Wade's Woman Page 6

  What a pleasant scene of domesticity they made, the two men cooking chops and sausages while she and Michelle prepared the salads. The weather had changed dramatically from the gales of the previous day when they had dramatically rescued Roy Robson. Now, although it was cold, the sun was sparkling on the distant hillside and glittering on the now heavy fall of snow.

  "Has Ryan phoned in about him?” Michelle asked.

  Tara began to place the cutlery on the long kitchen table ready for lunch. “Yes. They've operated and removed the branch. As Ryan suspected, it had punctured his lung but by some sort of freak missed his heart. He's heavily sedated still and they have him on a drip feed of antibiotics to counteract any infection."

  "Roy and Sally were very lucky you were driving by, Tara. But I can't understand why Sally didn't just phone for help."

  David pushed open the door carrying a tray loaded with cooked meat and onions. “I gather they don't have a phone any more,” he said, placing the tray in the warm oven. “They use their mobile, but when Sally went to call the batteries were flat."

  Michelle made a sympathetic murmur. “How dreadful! It certainly pays to keep them charged up.” She nuzzled into David's shoulder and he placed an arm around her waist.

  "You make sure I can always reach you, my darling,” he said, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Especially now you're going to have our little girl."

  Tara smiled at their show of tender affection. “Do you know it's a girl?” she asked.

  David laughed. “Not yet, but we're hoping."

  Suddenly the noise level rose as Ryan strolled in accompanied by the two children yelling for their lunch. Dumping a plate of crispy cooked potatoes on the table, Ryan held up both hands in mock despair. “Please, Michelle, feed these hungry monsters. They are driving me crazy!"

  Tara joined in the laughter as everyone settled down at the table and began to eat.

  "Wine, Tara?” David hovered over Tara's glass with a bottle of Chablis.

  "Just a small one, thanks."

  "Go on, Tara. You can indulge. It's supposed to be your day off,” Ryan teased, his arm brushing hers as he reached for the bread.

  "Do you know that this woman won't take any time out?” he continued. “I have told her she is entitled to two days off a week but she doesn't go anywhere and every night she stays at home helping me with the kids."

  Michelle gave him a friendly punch. “I don't think you know when you're well off, mate. You should be thankful that Tara's not out gallivanting in some of the ski resorts."

  Ryan slanted a grin at Tara. “Oh, believe me, I thank God every day for sending us Tara,” he said, and for a few moments there was a strange silence as they all stared at her, even the children.

  Tara could feel the colour rise in her cheeks as she met Ryan's steady gaze. She looked down, spearing a piece of potato on the end of her fork. “Oh, that's me all right,” she joked, her voice slightly husky “a regular saint."

  They laughed and the awkward moment passed, although Michelle looked very thoughtful as she cut up the children's meat.

  The mood became more sombre though as the afternoon wore on mainly because Ryan seemed to lose the fire and good humour of earlier. He was in earnest conversation with David discussing Roy's condition when Tara heard Ben shouting from the bedroom.

  "I'll go and see to him,” she said to Michelle who was serving fresh fruit and ice-cream for desert.

  "Right you are, sweetie. Looks like our men have settled in for one of their deep and meaningfuls,” she called out as Tara made her way to the bedroom.

  Tara allowed herself a secret smile. 'Our men.’ She liked the sound of it even though she'd felt embarrassed. She supposed it was one of those throwaway lines that meant nothing, but she had barely been able to hide the warm glow it triggered within her.

  Ben was standing up in the cot that Michelle had placed in the room and when he saw Tara, his face lit up in a huge grin. “Ta ta,” he gurgled, jumping up and down in his excitement at seeing her.

  "Hello, my lovely little man. Did you try and say my name? You are so clever.” Tara lifted him in her arms, covering his soft little face with kisses.

  "Ta ta,” Ben repeated pulling Tara's long coiled plait free from its pins so it fell down her back.

  "Hey, you're a ruffian, did you know that? And I think you need changing.” She laughed down at him as she changed his nappy and then after washing her hands in the en suite, she pulled on his little dungarees and held him close again.

  "Da da.” Ben wiggled, reaching out his arms and she turned to see Ryan behind them.

  "G'day, young Ben, have you had a great sleep?” Ryan took him from Tara and nestled him into his shoulder.

  "He said my name,” Tara blurted out, her eyes shining.

  "Did he just.” Ryan gently touched her hair. “I had no idea your hair was so long; it reaches to your waist,” he said. “Why don't you wear it loose sometimes?"

  Tara tensed at the caressing look in his eyes. “Oh, I ... I couldn't do that. It's unmanageable,” she stuttered as she wound it back into its normal coil around her head, her eyes watching his sensual mouth.

  "Unmanageable? Or are you still hiding from someone?"

  The question took her by surprise and she stilled. Fortunately Ben chose that moment to lean from his father's arms, little hands outstretched to her. “Ta ta,” he cried as she laughed and took him from Ryan.

  "Do you hear that, Ryan?” she asked and Ryan grinned, the question forgotten.

  * * * *

  It was later that evening when both children were in bed that Ryan turned the conversation to serious matters again.

  He had been writing up some patients’ notes in his study while Tara had settled in front of the television to watch a movie. She was pleasantly tired, having thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon with Michelle and David. She knew Ryan was on call and hoped that he wouldn't need to go out. He had looked tired earlier, his face unusually strained and pale. She hated it when he wasn't there. She was so used to him now that she missed him.

  She stacked another couple of logs on the fire.

  "Can I talk to you for a moment?” Ryan stood in the doorway, his face serious.

  Tara picked up anxious vibes from him. “Yes, of course. Is something wrong?” Had she done something to upset him?

  Ryan sat on the sofa next to her. Tara tensed, waiting.

  "I had a letter from the Family Court yesterday saying Carol has been granted visiting rights."

  Tara suddenly remembered to exhale, not realising she had been holding her breath. “When?"

  "In a week's time. She's coming here to fetch them and taking them back to Sydney for three weeks."

  "Oh, no!” Tara couldn't help the outburst. “But they'll be frightened. They don't know her!"

  She couldn't believe that Ryan was so calm as he shrugged his shoulders. “Emma will be okay. In fact, she'll probably like seeing her mother again, and Ben will soon get used to her."

  Tara wrung her hands, anguish showing on her face. “They won't understand, Ryan. Why are the courts allowing this?"

  "I think they're probably paving the way for Carol to have custody and for me to have occasional visiting rights."

  "Well, you must do something, for heaven's sake. You can't let this happen!"

  Ryan leaned back in his seat. “My hands are tied until we go to court. However, I'd like you to reconsider my proposal of a few weeks ago and marry me."

  Tara gaped at him. She couldn't have been more shocked. For some reason this was the last thing she had expected him to ask.

  "We could make it a contractual arrangement as you suggested. I'm pretty sure we'd get on okay. It would stop the gossip, but more importantly for me, if we are married I think it would give me a fighting chance when we get to court. You were right that it would provide a stable home environment for the kids."

  "But ... but surely you don't really think the court will take the children away from
you, do you?” Tara could hardly speak she was so overcome.

  "Yes, I think they will. I know Carol deserted them, but they will swing that around to make me appear a womaniser who drove her away by my behaviour. Or worse still, they'll split the kids up and she'll get Emma."

  For the first time Tara saw a crack in Ryan's armour as his eyes glistened with tears.

  "What makes you say that?"

  He turned then and held her hand between both of his, studying the fine bones and delicate skin.

  "Emma's not my child."

  The silence between them seemed to go on for minutes as Tara grappled with this information. What the hell could he mean?

  "Carol had an affair after we'd been married for about three years. I didn't know about it then and when she became pregnant with Emma I thought she was my baby. It wasn't until Emma was five and I was doing a routine blood match just in case we ever needed to give blood that I discovered she wasn't my daughter."

  "Oh, Ryan, I'm so sorry.” Tara gripped his hand, her eyes brimming with tears of sympathy.

  "It didn't make any difference. I have always loved Emma as if she was my own child,” he continued softly as if talking to himself. “In fact, I feel unbelievably protective of her, as if I'm shielding her from Carol's folly."

  Tara studied their hands linked together, Ryan's thumb caressing her soft skin. “Does Carol know that you found out about her affair?” she whispered.

  "Yes, I tackled her about it as soon as I realised, and she admitted to an affair with a lawyer friend of ours in Sydney. She begged my forgiveness and asked if we could start again, which I agreed to do. A year later Ben was born and before you ask, yes, he is my son."

  Tara pressed her lips together realising how hard this must be for Ryan to tell her such intimate things. “He looks like you,” she said, with a tiny smile.

  Ryan leaned over, lifting her chin so their eyes met. “I know I've got a damn cheek asking you to marry me, Tara, especially after you threw my offer back in my face, but I'd be less than honest if I didn't admit to feeling kind of desperate. If being married helps my custody case, then I'll go on my knees and beg you to marry me, if you prefer."

  "I don't think that will be necessary,” she replied with a shaky laugh. “I'm shocked, that's all. I don't quite know what to say."

  Ryan moved closer, his arm going along the back of the sofa behind her head, his dark eyes intent on hers. “Just say yes, Tara. We'll get married quietly while the kids are away with Carol. I think the fewer people who know the better. Perhaps we'll get a celebrant to marry us with Michelle and David as witnesses.

  "Unless of course, you have close family that you want to invite,” he added.

  "I don't have any close family,” Tara responded, her heart pounding at his closeness. She could feel the warmth from him and the tantalising smell of his aftershave. “Yes, I'll marry you, Ryan."

  She looked up into his eyes that flared with a strange satisfaction. “But I have a request of my own,” she continued, moving away so her back was against the arm of the sofa.

  "When people find out we're married, which they will of course, I would like them to think we have a ... normal marriage.” She stumbled over the words still aware of his closeness.

  "You mean as in sexual relations?"

  Tara blinked at Ryan's directness. “Yes,” she replied, her face burning. “Also, I would like you to be discreet about any relationships, not for my sake but for the children. It could jeopardise the custody case."

  Tara realised as she uttered the damning words that she had made a dreadful mistake as a shutter came across Ryan's face. He moved away from her.

  "I can assure you that I'll be the soul of discretion in conducting my “relationships,” as you call them, and I will make sure that there is no misunderstanding as to why we've married. Everyone will know that I'm so crazy about you that I can't keep my hands off you.” His voice was cool and dismissive as he stood up.

  "I don't know how one acts under these circumstances,” he said, looking down at her bent head. “But thank you, Tara. I think you'll find that I'll be a reasonable husband. I promise to treat you well and to protect you from whoever or whatever you're running from. It would seem we can do each other a huge favour. I'll make arrangements for our marriage over the next few days."

  She heard him go and then the study door close. Still she remained seated fidgeting with the buttons of her jumper. What a mess I made of that. I've offended him and yet I had to say those things. I couldn't bear it if he paraded a lover in front of me sometime in the weeks or months to come. He had given no indication of having affairs, but if he wasn't involved then why didn't he deny it? There was some reason why he wasn't telling her what went wrong with his marriage and she wondered if Carol was fully to blame for their problems. And yet wasn't she just as bad? Taking advantage of Ryan's vulnerable situation and securing herself a place in his life. A place where she would feel safe. Where no one could harm her.

  Tara sighed and closed her eyes, still regretting her hurtful question. In a few careless words she had taken them back to square one, to that night when she had first met this brooding, angry man. All the trust and comradeship they had built up in the past few weeks, she may have stupidly destroyed in seconds.

  * * * *

  "Hand me that dressing, please,” Ryan requested as they worked together in the surgery two days later.

  Tara quickly responded. It was the afternoon when Ryan conducted his day surgery outpatient clinic and Tara, as usual, assisted him. They were halfway through an unusually long list of patients requiring minor surgery, including removal of skin lesions and cysts plus various test requirements.

  Ryan had just removed several cancerous skin lesions from the forehead of an elderly farmer. “That will do for now, Mike,” he said, removing his gloves and washing his hands in the sink. “Remember to keep wearing a protective cream even in this weather."

  "No problem, Doc. Thanks. I don't know why they keep appearing, honest.” Mike stood up, shaking his heavy coat as he prepared to go.

  "It's not so much what you're doing now. It's all the damage the sun did when you were a young man and didn't bother with such things as sunblock cream,” Ryan replied, resting a hand on Mike's shoulder. “Come back and see me in six weeks time."

  Tara typed Mike's information into the computer as Ryan saw him out. Her fingers hovered over the keys for a moment as her eyes lifted to watch Ryan, his face set and brooding. He had been like this since Saturday when she had stipulated her rules if she was to marry him. And yet, she felt she had every right to expect such a courtesy from him. Tara wondered for a moment if his somber mood was all her fault. Perhaps it could be the fact that the children would be leaving him for three weeks. Probably both, she decided.

  Ryan pressed the intercom buzzer, which sounded at the reception desk. “Who's next, Lauren?” he asked.

  "Mrs. Marshall. I'm sending her in,” came the crisp response.

  "Thanks.” Ryan looked down at his patient records. “Can you prep for a local anaesthetic, please? I examined this patient this morning and she's got a nasty abscess on her leg which needs draining."

  Tara nodded as she quickly pulled on her surgical gown and fastened a mask across the lower part of her face. She efficiently set the instruments in place as Ryan greeted the woman at the door.

  "I can tell you I'm not looking forward to this, Ryan. I'm not sure I won't faint.” The attractive woman in her mid-thirties certainly looked a little pale as Ryan sat her down in the chair opposite him.

  "Helen, you'll be fine,” he reassured her. “Tara's going to clean the area with some antiseptic liquid, and then I'll give you a local anaesthetic involving a small prick with a needle. You won't feel a thing and we'll have you on your way in no time."

  "I'll take your word for it,” came the caustic reply. Tara smilingly helped Helen on to the operating table. While Ryan scrubbed up, she swirled the antiseptic around the wound s
ite and then held the injection out for Ryan.

  "Here we go,” he said quietly as Helen gave an exaggerated groan.

  Ryan made a small incision into the swollen abscess on her left lower leg and removed the matter. Tara instantly covered the affected area with a sterile drape to prevent any of the surrounding bacteria from entering the wound.

  "As easy as that,” Ryan said, pulling his mask down as Tara applied a dressing.

  "Thank heavens! And you're right, Ryan, I didn't feel a thing."

  "It will probably be a bit sore. I want you to come into the surgery in a couple of days so that Tara can check it and put on a clean dressing."

  Helen gingerly swung her legs off the operating table and Ryan placed a hand on her arm to help her balance.

  "I hear Carol's coming back to live with you,” she said, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at Ryan. Tara caught the sudden tension in the air—it could be cut with a knife. Ryan slowly removed his hand and Helen adjusted her clothing.

  "You know I don't discuss my personal life with my patients, Helen,” he said coolly.

  "Oh, come on rather more than a patient, Ryan. More of a very close friend, surely?” Helen replied with a brittle laugh. “Anyway, I'm just letting you know the latest town gossip. Thought you and Tara should know so you don't get taken by surprise, if you know what I mean."

  Ryan appeared to ignore her last remark as he held open the surgery door. “I think you'd better come in and see Tara about your diet soon. You could be a trifle run down which can cause abscesses to occur.” He nodded politely as Helen departed with a whish of her skirt.

  Ryan closed the door and leaned against it. “Stupid woman,” he murmured and then gave a rueful smile. Tara responded with a grin, her heart suddenly hammering in her breast at the light in Ryan's eyes.

  "She's one of the women from whom I need to be protected,” he said pushing away from the door and coming to stand in front of her.

  "Is that another reason for needing a wife?” Tara asked softly, her eyes studying the sensual curve of his mouth.

  "I think I may have many reasons, Tara.” His lean hands cupped her face, his fingers caressed her prominent cheek bones. “It might be a good idea if we consider making this a real marriage with regard to the physical relations. Do you agree?"