Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2

by Various Authors

  Meeting Gertie’s gaze, seeing the understanding in her eyes, he nodded. ‘If it’s in my power, Gertie, I shall do all I can to make sure Chloe’s future is a happy one.’

  ‘A quick word with everyone if I may,’ Nick announced, standing in the staffroom doorway at the end of a busy Friday.

  Oliver had left the surgery some while ago to answer an emergency call from the lifeguards to attend an injured tourist on the beach, so Chloe sat next to Lauren. She’d been looking forward to heading home as soon as the midwifery meeting was over, but had been delayed with Rachel Kenner. The girl had needed reassurance and Chloe was trying to see her as often as necessary to give support and advice. Her father was busy with arrangements for the annual remembrance service in August, when the town gathered by the lighthouse in memory of the victims of the storm that had claimed so many lives, Nick’s father and brother and Kate’s husband James among them.

  Chloe was meant to be joining Oliver on the beach for a picnic supper. Given that she had been out with Lauren and Vicky yesterday evening, and today had been so hectic, she had hardly drawn breath, much less spoken with Oliver, she was more than eager to see him. Their phone conversation last night had been brief. She had been late home and sleepy, while he had sounded distracted.

  ‘As you know,’ Nick said, his words diverting her from her thoughts, ‘I went to France with the twinning committee last weekend. It was a successful visit and things are moving on apace. It should be an excellent venture for Penhally, especially for tourism and business connections. For our part, Dr Gabriel Devereux will be joining us in the practice for a year, and although he won’t be able to begin work until autumn, he is coming over shortly for a couple of days to look around. I hope everyone will make him welcome.’

  There was some general muttering, but it was one of the practice nurses, Gemma Johnson, who spoke up. ‘Have you met him? Does he speak English?’

  ‘His English is perfect—he did some of his training in London—and from all I’ve heard, he’s a highly respected doctor,’ Nick confirmed.

  His gaze swept the room. Chloe noted how he looked longest at Kate, a frown creasing his brow, the shadows in his eyes suggesting he was still having problems coming to terms with the enormity of the news about her son Jeremiah. His son, as it turned out. Chloe wished for a happy ending for them all.

  ‘Dr Devereux will stay with me on this visit, but I’ve agreed to help him find somewhere suitable to rent. I know Oliver has been comfortable in the flat in Bridge Street, but that was for the short term,’ Nick continued, and the reality that Oliver’s stay in Penhally might be over all too soon sent a shock wave of alarm and disappointment through Chloe’s body. ‘If anyone has any ideas, I’d welcome them.’

  Lost in thought, Chloe was only half listening as Lauren spoke up. ‘What about the Manor House?’

  ‘Isn’t that already occupied?’ Nick queried.

  ‘Only until the end of August,’ Lauren confirmed. ‘But the Bartons are going to be away in South Africa for another two years at least. I’ve heard nothing about new tenants—and given that I live in the Gatehouse Cottage at the end of the drive and have the spare keys, the solicitor always keeps me informed and asks me to check on things. The house is comfortable, furnished, not too grand, and conveniently situated. I’m sure the Bartons would welcome renting it to someone on a year-long let. Especially someone recommended by and attached to the surgery. They are more interested in the quality of the tenant and keeping the house occupied and in good order than in asking for some ridiculously high rent.’

  Nick offered a rare smile. ‘Thank you, Lauren, that sounds excellent. Could you let me have the contact details for the solicitor? If it can be arranged, and if the house is available, perhaps Dr Devereux can have a look while he is here to see if it will suit his needs.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Frowning, Lauren reached for her bag and fumbled through it to find her address book. ‘I have it here…somewhere.’

  ‘Thank you, everyone,’ Nick said. ‘Have a good weekend.’

  People rose and began filing out, talking among themselves, but Chloe waited for Lauren as they had planned to walk back to town together. Lauren was going to meet Vicky, while Chloe wanted a quick shower and to change her clothes before heading to the surfing beach to find Oliver…and the picnic he had promised her. She was so hungry.

  When Lauren was finished and had handed over the details Nick wanted, Chloe turned to leave, noticing Kate ahead of her. She was about to say goodnight when Nick spoke again.

  ‘I appreciate this, Lauren.’ His took the piece of paper, then his voice firmed. ‘Kate, could you wait a moment? I’d like to have a word.’

  Chloe saw the shimmer of wariness in her friend’s eyes. ‘Yes, of course.’

  Hesitating as Lauren went on ahead, Chloe searched Kate’s gaze, feeling anxious about leaving the older woman. But Kate smiled and nodded imperceptibly, and she had no option but to say goodnight and follow Lauren downstairs. Even so, her worry for Kate remained.

  Kate tried to appear unconcerned as she was left alone with Nick. True, since she had confronted him at home he had been civil to her at work, but the tension remained between them. Their old friendship was in tatters. She tried so hard to understand him; despite all the upset, blame and guilt over Annabel’s death, Kate was sure that Nick had still not properly grieved for his wife. On top of which he had found out about Jem in the worst of ways. She wished that had never happened but it was too late to turn back the clock. And however unrequited her love, however hopeless the situation seemed, she could not regret having Jem in her life.

  Meeting Nick’s watchful gaze, she struggled for composure. ‘You wished to talk to me,’ she prompted, managing to keep her voice level.

  ‘Yes. Sit, please.’ She did as she had been bidden, while Nick closed the door and then sat opposite her, looking uncomfortable. Legs braced, he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clenched together. ‘I know it’s rich of me to ask, given the recent difficulties between us, but you have been—and still are—invaluable to the practice.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  The praise surprised her. Nick was not often one for compliments or showing his feelings. That he had said anything, especially in the current circumstances, created a warm glow inside her.

  ‘I know your role here has changed since you ceased being practice manager and returned to midwifery, but I would be grateful if you would be among the few to come for lunch to meet Dr Devereux, to welcome him and help familiarise him with the practice and Penhally Bay.’

  Kate swallowed her disappointment. She should have known Nick would only want to talk with her about work. ‘I see. Who else will be there?’

  ‘I was thinking of asking Dragan and Melinda. As incomers themselves, and originally from continental Europe, I thought they might have useful insights for Gabriel.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ she acknowledged, realising how hard Nick was trying, that this was important to him—and maybe important to them in the longer term.

  ‘Lucy and Ben will be coming, too, and bringing baby Annabel. I want to keep it informal. A barbecue, I thought. I…’ The hesitation lengthened, then he raised his head, the expression in his eyes cautious. ‘I have no objection if you wish to bring Jeremiah.’

  Kate sat back, considering his words. Jem would attend as her son—she read that much between the lines. Part of her was downhearted, and yet she recognised the gesture for what it was…an olive branch of sorts. She couldn’t expect too much too soon. Maybe if Nick saw Jem again in a social setting he would feel some draw, even if he was far from ready to acknowledge him as his son. It was less than she had dreamed of, but more than she had hoped for in recent weeks, so she accepted the hesitant step forward.

  ‘All right, Nick,’ she agreed, calling herself all kinds of a fool for allowing his answering smile to affect her so. ‘We’ll be happy to come and meet Gabriel.’

  ‘Thank you, Kate, I appr
eciate it. I’ll let you know when I have confirmation for the date of his visit.’

  The edge of relief in his tone and the slight relaxing of his tension gave her a measure of hope that the future might not be as bleak as she had feared.

  Chloe sat on the sand, her arms around her drawn-up knees, enjoying the early evening sunshine and the sight of Oliver surfing. Even though the beach was still busy and many people were in the water, she had picked him out straight away, instinctively drawn to him, admiring even from this distance the impressive athleticism of his six-foot-three inch frame, his supple movements, as if he were at one with the waves. The swell wasn’t huge, but he caught the next crest, twisting, turning, weaving, as he rode the board back towards the shore. Moments later, he was wading through the shallows, his board tucked under his arm, his free hand pushing wet strands of hair back from his face.

  Oh, my! Chloe thought she might self-destruct at the sight of him. All that bare, olive-toned skin over lean muscle dotted with water droplets. Strong shoulders, broad chest with a light dusting of dark hair arrowing down in a narrow line over an impressive abdomen, tight belly and disappearing under the low-slung, body-moulding, wetsuit shorts he wore. And she could glimpse part of the second tattoo he had mentioned. Sited off-centre, below his navel and over his right hipbone, the top of it peeped out from the waistband of his shorts. She couldn’t distinguish what it was but, remembering how wonderful it had been to touch him two nights ago, she was filled with an eagerness to explore that body further.

  Finding it hard to draw breath, Chloe struggled to swallow the lump lodged in her throat when her gaze clashed with his. His lips parted, his eyes darkened, and then he smiled. That slow, sexy, dimpled smile that melted her insides and made her forget her own name. He dropped to his knees beside her and leaned in to give her a lingering kiss.

  ‘Hi, babe.’

  ‘Hi.’ He smelt of sea, sun and man. ‘Sorry I’m late. Nick held us all back to talk about the twinning thing. Some French doctor is coming over in a few months to work in the practice for a year.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Oliver seemed interested but not concerned, and her fertile imagination conjured up reasons why the arrival of an extra doctor didn’t bother him. Was there room at the surgery for both Oliver and Gabriel? Was Oliver planning to extend his current contract? She had taken Kate’s advice and had asked Oliver about his return to Cornwall. He’d been open about his desire for a different kind of life, his need to settle, and she had hoped that had meant he would stay in Penhally itself.

  She had also been surprised and moved that someone as self-assured and confident as Oliver had insecurities about himself. He’d explained how he had never been able to shake off the playboy reputation or the family name, that people judged him on those rather than the person he was. She had felt guilty because that was exactly how she had first seen him. Now, though, she thought of him very differently. And she didn’t want him to leave. As she was struggling with her confused emotions, her stomach gave an audible rumble and Oliver laughed, rising to his feet again.

  ‘Sounds like I need to feed you,’ he teased, picking up his surfboard. ‘The car is nearby so I’ll head back to fetch the cooler. I won’t be long.’

  ‘OK.’

  Chloe watched him go, admiring his rear view. Sighing, she dropped her head on her knees, thinking about comments made by Vicky last night when they had been out at the cinema. Comments she had tried to banish from her mind.

  ‘I sometimes wonder if there’s any oestrogen in your body,’ Vicky had complained.

  Taken aback, Chloe had frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you have the scrumptious Oliver Fawkner panting after you and you don’t seem to be doing anything about it.’ Warming to her theme—subtle and tactful not being in her vocabulary—Vicky had continued. ‘A holiday fling is what you need. No commitment, just some fun with a guy who knows how to please a woman. I’ll have him if you don’t want him!’

  Vicky’s words upset her now as they had last night. Lauren had intervened, and had later taken her aside and told her to take no notice. ‘You know what Vicky is like. She doesn’t mean any harm. And she doesn’t know about your past.’

  Which was true, Chloe acknowledged now. But she didn’t want to think of her relationship with Oliver as some meaningless fling, and she was worried because she had no idea how he viewed their time together. She had no experience of this kind of thing, her feelings were so new and beyond her understanding. After Vicky’s comments, and now with the news that Gabriel Devereux would be coming from France, she couldn’t shake off the nagging fear that Oliver might not be serious about her, that he might move on. From her if not from Penhally itself.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She glanced up, so lost in thought she had been unaware of Oliver’s return. ‘Nothing,’ she answered, managing a smile, her gaze travelling over him.

  He had changed out of his wetsuit into ordinary cut-off denims, topped with a short-sleeved shirt he had left unbuttoned, allowing her a glimpse of his delectable torso. Her hands itched to explore him again. Her own body yearned to feel his touch. Setting the cooler down, he sat beside her and began taking out an impressive array of food. The sight of the treats in store, including some of the Trevellyans’ blue cheese she loved so much, had her stomach rumbling again.

  She felt a new edginess, a tension, as if they had reached a turning point. But maybe that was inside herself. She had decisions to make, and she knew if she wanted to take things further with Oliver she needed to face up to the demons that held her back. For now, though, she would enjoy his company and their picnic…time enough later to gather the courage to confront her memories of her father and confide in Oliver about her past.

  The picnic had been a success and, as always, he adored being with Chloe. But Oliver sensed something had been different this evening. At times she had seemed distracted, focused inward, and a flicker of unease gripped him as he followed her inside her cottage. For a moment she stood with her back to him, looking out of the window, and he couldn’t wait any longer to hold her. Closing the distance between them, admiring her curves in her sleeveless, knee-length dress, he slid his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck as he drew her back against him.

  ‘You’re very quiet tonight, babe.’

  ‘Just a bit tired,’ she murmured. ‘It’s been a hectic week.’

  He frowned, not entirely convinced by her explanation. ‘Do you want me to go home and let you get an early night?’ He’d be disappointed to cut short his time with her but he didn’t want her fatigued.

  ‘No.’ She wriggled in his hold, turning to face him, taking him by surprise when she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against him, her words muffled. ‘No, don’t go.’

  Something wasn’t right. He tightened his hold, raising a hand to stroke her hair. ‘I missed this last night.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  ‘But you had a good time?’ he asked, hearing an edge in her voice.

  She burrowed closer against him. ‘It was fine.’

  ‘Did someone upset you?’

  ‘No.’ He didn’t believe her but she changed the subject before he could question her further. ‘What have you been up to the last couple of days?’

  ‘Actually, I met an old friend of yours,’ he told her, deciding to take a chance and offer her an opening to confide in him.

  She pulled back to look up at him. ‘You did? Who?’

  ‘Gertie.’

  ‘Gertie?’ He smiled because her puzzled frown looked so cute. ‘I don’t know a Gertie.’

  ‘Gertrude Stanbury. Your old headmistress.’

  This time he laughed aloud at the expression on Chloe’s face, her eyes widening, her mouth dropping open in shock. ‘You called Ms Stanbury Gertie?’

  ‘She asked me to. She likes me.’

  ‘Obviously.’ Chloe shook her head, a genuine smile curving her mouth. ‘You’re such a charmer
!’

  He manufactured a hurt look. ‘What did I do?’

  ‘We were so in awe of her at school,’ she reflected with a reminiscent frown. ‘Her rule was law. Nothing got by her.’

  ‘She did say I should have a haircut.’

  ‘I bet!’

  Oliver regarded her for a moment. ‘You think I should cut my hair?’

  ‘No!’ She sounded horrified at the prospect, but his smile faded as her fingers sank into the thick strands at his nape, tightening his gut and increasing his arousal. ‘I like it. I just meant Ms Stanbury would have commented on it.’

  ‘Yeah, she had quite a bit to say for herself. She’s very fond of you,’ he added, watching her carefully, controlling his own emotions as he recalled the tale the older lady had related.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Mmm.’ He slipped his hand under the fall of her hair and trailed his fingers over her silken skin. ‘She said she used to worry about you, and she’s very proud of your success.’

  A welter of emotions chased across Chloe’s green eyes, ranging from alarm to surprise. ‘Oh. What else did she say?’ she queried, a new wariness in her voice, her body tensing in his hold, her arms loosening from around him.

  ‘She told me how much she regretted being unable to help you, to make a difference. She said you ran away.’

  ‘Yes.’ He could feel her trembling before she moved away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘No one could have helped.’

  Oliver was disappointed by her withdrawal, even though he had expected it. He felt nervous himself, concerned he was pushing too fast, unsure how best to reach Chloe, to encourage her to open up to him, to convince her it was safe to do so. Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa and sat down. Expecting her to keep her distance, he was relieved and delighted when she cuddled up against him.