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Authors: Karina Bliss

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

Stand-In Wife (21 page)

BOOK: Stand-In Wife
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“Left-side drive,” Ross reminded her, and she veered over to a cacophony of horn blasts from oncoming traffic.

Reclining the passenger seat, he lay back with a towel and covered his face with the frozen peas.

“Wake me up when we get to Hamilton.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

S
TAFF
N
URSE
F
LORENCE
Hore’s eyes were the prettiest color, the blue of spring skies. Trapped in a glare-off, Viv only noticed the darker shards embedded in the iris.

“The fact that you’re embroiled in yet another argument, this time with my patient’s husband, doesn’t remotely interest me,” she’d said when Viv had rushed in and demanded her sister’s immediate discharge. “Until the surgeon has given Mrs. Coltrane her final clearance and signed the discharge papers, I’m not authorized to release her.”

“So let’s phone the guy, get him out here. As I’ve already explained—twice—it’s a family emergency.”

Viv might as well have suggested dragging the Pope away from holy mass. “We do not,” Florence said, “call out our specialists for anything but an emergency.”

Viv glared. “This
is
an emergency. My sister’s kids—”


General Hospital
called,” Florence said. “They want their melodrama back.”

Viv blinked first. “Damn it. To hell with this. You know what, Nurse Ratched? We’re leaving anyway, with or without your permission.”

“In that case…” Florence picked up the phone and punched in a number. “Security?”

Viv leaned forward and cut the connection. “Fine—you win. We’ll wait until tomorrow.” She added bitterly, “You probably miss the old days when surgery was performed without anesthetic.”

“And we were allowed to call people like you lunatics…yes.”

Frustrated, Viv returned to her sister’s room, where she found Merry trying to pace on crutches. She looked up hopefully but Viv shook her head. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow…. How about you, any luck getting hold of Charlie?”

“He’s not answering…his cell, Linda’s phone, our phone. Tell me the truth, Viv, how upset were the kids?”

Merry read the answer on her face and paled. “Why didn’t I tell him earlier,” she said, and burst into tears. “My poor babies.”

Viv swallowed the lump in her throat. “To hell with this,” she repeated. “We’re breaking you out of here.”

“But the specialist—”

“You’re a nurse. Is there any medical reason you can’t go home now?”

“No.”

“So it’s bureaucracy and Florence on a power trip. We just have to work out how we’ll do it without alerting her. Get dressed and put your hospital gown over the top. I’ll go find Ross.” Parking was notorious around the hospital so he’d dropped her off while he circled the lot.

“He’s not going to go along with this.”

Was she right? Viv experienced a resurgence of doubt. True to his word, he’d fallen asleep en route to Hamilton—how could he have slept at a time like this? On the other hand, he’d needed to. He’d looked terrible.

“Do you think he’ll help?” Merry looked skeptical.

“I don’t know,” Viv said honestly. The kiss in the parking lot seemed a lifetime ago…. “All I can do is ask.”

 

“S
O THAT’S THE SITUATION
,” Ross told Dan. Cell pressed to his ear, he stepped aside to let two ambulance officers
push a stretcher bed carrying an old man into Accident and Emergency. Pale, blinking to clear his vision, disorientated. Probably a stroke. “Basically,” he said to Dan, “it’s all turned to shit.”

“You need me there?”

“Not at the moment, we’ll take Meredith home and see what happens. I’ll keep you updated.” He changed the subject. “Listen, you were right with your concerns about my redeployment.”

“Ice, they weren’t concerns about your redeployment, they were concerns about
you.
No,” he amended, “they were concerns about
me.
I need you alive.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry. For behaving like an asshole.”

“That’s okay, I’m used to it. Anyway, we’ll sort this out, buddy. It’s not fair that you stand to lose Charlie because of my damn sisters.”

“We’re playing the one for all and all for one card now.” Gingerly, Ross touched the bridge of his nose. The peas had reduced the swelling substantially. Enough to establish it wasn’t broken. “So, while I have you on the line, tell me how to sweet-talk Hurricane Viv. It’s become kinda important.”

“You seriously think I’m going to help you nail my sister?”

“Actually I’ve already nailed her.” Ross checked for the women’s orthopedic ward on the board beside the elevator. “I need advice on talking her into some kind of commitment.”

There was a long silence. “You want to marry my sister?…No, Jo, there’s no way I’m handing over the phone now.”

“For God’s sake, Shep.” Frowning, Ross pushed the elevator button. “Don’t mention the
M
word around Viv or you’ll scare her off. But…maybe…” He tested the idea.
“Eventually.” It began to have appeal. “Actually, yeah. Possibly a long campaign,” he added thoughtfully, “unless I catch her in a weak moment, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

None of which were suitable for sharing with big brothers. Impatiently he jabbed the elevator button again. “So do I have your blessing?”

“Hell, no!” His best friend sounded appalled. “You need to prove yourself first. I need a history of stability…at least six months.”

“I’m glad you don’t approve,” Ross reflected. “That would have made it too easy.”

“Ross!” Jo came on the line, possibly after a struggle because she sounded out of breath. “Is it true? You want to marry Viv?”

He grinned. “You hate being left out of the loop, don’t you, journalist?”

“You know it.”

“I suppose you want every juicy detail.”

“Yes…. Wait a minute. You’re going to hang up on me, aren’t you?”

“No. You owe me a favor for helping you kidnap Dan and I’m calling it in. Keep your overprotective husband out of my wooing.”

“You’ve got it,” she said, then coughed delicately. “Alpha Hole, you do know wooing isn’t just dragging Viv off by her hair, don’t you?”


Now
I’m hanging up on you,” said Ross, and did. The elevator finally arrived and disgorged its occupants, including his intended. His target. Whatever. Her anxious frown lifted as Viv caught sight of him.

“The duty nurse won’t allow Merry to leave until tomorrow and has security on speed dial if we try.” Catching his
arm, she hustled him away from the elevator and lowered her voice. “We’re going to have to smuggle her out.”

He sighed. “Of course we are.”

 

F
ROM
M
ERRY’S HOSPITAL BED
, Viv glanced over at her twin who stood behind the heavy swing door, holding it open in one hand, her crutches in the other. She wore street clothes, the pencil skirt and blouse she’d left the house to interview in a week earlier.

It was lucky, Viv thought inconsequentially, that her sister always wore half a dress size too big for her. The skirt fitted over her cast…just. “Ready?” she asked.

Merry swallowed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She hid behind the door. Placing a pillow over her left leg, Viv tented the sheet over the bulge, straightened the hospital gown to hide her soccer T-shirt and pressed the call button.

Florence showed up five minutes later. “Yes,” she said crisply.

“I just wanted to apologize.” Viv bit her lip as her twin did when she was stressed. “For the fuss my twin made earlier.”

“Humph.” Florence folded her arms.

“You see, my sister is so passionate about perceived injustice…” Out of the nurse’s view, Merry crept out from behind the door—at least as much as a person with a cast to their thigh could creep “…she can say things she later regrets.” Viv tried not to watch as Merry used her crutches with exacting slowness to inch out the door.

“Your sister,” said Florence with volcanic heat, “has anger management issues and needs psychiatric treatment.”

She started to turn away. “Wait!”

Florence paused. Behind her, Merry froze. “Something’s wrong with the adjustment thingie on my bed.” What was wrong with it was a folded piece of cardboard jammed
under the lever to stop it depressing. “It won’t recline and I’d like to nap now.”

Merry disappeared from view. So did Florence, down the side of the bed. The frame rattled as the staff nurse struggled with the mechanism. “I don’t understand…let me try wiggling it the other way.”

Viv imagined the action outside. Ross waited in the hallway with a wheelchair. He’d scoot Merry to the elevator, which she’d take to basement level. There she’d wait to be collected. All Viv needed to do was keep Florence occupied until she heard the distinctive ping of the elevator.


Here’s
the problem.” Florence stood with the chocolate box fragment in her hand. “Who on earth would have put that there?”

“I wonder if my daughter did it yesterday? She’s such a kidder.”

Still no elevator ping. “Do you have children, Florence?”

“Too scared they’d turn out like yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the nurses’ station and organize meds for Mrs. Pearson.”

“Could I ask you to pour some water into a glass for me before you go?”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “It’s well within reach, Mrs. Coltrane. You need to practice independence if you’re going home tomorrow.”

Still
no ping.

Unable to think of another excuse, Viv watched her march toward the exit…and collide with Ross in the doorway. He put his hands on the nurse’s shoulders to steady her. “I’m so sorry…I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Florence straightened her bib and looked at Ross’s face—the grazed cheek, the red-bruised eye and his slightly swollen nose—then stiffened. “You’re not the outraged husband, are you, come to cause more trouble?” She thrust
out her arms to secure the doorway, obviously with the intention of protecting Merry, and Viv forgave the woman everything.

“I’m not married,” Ross said truthfully. “And I’m hunting for X-ray.”

Florence relaxed her guard. “You’re on orthopedic… X-ray’s one floor down. The elevator’s right out here.”

Ross reached out to clutch the door frame. “Give me a second,” he said. “I’m feeling dizzy.”

“In here.” With brisk efficiency, Florence steered him into Merry’s room, sat him on the chair by the door and shoved his head down. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

He’d favored it, sitting down.

“That’s what the X-ray will tell me,” he replied smoothly.

The elevator door pinged.

Ross lifted his head. “I think I’m okay now…. Thanks for your help.” He looked at the name badge. “Florence.” He made the word sound sensual and followed it with a smile that would have made Viv need to lie down, if she wasn’t prone already. Even Florence blinked.

“You’re welcome.” She cleared her throat. “Here, let me help you.” She tucked an arm in Ross’s. “Lean on me if you need to.”

“Thank you,” he said meekly. “I’ll do that.”

As soon as they left, Viv flung back the sheet, leaped out of bed and stripped off the gown. At the mirror she yanked her ponytail off center, then pulled the curtain around the bed and sauntered down the corridor. Florence—the flirt—was chatting to Ross as he waited for the elevator. Catching sight of Viv, she scowled.

“I thought you’d left?”

“Just about to.” Viv nodded politely to Ross, suddenly reminded of his fantasy.
We’d meet casually by the elevators.
Another ping and the door opened. The half-dozen
people inside squeezed together to let them in. So much for that fantasy.

Florence smiled at Ross. “You take care now.” Ignoring Viv, she sailed back down the corridor. Viv jabbed the button for the basement.

“Halfway there,” Ross encouraged, as the door closed. Unfortunately the second part of Operation Reconciliation didn’t go as smoothly.

Charlie refused to let Viv in the door.

“I can’t wear these now, can I?” Viv fanned out her soccer T-shirt and pretended to shiver. “All I want is my suitcase, Charlie…some clothes aren’t too much to ask, are they?”

Her brother-in-law’s hostile gaze went past Viv to his brother, sitting in the SUV at the curb. Merry lay concealed in the backseat. “Tilly said Ross only found out the day before the funeral. Sounds like his hands were mostly tied so I’ll let him come in to collect it. Not you.”

Except Viv was supposed to keep Charlie occupied while Ross helped Merry inside. Past Charlie, Viv saw Tilly hovering at the end of the hall. She smiled encouragingly, received a tremulous one in return. “It’s going to be fine, hon. Hang in there.”

Charlie stepped into her line of sight. “Don’t make out as if I’m the bad guy,” he snarled. “You take responsibility for this.”

“I do. Total and full responsibility. Don’t punish Merry.”

“She went along with it. To hell with this. I’m not talking to either of you.” He went to close the door and Viv jammed her foot in it.

“I know you’re hurt but please, Charlie, Merry loves you so much, give her a chance to fix this.”

“Charlie.” In the heat of the exchange neither of them had noticed Ross’s approach. “Meredith’s in the car,” he
said without preamble. “Go talk to her.” Forcefulness wasn’t part of the plan. Viv opened her mouth to soften the order and Ross gave her a look that made her close it. He knew his brother better than she did.

Charlie looked over to the SUV where Merry now sat in plain sight and his jaw tightened.

“We’re done here.”

Ross said in a tone too low for Tilly to hear, “After scaring the crap out of your children this afternoon, you have to reassure them that you don’t hate their mother—even if you do. You’re a parent first…outraged husband second. You know this, I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

“Charlie!” They turned to see Merry trying to swing herself out of the passenger seat of Ross’s 4WD but the seat was too high off the ground. “I don’t expect forgiveness, I just want to tell you why I did it. For our kids’ sake, will you listen?”

The weight of her cast started to pull Merry forward and she grabbed the door frame. Instinctively Charlie started forward, then stopped. Viv remembered his gallantry at the funeral when he thought his wife was being snubbed.

“She needs help,” he said to Viv, jerking his head in Merry’s direction and jamming his hands in his pockets.

“Not me.” Viv folded her arms.

BOOK: Stand-In Wife
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