Ross offered Ruth his hand. ‘Hello, Ruth. Thank you for taking such good care of my wife—we’re very grateful for everything you’ve done for her.’
Ruth inspected him curiously, eyes still cool and speculative. ‘Hello. How did you find out she was here? Is the phone working again, Dylan?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Dylan found it hard to concentrate on anything. Her back hurt too much. And she kept thinking about what Ross had told her just before Ruth arrived. His sister had told him not to make love to her? Ella had had no business saying any such thing.
‘I started looking for her at first light,’ Ross said. ‘And after a few hours I met a postman who, amazingly, had noticed her car up there on the lane. It was an astonishing stroke of luck.’
Ruth laughed. ‘Country districts are like that—everyone notices everything. I’m afraid I couldn’t get the garage to come and look at her car. They’re run off their feet today. Dylan wasn’t the only one to have a crash, and the garage are dealing with their own customers first, but they promised to try to come tomorrow, if the roads are clear around here. At the moment, the back roads like this one are all no-go areas, I’m afraid.’
‘And I see it is snowing again. Is it heavy?’
‘I’m afraid so. It looks to me as if it is going to go on all day.’
‘Well, I think we should go at once, then,’ Ross said flatly. ‘Dylan’s sister lives about eight miles from here. Not far in normal weather, but in heavy snow it could take an hour or so.’
Dylan stood up shakily. ‘I’d better go and dress, then.’ Ruth had brought her case in from the flower wagon just after breakfast, so she now had fresh clothes to put on.
‘I’ll come with you to talk,’ Ross said ominously, and she shook her head hurriedly. She needed time to think before she was alone with him.
‘No, stay and talk to Ruth. I’m going to take a shower.’
She caught Ruth’s startled glance but didn’t let their eyes meet. Ruth knew she had already had a bath that morning.
Ross didn’t try to insist, to her relief. Shrugging, he said, ‘Okay, don’t be long. I want to get away before this snow makes the roads treacherous.’
As she began making her way upstairs she heard him say to Ruth, ‘I’ve got a four-wheel drive, it can cope with any weather or terrain, and her sister is waiting anxiously to see her. Thank you again for...’
Dylan slipped into the spare bedroom and closed the door with a sigh of mingled relief, pain and confusion.
Was Ross telling the truth? Had his sister really told him not to sleep with her? It explained so much that had been hurting her, puzzling her, all these weeks past. Why on earth hadn’t Ross told her what Ella had said, though? If she had known, everything would have been so different.
She took a step towards the wardrobe where she had hung her clothes and doubled up with a grunt of agony as the pain in her back moved round to the front with a stabbing intensity unlike any pain she had ever felt in her life.
Groaning, she sank down on the bed, head down, trying to breathe the way she had been taught, fighting to regain control of her body in a struggle with the pain attempting to dominate it.
It subsided and she slackened in relief. Oooh, that was better. At least she could think again now.
How long had she had this back pain? Hours. Why on earth hadn’t she recognised it? She had read all about giving birth, she had been to antenatal clinic every month, she had talked to her midwife and doctor about what to expect . . . but she had totally missed one of the classic symptoms!
She had been so preoccupied with Ross, with her jealousy, her uncertainty, her hurt feelings, that she had not realised she was in labour.
She must have been in labour for a long time; the question was how much longer would it take? She was booked into a maternity hospital in the borders—much too far away. She would never get there in time, especially on roads blocked with snow, even if Ross tried to get her there.
The pain jabbed again, deep inside her, so painful that she could not sit still. She got up to walk about, trying to distract herself from it, breathing while she stared at her watch. How long since the last contraction? She had no idea—she hadn’t noticed the time.
She would have to wait until the next pain started and time from that; that would give her some idea how advanced she was in labour.
The door opened and Ross came in, stopped dead, staring at her. ‘What the hell are you doing, walking about like that?’
She told him and saw his face go white.
‘You can’t be having it now! There’s another month to go!’
‘You tell the baby that,’ Dylan said, sitting down again as the pain quietened and letting out a long, weary sigh of relief. ‘Could you drive over to Ruth’s friend Henry and ask him to come?’
‘What? Who?’ echoed Ross, looking at her as if she was nuts.
She laughed, feeling light-headed. ‘He’s a doctor.’