Jo was shocked at the sudden locked-down expression on his face, and her own anger vanished like leaves in the wind. The man was obviously toting a massive load of emotional baggage.
In a split second she wondered why on earth she felt the insane desire to help him carry it.
But before she could form any words, Brady dropped back in his chair with a muted ‘Oh, hell.’ Stabbing a hand through his hair, he met her eyes with a crooked and repentant smile. ‘I didn’t mean to snap at you, Jo. Can we start again?’
She hesitated a moment, her even white teeth rolling over the corner of her bottom lip, unable to believe the sudden crazy need she felt to make things right for him and his son. ‘Fine with me.’
His ‘Thank you’ was heartfelt, and as Jo looked at him across the desk, their eyes met and held and she felt the instant shock of it shimmer right up her spine.
Sweet God. Brady blinked and blinked again. It was like being struck by lightning. Silver-green lightning, lancing through him and anchoring him to the chair. With a little grimace he dragged his eyes away and gave himself a mental kick in the backside. This was no time to be indulging in fantasies. For now his priorities had to be elsewhere, with his baby…
‘So,’ Jo was asking, ‘are you expecting any separation trauma when you have to leave your son?’
He slammed back to reality. ‘For my part, certainly. I’ll miss him like crazy. But AJ should be fine. He’s been in and out of child care practically since day one. If all else fails and I can’t get a carer, my mother will come down in a temporary capacity until I get things sorted. My work won’t suffer,’ he added tersely.
Did it appear as though she’d thought otherwise? He’d wrong-footed her again but she ploughed on. ‘I don’t imagine you’d have taken the job without considering all the implications. And there may be someone suitable…’
He lifted a hand, his fingers scraping roughly over his chin. ‘Sorry if I appear abrasive about this. I don’t mean to be.’
With a twitch of her shoulder, Jo shrugged off his apology. ‘Let’s just concentrate on getting a successful outcome for Andrew, shall we?’
He leaned forward earnestly. ‘I really want to make this work. The practice seems just what I’ve been looking for in terms of location and workload, and the town itself is a real gem.’
Jo got right on her hobby-horse. ‘I love it here,’ she confessed. ‘Have you had a good look around?’
‘Mmm.’ More relaxed now, Brady settled back in his chair. ‘The day I came for the interview. I was amazed to find that old-world department store in the main street.’
‘Geraldo’s. Incredible, isn’t it? Been there since the early nineteen hundreds apparently.’
‘And I was intrigued by their motto above the front door…’ Brady’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember it.
‘“We sell everything from wagon wheels to watermelons”,’ Jo supplied with a soft laugh. ‘But I doubt if they sell watermelons these days. There’s an excellent co-op fruit mart here now.’
‘And a library and art gallery as well.’ Brady added to the list. ‘The hospital isn’t half bad either.’
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.’
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