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She removed the dressing again for Henry to take a look. He nodded, agreeing with her assessment.
Maia handed him the local anaesthetic, pre-empting his request, and then prepared a suture kit while they waited for the anaesthetic to kick in. They worked smoothly together, their moves practised as Henry chatted to Bailey about cricket and rugby. Maia loved rugby but didn’t really understand the attraction of cricket and she wasn’t interested in listening to them discuss their favourite teams and players. She was busy thinking about other things. She was standing beside Henry’s right shoulder, snipping the thread each time he finished a stitch. She didn’t need to focus; her mind was free to wander and she let it drift as she watched his fingers pinch and move as he deftly sewed up Bailey’s head wound.
He looked like he was conducting a mini-orchestra. His hands moved to their own silent beat. His fingers were long and slender, his forearms were strong. He was wearing a short-sleeved surgical top, a dark blue one that made his eyes look even darker than usual, and his olive skin was lightly tanned, even though he’d just returned from a Northern Hemisphere winter. She wondered what colour the skin under his clothes was.
That was a dangerous direction for her thoughts to take. She quickly tried to think about something else. She breathed deeply as she tried to refocus her mind. But all that happened was she breathed in Henry. She was standing so close to him that all she could smell was the scent of clean laundry and that citrus-and-cedar aftershave, and every breath she took filled her senses.
‘Henry?’
Brenda stuck her head around the curtain and Maia jumped. She felt a guilty flush steal across her cheeks even though she was guilty of nothing more than wayward thoughts. But Brenda’s appearance was enough to break the spell. Maia took a small step back, putting a little bit of distance between Henry and her.
‘Adam’s X-rays are back.’
‘Okay. Can you put the dressing on?’ Henry asked as Maia cut the final thread. ‘I’ll follow up on Adam.’
Henry swapped cubicles and Maia breathed out. She hadn’t realised that she’d been holding her breath but it must have been protective tendencies. If she couldn’t smell Henry, she could think. It was good that he was gone. She needed a bit of distance. Despite telling herself that Henry’s return didn’t matter and that it wasn’t going to affect her, she knew that was a lie. She hoped he’d spend a lot of time in Theatre and on the wards—anywhere away from Emergency. She didn’t know how she could be expected to function normally if she had to work closely with him.
She put a new dressing on Bailey’s head and pulled the curtain back so the boys could see each other. Henry had his back to her as he studied Adam’s X-rays. He held them up to the light and Maia was about to leave him to it when she heard Carrie’s voice on the other side of the curtain, and another stranger came into the cubicle. Another woman. But this time Maia knew immediately who she was. The boys’ mother. It wasn’t that she looked particularly like them but Maia could tell by the way she rushed in and ignored the adults in the room completely as she sought out her children. Maia might as well have been invisible. The woman hesitated for just a fraction as if trying to choose which of her sons to hug first but chose Bailey. He was closer.
Henry turned around at the sound of a new voice and Maia noted the woman’s double-take when she saw Henry. As concerned as she was for her children, part of her, possibly just her female hormones, still couldn’t help reacting to Henry. It seemed he wasn’t quite as invisible as Maia was. Not that Maia could blame her. There weren’t many people, men or women, who were immune to Henry’s looks. He was a strikingly handsome man. Maia’s glance went instinctively to the woman’s left hand to see if she was single. Not that it was any of her business. She tried not to care but she didn’t want other people noticing Henry. Although she knew that was impossible.
‘Mrs Evans?’ Henry queried as the woman kissed Bailey and then moved over to hug Adam. ‘I’m Dr Henry Cavanaugh,’ he went on when she nodded. ‘I’m an emergency specialist at the hospital and Maia and I have been treating your sons. They are both fine. They’ve sustained relatively minor injuries but, all things considered, they’ve been very lucky. Bailey has a few small cuts that have been cleaned and dressed but he also had one larger gash on his head which required ten stitches—just here.’ Henry touched his own head just at his hairline. ‘He’ll need to get those out in a week. Your GP might be happy to do it or you can bring him in here.
‘Adam has a fractured knee cap,’ Henry continued as he slid one of the X-rays into the light box on the wall. This X-ray showed a lateral view and Maia could see the dark line indicating the break running across the middle of Adam’s patella. Henry traced his finger over the line. His fingers were slender and capable, his hands smooth and hairless. Maia forced her attention back to the matter at hand and listened as Henry told Mrs Evans what had happened. She needed to pay attention; she would need to write discharge summaries for the boys.
‘It’s not serious. A transverse fracture of the patella is not particularly common but it matches with Adam’s age and the injury history. The physio will be along shortly to fit him with a splint and we’ll make an appointment with an orthopod to review his progress in two weeks. He should expect to stay in the splint for four weeks and then he will need physiotherapy. You can take the boys home as soon as the physio has taught him how to use crutches.’
‘Adam gets crutches?’ Bailey sulked.
The boys’ mother laughed. ‘Now I know you’re okay,’ she said.
Henry high-fived both of the boys. ‘Maia, can you ring Outpatients and set up a review for Adam in a fortnight?’
Maia nodded. They had worked well together. No awkwardness. There had been no time to worry about anything other than their patients. She was right—Henry being back wasn’t going to affect her.
Henry scrubbed his hands as he prepared to go into Theatre, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts. He hadn’t had a moment of solitude since he’d bumped into Maia earlier today. If he hadn’t been working solidly with her all morning, he could almost have believed he was dreaming. They’d been treating their young patients nonstop for hours, and his day wasn’t over yet, but he needed just a little time to think.
He hadn’t been completely honest with Maia about his reasons for coming back to Christchurch. He’d been offered a grant, that much was true, but he’d been offered several and he’d accepted Christchurch partly because of her. He hadn’t come back for her but because of her. He had actually been happy here and he had Maia to thank for that. It had been many years since he’d felt truly happy, before Christchurch or since.
Six years ago his world had collapsed and as he’d recovered he’d made a decision. He would save the world, one disaster at a time, and if he couldn’t save the world then he would at least try to make a difference to one family at a time. That had put him on the path to emergency medicine and disaster management. He knew exactly how devastating losing loved ones unexpectedly in traumatic circumstances was and, if he could make a horrible, tragic situation better, then that was what he wanted to do. If it kept him busy day and night, that was a good thing. He had no desire to have a life of his own. His family didn’t get that now—why should he?
He’d been rudderless, almost homeless, for six years now. He hadn’t wanted to stay in one place; he knew that being settled without any family around would make him feel even more alone. Family couldn’t be replaced. Not even by another family. The risk was too great—something might happen to them too.
He’d decided it was better to remain alone, even if it meant being lonely, rather than risk his heart on love.
And then he had met Maia and he’d been tempted to change his mind. But he hadn’t been able to ask her to commit to a life of uncertainty with him when he hadn’t even been sure if he wanted that commitment. Yet he hadn’t been able to resist returning and so he was back in Christchurch. This city held some of his few cheerful memories, without any lurking ghosts, and he was sorely in need of some happiness.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_46aef44b-c692-56e7-b859-75f663db5792)
MAIA LOOSENED HER hair from the bun she’d worn it in all day and let it fall down her back in thick, dark waves as she and Carrie strolled along the banks of the Avon River towards the Stratford-on-Avon. The pub’s picturesque waterside setting, proximity to the hospital and well-timed happy hour all combined to make it a popular watering hole for the staff of the Children’s Hospital.
‘Can you stay for a feed tonight?’ Carrie asked as they pushed open the door and entered the pub.
Maia shook her head. ‘I’m singing tonight. The band has a gig at the Cathedral Square Hotel,’ she said as they ordered two bottles of cider.
Maia loved to sing. If she’d been good enough to make a living out of it, she would have tried, but her father had convinced her to have a career as well and she’d discovered nursing, which she loved just as much. But she sang as often as she could with a jazz band.
The girls took their drinks out onto the deck that overlooked the Avon River. Willow trees lined the bank, their sweeping branches dipping into the calm waters. It was a pleasant spot on a summer’s afternoon. They could watch the occasional punt taking tourists along the river or the university rowing crews on their afternoon trainings.
Today it was a rowing four that glided past as Maia asked, ‘Are you still okay to come to the dressmaker with me next week?’
‘Are you finally going to pick out the dresses?’
‘No.’ Maia laughed and sipped her cider. ‘I’m hoping you’ll do that.’ Carrie was Maia’s maid of honour and along with Maia’s three younger sisters would form the bridal party. The wedding was only six weeks away. Maia needed to stop procrastinating and make some decisions. Todd had done most of the preparation work. Maia had given her opinion but she wasn’t the one driving this.
‘I’m surprised he hasn’t given up on you,’ Carrie said. ‘You’ve made him wait for almost two years.’
‘Maybe he thinks I’m worth it.’ She grinned.
‘I’m sure he does. But what do you think? Is he worth it?’
‘He’s a great guy, anybody would be lucky to have him. I’m lucky to have him,’ she said but even she could hear the uncertain tone of her voice.
‘You don’t need to convince me,’ Carrie replied.
Maia didn’t answer; her mind was wandering, off on its own little tangent. They’d been engaged for eighteen months, since just before her dad had died. Was she lucky Todd was so patient or had she been secretly hoping that he’d get tired of waiting for her? Maia looked down the river as she pondered the question. The water was flat and green. A light breeze stirred the willow trees, making their leaves brush over the water. A rowing eight glided past, young, fit men wearing university colours disturbing the surface of the river as she stared off into the distance.
‘My dad loved Todd. He became like the son he’d never had. He gave us his blessing before he died and you know how important that is to me,’ she said, answering her own question. ‘Family was everything to Dad.’
‘I know that but are you sure you’re marrying him because you want to, not just because your dad approved? Are you sure it’s the right thing for you? Are you ready?’
She knew what Carrie was asking. She and Carrie had been friends for ever. They’d been friends before Maia’s dad had got sick, before Maia had met Todd, before everything. They’d been friends before boyfriends, even, and Carrie had been there every step of the way. She knew which boys had been important, which one Maia had loved and which one had left her heartbroken.
Carrie knew her history with Henry. She knew that Henry had broken her heart—unintentionally, but it had been broken all the same. It had taken a long time for the cracks to heal and Maia knew they could easily be prised apart. But, despite heartache, life went on. Todd had filled a gap for her and somewhere along the way he’d helped her look to the future. A future that was different from what she had dreamed of and hoped for in some ways, but getting married was Maia’s choice. She knew she’d been influenced by her father’s thoughts and feelings, and by circumstances, but it didn’t necessarily mean it was the wrong thing for her.
‘It’s a new year,’ Maia said in reply. ‘And my resolution was to look to the future and be happy with what I have.’ Todd might not have been her first love but he would be a good husband. He was loyal, trustworthy, dependable and he adored her.
But, if she’d known the future was going to bring Henry back into her life, would she have made a different choice? It was too late to ask that question.
‘Besides,’ she continued, ‘everything is booked—the cathedral, the reception venue, the cake, the photographer and the hairdresser.’
‘It can always be un-booked.’
Maia wasn’t so sure. ‘We posted the invitations yesterday.’
The wedding was six weeks away. The sun kept rising and setting, the days kept turning over, and suddenly she was near the end of her engagement. This was it.
Maia closed her eyes as she started another song. It was one of her favourites, made famous by Ella Fitzgerald. She left the microphone fixed into the stand but steadied it with one hand as she swayed in time with the music. She’d chosen to wear a long, black dress tonight and it brushed her calves and ankles as she moved. It was cut low in the front and hugged her curves but a split up one leg to her thigh allowed for movement. Sequins scattered over the dress caught the light. There were more than a few men in the bar who were watching her with interest but, for the moment, she was oblivious to the attention as she let her mind drift.
Tonight the band was performing in the piano bar of the Cathedral Square Hotel in the city centre. This had become a semi-regular gig for her and the band. There were five of them tonight: the pianist, the bass player, the drummer, the trumpeter and her. The band had a different repertoire for the nights when she was unavailable due to nursing shifts and on those nights the pianist became the lead singer.
A spotlight was focused on her but she wasn’t aware of it. When she sang she wasn’t aware of anything except the music and the lyrics. It was one of the things she loved about singing. It transported her to another world where she wasn’t thinking about work or weddings or loss.
The spotlight highlighted Maia’s exotic features. Her English and Maori heritage had blended together, giving her the best of both worlds. Her shape and colouring was courtesy of her Maori background on both sides of her family. Her round face, round cheeks, generous bust and generous hips, along with her masses of thick dark hair and brown eyes, were definitely Maori, as was her skin, with its hint of coffee. Her facial features were the image of her half-English mother, with the same almond-shaped dark eyes, finely arched brows and narrow nose.
She’d done her make-up tonight to suit the atmosphere of the piano bar. She’d painted her lips red and gone with dark, smoky eyes. She wasn’t normally much of a make-up wearer—she was far too lazy to bother most days and she never wore make-up to work—but she made an exception on the nights when she performed with the band. She enjoyed the chance to get dressed up and performing on stage was all about playing a role and she was determined to do her part justice.
Tonight’s performance was going smoothly. The crowd was reasonable; their first set had been well received and the applause was reassuring. Some nights Maia felt invisible on stage despite the spotlight.
She was pleased to have this gig tonight; it meant less time to think about Henry’s reappearance. Despite her reassurances to Carrie, Henry’s return had unsettled her more than she was prepared to admit. She had been twenty-two when they’d met, he’d been her first love and it seemed that neither her head nor her heart had forgotten him. But in a day or two she was sure she’d be fine. In a day or two she would have recovered from the shock of seeing him again.
She was halfway through a song, her eyes still closed, when she felt an odd stirring in the air as if someone had opened a window and let a breeze in. The breeze floated past her, caressing her skin and whispering in her ear. She opened her eyes and looked out into the crowd.
He stood by the bar on the far side of the room, watching her.
She watched him back. There weren’t many things that could distract Maia when she was singing, but there was always one exception to any rule, and she knew this man was it.
He had showered and changed after work and he wore a black business shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Maia’s eyes swept across his chest and followed the line of his arms before drifting down to his narrow hips which were encased in a pair of dark jeans. He had one hand hooked into the pocket of his jeans and in the other he held a glass of beer. He raised the glass towards her in a silent salute. Maia felt the breeze brush over her again and this time it whispered his name.
Henry.
Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes locked and she lost her place in the song. Even at this distance she could see the intensity in his indigo eyes and feel the heat in his gaze. Warmth flooded through her, pooling in her belly, and she couldn’t even begin to try to find the words to continue singing. She had been swaying to the music but now she was worried that her knees were going to give way beneath her. She gripped the microphone stand with both hands as she tried to keep herself upright. She turned her head to look at the pianist, breaking eye contact with Henry in the process. Sean, the pianist, mouthed the words to her and somehow she managed to pick up the pieces and finish the song with a breathless voice and her eyes tightly shut.
As the song wrapped she didn’t give the band a chance to launch into the next one. The moment the music ended, she stepped away from the microphone and said, ‘Can we take a short break, guys?’
‘Is everything all right?’ Sean asked.
Maia nodded. ‘Everything’s fine,’ she lied.
Things were definitely not all right.
She didn’t remember stepping off the stage or walking through the bar but she must have done so because now she was standing in front of Henry.
‘Hello, Maia.’ His British accent caressed her name and Maia’s knees wobbled again. His voice was deep and gentle and his blue eyes were smiling.
Was it only today that he had come back into her life? It felt like he’d never left. It felt like everything that had happened since had been a dream, or perhaps she was dreaming now.
He took her hands and kissed her on the cheek. They were not in the hospital now; there were no concerns about protocol. She closed her eyes and held her breath as her limbs turned to liquid. This was definitely not a dream.
Her heart raced as his lips imprinted on her skin. What was it about him that could do this to her? How was it possible that a simple kiss on the cheek could leave her breathless and excited and make her feel as if she could melt away? As if she could dissolve in a pool of desire? One kiss from Henry and she could feel herself unfurling, coming back to life. She thought she had been doing okay but now she realised she’d been surviving, not living. She’d been getting through her days, but the days had had a dullness about them. One kiss from Henry and the colours began to return.
How could he affect her like this after all this time? How could she let him?
She stepped back as annoyance overrode pleasure and guilt replaced desire. She’d forgotten all about Todd. She found it irritating that Henry could return after three years and immediately influence her like this. But she wasn’t sure who she was annoyed with—him or her.
She wouldn’t give in. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he still set her heart racing. It had taken her years to put her heart back together and she wasn’t going to let one kiss reopen the scar where it had healed.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I was on my way to my room and I thought I heard you singing. I thought I’d check.’
‘You’re staying here?’
He nodded. ‘Just until I can find some decent short-term accommodation close to the hospital.’ He pulled his room card out of his pocket. ‘Have you got time for a drink? My shout.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m working.’
‘Just a quick one, for old times’ sake. We’ve got some catching up to do.’
She looked into his indigo eyes and said, ‘It’s been three years, Henry. That’s a lot of catching up.’
‘Have dinner with me tomorrow, then.’
No. She couldn’t do that, for so many reasons. She didn’t trust herself. Or him. Her best defence was to stay as far away from him as possible, though that would be difficult, given they were working together. But she certainly didn’t have to complicate things further by agreeing to have dinner with him. She glanced back over her shoulder. The stage had been abandoned. The band had taken advantage of her abrupt exit and were taking a break—surely one quick drink couldn’t hurt? ‘One drink.’
There was an empty table beside them. Henry pulled out a chair for her and she sat. It seemed she lacked the willpower to refuse his invitation. No, she admitted, if only to herself, she didn’t lack the will power—she lacked the desire to walk away. She had never been able to resist him.
‘What can I get you? A glass of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc?’
‘No. I don’t drink wine if I’m singing.’ There was always the risk that her sinuses would become congested. ‘I’ll have a vodka, lime and soda.’
Henry signalled to the waitress and ordered Maia’s drink.
‘How was San Francisco?’ she asked, filling in the silence while she waited for her drink.
‘Interesting. I really liked it.’
‘You didn’t want to stay?’
He shook his head. ‘I left there a year ago. I’ve been in Tokyo for the last twelve months, studying the medical implications and response to tsunamis. It was time to come back and put what I’ve learnt about disaster management into practice.’
The waitress placed Maia’s drink on the table. Condensation settled on the outside of the glass and Maia wiped it off with one finger as she thought about all the things that Henry would have seen and done over the past three years. The diamond in her engagement ring caught the light and Henry’s eye as Maia ran her finger over the glass. He reached for her hand and just the barest touch of his fingers on her skin made her catch her breath. While she was connected to him she felt like she ceased to exist. As if nothing else mattered but the two of them. As if they were one.
She knew he shouldn’t have this effect on her still. Three years was a long time. It should have given her time to forget. Time had moved on. She had moved on. But her body didn’t seem to have received the same message.
His thumb rested in her palm as he turned her hand, and the solitaire diamond sparkled. ‘You’re engaged?’
She nodded. She’d taken it off her necklace and had slipped it back onto her finger as she was getting dressed tonight.
‘Anyone I know?’
‘Not really.’ The rapid beating of her heart made her voice sound breathless.
‘What does that mean?’
‘You saw him today but there was no time to introduce you.’ There’d been no reason to introduce them either but Maia knew she hadn’t wanted to.
‘The paramedic who brought Adam in?’
