Undressed by the Rebel: The Honourable Maverick

A boy that she would always have worried might turn out to be like his father. But what had Max said? That her baby might be a girl and pretty, just like her mum.

Max thought she was pretty? Ellie could feel the flush of warmth in her cheeks.

‘You’re looking so much better.’ Tori sounded satisfied. ‘And there’s no rush to come up with a name. Legally, I believe you’ve got a month before she has to be registered.’ She grinned. ‘Her dad started calling her “Mouse” and everyone else is now. Mouse McAdam. Bit different, anyway.’

Yes. Different. Untraceable.

Safe.

The end was in sight.

It should be a huge relief. It was a huge relief.

‘How ‘bout that, Mouse?’ Max looked down at the bundle he was carrying in the wake of the nurse who was pushing the plastic wheeled crib. ‘You’re going to the maternity ward. Your mummy’s so much better that she’s going to be able to look after you now. How good is that?’

It was very good. Excellent, even. He would be able to go home and get a full night’s sleep. He’d be able to get back to work and he couldn’t wait for a full-on, exhausting shift in the emergency department. The last few days had been an unexpected and disturbing disruption to his life and the sooner it was back on track the better. Maybe he’d suggest a weekend bike ride to the guys. Rick might stop laughing at him, finally, for playacting being a father. Jet might stop glaring at him and muttering under his breath about how crazy he was.

They were almost there now. Ellie had been put in a private room at the end of the ward. She’d only been on her feet for the first time that morning and was so weak she’d need constant help for the next few days but the nursing staff would be there for her. It was what they were paid to do, after all, and they’d do it well because everybody fell in love with Mouse.

The weight in his arms was so familiar. The kangaroo care wasn’t needed any more, of course, but Max would never forget the feel of that tiny body against his own. Or the moments of a satisfaction like no other he’d ever experienced. Like when he’d got her to take the bottle that first time. Or when she had only stopped crying when a nurse had placed her back in his arms.

‘Here you go,’ she had said, clearly reluctant. ‘It’s her daddy she wants.’

Daddy.

Was this what it felt like to be a father? He’d known what level of responsibility it would come with. And the kind of background anxiety that something bad could happen that had led to an urge to protect that was very disruptive to say the least. It had been crazy, hadn’t it, to take time off work to guard this infant? And if he’d felt this strongly about a baby that wasn’t even his, heaven help him if he ever got one of his own. If anything, he could take this whole experience as a warning.

The baby didn’t seem to approve of being relocated. She was whimpering by the time they reached the room where Ellie was sitting, propped up on pillows. She looked pale and her long hair lay in limp, dark strands but the IV lines and the oxygen mask had gone and when she saw Max coming through the door, carrying her baby, her face lit up with a smile that made him catch his breath at its brilliance.

She held out her arms and Max handed over the bundle. He hung around, though, because Mouse was crying and, well, he might be the only one who could settle her down properly. He knew this baby better than anyone, including her mother. They might need him. Just for a bit longer.

The staff busied themselves.

‘She’s hungry,’ a nurse declared. ‘I’ll go and fix a bottle for her.’

Max nodded. She was hungry, he could recognise the cry. He couldn’t leave yet because he’d be able to help Ellie with her first feed. He was good at bottles. He knew just how Mouse liked it to be held and how far to tip it and when. How you knew it was going well because her eyes would find yours and stare at you with that intense concentration that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

‘I…I thought I’d try feeding her myself,’ Ellie said.

She must have noticed his expression because a faint blush spread over her cheeks.

‘I’m drug-free, and the midwife who came to see me this morning showed me how to express milk and she said it hasn’t dried up and there’ll be plenty once I start feeding. And if there isn’t…’ Ellie sounded a little defensive now. ‘I can top up with a bottle but it’s going to be good for both of us if I give it a try.’

‘You want some help getting her latched on?’ the nurse queried.

‘Um…I’d rather try by myself.’ Ellie ducked her head, embarrassed. ‘The midwife gave me the Don’t Panic Guide to Birth to read and it’s great. There’s a technique in it that should work just as well for a baby this long after birth as if I’d done it straight away.’

‘I’ve read that.’ The nurse nodded. ‘It’s about being skin to skin and letting the baby latch on by itself, isn’t it?’

Ellie nodded, shy but eager.

‘That’s supposed to be between the mother and baby, unassisted, but…’ The nurse was frowning. ‘Given that you’ve just come from the intensive care unit, I’m not happy leaving you entirely by yourself with baby.’

Mouse was crying in earnest now, sounding distressed, with a warbling cry Max hadn’t heard before. It was making him feel tense.

‘Maybe if the father stays,’ the nurse suggested. ‘That’s allowed, isn’t it?’

Ellie was rocking the baby. ‘Shh, shh…’ she crooned. ‘It’s all right…’

Except it wasn’t all right. Max could see his own tension in Ellie’s face and hear it in the escalating misery of the baby’s cry. Someone needed to sort this out.

‘Of course it’s allowed,’ he snapped. ‘Why wouldn’t it be? Might be a good idea if you all left us to it.’

They went, closing the door behind them. Max drew the curtains over the windows on the corridor side of the room.

‘What should I do?’

‘Nothing,’ Ellie said. She was peeling away baby blankets. ‘I need to undress…her.’ She was fumbling with the ties on the baby’s gown but then she looked up and Max could see the tears in her eyes. ‘She hasn’t even got a name,’ Ellie choked out.

‘Yes, she has.’ Max stepped closer. He knew how to take that gown off. ‘She’s Mouse. Because she’s tiny and cute and sometimes she twitches her nose. Do you need the nappy off as well?’

‘I…I don’t think so.’

‘Skin to skin, right?’

Ellie didn’t meet his eyes. ‘Mmm. I need to put her…um, Mouse, between my breasts.’

Max swallowed. ‘OK. I’ll hold her for a tick while you sort your gown.’

He was used to holding this baby when it was virtually naked. The movements of small, unfettered limbs no longer triggered alarm. He held the baby against his chest and, by some miracle, it calmed her. He could feel the rub of that tiny nose against his shirt and the high-pitched cries softened into noisy snuffles.

‘She likes you,’ Ellie said.

‘She just knows me. Maybe it’s a smell thing.’ Max was busy not looking at Ellie as she took her arms from the sleeves of her gown and pushed it down to her waist.

‘Mmm.’ Her voiced sounded oddly strangled. ‘That’s what the book said. The baby needs to see and hear you and smell and taste. I put her face down between my breasts and stroke her back and she learns my smell and then she should start moving her head around until she finds the nipple all by herself.’

‘Really?’ Max was surprised enough to look up and there was Ellie with her breasts exposed. Small and round, like the rest of her. Pale and firm looking, with a tracing of blue veins and nut-brown nipples.

Max had to swallow hard again. He shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t. He could see the same discomfort in Ellie’s eyes when he hauled his gaze away, a flush of something like guilt warming the back of his neck. For two pins he’d give her the baby and leave her to it but he couldn’t do that, could he? They wouldn’t let her do this alone and if she had a complete stranger watching, the chances of this going well might be greatly diminished.

So, instead, he smiled. ‘You look like a Madonna,’ he told her. ‘You ready?’

‘Mmm.’

Max had to position Mouse and that inevitably meant that his hands had to touch her breasts. He tried to ignore the awareness. The odd tingle it gave him deep in his gut. At least it didn’t take long and then he could step back and simply observe. Be there in case Ellie needed rescuing.

It seemed to be going well. The baby stopped even snuffling as it lay there against its mother’s skin. Ellie stroked her gently down the middle of her back and then raised her hand slowly to repeat the motion. Again and again.