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His Christmas Bride-To-Be (Medical Romance)

Page 6

by Abigail Gordon


  ‘My mother was born in this place, but when I came along they were living in Yorkshire because of my father’s job. She was so homesick they christened me Glenn after the place she loved so much. At the first opportunity he brought her back to Glenminster and they’ve been here ever since.

  ‘Not me, though. I met my wife when we were both studying medicine up north and when we married we stayed up there content with our lot until it all fell apart and I came back here to pick up the pieces.’

  Emma was listening to what he had to say with wide eyes. Was this the same man who valued his privacy, wouldn’t let her make him a meal, and now was putting the blame for his peculiarities on to a failed marriage?

  ‘It would be a pleasure to be up amongst the hills again,’ she told him, and with a last look at an abundance of cream roses on the grave she turned away and they walked back to the practice building in silence.

  Once they were there Glenn said, ‘Can you be ready in twenty minutes? Have you had some lunch?’

  ‘Yes,’ she told him, and feeling that she ought to explain said, ‘The reason you found me beside my mother’s grave is because since I’ve come back I’ve discovered that someone is mistakenly putting flowers on it and I need to know who they are.

  ‘I thought it might be Lydia because the two of them were good friends. But it isn’t and she is just as curious as I am, as I have no relatives that I know of.’

  Glenn was observing her sombrely. What was it about Emma that brought out the need in him to look after her? It wasn’t because his return to the place where his life had been resurrected a few days ago had made him want to find a replacement for Serena.

  That had just brought some peace to the empty shell that he lived in. That being so, as they drove towards the farmhouse high up on the hillside where his patient lived, he felt free to offer his services with regard to the mystery mourner. He said, ‘If there is someone bringing flowers in remembrance of your mother, we need to find out why, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ she agreed. ‘Yet it is a long time since she was taken from me, though not to someone else, it might seem, unless they’re putting flowers on the wrong grave. The hurt is always there. I loved her so much, but today I don’t want to think about the past. I just want to look and look and look at my favourite places.’

  ‘And so you shall,’ he promised, ‘when we’ve seen the farmer and sorted out his health problems. You may remember him from before you went away. Does the name Jack Walsh ring a bell?’

  Emma swivelled to face him in the confines of the car. ‘Yes, his son was in my class at school. What’s wrong with his father?’

  ‘An injury while harvesting that occurred during your absence. Every so often his spine seizes up and he has to go for hospital treatment. He won’t make the effort until I insist on it, and with Christmas coming up he will be reluctant to miss the festivities. Luckily his wife, who knows him better than he knows himself, rang to say that he could hardly walk.’

  ‘So who runs the place?’ Emma asked.

  ‘The rest of the family,’ was the reply as he brought the car to a halt outside a farmhouse built from the local golden stone that was so popular amongst the builders and house owners of the area.

  They found Jack Walsh reclining on a couch, watching television. When he spotted Emma he groaned.

  ‘You’re Jeremy’s daughter, aren’t you?’ he asked. ‘Come back, have you, now that he’s gone?’

  Glenn watched the colour drain from her face and anger spiralled inside him. ‘Dr Chalmers is here to assist, not to be insulted!’ he told him. ‘So how about a demonstration of your mobility as that’s what we’re here to observe? Your wife thinks that it’s worse.’

  As Jack eased himself off the couch and, leaning on a stick, moved slowly across the room Emma was wishing herself miles away. There had been something in his comment regarding herself that had made her cringe because it had brought back the memory of that awful night when she’d fled from her home.

  At that moment Mrs Walsh appeared and greeted them with a relieved smile and the conversation became medical again. Glenn sternly insisted that the regular physiotherapy sessions that Jack had been giving a miss should be started again immediately unless he wanted to be totally unable to enjoy the pleasures of Christmas.

  ‘Your muscle control is very poor, more from lack of effort than anything else,’ Emma told him when both doctors had examined the patient.

  ‘Dr Chalmers is right,’ Glenn told him, ‘so back to the physiotherapy and we will see you again before Christmas is upon us.’

  ‘Aye, if you say so,’ Jack agreed irritably. ‘It’s all right for some.’

  When they left the farm it was three o’clock and Glenn thought there wasn’t going to be much time for Emma to renew her acquaintance with past memories. ‘It will be dark soon,’ he said. ‘What would you like to do most in the time we have left before we need to return to the practice?’

  Her answer was prompt. ‘Watch a winter sunset on the horizon.’

  ‘Right, we will do that, but from inside. How about afternoon tea, somewhere with a good view?’

  She hesitated. ‘Won’t we be needed back at the practice?’

  ‘Not for a couple of hours. My father is insisting that I make it up to you for not being around on your first day there.’ Glenn smiled as he drove into the parking area of a cosy-looking café. ‘So here goes, afternoon tea up amongst the hills.’

  They had a table near the window, the food was delicious, and as the winter sun sank below the skyline Emma thought it was the first time she’d felt really happy in years.

  As he watched Emma, Glenn thought that this stranger that he had bought back to Glenminster was very easily pleased. She made no demands, just quietly got on with the life she had come back to, but he sensed that deep down she was hurting and it almost certainly had something to do with Jeremy.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he compared Emma’s father to his own. His was a ‘do-gooder’, which was the main reason why his mother sometimes threw him out because he overdid it and his concern for others got her down. While she just wanted a pleasant retirement he was busy looking after all the waifs and strays of the neighbourhood. Glenn understood both their points of view.

  He sometimes thought that if he could have given his parents a grandchild to love in their old age it would have been different, but a terrifying act of nature had put an end to that dream for always.

  * * *

  As they watched the sun go down he said, ‘I am very impressed to hear that you’re going to give the house a face-lift, Emma, but it will be a huge undertaking for you on your own, Why did Chalmers let it get so run-down? He was always smartly dressed, had a big car, and was never away from the golf club, so I’m told, yet the house is a mess.’

  ‘It was just a place to sleep—that was how he saw it,’ she told him, ‘and if my mother ever asked for anything new, he wasn’t interested.’

  ‘Yes. I see,’ he commented, and thought that all of that went with Chalmers’s type. On the heels of that thought came another that he was already putting into words and thinking he was insane.

  ‘If you decide to go ahead with the renovations, I will be only too pleased to help in any way I can,’ he said gently. ‘You have only to ask, Emma.’

  He watched her colour rise as she turned to him in confusion and said, ‘I wouldn’t dream of involving you in doing anything like that, Glenn. You did enough in finding me and bringing me back home.’

  ‘Yes, well, we’ll see about that if and when the time comes,’ he said. ‘In the meantime, take everything one step at a time.’

  What did he mean by that? she wondered. Was it a reference to her impulsive decision to give the house a makeover, or was Glenn aware that she was attracted to him—a lot?
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  It was time to change the subject, she thought as they drove back to the practice. ‘I’ve loved being back amongst the hills, Glenn,’ she said. ‘Thank you for taking me with you. I thought it would be just a matter of a house call to a difficult patient, but it was much more than that.’

  He smiled in response, and the thought came to him again that Emma didn’t take a lot of pleasing.

  But how long was she going to be pleased with him safe behind his touch-me-not barricades? He found himself worryingly close to thinking about her in a way he hadn’t envisaged before, so bringing a lighter note into the moment he said, ‘So can I tell my father that I have redeemed myself for being missing on your first day at the practice?’

  ‘You can indeed,’ Emma assured him. ‘Today has been my first happy day in ages. I would be totally content if it weren’t for the flowers that keep appearing on my mother’s grave.’

  ‘Yes, that I can understand,’ he said gently. ‘We need to do something about it. I sometimes use the churchyard as a short cut so will be on the lookout. And I’m sure Lydia will be keeping a close watch too, and of course you will be. So between us we should be able to come up with an answer sooner or later.’

  When they arrived back at the practice Glenn had a patient waiting and Emma was involved with assisting the practice nurses with a cluster of school children brought in by their parents for the nasal flu spray vaccination, and for the rest of the afternoon the happy moments up on the hillside seemed far away. But in the quiet of the evening the memory of the time spent with Glenn was there again and with it the same amount of pleasure.

  * * *

  During the following fortnight the mystery of the flowers seemed to have gone away and Emma began to think that maybe it had been someone’s mistake as no more strange blooms appeared. The only flowers on view were the ones that she took herself and she was relieved to discover that it was so.

  But just when she had started to forget about them the flowers reappeared. Engrossed in her plans for renovating the house, Emma decided to ignore them. Not so Glenn and Lydia, who kept watch for a while, but without any success. Eventually Emma placed them on a grave that was always bare, only to find the unknown mourner not fazed by that as fresh flowers continued to arrive alongside her own.

  * * *

  With Christmas approaching and nothing to look forward to socially, Emma was pleased to hear that there was to be a staff party on the Saturday evening a week before the festive occasion. She felt that it called for something special to wear, especially if Glenn was going to be there. Although she had her doubts that he would be.

  Ever since the afternoon spent with him up on the hillside Glenn had been distant when in her company and she wondered if he still spent every moment of his spare time closeted in his house. He had referred to the ending of his marriage with cold clarity and she wondered where his ex-wife was now.

  Nevertheless, it didn’t stop her from buying a dress that brought out the attractions of the dark sheen of her hair and pale smooth skin, and as the occasion drew near she resigned herself to being an odd one out in the hotel that had been chosen by those who knew the night life of the town, as it was now, far better than she did.

  Lydia would be there and had suggested that they share a taxi to get there but had explained that she would be staying the night at the hotel after the party and so wouldn’t be around for the home journey.

  ‘But I’m sure that Glenn will give you a lift home if you ask him,’ she’d said. ‘He never stays over on those occasions. Just puts in a courtesy appearance and once the meal is over expresses his best wishes to the staff and goes back to the peace of that lovely house of his. That is if you don’t want to stay long, of course. Otherwise it will need to be a taxi again,’ she told her.

  ‘Right, I’ll remember that.’ She wondered if deep down she really wanted to go. There were decisions to make about the house, alterations that she wanted done as soon as possible. A quiet night in would help to move the project along more quickly, but there was the beautiful new dress. She did want to wear it when Glenn would be there to see her in it...

  * * *

  In the meantime, as the days spent at the practice went too fast and were so busy, Glenn wasn’t looking forward to Christmas any more than he had over the last few years. He may have made his peace regarding losing Serena, but the loneliness was still there.

  Restless now in the quiet of his home, unable to relax, he knew he had to do something about it, but what? As head of the practice he was committed to going to the staff Christmas party, which was looming up in the near future. He realised with a combination of pleasure and pain that Emma would be there.

  Glenn had shopped already for his Christmas gifts to his parents. As was the routine since losing Serena, he would be spending the two festive days with them at their house, with his mother doing all she could to brighten the occasion and his father restless and on edge because he longed for grandchildren and his son never did anything towards granting him his wish.

  He had wondered a few times what Emma’s Christmas would be like in that ghastly house on her own. If his two days of festivities were heavy going, hers would probably be worse, unless she had something planned that he knew nothing about.

  As far as she was concerned, it still upset her that Glenn hadn’t let her thank him for his kindness on the occasion of her return to Glenminster and she intended using the approaching festivities to make up for the lapse in some way.

  As the days went by she was beginning to feel a loneliness that had never been there before at Christmastime, even while she’d worked abroad. Although it hadn’t exactly been joyful in past years, with just Jeremy and herself to share the event with their opposing lifestyles and little in common, it hadn’t felt as empty as this, she thought as she wandered around Glenminster’s delightful shopping promenades for a gift for Lydia and a magical something to present to Glenn if he would accept it.

  On one of her shopping trips she met Glenn’s parents, and his father, Jonas, introduced her to Glenn’s mother Olivia as ‘Jeremy’s daughter come back to the fold’ and asked how she intended spending Christmas.

  It was an awkward moment. Emma knew that he was always on the lookout for waifs and strays and didn’t want to be classified as such, but was lost how to reply to the question. Luckily, Glenn’s mum provided an escape route by saying that her husband was always looking for helpers with his good works and on Christmas Day was masterminding a free Yuletide lunch for the needy in the town centre.

  ‘I would love to help with that,’ Emma told him with complete honesty, ‘either by cooking, serving, or helping generally.’

  ‘I’ll accept the offer,’ he told her promptly with gruff gratitude, ‘but only on one condition—that you dine with us in the evening.’

  Emma felt her colour rise at the thought of Glenn’s expression when he discovered that she was going to be part of his Christmas celebrations—if that was the correct word to describe the foursome that his father had suggested. Uneasy at the thought, Emma made a weak acceptance of the invitation and braced herself for explaining how it had come about to Glenn the next time they came face to face, which turned out to be the following morning at the practice.

  * * *

  Glenn had been engrossed in a report he’d received from the endocrine clinic in Glenminster’s main hospital concerning a patient whose calcium levels had been rising dangerously over past months, according to his recent tests. When he looked up to see Emma standing in front of him she looked very serious, so he asked her what was wrong.

  ‘It’s about Christmas Day,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Your father has invited me to dine with the three of you in the evening and I really don’t want to intrude, but hesitate to offend him.’

  ‘I didn’t know that you were on visiting terms with my folks,’ he commented dryly. ‘Ho
w did that come about?’

  ‘I offered to assist with the Christmas lunch he’s organising for the lonely and needy folks around the place, and the invitation to dine with your parents and yourself in the evening became part of the arrangement.’

  ‘So why the fuss? If you don’t want to do that, tell him so. My dad is a great guy for organising other people’s lives, whether they want him to or not. But he means well and when it comes to the lonely or isolated he excels himself.’

  ‘And is that how you see me?’ she said quietly. As a pathetic loner? You don’t know the half of it.’ And on that comment she went to her consulting room and prepared to face the day.

  When Emma had gone Glenn squirmed at the way he’d been so offhand with her. What was he thinking? The thought of her beside him on such a special day of the year was magical. It would help to take away some of the emptiness that he lived with, but instead of telling her how much he needed her he had sent her away after showing little interest in her plea for his advice. And as the morning progressed there was no opportunity to tell her how much he would like her to be there on the evening of Christmas Day.

  The flowers were still appearing on the grave and Emma had decided that if in some way her mother was conscious of them and content to receive them, she was going to let the mystery of them lie like a blessing. So that lunchtime she went into the churchyard as she sometimes did and spent a few quiet moments there to calm the confusion of her conversation with Glenn earlier.

  As she turned to go he was there, seemingly having read her mind. Observing her quizzically, he said, ‘Do you ever regret coming back to Glenminster, Emma?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said immediately. ‘I belong here and nowhere else, but there are unsolved questions I have to live with.’

  ‘Such as the mystery flowers?’

  ‘Yes, that in part; but bigger issues than that haunt me. I envy you your parents, Glenn. You are so fortunate to have them here in your life every moment of every day. Although I am so sorry that your marriage didn’t work.’

 

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