“Dad—”
“Let me finish, son. It’s true. Sure, I got Gigi to come and look after you and she’s done a brilliant job. I made sure you were all dressed for the funeral, all got to say goodbye to your mom, but I never once asked how you were dealing with the loss.” He blinked a few times before continuing. “You kids just muddled along, doing the best you could and eventually we all started to laugh again, to fight like we used to, and get along like we do now. But underneath it all, we all had our own internal issues around that day. I lost the love of my life and I doubt I’ll ever get over it. She’ll always be there in a little corner of my heart.”
Drew ignored the misty eyes and the tremble of his father’s lips. “We knew you had to deal with things yourself. It wasn’t just us that lost her, Dad.”
“I understand that, but I should have talked to you more about her, asked how you felt, if you were okay.”
“And you think that might have made a difference?” He glanced up at his father.
“I think so, don’t you?”
Drew shrugged his shoulders, already knowing the answer. They’d all pushed down their grief because it had seemed too hard to talk about her. None of them could mention her name without breaking down for months afterwards.
“It’s funny how things we bury have a habit of climbing up to remind us when we thought we were doing fine. You need to talk about her. Talk about what happened and accept that you weren’t to blame. None of us where, it just happened. You of all people realize how true that is.”
“One in a hundred births. Yeah, I’ve seen the figures.”
“Bradley explained it to me. Said no matter how much we know in our own heart it’s not our fault, somewhere in the back of our mind, a little part of us refuses to believe it.”
“And we get past that how exactly?”
“Now that’s a tricky one. Only thing we can do is let our actions override that little voice. Seems to me that you letting the good women of Hope Island have their babies in your clinic could be a good way to do that, don’t you think?”
“You are one sneaky father. Anyone ever tell you that?” As usual, his father was right. He’d known it all along, but didn’t want to torment himself with the possibility of making a mistake just so his memories could rest easy.
“Constantly. Now, how about you set to putting things right with that lovely lady of yours. She’s been looking down in the dumps ever since the incident and I don’t like to see her sad any more than I like that frown on your face.”
Drew opened his mouth to deny it then thought better of it. April was a mirror to him, always had been. If he was down about something, so was she.
“About that. I wonder if you could do me a favor?”
Chapter 22
Nancy popped her head into the treatment room just as April started doing the vaccination report for the end of week. “April, we have a problem out in the carpark, a patient that needs assistance to get inside. Can you deal with it for me please?”
“Can Liam or Drew take care of it? I really have to get this off or the auditors will be knocking on our door.”
“Um, not really. Drew went out to do home visits and Liam has a backload of patients waiting to see him before he finishes for the day. I’d do it, but the phone won’t stop ringing.”
She rolled back her chair and stood up. “Fine.” She walked down the passageway and out the back door, taking note that the wheel chair was in its normal place just in case she needed it. Besides her car and Liam’s, there were no others out there. Only a bright red horse drawn carriage with two very patient looking Clydesdale horses and a large hunk of a man holding their bridles talking to them. Intrigued, April walked over to him.
“Good afternoon. I was told someone out here needed my help and since you’re the only person here.”
“April Williams?”
“Yes, that’s right. And you are?” She quickly scanned him for injury, found nothing out of the ordinary, and looked at his face again. He seemed familiar but she wasn’t sure why.”
“Deacon Fielding. You went to school with my younger brother, Wayne.”
“Oh, of course. How is he?”
“He died overseas fighting.” The larger of the horses leaned against his shoulder, demanding attention. Deacon laughed and rubbed the soft pink and white nose. “Dear old Daylight. Hates to be ignored, he does.”
“I’m sorry to hear about Wayne. That’s tragic news.” Seems the war had touched everyone.
“Been awhile now. But the reason I’m here, April, is to take you for a ride.”
Excuse me! “I’m sorry, did you say take me for a ride?”
Deacon grinned, pulled a card from his pocket, and handed it to her as the horse continued to rub against him. Flecks of white horse hair clung to his black waistcoat.
April took it from him and opened it. Inside a white card had a handwritten note on it.
Please come with Deacon. Enjoy the ride and don’t worry about a thing. Everything is taken care of.
Love, Drew.
“Oh. I don’t know. I have work to do and patients to deal with before I leave for the day.”
“Drew said I was to wait no matter how long it took you to agree.” He took a couple of sugar cubes from his pocket, holding out one to each of his horses, his hand
