Page 126 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
She snorted. ‘I think you must still be drugged.’
‘Maybe.’
They stood there looking at each other, her hands pressed against his heart.
Tom spoke first. ‘You know, when they woke me in recovery, I was still so woozy from the anaesthetic all I could think wasSo, that’s it. Legs gone.I couldn’t feel anything and I had never allowed myself to hope. The whole time, all the waiting … to me, it felt like I was just pushing out the inevitable paraplegia. The medical staff were speaking to me, saying the surgery was a success, but I couldn’t get it, at first. I thought success meant: you’re alive, Tom. I couldn’t believe it when I understood they meant the removal had been a success.’
‘You’d worried about it so long, it had become the only reality your brain would accept.’
‘That actually sounds quite smart.’
‘Hey, I’ve got plenty of practice in the worry department.’
‘I know you do. Which is why I couldn’t let you worry about me, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.’
The door slammed open and Samuel stood there, filling the space. ‘Physiotherapist is ready for you, Tom. We need to head down to the rehab centre, and since your chart says sedate walking for brief periods is the only activity allowed, I’m gonna pretend I haven’t seen you snogging your lady friend in the corner. On the bed. Sir.’
Tom muttered under his breath and Hannah smoothed his jumper then let go.
‘Wait for me?’
‘Always.’
CHAPTER
50
Four and a bit months later
FirstLook© tests alert you to the presence of a hormone (human chorionic gonadotropin [hCG]) in your urine; for best results, use the test first thing in the morning.
Hannah stuffed the instruction leaflet back in her pocket and looked at the stick for what felt like the eighty-sixth time. Two stripes.Two. That first one was the control line so, okay, the kit was working. But that other line!
She felt a little scream on the inside.
She knew biology, and she could science the shiitake out of anything she put her mind to, but for some reason she was having a lot of trouble interpreting these results.
It seemed … it could be … it was, in fact, highly likely … that she was pregnant.
An impatient hand, which she was guessing was liver-spotted and sinewy and belonged to Kev Jones, banged on the door. ‘How long can one chick spend in one portaloo?’ he yelled.
Maybe it wasn’t just one chick in here, she thought.Maybe it was two chicks! Or one chick and one pale-haired, blue-eyed little horseman.
‘Your event is on in ten,’ Kev said, and he must have had his face mushed up right into the crack of the portaloo door, so she took pity on him, shoved the stick down the front of her bra and opened the door.
‘I’m coming,’ she said. ‘Hold your horses, mate.’
‘Like I’ve not heard that before. Come on, Skippy’s raring to go and your mum and dad have elbowed their way onto the platform closest to the cutting yard, so make sure you give them a smile, all right?’
‘Yes, Kev,’ she said.
She was good at smiling these days. She smiled every morning when she woke up in Tom’s arms, and every night when he stroked her hair and told her she was beautiful and embarked upon wickedly delicious things that—hello—even the burly Laird of Finchmore hadn’t mastered.
Skippy was saddled and ready to go, with Josh holding his bridle.
‘Where’s Vera?’ she said.
‘Sitting with Mum and Dad. We’ll see you after the maiden event.’
