this, hen. I’ve all the time in the world.’ He raised a black eyebrow. ‘More to the point, have you the time?’
‘I’ll find it.’Jane stood up carefully, trying to push back the devastating news she had just received. Not Izzy. Oh, God! She couldn’t deal with it just yet. Thank goodness her training and her job enabled the kind of self-control she needed rather badly right now. ‘Come with me.’
Mandy was still watching from behind the triage desk. She stared at Jane.
‘Are you all right, Dr Walters?’
‘Of course.’
‘Is there anything…?’
Mandy was clearly disconcerted. Did she look that awful? Jane pulled off the disposable hat and ran her hand over her head to check that her hair was still mostly confined in the neat braid. The nurse’s gaze slid past her to Dylan, who had the baby on one arm and the car seat and bag in his other hand. ‘Your backpack…?’
‘Could I leave it with you just for now?’
Mandy was getting one of those killer smiles. Jane could tell by the way the nurse breathed out in what looked like a soft sigh. ‘Sure. It’s out of the way in the ambulance bay locker.’
‘There is something you could do, Mandy.’ Jane was pleased to hear her voice sounding almost normal. ‘Page my registrar and tell him to start the ward round without me. I’ll catch up with the post-ops later. For anything urgent, I can be paged.’
It was quite a walk to Dr Walters’s office.
A silent walk apart from the occasional greeting directed at the woman half a step ahead of Dylan.
‘Dr Walters.’
‘Jane! How are you?’
She acknowledged the greetings but her step never wavered. Her back was straight, her gaze fixed on a point well ahead of them and her stride determined enough for Dylan’s long legs to move at a comfortable pace.
He stole more than one sideways glance. This Jane Walters was considerably more pale than she had been when he had first set eyes on her, but was that the only indication she might be upset? Were her features always this set?
Ice Queen sprang to mind.
Except it didn’t quite fit.
Dylan had met his sister-in-law some time ago now. Last Christmas, when the couple had arrived back in Scotland. Izzy had been a delight. So vibrant. So full of life and laughter, and she had talked about Jane all the time. Her very best friend that she missed terribly. The person who was going to be so excited when—if the miracle really happened.
The miracle had happened.
But right now Dylan found he couldn’t imagine Jane Walters getting excited about anything. Pleased, perhaps. Satisfied, certainly. The notion that excitement could dent the aura of control—power, even—that emanated from this slim figure he was following was quite bizarre.
She was important here, that was obvious. She might be oblivious to the quick glances and smiles that advertised respect but Dylan wasn’t. He knew the kind of hierarchy that existed in hospitals only too well and he knew he was walking with royalty.
And if he hadn’t picked it up on the journey, he couldn’t have missed the information from the office he was ushered into. By the standards of most hospitals, it was palatial. With a view to the beautiful city park that bordered the hospital grounds. A glimpse of the river even.
There was a wall completely covered with framed diplomas and postgraduate degrees and floor-to-ceiling shelving with meticulously filed stacks of medical journals and a wealth of reference books. The blotter on the surface of the large desk was unsullied by any doodling and the chair was tidily pushed in. Jane didn’t go to that side of her desk, however. She stopped beside one of the two comfortable armchairs that flanked a coffee table.
‘Have a seat,’ she directed. ‘Um…does the baby need anything?’
‘Her name’s Sophie.’ Dylan’s smile felt forced. God, he was tired. ‘And no, she’s fine for the moment. I fed and changed her while we were waiting in Emergency.’
‘Right.’ Jane sat on the edge of the other chair, which made her look uncomfortable. Her hands were curled into loose fists and the skin around her nose and mouth was pale enough to be of concern.
She looked terrible, Dylan decided. He was studying her face as she raised her gaze and then he couldn’t look away. She had an unusual eye colour. Green? Brown? He couldn’t tell because the pupils were large. She looked…grief-stricken.
‘What happened?’ A tiny catch in her voice added to his impression. ‘Was it a complication of childbirth?’
‘No. That all went perfectly. They were taking Sophie home from the hospital a few days after the birth and there was an accident on the M1. Izzy was killed instantly. Josh…broke his neck. He survived in the spinal unit for three weeks but died of respiratory complications.’ Dylan had to pause for a moment. ‘Actually,’ he added softly, ‘I think he died of a broken heart.’
‘And the…? And Sophie? She was in the car?’
‘She was in her new state-of-the-art car seat.’ Dylan tilted his head to where he’d left the items he had carried with him on the floor beside his chair. ‘She’s fine.’ He looked down at the tiny face he could see in the folds of soft blanket. His arms tightened a little and something huge squeezed his heart. ‘Better than fine,’ he added. ‘She’s perfect.’
Jane wasn’t looking at Sophie. She was staring at her hands, now tightly clasped in her lap.
‘I knew something was wrong. Izzy had been hinting at a surprise and, at first, I thought they were planning a visit back to Christchurch. I’ve been half expecting to open my door and find them there, laughing at me. It’s never been this long without an email or phone call. I’ve rung so many times.’
‘I got the message you left last week.’
‘Why didn’t you contact me, then? Why didn’t someone call me as soon as it had happened?’ There was anger in her voice now. ‘Josh knew how close Izzy and I were. He must have known I’d want to be there for…for her funeral. I was the only real family Izzy had.’
‘Izzy was a McKenzie,’ Dylan said steadily. ‘My sister-in-law. My brother’s wife. My father’s daughter-in-law. The only daughter he ever had. We were her family. And we all loved her.’
Eyebrows a shade or two darker than the rich golden brown of Jane’s hair were lowered into a scowl. She didn’t like that.
‘Josh was too ill that first week,’ Dylan continued. ‘On a ventilator in the intensive care unit. My father was distraught. I had to make all the arrangements. All the decisions.’
‘You had no right to exclude me.’
‘I’m sorry.’And he was. He hadn’t bargained on this. The grief he could feel. Jane had been just a name. An entity a world away from the tragedy he’d been dealing with. He hated that he was causing her so much pain. ‘There was someone else who had to take priority in all the decisions I made.’ He glanced down again and his voice softened. ‘This wee lassie.’
Dylan looked up and waited until Jane met his gaze. ‘Your daughter,’ he added.
‘No!’ Jane shot up as though her chair had scorched her. ‘You’ve made a mistake. There’s no way this child is mine.’
Dylan had to look up a lot further this time but he remained sitting. He had to try and stay calm. This was a shock for her, he reminded himself. She needed time. She needed to see Sophie. Really look at her. Touch her. And then she would feel the way he did. That nothing mattered except for what was going to be best for this precious baby.
Was she distracting herself from grief for her