Was that what had brought her back here? Family? The baby’s maternal grandparents lived here. The slower-paced, outdoors-orientated lifestyle was perfect for a young child. Sasha had lots of friends here who were probably starting families round about now. Who had she settled down with? Someone local that he knew? Or an outsider who’d fallen under Sasha’s spell? Like he had the very first time he’d set eyes on her as she’d rowed her dinghy into the beach and tossed the anchor at his feet. He’d been young and horny and in lust. Which had quickly turned to young and horny and in love.
Where was her man anyway? Grady scowled. He wouldn’t have let her out alone at this hour, driving in these horrendous conditions. Yeah, but this was Sash. The woman who never listened to anyone’s advice. The girl with enough confidence for a whole team of downhill skiers. That had been one of her attractions. That and her smarts, and her enthusiasm for just about everything—except spiders and mashed spuds.
Never in a month of dry Sundays had he expected to feel so disorientated when he saw her. He’d honestly believed he’d be cool, calm and casual. He’d had an hour to prepare. He’d been sitting at the same table as Mike, listening as the guy had rung around the emergency volunteers, getting them on the road to help Sasha with a road accident.
The only word that had registered in his brain had been ‘Sasha’. Immediately excitement had rolled through him. He was going to see her. For eleven years he’d stayed away, wondering how she fared, if she’d forgiven him, and could they be friends again—and now all he could think was what he’d missed out on. His gut roiled. Sasha, his one true love. Out of reach for ever. And no one to blame except himself.
How could I have been so stupid to think I’d get over her if I tried really hard? Talk about impossible.
Pain bounded around his chest. His head spun so fast it hurt. His gut had crunched down hard, feeling like it held a solid ball of concrete. So much he wanted to know, yet he couldn’t ask her a thing.
‘Ask what?’ came the sharp tone of the woman he wanted to pretend wasn’t within touching distance.
Inside the ambulance he ducked to avoid smashing his head on the overhead cupboards. ‘Nothing,’ he muttered, because he truly couldn’t think what to say. Most things that came to mind would be incendiary. Certainly not conducive to good working relations.
A cupboard door slid shut with a bang. ‘What area of medicine did you specialise in?’
So she knew he’d finally trained as a doctor. She must’ve thought of him occasionally, then. Was that good? Or bad? He told her, ‘I chose general practice. I like the community aspect best.’
‘I get that.’ Sasha surprised him with a smile. A very brief flicker but he’d take it. It melted some of the forced wariness that had settled on his heart the moment he’d seen her head popping up from behind that bank where the truck had crashed. The chill had been about him, not her. A hopeless attempt to shut down any leftover feelings he had for this beautiful, feisty woman.
She’d been a girl-slash-woman when he’d fallen in love with her. Seventeen going on thirty. Unafraid of anything, whether it had been taking her dad’s plane up for a spin, galloping her horse at breakneck speed along the beach, or diving for scallops out in the bay. She had always got her own way by sheer willpower. People had either gone with her or stepped aside to watch with envy her latest escapade. Watching her now, she seemed very much in control.
Voices reached them, and then thankfully men appeared at the entrance to the interior of the ambulance. Jonty was telling them, ‘Go easy with that stretcher, guys. Lucy doesn’t need any more knocks.’
Sasha took the top end and guided the stretcher onto its frame, before deftly clicking all the locks in place. Lucy wasn’t going anywhere she shouldn’t.
Grady moved closer, looking their patient over, fighting to ignore Sasha’s presence as her arm rubbed against his when they both leaned over the stretcher. Heat spilled through him. Heat that woke up parts of his body best left asleep right now. Heat he did not need around Sash. Focus on Lucy. Head wound, right arm at an odd angle, suggesting a fracture, laboured breathing. Sliding a hand under Lucy’s torn blouse, he carefully felt her ribs. No problems there. One point in her favour.
‘The GCS was nine when I first checked Lucy and it hasn’t changed,’ Sasha informed him. ‘She came round twice very briefly earlier and asked about Sam, before losing consciousness again.’
The Glasgow Coma Index. Borderline severe. Not a good sign. Grady’s fingers worked along Lucy’s hairline then over her head. ‘I’m guessing she hit the dashboard when the truck flipped.’
‘The wound above her temple was still bleeding moderately when I reached her.’
He gently lifted the padding at one corner. ‘It’s stopped now.’
‘One thing to be thankful for.’ Sasha’s tone was perfectly reasonable, normal. Totally unaffected by his presence.
Guess she’d long got over him. Which, considering her pregnancy, should be mighty obvious even to his sluggish brain. He must’ve done a good job of telling her to get on with her life without him in it because the results were very clear. Sash was going to become a mother in a few months’ time. She hadn’t done that on her own.
The green-eyed monster lifted its head, roared inside his skull. Who was the lucky bastard? Did he treat her well? Did she love him? Completely and utterly? Passionately? Of course she did. That was the only way Sash did anything. Grady wiped his hands down his jeans, removing a sudden coating of sweat. ‘We need to splint Lucy’s arm.’
He’d spoken more brusquely than he’d intended and received a perfectly arched eyebrow kind of glare for his trouble. ‘Sure.’
It was as easy as that for Sash. Except her fingers had a slight tremble as she handed him the splint. Interesting. And confusing. Talk about mixed messages. Not only were those fingers trembling, they were covered in rings. Was one of them a wedding ring? The silver one on her wedding ring finger had a tiny butterfly etched into the metal. Not a likely wedding ring, even for Sasha.
They worked quickly and efficiently, routine emergency care that neither of them had any difficulty with. Grady asked in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage, ‘Where have you been working? Before Takaka?’ Sasha had been planning on starting her training only weeks after the last time they’d been together. They’d finished high school and had been enjoying their last summer holidays before hitting the adult world.
‘In the emergency department at Christchurch Hospital for a year.’ She gently lowered Lucy’s arm by her side. ‘Now I’m the community nurse around here while the centre’s usual nurse is on maternity leave.’
‘Must be something in the water,’ Grady muttered.
‘Here I’d been thinking it was all to do with loving relationships.’ Suddenly her tone could have slayed rampaging bulls.
A quick glance showed the anger spitting out at him from those beautiful emerald eyes. Anger and something else he couldn’t make out. Hurt? Disappointment? It had come and gone so fast he didn’t have time to work out exactly what that emotion had been.
‘Sash, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant.’ Once he’d have been able to say anything to her and get away with it. That had been before bust-up day. Eleven birthdays and Christmases ago. A doctor’s degree ago. Two broken relationships ago. Relationships he hadn’t cared enough about to make work.
‘My name is Sasha.’ Words as cold as that ice outside fell into the silence.
Not to me you’re not. His heart cracked wide open at her rebuff. He hadn’t set out to be overly friendly by using his pet name for her. But he’d always called her Sash. He hadn’t learned not to. All these years he’d thought about Sash, not Sasha. That was everyone else’s name for her. She used to protest at anyone calling her Sash—except him. Seemed he’d been relegated to the slush heap. His shrug was deliberate and heavy. ‘Sasha.’
The door opened and cold air hit them as Mike and the guys hoisted the second stretcher on board w
ith Mr Donovon strapped down tight.
Their patient roused himself enough to croak out, ‘How’s Lucy?’
‘She’s stable, Sam.’ Sasha held the older guy’s hand for a moment, spoke in a very caring way, nothing like she’d talked to him. ‘I’m glad you’re out of that truck.’
‘You and me both, lass.’
Mike nudged his way between Grady and Sasha. ‘Let’s take a look at you, Sam, before we get on our way.’
‘Are you driving over to Nelson?’ Sasha’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve just come over the hill and it’s not good. Took me a lot longer than normal.’