by Leah Martyn
Out of the car, she took a moment to look up at the sky. It was the same night sky she’d been seeing since she was a child, the same stars. But tonight she noticed them in a way she never had before. The Milky Way was its usual wash of grey-white light, peppered with twinkling stars. But tonight, as she watched, one lone star shot across the heavens, leaving a glittering trail of light before it disappeared.
‘Stargazing?’ Declan’s deep voice was husky behind her.
‘Oh—’ Emma spun round, giving a jagged half-laugh. He was standing on the sheltered front porch. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’
‘Saw your headlights. Coming in?’
‘Mmm.’ Suddenly, for no reason at all, anticipation was a sweet ache in her chest, a flutter in her breathing. She held her vacuum jug of soup tightly and followed him inside.
The cabin was open-plan and modern with the lounge area and kitchen melded into one living space. ‘Oh, good,’ Emma said lightly. ‘You’ve got the fire going.’
‘Glass of wine?’ Declan offered as they moved across the timber floor to the kitchen. ‘I have a nice local red.’
‘OK, thanks.’ Emma placed her soup on the counter top. ‘You should be comfortable here.’
Declan didn’t comment. Instead, he took up the wine he’d left breathing and poured two glasses. He handed one to Emma, unable to stop himself gazing at her with an intensity that made his heart stall for a second and then pick up speed. She was wearing jeans that clung to her legs and outlined a pert little backside. Her top was a frilly button-up shirt, the neckline open just enough to expose a hint of cleavage. Her hair had a just-washed, just-brushed shine about it and when their gazes met and she smiled at him he felt a jolt to every one of his senses. Hell. How was he going to get through the evening without wanting to…?
‘What?’ Emma raised a quick brow.
He shrugged, breaking eye contact quickly. ‘I guess we should drink to the future of our partnership.’
Emma’s mind went blank. They seemed to have travelled half a lifetime in a few days. Even this morning, she’d woken with a start, wondering whether she’d dreamed it all—that she actually had a partner for the practice, someone to rely on, to confer with—to trust. ‘I guess we should.’ She gave a tinny laugh to disguise the sudden attack of nerves. Lifting her glass to his, she echoed, ‘To our partnership.’
‘What kind of soup did you bring?’ Declan cringed at the banality of his conversation. But his brain felt like shredded cheese.
‘Minestrone.’
‘A meal in itself.’ He sent her a crooked grin. ‘I put some herb bread in the oven to warm when I knew you were bringing soup.’
Emma savoured another mouthful of the full-bodied wine. ‘You know about food, then?’
He lifted a shoulder modestly. ‘I went along to the farmers’ market this morning. I thought I might have seen you there.’
Emma blinked rapidly. ‘I used to go when I had time to cook.’
‘The produce is amazing,’ Declan said, indicating they should take their wine through to the lounge area. ‘I couldn’t stop buying stuff.’
Emma chuckled. ‘And I’ll bet the stall-holders couldn’t wait to sell you stuff._ The whole town will know who you are by now.’
‘They will?’ He looked startled.
‘And that you’re living here and fending for yourself.’
He groaned. ‘It won’t be daily casseroles at the surgery, will it?’
‘Not just casseroles.’ Emma sent him an innocent wide-eyed look and curled herself into the big squishy armchair. ‘There’ll possibly be apple pies as well. Bendemere will want you to feel at home here.’
‘I think I’m beginning to already.’ He’d taken his place on the sofa opposite her. ‘By the way, I released young Ashleigh this afternoon.’
‘Any problems?’
He was about to ask if she’d expected any. Except he’d seen the flash of worry in her eyes. ‘None at all,’ he elaborated. ‘And I have Aaron and Renee coming in for a chat tomorrow.’
Emma felt a flood of relief. If he’d already got on first name terms with the Maines, then he must have at least listened to her concerns and trod softly. ‘They’re not bad parents. They’re just—’
‘Young?’ Declan gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll be gentle with them, Emma, but I promise I’ll get through to them, whatever it takes.’
Well, she guessed she couldn’t ask for more than that. She took another mouthful of wine and then leaned forward to place her glass on the coffee table between them. In a second her thoughts began racing like an out of control juggernaut. She’d come to ask Declan something. She tried to think of the best way to say what she’d come to say but, in the end, there was really no lead-in for the questions she needed answers to. ‘Declan—’ she paused and wet her lips, tasting the sweetness of the wine ‘—I need to run something past you.’
‘About the practice?’
‘No.’ Emma swallowed hard. ‘I want to know the extent of your involvement with my father.’
‘I thought I’d told you.’
Not nearly enough. ‘You mentioned Dad was your boss when you were at John Bosco’s and that he took a special interest in you. Was there a reason for that? I mean, there must have been a large group of interns. Why did he single you out?’
So here it was, sooner than he would have liked. Deep down, he’d known someone as astute as Emma would not have been content with the glib kind of scenario he’d painted about knowing her father. Very deliberately, he took a mouthful of his wine and placed his glass next to hers on the coffee table. His jaw tightened. ‘I was about ten, I suppose, when your dad started visiting our home.’
Emma stared at him uncertainly. ‘Was someone ill?’
He shook his head. ‘My mother was a nurse. She and Andrew worked together in Casualty at the Prince Alfred in Melbourne.’
Oh. She hadn’t expected that. She quickly put dates and ages together in her head. Dad would have been married to Mum by then…‘What were the circumstances? How did–—why did Dad become involved with your family?’
He looked at her steadily. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this, Emma?’
Emma had no idea where their conversation was leading and her stomach was churning. But she knew she needed answers. ‘Yes.’
He rocked his hand as if say, so be it. ‘My parents, me and my two younger sisters were just a regular little family living in the suburbs of Melbourne when my dad was killed in an industrial accident. Suddenly our lives were turned upside down. Overnight, Mum was a sole supporting parent with three kids to feed and educate. She had no choice than to switch from part-time to full-time work.’
Emma shook her head. She’d been indulged as a child and had wanted for nothing in a material sense. ‘It must have been very hard on you all.’
‘No, not hard, exactly.’ His mouth lifted in a token smile. ‘Just different. I know I had to grow up pretty fast. Erinn and Katie were only little girls.’
‘You had to be the man of the house.’
He shrugged. ‘Mum worked an early shift. We went to a neighbour’s until it was time for school and Mum was always home for us in the afternoon. We missed Dad, of course, were bewildered for a time. But, after a while, kids being kids, we accepted our lives as they were, changes and all. But I guess Mum had worries she never told us about. Well, how could she?’ The muscle in his jaw kicked for a second. ‘It was about that time Andrew began calling round. Mum merely said he was a friend from the hospital. Sometimes he brought groceries, had a kick of the football with me. He seemed to enjoy being around us kids. Told us he had a little girl called Emma.’
Emma licked lips that seemed bone-dry. ‘H-how long did he keep coming to see you? Weeks, months…?’
‘Couple of months, I guess. I was a kid, Emma. Time didn’t mean much. I just remember when he stopped coming. I asked Mum about it. She said he’d left the PA and gone to another hospital. He wouldn’t be able to see us any m
ore.’
Emma lifted eyes that were wide and anguished. ‘Do you think they were…involved?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said evenly.
She swallowed hard, as if unable to voice the questions crowding her head. Had Dad fallen in love with—? ‘What was your mother’s name?’ she asked.
‘Anne,’ Declan said quietly. ‘She was called Anne. She died a couple of years ago.’
Anne O’Malley. The name sat frozen inside Emma, along with a block of emotions. She’d never heard her father refer to anyone by that name. Never. But obviously Dad’s involvement with Declan hadn’t ended there. ‘Was it pure chance you and Dad met up again when you were an intern?’
‘It seemed like chance. Perhaps he’d simply seen my name on the intake list. I do know he was extremely interested in my welfare. But he was discreet. I never felt I was treated differently than the others. But I knew I could go to him with any problems.’
Emma smiled sadly. ‘That sounds like Dad. But you mentioned wanting to chuck in medicine. Why was that?’
‘My mother had a stroke…’ Declan’s words were drawn out softly, seeming to echo in the close confines of the cabin. ‘She was only forty-eight. Both Erinn and Katie were at Uni. Money was tight. I figured I could get a real job, start bringing in the big bucks.’ He rubbed at his jaw. ‘God only knows what I thought I was capable of doing. When I told Andrew, he was shocked. He told me I had the potential to make a fine doctor.’ Declan gave a rough laugh. ‘At the time I remember wondering how potential was going to pay the bills. Mum’s rehab was dragging on and I knew it would be a long time before she could work again—if ever. Then, suddenly out of the blue, she was whisked off to a private clinic with the latest methods. I gathered Andrew had arranged it. I have the feeling he paid for it as well.’
Emma just nodded. If she’d had any doubts before, then she had none now. Dad had fallen in love with Anne but he’d stayed with his wife. For my sake? she wondered now. Or maybe Anne had sent him away so as not to break up his family. They’d never know. Emma was not about to ask her own mother. Ever. Sometimes, it was better not to revisit old wounds, old memories.
Somehow, they got through the rest of the evening. They ate their soup and the warmed herb bread and made desultory conversation.
‘What made you decide to go for a jog?’ Emma asked later, washing the platter they’d used for the local cheeses and crisp slices of apple they’d eaten instead of dessert.
‘I went out on to the porch, took one look at the paddock and all that space and thought, why not?’
‘And it was good?’
‘It was fine,’ he hedged. He didn’t tell her he’d begun to ache all over. He felt almost relieved when Emma glanced surreptitiously at her watch. The evening had strained them both. ‘Cup of tea before you go?’
‘No, I won’t, thanks,’ she said almost hurriedly. ‘I’ll just grab my Thermos jug.’
Declan managed a quick smile. ‘I’ll walk you out.’
‘Thanks.’ Emma’s return smile was edged with vulnerability.
On the lighted porch, Declan paused and looked down at her. ‘Are you OK?’
‘You’ve given me a bit to think about.’
His mouth drew in. She’d sounded shaky and the eyes that lifted briefly to his were guarded and shadowed. Almost in slow motion, he took the Thermos from her unprotesting hands and set it on the outdoor table. ‘Come here…’
Emma fought a losing battle as he gathered her close. Every caressing detail of his hands was conveyed to her through the thin stuff of her shirt, lapping at the edge of her resistance. Confusion and need struggled for supremacy.
‘Half-truths wouldn’t have done,’ he said quietly.
‘I know,’ she said huskily, not trusting her voice too far.
Declan frowned down at her. A tiny chill wind had come in a flurry behind her, separating tendrils of her hair from around her face and fluffing them out. For an instant, she’d looked so young. And so alone.
‘It’s just—I don’t quite know where I fit any more,’ she said quietly, an admission that was heightened by her evident uncertainty about what to think.
‘You were the sunshine of your father’s life, Emma. Hell, you must know he’d have moved mountains for you?’
Her mouth trembled. ‘Perhaps he was just overcompensating. Perhaps he felt guilty that he’d rather have been with Anne and all of you.’
Declan swore under his breath. ‘That’s rubbish. Did you ever feel second-best?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s been a bit of a revelation all the same. About Dad.’
‘With hindsight, would you have rather stayed in ignorance?’
Letting her breath go on a heavy sigh, she stepped away from the weight of his hands. ‘I honestly don’t know.’
Chapter Four
DECLAN immersed himself in his Monday morning surgery. It was better he did, he thought, grabbing a quick coffee between patients. Anything to keep his mind from flipping back to last night and Emma’s reaction to what he’d told her. Now he wondered whether he’d done the right thing in telling her anything.
He could have pleaded ignorance. But secrets had a way of surfacing when you least expected. And, in reality, did any of it matter now? Emma seemed to think so. He sighed and reached for his phone when it rang softly. ‘Yes, Moira?’
‘Your eleven o’clock’s cancelled, Declan, and the Maines are here already.’
‘OK, I’ll come out. And don’t forget I’m going to need extra time for this consult, Moira.’
‘All taken care of.’
‘Thanks.’ He replaced the handpiece and got to his feet. Moments later, he was ushering Aaron and Renee Maine through to his office. When they were settled, he said, ‘Just for the record, you’re not on trial here. But obviously I need your input if we’re to sort something out for Ashleigh. Do you have any idea what may have triggered her asthma this time?’
‘She had a cold.’ Renee kept her gaze averted. ‘Sometimes, no matter what we do, she can’t seem to throw it off.’
‘I know my smoking doesn’t help…’ Aaron came in. He paused and chewed his bottom lip. ‘Renee and me have talked a bit—’ He stretched out his hands, his knuckles white as he clasped them across his jeans-clad thighs. ‘I reckon I have to quit. And no mucking about this time.’
‘Well, that’s very good news.’ Declan leaned forward earnestly. ‘There’s a great deal of help I can give you for that.’
Aaron shook his head. ‘I’m gonna chuck out my cigarettes—go cold turkey.’
‘That’s pretty drastic, Aaron.’ Declan was cautious. ‘And I’d like to give you a physical before you start, if that’s OK?’
‘Yeah, whatever. I just want the poison outta me system.’
‘Dr O’Malley—’ Renee paused, nervously winding a strand of dark hair around her finger ‘—could you explain just what happens when Ashleigh gets an attack? This time, it scared us spitless. We had to call the ambulance.’
‘Sure.’ Declan swung round to the bank of filing cabinets behind him. ‘I actually put together some reading matter for you.’ He pulled out a file and opened it. ‘There’s a chart here that will give you an idea of the body’s reaction during an asthma attack.’ So saying, he flipped out the chart and placed it in front of the young parents. ‘As you know, asthma affects the lungs,’ he explained. ‘When someone experiences an attack the tubes begin narrowing, making breathing difficult.’
‘Oh—that’s the wheezing sound Ashleigh makes?’ Renee looked at Declan fearfully, fisting her hands and crossing them over her chest.
Almost an hour later, during which Declan had drawn diagrams for the parents and explained in depth the crippling effects of an asthma attack on their daughter, Renee said, ‘I feel like we’re really getting somewhere at last. And we’ll need to go to the physio’s appointment with Ashleigh, then?’
‘It’s essential.’ Declan was unequivocal. ‘One of you should be there and lea
rn the breathing technique with your daughter.’
‘We can do that.’ Renee’s mouth trembled into a shaky smile. ‘We’re ever so grateful to you for explaining everything. Thank you, Dr O’Malley.’
‘Yeah. Thanks, Doc,’ Aaron said awkwardly. ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘Ashleigh’s a great kid,’ Declan complimented them. ‘Take care of her.’
‘Oh, we will.’ Renee linked hands with her husband and they stood together.
‘Er—when do you want me for this medical, Doc?’ Aaron’s chin came up and his shoulders straightened as if he’d at last taken charge of his life and his family.
‘The sooner, the better.’ Declan opened the door of his consulting room for them. ‘Sort out something with Moira as you leave.’
Emma was in some kind of shock. She knew the signs and she also knew it would pass. But finding out about Dad…Clicking off her computer, she got to her feet. Possibly, it had had the same impact as finding out as an adult that you were adopted.
But she and Declan had got through the first week as practice partners without any major dramas. She should be glad about that. Not that they’d seen much of one another. Well, not for long enough to have talked about anything other than the patients. Now it was Friday and they were about to begin their first staff meeting. Moira had been invited to attend.
‘Let’s keep this as brief and to the point as we can,’ Declan suggested as they sat at the table in the staffroom.
‘I don’t have any complaints,’ Moira said in her forthright style.
‘How’s Jodi shaping up?’ Declan flipped his pen back and forth between his fingers.
‘Very well,’ Emma came in. ‘She’s caught on exactly to what we need.’
‘Good.’ Declan turned to face Emma. ‘Libby still OK to start with us on Monday?’
‘She can do a four-day week,’ Emma said. ‘If we’re happy to work around that?’
‘Fine with me,’ Declan said economically.
‘Libby’s coming in for some orientation tomorrow,’ Emma relayed. ‘She and I will go over things so she’s up to speed and then she’ll start officially on Monday—if that’s all right with you, Declan?’