Leah Martyn - A Mother for His Baby

Jo smiled wryly at that. ‘It has its ups and downs, staff-wise. If you’ve any expertise in any particular discipline, they’ll rope you in.’

‘I’ve done some anaesthetics,’ Brady said modestly.

‘You didn’t want to specialise?’

‘Not really. I much prefer my patients awake and talking. What about you? What do they rope you in for?’

‘I’ve some experience in paeds.’

He nodded. ‘So, would you be prepared to take AJ onto your list?’

She should have seen that coming. Jo gave a half-smile. ‘Seeing you’re a colleague…I take it he’s up to date with his shots and so on?’

‘Yes, Doctor.’

Jo made a face at him. ‘Dads are notorious for forgetting those small details,’ she said lightly.

‘But, then, I think we’ve established I’m no ordinary dad, am I?’

No. She guessed Brady McNeal wasn’t. He appeared to have taken on the Herculean task of being both mother and father to his baby boy. But she didn’t want to go there. There had to be some deep emotional issues swirling around in his past. Very deep. She guessed time would tell whether he would ever be prepared to share them.

‘The lady I have in mind for Andrew is Thea Williams.’ Jo dragged the interview back on track. ‘She normally does fostering or emergency care for kids who for some reason can’t be with their parents. But I know she was the carer for my predecessor’s baby when she wanted to return to work part time. And according to the staff here, Dr Rossiter was very pleased with her.’

Brady’s eyes lit with interest. ‘Your Thea Williams sounds ideal. But I would prefer to keep AJ in his own surroundings, if possible. Would she come to my home each day?’

‘That shouldn’t be a problem. From Thea’s point of view, it would be more practical anyway.’

‘And save me a mad dash in the mornings, I dare say,’ he said with a rueful grin. ‘So, I guess the sixty-four-thousand dollar question is would Mrs Williams be prepared to work overtime when I’m on call? I understand from Angelo we do weekend cover at the after-hours clinic on a rotational basis.’

Jo nodded. ‘It’s a fairly recent adjunct to the district, partly funded by the local council. There are several MOs who come in from surrounding areas as well. So, we’re really committed only every four weeks or so.’

‘Sounds pretty reasonable.’

‘As for whether Thea will agree to work occasional longer hours, I’ll ring her now and put that to her,’ Jo said. ‘If she’s happy about the arrangements in general, you’d probably be best to go round to her place so she can meet you and the baby.’

‘I’ll pay over the going rate,’ Brady put forward hopefully, as if that might secure Thea’s services.

‘Well, let’s just see first, shall we? You mightn’t take to one another at all,’ Jo reminded him.

He smiled then, a little half-smile that seemed to flicker on one side of his lips before settling into place. ‘I trust you, Dr Rutherford, to steer me right.’ And with that he got to his feet. ‘I’ll hang about in Reception while you make your call. OK if I leave AJ here with you?’

Jo nodded and rose from her chair as well and they both stood looking down at Andrew James McNeal. A long exquisite sigh passed from the baby’s rosebud mouth as he slept, causing Jo to murmur involuntarily, ‘He’s a beautiful child, isn’t he?’

‘I think so…’ Brady leaned over and with protective male tenderness gently stroked his son’s cheek with the tip of his middle finger.

‘Oh, I forgot to ask.’ Jo’s hand went to the silver chain at her throat. ‘Have you found somewhere to live?’

‘I have.’ His voice was deep and almost detached. ‘It’s a cottage, already furnished—just what I was looking for.’

CHAPTER THREE

MONDAY morning.

Brady came quietly into the staffroom to begin his first day as a family practitioner at Mt Pryde Medical Centre. His ‘Good morning’ was met with an answering chorus from the other staff members.

He helped himself to a coffee from the filter machine. Then, mug in hand, he stood with his back against the wall and almost bemusedly watched his colleagues as they eased themselves into their working day.

Tom, who had obviously missed breakfast, was making himself toast and Marmite at the benchtop. Angelo was looking through his mail and grumbling to anyone who would listen that it was about time specialists got off their collective tails and came to rural hospitals to conduct clinics.

While Jo…And there Brady stopped, his gaze skimming her slender figure, lingering on the pristine little top that showed off her tan from her recent holiday and then dropping to run the length of her legs in their soft cotton trousers. Then back to her silver-blonde head, bent over a journal of some kind while she almost absently took a mouthful of coffee from the mug in her left hand.

Brady’s heart thumped against his ribs. He should really ask her round for a meal. She’d done so much to help him settle in. And matching him up with Thea was proving a godsend. He could come to the surgery each day knowing his son was in the best of hands.

Guilt and need in equal measure gnawed at him. He could ask Jo round tonight—knock together a pasta of some description. Then he stopped his train of thought abruptly. He couldn’t involve her in his life outside the practice. He’d chosen to walk this path alone. And that’s the way it had to stay.

Vicki breezed in. ‘Hi, everyone.’

‘Hi, Vic,’ was the chorused reply.

Vicki made her way across to the bench and with no attempt at subtlety elbowed Tom out of way. ‘I hope you’re intending to clean up after yourself, young Dr Yardley?’

Tom stuffed a corner of toast into his mouth. ‘I thought you might, Vic…’

‘In your dreams, sunshine. I’ve my own work to do. Brady.’ She dimpled a smile back over her shoulder. ‘Ready for your first day?’

‘Just about.’ Brady took another mouthful of his coffee. ‘Can anyone tell me why people assume that doctors in general survive on casseroles?’

‘Come again?’ Angelo’s dark head came up and he blinked.

Brady gave a twitch of his shoulders. ‘I’ve already had three given to me, one from my elderly neighbour and two from a nice lady who called yesterday and said she was from the church.’

‘No one gave me casseroles when I moved into my place,’ Tom grumbled.

‘You only eat pizzas,’ Vicki scolded. ‘You’d have chucked them out.’

‘Would not. I’d have given them to the poor of the parish.’

‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, children!’ Angelo shook his head and got to his feet. He scooped up the rest of his mail. ‘Folk here are friendly, Brady. News of your arrival will have travelled fast. And the fact you have a baby, well…’

Brady’s mouth turned up in a wry grin. ‘You mean I can expect gifts of nappies and formula as well?’

That remark brought laughter. Then a general exodus began.

Jo had been conscious of Brady from the second he’d walked into the staffroom. She just hoped things worked out for him in Mt Pryde and he’d want to stay.

She didn’t ask herself why she wanted that. Didn’t dare. Instead, she realised she’d have to keep reminding herself she had to work with him, had to treat him as a colleague and not allow her senses to zoom to full alert every time he came within her orbit.

She hung back purposely, waiting for everyone to clear the room. But Brady was still there, washing his mug at the sink. She glanced at her watch. She had to get on. Slipping off the high stool where she’d been perched, she asked, ‘How was Andrew this morning?’

Brady upended his mug on the drainer and began to dry his hands on a paper towel. ‘Good. Thea has great plans for them today.’