From Bachelor To Daddy

‘Great news,’ Marty replied, pleased to have talk of bushfires diverting his brain from its seeming obsession with Emma. He could do bushfire talk! ‘The firefighters will get a break, and with decent rain these might be the last of the fires for the season.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Mac said. ‘I’ll leave you to have a shower, then Izzy’s made some sandwiches. If you want to get straight back to Braxton you can eat them on the way.’

Marty turned in the doorway of the bathroom that had been tacked onto the veranda at the back of the house.

‘Thanks, Mac, I appreciate it.’

Mac smiled at him.

‘That’s what family’s for,’ Mac reminded him.

Marty took the words into the shower with him and as the water splashed down over his body he thought of the main one—family. How lucky had he been to have landed with foster parents whose determination had been not merely to provide a home for abandoned or damaged children but to provide them with a family—to meld them into a family in the truest sense of the word—a group where they belonged?

But as he dressed in dry, borrowed clothes, his mind returned to Emma and her family—boys, Dad, her—but no wedding ring and no mention of a husband.

Not that it was any of his business, and neither was he interested in finding out more. He tried not to think about the fact that, given the gossip mill that was the hospital, he’d soon know everything there was to know about Emma Crawford, and probably far more than she wanted people to know.

He was smiling to himself as he pushed open the door into the kitchen and greeted Izzy with a kiss.

‘No Nikki?’ he asked, looking around the room, taking in Emma’s appearance in long shorts and a slightly too tight T-shirt, damp dark hair framing her face like a pixie’s in a story book.

‘Studying with her friend,’ Izzy explained. ‘Now, Emma’s having a cup of tea. Do you want one or do you need to get back to Braxton? I’ve made sandwiches to go if you can’t stay.’

‘We’ll go but take the sandwiches, not that I expect we’ll be able to eat them all because you know Hallie, she’ll have a basket of goodies already packed into the helicopter. But thanks.’

He dropped another kiss on her cheek, then bent and kissed her baby bump.

‘That’s from your Uncle Marty, Bump. I hope you’re behaving yourself in there.’

Mac and Izzy laughed, but although Emma smiled, he sensed a sadness in her.

Or maybe it was just plain exhaustion. For a first day at work, it had been a beauty!

‘Come on,’ he said to her. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Had he spoken too abruptly—too roughly—that she looked startled and stumbled slightly as she stood up, and her hand shook as she put her cup on the table?

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, when they’d said their goodbyes and were back in the ute.

‘Fine,’ she said quietly, ‘though I’ll be happy to get home. It’s been a long first day.’

* * *

But was she entirely happy to be going home?

Of course she was.

Then why the little niggle somewhere deep inside her that suggested she’d have liked to stay a little longer with Marty’s family, sitting in the kitchen, talking about nothing in particular?

She thrust the thought away, aware that it was something to do with being in a new town, and not having had time to make friends, her life revolving around the boys and now work.

‘Tired?’ Marty asked as they pulled up in the shed behind a huge old building.

‘I think I must be,’ Emma replied, deciding that would explain all the strange things going on in her head.

‘Well, I’ll have you home in no time,’ he told her as he led the way to where two elderly people waited by a little helicopter. ‘Do you have a car at the hospital?’

His hand was behind her back, guiding her through the dark yard, barely touching her, yet the—probably imagined—warmth from his hand was as distracting as the niggle had been earlier.

‘Car? Hospital?’ he asked again as she didn’t reply.

She shook her head, hoping to clear it.

‘No, I walk to work.’

‘Then I can run you home. The good thing about Braxton is that nowhere’s far from anywhere else.’

The small helicopter looked like a toy after the rescue aircraft.

‘This is yours?’ she asked, glad of distraction.

‘My pride and joy,’ he told her, ‘and the two people standing beside it are my—well, mother and father, Hallie and Pop.’

He introduced Emma, explaining she was new to Braxton.

‘I’ve put a bit of food in a basket behind the seats,’ Hallie told them.

‘And Izzy packed us sandwiches,’ Marty said. ‘We might have to stop on the way home for a picnic.’

Everyone laughed, but the picnic idea had taken hold in Emma’s head. It was such a short flight back to Braxton, and eating on the way would be awkward.

‘If you’re driving me home and not in a hurry to get back to your place, we could picnic on my veranda,’ she found herself saying as they flew over the mountain range between the two towns. ‘The boys will be in bed, and Dad will happily join you for a beer if you fancy one, or a glass of wine if you’d prefer. I think after the day I’ve had I’ll be having one.’

The words rattled out of her mouth, and the pleasure she felt when he agreed was all to do with making friends—well, a friend.

And having worked with him and seen him with his family, she knew he’d be a good friend to have.

Or so she told herself.

But he would be a good friend to have, an inner voice insisted. Hadn’t he introduced one of the nurses to her husband?

Surely she wasn’t thinking he might do the same for her? This from the more sensible of her inner voices...

And she didn’t really want a husband, did she?

The thought reminded her once more of loss and pain—first her mother, then Simon. No, she couldn’t go through that again, the pain of loss was just too much to bear. But it would be nice to have a father for the boys.

The voices stopped arguing as the helicopter touched down back in Braxton, and Marty transferred wet clothes and the picnic goodies to his four-wheel drive.