West Wing to Maternity Wing!(27)

Then there was the guilt. Guilt that she'd come to him for help and he'd  let her down. He'd let his guard down. He didn't want to be Amy's son's  doctor.

One of the NICU nurses walked past and gave him a little smile. Carrie.  Blonde. Cute. Nice butt. The old Lincoln would have chased her out the  door. The old Lincoln would have had her number in his phone in two  minutes flat.

Lincoln moved into autopilot. He lifted Zachary from the crib, strapped him to his chest and nestled him under his shirt.

He had absolutely no doubt about where he wanted to be. The effect of  seeing Amy again after six years had been like a punch to the face. No  woman had made him feel the way she did. He hadn't recognised love  because he'd never felt it before. He didn't know what to say to her,  when to back off, or when to move closer.

This was a steep learning curve.

But he'd never been one to shirk a challenge-and this was one thing he was determined to master.





CHAPTER NINE

AMY swallowed nervously as she climbed the steps towards the apartment.  Her arms couldn't hide the slight tremor in them as she carried her  precious bundle upstairs to the place she was currently calling 'home'.

This was nothing like she'd imagined. Zachary was six weeks old-he  shouldn't even have been born yet. But his feeding and weight gain had  been sufficient for him to be discharged from San Francisco's Children's  Hospital. His skin had lost that translucent look and his little body  had finally managed to store a tiny amount of fat and fill out a little.

His wide blue eyes had obviously started to focus and she could see him  studying her face at times and reacting to her expressions. And at five  pounds he was even big enough to wear some of the premature baby clothes  she'd carefully folded in a drawer in Lincoln's apartment.

But all of this still unsettled her. She was in San Francisco-this  wasn't home to her-but it could be. The longer she stayed here, the more  she loved this city, from its quirky visitors and attractions to its  deep-rooted history and traditions. She loved looking over to the Golden  Gate Bridge, she loved the bustling people around Pier 39. She loved  the rattle of the cable cars. And most of all she loved the staff  attached to San Francisco's Children and Maternity Hospital. Unlike most  hospitals, she'd yet to meet a member of staff who hadn't been warm and  friendly, who hadn't made her feel at home. She was sure that being a  good friend of one the consultants helped. But it was also a place she  could see a future in, a place where she would be happy to go to work.  So why the strange feeling in her stomach?

Lincoln had arranged for Zachary's baby items to be delivered to San  Francisco from Santa Maria. Literally overnight the white wooden baby  crib and chest of drawers had appeared in her bedroom in Lincoln's  apartment. The zebra-print baby seat was currently sitting next to the  sofa in the living room. And the red pram was parked at the bottom of  the stairs. All awaiting the arrival of baby Zachary.

She thought that she would have loved this moment. To finally bring her  son home from hospital was a huge step. She should be singing from the  rooftops. She should be telling the whole world that Zach was well  enough to come home. But she wasn't. She couldn't.

She was nervous. She felt sick. Her stomach was churning. Was this new-mother nerves? Or something else?

The patient, easily accessible staff in the NICU were no longer by her  side. The emergency monitors and equipment were no longer ready to be  pulled over at a moment's notice. All the little queries or insecurities  she'd had in the last few weeks couldn't be answered by another person  in the room. Or could they?

Because Lincoln was here with her. Lincoln hadn't left her side. Or Zachary's.

He'd done everything he could to help her. He'd bent over backwards to  be accommodating. And as much as she was grateful, it was going to make  it so much harder to say goodbye …

Because right now she knew that was what she had to do.

Lincoln slid his key into the lock in the door and pushed the buttons to  turn off the alarm. He held the door wide for her. She gave a little  smile and carried Zachary into the apartment, walking over to one of the  huge windows. 'What do you think, Zach? Do you like this place?'         

     



 

Because she certainly did. So why did she feel as if she had to leave?  Why, when the man of her dreams was offering her love, did she feel as  if she had to retreat to the distant hills? Why did she feel that she  couldn't even enter into a discussion with him?

She carried Zach through to the bedroom. 'Here's your crib, right next  to Mommy's bed. I'll be able to stick my hand through and hold your  hand.' She held him up to look, but Zach just blinked.

Her attention was caught by something new. 'Wow, look at this.' She  leaned over and touched the mobile hanging above the crib and turned on  the music. The soft, multicoloured animals started to spin around to  'Nelly the Elephant'. 'Did you get this?' she asked Lincoln.

He nodded slowly, folding his arms and leaning against the doorpost.  'Colour and noise are supposed to stimulate babies.' That smile again.  That smile that drew you in and held you there. Held you with those dark  blue eyes.

Being around him was good. His easy way and infectious laugh made her  feel comfortable. She'd fallen asleep in his arms several times over the  last few weeks, resting in the chairs next to Zachary's crib in NICU,  and woken to find her head on his chest and her arms wrapped around him.

The electricity between them was still there. He just wasn't acting on it.

And for some strange reason it hurt.

She knew it was all her fault. She hadn't reacted when he'd told her  that he loved her. She'd stayed silent, and he must have been hurt by  that. But what could she do? What could she offer him? A woman with an  altered body? Someone who hadn't yet reached the golden 'five years  cancer-free'? The chance to have no natural children of his own? Lincoln  was a gorgeous, handsome man. He deserved to have a better future than  the one she could offer him.

She already knew that he was becoming more attached to her and Zachary.  If the last few weeks hadn't been so hard she might have got her act  together and done something about it.

But she hadn't. And now here she was, in his apartment, with her baby son.

She felt an arm at her waist, but it was a casual movement, not an  intimate one. Zachary's eyes were starting to close, so she pulled off  his padded jacket and laid him down in his crib for the first time,  leaning back against Lincoln to watch his eyelids finally flicker shut  and his little body relax.

'It's been a big day.' His voice was warm, comforting, like a big blanket enveloping her.

'It has.' She sighed as she pressed the little night-light next to the  crib. His first night home from hospital. Should she really be feeling  so terrified?

'Want me to make dinner?'

All of sudden she felt exhausted. She wanted to lie down in the bed next  to her son and watch him sleep. She wanted to watch his little chest  rise and fall. She wanted to stretch her hand through the bars and let  his little fingers wrap around her big one so they could hold each other  while they slept. She shook her head. 'I'm not hungry, Linc. I just  want to lie down.'

He gave her waist a little squeeze. 'You've got to keep your strength  up. I have it on good authority that babies are hard work. How about I  make you something light like scrambled eggs?' His hand lifted up and  stroked the back of her neck in a soothing motion. 'It will take five  minutes then you could soak in the bath if you wanted.'

A bath. A deep-filled bath overflowing with lavender scents and bubbles.  That would be sheer bliss. She hadn't had a bath since she'd had  Zachary. She always seemed to be racing in and out of the shower. It had  seemed quicker, more convenient. This could be perfect.

She gave a little nod. 'Scrambled eggs would be good.' She stepped over  towards the en suite bathroom and picked up the bottle of dark purple  bubble bath, opening it, tipping a generous portion into the white  roll-topped bath then turning the tap on full blast.

Ten minutes later, tummy full of scrambled eggs and a baby soundly  sleeping, Amy stepped into the water and slid her body beneath the  bubbles.

She would have a think about things tomorrow-sort everything out in her  mind. Everything would seem clearer then and she would think about what  to say to Lincoln. She could make plans about returning to Santa Maria  and finding a paediatrician for her son. She would eventually have to  think about childcare for Zachary-who would want to look after a baby  that had been born premature? She would need childcare that could be  flexible around her shifts. Would she be able to find anyone to do that?  Maybe she should find a different job? Even the thoughts exhausted her.  Tonight she just wanted to relax.         

     



 

'Amy!'

The sharp knock on the door woke her with a jolt. Her brain took a few  seconds to focus, obviously a few seconds too long because the door  opened and Lincoln stuck his head through the gap. 'Is everything okay?'