Emma, page 9
‘You have a wonderful manner with the sick.’ Made her think how he’d be with birthing mums. ‘You haven’t even had a chance to be with us for a birth yet, have you?’
He shook his head. ‘When this craziness with the dengue settles, I hope to have the chance to see you at your work, if I can catch you.’ He glanced at her. ‘Hopefully I’ll get the time before I leave.’
She needed to remember he would drive away soon in his exotic car. ‘When do Angus and Mia get back?’
‘They make me smile to see them together.’ His eyes crinkled with his affection for Angus and his wife, and she was surprised how the thought of his impending departure deepened the ache in her heart.
He shook his head at some memory he didn’t elaborate on and then remembered her question. His sculptured lips quirked. Be still my heart, Emma thought, and dragged her eyes away.
‘An answer? Sorry. A little over two weeks. They wish to spend a week in Paris before they come back. They tried to convince Louisa to meet them there, but she will not leave.’
‘Perhaps Louisa needs more time. And Paris. Mia will love that.’ She guessed Gianni had seen Paris and a lot of other places she hadn’t visited. He was in a different league from her. Travel wasn’t on Emma’s agenda. Especially now.
Maybe in twenty years. When her ‘children’ were grown. Oh, God. If she didn’t have the gene...
She couldn’t imagine such a time, but the moment was coming when she needed to face that fear and find out once and for all. But she couldn’t do it now.
When they entered the kitchen, Louisa looked up with a warm smile at her unexpected visitor. ‘Emma. How lovely to see you.’ She looked at Gianni and shared her smile with him. ‘And how was your day, young man?’
Emma stifled the urge to laugh. ‘Young man’ made him sound like a schoolboy and he was far from that, though the smile he gave Louisa gave a glimpse of the carefree boy he must have once been.
‘We must be fed,’ he whispered to Emma, and Gianni moved to the kitchen table and held the chair for Emma, who had no choice but to sit.
To Louisa he said, ‘My day has been busy, like every day since your stepson left. I think it is a conspiracy to get all of his work out of the way before he returns.’
It seemed Gianni and Louisa had no problem communicating. This was a different side to the man she knew. Where had this playfulness come from?
‘Tut. To earn your keep. As you should.’ Louisa winked at Emma and turned back to the stove. ‘Now, I’ve just boiled the jug and have scones, fresh from the oven.’
‘I will be fat,’ Gianni stated as he reached for a scone.
‘Pshew.’ Louisa looked at Emma. ‘He runs every morning along the lake.’ She looked at the pile of scones. ‘I’ll bundle up a few for you to take home, Emma. Keep them in the freezer for guests. Those brothers of yours are always dropping in at your house.’
The conversation turned to Russell and Craig’s admission to hospital and the prospect of further cases to come. The health department was sending out an assessor and relief staff were coming in.
Half an hour passed swiftly and Emma realised that, apart from work, she’d needed a dose of the outside world, and conversations other than those repeating in her brain. Slowly, in Louisa’s kitchen, she began to feel less desperate and disconnected. She hadn’t realised how alone she’d felt in the last week, rushing from work to home, obsessed with dodging Gianni.
It was good to sit beside him, buffered by Louisa, having a normal conversation and not living in dread. It was good to see the everyday side of him that Louisa saw.
‘It’s a crisis for a small hospital like ours,’ Emma was saying when the phone rang.
Louisa shoed Gianni away from it as he went to stand. ‘Have your tea,’ she said.
She answered the phone herself then she looked across at them. ‘Yes. Emma is here and Gianni is, too. You want her?’ She handed the phone to Emma. ‘It’s Montana.’
Chapter Eighteen
Gianni
Gianni watched Emma’s face, having missed her with an aching need that grated with a rawness he hadn’t expected. Now he could see her he felt more settled. Then he saw her frown and glance at him. He hoped Montana’s call was not going to take her away from him now that he had finally managed to capture her company.
‘I’ll come straight away,’ she said before hanging up the phone, and Gianni frowned. There must be something wrong.
‘Montana needs a quick hand. Will you come with me? A post-partum haemorrhage with a birthing mum.’
‘Yes, of course I will come,’ he said, but he was speaking to Emma’s back and he hurried to catch her as she strode swiftly across the grass to the rear of the hospital where the little birthing centre was situated.
When they arrived, Montana and the nurse with her had helped the new mother from the bath and returned her to bed.
Gianni glanced at the pool of red. It would be hard to tell the extent of a bleed in the bath, but from the little he’d seen of this unit, Montana would be no careless attendant and would have moved swiftly at any deviation from normal.
‘This is Elise and Trent,’ Montana said as the nurse pressed a warm blanket around the mother’s upper body.
Trent sat with his shirt off and his new baby skin to skin against his chest. A blanket lay across his shoulders as he looked on helplessly. Montana massaged the woman’s belly to encourage the uterus to contract and took the second warm blanket Emma handed her. They spread it over Elise’s legs.
The woman appeared pale and shocked, and Gianni swiftly inserted the second intravenous cannula that Montana indicated and took the bloods for the clotting factors and cross-matching she wanted.
Post-partum haemorrhage, most often due to the failure of the uterine muscle to clamp down on the richly blood-vesselled bed inside the uterus, could bleed at an alarming rate. The husband certainly looked alarmed, and Gianni could well imagine thoughts that would run through a man’s brain as his wife bled so dramatically in front of him.
Christos, he knew that feeling, he thought as he worked. He had watched his own wife die from snakebite miles from any help. Gianni had watched Maria’s life slip away, but there was little risk of that here with what was available, so he nodded with empathy to the man as he completed his task. ‘All will be well.’
Emma loaded and hung the medicated flask with the drug most often used to help the muscles of the uterus contract and gave a further drug as a separate injection. Montana continued to rub Elise’s uterus though the skin of her belly and gradually the flow slowed to a trickle and finally stopped completely.
Gianni and Emma’s eyes met with relief and Emma slid the blood-pressure cuff over Elise’s arm while Montana assessed the woman’s pulse as she spoke to Gianni. ‘It started slow, so wasn’t too bad before we got out of the bath, but it flowed once we made it to the bed.’
‘Pulse is ninety-eight.’ Montana stripped off her gloves and brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘Nurse and I should be fine. Now. We’ll call if we need more help. Thanks for coming, both of you.’
‘No problem. It’s always easier with more hands,’ Emma agreed, and let the cuff down. ‘BP’s eighty-five on forty-five, but that should pick up now the other fluids are running in.’
Elise smiled feebly and Emma glanced at the woman’s husband. ‘You okay, Trent?’ Emma knew them both well from antenatal classes.
He wiped his face shakily with his hand and glanced down at the baby snuggled into him. ‘I guess. I just won’t look at the blood. And this little bloke seems happy. You guys are amazing. I’m glad we decided to have our baby here and not at home.’
Emma smiled. ‘The midwife would have had the same gear in her kit, but it’s easier to get help here, certainly.’
Trent nodded. ‘I could see Montana had it under control, but more hands do it quicker.’
‘And that’s enough excitement for today,’ Montana said, ‘so we’ll keep a good eye on Elise to make sure she doesn’t do anything else interesting.’
She and the nurse tidied up around Elise and re-checked her observations before they unglued her new son from his father’s chest and shifted him onto his mother. Gianni stood back and watched the calm and unhurried arrangement of baby and mother and glanced around the now tidy room.
This was such a different birth setting from those he had seen in Italy. Very quiet. Very understated with technology, yet prepared, in case help was needed. They’d obviously practised their emergency drills to work so seamlessly and swiftly. He would enjoy learning more about the way the centre, and especially one midwife with a nurse helper, worked. He hoped he’d have the chance.
He glanced at Emma as she watched the mother attach her baby to the breast and was surprised to see such a broken look on her face. His heart clenched at the raw pain he could see, and unconsciously he moved closer to her, but as soon as he shifted the spell was broken. She cast him a glance of … was that pure panic? Hard to tell when she turned her shoulder to him.
Montana thanked them again; it was time for them to go and they left her and the new parents to enjoy their baby.
Gianni regretted that the fragile truce between Emma and himself had somehow been severed. He had the impression she would run from his side if she could.
Once they reached the path outside the hospital grounds, he held up his hand to stay her and she flinched, a reaction that sent the pain from her aversion shooting through him. What was this? What had happened? ‘Emma?’
‘I have to go,’ she said hurriedly and turned, as he’d feared she would. She fled. Gianni watched the distance between them grow rapidly, and with increasing suspicion he allowed the wheels in his mind to begin to turn.
Her daughter was away for the night and she would be alone. Perhaps tonight was a good time for Emma and him to talk… if she would allow him into her home.
Chapter Nineteen
Emma
Emma knew Gianni would come. Would find her while she was by herself. She contemplated briefly visiting Montana or Misty so that he couldn’t speak to her while her defences were down.
Because that was what had happened today.
She bunched the hair on the back of her head into her fists and closed her eyes. It was all so complicated and melodramatic and she was sick and tired of the endless circles that had been spinning in her head for a week. Sick of the subterfuge at work, the avoidance, which had been difficult enough while she’d had birthing women, but would be impossible when she had a shift in Emergency.
It was time to be open.
She wasn’t a coward and despite the complications he might add, she knew she had no right to keep Gianni in the dark about his own child. She’d just needed time to get it straight in her own head first and he would have to forgive her that.
It might have been easier if she didn’t like and admire Gianni – if like was all it was.
She was so aware of him.
So attuned to his thoughts and his moods and his intentions that she suspected there was more than “like” involved. On her side anyway. But she couldn’t love him. Had promised herself she wouldn’t fall in love.
The lonely, attracted Emma had been so sure little harm could come of letting her guard down once. Well, now she knew better.
Chapter Twenty
Gianni
When Emma opened the door, Gianni couldn’t help but notice the skitter of panic in her blue eyes and wonder how he had caused such negative emotion in this woman. She would be the last person he wished to hurt.
But he would go if she wished. ‘Will you speak with me, Emma?’
‘Come in,’ she said, though the words didn’t echo her actions because her body didn’t move. It looked as if she needed to force herself to step back to allow his entry.
Should he not have come? He hesitated, but she did move away from the door and walked deeper into the house. Vastly relieved to not be excluded from her home, he followed.
They had discussed the need to allow the attraction between them to be accepted as a gift with no shame or guilt, but something had changed. Perhaps this was about Emma, and the gene of her family that she will not share with him. Not about them at all.
Something was wrong.
Emma stopped in the family room and turned to face him but didn’t sit down as she hovered indecisively in the middle of the room. ‘Why are you here, Gianni?’
‘Why?’ He tried to understand her mood. The mixed signals she sent and the emotions in her blue eyes. He realised that reading unspoken sentiment from women was not something he was at all skilled at. ‘Because something is wrong. Why are you afraid of seeing me? Talking to me? Are you afraid of me?’
She sighed and he heard the weight of exhaustion in her voice. She sounded so tired and he wanted to wrap his arms around her. Pull her close and stroke her hair. What was wrong with Emma? Was there some other medical condition he knew nothing of?
She lifted her hand and held it to her throat. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Gianni. At times when I’m with you I feel the safest I’ve ever felt.’
This was good. His breath puffed out. He’d been unaware he’d stopped breathing as he’d waited. It was amazing how light that admission made him feel. Perhaps dangerously so. ‘Then what is the matter between us?’
He could read the struggle in her eyes and the indecision that crossed her face, but not the cause.
Then she said it.
‘I’m pregnant.’ Baldly, and it was the last thing he expected. ‘We’re pregnant. Despite the precautions we both took.’
He could feel the shock reverberate through him like a seismic wave crashing through his chest, smashing against his heart. Something he’d never expected to be faced with because he’d prided himself on his care.
A baby? It couldn’t be. He shook his head at the idea this could be possible. ‘We took good precautions.’
She sighed. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘There has been no one else?’ He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth but, in view of his own past, they needed to be said. He’d been duped before. But he regretted the spasm of pain that crossed Emma’s face. It seemed the answer was no.
‘I’m not going to have a slanging match with you, Gianni. But don’t—’ she paused as if to control herself, before continuing in the same soft clear voice ‘—ever doubt me again.’
‘My apologies.’ He too spoke softly, but he could hear the stiffness in his own voice while his mind reeled. ‘My wife told me she carried another’s child just before she died.’
A child? Of Emma’s and his.
He did not dispute that he’d enjoyed their brief affair, and since then what little time he’d spent with Emma had been a joy, but to be family? With a woman he barely knew... if perhaps not barely in the biblical sense.
His mind fired off in a hundred directions.
Speaking of which, he didn’t even know her religion – and now his child was involved. If they moved to Italy, perhaps she would convert. Now was not the time for choices. The path was there and he would take it. And so would she. It was the correct thing to do.
‘We must be married.’ His voice sounded quietly resolute despite the turmoil inside him.
‘Spare me,’ she muttered and brushed hair out of her eyes.
In further shock he realised that the answer was no foregone conclusion. The unthinkable slapped him in the face. She was going to refuse.
And did. ‘A proposal? No, thanks.’
He opened his mouth and shut it again. Squared his shoulders. Remembered she was pregnant and probably more emotional than he was. Said with careful gentleness. ‘It is the correct thing to do.’
‘Really?’ Now she did sink down onto the couch, as if her legs no longer supported her, and he sank down next to her.
‘Emma,’ he started but she cut him off.
‘I have a daughter who doesn’t know you.’ She gestured to the simple room. ‘A family, a place I love.’ She looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Work I love, that I spent my teenage years making possible. I can manage here with another child. I’ve already proved that.’
‘You have proven yourself in the past to be strong and independent, but now you must let me help.’
She threw her hand out toward him. ‘You? You are passing through, have come from another continent.’ She drew a deep breath as if to steel herself. ‘And I have a disease that made me promise myself I would never marry. You need a woman who can provide your family with a bloodline.’ She shook her head. ‘That woman isn’t me.’
His heart sank with the thought. The blow landed but he barely absorbed it. Waved his hand. All that could not matter. He was the father of this child.
And then the ramifications of her statement sank in. ‘Do you know that for sure? Have you tested positive for the gene?’
He saw the moment when she understood he already knew. The shock, the idea of his acceptance, the disbelief that he understood. All the major reasons she’d put the barrier between them.
Now he understood.
Poor Emma.
Dear, sweet, Emma. ‘Still, I would be there for you and our child.’ He paused as he remembered that not only Emma, but Grace and this new baby would be involved. ‘Children.’
‘It’s worse than I imagined. You’d sacrifice your life because of a stake in the child I’m carrying?’
‘No sacrifice. A child is always a blessing,’ he said softly and the words resonated around in his chest. Yes. He believed that.
But she was shaking her head. ‘Don’t you see? Either I have the gene, and Grace and this child are at risk as well, or I haven’t got the gene and my life is still to be here for the people I love who have not escaped.’ She gestured with her hand to the window and the lake outside. ‘My life is here and yours is elsewhere.’
