The Baby Snatchers (6 page)

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Authors: Chris Taylor

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #medical thriller, #contemporary romance, #romance series, #australian romance, #australian series

BOOK: The Baby Snatchers
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“Not as far as we know. There certainly
didn’t appear to be anything wrong with her when I saw her last,
but the fact is, sometime during the early hours of the morning,
the baby stopped breathing.”

Cameron shook his head, disbelief and anger
flashing in his eyes. “This is bullshit! How could a baby just up
and die? This is the twenty-first century and we’re standing in a
hospital. Babies don’t die in hospitals in this day and age!”

His voice had risen by several decibels and
Georgie did her best to remain calm. It was her only hope of
soothing his temper.

“I understand your shock and confusion, Mr
Dawson, but I don’t know what else you want me to say. The truth
is, your niece died of cot death, also known as SIDS—Sudden Infant
Death Syndrome.”

“I know what fucking SIDS means! What the
hell do you take me for? An imbecile?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Dawson.” She stared at him,
trying desperately to find the right words. The truth was, there
were never any right words in this kind of situation. She was only
grateful over the years she’d spent nursing, she’d rarely been put
in this position.

With a muffled curse, he turned away and
dragged a hand through his thick, dark hair. Georgie crossed her
arms over her chest, praying for the uncomfortable moment to end.
When he spoke again, his voice was calmer, more controlled.

“Where’s Cynthia? I assume she’s been told?”
He turned back to look at Georgie and the bleakness in his eyes
tore at her heart.

“She’s still on the ward, in bed. And yes,
of course she’s been told. I was with her a moment ago, right
before you came in.”

“How… How is she?”

“How would you expect?”

“Christ! She’s sixteen! She’s little more
than a child! How the hell is she going to cope with something like
this?”

Memories of Georgie’s own experience crashed
into her, but she forced them away. Now wasn’t the time to remember
how it had been for her, pregnant and scared at seventeen. With her
jaw clenched, she managed to respond.

“With all due respect, Mr Dawson, I don’t
think it matters how old you are. The loss of a child is
devastating for anyone to endure. It’s a tragedy that will take a
long time for her to get over. She’s going to need a lot of love
and support from her family.”

His eyes narrowed. “Have you met them? Have
you met our parents?”

“No,” Georgie replied, eyeing him steadily.
“I was referring to you.”

“Oh.” His mouth closed with a click and a
frown marked his brow. A moment later, he spoke again. “What about
the father of the baby? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. We only
ask the necessary questions, unless the patient volunteers the
information. Cynthia said she hasn’t seen the baby’s father since
she told him she was pregnant.”

“Great. That’s fucking great. He sounds like
a real keeper. She’s probably better off without the prick,
especially now she doesn’t have the baby.”

As if suddenly becoming aware of what he’d
said, Cameron dragged a hand across his face in anger and
frustration. “Shit! What a mess! What a fucking mess!”

Georgie frowned and put her hands on her
hips. “Mr Dawson, I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your language and
your bedside manner could definitely use some work. At sixteen,
your sister has not only given birth on her own, without any
support from her family, but in the space of twelve or so hours,
she’s gone from getting to know her new baby to being told that her
perfect little baby’s died. She’s understandably traumatized and
you need to curb any feelings you might have one way or the other
about the subject of who and how and why and focus on your sister’s
needs.”

Georgie’s breath came fast, but she wasn’t
finished yet. Stepping closer, she got into his face. “Your little
sister’s hurting and she doesn’t know where to turn, what to do, or
how to cope. What she needs right now is your unconditional support
and love. Keep your questions to yourself. When she’s strong enough
and when she’s ready, I’m sure she’ll tell you what you want to
know. Until then, you need to keep your mouth shut and just be
there for her. Do you understand?”

Cameron stared at her, looking more than a
little taken aback. Gradually, the tension eased from his face and
he stepped back, giving both of them some space. Georgie drew in a
few deep breaths and tried to get herself back under control.
Despite her best intentions, her actions hadn’t exactly been those
of a calm and collected professional. Her cheeks heated with
embarrassment. She owed him an apology.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I
was out of line. I—”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m glad
you did. I… I probably needed to hear it.” He blew out his breath
on a heavy sigh and once again turned away. As if unable to stand
still, he began to pace the small room.

“When my colleague first mentioned Cynthia
last night and the fact that she’d just had a baby, I was shocked
and angry. I’m eleven years older than my sister. I left home when
she was a small child and she was still in the care of our parents.
Discovering she’d become a mom at sixteen confused the hell out of
me. I was bombarded with questions, but had no answers.” He shook
his head and Georgie felt his frustration.

He spun on his heel and planted his hands on
his hips, staring at her. “Where were my parents when this was
happening? How did my baby sister come to be in Sydney, miles from
home, pregnant and alone? I couldn’t help but think maybe, just
maybe they’d treated her as poorly as they’d treated me and the
guilt of that possibility has been eating me alive.” His breath
came harsher and his hands clenched into fists. Renewed anger
flashed in his eyes.

“The very thought that Cynthia’s been forced
out on the streets makes my blood boil. I don’t want to believe it,
but nothing else makes sense. If they were supporting her through
her pregnancy, they’d be here, to support her through the birth.
Wouldn’t they?”

Once again, he turned his fierce gaze on
Georgie and she could barely manage a nod. She was trying to keep
up with the outpouring of past anger and hurts. She could
understand his reaction. She’d feel the same way if this happened
to one of her sisters.

“I-I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she
started hesitantly, “but you’ll find out soon enough. If I had to
guess, I’d say your sister’s been living on the streets. She was
very evasive about her living arrangements, apart from saying she
lived on her own and there are other signs—physical signs that
she’s been doing it rather tough.”


Fu
—” His jaw clenched and Georgie
could see the effort it took him to control his temper. “I’m going
to kill him. I’m going to track down that cowardly, sorry excuse of
a father and kill him with my bare hands.”

The coldness in his voice sent a shiver up
Georgie’s spine. She could only hope it was anger and desperation
talking, and that he didn’t really mean it. Dismissing his
declaration, she turned the conversation back to the matter at
hand.

“Let’s talk about Cynthia. Is there
somewhere she can stay? Do you have room at your place? I think it
might be best if someone keeps a close eye on her for the next
little while. It’s hard to know how she’ll react or if she’ll be
debilitated by her grief. Everyone’s different, but there’s no
doubt she’ll be grieving for a while. I can recommend a counselor
at the hospital who specializes in this kind of thing, but there is
a rather long waiting list, unless you can afford to have her see
someone privately.”

“I live alone in a three-bedroom
condominium. I’ll do and provide whatever Cynthia needs. Just tell
me what that is, and I’ll make sure it happens.”

Georgie held his gaze and in that moment
believed the integrity and determination she saw in his eyes. She
hid her relief. So many of her patients had no one to turn to for
support. Even those who left the hospital with their newborn in tow
still worried her when she knew they’d be battling with the
hardships of child rearing on their own. She’d never raised a
child, but she knew enough to know it wasn’t easy and was made
harder still when you were running solo.

“Cynthia’s lucky to have you,” she said and
meant it. Her first impression of Cameron hadn’t done him justice.
It was obvious there was more substance to him than that of the
self-absorbed, arrogant ladies’ man he portrayed.

He shrugged off her praise as if it were
unnecessary and even more, unwanted. She tightened her jaw and
curbed her irritation. She didn’t say things like that just for the
sake of it, but what would he know? He didn’t know anything about
her and was unlikely ever to find out, either. After his sister was
discharged, she’d never see him again. The thought was a little
disappointing.

“Can I go to her now?” he asked, breaking
into her musings. His voice held more than a hint of
impatience.

“Of course, but if you don’t mind, I’d like
to have a moment alone with her to let her know you’re here. I’m
guessing your visit will be as much a surprise for her as the news
about her was for you.”

He compressed his lips, but gave her a brief
nod of understanding—appreciative and almost friendly. She brushed
past him on her way out the door. A whisper of his expensive
cologne tickled her nose and she deliberately refused to think
about how nice it smelled.

She couldn’t help but wonder how he felt
about adoption in general, but it was obvious his relationship with
his adoptive parents was less than amicable. Given her past, it
would be beyond unwise to fall for a man who appeared to have
issues with at least part of the adoption process. He might be
good-looking, and smell nice, but she didn’t need a complication
like Cameron Dawson in her life, no matter how tempting.

Pushing the unsettling thoughts aside,
Georgie strode across the polished linoleum floor until she reached
the end of the ward. She eased open the curtain, calling out softly
to the young girl who remained curled up in the bed.

“Cynthia? How are you doing?”

The girl rolled over and stared at her.
Georgie was relieved to see the majority of Cynthia’s tears had
subsided. Red, swollen eyes and the occasional sniffle were the
only reminders of her recent distress.

“You have a visitor, someone who’d like to
see you,” Georgie said.

Cynthia frowned and Georgie could tell the
teen was trying to process Georgie’s words. “A visitor? For
me?”

“Yes. You mentioned yesterday afternoon you
had a brother. I made a call and managed to track him down. He’s
waiting outside. He’d like to see you.”

Cynthia’s eyes went wide with disbelief.
Hope and fear warred on her face. “You found Cameron? He’s
here
? At the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about…Josephine?”

“Yes.”

The girl closed her eyes and fresh tears
welled up beneath her lids and slid slowly down her cheeks. She
lifted a hand and brushed them away and then opened her eyes again.
She looked at Georgie and most of the fear had gone. Instead, her
expression was filled with hope.

“Would you like to see your brother,
Cynthia?” Georgie asked quietly.

“Yes! Yes! Oh, my goodness!
Yes
!
Please, ask him to come in.”

Georgie opened the curtain and beckoned to
Cameron who stood waiting a short distance away. No doubt he’d
heard their conversation through the thin fabric. He muttered a few
cursory words of thanks and pushed past her. Georgie moved out of
the way and closed the curtains after him.

“Cam, oh, Cam! I can’t believe it’s you! Oh,
my goodness! You’re so huge! I barely recognize you!”

“How are you, little sis? It’s so good to
see you, all grown up! I’ve missed you so much!”

Their voices were filled with laughter and
tears and most of all, love. Georgie sighed quietly in relief and
walked away with a much lighter heart. With time to heal and the
love and support of her brother, Cynthia would be fine. For that,
Georgie couldn’t help but be grateful.

CHAPTER
FOUR

 

Cameron helped his little sister into the
passenger seat of his second-hand, silver Audi R8 Coupe and closed
the door behind her. His head spun with a million frantic thoughts.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?

After her initial joy at reuniting with him,
Cynthia had slumped into a daze of sullenness and depression. Each
question he threw at her received monosyllabic answers and he was
fast running out of patience. Knowing his short temper was the last
thing she needed, he did his best to suck in a few deep breaths and
ease the tension from his shoulders.

He’d signed the discharge papers and had
effectively agreed to take on the responsibility of his minor
sister, but he wasn’t quite sure where to start. He hadn’t been
responsible for anyone but himself from the moment he’d left home,
and the knowledge that Cynthia was now depending upon him for her
welfare, scared him. Most days he was lucky to keep himself stable
and heading down the right path, and that was before taking on the
burden of a teenage sister and seeing to her needs.

Physical needs he could manage. Like he’d
told the cute nurse, he had plenty of room in his condo. It was the
emotional stuff that was in much shorter supply. He’d learned a
decade ago to shut down that side of him. It was safer and a whole
lot less painful if he kept his feelings under control. But his
little sister was hurting badly, dealing with the traumatic loss of
her baby, and it was up to him to help her.

The thought that she was no longer alone
surged through him, fierce and strong. By some stroke of luck,
karma—whatever—he’d reconnected with her and he was determined to
be there for her for as long as she needed him. She was a child
dealing with one of life’s toughest lessons. There was no way he’d
let her go through any more on her own.

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