The Baby Gift: Wishing for a Miracle

Oh, Lord. This was going to be every bit as dreadful as she’d feared. That kiss had unleashed something that had to be chained up again. Currently it felt like something far too wild to even begin trying to handle. It was too hard to move her feet and take the first step in any attempt. Her heart was thumping and her stomach was tying itself into a painful knot.

And then Mac turned his head. ‘Hey, Jules. Want a coffee?’

It was exactly what he would have said last week. In exactly the same kind of tone. The knot inside began to melt and Julia’s heart gave a peculiar kind of wiggle and then settled into a steady rhythm she could ignore. It was going to be OK.

She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

And here it was. The first challenge. Eye contact that would be far too easy to maintain and allow to continue long enough to be significant. To send messages that Julia had no intention of transmitting. But Mac’s glance only brushed hers. Just a whisper of contact. The kind you might make with a complete stranger.

It should have been reassuring.

It certainly shouldn’t feel like a physical shove to push her away and even if it did, it shouldn’t feel this disappointing.

The Sunday papers were still scattered all over the big table in the kitchen area. Julia made an effort and shifted her focus.

‘They took some great pictures, didn’t they? I love that one of you and Carla being winched up. You should contact the paper and see if you can get a copy.’

‘The TV footage was even better.’ Mac came towards her, carrying two steaming mugs. He put one in front of Julia and then sat down. ‘They caught you climbing into the carriage. Did you see it?’

‘No.’ Julia was happy to follow Mac’s example and sit down. Maybe she could relax all those tense muscles now because Mac sounded completely normal. As though the kiss had never happened. Her smile was rueful. ‘I think my sister did, though. She’s planning my obituary in case I don’t make it back home.’

Mac smiled. Just one of those crooked, half-smiles he was so good at but Julia was aware of that melting sensation inside again. She reached for her mug and cupped her hands around it as though needing the comfort of its warmth.

‘I heard you telling Ken about her. She sounds pretty special.’

Julia risked an upward glance. This was different. A conversation about something personal? But Mac’s expression was simply interested. She couldn’t read anything more into this step onto new territory.

She shrugged. ‘Yeah…probably not the done thing to share one’s life history with a patient but he needed distraction.’

Mac was pulling a section of the newspaper closer, signalling that the personal conversation was over, but then Julia was surprised again.

‘Not many people get raised by a sibling,’ he said.

‘No. She’s an amazing person.’ Julia was happy to talk about this. This was exactly the kind of conversations that colleagues on the way to being friends could have. ‘She was only six and I was a baby when Mum died but Dad always said she grew up overnight and turned into a mother instead of a sister. When she wasn’t at school she had to be the one looking after me, and woe betide any nanny who tried to interfere.’

Mac raised an eyebrow. ‘Determination is a family trait, then?’

‘Yeah…’ Was that a compliment of some kind? Way too hard to tell and why on earth was she bothered, anyway? She really, really didn’t want this kind of emotional roller-coaster going on in her head.

She could ignore it and it would go away. Julia concentrated on her coffee for the short silence that followed. In the normal run of things, they might have a brief conversation but then they’d probably look at the papers while they finished their drinks. Or discuss what the day might bring. There was no one else on station at the moment, which meant the road crews were busy. If there were no callouts for the specialist crews they could be used to help cover other work.

Julia was hoping that the silence was only feeling awkward for herself but Mac’s abrupt question advertised otherwise.

‘She’s a doctor? Your sister?’

‘A paediatric cardiothoracic surgical registrar, no less.’

‘That’s extremely impressive.’

‘Sure is. I’m very proud of her.’

‘But you weren’t tempted to go to med school yourself?’

‘Tempted, yes. But then I thought about being confined in an ED or a theatre or a general practice and I got cabin fever.’

‘You wanted adventure.’

‘Yeah.’

‘A bit of danger.’

‘Too right!’

‘No two jobs the same.’

‘You got it.’ They were both smiling now. Of course Mac got it. They shared a passion for this work and it was a connection far too strong to ignore.

We’re talking about work, Julia reminded herself. That’s the connection. We’re colleagues.

So why did it feel like something else entirely? That rapid-fire exchange seemed to have derailed them both and led them straight back to where they’d been…the moment before that kiss.

Mac’s smile faded and he looked away. ‘I’m not surprised she worries about you. She’s still being a mother, isn’t she?’

‘Kind of.’ Julia sucked in a breath, pushing this man and her reactions to him out of her head. Trying to concentrate and think about her sister, instead. It was a complicated relationship that had undergone a huge change as she’d left her teens. A rough couple of years, those had been, what with the diagnosis of early endometrial cancer, the surgery and the grief that had accompanied her recuperation with such a huge adjustment needed in what she had envisaged as her future. ‘She’s like a mother and a sister and a best friend all rolled into one, I guess.’

Mac was silent for a heartbeat. ‘You must miss her.’

‘I do.’

He cleared his throat. ‘Guess you’ll be looking forward to getting home, then.’

And there it was. Challenge number two. Had Mac intended any significance behind those words? If she said she couldn’t wait to get back to the other side of the world, she could ensure that any thoughts he might have of following up on that kiss would be buried because she would really be saying she wasn’t interested in him.

The split second of identifying that significance was enough of a hesitation. Mac stood up and took his mug back to the sink to rinse it. The question morphed into a statement and left the clear impression that the fact she was looking forward to leaving was acceptable.

A relief, even?

He could do this.

That pesky part of Mac’s brain that was attached to something much lower on his body just needed a bit more squashing and it would fit neatly into a box that could be locked and then ignored.

He’d managed well so far today, apart from that tiny prod he hadn’t been able to resist this morning, asking if Julia was looking forward to getting home. Alert for a flicker of something other than the impression she was trying very hard to pretend that kiss had never happened. Testing her. Or testing himself?

Whatever. They had both passed.

They’d tidied and restocked the back of the helicopter and then their kits but all they’d discussed had been things like the strength of disinfectant to use or the fact that they were low on IV supplies and morphine. It hadn’t helped that the busy start to the day for the road crew had become an unusually quiet day and, once he and Julia had moved inside to do the kits, they were hanging around, keen to hear as much inside detail as they could about the train-crash scene.

‘So how did you tackle the fractured femur?’