by Vivien Vale
“I’ll see you later,” she calls over her shoulder.
I grunt.
When I’m finally finished, I feel like I’m going to die.
Well, maybe not quite, but fuck, my back is sore. It feels as if it’s on fucking fire.
Even when I slip my shirt on, the pain is excruciating.
Thank fucking god we’re on water rations. At least this way, there’s no fucking risk of needing an excuse to not have a shower.
***
“Hey,” I spin around, and find myself face to face with Adelaide.
“Hi,” I growl, and move gingerly from the door of her hut to the living area.
“You can sit down.” She smiles at me. “It’s not extra.”
I shake my head.
The problem with sitting down is my back might touch the back of the chair, and that would be a fucking disaster.
For a minute or so, she just stands and looks at me. I do my best to give her the most nonchalant look I can muster.
I mean, it’s not as if I can whine or complain. There are people seriously sick in this village.
I, on the other hand, am only suffering from sunburn, inflicted by my own stupid hand.
“You okay?”
I nod.
She takes a step toward me. My heart starts beating faster.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Suddenly my throat feels terribly dry.
“Yep,” I mumble.
Now she’s only inches away from me. She folds her arms in front of her, and tilts her head to the side.
Gosh, she looks fucking hot. Even in my current state, I’d love to just grab her and wrap my arms around her, although I don’t think I would want her arms around me.
“You’re not fine, are you.” It’s a statement, and not a question. “In fact, I’d say you’re just the opposite.”
I’m so parched now I feel as if I’ve been in the desert without water for forty-five days.
“Turn around.”
I stare at her.
She inches toward me.
“Turn around, and let me look at your back.”
With her eyes blazing and her voice starting to become commanding, I do as I’m told.
“You better go and lie down on the cot so I can apply some soothing lotion to that.”
Again, I don’t offer resistance.
“Okay, boss,” I mumble, and do as I’m told.
The cool gel on my burning skin is a big relief.
Her fingers rubbing it in, pure fucking torture.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Her question throws me.
“About what?”
“Your sunburn,” she says softly.
The way her fingers are running along my back, spreading the gel is playing havoc with my brain. All my thoughts have turned to mush. I can’t string together one proper thought.
I’m spared an answer by her continued speech.
“Do you remember the time you and Sten went on a rabbit hunt?”
“Yep,” I groan, and hope she doesn’t hear the torture in my voice.
“And Sten fell out of the tree?”
“It was you who splinted his arm until you got back home.”
She laughs, and it’s music to my soul.
Up and down she moves, side to side, then back again.
Any second and my brain is going to take a leave of absence and leave my dick in charge of thinking.
“Those times were great,” she says, her hands still on my back. “The way we used to hang out.” She pauses. “Actually, you and Stan hung out, and I just tagged along.”
“You seemed to belong there,” I reply, still struggling to string proper sentences together.
My fucking cock is throbbing, and I thank my lucky stars I’m lying face down—because it’s definitely ready for action.
I’d hate to scare her off.
The more she’s talking about the past, the harder it is for me.
“I used to have such a crush on you,” she’s giggling now. “And you barely even noticed me.”
Her hands are now at my waistband, and I can feel my insides melt. The tips of her fingers push just a bit below my shorts, nearly touching my ass.
Do it, do it, I urge her on mentally, and feel my muscles contract in anticipation.
But then, just like that, she stops.
I wait to see if she’ll resume what she’s been doing, but she doesn’t.
It takes a while for the flames of passion to die down.
“That should make you feel better.”
You have no fucking idea.
Hearing what she just told me was worth getting my fucking back burnt for.
Chapter 15
Adelaide
“Care for a pick-me-up?”
I open my eyes and take a minute to get my bearings.
Ford is standing next to my bed with a mug in his hand. He’s smiling.
When he said ‘pick me up’, I thought…well, never mind what I thought.
He shouldn’t know anything about my dream.
Quickly, I look down to make sure the thin cotton sheet is covering me. I’d hate for him to see more than he should.
We might have broken down some barriers last night, but that was all. It’s not as if we’re suddenly going to jump into bed together.
“Strong black tea with a bit of sugar.” He’s grinning at me. “I’m told it’s a really good pick-me-up, or something like that.”
Something’s different about him.
I can’t pick up on it just yet.
But I think even his grunting is a little clearer this morning.
I take the mug and hope my hands are not shaking too much. When the tips of my fingers brush against his, millions of tiny electric sparks ignite within me.
My eyes find his.
Is he happy?
As strange as it sounds, it certainly seems so.
Where was the efficient bodyguard? The cool, calm, and collected non-smiling man I’ve gotten used to over the last few days?
“Thank you,” I mumble and take a sip. “How’s the back this morning?”
“Thanks to the wonders of one young amazing doctor I know, very good.”
He’s still smiling, and it’s unnerving me.
My insides are practically melting at his compliments. They make me smile.
“Well,” I start, but don’t quite know what else to say.
For a while, we simply sip our tea.
Something’s changed, but I can’t work out what it is—at least not yet.
“I thought I’d come with you this morning when you do your house visits,” he announces, and I’m taken aback.
“Why?”
It’s not as if I don’t want him to.
Holy shit, I want him alright, but I’m not sure about having him follow me like a lost puppy all morning.
“To protect you,” he replies and smiles. “Have you already forgotten why I’m here?”
I sigh.
“How could I?”
He grins.
“But I think I’ll be fine on my own, thank you.”
I watch him throw a hand to his forehead, as if mortally wounded by my words. “You sure know how to hurt a guy, you know that?”
I laugh. “Here’s some more wounding, Ford. Can you please wait outside while I get dressed?”
Now his eyes lighten up. “You sure I can’t help you with that?”
His words turn my knees to jelly.
Luckily I’m still lying down, otherwise I might have collapsed right now.
“I’m sure.”
When I emerge fully dressed and ready for rounds, I see Ford waiting outside.
For the briefest of seconds, I hesitate.
Should I say something? He looks so keen, eager, and so darn handsome.
“Let’s go.” Purposefully, I stride away from my hut toward my first patient.
As much as I can, I try to ignore the flame o
f desire flickering inside me.
The way my heart beats faster when he looks at me, and the way the palms of my hands feel sweaty whenever he’s within arm’s reach.
At this rate, this is going to be a long day.
My first visit is a quick one. I need to dress the wound of one of the village elders who was bitten by a donkey.
The wound is infected and taking longer to heal than I would like.
“Need me to do something?”
I shake my head. The retort ‘leave’ remains at the tip of my tongue.
It’s not that I don’t want him here. It’s the opposite.
I want him. Man, I want him now more than I did before.
My insides are tingling.
“Have you been taking these?” I hold up the bottle of antibiotics, and notice how the old man won’t look at me.
I have to force myself to focus.
My eyes tend to drift to Ford who’s standing close to me—too close.
He’s so close that if I move just a little to the left, my shoulder will be touching his leg.
As if sensing my thoughts, he shifts his position and brushes against me.
Millions of electric sparks ignite within me, and I give an involuntary shiver.
“Look,” I lean forward. Focus, I remind myself. You’ve got patients to look after. “You need to take them to get better.”
The man gives me a toothless grin and I leave. Ford is hot on my heels.
“How about morning tea?”
I laugh. “I don’t know what hours you keep, but we’ve only just started.”
When I finally finish my house calls, Ford orders me to take a break.
“Let me treat you to a picnic.”
It might be the heat, or the residual feeling from the night before, but I don’t offer any resistance.
Ford leads me to a Flamboyant tree.
“Wait here,” he commands, and I smile as I watch him scoot away.
I’m not sure what to make of this new Ford.
The other question, of course, is, will it last?
Is this new Ford here to stay, or is it a passing phase, like the moon?
The Flamboyant tree is aptly named, with its massive umbrella-shaped span. It provides ample shade during hot days. Of course, it does nothing to reduce the dust, but you can’t have everything.
Shade is important.
“Voila, madam.” Ford reappears and plops down next to me.
He’s so massive I feel the earth shudder a bit as he sits down.
“The snack is served.”
His attempt at a French accent is adorable.
Where was the reserved, cool and distant Ford?
Had the bad spirits come overnight and whisked him away?
Probably not, since it would have to be the good spirits that did the whisking, not the bad ones.
“And what, my good sir, do you have to offer?” I decide to humor him and play along, although I don’t do the French accent.
“Ah, I’m pleased you ask.” He takes a little bow, and waves his hand from left to right, like one of those sales people on television. “We have dried biscuit, dried fruit, and if you’re after something extra special, we have dried biscuit.”
I burst out laughing.
Ford reels back and does his best attempt to look wounded.
“You laugh at my delicacies?”
With a shake of my head, I put my hand on his arm.
Instantly, the temperature turns up a few degrees, from fifty to a hundred.
His eyes are serious, and he stares at me with such intensity that I think he’s looking directly into my soul.
Suddenly, it is as if we’re all alone in this universe.
We’re two ships sailing in a vast ocean; whereas before, we were sailing in opposite directions, our course has changed, and we have joined forces.
We are travelling as one.
A commotion at the village perimeter goes unnoticed by Ford. He keeps his eyes on me.
He leans toward me, and I mirror his movement.
We’re inches apart. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.
The breeze tugs at my hair, and Ford’s hand reaches forward to tuck the stray bits behind my ear again.
The gesture is so gentle, I’m surprised his big hands are capable of such a tender movement.
In anticipation of the kiss we’re bound to share, I pucker my lips.
Thud.
I reel back. My heart beats a million miles an hour in my chest.
Holy shit! What was that?
I look around, half-expecting injured bodies strewn on the ground all over me. But there’s nothing.
My eyes look for Ford.
He’s in exactly the same position he was in a few seconds ago.
Except now, he’s holding a well worn ball in his hands. And then I hear the village kids running to get their toy back.
Ford laughs.
He stands up and spends a few minutes kicking the ball with the kids.
I shake my head. My breathing is back under control, as is my heart.
For a second, I’d thought Ford’s prediction of an attack had come true.
“Look at them.” He laughs when he comes back.
This really is a new Ford.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Thanks for the break, but I better get back to it.” I smile at him, and quickly finish my tea and biscuit.
If I don’t get back to work now, I might start something I’ll regret later.
I mean, I told him last night how I felt about him during our school days.
He, on the other hand, made no such admission.
It might have brought us closer and led him to relax a little—but the fact that he doesn’t feel for me what I feel for him remains.
Chapter 16
Ford
Fuck, that woman gets to me.
It’s fun to tease her, but it’s damn frustrating when she keeps giving mixed signals. One moment, I can tell she’s all hot and bothered, the next she’s pulling away from me as if she doesn’t recognize me.
I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm my frustration while I pace.
I don’t know what’s really going on between the two of us. I know I want her, but at the same time, she’s my fucking charge.
If there’s one rule I stick to, it’s that I don’t get involved with the people I’m protecting. It’s a recipe for disaster, and I hate that shit.
As the battle inside my head rages on, a ruckus outside becomes louder and louder.
What the hell is going on out there?
I stop, then listen for signs of any possible danger.
The woman may have me confused and all tied up in knots, but I have a job to do, and I’m not about to neglect it.
It doesn’t sound like there’s any danger based on the voices I’m hearing. In any case, I hurry outside to get a visual on the situation.
Villagers are hurrying toward the end of the road. Others are standing by curiously to see who is coming.
“Help! Help!”
I see two young boys carrying a stretcher between them as they hurry towards my and Adelaide’s hut.
The two look familiar. As they come closer, I recognize that they’re from the next village.
When they stop in front of me, I see a woman lying on the stretcher.
Adelaide suddenly comes bursting out of the hut. Her face shows nothing except the professional veneer of a doctor about to treat a patient. I can see, though, by the tightness of her eyes that she’s worried.
“What happened?”
“She was in an accident. Her motorbike broke and threw her off. Her leg just snapped when she hit the ground,” one of the boys explained.
“Okay. Take her to the hospital so I can take a closer look and see how bad her leg really is.”
The boys carry the woman behind Adelaide. I bring up the rear.
Adelaide goes into full-blown d
octor mode. She’s pulled back the woman’s skirt to clean the scrapes on the leg and gently examines the injured body part.
“It doesn’t seem to be too bad. A simple splint after I reset the bones should do the trick,” she explains out loud to the room.
“You won’t be able to walk around too much, though,” she then tells the woman. “The leg needs to heal, and it won’t heal properly if you put weight on it. You’ll have to wait a few weeks before going back to work.”
The woman looks crushed to hear this. Adelaide consoles her as best she can while working to fix the leg. Once finished, Adelaide begins to clean up.
I walk over to her.
“What does she do for a living?” I ask curiously.
The woman must love her job if she looked that upset to hear her leg has put her out of commission for several weeks.
“She’s a midwife.”
Her expression is tight and worried.
“What’s wrong?”
She lets lose a heavy sigh. “She’s the only midwife close by. All the others are so far away, they aren’t much help in this region. I have a friend who lives in a village nearby who’s expecting any day now. Without the midwife to help her through the birth, I’m worried something bad may happen.”
“Murphy’s law,” I grunt. “If anything can go wrong, it will.”
She whips her head to look straight at me and give me a furious scowl. “Real encouraging there, you jackass.”
I shrug.
“Comes with the experiences I’ve endured through life,” I explain. “Anything and everything goes wrong especially when people are worried that something will go wrong. That’s life, Adelaide.”
“Whatever. You’re just pessimistic as shit. The least you could do is not have those negative thoughts around here. The people are struggling enough without you throwing all that bad juju around.”
“Bad juju?” I ask mockingly. The corner of my mouth lifts in a slight smirk.
She responds by glaring at me even harder.
“Yes! Bad juju!” she angrily says. “It’s a thing, and like I said, stop throwing it all out there in the universe. There’s no need nor want for that here, understand?”
She’s dead serious right now, isn’t she?
I nod and give a grunt.
“I mean it, Ford.”
“I got it, Adelaide. No more bad juju.”
She walks away. I give a low chuckle.
That night, I’m still smirking at her ridiculous belief in “bad juju.” The woman really is something else.