To The Doctor: A Daughter

Dear heaven…

Nate sat back in his chair. He let what she’d said drift slowly though his mind, trying to assimilate it. He raised his hand and ran his fingers through his thatch of burnt-red curls, fighting for some sanity. Fighting for some reason.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said at last. ‘I can’t think.’

‘There’s not much to think about.’

‘Well, that’s a crazy statement,’ he snapped, shock giving way to anger. ‘Not much to think about! When you come in here and present me with the fact that I’m a father…’

‘If you slept with Fiona you must have known fatherhood was a possibility.’

‘Of course I didn’t.’

‘You’re a doctor,’ she snapped back, as angry as he was. ‘You know very well that no contraceptive is perfect. Unless it’s abstinence. And you and Fiona didn’t practise abstinence.’

‘No, but—’

‘But nothing. She’s your baby.’ She rose again and proffered her bundle. ‘Are you going to take her—or are you intending to arrange an adoption? Fiona had this baby to punish me for not being ill. I’ve thought it through. It worked with Cady. I’ve taken him in and I’ve cared for him and I love him to bits. But with Mia…every time I look at her I get angry. That’s no way to rear a child, Dr Ethan. She deserves better than that. So…you’re her daddy. Will you take her—or will you find someone else who’ll love her?’

He did have an option, he thought incredulously. He could just say take her away and she would. She’d hand her over to adoptive parents.

But no. She was way ahead of him.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ she told him flatly, and it was as if she had read his mind. ‘I’m not arranging the adoption. For a start that’d mean taking care of her for longer—and I daren’t take the chance that I’ll grow to love her. And even if I wanted to, I can’t. There are no official documents naming me as her parent. There’s only the birth certificate. Cady’s birth certificate…well, Cady’s certificate landed me right in it, but Mia’s certificate says her mother is deceased and her father is Nate Ethan. You. So as of this moment you’re her sole guardian. Like it or not.’

Carefully, deliberately, she set the sleeping baby on the desk in front of him.

She’d been well cared for, Nate saw in some deep recess of his brain that could still note such things. She was rosy and chubby and beautifully dressed. She’d been loved.

‘How…how old did you say she was?’

‘Four weeks. She should be smiling soon.’

‘And…how long since Fiona…?’

‘Fiona never regained consciousness after the birth. She lapsed into a coma at thirty-eight weeks and the doctors performed an emergency Caesarean. It was all horribly too late. She died the day after delivery.’

He closed his eyes. This was all far too much to take in. Fiona dead?

And he had a daughter.

No! ‘You can’t leave her here!’

‘Watch me.’ She tilted her chin in a gesture of defiance and then handed over a business card. ‘This is where you can find me.’

‘If I need you?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m tired of being needed, Dr Ethan. Cady needs me and that’s all the responsibility I can handle. But if…in future…you want Cady to meet his half-sister…’

Hell. The future stretched before him, vast and unknown. Ten minutes ago his future had been the Terama Jazzfest. Now…

‘You can’t do this.’

‘I can.’ She leaned over the little boy and took Cady’s hand in hers. ‘That’s a great tower,’ she told the little boy. ‘But we need to go.’

‘You’re leaving town?’ Nate’s voice was an incredulous croak and she smiled, not without sympathy.

‘That’s the plan. We live in Sydney and it’s a long drive.’

‘But what the hell am I meant to do?’

‘What I’ve been doing,’ she told him. ‘Shoulder your responsibility. You are a doctor after all. I assume you know baby basics and I’ve checked your background. You have a nice little bush nursing hospital on hand. They’ll have everything you need.’ She laid a bag on the desk beside the sleeping baby. ‘This contains formula, bottles, clothes—everything you need. And now, Dr Ethan, you’re on your own.’

But he wasn’t on his own. Not quite.

From Reception there was the sound of a door opening and then closing, followed by brisk heels tapping across the floor. He’d left the door open just a little. Hannah, his receptionist, had seen his last patient for the day into his rooms and then left. There was no one out there. Except…

The door opened just a little and Donna’s beautiful face peeked around.

‘Yoohoo. Anyone home?’ Her eyes found Nate and she smiled her loveliest smile. ‘Nate, darling, we’re going to be very late. I’ve brought your evening clothes so you can change here and we can get going right now.’

Compared to Fiona, Donna didn’t cut it, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t gorgeous. She was tall, five feet eleven or so, willow thin and beautifully groomed. In fact, she was just the way Nate liked his women. And she was dressed to kill. She was wearing a 1920s costume—a pencil-thin fringed dress which accentuated every gorgeous curve as it shimmered and swayed, and high, high stilettos. Her sleek chestnut bob was adorned with a tiny velvet headband and feather, and she wore beads that reached almost to her hips.

She was some sight! Normally Nate would have whistled his appreciation. But he wasn’t in the mood for whistling.

And Donna should have known better than to barge in on a patient.

‘Donna, I’m busy.’

‘No. No, he’s not busy. Not any more.’ Gemma smiled at the sight of Nate’s girlfriend and held out her hand in welcome. ‘This makes it all perfect. You have a new lady in your life. From what Fiona told me about you I was sure you wouldn’t let grass grow under your feet. How do you do? I’m Gemma. And this is Cady. We’re just leaving. But…’ She eyed Donna’s stunning dress with a wry smile. ‘If I were you, I’d put a cloth over your shoulder if you’re intending nursing Mia in that dress. She does suffer a little from reflux.’

With that she gave them both her very brightest smile, collected Cady and walked out the door.

‘Stop!’

She didn’t.

And Nate moved. Hell, he moved. He’d never moved faster in his life. Gemma had walked out into the reception area but before she could reach the door to the car park he was in front of her, blocking her path.

‘You’re not going anywhere.’

She raised her mobile eyebrows at that. ‘You’re planning on locking me up and throwing away the key?’

‘No.’

‘Then what?’

What? He ran his fingers though his hair and he groaned. ‘Hell.’

‘What’s wrong, Nate?’ Donna was clearly puzzled.

‘I…this lady…Gemma…wants to leave me with her baby.’

‘No.’ Gemma wasn’t having any of that. ‘She’s your baby. Not mine. Get things right.’

‘Your baby.’ Donna blenched. ‘Yours! Did you and…?’ She looked wildly from Gemma to Nate and back again, and Gemma gave a derisory laugh.

‘Don’t get yourself in a state here. No, Nate and I didn’t do a thing. I’ve only just met your Dr Ethan. This isn’t my baby. I’m only the stork, delivering his bundle whether he likes it or not.’

Donna’s confusion grew. ‘What’s going on?’

What was going on? Nate didn’t have a clue. He was so at sea that he felt like he was drowning. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Let me past.’ Gemma’s voice was implacable.

‘You can’t leave.’

‘I can. I must. I need to work tomorrow. I’ve taken every one of my sick days and more over the last few weeks, and if I’m not back tomorrow I risk being sacked.’

‘You work?’

‘Amazing but true.’

‘And who looks after Cady while you work?’

‘There’s no joy down that road,’ she snapped, seeing where his thoughts were headed. ‘Cady goes to day care at the hospital and I can’t afford to keep two children in care.’

‘You’re a nurse?’

‘No, Dr Ethan.’ Her patience had pretty much come to an end. ‘I’m a doctor. Amazing as it sounds. Just like my sister. Only I’m so unlike my sister that you wouldn’t believe it. In fact, I’ve never had an illegitimate child in my life. Now, if you don’t mind…’

‘Gemma, I feel funny.’ The child’s voice from beside her was neither plaintive or high-pitched. He was simply stating a fact, and Gemma closed her eyes in a gesture of sheer weariness.

‘I know, sweetheart. So do I. I need to find somewhere for us to have dinner.’ She turned back to Nate. ‘I’ve been waiting all afternoon to see you and I can wait no longer. You have a baby to see to. I have Cady. So can we leave it, please?’

He stared down at the card that she’d given him. There it was in black and white. Dr Gemma Campbell. Anaesthetist. Sydney Central Hospital.

She really was a doctor.

And this was no nightmare. This was cold, hard fact.

‘I can find you at Sydney Central?’

‘Yes. As I said—only if you want the kids to be in contact. It’s up to you. I’ll tell Cady about Mia as he grows up, but if you don’t want her to know…or if you decide on adoption…’

‘Nate, honey, what the hell is going on?’

‘It seems I have a baby,’ Nate said in a voice that held not the slightest hint of humour. His tone said that he’d been trapped. There was anger behind the words and both women heard it.

And surprisingly Gemma’s face softened into very real sympathy.

‘I’m sorry, Nate,’ she told him. ‘I understand you’ve been used. But…so have I. And it does boil down to the fact that you’re Mia’s father. Good luck with her, and I hope you learn to love her—as I love Cady.’

And she smiled and walked around him. Out into the car park. Out of his life. For ever?

CHAPTER TWO

DONNA wasn’t the least bit interested in babies.

‘She has to be joking,’ she said flatly as Gemma disappeared into the night. ‘She can’t just dump you with the kid.’

‘No.’

But it seemed she had. Nate stared at the closed door, trying to figure out a reason why he should stride after her and stop her going. Could he ring the police? Could he have them haul her back and accept her responsibility?

But her conversation played itself back in his mind. Over and over. This baby wasn’t Gemma’s responsibility. She was Nate’s.

One stupid act…

He should never have slept with Fiona, he thought wildly. Was he as crazy as Fiona had been? One stupid act…

‘Nate, honey…’

‘I don’t think we’re going to be able to go to the Jazzfest,’ he told her, and her lovely face fell.

‘But we must. We’ve had these tickets for ages and all our friends will be there.’

‘Donna, leave it.’

She paused and stared at him. Then her eyes fell on the baby.

Mia was just waking, and her tiny eyelids fluttered open. With her eyes open the resemblance to Nate was almost uncanny.

‘She really is your baby,’ Donna whispered, stunned.

And Nate looked down.

Green eyes met green eyes. Her gaze was as intent and direct as his. Man and baby, meeting for the first time in both their lives.

Dear God… His gut wrenched as it had never been wrenched in his life before. She was just…beautiful. Perfect. Slowly he reached out a finger and traced the baby-soft skin of her cheek. Still her eyes held his, as if she knew that here was a man whose future was inexplicably locked to hers.

‘You can’t keep her.’ Donna’s voice sounded as if it were light years away—from a past life—and Nate had to wrench himself back to reality. To now. To here and to what counted for commonsense.

‘I don’t know.’

‘The mother…’

‘Is a past girlfriend. I didn’t know she was pregnant. And now she’s dead.’

‘Oh, Nate, I’m sorry,’ Donna said—with the easy sympathy of someone this didn’t affect in the least. She glanced at her watch. ‘Look, why don’t we pop her over into children’s ward? That way we can still make it to the Jazzfest in time for dinner.’

He thought that through. It had distinct appeal. What he needed desperately here was space. ‘I suppose I could…’

‘Of course you could. The nurses there are trained to take care of babies.’ Donna’s tone said that such things were unfathomable. Taking care of babies was something to be handled by experts. Like bomb detonation. ‘And we don’t want her to spoil our evening.’

‘Donna, I—’

‘Look, you’re surely not suggesting we stay home and stare at a baby all night?’

He caught himself at that. It did seem ridiculous. And the hospital was quiet. There were places available in kids’ ward.

He’d shelve the problem until tomorrow, he told himself. He’d give himself time to think.

‘Maybe it’s a good idea.’

‘Of course it’s a good idea.’

But as Nate lifted the tiny pink bundle into his arms—as he smelled the newborn milkiness of her and as he felt her nuzzle contentedly into his shoulder—he thought…

Stay at home and stare at a baby all night?

Suddenly it didn’t seem such a crazy idea at all.

‘My legs feel funny.’

Gemma bit her lip. She really had stretched Cady’s patience to the limit. He was four years old, he was exhausted and he was very, very hungry.

She’d stretched him to the limit time and time again in the past few weeks, she thought bitterly. That was half the reason she was demanding that Nate take responsibility for Mia. Fiona had left a pile of bills a mile high. Gemma had needed to drop everything to be with her during the birth. And then afterwards—the funeral arrangements—everything had fallen to her. And all this time Cady had struggled uncomplainingly by her side.

She lifted him high into her arms and hugged him hard.

‘It’s over now, sweetheart. We’re back to being just you and me.’

‘I liked the baby.’

‘I know. And she’s your sister. When you get a bit bigger you’ll be able to spend some time with her. I hope. But for now she’s better off with her daddy. And I’m better off with you.’

‘He was nice. I’d like a daddy like that.’

Yeah, right. As if. Gemma hugged harder as she carried the little boy into the roadhouse. The place was down at heel and looked distinctly seedy but its upside was that it also looked cheap. She could feed Cady enough to get them on the road back to Sydney.

He’d like a daddy like that?

She’d like one, too, she thought. She couldn’t remember her own father. For the last few years her mother had leaned on her, and the responsibilities for Fiona had all been hers.

And Alan was still there—a nightmare in her background.

Sometimes the responsibilities were far, far too much.

‘Let’s just concentrate on food,’ she told Cady. ‘One step at a time.’

‘Why can’t he be our daddy?’

Because he’d never look sideways at the likes of me, she thought bitterly. What man would? A woman encumbered with debt and child and responsibility up to her ears. And Alan…

Damn. To her horror she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes and she blinked them back with a fierceness that surprised her.

She must be more exhausted than she’d thought.

‘We’ll just get food and then we’ll go,’ she told him, and set him down at the first table she came to.

And he swayed.

‘Cady…’ Her hands came onto his shoulders to steady him. What was wrong? ‘Are you OK?’

‘N-no,’ he whispered, and she had to stoop to hear him. ‘Gemma, the room’s doing funny things. My eyes are doing funny things. Make them stop.’

‘Sure, we can keep her overnight.’ Jane, the cheerful night charge nurse accepted Mia with easy equanimity. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘As far as I know, nothing.’

‘She’s been abandoned,’ Donna chirped in from behind. She’d accompanied Nate across the road to the hospital and stood waiting—still bearing his dinner suit. ‘And we need to go to the Jazzfest.’

‘Of course you do. But…did you say abandoned?’ And then Jane lifted away the blanket covering the baby’s head and her breath sucked in with astonishment. Her eyes flew from the baby’s head to Nate’s and then back again.

Gemma was right. He’d never be able to disown this baby, Nate thought grimly. And the news would be from one end of the valley to the other by the morning. Dr Ethan’s baby, abandoned in Terama.

‘Just look after her for me for the night,’ he told Jane wearily. ‘I need to sort out a few things—in the morning.’

‘I’d imagine you do.’

His eyes flashed anger. ‘There’s no need to jump to conclusions.’

‘No?’ Jane was in her mid-forties. Nate was thirty-two so Jane was certainly not old enough to be his mother—but she sure acted like it.

‘No!’

‘Whatever you say, Dr Ethan.’ She hugged the baby close. ‘Oh, aren’t you just delicious? Looking after you will be pure pleasure.’ She waved Nate and Donna away. ‘Off you go, and enjoy yourselves. And then come back to one gorgeous baby.’

How the hell was he supposed to enjoy himself after that?

Nate somehow managed to respond to his friends and he tried to eat his dinner but only half his mind was on what he was doing. Or less. Maybe less than ten per cent of his mind. The rest was back in the children’s ward with a baby called Mia.

And maybe…maybe part of his mind was travelling up the highway toward Sydney, with one very weary doctor called Gemma and a little boy called Cady.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, he couldn’t worry about them. He had enough to worry about with Mia.

His daughter.

The knowledge went round and round his heart, insidious in its sweetness.

He should be panic-stricken, he thought, and a part of him was. The other…the other part remembered how his tiny daughter had felt snuggling into his chest. The way her fingers had curled around his. The feel of her soft curls under his chin…

Mia. His daughter.

And Gemma…

She was still in his thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d looked too damned tired to face the highway to Sydney.

He should have insisted she stay the night.

She’d be sacked if she stayed. What had she said? She’d used all her sick-pay entitlements and then some.

She’d taken on so much!

He could guess how it had been, he thought grimly. She’d coped with the responsibilities of a dying sister and her two children.

She’d handed over one. He should be angry.

He couldn’t be angry. Whenever he tried, he kept thinking back to the feel of Mia against his chest and the anger dissipated, to be replaced by something that was akin to wonder.

He had a daughter.

And finally he could bear it no longer. He pushed away his half-finished plate of food and gave Donna an apologetic smile.

‘I’m sorry, Donna, but I need to go.’

She was astonished. ‘But you haven’t been called and the dancing hasn’t even started.’

‘I need to go back to kids’ ward.’

‘To the baby?’

‘To the baby. Yes.’ He took a deep breath and accepted reality. ‘To my baby.’

She stared at him in amazement. ‘You’re not going to keep it?’

‘If I can. Yes. I think so.’

Her lovely eyes widened in astonishment. ‘You surely can’t be serious?’ And then another thought hit her. ‘You don’t expect me to help, do you?’

‘No, Donna, I don’t expect that.’

‘I don’t think I’d be very good with babies.’

‘That’s fine.’

‘And you really want to go?’ Her lips pouted in displeasure. ‘Go on, then. If you must. There’s plenty of other men to dance with and to take me home.’

He knew that. Damn, he knew.

Maybe he was being stupid. He wavered, just for an instant, and in that instant the buzzer sounded on his belt. He lifted his cellphone and saw who was calling. The hospital charge nurse.

‘Jane?’

‘Nate, you’d better come. I need you here now.’ She sounded rushed and that was all she had time for. The phone went dead before he learned any more.

Mia? Was there something wrong with Mia? His feet were taking him out the door before his phone had been clipped back on his belt. What was wrong?

When he had a call there was always tension—but not like his.

His daughter…

But it wasn’t his daughter. It was Cady.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong.’ Gemma was beside herself. She was sitting in Emergency looking as sick as the child in her arms. ‘He’s just… Nate, he’s hardly conscious. I thought it was weariness but this is much more than weariness.’

Nate was still in his dinner suit. He looked handsome—absurdly handsome—but Gemma didn’t notice. She didn’t see Nate the man. She saw Nate the doctor, and the doctor was what she needed most at this moment. A doctor with skills. Please…

‘Tell me what happened.’ Nate’s voice was curt and decisive, cutting through her fear. Or trying to. She might be a doctor herself but this was her beloved Cady and her medical judgement couldn’t surface through her terror.

Somehow she forced herself to be calm. To give Nate the facts.

‘We stopped a few miles down the road. I wanted to get a little distance between us…between the baby and us…before we ate. And Cady was really, really quiet but I thought, well, it was his little sister we’d just left. And we’d grown so fond… Regardless of what I told you…’

She was almost incoherent, Nate thought. She was hugging the little boy to her as she spoke and their faces were a matching chalky white. Jane had pressed Gemma into a chair and was taking Cady’s blood pressure. She’d called Nate as soon as she’d seen Cady. The dance hall was only a few hundred yards from the hospital so he’d arrived there in minutes.

Nate listened to the fear in Gemma’s voice. He stooped before them, lifting the boy’s wrist and feeling his racing pulse. His breathing was deep and gasping—as if it hurt.

‘OK, Cady, we’ll have you feeling better in no time,’ he told the little boy, sensing the rigid fear in the child’s body. Obviously there were things happening that Cady didn’t understand.

Neither did Gemma. ‘OK, Gemma, just take it slowly,’ he told her. ‘Calm down.’ His voice insisted she do just that. ‘Tell me what happened next.’

She hiccuped on a sob. ‘He said he couldn’t see. He said everything was fuzzy. And then…he was violently ill and now he’s limp…’

‘OK.’ This could be a number of things. The tension of the past hour had fallen away now to be replaced with a different sort of tension. Nate was back in medical mode and nothing else mattered. What was happening here? What did he have? One limp kid?

Meningitis? Maybe it was, and he could tell by the fear in Gemma’s voice that that was what she was terrified of.

Okay. Worst case scenario first. Rule of thumb—look for the worst and work backwards.

‘There’s no temperature,’ Jane told him, showing him the thermometer. ‘High blood pressure. Rapid pulse. But no temp.’

OK. Breathe again. That should rule out meningitis.

But Cady certainly looked sick.

The child was thin, Nate thought, sitting back on his heels and really looking. Taking his time. He’d learned in the past that unless airways were threatened, such examinations were important. So he took the child in from head to toe—examining him with his eyes instead of his hands.

What did he have?

Thin child. Fuzzy vision. Sick. Tired, and drifting into semiconsciousness.

Diabetic mother…

And a little voice was recalled from nowhere. The memory slammed home.

‘Gemma, I’m thirsty.’

Click.

‘Jane, I want a blood sugar,’ he said curtly. He put his hand over Cady’s and gripped, hard. ‘Cady, your eyes are a bit funny, are they? Can you hear me, Cady? Can you tell me what’s happening?’ The little boy seemed as if he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

‘I can’t… Everything looks funny.’ Cady’s voice was a bewildered whisper and Nate’s eyes met Gemma’s. The child’s confusion was reflected in hers.

‘Cady, I’m going to take a tiny pinprick of blood,’ he told the little boy. ‘Not much. It’ll be a tiny prick. I think you might have too much sugar in your blood and I want to find out if I’m right. If that’s what’s making you sick.’