A Bride For Glenmore

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘It’s Mary Hillier. She wants you to take a look at Shelley. Logan’s gone out on a call and Ethan is back to back with patients so I don’t like to bother him.’

  Kyla thought of the six calls she had to make and the paperwork waiting for her attention. ‘Of course, Janet. Send her in.’

  She couldn’t remember the last time Mary had come to the clinic for anything other than routine checks so the fact that she was asking for an appointment meant that she was must be really worried about something.

  She tipped a syringe and needles into the sharps box and washed her hands just as Mary tapped on the door and walked in.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, Nurse MacNeil,’ she said in a formal voice, gently pushing Shelley into the room. ‘I just wondered if you’d take a look at something for me.’

  ‘Of course. What’s the problem?’

  ‘It’s not me, it’s Shelley. She’s got these bruises all over her.’

  ‘Bruises?’ Kyla smiled at the girl. ‘How are you, Shelley? I saw you play in that netball match at the beginning of term. You were fantastic.’

  Shelley blushed. ‘You were watching?’

  ‘I came down to give a talk to some of the children on healthy eating and I couldn’t resist poking my nose in. So, where are these bruises? Can you show me?’

  Shelley hesitated and then lifted her top. ‘They’re everywhere, really. And I’ve got these on my legs.’ She slid her trouser legs up and Kyla bent down to take a closer look.

  ‘How long have you had them?’

  ‘They’ve just come up in the last few days,’ Shelley muttered. ‘At first I thought I’d just banged myself, but now they’re everywhere so I don’t think it’s that. I didn’t fall or anything.’

  ‘Have you been ill, Shelley?’ Kyla reached for a thermometer and checked the girl’s temperature.

  ‘No. Nothing.’

  Mary looked anxiously at Kyla. ‘Does she have a temperature?’

  Kyla shook her head and forced a smile that she hoped was reassuring. ‘No. Her temperature is fine. Why don’t we ask the doctor to take a look at her? I’m just going to pop across to Dr Walker and see if he can fit her in.’

  She left the room but Mary caught up with her in the corridor. ‘Nurse MacNeil…’

  Kyla turned and saw the worry in the other woman’s face. She reached out and touched her on the arm, acknowledging the concern. ‘I doubt it’s what you’re thinking, Mary,’ she said softly, ‘but we’ll get it checked out immediately. Dr Walker is very, very good. If there’s anything for us to be worrying about, he’ll tell us soon enough. He trained at one of the top London hospitals, you know. You go back to Shelley or she’ll pick up on your worry.’

  Mary bit her lip but gave a nod and returned to the treatment room.

  Kyla knocked on Ethan’s door and walked in.

  He was reading something on the computer screen and had a pen in his hand. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me. And you can put that frown away, Dr Walker, because I don’t scare easily.’ She kept her tone light and saw a glimmer of a smile in his eyes.

  ‘I’m sure you don’t. Can I do something for you?’ He was wearing a dark, well-cut suit and he looked formal and more than a little remote.

  ‘I hope so.’ Trying not to be intimidated by the suit, Kyla came straight to the point. ‘I’ve a patient I’m worried about. Eleven-year-old girl with bruising all over her body. My first reaction is to panic and think meningitis, but she looks well, apart from a bit tired, perhaps. Her temperature is normal and she’s not been ill.’

  ‘If meningitis even floats through your head, I’ll see her straight away.’ Ethan put the pen down on the desk and stood up. ‘What’s your second reaction?’

  Relieved and impressed that he was taking her so seriously, Kyla came straight out with it. ‘Leukaemia. I don’t want to be dramatic but it has to cross your mind, doesn’t it?’

  ‘There are many possible diagnoses,’ Ethan said calmly as he walked round the desk. ‘Leukaemia is just one.’

  ‘I know, but—’ Kyla broke off and bit her lip. ‘You should know that Shelley’s mother, Mary, had a sister with leukaemia. She died about three years ago. Mary hasn’t asked a direct question and obviously she doesn’t want to frighten the child, but I can see from her eyes that she’s frantic with worry.’

  Ethan walked towards the door. ‘Then the sooner I see her, the better. I’ll have a better idea once I’ve examined her and obviously I’m going to need to do some blood tests. Bring her in.’ His tone was crisp. Direct. ‘I’ll examine her here. And you’d better stay, if you have the time, given that you know the history.’

  ‘I’ll stay.’ She wasn’t going anywhere until she knew what was happening.

  Ethan examined the child thoroughly, aware of the tension in Mary’s body as she stood to the side of him, watching.

  He questioned Shelley at length and then smiled at her. ‘I’m going to need to take some blood from you, just to run a few routine tests. Is that all right?’

  Shelley pulled a face. ‘Will it hurt?’

  ‘A bit,’ Ethan said honestly, reaching behind him for the tray he’d prepared. ‘But not much and not for long. Kyla?’

  Kyla handed him a tourniquet and he tightened it round the girl’s arm, stroking the skin as he searched for a good vein.

  Kyla kept up a steady stream of chat. ‘So did your netball team go over to the mainland and play the girls at St Jude’s last week?’

  A smile spread across Shelley’s face. ‘We thrashed them. Sixteen to one.’

  ‘Brilliant.’ Kyla turned to Ethan. ‘The school is so small here that every single girl is in the netball team!’

  ‘But we’re still the best,’ Shelley said quickly, and Ethan smiled, mentally blessing Kyla for her distraction skills.

  ‘Sharp scratch coming up, Shelley,’ he said smoothly, and slid the needle into the vein.

  Shelley didn’t stop talking. ‘Mia Wilson was the best. She got it in the net about fourteen times.’

  ‘Well, she’s tall, of course, so that helps,’ Kyla murmured, handing him a piece of cotton wool. ‘And her mum is the sports teacher, which is another distinct advantage.’

  Shelley laughed and Ethan withdrew the needle and pressed with the cotton wool.

  ‘I’ll do that while you sort out the sample,’ Kyla murmured, her fingers sliding over his as she took over the pressure.

  Her hands were so much smaller than his, her fingers slim and delicate and Ethan felt a sudden burst of heat erupt inside him.

  Gritting his teeth and rejecting the feeling, he turned away and labelled the samples carefully. ‘I’m going to send these off. As soon as I get a result, I’ll be in touch.’ Seeing the anxiety in Mary’s eyes, he turned to Kyla. ‘Can you take Shelley to your treatment room and find her a plaster, please? I don’t seem to have one here.’

  To her credit, Kyla immediately picked up on his intention. ‘Useless doctors,’ she said cheerfully, slipping her arm through Shelley’s and leading her towards the door. ‘They can do all sorts of fancy, complicated things but when it comes to something simple like a plaster, you can forget it. We girls will see you in Reception in a minute.’

  Ethan waited until the door closed behind them and then turned to Mary. ‘I understand that you’re very worried about this.’

  Mary was stiff, her fingers gripping her handbag. ‘Do I have reason to be?’

  ‘Obviously, until I have the results back, I can’t be sure what it is, but I’m pretty confident that it isn’t leukaemia.’

  Mary’s teeth clamped on her lips and he could see that she was battling with tears. ‘If it is—’

  ‘I don’t think it is,’ Ethan said firmly. ‘There are other things that it can be, Mrs Hillier. I’m going to get these results back as fast as possible and then I’ll call you. Is it useless to tell you not to worry?’

  ‘Completely useless.’ Mary gave a wan smile. ‘But thank you for your thoughtfulness.�
��

  ‘So you don’t think it’s leukaemia?’ Kyla closed the door of his consulting room and stood with her back to it. ‘Really?’

  ‘Shelley looks well and there’s no history of trauma. I’ve examined her thoroughly and her liver and spleen feel normal and there’s no evidence of lymphadenopathy.’

  ‘So what are the bruises?’

  ‘Obviously until I see the results of the blood count I can’t be sure, but I think she probably has ITP. Idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura.’

  Kyla frowned. ‘I’ve heard of it but I don’t know much about it and we’ve certainly never had a patient. What’s the treatment?’

  ‘Depending on the platelet count, it may just be a case of watchful waiting. In someone of Shelley’s age the condition will probably be acute and it will resolve over a few months.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t?’

  He gave a faint smile. ‘What’s happened to your cheerful, optimistic nature, Kyla?’

  ‘I just like to know the options.’ She looked away, struggling with her body’s powerful response to his smile. He was indecently attractive. ‘Mary is a friend of my mother’s. She had Shelley late in life and she’s very precious. I need to have all the facts at my disposal.’

  ‘In a small number of children it can be chronic, and she might have to avoid contact sports…’ he shrugged ‘…but so much depends on the blood tests. If her platelets are at a reasonable level then it becomes less of a problem. It’s really too soon to try and predict the future for her.’

  ‘So you’re saying that she could just recover spontaneously?’

  ‘That’s right.’ He studied her closely. ‘You look as worried and upset as her mother. It doesn’t do to get too involved with your patients, Nurse MacNeil.’

  His comment stung and her shoulders stiffened defensively. ‘Well, that’s the theory certainly.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Try living on an island where you know everyone, Dr Walker. And, then try staying detached. It’s a pretty tall order, I can tell you. And frankly, I don’t think I’d like to be the sort of person who didn’t care what happened to her patients.’

  He frowned. ‘Kyla—’

  ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.’ She tugged open the door and left the room, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to control her temper. How dared he suggest that she was too involved with her patients?

  She cared about them.

  What was wrong with that?

  Thoroughly unsettled, she went back to her own consulting room and finished the clearing-up she’d started before Janet had asked her to see Shelley.

  Infuriating man, she thought as she pushed a box of dressings back into the cupboard and slammed the door shut. He may be amazing to look at but he was cold-hearted and unemotional. Which made him completely wrong for her.

  Evanna was right.

  It would be safer to steer clear of him.

  Ethan vaulted over the fence that separated the two cottages and walked up the garden.

  The doors to the kitchen were open and he could see Kyla standing in front of the stove, singing along to the radio. Her blonde curls were pinned haphazardly to the top of her head and her feet were bare. She wore a pair of faded jeans that rode low on her hips, exposing a tempting expanse of smooth, tanned abdomen. She was lean, fit and incredibly sexy, and something dangerous stirred inside him.

  He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he couldn’t afford the luxury of becoming involved with this woman.

  Life was about to become complicated enough without the extra dimension that a relationship would inevitably bring.

  He was just working out the best way to begin what needed to be said when she glanced up and saw him. The singing stopped.

  ‘I have a perfectly good front door with a working doorbell.’

  ‘I heard you singing so I thought I’d come round the back.’ He ignored her frosty tone and strolled into the kitchen. ‘You can stop glaring at me because I’ve come to apologise.’

  ‘You’re saying that you were wrong?’

  ‘No.’ She had beautiful eyes, he decided. In fact, the whole package was beautiful. ‘I still think it doesn’t do to get too involved with patients, but I can see that it might be hard to do that on an island like this. And you’re very caring, there’s no doubt about that.’ And it was impossible not to respond to her.

  Suddenly he wanted to touch her. Really touch her. He wanted to taste and feel and immerse himself in the woman she was.

  ‘Caring is what makes this community so special.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s true. But isn’t it also true that caring too much sometimes makes it difficult to do your job?’

  A shadow darkened her blue eyes and her slim shoulders sagged slightly. ‘Perhaps. But it’s hard to change your personality, Ethan. You just have to work with what you’ve got. This is me. This is who I am.’ Her simple statement encompassed the differences between them and guilt gnawed at his insides.

  She was open and honest. Transparent.

  Whereas he…

  Her quiet declaration reminded him that she knew nothing about the person he really was.

  He clenched his hands into fists by his sides to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her against him. To make any sort of move would be inexcusable when he was hiding so much from her.

  Cold and hard were adjectives that many women had applied to him but so far no one had thrown ‘immoral’ at him, and he didn’t intend them to start now.

  ‘I just think that you can do your job better if you can stay slightly detached. It makes it easier to think clearly.’

  She gave a sigh and turned back to the pan on the hob. ‘You sound like Logan. He always manages to get the balance right. I’m terrible. I take everything much more personally, but I can’t help it.’

  ‘And that’s what makes you a nice person.’ He realised that it was true. Even during the short time he’d been on the island he could see that she gave a great deal of herself to her job and to the community. ‘What are you cooking?’

  ‘Soup from a can. I can hardly bear the anticipation.’ She stared at the gloopy liquid with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. ‘I’d offer you some but frankly I wouldn’t want to poison you. You’re better off with whatever you have in your own fridge.’

  ‘There’s nothing in my fridge apart from milk and beer and neither of those is going to make a decent meal. Is there a good pub on the island?’

  ‘The Stag’s Head. Down on the quay. Given that they know what you did for Doug, I doubt you’d even have to pay for your supper. You’ll probably get a hero’s welcome.’

  ‘I don’t mind paying but I need to eat something soon. I missed lunch.’ He leaned forward and turned off the hob. ‘Let’s go.’

  She stared at him and then at the saucepan on the hob. ‘I’m eating soup.’

  ‘Not any more. You’re eating in the pub with me.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘What if I don’t want to eat in the pub?’

  ‘You’d rather eat congealed soup of indeterminate origin?’ He watched her shudder and gave a smile. ‘Come on. We both know that a stranger walking into that place is going to be given the third degree. If you’re so committed to helping people in the community, the least you can do is give me some moral support.’

  She looked at the soup and then back at him. ‘It isn’t that hard a choice.’

  ‘Good.’ He glanced down at her feet. ‘Just put some shoes on or the locals will talk.’

  And he hoped she’d change out of the jeans in order to allow his blood pressure to settle.

  Kyla walked into the pub ahead of Ethan and felt every pair of eyes in the room fasten themselves on her.

  Let them talk, she thought cheerfully, elbowing her way to the bar through the crowd of locals. It had been a long time since anyone had had reason to gossip about her. It would do them all good. ‘Coming through,’ she sang out as she wiggled and pushed her way to the front. ‘This is a
medical emergency. Starving hungry and gasping for a drink.’

  The man behind the bar grinned and opened a fridge. ‘So this is for medicinal purposes?’

  ‘Of course, Ben. What else?’ She settled herself on a stool at the bar and rested her arms on the bar.

  Ben handed her a glass of white wine. ‘We were all shocked to hear about Doug.’

  ‘Logan spoke to the hospital today and he’s doing all right. He’ll be home before you know it.’

  ‘All the same, I feel responsible.’ Ben scratched his head awkwardly and Kyla looked at him quizzically.

  ‘How can you possibly be responsible?’

  ‘He was lugging my crates around,’ Ben said roughly, and Kyla gave a soft smile.

  ‘And from what I heard, you were the one to take him straight to the surgery, so you did him a good turn. Stop fretting.’ Kyla glanced behind her and noticed that Ethan was hovering on the edge of the crowd. On impulse, she ordered for him and pushed her way back through to a vacant table, clutching the glasses. ‘I ordered you a pint of the local brew. Hope that’s OK. We’ll sit here.’

  ‘I feel like a zoo animal on display. Do they ever stop staring?’

  ‘Only when someone more interesting walks in. Here. Try this.’ Kyla handed him the drink. ‘It will put hairs on your chest.’

  His eyes met hers and she felt her heart skip a beat. Now, why had she said a stupid thing like that when she was trying so hard not to think about his body?

  ‘Unless you want the whole island gossiping, I suggest you stop looking at me like that,’ he suggested in a soft tone, and lifted the glass and drank.

  ‘I am not looking at you. You’re looking at me. And if I walk into the pub with a man, people are going to gossip. It’s a fact of life.’

  He put his drink back down on the table. ‘Sorry. I’m not used to being the centre of attention.’

  Wasn’t he? Kyla was willing to lay bets that wherever he went women stared at him, but perhaps he just wasn’t aware of that fact. ‘Does it bother you?’

  ‘No. Does it bother you?’