by Leah Martyn
For a second Declan considered a quick consult with Emma. But she had enough on her plate. He could handle this. He leaned forward, speed-reading the patient notes.
The lady was sixty-one but there was nothing leaping out at him to warrant extra caution. He raised his gaze, asking, ‘Is there a reason why you can’t sleep, Carolyn?’
‘I’ve a difficult family life. Emma knows about it—’
‘I see. Suppose you tell me about it as well and see how we go?’
Carolyn lifted her shoulders in a long sigh. ‘My husband, Nev, and I are bringing up our three grandchildren. Their ages range from seven to ten.’
‘Hard going, then,’ Declan surmised gently. ‘What circumstances caused this to come about?’
Carolyn gave a weary shrug. ‘The whole town knows about it. Our son was a soldier serving overseas. He was killed by a roadside mine. Our daughter-in-law, Tracey, took off and then got in with the wrong crowd. Started seeing someone else. She was always a bit flighty.’
Declan raised his eyebrows at the old-fashioned word.
‘She’s with this new boyfriend now. We’ve heard they’re into drugs. I don’t understand how she could just dump her children…’
Declan’s caring instincts went out to his patient. But, on the other hand, there were strategies she could try that might induce natural sleep—
‘The children are still unsettled, especially at night,’ Carolyn said, interrupting his train of thought. ‘I just can’t get off to sleep and then I’m useless the next day.’ She paused and blinked. ‘I’ve really had enough…’
So, crisis time then. Declan thought quickly. As a general rule, sleeping pills were prescribed in small doses and only for a limited time-span. But his patient sounded desperate—desperate enough to…He got to his feet. ‘Carolyn, excuse me a moment. I’ve been out of the country for a while. I’ll just need to recheck on dosage and so on.’
Declan came out of his office the same time as Emma emerged from hers. Her brows flicked in question. ‘Finished for the day?’
‘Not quite.’ He accompanied her along to reception. ‘Actually, I wanted a word about a patient, Carolyn Jones.’
‘The family have ongoing problems,’ Emma said quietly.
‘I gathered that.’ Declan backed himself against the counter and folded his arms. ‘Carolyn wants to go back on her sleeping pills. I wondered about her stability.’
‘You’re asking me whether she’s liable to overdose on them?’
‘Just double-checking.’
‘She cares too much about those children to do anything silly,’ Emma said.
‘Quite. But still—’
‘The sleepers Carolyn takes are quite mild,’ Emma cut in. ‘They don’t produce a hangover effect next day.’
A beat of silence until Declan broke it. ‘You realize more than two weeks on those things and she’s hooked?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Emma almost ground her teeth. Declan O’Malley needed to stand outside the rarefied air of his theatre suite and realize family practice was about people not protocol. ‘If you’re so concerned, make it a stopgap solution. In the meantime, I’ll try to figure out some other way to help her. But if Carolyn can’t get sleep, she’ll go dotty. Then where will the family be?’ she pointed out.
‘OK…’ Declan raised a two-fingered salute in a peace sign. This obviously wasn’t the time to start a heated discussion with the lady doctor. ‘I’ll go ahead and write her script.’ He took a couple of steps forward and then wheeled back. ‘Are you around for a while?’
Emma felt the nerves in her stomach tighten. What was on his mind now? ‘My last patient just left so I’ll be here.’
‘Good.’ Declan’s eyes glinted briefly. ‘I’m sorry to push it, but we do need to talk.’
Emma twitched her shoulders into a barely perceptible shrug and watched him go back to his consulting room. Then she went into the work space behind reception and began slotting files back into place.
Moira joined her. With the information Emma had discreetly passed on to her about the new doctor, Moira’s eyes were rife with speculation. ‘Do you think he’ll stay?’
At the thought, Emma managed a dry smile. ‘I haven’t offered him a job yet. And, even if I did, I expect Dr O’Malley has far more exciting challenges than working in a run-down practice in a country town.’
‘You never know.’ Moira’s voice held a bracing optimism.
No, you never did. Thinking of her father’s untimely death, Emma could only silently agree. ‘Moira, it’s way past your home time. I’ll lock up.’
‘If you’re sure?’ Moira looked uncertain.
‘I’ll be fine. Go.’ Emma flapped a hand. ‘And have a nice evening.’
There was still no sign of Declan some ten minutes later. Carolyn was obviously still with him. Perhaps it would help her to talk to a different practitioner, Emma thought philosophically. Heaven knew, she herself had no extra time to allot to her needy patients. Well, even if Declan helped only one of her patients in the short time he was here, it was a plus. Deciding there was no use hanging round in reception, she went through to the staffroom.
Declan found her there. He gave a rat-a-tat on the door with the back of his hand to alert her.
Emma’s head came up, her eyes blinking against his sudden appearance. ‘Hi…’
‘Hi, yourself.’ One side of his mouth inched upward and a crease formed in his cheek as he smiled. ‘I smelled coffee.’
Emma averted her gaze to blot out the all-male physical imprint.
In a couple of long strides, he’d crossed the room to her.
Emma lifted the percolator, her fingers as unsteady as her heartbeat. ‘Milk and sugar’s there on the tray.’
‘Thanks.’ He took the coffee, added a dollop of milk and lifted the cup to his mouth. ‘Could we sit for a minute?’
Emma indicated the old kitchen table that been in the staff room for as long as she could remember. ‘You were a long time with Carolyn. Everything OK?’ she asked as they took their places on opposite sides of the table.
‘I hope so.’ Declan’s long fingers spanned his coffee mug and he said thoughtfully, ‘We talked a bit and I suggested a few things. Some tai chi, a good solid walk in the early evening could help her relax enough to induce a natural sleep. Even a leisurely swim would be beneficial.’
‘The school has a pool but it’s not open to the public.’
‘Pity. She’s obviously quite tense.’
‘And it’s a situation that’s happening more and more,’ Emma agreed. ‘Grandparents taking on the caring role for their grandchildren. Even here in this small community, there are families in similar circumstances as the Joneses.’
Declan took a long mouthful of his coffee. ‘Does Bendemere have anything like a support group for them? Somewhere they can air their fears and worries in a safe environment?’
Emma resisted the urge to shriek. ‘This isn’t the city, Dr O’Malley. We’re a bit short of facilitators and psychologists who could lead a group.’
‘But a doctor could.’
Was he serious? ‘Don’t you think I would if I could?’ she flashed. ‘I’m so stretched now, I—’
‘No, Emma, you’re misunderstanding me.’ His look was guarded and cool. ‘I meant me—I could help.’
‘You?’ Emma huffed her disbelief. She wasn’t understanding any of this. ‘Are you saying you want to stay on here?’
‘You need a practice partner, don’t you?’
‘But you know nothing about the place!’ Emma’s thoughts were spinning. ‘Nothing about the viability of the practice. Nothing about me.’
He stared at her for a long moment. ‘I know you’re Andrew’s daughter.’
‘And you’d make a life-changing decision on the basis of that?’ Emma’s voice had a husky edge of disquiet.
Oh, hell. He was doing this all wrong. No wonder she was confused. He’d meant to lead up to things gently and objectively, expla
in himself, choose his words carefully. But just getting his head around Emma’s crippling workload, the plight of Carolyn Jones and others like her had spurred him on to get matters sorted and quickly.
‘Emma—’ He paused significantly. ‘I didn’t just come here to offer my condolences. There’s another reason why I’m here in Bendemere.’
Emma tried to grasp the significance of his words. ‘Perhaps you’d better explain.’
Declan watched as she drew herself up stiffly, almost as if she were gathering invisible armour around her. He knew what he was about to tell her would come as a shock, maybe even wound her deeply. But he had to do it. ‘Your father contacted me shortly before his death. He offered to sell me his share of the practice. I’m here to arrange payment and finalise the details of our partnership.’
Emma’s mouth fell open and then snapped shut. She clutched the edge of the table for support, becoming aware of her heart thrashing to a sickening rhythm inside her chest. ‘I don’t believe Dad would have done something like that.’
‘I have a letter of confirmation from your father and the legal documents.’
‘Dad wouldn’t have just thrust someone on me. Someone I didn’t even know!’ She felt the pitch of her anger and emotion rising and didn’t care. ‘And I don’t have to accept your money, Dr O’Malley, nor do I have to take you on as my practice partner.’
Declan’s gaze narrowed on her flushed face, the angry tilt of her small chin. Damn! He hadn’t reckoned on any of this. ‘It was what your father wanted, Emma.’
Emma gave a hard little laugh. ‘Emotional blackmail will get you absolutely nowhere, Dr O’Malley.’
‘Please!’ With a reflex action Declan’s head shot up, his vivid blue gaze striking an arc across the space between them. ‘Give me a little credit. I realize this has come as a shock to you. And I’m sorry. I’d hoped Andrew might have given you some idea of what he wanted, paved the way a bit, but obviously time ran out on him. But we can’t leave things here, Emma. We really can’t.’ His mouth compressed briefly. ‘I suggest we take a break and let things settle a bit. I’m staying at the Heritage Hotel. We could link up there later this evening and talk further. Dinner around seven. Does that suit you?’
‘Fine,’ Emma responded bluntly. It seemed she had no choice in the matter.
‘Let’s meet at the bar, then.’ Declan grabbed at the grudging acceptance.
Chapter Two
EMMA hitched up her little shoulder bag and determinedly pushed open the heavy plate glass door of the restaurant. She loved this place. As it was winter, the lovely old fireplace was lit, sending out warmth and flickering patterns to the wood-panelled walls. The atmosphere was charming and tonight was the first time she’d come here since…Her teeth caught on her lower lip. She and Dad had come here often. The Sunday lunch at the Heritage was legendary.
But this evening her dinner companion was someone far different than her father.
Heart thrumming, Emma made her way along the parquet flooring towards the bar. Declan was there already. She saw him at once, his distinctive dark head turning automatically, almost as if he’d sensed her approach. A shower of tingles began at the base of her backbone, spiralling upwards and engulfing her. She swallowed. He was wearing dark jeans and an oatmeal-coloured sweater that looked soft and cuddly. Oh, get real, Emma! Cuddles and Declan O’Malley were about as compatible as oil and water.
‘Hello again.’ Declan nodded almost formally. And blinked. Wow! Gone was the harassed-looking medico. Emma Armitage could have sauntered in from the catwalk. She was wearing black leggings and a long-sleeved, long-line silver-grey T-shirt, a huge silky scarf in a swirl of multicolour around her throat. And knee-high boots. ‘You look amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ Her shrug was so slight he hardly saw it. ‘I love your outfit too.’
So, the lady did have a sense of humour after all. A quirky one at that. Declan’s grin unfolded lazily, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘We seem to have that sorted, so let’s try to enjoy our evening, shall we? Would you like something to drink?’
In a leggy, graceful movement, Emma hitched herself up on to one of the high bar stools. ‘A glass of the house red would be nice, thanks.’
For a while they talked generalities and then Declan glanced at his watch. ‘I reserved us a table. Shall we go through?’
‘It’s rather crowded for a week night,’ Emma said stiltedly as they took their places in the restaurant adjoining the bar.
‘I’ve been quite taken with the town,’ Declan rejoined. ‘Tell me a bit about its history.’
Emma did her best to comply and it wasn’t until they’d come to the end of their meal and were sitting over coffee she said pointedly, ‘It’s been a long day, could we wind things up so we can both get on about our business?’
‘OK, then.’ Declan’s moody blue eyes were fixed unflinchingly on hers. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. About six months ago I received a letter from your father telling me about his deterioration in health.’
For a few seconds Emma stared at him in numb disbelief. ‘Dad told you and he didn’t tell me? Why? I was his daughter, for heaven’s sake.’
Declan could hardly bear to watch her grief. ‘I know it sounds an old chestnut, Emma,’ he said gently, ‘but perhaps he didn’t want to upset you any further than you had been. You had other things going on in your life, didn’t you?’
Emma’s face was tightly controlled. ‘What did Dad tell you about that?’
‘Almost nothing—just that you’d had a few personal problems.’
Like mopping up the emotional fallout after her rat of a fiancé had dumped her for her best friend…
‘And that you’d come back to work in the practice,’ Declan finished diplomatically.
Emma curled her hands into a tight knot on her lap. ‘What did he tell you about his health? That he had only a short time to live?’
Declan’s frown deepened. ‘Nothing like that. But, from what he told me, I drew my own conclusions. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I, myself, was in somewhat of a personal crisis at the time, I’d have come back to Australia to see Andrew immediately. Instead, I called him. He was concerned for you, for the future of the practice if the worst happened. We talked at length. It was then he offered to sell me his half of the practice.’
‘I see.’ Emma swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. But she understood now why her father hadn’t told her anything about his plans. He would have had to reveal the uncertain state of his health. So instead he’d trusted Declan O’Malley to set things right. But did that mean she had to accept him as her partner? She didn’t think so. ‘I’m sure Dad wouldn’t have wanted you interfering in my life.’
‘That’s not what Andrew had in mind, Emma.’
‘So, you’re here as some kind of…white knight?’ she grated bitterly.
‘I’m here because I want to be here,’ Declan said simply. ‘Because it seems like a worthwhile thing to do. You need a partner. I need a job. Isn’t that the truth of it?’
She looked at him warily. ‘Why do you need a job? You obviously have medical qualifications beyond the norm. Career-wise, the world should be your playground. Why aren’t you working in your chosen discipline somewhere?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘There’s plenty of coffee in the pot,’ Emma countered. ‘And we’re quite private here.’
Declan felt the familiar grind in his guts at the thought of rehashing everything.
At his continued silence, something like resentment stirred in Emma and she couldn’t let go of it. ‘Dr O’Malley, if you’ve ideas of entering into partnership with me, then I need to know what I’m getting. That’s only fair, isn’t it?’
He took a long breath and let it go. ‘My surgical career is, to all intents and purposes, finished. I can’t operate any longer.’
Faint shock widened Emma’s eyes. How awful. She knew only too well what it was like to have your world collapse wit
h no redress possible. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’ The words escaped mechanically from his lips.
And that was it? Emma took in the sudden tight set of his neck and shoulders. He had to know she needed more information. Much more than the bald statement he’d offered. She felt about for the right words to help him. But in the end it was a simple, softly spoken, ‘What happened?’
Declan rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘After I’d completed my general surgery training, I decided to go ahead and specialize in orthopaedics.’ His blue eyes shone for a moment. ‘On a good day when everything in the OR goes right and you know it’s your skill that’s enabling a patient to regain their mobility, their normal life, and in some instances their whole livelihood…it’s empowering and humbling all rolled into one.’
‘Yes, I imagine it is,’ Emma said, but she had the feeling he had hardly heard.
‘I was fortunate enough to be accepted at St Mary’s in Edinburgh.’
Emma’s eyes widened. ‘Their training programme is legendary. I believe they take only the brightest and best.’
‘I was lucky,’ he said modestly.
Hardly. Obviously, he was seriously gifted. Which fact made Declan O’Malley’s reasons for opting to come in as her partner in a country practice odd indeed, she thought, noticing he’d hadn’t touched his coffee. Instead, he’d spanned his fingers around the cup, holding on to it like some kind of lifeline.
‘After a long stint in Scotland, I’d decided to head back home. I was still finalizing dates when I had a call from an Aussie mate. He was coming over for a holiday in the UK, beginning in Scotland. I postponed my plans and Jack and I bought a couple of motorbikes.’
‘Fuel-wise cheaper than cars, I guess,’ was Emma’s only comment.
‘Jack and I found a couple of high-powered beauties for sale locally. Those bikes took us everywhere. Life was sweet—until we had the accident.’
Emma winced and she automatically put her hand to her heart. ‘How?’
He gave a grim smile. ‘A foggy afternoon, an unfamiliar road. A bit too much speed. And a truck that came out of nowhere. Jack received a broken leg. I was somewhat more compromised. I ended up with lumbar injuries.’ He expanded on the statement with technical language, ending with, ‘The outcome was partial paralysis in my left leg.’ He grimaced as if the memory was still fresh.