by Clare Revell
She began to clean the wound on his hand.
The blue eyes flicked open. “What’s the damage?” His intoxicating and intriguing accent filled her small exam room. She couldn’t place it, as it seemed to be neither one thing nor another.
She shot him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “You’re going to be fine. Just lie still and let me finish up here.” She picked up his hand to finish her exam. “Your hand is going to need a couple of stiches, and you’ll need to keep it clean for a few days.”
Jess pulled over the tray of equipment and his color drained again as he gazed at the needle.
Jess shook her head and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Big strong bloke like you isn’t afraid of a little needle, surely?” she asked, making light of the situation.
“Aye, maybe I am,” he drawled, sounding Scottish again this time.
“So close your eyes and think of home,” she told him. “I won’t be long. Small scratch first as I’m going to numb your hand. That’s an intriguing accent you have. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No. I was born in Scotland, but spent my life all over. Most of it in the States.” He stared at the ceiling as she stitched.
“Sounds like a fascinating story.”
“Not really.”
Jess finished with a bandage. “All done.” She scribbled quickly, grateful the local pharmacist could read her handwriting. It was a standing joke that all doctors’ handwriting was illegible and hers certainly was. “Here’s a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers. When was your last tetanus shot?”
“Five weeks, three days ago.” The answer came back firmly and swiftly.
“That’s very precise.”
“It isn’t something I’m likely to forget in a hurry.” His gaze swung from the ceiling back to her face. “They use needles in the States too.”
“OK. Go and see Nerys on the desk, and she’ll give you the forms to fill in to register you here. Make an appointment for next week to have the stiches removed. Either with one of the nurses or with me, depending on whom you’d rather see.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“You’re welcome. Take care now.”
Jess cleared up for the next patient. Her pulse pounded, her chest tightened, her stomach was doing somersaults and her head throbbed. Anyone would think she was in love.
Pfft. Jess shook her head. She could give herself several very good reasons why love was not a good idea. She marked them off on her fingers as she listed them.
“One–he’s a patient. Two–you’ve only just met him. Three–he’s a patient. Four–he isn’t going to be here long. No one ever stays here long. Five–he’s a patient. Six–love at first sight doesn’t exist. And seven and most importantly–He. Is. A. Patient.”
Jess retied her hair and took a deep calming breath. Then, she headed out into the waiting area. Seeing Josh standing at the desk filling in forms took her breath away. She recovered quickly, and grabbed the notes from Nerys. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mrs. Hughes. Do you want to come through?”
Josh caught her gaze as she guided the old lady to the exam room. “Thanks again, Doc. See you next week.”
She nodded, turning away as heat filled her cheeks. Patient, remember.
2
Having stopped off at the drug store to pick up the medication that the extremely pretty doctor had prescribed, Josh let Dai take him back to the office to fill in the paperwork. He was hopelessly late for the firehouse now, and didn’t suppose he even had a job there to interview for. He sank into the chair the other side of Dai’s desk and rubbed his hand around the stiches, and his mind wandered back to the woman with the long blonde hair, clear blue eyes, smooth skin, and an ample figure with curves in all the right places. Slim waist, round hips, and lips that almost shouted “kiss me”—
He broke off, angry for letting his mind go places it shouldn’t.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took the mug of coffee. “Thanks.”
“I really am sorry.”
“It’s fine. Accidents happen.”
He took a long drag on the coffee, relishing its taste. He needed that. “However, I’ve missed the interview at the fire station.”
“I rang Sam earlier to let him know you’d been held up with me. I’ll give him another call and tell him I’ll bring you over in half an hour or so. Sam’s a mate, he won’t mind.”
“Thanks.” Josh finished the papers, as Dai spoke rapid Welsh on the phone and slid them back across the desk. “I’m not sure how much I can do one-handed, but I’ll give it a good go.”
Dai nodded. “If need be, we can get you designing new stones for the ones that need replacing. Or you can do Ivor’s job.”
The door opened. “You wanted to see me,” Ivor said.
Dai looked at him and spoke in Welsh. Ivor replied, his voice rising.
Josh sat there not understanding a single word. He looked from one man to another before raising his hand ever so slightly.
Dai looked at him. “Yes?”
“It was an accident. My hand will heal and there is no real harm done.”
Dai scowled. “There could have been.”
“But there wasn’t. And I’m sure he won’t make that mistake again.”
Ivor nodded, saying something in Welsh. There was a long pause before Dai replied. The debate went back and forth for a few before Ivor nodded and left the office.
Dai stood and filed the papers. “I’ve given him a verbal warning. One more mistake and he’s out. Right, we’ve got some time to kill before meeting Sam, so let’s grab something to eat. We’ll go to The Swallow Falls. It has the best food in town.”
****
Josh followed Dai into the pub. He always found it amazing how all these pub-restaurants looked the same no matter where in the UK he was, and how nowhere else in the world could copy them exactly. The blonde doctor sat at a corner table, and Dai seemed to make a beeline for her. Were the two of them an item? Or involved somehow? She hadn’t worn a ring earlier, but that didn’t mean anything. And Dai sported a wedding band on his left hand.
“Mind if we join you, Doc? Geinor is on her way too.”
The doctor’s blue eyes sparkled in the light. “Not at all. I was just about to order.”
“Then let me pay. Call it a thank you for slotting us in like that earlier.”
“I was doing my job,” she protested half-heartedly, “but I’m not going to object to a bloke buying me dinner. So, thank you. I accept.”
Dai pointed to a chair. “Take a pew, Josh. And look at the menu, see what you fancy.”
Hiding his reaction to the innocent comment, Josh slid into a chair next to the doctor. Her perfume flooded his senses again as it had in her office earlier. Only now her golden hair hung gently over her shoulders, skimming her cheeks and her forehead, wrapping around her head like a halo.
“Doc, what can I get you?”
“It’s Jess out of the office, Dai, you know that. And I’ll have the chicken, chips, and a pot of tea, please.”
“Josh, what about you? And yes, I’m buying. Celebrate you coming to work for me. So name your poison.”
Josh studied the menu and picked something he could eat one-handed. He allowed a small smile as he spotted something on the menu his mom used to make. In the days when she was allowed into her own kitchen that is—which admittedly wasn’t very often now. “Shepherd’s pie and a glass of iced water, please.”
“Water?”
He nodded. “I don’t drink. It clouds the mind, makes your hands shake, and stops the stone from speaking.”
Dai grinned. “Nice come back.” He headed over to the bar to order.
Josh looked at the blonde doctor. “Hello again, Doc.”
She held out a hand. “It’s Jess,” she repeated. “How’s the hand?”
“Sore,” he said, grabbing her hand in his left one. Her palm was cool against his. “I picked up the meds you gave me. I nee
d to eat before taking them. Another reason for sticking to water, if I need one.”
“You don’t. A man who doesn’t booze twenty-four-seven is a rarity these days. And the only reason we recommend taking the meds with food is so they won’t unsettle your stomach.” She looked at him critically. “You look exhausted.”
“It’s been a long day. Well, long couple of days, actually. A fifteen-hour flight, followed by what should have been a forty-minute flight, but turned into a two-hour nightmare. And I’m not even going to start on the driving or the narrow roads. Or the tractors, come to that.”
Dai came over carrying a tray of drinks. “They’ll bring the food over.”
“A fifteen-hour flight from Scotland? It’s not that far, surely.” Jess frowned. “It doesn’t even take fifteen hours to drive up there.”
Josh shook his head, thinking fast. “Scotland?”
“You had a pronounced Scottish drawl at one point and said you were born in Scotland when I queried your accent.”
Josh could have hit himself for being stupid. “Ah. No, I didn’t fly from Scotland this time. I flew Oklahoma City to Heathrow. Then, I caught another plane from Heathrow to Cardiff and drove a rental car to here. I’ve been living in the States for the past twenty-five years or so, on and off.”
“That’s a big change, moving by here,” Dai said.
“Aye. So if I slip into an American accent that’ll be why. They canna ken a word ah say if ah speak any ootha way.”
Jess smiled. “Here we speak English for the most part. A few of the older generation speak nothing but Welsh. I speak both.”
A plump woman with curly red hair threw herself at Dai. She spoke Welsh as she hugged him.
Jess tilted her head. “That’s Geinor, his wife. She can speak English, but prefers to tell him off in Welsh.”
“Ah. But what did he do?”
“She found out from a neighbor about the accident at the building site rather than from Dai.”
Josh’s cheeks burned. “Does the whole town know?”
“Probably. If not now, they will by morning.”
The woman turned and hugged Josh enthusiastically. “You saved my Dai’s life. Thank you.”
“It was nothing,” he said, completely overcome with embarrassment.
Geinor sat down next to Dai.
Josh found himself wishing it was just him and Jess having dinner, which was ridiculous. They’d only just met. He wasn’t staying long, and he definitely didn’t need a woman in order to complicate his life even further. He’d done well enough on that front himself.
“…to stay?”
He glanced up to find Jess looking at him expectantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I asked if you had anywhere to stay.”
“Not yet.” The food arrived, and it smelled as good as it looked. He picked up his fork and frowned. “I’d intended to do that after I’d confirmed my job at the firehouse. I guess it’s a little late now, so probably a hotel or someplace similar for the few weeks that I’m going to be here.”
“A hotel will cost you an arm and a leg this time of year. My parents take in boarders and we have a spare room right now.”
Dai looked at her. “They’re away, and you’re living there on your own.”
“That is beside the point. I can live over the surgery until they get back. To be honest, there are thousands of single landladies out there who take in male boarders. You are making a mountain out of a molehill here. I’ll call them now in a minute.” Jess rolled her eyes in a way Josh found cute. “How long do you need the room for?”
“Six weeks to begin with.”
She pulled out her phone and dialed.
Josh took a few bites of his food and found it hard even eating left-handed. He pulled the boxes from his pocket and took both antibiotics and pain meds.
Jess glanced over at him, her Welsh turning into English. “Mam says she usually charges forty quid a week for bed and breakfast. Full board is fifty if you want the evening meal as well. They’ll be back at some point next week, so she’ll only charge you half for this week as you’ll be cooking for yourself. Unless you wanted me around to cook for you. But I warn you now, I’m a lousy cook.” She rolled her eyes at the phone and spoke Welsh into it.
Josh did the math quickly in his head, converting UK pounds to US dollars. Money wasn’t an issue, but that worked out in his head to less than what he’d expected to pay. And definitely a lot less than a hotel would charge, which would be more like seventy or eighty pounds a night, food not included. “I don’t mind cooking. The full board sounds great. Thank you.”
Jess nodded and carried on in Welsh. Her voice was really musical.
Josh remembered his grandfather telling him that they always said the language of heaven was Welsh. Josh privately thought that was purely because it’d take an eternity to learn it, and listening to the conversation he decided he was right. As always, thoughts of his grandfather speared grief and loss through him.
He ate quietly. He’d be gone in a few weeks. Did he even have that long before his past caught up with him?
He broke off. As far as he was concerned, the less time he dwelt on that subject, the better.
Jess put down the phone. “All sorted. I’m to take you over there and give you the spare key tonight.”
“They don’t need to speak to me?”
She shook her head. “No, they trust my judgment. Besides, Betws-y-Coed is a small town. It’s impossible to hide here. Everyone knows everything about everyone else.”
He inwardly grimaced at the word “hide”, and again at the small-town idea. He should have run to a big town or a city, like London or Johannesburg, or even a large hub town like Reading, which according to the Internet was the same size as Camp Bastion. Where no one would find him.
Ever.
But he knew it wasn’t possible. Even as the thought crossed his mind, the net would be closing around him, and once that happened…
“Mind if we join you?”
Josh looked up. A tall, clean-shaven man with neat black hair stood there, a heavily pregnant woman on his arm.
“Not at all, Sam,” Dai said. “Save us a trip.”
The man smiled and held out a hand. “You must be Josh.”
Jess laughed. “See? Small town.”
Josh offered his left hand back and smiled when the man switched and held out his left hand instead. “Aye.”
The man’s grip was firm. “Sam Jones. Watch manager at the fire station. How’s the hand?”
Josh glanced down at the bandage. “A little sore. It’s not going to stop me from working. I have those papers for you.”
Sam held up a hand as he sat down. “Tomorrow will do. Here’s your pager. You have six minutes to get to the station from wherever you are when it goes off. Dai’s had retainers on his staff before, so he knows how it works.”
Dai nodded. “You simply down tools, and either come and find me or leave a note on my desk and then come back once you’re done, assuming it isn’t after five in the evening.”
“We’re not a very busy station,” Sam added. “Maybe one fire a month, occasional cats up trees, cars off the road, and what have you. This time of year we get more climbers lost or stuck in the national park than we can shake a stick at. Generally speaking, mountain rescue goes out to those, but we give back up when needed. Sounds like a lot of shouts, but believe me, it isn’t.”
Josh studied him. “Hence the retained part of the job title.”
“Yes—you might not see any action bar training during the weeks you’re with us. Training is Thursday nights. Seven on the dot. Don’t be late. But I’ll see you at about half-past ten tomorrow, if Dai can spare you for a few minutes to file the papers.”
After the meal ended, Josh followed Jess in his car to her parents’ house. He knew driving on the ”wrong side of the road” would have its advantages. He wasn’t changing gears with his right hand the way he would at home. The
y pulled up in front of a cute, ivy-covered, two-story cottage, set in a quiet part of the town. A neat front garden set to the left, with a parking area big enough for three cars on the right. It almost cried out home to him. The sort of house he’d craved growing up. But his father’s job meant they only ever lived in mansions behind locked gates with security guards on all the doors. Now, of course, they lined the corridors, never mind the snipers on the roof tops.
He parked on the gravel driveway and hit the button to open the trunk. By the time he’d exited the car, Jess had already taken his bags over to the front door.
“I can carry them,” he protested.
“I don’t want to have to re-stitch your hand tonight,” she said. Her smile was amazing. “I’ll take these up to your room before I give you the guided tour. Once I’ve done that, I’ll pack a bag and be out of your hair.”
“Please don’t leave on my account. I can find somewhere else to stay.”
“You’re not pushing me out. As soon as my parents return from their holiday, I’ll move back in. I’m doing this for your reputation as much as my own. Besides, it makes more sense for me to live over the surgery as I’m on call most nights for the next week.”
Ten minutes later, Josh had the house to himself. He fell straight into bed, but sleep eluded him. On the wall opposite the bed hung a photograph of a waterfall. The frame told him it was Swallow Falls. Water cascaded over the rocks, and he could almost hear the musical rushing and splashing sounds.
Across the photo lay the words to Psalm 42:7: Deep calls to deep in the roar of Your waterfalls; all Your waves and breakers have swept over me.
He knew how it continued, and the remainder of the psalm ran through his mind, taunting him.
He turned onto his side so he couldn’t see the picture. He closed his eyes. His mind filled with images and sounds. Singing and loud music turned into sirens, the wind howling like an express train as the building shook and disintegrated around him.
Josh jerked awake, shaking and crying. Anger at God and himself consumed him and he threw himself to the floor, doing one-handed push-ups until his fear and rage subsided.