How To Save A Marriage In A Million

I am a good nurse, I love the children I care for, and that’s all that matters.

She repeated the affirmation in her head, but it did little to divert her attention from the unsettling whole-body warmth she was experiencing in response to Richard’s touch.

‘Are you all right? Have something to drink.’

Clearing her throat, she tried to restore her self-control. But Richard’s eyes were firmly fixed on hers, as if he had something important to say but was uncertain how to say it.

‘I’m fine now.’ She took a sip of the offered drink.

He put his carton of coffee down, ran long fingers through his mane of unruly hair and cleared his own throat. He finally spoke.

‘I guess it’s time to talk...about you and me.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, and fixed her gaze firmly on the ground.

Dear Reader

The idea for this book was born after one of my writing friends had her head shaved to raise both awareness and money for a very good cause—the Leukaemia Foundation. That set me thinking about one of the worst things imaginable that can happen to a parent in their lifetime—the loss of a child to cancer. Fortunately more than eighty-five per cent of children diagnosed with cancer survive their illness and go on to lead full, healthy adult lives. So there is light at the end of what can initially be seen to be a very long, dark tunnel.

My hero is a paediatric oncologist and my heroine an oncology nurse. The people I know who work in this field are a truly dedicated group, who always have a smile or an encouraging word to give, no matter what the circumstances, and I hope my characters reflect those amazing qualities.

I make no apologies for planting Richard and Joanna in a very painful place at the beginning of their story. The challenge is for them to come to terms with (but never forget) the tragic events of their past, and find happiness in their enduring love for each other.

Of course the journey is not easy for them, but there are lots of joyful moments along the way—a scenario that mimics many real-life journeys.

I hope you enjoy the story of Richard and Joanna, and gain a little insight into an area of medicine that isn’t always smooth sailing but that can be immensely satisfying.

Best wishes and happy reading

Leonie Knight

How to Save a Marriage in a Million

Leonie Knight

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Originally a city girl, Leonie Knight grew up in Perth, Western Australia. Several years ago, with her husband, two young sons and their Golden Retriever, she moved south to a small rural acreage located midway between dazzling white beaches and the magnificent jarrah forest of the Darling Scarp. Now her boys have grown and left home, and the demands of her day-job have lessened, she finds she has more time to devote to the things she loves—gardening, walking, cycling, reading, and of course writing. The fact that she spent most of her adult life working in first a suburban and then a rural general medical practice, combined with the inspiration she gets from her real-life hero, makes it only natural that the stories she writes are medical romances.

This is Leonie’s second book.

Why not check out her fantastic debut?

SUDDENLY SINGLE SOPHIE

Available from www.millsandboon.co.uk

I dedicate this book to all cancer patients, cancer survivors and their families. I also acknowledge the devoted and caring group of doctors and nurses who provide them with support, knowledge, hope and light through their journey towards the goal of recovery. They are truly an amazing group of people.

And to Claire, who had the courage and generosity to have her head shaved.

PROLOGUE

JOANNA cradled her tiny newborn son in her arms. Just three days old and so beautiful…

Although the journey she’d travelled in the past twelve months had not exactly been a smooth one, it had been worth every moment of the anguish and uncertainty. The perfect, fragile, sleeping child she held more than made up for the shock of finding out she was pregnant at the age of nineteen, when her chances of conceiving and carrying a baby to full term had been so low.

The living, breathing evidence of her love for Richard compensated a million times over for the blackness of her mind-numbing fear when she’d begun to haemorrhage at thirty-five weeks. She’d suffered the physical and emotional pain of the emergency Caesarean section without complaint because the result was akin to a miracle. After the birth she’d been told by her obstetrician that her chance of unassisted conception was even less than before her gorgeous little boy had arrived. That didn’t worry Joanna. She had everything she had ever dreamed of snuggled up against her breast.

And Richard had been there for her all the way.

She was truly blessed.

Hearing the familiar sound of soft-soled shoes on polished vinyl, Joanna glanced towards the door of her hospital room. And she wasn’t disappointed.

‘Hello, you,’ Richard said quietly before his gaze moved to settle on the baby…their baby.

‘Howell, Samuel Benjamin. 2605 grams, 49cm. A precious son…’

The succinct words of the birth notice hardly did justice to the potpourri of emotions Joanna had felt—still felt—at bringing a new life into the world. It was a joy she thought she’d never experience.

Richard beamed, offering yet another extravagant bouquet of delicately scented yellow roses. He laid them, with the others, on the shelf above the compact desk. The room would be overflowing if she stayed in hospital much longer. He’d brought flowers every day since the birth and the tally now stood at three bountiful bunches.

She smiled. ‘Hi,’ was all she managed to say before her husband’s lips covered hers and he delivered a kiss loaded with gentleness and joy. Sam’s eyes opened briefly when his father ran a tentative finger gently across his little forehead. He then promptly drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

Taking a step back, Richard released a long, satisfied sigh.

‘What was that for?’ Joanna asked.

He hesitated a moment as if he needed the time to collect his thoughts. His voice was husky when he replied.

‘You’re beautiful. You’ve given me the gift of a perfect child and I think, at this moment, I must be the luckiest man on earth.’

He sat on the side of her bed and reached for her hand, covering it with his own before he added, ‘And I love you, Joanna Howell…More than you can ever know.’

But she did know, had always known, and she knew that those simple words didn’t do justice to the feelings they had for each other.

CHAPTER ONE

Eleven years later

IT was Dr Richard Howell’s first day at Lady Lawler Children’s Hospital and a mix of excitement, anticipation and uncertainty churned in his stomach like cement in a fully loaded mixer.

It wasn’t anything to do with the job, though.

The inevitability of bumping into Joanna again after spending three years working away in the U.K. had unsettled his nerves and filled his mind with memories, not all of them pleasant.

He snapped closed the latch of his briefcase at the conclusion of the interdisciplinary meeting which was held every second Monday morning in the paediatric oncology department. He still felt jet-lagged—he’d only arrived back in Western Australia three days ago—but was sure it wouldn’t take long to get back into the swing of his hectic oncology consultancy.

‘Coming for lunch?’ James Francis, the paediatric surgeon, asked as they left the meeting room and headed for the lift. ‘The food in the doctors’ dining room isn’t exactly gourmet but it’s far superior to the canteen.’

‘Not today.’ Richard had seen a notice on the pin board of the ward reminding the staff of ‘Shave or Colour for Kids’ Cancer Day’. Although he wasn’t sponsoring anyone he’d planned to go down and watch, with the aim of giving the participants some encouragement and handing over a donation for a very worthy cause that was close to his heart. ‘And I think I’ll take the stairs. I need the exercise.’

‘Suit yourself.’ The surgeon’s voice faded as the door of the lift closed. Richard bounded down several steps at a time and took a right turn at the bottom.

He remembered the canteen from when he’d worked at Lady Lawler on his paediatric rotation as a resident. That had been thirteen years ago, before he’d met Joanna and six months before he’d received his specialist training position at the Stirling, the largest children’s hospital in the state. A year later he’d met and married Joanna and she’d presented him with a beautiful son the following year. He’d thought his life was as perfect as it could ever be…until their world had been ripped apart. They’d decided to separate and he had taken up a posting in the U.K. Two years had turned into three and he’d extended his stay for the simple reason that he couldn’t face coming back—and seeing his wife again.

Yes, Joanna was still his wife, though they had been separated well past the official time necessary to apply for a divorce. Joanna had never pursued the matter, though, and he’d not had the desire or opportunity to remarry. So it hadn’t seemed important.

But now he was ready to lay the demons of his past to rest by somehow making up for his cruel abandonment of his wife after the heart-breaking death of their son. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it and it had been a difficult decision to make. He was home and there was no turning back.

Richard glanced around the busy hall. There were a couple of familiar faces but no one he knew well enough to sit with. The canteen hadn’t changed. Same monotonous menu of sandwiches, salad and a choice of a couple of hot dishes—usually a lukewarm pasta and one of an endless number of variations of chicken and rice. He chose sandwiches and juice and then made his way to one of the few empty tables on the far side of the room.

The ‘Shave and Colour’ was well under way on a makeshift stage near the exit. Members of the nursing staff seemed to be the main participants.

His attention moved to one of the nurses who sat with her back to them, submitting to a complete head shave. What struck him were her incredible tresses. Her hair wasn’t particularly long, but it was jet-black, thick and shiny.

This woman has guts, he thought. He couldn’t think of a more powerful or personal way to show how much she cared for the children she was sacrificing a truly stunning head of hair for.

Who was she?

Richard had a sudden need to know. He wanted to meet her and tell her how impressed he was with her courage. He was intrigued, and interested in her motivation.

A few minutes later the woman on the stage turned around, grinning, her skull as smooth as a billiard ball. Her assured gaze flitted around the room as the canteen occupants clapped and cheered. She waved and smiled at people she obviously knew.

Then her eyes locked on his. The connection lasted only a few moments but it had a profound effect.

It was Joanna.

His wife.

He hardly recognised her.

She’d always had long hair, braided or swinging halfway down her back. Every time she’d gone to the hairdresser, she’d come home with different-coloured highlights and he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the magnificence of her natural hair colour.

And she’d gained weight. She wasn’t plump but had healthy, rounded curves and colour in her cheeks. She also exuded a self-assurance he’d not seen in her during the eight years they’d been together.

Her appearance now reminded him of how much Sam’s illness and tragic death had drained her. Now her trademark love of life had returned. He suspected she had managed to come to terms with the painful memories, as well as rid herself of any feelings she had for her estranged husband.

Her eyes were still fixed on his when her smile faded. It was if she was challenging him to pick fault with what she’d done…as if she knew he’d experienced a peculiar grief for her loss, both past and present.

The challenge was oddly exciting.

Richard’s heart rate picked up a notch or two and he shook his head, trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. Probably jet-lag…hunger…first-day blues…

Part of what he experienced was raw, physical attraction and it took him totally by surprise. He hadn’t felt like this since…

He looked away, unable to sustain contact with Joanna’s unsettling gaze any longer. He attempted to finish his sandwich but it tasted like chalk and stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow.

Taking a deep breath, he decided he would go over and say hello. It wasn’t as if his return would be a surprise to her. She knew he was coming back and that he would be working with her. He’d made enquiries and found out she’d added oncology nursing to her list of qualifications and that she worked on Matilda Ward here. So he needed to define the boundary between work and any remaining vestiges of their personal relationship.

As he stood Richard took his wallet out of his pocket and extracted a fifty-dollar note, but by the time he made his way over to the stage to make his donation, Joanna had disappeared, probably back to the ward and her patients. The combination of disappointment and relief left him heavy-hearted but he hoped he’d see her the following day when he officially started on the wards.

His thoughts were interrupted by his pager. He had an appointment with the hospital’s medical director in ten minutes and he’d requested a reminder. He put the fifty dollars in the donation box.

It was time to file away his thoughts of the woman he’d once loved so fiercely and possessively and get back to work.

* * *

The previous week the nursing staff of Matilda Ward had had a detailed briefing about Richard Howell, the new head of the paediatric oncology unit at Lady Lawler, so Joanna had had plenty of time to prepare psychologically for his arrival. Lynne, the charge sister, had explained that, prior to a professional appointment in the U.K., he’d worked as a consultant at the Stirling Children’s Hospital from the time he’d begun his specialist training about twelve years ago. Lynne understood that he was an excellent doctor and a pleasure to work with, she’d told them.

Once the practical details of his return had been discussed, the curious female staff had embarked on the predictable gossip session.

‘How old is he?’ one of the young nurses had asked. Their previous boss was retiring and was well into his sixties.

‘Ooh, close to forty, I’d estimate,’ Lynne had replied.

‘Good-looking, I hope,’ Karen, the play therapist who had just broken up with her boyfriend, had piped up.

Lynne had then scanned the group of inquisitive faces. ‘I can’t answer that one. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him.’

‘He’d have to be an improvement on old Dr Price. Is he married?’ Karen had persisted.

Joanna had remained conspicuously silent during the discussion, but had felt the sudden heat of an unexpected blush at the mention of Richard’s marital status. Fortunately the other women’s attention had been focused firmly on Lynne, who had begun to put away the patient notes from handover. She hadn’t quite finished her exposé on Dr Richard Howell, though, and the woman had glanced at Karen, who had never been shy of saying what she was thinking.

‘Don’t get any ideas, Karen. As far as I know, he’s unattached. Separated or divorced, I heard.’ She’d hesitated. ‘Or at least he was when he left to go overseas.’ She’d looked at the play therapist sternly. ‘But I don’t want your mind straying from the job. Which reminds me, that’s what we all should be doing—working, not gossiping.’

Joanna had made a hurried exit and immersed herself in her work, trying not to think of the ramifications of Richard reappearing in her life. During the week before his arrival she’d tried to convince herself she would remain objective. Determined her relationship with Richard would be no different from her relationship with Dr Price, she’d devised an affirmation she’d repeated many times.

I am a good nurse, I love the children I care for and that’s all that matters.

But when Joanna had scanned the room after having her head shaved and seen the tall, fair-haired man staring at her as if she had just committed a crime, her heart had done a back flip and all that mattered had been the connection she’d felt with a man she’d tried so hard to forget. She hadn’t thought she’d see Richard until the following day when he officially commenced his clinical duties. She also thought she’d mentally prepared herself for all possible scenarios. Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Thank God she’d reverted back to her maiden name before she’d applied for the job at Lady Lawler. Even though Howell was a common name, she suspected there’d be the inevitable, light-hearted enquiries about whether she and Richard were related. She’d not told any of her colleagues the truth about her marriage and she had no plans to do so.

Seeing him again, after three and a half long years, had sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins that felt like a slow-burning fuse. Her days of emotional fireworks were over, though. She’d worked hard to regain a meaningful life. She’d also realised there was no place in her future for a husband. She wouldn’t run the risk of being abandoned again when the going got tough. Richard was her husband in name only. She’d put off discussing a divorce in the wild hope they might rediscover the love they had once shared in the early years of their marriage when Sam had been healthy and happy—the light of their lives. But Richard had not been able to cope with her grieving. He’d gone away and it was too late now.

I am a good nurse, I love the children I care for and that’s all that matters.

The closer she came to a face-to-face meeting with Richard, the more difficult it became to convince herself, especially now his first day on the ward had finally arrived.

She opened her locker in the nurses’ change rooms and replaced her casual clothes with the cheerful oncology staff uniform of coffee-coloured trousers and a crazy rainbow-patterned top. The outfit had been cleverly designed to have pockets in all the right places but bore no resemblance to the traditional dress of a nurse.

Thinking about the day ahead, she smiled as she stowed her gear in her locker. She wondered how Tye Coombs had coped with his final chemo the previous evening and whether Dylan’s grandparents had arrived from the country in time to wish him a happy birthday. As she walked into Matilda Ward she was greeted by the usual bustle of the night sister gathering the day staff for the morning handover, but even their cheerful chat didn’t distract her from thoughts of how she would cope with meeting Richard again. She tried her best not to appear preoccupied.

‘My God, you’re brave, Joanna,’ Karen said as she breezed into the nursing station.

Joanna smiled. ‘You mean my zero-gauge haircut?’

‘Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be game to do it again this year.’ She ran her fingers through her own honey-brown locks, which still had the vestiges of purple glittered streaks. ‘But then again, you can get away with it.’ The woman studied Joanna’s face for a few moments longer. ‘I wish I had eyes like yours and that fine bone structure.’

Joanna laughed. ‘I do it for the kids, and I don’t think they notice the finer points of bone structure. I suspect you’re just saying it to make me feel better.’

‘No, I really mean it.’

The conversation was cut short by Lynne, the charge nurse for the day, summoning them all together.

‘We’ve had a fairly quiet night and we actually have two empty beds, but I understand there’s a thirteen-year-old boy coming in today for bone biopsy tomorrow,’ Barbara, the night sister, began. ‘And there was one new admission at about midnight. Cassie Blake’s come in with a temp of 39.5 and a productive cough. Most of you know her, I think. Twelve-year-old with ALL.’

Lynne interrupted, ‘Do you know what that stands for, Tracey?’ She directed her question to the student nurse who had started on the ward the day before. The girl blushed.

‘Acute…er…lymphoblastic leukaemia,’ the girl amended.

‘Well done. Sorry, Barb, go on.’

‘No problem.’ Barbara smiled and refocused her attention on the pile of patient folders. ‘She’s halfway through induction chemo as an outpatient and responding well. Chest X-ray’s clear but she’s on IV antibiotics and two-hourly obs. Temp’s come down to 37.9 already. The physio will see her this morning and she’s to have another blood count.’

Joanna became aware of the presence of a late arrival in the small nurses’ station. By the hint of aftershave she knew the person was a male and he was standing directly behind her. She began to feel embarrassed that he had a full view of her recently shorn skull and as she moved sideways he leaned towards her and whispered, ‘No need to move,’ as casually as if he’d never met her before. ‘I’m just eavesdropping.’ Then he addressed the whole group.

‘Don’t let me interrupt, ladies…’ he glanced apologetically at Grant, the only male nurse on for the shift ‘…and gentleman. Just thought I’d get a head start on the ward round by listening in. Hope you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not, Dr Howell.’ Barbara beamed. ‘I was just about to say that you would be seeing Cassie this morning to assess her.’ She addressed the group again. ‘You’ve all heard Dr Howell is starting his clinical duties today as medical oncologist, taking over from Dr Price.’

All eyes turned towards the man standing behind her. Joanna sensed the rush of warmth and felt certain her whole scalp was glowing. This kind of reaction was so out of character. She was embarrassing herself and behaving like a teenager.

‘Thanks, Barbara, but please go on. Pretend I’m not here.’

Easier said than done, Joanna thought as she forced herself to concentrate on the remainder of the handover. It was no easy task with the man she had shared the most traumatic time of her life with standing so close she could feel his thigh touching her hip and the warmth of his breath on her neck. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by moving again, though.

Barbara was finishing. Joanna cleared her throat but her voice still sounded husky.

‘What’s happened to Tye?’

Barbara laughed and Joanna thought she detected a hint of a wink. ‘Even the prospect of his favourite nurse on duty today couldn’t keep him here. He left last night, straight after his treatment finished.’ She looked around the room. ‘Anything else, any questions?’

There was an impatient silence. They were all ready to embark on another busy day’s work.

‘Great, I’m out of here, then. Have a good day.’

* * *

Richard’s aim had been to get the feel of the staff attitude, the atmosphere of the ward and a rundown on the patients from the nursing point of view before his morning ward round. He’d had no idea whether Joanna would be working a morning shift so, when he saw her in all her close-clipped glory, he mentally rearranged his schedule.

She’d blushed at the mere sound of his voice; her breathing had quickened and he’d detected the slightest trembling of her hands when he’d accidentally touched her. He’d have to make an opportunity to speak to her alone, not only to reassure her that the last thing he wanted to do was to upset her but also to offer her an olive branch and let her know he wasn’t about to intrude on the life she now had…unless she wanted him to.

He leafed through the case notes while Lynne allocated patients and duties to her staff for the day.

‘Joanna will be coming with us, if that’s okay with you, Dr Howell?’ Lynne interrupted his train of thought. He didn’t look up, but gathered the files and put them on the trolley.

‘Fine by me.’

‘She’s the only nurse who gets to know all the kids on the ward and their families.’ She chuckled. ‘And a few of their secrets they won’t share with anyone else.’

Now, why didn’t that surprise him?

Joanna was again looking embarrassed, as if she wasn’t comfortable with compliments—an unusual personality trait in an experienced, capable and obviously respected nurse. Richard dismissed the thought that his presence was the reason and focused his attention on what the charge sister was saying.

‘We’ll see Cassie, our most recent admission, shall we?’ Lynne said as she guided them into the small room next to the two single rooms set aside for the special care of patients with severely compromised immune systems or serious infections that might be a threat to the fragile health of other sick patients on the ward. They all dutifully rubbed sanitising gel onto their hands.

‘Cassie’s been isolated as a precaution until we get confirmation of the nature of her infection. With your okay, Dr Howell, we’ll move her into the general ward as soon as we can.’

Joanna entered the room first and Richard noticed the girl’s face light up at the sight of her. Cassie’s mother, though she looked as if she’d had little sleep the previous night, also managed a smile.

Joanna held up her hand in a high-five gesture.

‘Love the new look, Jo,’ the twelve-year-old said with a cheeky grin as their hands touched. Both mother and child were behaving as if Richard and Lynne weren’t in the room. Their attention was entirely on Joanna…and they weren’t the only ones. She had transformed on entering Cassie’s room: she was now confident, charismatic even and seemed to have an aura of optimism hovering around her.

‘Can’t have you getting all the attention on the ward. I did it purely out of jealousy,’ Joanna said.

Cassie smiled and then finally acknowledged that Joanna wasn’t the only one who had entered the room.

‘Who’s that?’ she said with the typical forthrightness of the young. ‘Is he the new doctor?’

‘Where are your manners, Cass?’ her mother said as she stood to introduce herself. ‘I’m Kerry.’ She extended her hand.

‘Dr Richard Howell. I’ve taken over from Dr Price and will be looking after Cassie for the rest of her treatment.’ He turned to the girl and smiled. ‘Hi, Cassie. I gather you’re doing well with the chemo but you’ve had a setback. What’s happened to bring you back to hospital?’

The girl looked at her mother then began to cough. It was a rasping, throaty cough and, combined with Cassie’s good spirits, he doubted she had a serious infection.

‘You tell him, Mum,’ she said, slightly breathless from the exertion of coughing.

‘Her brother had a cold last week. Cassie caught it, just a runny nose and a bit of a dry cough and I thought she was getting over it. She’s in the middle of the cycle so I thought her neutrophils would be coming up and she’d be okay. But then last night—’

Cassie interrupted. ‘I got a fever and started coughing some gunk.’

‘And you know the rules about coming in—’

‘If I feel sick and my temperature goes over 38 degrees. But it’s come down, hasn’t it, Jo? When can I go home?’

Richard looked at the chart. Her temperature had steadily and rapidly decreased since she’d commenced antibiotics and the last reading was just above normal.

Joanna looked at him for confirmation, with those huge brown eyes that he used to be able to read like a book. Not now, though. The window to her thoughts had the shutters jammed closed.

‘You’re right. It was close to normal when night staff checked an hour ago. It’s all good news but I need to examine you.’ He glanced at Kerry for approval and she nodded.

After checking Cassie’s pulse, throat, ears and chest, the only thing he could find was a slightly inflamed throat, consistent with a viral infection.

‘She’s had a sputum and urine sent off?’ he asked Lynne, but Joanna answered.

‘And blood cultures. We should get microscopy back today but culture probably won’t be until tomorrow.’

‘Okay. Things are looking good, young lady, but we have to be sure we’re giving you the right antibiotics. We’ll get some results back today, including your blood count, but I’d like you to stay in until tomorrow when we’ll have all the tests back and can be absolutely sure you’re on the mend.’

Cassie frowned and her mother had a look of resignation as if she was expecting it. Neither spoke.

‘I’ll come and tell you the results as soon as they come through,’ he added. ‘And you can be moved to the main ward.’

‘Thank you, Dr Howell.’ It was Cassie’s mother who spoke.

‘Okay. And if you have any problems, I’m happy to see you and talk, answer any questions you might have.’

Lynne headed towards the door, a not-so-subtle indication she thought they’d spent long enough with their first patient, but Cassie had hold of Joanna’s hand and was pulling her close. She made an attempt to whisper but it was obvious the girl wanted Richard to hear every word of what she was confiding to the nurse.

‘You’re right, Jo,’ she said in a loud whisper. ‘He is gorgeous, and much nicer than Dr Price.’

Richard couldn’t help the tiniest smile that twitched on his lips.

Joanna had described him as gorgeous!

Certainly not a word he would use but it was the first glimmer of hope that the rock-hard shell she’d built to shield her emotions from him before they’d finally split up might have weakened with the passage of time.