An odd happiness filled him. Because she was accepting a ride with him? Pathetic. ‘Are you allowed to go yet?’
‘It’s entirely up to me. The midwife has done her final checks for the day and says she’ll see me tomorrow, so any time that suits you. I’ll have a quick shower and change into something half decent.’ She began easing off the bed, obviously feeling every movement.
Nixon stood up, rolled his shoulders. ‘I’ll go see how that cyclist’s doing. He should be out of surgery by now. Back in ten?’
‘Sure.’ She was already digging into her daypack for clothes.
Nixon found his patient’s orthopaedic surgeon writing up notes on the operation he’d just performed. ‘How’s our guy?’
‘That shoulder is nasty, and he’s in for a long haul getting back to—’ Cameron flicked his fingers in the air ‘—normal. The skull fracture’s of concern, though we’re fairly certain there’s no lasting brain injury. I’ll operate again tomorrow to insert rods in his leg and arm. He won’t be a happy chap when he comes round.’
‘He’s lucky to be alive. That was some fall.’
Cameron stretched in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. ‘You cyclists certainly keep me busy. Shoulders are my expertise these days. You still as crazy on your bike as you were when you first arrived in town?’
Nixon grinned. ‘What’s crazy about racing down a mountain on two wheels? It’s an adrenalin fix like no other.’ He loved it, needed it at times. Used it to pretend all was right in his world.
‘Could also be the end of you, is what else it is,’ Cameron retorted. ‘Your family ever worry about you?’
There was another question behind the obvious one. ‘They’re long used to me doing hair-raising sports.’ His cousins had more than enough to focus on with their families and jobs without worrying about him.
‘You ever think you should slow down?’
‘Yeah, but then I get on the bike and that idea goes out the window.’ If the worst happened then he wasn’t hurting anyone else, because there was no one close enough to be affected if he didn’t come home one day as his family hadn’t. His cousins would miss him, as would Henry, but not in a life-stopping, future-changing way. He’d chosen to live like this. If he couldn’t have love then he’d have adventure.
‘You’re mad.’ Cameron was studying him far too closely. ‘Find another fix, something less dangerous. Collect stamps or play bowls. Or...’ and the guy drew a breath, warning Nixon he wasn’t going to like this next pearl of wisdom ‘...a woman. As in a woman you go home to every night. They can be as addictive as anything else out there.’
‘Bikes are cheaper to run,’ he flipped back.
‘You don’t mean that.’
Did the guy ever give up? Nixon put some grit in his voice. ‘You’re right, I don’t. What I meant is I’m not getting involved with anyone. End of.’ He headed for the door. Time to collect Emma, whether she was ready or not. And that’s not getting involved?
‘Nixon,’ Cameron called after him. ‘Give me five and we’ll go across the road for a beer. I promise to drop the subject of looking after your bones.’
‘Sorry, already got some place I need to be.’
Disappointment warred with annoyance in Cameron’s eyes. ‘It’s only a beer, not a lifetime commitment.’
Blast. He did not want to get offside with the man. ‘I’m taking Emma out to her family in the Valley.’ Don’t you say a bloody word.
But he should’ve known better. This was Cameron. ‘Watch out for her family. They don’t like men hanging around their Emma.’ Then he was busy filling in paperwork.
Dismissed. That was how Nixon felt. Cameron had got the last annoying word in. Except he was glad to learn there were people looking out for his friend. After the mistake her husband had turned out to be, it was only right her family would check out any bloke Emma became interested in. He could handle that. Besides, he was only her boss and a casual friend wanting to see her home.
Wasn’t he?
If that was the case, why was he rushing up the stairs to the maternity ward with fingers crossed that Emma’s mother hadn’t come to pick her up? He’d be free to hit the road on his bike, put some wind through his hair if she had.
Yeah, but he wanted to be the one driving Emma out to Gibbston Valley tonight.
Glad Cameron wasn’t around to hear that one. He’d be laughing for days.
* * *
Emma stepped into her parents’ dining room and shook her head at her mother. The solid wood dining table was all but bending under the weight of food. ‘I had a baby, I didn’t run a marathon.’
‘Everyone’s here,’ was her mother’s explanation, meaning her brothers’ girlfriends were hanging around too.
As long as she wasn’t in for a grilling about her feelings for the baby, she was okay with their presence. They might keep the boys quiet. And she had wanted to wrap herself in family, right? What about Nixon? He’d chatted all the way out, saving her the need to fill in the gaps. Yet she’d known if she’d wanted to broach the events of her day he’d have given her one hundred per cent focus. She was glad she had accepted his offer of a lift, and what better way to thank him than dinner? Her mother would never, ever, not have enough food prepared to feed everyone twice over, so Emma turned to Nixon. ‘Don’t even try to get out of staying for dinner. Mum can be stubborn if she has to.’
‘I do have to get back to town.’ His gaze was cruising the banquet of cold cuts and salads of every variety imaginable.
‘Might as well eat here as there.’ Emma would swear he was drooling.
‘But—’ Nixon seemed to be having a battle with his stomach. He cut a look to her mother. ‘Okay. Thank you for inviting me, Kathy.’
Technically she hadn’t, but then she expected people to stay. Her favourite saying was ‘Everyone gets hungry, I enjoy plugging the gaps.’
‘You brought Emma out. It’s the least I could do.’ Her mum’s smile was genuine. No hidden agenda, no lurking doubts, no worries about Nixon being with her daughter.
Oh, boy. This was getting tricky. She didn’t need her mum getting all fired up about a man in her life. If, and that was a huge if, she stepped out into the dating world, she would not introduce the poor guy to her family until she was absolutely certain he could take the grilling that would come his way, but one glance at Nixon and she knew he’d handle it, might even expect it. Not that he’d be getting the opportunity. Dinner now and then he’d be racing back to town, away from her family and any risk of being slowly pulled in by the mantle known as the Hayes blanket—so called by one of the many strays her parents had taken in throughout her life. Not that Nixon was a stray. Just a little adrift. Alone.
Emma sighed. It was out of her hands. ‘Sorry we’re late, Mum, but I slept longer than I intended.’
Remember, Mum, he’s my boss, not a potential lover. Definitely not a future husband.
One of those had already been one too many. She would never marry again, even if—heaven forbid—she did fall in love and move in with a guy. She was Emma Hayes for ever.
Her mother shrugged. ‘No problem.’
Oh, boy, again. Emma spun away from her mother’s knowing look and said, ‘Nixon, you’d better meet everyone else.’
‘Why does that sound like a threat?’ he asked,