The Doctor's Marriage

by Leah Martyn

  Riley’s head went back, his eyes flint-like. ‘Touché, Janey.’ He gave a brittle kind of laugh. ‘I was out of line with my comments earlier, Angelo. It won’t happen again.’

  Jane had had enough. Suddenly, she needed air. Getting to her feet, she murmured an excuse and made a hasty exit. In her consulting room, she distractedly threw stuff into her bag. Changes to all aspects connected with the practice of medicine were happening almost daily. Somehow she had to try to keep up with them.

  She sighed as she closed and locked her office door. There was so much she wanted to tackle with Riley. His sudden attitude for one thing. But she was rational enough to realise that, whatever angst she might feel inside, nothing could be achieved from fighting with him.

  As she crossed the car park to her Metro, her shoulders lifted in a heavy sigh. Why did everything have to be such a mess? And Riley—she’d give a week’s salary to find out what was really going on in his head. As if the concentration of her thoughts had made him materialise, he suddenly became visible, leaning against the driver’s door of her car. Her heart contracted painfully and she took the last few steps towards him.

  ‘Things can’t go on like this, Jane.’ He gave her a bleak, hard look. ‘We have to get past this tit-for-tat nonsense.’

  Ignoring him, she stowed her medical bag in the boot and locked it. When she could delay no longer, she moved to the driver’s side of the car, the key purposefully in her hand. Riley was blocking her way, making no effort to move. ‘What’s going on with you, Riley?’ she demanded tightly. ‘And what have I done to deserve that snide little comment you trotted out in front of Ralph and Angelo earlier? How could you be so damned unprofessional?’

  Riley shifted a bit uncomfortably, caught in the blaze of reproach that sparked from her silver-grey eyes. Frustration was eating him alive, coiling in the pit of his stomach, exacerbating his need for her.

  Mentally he derided himself as he watched her wrap her arms across her torso underneath her small, high breasts in an unconscious gesture of self-preservation. His jaw clenched. Sweet heaven, they had to solve things between them—one way or another…

  Jane kept her gaze averted. An intensity of emotion ambushed her out of nowhere, gnawing at her insides. In her head she acknowledged that Riley was right. They had to get past trying to score points off one another.

  She swallowed, feeling the painful glitch in her throat. ‘Let me open the door, please. It’ll be dark soon and I want to get home.’

  Already the sun had slipped over the horizon, burnishing the sky with red-gold rays. Soon the early evening light would replace it and begin transforming the ruggedness of the mountains, softening their stark outlines.

  ‘Hell, Jane, why aren’t we sharing our lives?’

  His soft question and all it implied twitched her nerve-ends into a mangled heap. She shook her head, her hand tightening on her keys. ‘You were the one who left, Riley.’

  ‘Can’t we get past that?’ Suddenly, he looked overwhelmingly weary. ‘Look, we can’t stand here all night. Come up to the flat with me. We’ll have a drink, cobble something together for dinner.’ Almost absently, he reached out and began to stroke his hand across her shoulder. ‘What do you say?’ His dark eyes with their subtle flecks of gold seemed lit from within for a second and then they were neutral again, quite detached.

  Jane blinked. What was the alternative—another night of restless sleep, wondering whether or not they had a future together? She took a deep breath of resignation. ‘All right, then. But I don’t want to make it a late night.’

  He swore gently under his breath. ‘Why do you always have to make conditions?’

  ‘I don’t.’ Did the hurt show in her voice?

  ‘Maybe not.’ He laughed, a short, painful sound. ‘Take no notice of me. I seem to be on a short fuse these days.’ His hand firmed across her back, guiding her to the side entrance of the building and upstairs to the flat.

  ‘Perhaps you need a tonic,’ she offered, trying to ease some lightness back into the situation.

  ‘Or a wife.’ His hand came up and caressed the nape of her neck.

  Under the mesmerising pressure of his fingers, Jane stood very still while he unlocked the door to the flat.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE flat was far neater than Jane would have expected at the end of a working week.

  ‘I’ve improved on the home front these days.’ Riley gave a dry smile, interpreting her cursory inspection.

  Well, his year away had achieved something positive, then. Jane was thoughtful as she went to the window and looked out. Perhaps the same nurse who’d showed him how to cook had instilled some domestic skills in him as well. Lord knew, she’d tried hard enough with only sporadic results. But, then, long before Jane had met him, his mother had done everything for him…

  Jane pulled her thoughts up short. She liked her mother-in-law. Natalie Brennan was a lovely lady who adored her only son, and if that was a fault, then so be it. She’d always made Jane feel welcome even though their backgrounds were so totally different.

  ‘What’re you thinking?’ Riley joined her at the window, his gaze following hers to the neat back garden with the rotary clothesline whirling in irregular circles and twists from the vagaries of the evening breeze.

  ‘I was thinking about your mother,’ Jane said honestly.

  ‘And?’ He handed her the glass of wine he’d poured.

  Jane caught her lip in her teeth. ‘Have your parents said anything about our present state of affairs? I mean, I haven’t been in contact with them all this time we’ve been apart.’

  ‘They were sad about that.’ He paused. ‘Did you think you’d not be welcome?’

  She gave a stiff little laugh. ‘I’m hardly the daughter-in-law they would have chosen.’

  He looked bewildered. ‘Why all these doubts and insecurities, Jane? My parents loved you. Love you,’ he corrected. ‘If they haven’t been in touch, it’s because they didn’t know where you were.’

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. ‘And I’m sorry about that,’ she said softly. ‘I guess, to some extent, you and I have spent this past year running away from reality, haven’t we?’

  His eyes darkened and he watched her face intently. ‘You know the reasons I joined MSF, Jane.’

  Inside out, she thought bleakly. Lifting her glass, she took a mouthful of wine. ‘Did it work?’ She turned suddenly, flattening her hand against his chest. ‘You haven’t said…’

  ‘I’m back, aren’t I?’ He covered her hand with his, absently stroking her knuckles with his thumb. ‘Mostly, I was so busy I didn’t have time to think how it was affecting me. And there were some good times, some lighter moments.’ He smiled, as if the reminiscence pleased him.

  Jane felt suddenly shut out, a cold shaft of resentment spiking her backbone. ‘Why did you stay on for another six months, Riley?’

  ‘That’s easy.’ He lifted his glass and drained it. ‘I felt needed there.’

  She flushed, feeling the poisoned dart hit her heart. She looked down at her hands holding the glass. ‘Were you faithful to me?’

  He stiffened and went very still, the sudden grooves of tension appearing on his cheeks like slashes from a sharp-edged sword. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

  ‘A logical one I would’ve thought. You’re a virile man. A year without—’

  ‘Stop right there!’ he warned grittily. ‘Next thing your flights of fancy will have us running all the way to the divorce court.’

  There was a sickening silence.

  ‘I…think I’d better go.’ Jane’s voice was hardly above a whisper. She felt ill and cold, as if all the life had been sucked from her.

  ‘No.’ Riley pulled air into his lungs and let it go. ‘You’re not running out on me, Jane. Finish your wine and we’ll make dinner. That’s what we agreed to.’

  Jane was hardly aware she’d gulped down the rest of her wine. She handed Riley her glass. ‘I’d like to fresh
en up.’

  ‘Go ahead.’ Their eyes locked for an endless moment, until Riley looked away. ‘You know the way.’

  She did. The flat had been her home, too, when she’d first taken up her position at Mt Pryde Medical Centre.

  In the bathroom, Jane dashed the sudden tears from her eyes, knowing they were tears of frustration, of anger. And there was an ache inside her that wasn’t about to be assuaged by making dinner…

  Damn Riley Brennan! Biting back a sob, she ran cold water onto her wrists and splashed her face and then patted it dry. Placing the towel back on its rack, she forced herself to look in the mirror. Heavens, she looked a mess. Eyes too big for her face, a mouth that wouldn’t stop wobbling for two seconds.

  Sniffing hard, she turned away, thankful she’d picked up her shoulder bag as she’d left the room. After some running repairs to her make-up, she dragged a brush through her hair. That would have to do. But at least she felt a bit more in control, marginally able to cope with the rest of the evening.

  Riley was still where she’d left him, staring out of the window. At her soft footfall on the polished floorboards, he turned. She blinked at him and for a split second the world seemed to telescope. And then he was holding out his arms, wide and welcoming.

  Jane’s feet suddenly had wings.

  Riley’s arms were hard and strong and tender. One large hand cupped the back of her head as he held her, rocked her like a child.

  His words were muffled against her hair as he soothed her. Over and over. Jane felt her body relax and breathed deeply. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly, feeling his heart strong and insistent, like the relentless beat of the waves against the sand. After the longest time, she drew back, looking at him, her eyes welling again. Why were they being such fools?

  ‘I’m sorry.’ The words trembled on her lips.

  ‘How did we let this happen?’ He stared at her, his eyes darkening with need. ‘We’ll work things out, sweetheart. Somehow.’

  She reached up, smoothing the dark hair away from his forehead, her eyes large and luminous. She could only hope he was right.

  Their hands still linked, they went through to the kitchen. Even though she felt drained mentally, Jane realised she was hungry. Her eyes flicked over the claret and white compact domain, noticing the unwashed coffee-mugs in the sink, a curl of orange peel draping the edge of the drainer, a scattering of crumbs on the tabletop. She smiled inwardly. This seemed more like the habits of the not-quite-perfect Riley she’d met and fallen in love with.

  ‘What should we do?’ She brought her gaze up, her fingers pleating the buttoned front of her blue and white striped cotton shirt. ‘Open some cans and heat something up?’

  ‘We can do better than that.’ With the air of a magician about to display his conjuring trick, Riley opened a small cardboard carton on the benchtop. ‘One of my patients presented me with some free-range eggs this morning. Omelettes coming up.’

  ‘Which patient?’ Jane asked, eyeing with a tolerant smile the brown-speckled eggs he flourished in front of her.

  ‘Not telling.’ Riley went to the sink to wash his hands. ‘You’d only pinch him from me to get a share of the spoils.’

  There was a guarded light-heartedness between them as they prepared the simple meal. The kitchen didn’t boast a proper omelette pan so they made do with a flatish frying-pan.

  ‘At least it’s got a heavy base,’ Jane observed, brushing over a coating of light olive oil while Riley beat the eggs gently. ‘And you’ve got herbs, too.’ Impressed, she raised her eyebrows, holding back a grin as he swiped the tops off a variety of leafy plants in pots along the window ledge.

  He looked sheepish. ‘I picked these up at the supermarket. We used herbs a lot in Nigeria. Had to, to make the food bearable. Not sure what these are, though. They didn’t have any labels. But I’m sure they’ll be OK.’

  Jane had her doubts, chewing the inside of her bottom lip, stopping a chuckle. One of the leafy specimens looked suspiciously like a marigold. But on the other hand, maybe it was one of the new varieties of parsley… ‘I’m sure we should all be more adventurous with our meals,’ she contributed lightly.

  ‘Actually, my patient was Harry Jorgenson.’ Riley nudged her gently aside to get to the pantry.

  ‘Oh, I’ve treated Harry. His arthritis playing him up?’

  ‘Well, today it was back pain mostly. He tells me he runs one of the largest piggeries in the district.’ With a spatula, Riley carefully eased the fluffy omelette away from the sides of the pan.

  ‘Mmm. Riley, do you have the makings of a cucumber and tomato salad?’

  ‘Maybe.’ He half turned from the stove. ‘Have a look. From my examination, I’d say he’s been lifting incorrectly for most of his farming life,’ Riley went on, interspersing the domestic conversation with details of medical matter. It was a pattern they’d established over their years together.

  ‘He grows his own grain crops as well to feed his pigs.’ Jane drizzled a vinaigrette dressing over the salad. ‘Obviously he’s always done hard, physical work. Are you going to X-ray him?’

  ‘I’m trying him on a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory for a start, and I’m hoping to coax him into some physio. Of course, basically he needs rest.’

  Jane licked a spot of dressing off her finger. ‘Which he’s not about to get.’

  Riley frowned. ‘Maybe we could have a series of talks on men’s health with topics geared to our patients’ particular rural lifestyles. Would the men of Mt Pryde be receptive, do you think?’

  Jane twitched a shoulder. ‘Bring it up at the next staff meeting. Ralph and Angelo might have some idea if it’s feasible. Harry’s a great old boy, isn’t he?’

  ‘Great for a yarn,’ Riley said dryly. ‘He’s offered to teach me to plough.’

  Jane’s hand went to her throat. ‘On a tractor?’

  He chuckled. ‘They don’t use horses any more. And before you say anything, Janey, I’ll be careful.’

  ‘You mean you’re actually going to take Harry up on his offer?’ she squeaked.

  ‘Why not?’ Riley lifted a dark brow. ‘We should all be open to new experiences,’ he added, sneakily quoting the essence of her own words back at her.

  Some time later, they were replete, sitting over their coffee.

  ‘Things don’t seem so bad when you’ve got food in your stomach.’ There was an odd intensity to Riley’s statement.

  ‘How bad was it over there?’ Intuitively, Jane’s questioning glance flicked towards his face. ‘I mean, really.’

  ‘Pretty testing in Africa.’ His jaw hardened briefly. ‘At least in East Timor we had reasonable back-up. But we had to think on our feet primarily. Hope what we did was appropriate for all concerned.’

  Jane said thoughtfully, ‘Is working in Mt Pryde going to be enough for you, Riley? For that matter, is rural medicine going to be enough after what must have such a total experience working for Doctors Without Borders?’

  ‘This is where I want to be,’ he said without hesitation. ‘Hell, have I ever resisted a challenge?’

  ‘Not that I can remember,’ Jane contributed dryly.

  ‘Maybe the reasons why I joined MSF were a bit screwed up.’ He looked at her and his finger gently brushed against her cheek. ‘But professionally it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. And maybe it’ll look good on my CV,’ he ended on a wry note.

  They washed up the dishes in companionable silence and then Riley put on fresh coffee. He’s taking it for granted I’m staying, Jane thought, chewing her lip. And when he got down two glasses and poured them each a small measure of tawny port, she began to feel slightly panicked, her mouth dry.

  And as the evening went on, she found it increasingly difficult to take her eyes off him, his mannerisms endearingly familiar. Like the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he raked his hand through his hair when he was intent on explaining his point of view.

  To her discomfort, she fou
nd herself remembering the feel of his body against hers…

  Riley talked, and as Jane listened she was forced to conclude that the year away had changed him, deepened him in small ways only she who had lived so intimately with him would have recognised. Again, she wondered whether, despite his protestations, life as a rural GP was going to satisfy him professionally. Would the time come when he’d want to leave again to chase after another dream, metaphorically climb another mountain, deliver himself over to another cause half a world away? And what if they had a child? Would he leave them both?

  ‘It’s been good to talk, hasn’t it?’ Riley finally stood up and stretched.

  Jane nodded. Although she hadn’t done much talking, she had enjoyed listening to him.

  He held out his hands. ‘Come on, Dr Rossiter. I’ll walk you down to your car.’

  Jane looked uncertain, feeling his handprint across her back as he propelled her to the door. Obviously he wasn’t going to put any pressure on her to stay. Would she, if he had? With honesty, she admitted she didn’t know.

  She took a deep, deep breath as they got to her car. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d say so,’ he murmured, gathering up a handful of her hair to expose her nape for his kiss. ‘I’ll bring my laundry over.’ In the half-light he looked down at her, his dark hair falling over his forehead.

  ‘Rats, you will.’ She gave a shaky laugh but the laughter quickly died and she felt a rush of desire as he turned her slowly to crush her in his arms, kissing her mouth, filling her with the taste of him.

  The kiss ended too soon.

  Suddenly Riley was pulling back, holding her at arm’s length. His chest heaved as he curbed his breathing. ‘This has to be what you want, too, Jane,’ he said in a voice dragged over gravel. ‘With all your heart.’

  Jane shivered, seeing the almost-challenge in his eyes as he forced himself back from the brink. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning. ‘Riley…’ She swallowed the lump in her throat, mentally still hanging back for reasons she didn’t fully understand. ‘I feel better about things,’ she compromised. ‘But I’m still not sure…’