A Christmas Knight (3 page)

‘Yes, I have.' He smiled at her.

Without that reserve, he was truly stunning; her heart felt as if it had just done a somersault. Which was crazy, because she wasn't looking to feel this way about anyone. She didn't need a relationship to complicate her life.

‘Do you have time for a quick coffee while I fill you in?' he asked. ‘I could do with a Danish pastry.'

That sounded dangerously close to a date. Even though Essie had said he was wrapped up in his work rather than relationships, she didn't want Dominic to get the wrong idea. Especially as she was aware of how attractive she found him. ‘Sorry, I can't. I need to pick up my son. Mum met him for me, but he hates it when I'm late.'

‘Can I give you a lift home and tell you on the way?' he asked.

‘Thanks for the offer, but my car's in the staff car park.'

‘Then how about I walk you to your car while I tell you about Rhiannon?'

She nodded. ‘That'd be good. Thanks. I'll just get my bag from my locker.' She hurried off to collect her things. ‘So what did they say?' she asked when she returned and Dominic walked with her to the car park.

‘Rhiannon's pulled through—the surgeons fixed the liver damage and stopped the bleeding. She's got an epidural in for pain relief, and she's going to be observed in ICU for a while to make sure she doesn't develop pneumonia.'

‘Did they wire her ribs?'

‘They decided against surgical correction of her flail chest, because the ventilator will make sure her lungs are
working properly and aren't compromised by her ribs,' he said. ‘As soon as the contusions are resolved, provided there aren't any secondary complications, she can come off ventilation. I popped in to see how she was doing and have a chat with Gary. They've warned him that her breathing is going to get slightly worse before it gets better—on the same principle that a bruise always hurts more the day after—but now he knows she's got a good chance, he's relaxed a bit.'

‘His daughter's nice,' Louisa said. ‘She'll support them both through it.'

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn't have a lunch break either, did you?'

‘Yes, I did,' she protested.

He gave her a wry smile. ‘Long enough to scoff a chocolate bar, hmm?'

‘A chicken wrap, actually. I don't like chocolate.'

He looked surprised. ‘You must be the first medic I've ever met who doesn't think it's a food group. And didn't you bring in a tin of chocolate biscuits the other day?'

‘Yes—because most people like them.'

‘So you're more of a savoury person?' he asked.

‘I love cheese scones,' she said. ‘And hot buttered toast with Marmite.'

‘That's utterly revolting,' he said, pulling a face. ‘So where did you work before here?'

‘The London Victoria. It's where I did my training.'

‘It's got a good reputation. What made you come to the George IV?' he asked.

‘The nurse practitioner post was vacant—plus my parents wanted to retire to the coast. I know London's only an hour and a half from Brighton, but Ty adores his grandparents and I wanted to be able to stay close to them.'

‘So your husband was able to move his job, too, or is he commuting to London?'

‘Ex.' She took a deep breath. ‘And Ty's father isn't part of our lives. At all.'

He grimaced. ‘Sorry. That was nosey of me, and I didn't mean to stomp on a sore spot.'

She shrugged. ‘It's OK. I guess the only way you get to know a new colleague is to ask questions.'

‘True.' Dominic looked wary. ‘And I owe you an apology from the other day. I'm not normally that rude.'

‘I didn't think anything of it.'

‘Yes, you did—otherwise you wouldn't have been so sharp with me in Resus this morning.'

She bit her lip. She had been a bit sharp with him. ‘I'm sorry I was—well, snotty with you.'

‘I understand why. Anyway, there isn't room for egos in our business. The patients should always come first.'

Her sentiments exactly. ‘I think we started off on the wrong foot.'

‘Agreed, and I'm sorry, too. For the sake of a decent working relationship, can we start again?'

She was all in favour of decent working relationships. ‘Louisa Austin, nurse practitioner. Pleased to meet you.' She stretched out her hand.

He shook it; again, it felt as if electricity bubbled through her veins, but she ignored the sensation. This was
work
.

‘Dominic Hurst, senior ED reg. Pleased to meet you, too, Louisa.' He paused. ‘You said you were looking for riding lessons for your son. I assume Essie told you I have a horse? My best friend owns the stables where I keep him. I could have a word with him and his wife.'

‘Thanks, but there's no point. He won't have a space.'

He frowned. ‘How do you mean?'

‘I've already tried ringing round some of the local riding schools and…well, their lists are all full.'

He looked surprised. ‘We're in a recession and riding lessons are one of the first things that tend to get cut, because they're not cheap—instead of going twice a week, people go riding maybe once a fortnight instead.'

Just as she'd thought. Especially when the waiting lists had suddenly become two years long. Might as well get it over with now. ‘The thing is, my son has Asperger's.'

He shrugged. ‘And?'

‘The riding schools I rang changed their minds about having places when I explained.'

‘More fool them. Riding's really good for Asperger's kids. Being with horses helps them learn to understand non-verbal body language.'

Now that she really hadn't expected. She was more used to people being uncomfortable around Ty. Understanding like this was rare. ‘Did you used to work in paediatrics, or do you know someone with Asperger's?'

‘I know someone,' he said, ‘and horses have made a huge difference to him. But I can remember his parents used to worry themselves sick about him, because he never seemed to make friends at school. I guess you probably do the same with your son.'

‘All the time,' she admitted, caught off guard.

‘Don't,' he said softly. ‘He'll be fine. He might only have one or two really close friends, but they'll be good ones—and that's better than having hundreds of acquaintances you can't really rely on when life gets tough. And if he finds a job that matches the things he's interested in and
doesn't involve having to deal with people whose minds aren't quite as quick as his, he'll shine.'

She blinked back the sudden rush of tears. How ridiculous. Just because someone understood, instead of making unfair judgements.

‘Look, I'm going straight to the stables from here. I'll talk to Ric and Bea tonight, and then maybe you can come and have a look round at the weekend, meet the team, and see if Tyler likes the place.'

‘That's very kind of you. Are you sure?'

‘They do a lot of work with the RDA—Riding for the Disabled Association,' Dominic said.

Louisa's chin came up. ‘Tyler isn't disabled. He just happens to have a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome.'

Dominic sucked in a breath. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. What I mean is, Ric and Bea believe in inclusion and it doesn't matter who you are or what your particular challenges are—if you love horses and want to ride, then you should have the chance to do it. Ric's parents owned the riding school before they retired and Ric took over, and they were the ones who started the RDA work at the stables. So Tyler won't be made to feel that he's a special case or anything—he'll be treated just like everyone else.'

Again, the tears threatened. How long had it been since people outside her own family and her best friend had treated her precious son just like anybody else? ‘Thank you.'

‘You're welcome.'

‘He's eight,' she warned, ‘and he's only ever ridden a horse at one of the farm park type places. He's a complete novice.'

‘Bea's a brilliant teacher. She's great with kids and she's
really patient with novices. I'll talk it over with her tonight. See you tomorrow,' he said as they reached her car.

‘See you tomorrow. And, Dominic?' She gave him a heartfelt smile. ‘Thank you.'

‘W
HAT
happened?' Louisa asked.

Mrs Livesey was ashen with worry, cradling her two-year-old son. ‘It's all my fault. The children were playing nicely and I was chatting to my friend over coffee—I should've been watching them more closely. Julian slipped and cut his head open on the piano. I put a cold wet cloth on it to try and stop the bleeding, but it wouldn't stop, so I brought him here.'

‘That was the best thing to do,' Louisa reassured her. ‘Scalp wounds always bleed a lot, so they often look worse than they are. Has Julian been sick at all, or had any kind of fit?'

‘No.'

‘Did he black out, or has he been drowsy since?'

Mrs Livesey shook her head.

‘That's good,' Louisa said. She assessed the little boy's limb movements, then shone a light into his eyes; she was relieved to see that his pupils were equal and reactive. She took his pulse and temperature—both of which were in the normal range—and gently examined the cut on his head. ‘It's clean—you did brilliantly there,' she told Mrs Livesey, ‘but it's a little bit too deep just to glue it.'

‘Glue it?'

‘You'd be amazed at what we can do nowadays,' Louisa
said with a smile. ‘I'm going to put a couple of stitches in there, because it will heal better with less scarring.' She stroked Julian's hair. ‘I'm going to put some magic cream on your head now to stop it hurting. But to make the magic work even better, we're going to have to sing a song. Do you know “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”?'

‘Yes,' the little boy said. ‘Tinkle tinkle.'

‘And can you waggle your fingers like starlight?' She demonstrated, and he copied her.

‘Brilliant,' she said. ‘And we'll get Mummy to sing, too, shall we?' From experience, Louisa knew that often parents needed as much distraction as toddlers. And Julian was giving a normal two-year-old's verbal response, which made Louisa fairly sure that the worst of his injuries was the cut.

Once the cream had numbed his skin, she got Mrs Livesey and Julian to sing with her, and gently but swiftly made sure the wound was perfectly clean, then sutured the cut.

‘That was brilliant singing, sweetheart,' she told the little boy. She glanced up at Mrs Livesey. ‘They're dissolvable stitches, so you don't have to worry about bringing him back to have them taken out. You need to keep an eye on him over the next couple of days; if he starts being sick, has a fit or is drowsy or just a bit unwell and you feel something's not right, come straight back. A mother's instinct is usually pretty sound and you know your child best.' She smiled. ‘It's a lot to take in, so I'll give you a leaflet about head injuries.'

‘And I have to keep him awake, right?'

‘No, it's perfectly safe to let Julian go to sleep—he's going to be tired from crying and the stress of hurting himself. If you're worried, try waking him after about an hour. I can tell you now, he'll be pretty grumpy about it,
but that's normal. If you can't wake him easily, that's when you need to bring him back.'

She answered a few more questions and, once Mrs Livesey was reassured, Louisa gave Julian a shiny ‘bravery' sticker and called in her next patient.

When she walked into the staff kitchen for a swift coffee break, Dominic was there.

‘Good timing. The kettle's hot.' He smiled at her. ‘Want a coffee?'

That smile was lethal, Louisa thought. Those dimples…no wonder her heart felt as if it had just done another of those odd little flips. But Dominic was her colleague. There wasn't room in her life for him to be anything more than that. And, even if there was, she'd got it so badly wrong last time that she was wary of repeating her mistake.
Handsome is as handsome does.

She strove to sound normal. ‘Thanks, that'd be wonderful. Milk, no sugar, please.'

‘Same as me.' He paused. ‘How's the little one you were giving stitches to?'

‘He's fine.' She looked at him in surprise. ‘How do you know about that?'

‘I was passing through Minors earlier, and I heard you singing a magic song.'

She felt herself colour. ‘Um.'

‘Hey, don't be embarrassed. I'm all in favour of whatever it takes to make a child feel less frightened, and singing's great. I learned three magic tricks when I was a student, precisely so I could make a child concentrate on something other than the reason they came in to see me.'

‘Magic tricks?'

He handed her a mug of coffee. ‘What's this behind your ear?' He touched her ear briefly; it was the lightest possible contact but it made Louisa very, very aware of him.
When he brought his hand away again, he was flourishing a coin between his thumb and index finger—which he then proceeded to flip between his fingers, one by one.

‘That's very impressive.'

‘It's called a Vegas coin roll,' he told her.

‘That's going to beat the offer of a sticker every single time—especially for the boys,' she said with a smile.

‘It doesn't take long to learn. I'll teach you some time, if you like,' he said. ‘Actually, I was hoping to catch you today. Ric says they have a space, so come along on Saturday for a chat. Any time you like between nine and four—he or Bea will be around.' He fished in his pocket and brought out a folded piece of paper. ‘This is their phone number, their address and directions to the stables from the centre of Brighton.'

She really hadn't expected that, and her breath caught. An unexpected kindness. ‘Thank you. It'll mean the world to Ty. He's been obsessed with horses for years—but, living in London, we didn't really get to see horses unless we went out at the weekend to one of the farm park places.'

‘And you thought that maybe he'd grow out of the obsession, get interested in something else?'

She nodded. ‘Our paediatrician said these obsessions are very common with Asperger's children, and they tend to change as the children grow up. But he still really, really loves horses.'

‘I'm with him, there. I met my horse when he was an hour old, and I fell in love with him on the spot.'

She could identify with that. The moment she'd first held Tyler, she'd felt a rush of love like nothing she'd ever experienced before—a deep, deep sense of wonder mingled with protectiveness and sheer joy. She knew that some mothers found it took time to bond with their child, but for her it had been instant and overwhelming—and the love
had grown even deeper over the years. ‘I'd better get back to my patients,' she said. ‘And thank you again. I really appreciate it.'

 

On Saturday morning, Tyler was almost beside himself with excitement. She drove him to the stables, and Bea showed them around.

‘Did Dominic mention about…?' Louisa asked quietly when they were in the tack room and Tyler was trying on hard hats.

Bea smiled. ‘Yes. I assume he told you about Andy?' At Louisa's blank look, she continued, ‘Ric's younger brother. He has Asperger's. Actually, he's in charge of stable management—Ric and I run the classes,' she explained. ‘So you don't need to worry. We're aware of the challenges, but as far as I'm concerned if a child loves horses and wants to ride, my job is to help the child do just that. We'll work around the challenges together, because we're all on the same team.'

Louisa had to swallow hard.

Bea patted her on the shoulder. ‘Riding's going to be great for him.'

‘Will he be in a class?'

‘I prefer one to one with beginners, at least for the first couple of months, until they're a bit more confident. But if he wants to come along to a class as well, once we've got him started, that's fine.'

‘Dominic said you do RDA work.'

Bea nodded. ‘We have half a dozen ponies that we use for RDA sessions—they're very calm and gentle. We run one class each day especially for RDA students. And it's not just about physical therapy, though of course riding's great for improving muscle tone and posture and helping to develop fine and gross motor skills. It's about life skills,
too—being with the horses helps both children and adults with communication skills, taking responsibility and being part of a team. And connecting with the animals brings in a new element to their lives.' She paused. ‘Really, Louisa, you don't need to worry. We'll take very good care of him. You can come and watch, bring someone with you, or even just sit in the car and read while he's having a lesson. Whatever makes you comfortable.'

‘I'd like to watch. Not because I don't trust you,' Louisa hastened to add.

‘But because he's your baby and you don't want to miss a thing.' Bea smiled. ‘The first time they ride without being on a leading rein, it's like watching them take their first steps. It always makes me tear up as much as their mums.'

And then Louisa realised that Bea would take as good care of Tyler as she would herself; as the tension in her shoulders eased, she realised how worried she'd been.

‘He'll be
fine
,' Bea said softly.

Tyler appeared before them, wearing a hard hat. ‘It fits, Mum.' He beamed at her.

‘Come on. I've got half an hour before my next lesson. Let's get Polo saddled up and you can have a walk round the paddock,' Bea said.

Tyler's eyes went wide. ‘Really?'

‘Really. Polo's going to be your special horse for a while, so let's get you introduced.'

Watching her son being led round the paddock put a real lump in Louisa's throat. And Tyler was glowing afterwards. ‘I did it, Mum. I'm going to be a knight. Just like the man in the photograph.'

‘The man in the photograph?' Louisa was mystified.

Bea looked at her. ‘Ah. You didn't know.'

‘Know what?'

Bea blew out a breath. ‘I feel as if I'm breaking a confidence here. But I guess you need to see it.' She took Louisa and Tyler back to the tack room and showed Louisa the photograph on the wall in silence. A man on a white horse, wearing black armour and carrying a lance.

When Louisa peered more closely at it, she realised that the helmet's visor was up and she could see the rider's face. Someone she recognised. ‘Dominic?'

‘He still has Pegasus, but he doesn't joust any more,' Bea said.

Dominic was a knight—or, at least, he had been one. But, given that he'd been so open about the fact that he had a horse, and that he'd helped her arrange riding lessons for Tyler, why on earth hadn't he said anything to her when she'd mentioned how much her son wanted to be a knight? ‘Why did he give up jousting?' she asked.

‘I think it'd be better if he told you,' Bea said. ‘It's not my place.'

‘Was he hurt?' But she could see the mingled concern and awkwardness on Bea's face. ‘Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. It's not fair to you. Forget I said anything.'

‘That's what I want to be. A knight,' Tyler told her.

‘A knight on a white charger, hmm?' Louisa asked.

‘The horse isn't white, he's grey,' Tyler corrected.

‘He looks white to me,' Louisa said.

‘White horses are
always
called grey, Mum,' Tyler informed her, rolling his eyes.

She ignored his impatience. In Tyler's mind, if he knew something, it followed that the whole world must know it, too. And in the same painstaking amount of detail.

‘He's a Percheron. They come from Normandy in France,' Tyler explained, ‘from a place called Le Perche. It's thought that Percherons are descended from destriers, but they're bigger and heavier than the medieval warhorses.
Destriers were trained so you didn't have to use the reins, because your hands would be full carrying your sword and your shield.'

‘Absolutely right,' Dominic said. ‘Hello, Louisa.'

Louisa jumped. ‘I didn't hear you come in.'

‘Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.' He looked at Tyler. ‘And you must be Tyler. How was your first riding lesson?'

‘Brilliant, thank you,' Tyler said politely. He peered at Dominic. ‘And you're the knight in the picture, aren't you? Bea says your horse is called Pegasus. That's a cool name. How big is he?'

‘Seventeen hands.'

‘And how much does he weigh?'

‘Nearly nine hundred kilograms.'

Tyler looked serious. ‘That's quite a lot.'

‘It feels like even more than that if he stands on your foot,' Dominic said with a wry smile.

‘Does he live here?'

‘Yes.' Dominic paused. ‘You can come and see him, if you like—if that's all right with your mum.'

‘Please, Mum? Can I?' Tyler's gaze was full of entreaty.

‘He's very gentle,' Dominic reassured Louisa.

And
huge
, she thought, when Dominic took them over to the stables.

Tyler duly admired the horse, asking if he was allowed to stroke him and then, at Dominic's agreement, stroking the horse's nose. ‘He's beautiful.'

‘He certainly is,' Dominic agreed.

‘Are you jousting this weekend?'

‘No.'

His voice was even, but Louisa noticed the shadows in
his eyes. Time to head off her son's line of conversation. ‘Ty, we ought to—' she began, but Tyler spoke over her.

‘But there's that picture of you. You're a knight. You had a lance and you were wearing armour, so you must be a jouster.'

‘Not any more.'

‘Why not?'

‘Ty, you can't ask questions like that,' Louisa said.

‘Why not?'

‘It's rude.'

‘But I didn't say a swear.'

How was she going to explain this? ‘Ty, let's talk about this later, OK?'

‘But I
wasn't
rude,' Tyler said, looking puzzled.

Dominic raked a hand through his hair. ‘It's a fair question. I don't joust any more because there was an accident and someone got hurt.'