Ryan strode down the corridor with his sleeping burden, knowing that things were changing inside him that he had no idea how to set right again.
Worry about it in the morning, he told himself firmly. These feelings… the feel of Abbey against him… the trace of perfume in her hair… the way her breasts curved in against him as she lay in his arms in total trust… What he was feeling was just a result of a crazy two days.
He had to sleep. In the morning he could go back to being Ryan Henry, hugely successful orthopaedic surgeon and future husband to Felicity, all over again.
In the morning…
CHAPTER FIVE
ABBEY woke to breakfast.
There was a smell of bacon, wafting around her, and her nose twitched in appreciation before she opened her eyes. When she did lift a cautious eyelid the first thing she saw was a breakfast tray.
The second was Ryan Henry.
‘Well, well.’ Ryan was lifting the lid from her eggs and bacon and nodding his approval of what lay underneath. ‘You’ve decided to join the land of the living. Excellent. I’d have let you sleep longer but I wanted to bully you into breakfast before clinic. I’ve heard you should always eat a big breakfast on the first day of your honeymoon. It’s medically recommended.’
‘I… You…’ Abbey winced and stirred-and then stared. This was crazy. Last night she’d settled down on a couch in the waiting room. Now… She cast a wary glance at Ryan and then cautiously lifted her bedclothes.
And yelped.
‘Is something wrong?’ Ryan enquired blandly.
‘My clothes…’ Abbey hauled her bedcovers up to her nose and glared. ‘What happened to my clothes?’
‘You sound as if you’re naked,’ Ryan complained. ‘Which, considering the amount of trouble Sister and I had getting you into a hospital gown, is a tad unappreciative. I know for a honeymoon you really should have something sheer and sexy-preferably black-but I’m afraid hospital green was all we could come up with.’
Abbey was no longer listening. She couldn’t care less what she was wearing. It was the identity of the person who’d dressed her-or rather who’d undressed her-that was important here.
‘Sister dressed me?’ she asked cautiously, sitting up with her bedclothes still up to her neck.
‘I helped, but only as far as was decent.’ Ryan smiled. ‘You don’t remember? Your clothes were disgusting. I was afraid they’d infect your scratches if we left you in them any longer.’
‘My T-shirt…’
‘I didn’t like it,’ Ryan said, as if that clinched the matter. ‘And your shorts were torn already.’
‘What have you done with my T-shirt and shorts?’ Abbey demanded in a voice that was loaded with portent For answer, Ryan pointed to a pair of scissors on the bedside table.
‘All gone.’ It was an imitation of Ted’s voice that he used when discussing a death. Pull of ghoul-like relish. ‘We disturbed you less by cutting them off. Ted took ‘em away to use as dusters down in the morgue. We figured that’s the best place for them. Now, if I were you, I’d eat some breakfast before it gets cold. Considering the amount of trouble Cook’s gone to on your behalf, letting this lot get cold would be a real shame.’
‘Ryan, I want my clothes.’
‘They’re in a million pieces.’ Ryan handed her a slice of toast. ‘Bite.’
Abbey bit. And glared.
‘Problem?’ Ryan enquired politely. He stood back with his arms folded and watched her-doctor watching interesting specimen. Ryan was dressed in fresh trousers and an open-necked, short-sleeved shirt. His wavy brown hair was neatly brushed. He looked like he’d had about twelve hours sleep instead of a scant six and he was showered and freshly shaved. Ryan Henry was a doctor in charge of his world again.
Which Abbey definitely wasn’t.
However, she was hungry. She bit into her toast once more, trying to get her thoughts in order. There’d been Janet’s casserole last night, but she’d eaten hardly any before they’d been called to help Sam. And the smell was fabulous.
‘What are you going to do about my clothes?’ It was tricky to talk with a mouthful of toast when one was concentrating on glaring at the same time, but Abbey managed it, no sweat.
‘Nothing,’ Ryan told her. ‘They were appalling. They certainly don’t deserve burial honours, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’
Abbey didn’t smile. She concentrated fiercely on her breakfast, not looking at Ryan. For some reason, the sight of Ryan Henry standing beside her bed, surveying her with an air of proprietary interest, unnerved her completely. Abbey lifted a piece of bacon and inspected it from all angles. And decided not to take offence at the bacon. In it went. ‘They were the only clothes I have,’ she said between mouthfuls.
‘Surely not!’ Ryan’s eyebrows rose in polite disbelief. ‘Abbey, I know you’re poor, but I find it hard to believe you spend your entire life as a doctor, a farmer and a mother dressed in the one T-shirt.’
‘OK, smarty-boots!’ Abbey glowered. ‘I meant they were the only clothes I have here. Ryan, you were supposed to take me home.’
‘You passed out before I could. I never send unconscious patients home. It’s against medical ethics. And you’ve been unconscious for over twelve hours.’
‘I was asleep. You knew very well I was just asleep.’ Abbey lifted a fork and attacked her egg-and then paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. ‘Did you say twelve hours?’ She swivelled to look at the bedside clock. And gasped. ‘Nine… Oh, glory, it’s nine o‘clock. Ryan, how could you?’ Her fork clattered onto her plate, forgotten, and her legs swung sideways.
To be blocked by Ryan.
‘So, where do you think you’re going?’
‘Home,’ Abbey said in a distressed voice. ‘Ryan, it’s nine o’clock. The cows will be frantic and Janet will try to milk them herself and there’s no one to look after Jack while she does, even if she could manage the milking, and-’
‘Ted’s organised your cows.’
‘Ted…’
‘I intended to milk them but Ted tells me there’s any number of local farmers willing to roster themselves to milk your herd,’ Ryan said. His hands moved to her shoulders and he held her still, brooking no argument. ‘Ted says the locals think the world of you. If you need help, all you have to do is ask. This morning Ted asked on your behalf. He was inundated with offers.’
‘No!’ Abbey’s face creased in distress. ‘I won’t ask for help. Everyone did so much. When John died… When he was in the coma… I was pregnant and they helped so much. Everyone helped. I don’t need help any more. We can stand on our own feet.’
‘You mean you don’t need their help ever again?’ Ryan asked.
‘No. I don’t. I won’t.’
‘Yet Ted tells me there’s not a person living within a thirty-mile radius of Sapphire Cove who doesn’t use your help,’ Ryan said thoughtfully. ‘You do house calls at all hours. You’ve bullied the government into subsidies so this hospital could be built. You’ve given the community medical treatment that’s never been available before. Ted says you give and give and give-and everyone wants desperately to give something back. What’s the old adage here, Abbey? It’s better to give than receive? Well, sometimes it’s only fair to let the giving be both ways.’
‘You don’t understand.’ Abbey shook her head and pushed her tousled curls back from her face. ‘Janet will-’
‘I’ve talked to Janet,’ Ryan told her. ‘I was out there an hour ago, checking everything was going OK. I’ve told her I’m keeping you in hospital today to give that leg a chance to settle. If you’re good then you can go home tomorrow. I’ve organised Marcia over the road to come and give Janet a hand with Jack-if necessary she’ll do that for the next week so you can rest-and the local farmers are arranging a roster system with the milking until your leg’s OK. Until I say your leg’s OK. And Janet… ’