The Baby Gift: Wishing for a Miracle

They should have been able to debrief and put things into perspective on the long road trip back to headquarters courtesy of a military vehicle. They could have talked through how impossible it would have been to save that young woman. Even if they’d known she was there, they would still have had to evacuate all the mobile people and the time needed to shift the dead man and then extricate her would have put Ken in more trouble. And they couldn’t have known. There wasn’t even a window that Julia could have looked into from the outside.

These were things that should have been said aloud. Dissected and come to terms with. And maybe then they could have congratulated themselves on a job well done. The fact that ten people had made it out alive when it could have gone in a very different direction and claimed even more victims.

But Mac, for the first time Julia had known him, didn’t want to talk and that was confusing. He was the strongest, bravest man she had ever met. Six feet tall in his socks and without an ounce of fat on his body. His strength alone was enough to inspire confidence Julia couldn’t hope to impart as soon as he arrived on scene. But there was more to Mac than physical attributes. He was so open and honest and always smiling. Smiling so much that he had deep crinkles around his eyes and grooves on his cheeks. She had seen him tired beyond exhaustion. Frustrated enough to be angry. Sad, even, to the point of his voice sounding thick with tears, but she’d never seen him quite like this.

‘I’m stuffed,’ he said, when she tried to get him to talk at the start of their road trip home. ‘I need sleep. Let’s leave the talking till later, OK?’

Which would have been fine, except that Mac didn’t sleep. Neither could Julia, Not after she’d noticed the way he was staring through the window on his side. Lost in thoughts he obviously didn’t want to share and looking so…bleak.

He closed his eyes, later, but he was feigning sleep. Julia could tell because she could see the way his hands were clenched into fists. So tense.

She wanted—badly—to touch him. To find out what was bothering him and—somehow—make it better.

She cared, dammit. Too much.

And so she said nothing. She kept to her side of the back seat and stared out of her window. Her body ached with weariness and more than a few bumps and bruises but her heart ached more.

For Mac.

Ten years.

It had been a decade ago and Mac hadn’t even thought about it for eons.

What was it about that moment that had brought it back so vividly?

The long blonde hair?

The early pregnancy?

Or was it because Julia had been standing so close to him?

It was like pieces of a jigsaw he hadn’t intended, or wanted, to solve had come together out of nowhere.

Mac could hear the suck of heavy-duty tyres on water-soaked roadways along with the rumble of the engine and the background buzz of the radio station the driver was listening to. Runnels of water coalesced on the window and then streaked sideways but Mac wasn’t really watching. He was seeing an altogether different picture.

No wonder he found Julia Bennett so damned attractive on so many levels. It wasn’t just that she was gorgeous and smart and brave. It was that full-on approach to life in combination with an ability to sidestep any hint of a meaningful personal relationship that did it.

Presented the kind of challenge any red-blooded man would find irresistible, it was almost a matter of honour to have a crack at winning such a prize. Or wanting to.

Why hadn’t he put two and two together before this?

Because he’d done his damnedest to forget Christine, that was why. To forget the heartache of absolute failure. To move on and make a success of his life.

‘You OK, mate?’ Julia had asked when they were on the main road and settling in for their journey back to headquarters.

‘I’m stuffed,’ he’d growled. And he was. Exhausted both physically and emotionally. In pain, actually, because something raw had been unexpectedly exposed deep within. He’d never talked to anyone about it. Ever. And if he did, Julia would be at the bottom of any list of potential listeners. He wasn’t about to admit the kind of failure he was on a personal level. Preferably not to anyone but especially not to a woman whom he doubted had ever failed at anything and who would be less than impressed with a man who was nowhere near her equal.

‘I need sleep,’ he’d added tonelessly, turning away from her. ‘Let’s leave the talking till later, OK?’

She accepted his withdrawal and why wouldn’t she? Today had been tough. This was the best job in the world but it took a day when they succeeded a hundred per cent to reinforce that. A job when no one died or got maimed for life. The way through feeling like that was to talk about it, of course. He knew that. Debriefing was ingrained in anyone who worked in careers that dealt with this kind of trauma and degree of human suffering. It was a part of the job, really, to analyse everything that had happened. To take a quiet pride in things that had been done well and to learn from anything else so they could go out and do an even better job next time.

But he couldn’t talk to Julia about this. Not yet. Not when he’d been blindsided by memories and could see danger signs a mile high. Signs that warned him how easy it would be to fall in love with this woman. Hell, he was already quite a way down that track and hadn’t even noticed.

He couldn’t afford to let her anywhere near him right now, when the scab over that failure had been ripped off and he was feeling raw. Vulnerable, even, and Alan MacCulloch didn’t do vulnerable, thanks very much. Imagine if she wasn’t unimpressed with his history. If she accepted him, warts and all. He’d fall. Hard. In a way he’d managed to avoid for a whole decade. Nearly a quarter of his life, come to think of it.

She didn’t want that.

Neither did he.

Julia was looking at him. He could feel it. He could sense her concern, like a gust of warmth crossing the gap on the back seat in the back of this vehicle. She wanted to offer comfort but Mac didn’t want that either. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Well after midnight, they got back to the outskirts of Glasgow and the station they shared with a road-based ambulance service. They collected their packs from the back of the truck.

‘Cheers, mate,’ Julia said to the soldier who’d been their chauffeur. ‘Hope you get to go back to base and get some shuteye now.’

‘Not a chance.’ The young soldier grinned. ‘I’ve got to get back to the scene. We’ll be there until it’s all cleaned up.’

Cleaning up was exactly what he and Julia needed to do. Mac picked up his pack and swung it onto his back. From the corner of his eye he could see Julia struggling to do the same. She was so tired she could barely stay upright, poor thing. The urge to look after her was far too strong to ignore.

‘Here,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll take them. You go and hit the showers.’

‘No, thanks.’ The tone was cool. ‘I can manage.’

She gave up on lifting the pack to her back and just held it in her arms instead, turning away without a glance in his direction.

It was a slap he deserved so he had no right to feel hurt. Julia had done nothing wrong and hadn’t deserved to be treated the way he had treated her. God, how selfish had he been? Maybe she’d been the one who needed the debrief. Praise, if nothing else, for her extraordinary courage and endurance.

He’d made a mistake. A big one. How hard would it have been to talk about the job like they always did? Made a few jokes, even. The kind of black humour that diffused the dark space they were all in danger of slipping into with this kind of job. He could have made her smile and that would have made him smile and feel good. She would never have guessed that he’d been thinking of anything other than work.

He’d been stupid as well as selfish. Not only had he created an uncomfortable distance between himself and his partner, it had been the worst defence possible for himself. He’d had nothing to do but think for nearly two hours. Sitting there being so aware of the woman sitting beside him. Wanting her and pushing her away simultaneously.

God, he’d never felt this tired. Exhaustion was becoming confusion. A long, hot shower was what he needed and then he’d head home. Maybe it was better not to say anything more to Jules tonight in an attempt to put things right because, the way he was feeling, he would most likely make things worse. They were due for two days off now. By the time they had to see each other again, she might have forgotten his moodiness or at least forgiven his silence. They could just go back and pick up where they’d left off.

Being colleagues who respected and cared about each other. Julia had called the soldier ‘mate’ and it was what she often called him as well. That’s what they were. Mates. Comrades. Not quite friends because that implied something a lot more personal than they had. Dangerous territory.

The decision to leave things was a relief. The shower and change into warm, dry civvies was a comfort. Mac signed himself out and noted Julia’s signature already in the logbook. She’d left before him and that was good.

Or was it?

And why was her car still in the parking lot at the back of the station?

Maybe she’d gone into the messroom to talk to the crew on night shift. Mac battled, briefly, with the desire to retrace his footsteps and find her but solved the problem by turning towards his own vehicle—a hefty, black four-wheel drive that filled his allocated space. Overflowed from it, in fact, despite him nosing it in until the front bumper virtually touched the moss of the old stone wall surrounding this area. There were trees on the other side of the wall. Big, dark shapes that created such intense shadows he didn’t see Julia until he was about to pull his driver’s door open.

She was sitting on the wall. Wrapped up in a padded anorak and mittens. Waiting for him.

‘What the—?’

Julia jumped down. Her hood fell away and she wrapped her arms around her body as she took a step forward. And then another. Until she was close enough for him to see that her hair was still damp despite the protection the hood had given her from the drizzle. Close enough for him to smell the shampoo she’d just been using.