Miracle: Twin Babies Read online

  At that moment she knew exactly what she had to do. Grabbing the life preserver, she dived into the roiling water and swam toward Matthew.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘NO!’ NICK’S heart stalled in his chest. He was unable to believe his eyes as Kirby dived over the side of the boat. The love of his life and the mother of his unborn children had just disappeared into a raging sea before he could fix everything between them.

  ‘Aidan, over there!’ He pointed with an extended arm, his eyes never leaving the water, willing her to appear above the waves.

  The smaller police boat moved quickly, able to change direction more easily than the larger fishing boat. White foam swirled around them, decreasing visibility, but adrenaline and raw fear had acutely honed Nick’s eyes.

  Bright orange bobbed up ten metres away and then disappeared behind a wave. ‘Throttle back, she’s over there.’

  The constable skilfully brought the boat in close and Nick saw Kirby, her arm around a boy’s neck, tilting his head up using the pistol grip and maintaining him in rescue position. Then her other arm shot straight up in the air—the international sign for rescue.

  Thank you. Thank you.

  ‘I see her, Nick. You get them on board.’

  ‘Kirby, over here.’ He leaned over the side, holding out a long pole.

  She kicked hard and her free hand gripped the pole. A wave covered her and she came up spluttering. ‘Take Matt. He’s not breathing.’

  Nick wanted to pull Kirby into the boat, feel her heavy in his arms to really know she was safe and unhurt, but triage left no room for feelings. Matthew was his first priority. ‘I’ll take him, you use the ladder.’ He reached down and with Kirby’s help heaved the lifeless boy out of the water.

  He laid him down on the bench, clearing his airway and checking his carotid pulse. Nothing. Tilting Matt’s head back and closing his nostrils with this fingers and thumb, he covered the boy’s mouth and blew in two rescue breaths.

  Behind him he heard the emergency radio and Aidan instructing Gaz to return to Port, heard the request for the air ambulance and confirmation that Lochie was uninjured, just cold.

  The boat rocked, jolting him sideways, and he deliberately fell to his knees. Placing the heel of his left hand on the boy’s breastbone and interlacing the fingers of his right hand, he immediately started cardiac compressions. ‘Come on, mate, come back to me, you can do this.’

  A sopping Kirby knelt down beside him. ‘I’ll breathe.’

  He wanted to say no, he wanted to say, Wrap yourself up in a blanket and just keep warm, look after yourself and the babies, you’re a patient too, but Matthew needed both of them.

  They settled into the pattern of thirty compressions to two breaths. He remembered the first day they’d met and how she’d been doing mouth to mouth then as well. He caught her gaze and right then his own heart wanted to stop.

  Kirby’s clear blue eyes, usually so full of warmth and what he now realised was love, were harrowingly empty. Although she was so physically close to him that their hair almost touched, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d left him emotionally.

  ‘We’re five minutes out of Port.’

  Aidan’s firm, controlled voice reassured Nick about extra help for Matt but not help for himself. He’d hurt Kirby too much, asked her to do the unthinkable, and had pushed her past the point of no return.

  Matthew vomited.

  Kirby immediately turned him on his side and cleared his airway and checked his air entry. ‘He’s breathing.’ Sheer relief permeated her words.

  ‘Matt, can you hear me? Matt?’ Nick shook the boy, whose eyes fluttered open for a moment. ‘I’ll get the oxygen.’ He managed to secure the small tank so it didn’t roll and he carefully placed the mask over Matt’s face.

  ‘And Gaz, is he OK?’ Kirby moved to stand.

  ‘He’s coming in behind us, Doc. Don’t you think you should have a blanket around you? You’re shaking.’ Aidan reached up with his spare hand, grabbing the space blanket from the storage cupboard. Ripping the package open with his teeth, he shook it out and by using his knee to control the boat he wrapped it around her shoulders.

  ‘Thanks.’ Kirby smiled at up the young constable, gratitude shining on her face.

  That’s my job. Nick, halfway through checking Matt’s pupil reactions, wanted to knock Aidan Masterton sideways. Damn it, he should be taking care of Kirby but absolutely nothing about the last few hours was going the way he’d planned and he had an aching suspicion that no matter how hard he wanted it, the situation wasn’t going to change.

  Kirby sat wrapped up in flannel pyjamas and a dressing gown, which seemed ludicrous in summer but she just couldn’t get warm. Meryl had supervised her having a warm bath, had fed her hot chicken broth and now had tucked her up under a doona with a heated wheat pack at her feet.

  ‘Kirby, I rang the hospital and Matthew’s doing well at Barago. He’s conscious and alert, which is wonderful, and Lochie is fine with a few cuts and bruises which will heal in no time. Considering what could have happened, it’s a wonderful result.’ Meryl clucked around, adjusting her pillows. ‘You’re sure to get a bravery medal for today.’

  ‘I just did what anyone else would have done.’ Saving Matthew had been the easy part of the afternoon. Working with Nick on the police boat had been the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  Nick. The clock struck seven and she swallowed a painful sigh. Nick would have returned by now from escorting Matthew to Barago. Would have returned to Riversleigh. She took a big slug of her chai tea, welcoming the scalding liquid in her mouth. She really had to stop thinking about Nick and what he might or might not be doing because he’d made it clear he didn’t want to do anything with her and the twins.

  Meryl stood back with her arms crossed. ‘So are you sure you’ll be OK? I can stay longer.’

  Kirby smiled. ‘Thanks, Meryl, but I’m fine. Nothing that a good sleep won’t fix.’ But she felt the lie clean down to her toes.

  The caring nurse hesitated as if she was going to say something else but then thought better of it. Instead, she picked up her bag and tucked it under her arm. ‘In that case, ring me if you need anything and I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.’

  Kirby listened to her retreating footsteps against the floorboards, heard the familiar squeak of her front door opening and waited for the banging thud of it closing. Instead, she heard voices—Meryl’s strident accent along with a deep rumbling baritone she’d know anywhere.

  Nick.

  She simultaneously went hot and cold but before she had time to put down her tea and move from the couch he was standing in the doorway of her living room, sucking the air from the space and filling it completely with unusually restrained energy. ‘Hello, Kirby.’

  Hey, Sherlock. He used to greet her with dancing eyes. This serious greeting rammed home how much she’d lost and she wanted to dive under her doona and ignore him and the whole horrible situation. Instead, she held her head high. ‘Hello, Nick.’

  He rocked back on his worn boots, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘That’s good.’

  She hated this. Hated the chilly air of politeness that now sat between them, suffocating all the passion and fun that had once connected them with every look and word.

  He swallowed, hard, his Adam’s apple moving quickly. ‘And the twins? No problems there?’

  A spark of anger surged up through her paralysing grief. ‘No. Swimming generally doesn’t disturb a pregnancy if that’s what you were hoping to hear.’

  He swayed as if he’d been punched. ‘God, Kirby, is that what you think of me? That I’d wish for a miscarriage?’

  His ragged words shocked her and she sought clarity. ‘Yesterday you said—’

  ‘Yesterday I was an insensitive fool.’ In two strides he stood before her, staring down at her, his eyes filled with contr
ition and regret. He knelt down next to her. ‘I’m so very sorry.’

  Her hand tingled to touch his hair, to pull him close and soothe the devastated look from his face, but too much was unresolved and too much hung in the balance. ‘What are you sorry for?’

  His eyes flared with scorn for himself. ‘For hurting you, for only telling you I respected you. God, what a pompous idiot I was.’ He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, his expression begging her to understand. ‘Until I met you I’d never been in love and even when it was banging me hard over the head I didn’t get it. I didn’t recognise it.’

  He put his hand over hers, his touch gentle and warm in sharp contrast to the desolation in his eyes. ‘But, Kirby Atherton, I love you. I was on my way to tell you when I heard you’d gone out in that storm and when I saw you dive into that water I knew right then that if you died, then part of me would have died too.’

  I love you. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry as his words caressed her, stark in their truth, calling to her to believe. But after yesterday some doubt lingered. ‘You love me? Why do you think you love me?’

  His lips twitched up into a knowing smile. ‘Because I built you a laundry.’

  Her heart sang—he really did love her. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, bury her face in the crook of his neck and feel his comforting arms around her, but still she held steady because too much was at stake and loving her might not be enough. ‘But the laundry isn’t finished.’

  A sombre expression captured his face. ‘No, it isn’t. I have to enlarge the ceiling airer and it’s missing a shelf and two nappy buckets.’

  She held her breath. ‘Two nappy buckets?’

  He nodded, his smile now wry. ‘I’m told that twins generate a lot of washing.’

  Her heart hammered wildly in her chest. ‘Are you saying you want to come on the journey with me no matter what might happen?’

  ‘No matter what, with all its inherent risks.’ He gripped her hands tightly. ‘You were so right and I was so ridiculously wrong. Growing up, things were not as black as I remembered them and I now know that my parents survived and grew closer. So, come what may, we can and we will survive and grow old together. I love you with all my heart, Kirby. Will you have me along for the ride of our lives?’

  She looked down into green eyes filled with uncertainty but backlit with a love so strong it almost took her breath away. Her palms cupped his cheeks and she lowered her mouth to his, claiming her man and giving her answer in her kiss.

  ‘I’m taking that as a yes.’ He grinned up at her. ‘I know we have a lot to discuss, like where we’re going to live, how you’re going to finish your GP training and how you feel about me returning to Melbourne Central. Not to mention which hospital is the best one to have these babies, and most importantly how to restrain my mother from taking out a paid advertisement in the Melbourne papers announcing she is going to be a grandmother.’ His smile changed to a more serious expression. ‘But while I’m down here on my knees I need to ask you one more thing. Will you marry me?’

  Her squeal of delight said it all.

  EPILOGUE

  TURBO bounded out of the four-wheel drive, his bark one of pure pleasure as his feet hit the gravel drive of Riversleigh.

  The Dennison family was back for the summer.

  A blond-headed boy ran straight to the back of the vehicle, opening the rear door and clambering onto the bumper bar. ‘Dad, where did you pack the fishing rod? I’m going straight down to the creek.’

  ‘No, we’re going swimming first.’ A girl with vivid green eyes and a determined expression pulled at her brother’s legs. ‘Aren’t we, Daddy?’

  Nick raised his brows at his eight-year-old twins, both of whom had spent most of the last two hours of the drive asking, ‘Are we there yet?’

  He gave them a teasing grin. ‘Actually, I thought we might spread the manure first and get things ready to plant the lettuces.’

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ The wail of dissension was deafening.

  ‘Let’s get the car emptied first.’ Kirby lifted an eager William out of his car seat. At four, unlike his older siblings, he loved to carry things in from the car.

  Leaving Nick to organise the ferrying of gear, she walked up the straight path, the box hedges now at hip height. Sliding the heavy, flat key into the lock, she turned both the key and the handle and the door swung open.

  The scent of fresh flowers and beeswax polish wafted out to meet her and she smiled. As much as she adored her Victorian home with its spacious extension in a leafy suburb of Melbourne, she loved the simplicity of the cottage and the way over a summer it deconstructed their city lives.

  Sunlight filtered in through the windows, lighting up the old house, and the grandfather clock struck four. At the end of the hall she spied a ginger fluff sponge and a plate of sandwiches, sitting next to a vase of white and pink sweet peas on the wide Baltic pine table.

  She called back over her shoulder. ‘Hey, guys, work fast. Meryl and Vicki have made us cake.’

  ‘Yes!’ Like a whirlwind, Carter grabbed a box of food and ran up the steps.

  ‘I love this place!’ Melissa tore past her slightly older brother, crossing the threshold first.

  Twenty minutes later the twins, with traces of cream still clinging to their lips, took it in turns to throw a ball to Turbo, who was starting to look longingly at the shade of his favourite tree. At ten, he’d slowed down some but he could always find some extra energy to round up the chooks.

  Dark-haired William, trowel in hand and bright yellow gumboots on his feet, busily dug over the herb patch, holding up worms and slaters for inspection before dropping them back into the fragrant soil.

  Kirby sat on the veranda with her feet resting on the worn bluestone step and her back against Nick’s chest, feeling the regular and soothing rise and fall of his breathing, her hands in her lap resting over his. She still marvelled at how the touch of his hands made her knees buckle and her heart race.

  She turned in his arms, slinging her own around his neck. ‘It’s great to be back.’

  He smiled, his eyes sparkling with wicked intent. ‘You’re so right, Sherlock. We’ve got two months of long, lazy summer days and glorious nights.’

  She laughed. ‘With three kids?’

  He winked and dimples carved into his cheeks. ‘The fresh air exhausts them and they’ll be in bed early and sleep like logs.’ Tilting his forehead, he rested it on hers. ‘Even so, I’ve made some plans that involve my parents visiting for a few days so they can get their grandparent fix and I’ve booked the same few days for us at an isolated beachside shack just down the road at Dolphin Bay. Complete beach frontage and no one else around for miles.’ He grinned. ‘I haven’t visited that beach since I was sixteen.’

  ‘Really?’ Her fingers trailed down his cheek and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. ‘Do you plan on reliving your youth?’

  His teasing gaze faded. ‘Hell, no. I plan on living my present, with you.’ The heartfelt words spun around her. ‘The last nine years have been brilliant and I wouldn’t change a second, but I’m looking forward to the future.’ He lowered his head, his lips grazing hers, full of love and simmering desire.

  She answered his kiss, reaffirming her commitment to him and promising a summer of fun and sensual delight.

  Tumbling arms and legs suddenly slammed into them as children wriggled and squished between them.

  ‘Do you have to do that mushy stuff?’

  ‘Yeah, you said we would go fishing.’

  ‘Look at this big worm!’

  Laughing, Kirby avoided the dangling worm and caught Nick’s gaze. ‘You wouldn’t change any of this for a second?’

  ‘Not one thing.’ He swung William up onto his shoulders, grabbed her hand and slung his free arm around both twins, capturing them against him. ‘Come on, you lot, hurry up. The Dennisons are going fishing and swimming down at the creek.’

  Tu
rbo barked his approval.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-3843-9

  MIRACLE: TWIN BABIES

  First North American Publication 2009

  Copyright © 2009 by Fiona Lowe

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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