‘I can’t have children,’ she whispered against his lips, then with a quick, final hug she released him.
But he was not ready to let go.
‘Can’t? The accident? You know for sure?’
‘Ninety per cent sure,’ she said gently, and turned to greet their guide, who’d come to take them back to the border.
Kam forced his numbed mind to work enough to give orders to his legs, moving like a robot behind the pair. Once beyond the light at the entrance to the women’s tent, the dust still lingering in the air blocked out any moonlight or starlight, so they followed closely in the wake of the guide, their feet shuffling through drifts of sand and stumbling over piles of it in unexpected places.
Kam held the door for Jenny as she climbed into the car, but knew he couldn’t talk to her about this until they were alone.
Which didn’t stop him pondering the problem.
She’d lost a baby in the accident—what other damage might have been caused?
He felt his heart squeeze with pain at the thought—remembering Jenny with Rosana, remembering the love she felt for the little boys, her concern for Hamid. Jenny giving her love to other people’s children…
The guide dropped them back at the border and they crossed into the camp, and even in the dim night light they could see the sand piled against the tents, in some places women sweeping at it, trying to move it away.
‘It could make the whole camp disappear if it blew long enough,’ Jenny murmured as they looked around.
Just like that—normal conversation. Love, attraction, sex, whatever it had been put behind them—as far as she was concerned.
But what about him? He had all the symptoms she’d mentioned. The racing pulse, the hurting chest and the little flip of his heart when he’d seen her putting on her sandals at the women’s tent, although their time apart had only been a matter of minutes…
He wanted to talk about it, but she was pointing out the way the sand had built up against his vehicle and wondering if he’d be able to get it out.
‘You’ll be leaving, won’t you?’ Jen said, knowing he had a job to finish, hoping the sooner he left, the sooner her heart would start to heal.
Hoping the sooner he left, the less chance there was of revealing her feelings for him.
‘Tomorrow—I should go tomorrow,’ he told her, moving closer so she knew it wasn’t a departure time he wanted to talk about, but personal things.
‘That’s for the best,’ she told him, then turned towards him, looking up at him in the dim light, the moon nothing more than a suggestion in the still dusty air. ‘It was wonderful, Kam, and I’ll never forget what we had. Fun, challenge and adventure, all my desires rolled into one.’
‘ All your desires?’
‘All I’ve wished for since David’s death,’ she said, which was the truth as far as it went, but a truth that had changed when she’d met Kam.
He grasped her shoulders and gave her a little shake.
‘Not love? Have you banned love from your life because you lost one man you loved—because you suffered pain? Would you deny yourself the pleasure of it once again, just to avoid hurt? You talk to me of how empty my life must have been to have not loved, yet you’ve shut off your heart behind barriers, travelling the world, helping others, moving on, in case you become too attached to a particular place or person and in losing it or him or her, you’d hurt again. I thought you brave, courageous, but you’re not—you’re a coward, too afraid of the consequences to grasp at happiness.’
‘I can’t, Kam,’ she said, keeping her voice steady with an effort. Knowing she couldn’t say another word without breaking down, she walked into the big tent that was her home, clutching her arms across her chest to still her hammering, hurting heart.
Jen cradled Rosana in her arms as she watched the car approach, hoping as always it would stop before the tents so the dust that trailed it would not go into the clinic. Was it because she held Rosana again this morning that she remembered Kam’s arrival? The child weighed more now and chattered cheerfully, her life with the boys as guardians obviously suiting her.
And was she, Jen, thinking of Rosana to stop herself thinking of Kam, arriving like this in a far less shiny car only a little over a week ago?
She wasn’t going to answer that, mainly because thinking of Kam was a full-time occupation. They didn’t interfere with her work, but the memories were always there in the back of her mind, memories of warmth and laughter and his gentle touch along her scars.
You couldn’t see the new scars…
The dust settled and she realised this was a very different vehicle, splendidly large and shiny beneath its patina of dust. A figure emerged from the far side, a figure in a flowing white gown, hands upraised to secure the shiny black double braid that held his scarf in place.
Jen couldn’t help but stare. This was an image from fairy stories and fancy magazines, the tall, strong desert warrior in his snowy robes—his stance, his presence casting awe on all who saw him.
She smiled at the thought for the little boys, who’d come running when they’d heard the car, now stood back, heads bowing, something akin to fear on their faces. Then the figure knelt and held out his hands and the boys moved closer, smiling now, shyly touching his robes.
Kam!
Heart thudding, Jen held Rosana closer, the urge to flee tingling in her legs.
But she wouldn’t run away.
She and Kam were finished, they both understood that. Besides, another man had now emerged from the vehicle, a tall, tanned man who came closer, smiling at Jen, holding out his hand, his green eyes…
Had she been mistaken about the first man?
Had she got over Kam so quickly her heart didn’t thud and her stomach didn’t cramp and her breathing didn’t hitch in her throat when he approached?
‘You know I’m not him, don’t you?’ the man said.
Jenny whispered, ‘Arun?’
He nodded but looked a little put out.
‘I thought as you’d never seen him in his local gear you might not have known it was him. So why didn’t you, Dr Jenny Stapleton? We’re identical. Everyone mistakes us.’
Jen smiled at him.
‘You didn’t make my heart beat faster,’ she admitted, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders as she spoke, knowing he would understand it as a declaration of her love. ‘But if you tell Kam I said that, I’ll deny it.’
She glanced across to where the man who did make her heart beat faster had last been, but he’d disappeared, although a few of the boys were still there by the car.
‘I won’t tell Kam but I did suspect you must love him. From all I’ve heard—and, believe me, I’ve heard plenty—I suspected you might feel the same way about him as he feels about you. So why, Jenny Stapleton, won’t you marry him?’
Rosana was wriggling in her arms and the man who wasn’t Kam reached out and took her, murmuring gentle words to the child, making her clap her hands and giggle with delight.
‘He didn’t tell you?
The little boys—the blood brothers—appeared and took Rosana, and Arun followed Jen into the tent.
The women in there fell about in their eagerness to serve him, and watching Arun charm them Jen was glad it was Kam she loved, not him. Charm came less easily to Kam, he used respect in all his dealings and earned it in return.
She watched as Arun was served his coffee, and little sweetmeats and cakes were offered on a tray, then as the women withdrew, Jen raised her coffee-cup towards him.
‘Did you wear the full outfit today to impress the locals?’
‘Ouch!’ he said, and tried to look hurt, although his green eyes glinted with humour and she couldn’t help but like him.
‘Actually, it’s the full outfit because I’m on official business. We both are. We have an engineer with us and he’s going to check out the site for the best place to sink a well, then Kam and I are meeting with the chief across the border to discuss a trans-bo
rder arrangement for an aerial medical service and to work out a timetable for the refugees to return to their village.’
He paused, smiling at Jenny.
‘I understand you had not a little to do with the medical service suggestion.’
Jen shook her head, unable to believe it might be happening so quickly.
‘I didn’t think he’d do anything about it—not right away when he, and you, I suppose, have so many other pressing problems.’
Arun smiled again.
‘I think any suggestion you made would be acted on immediately, Jenny. And, anyway, the other pressing problems have become less pressing. Kam has agreed to take over the succession, our uncles have stepped down from their positions and government workers from within the various departments will take over their—Jenny! What’s wrong?’
She managed to put down her cup before the wooziness made her spill the contents, and she reached out for the ground to stop herself from fainting head first into the plate of cakes. Arun came swiftly to her side and steadied her, his strong arms holding her until the faintness passed.
‘I’m all right,’ she managed, but the words that had caused her faintness—Kam has agreed to take over the succession—echoed in her head, ripping out the last faint threads of hope she’d stupidly been clinging to.
‘It was—I…’
No words would come, for nothing could explain the emptiness inside her.
‘Tell me,’ Arun said, and suddenly Jenny knew that all she felt could no longer be contained within her pounding head, or hidden in her hurting heart.
‘Tell you what? That I love Kam? That’s easy to tell, Arun, because I do. With all my heart and soul and being. I never expected to feel love like that again then, bang, love suddenly slammed into me like a train. But it was Kam Rahman that I loved and I even began to hope he might love me back—it was like a miracle. Then he wasn’t Kam Rahman but had other names tacked on which made him heir to the throne of a sheikhdom, and that made everything impossible.’
She stopped, already having said more than she should have, worrying about Arun repeating it to Kam.
But Kam must surely know she loved him even if she hadn’t said it…
‘Go on,’ Arun said, and she looked at him, frowning, wondering what more there was to say.
‘Why impossible?’ he prompted. ‘And don’t tell me it’s because you’re a foreigner, because foreigners have been marrying into our family for centuries—where did you think Kam’s and my green eyes came from?’
‘It wasn’t just the foreigner thing,’ Jen admitted, sensing Arun wasn’t going to let it go and wanting to talk about it anyway. ‘I was eight months pregnant when we had the accident that killed my husband. I lost the baby as well and the damage caused at the time means I can’t have children.’
She tried a smile she knew was a bit wobbly on her lips.
‘A foreigner might have been OK, but a foreigner who can’t produce heirs? That would be impossible—I couldn’t do it to him. Marrying Kam when he already has so many problems to sort out, and when he, and you, are trying so desperately to pull Zaheer together after years of neglect. No, he needs a wife of the people, someone who understands what has to be done and can help and support him—someone who speaks the language, for a start!’
She paused, then added bleakly, ‘But most of all he needs someone who can give him sons!’
She shook her head and hoped the tears she knew were welling in her eyes didn’t overflow and go streaming down her cheeks, but when Arun put his arms around her and drew her close against his body, so she felt it could be Kam who was holding her one last time, she couldn’t hold them back.
But indulgence in such weakness couldn’t be allowed to go on, so she pulled away within a minute, straightening up, sniffing back the tears, swallowing the sad lump in her throat and asking him if he’d like to see the camp or the testing programme before they met the guide at the border in an hour.
‘I’d rather talk to you,’ Arun told her, but she shook her head.
‘I’ve already talked far too much,’ she said. ‘ Far too much! I’ll get over Kam and he—if he really loves me—will get over me, especially as he has to juggle his new role as ruler and his medical work, and life will go on for both of us. I’ve been told of an AIDS testing programme in Africa I can join when I finish here. It’s in place I’ve never been.’
‘Adventure, challenge, fun!’ Arun said, and Jen began to wonder just how much information brothers—twins—might share. Not all of it, she hoped…
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘It’s not for everyone, but it suits me.’
‘Suits you to run away.’
Arun spoke so sternly Jen stared at him.
‘I’m not running away,’ she said. ‘I’m moving on, as I always intended to.’
‘You are running away. You’re running away from love because it hurt you once before. You’re using the excuse of being a foreigner and not being able to have a child, but basically it’s because you’re a coward.’
‘You can’t say that!’ Jenny snapped, really annoyed with the man now. ‘You don’t even know me!’
‘No, and I don’t know that I want to, because I would have thought the woman Kam finally fell in love with had more guts.’
‘Guts?’ Jen echoed weakly, still annoyed but wondering what on earth Arun was getting at.
‘The guts to fight for him—to fight for happiness for both of you. So what if you can’t have children? In another fifty years—even thirty—inherited positions could well be a thing of the past.’
Jenny stared at Arun. Was he right? Was she gutless?
No! If Arun was right and Kam truly loved her, wouldn’t he be here? Wouldn’t she be talking to him rather than Arun? Wouldn’t he have wanted, on arrival, to speak to her, touch her, at least to hold her hand?
The fact that he was walking through the camp in search of a site for a well told her all she needed to know—duty came first for him and, sadly, that was how it should be.
The little boys arrived to tell them the guide was waiting, and Jen was relieved to set aside her doubts and follow her little friends towards the border. She introduced Arun to the guide and saw the proud man bow his head towards Arun, then open the car door for him. Jen opened the back door for herself, recognising her place in the local scheme of things—one of relative unimportance.
At the village over the border Arun translated ably, and Jen removed the stitches and pronounced her patient well, the baby beautiful, and all the pregnant women in sound health. Arun spoke again, but in his own language, and soon the women clustered around Jenny, leading her to a mat where tea and coffee were laid out, and plates laden with dates and other fruit and sweets set in the middle.
‘You will eat and enjoy the women’s company,’ a deep voice announced, and Jenny turned to see the chief in the doorway, Arun just beyond him. Another order was issued and the midwife took the baby to the chief who presented him proudly to Arun.
It seemed for ever before she heard male voices approaching the women’s tent and the chief appeared once again in the doorway.
‘You are ready to return?’
Jenny nodded, getting to her feet, thanking the women who had entertained and fed her, using the few words of Arabic she knew and hoping they were the right words. Then she walked to the doorway of the tent where the men waited just beyond the entrance, the chief in his usual black robe, Arun contrasting in his white. She bent to fasten a sandal, wobbling slightly as she did so. A strong hand reached out to steady her, and awareness shot like an arc of electricity right through her body.
‘Kam?’ she whispered, turning towards the man in the white gown who now held her steady.
He had come!
The white-clad figure nodded, his green eyes looking deep into hers.
‘Did you think I’d take your no and walk away?’ he said. ‘How could I when you’d taught me what love was like? I know you believe you’d do my position
harm by marrying me, but have you thought what harm you’d do my heart? Do you know what the only valid reason for not marrying me would be? That you didn’t love me.’
He turned her so he could study her face, and Jen realised the chief had moved away and they were alone.
‘Can you tell me that? Look me in the eyes and say it? I don’t think you can, Jenny, because I think you love me as much as I love you, and do you know how much that is? As boundless as the desert, that’s my love, as strong as the storm that brought us such delights, as incalculable as the number of grains of sand on which we stand. Do you think I would prefer a wife I didn’t love, or that I would not marry you because you couldn’t produce an heir? I have a brother who can do that, and cousins should Arun not marry. It is not an issue, Jenny, when set against the love I feel for you.’
He paused, then bent his head and kissed her thoroughly, withdrawing only far enough to question her again.
‘ Now tell me you don’t love me,’ he whispered, and Jen stared at him in confusion.
‘I do love you,’ she managed, ‘but it still seems wrong.’
‘How could it be wrong if love lies between us, Jenny? Is it not said that love will find a way? Love will find our way, and light our path, and lead us wherever life is meant to take us. So marry me and share the journey, share the joy that love will bring us, without thoughts of other things or regrets for what might have been. Just love, Jen, and you and me.’
Jenny snuggled closer to him.
‘You and me and however many thousands of people you rule over,’ she teased.
‘Well, yes, there’s them, and my family, and your family—but at the heart of it all is us.’
‘Us,’ Jen echoed, and felt all the turmoil she’d been feeling in her heart and head ease into happiness. ‘Us,’ she whispered again, reaching up to kiss Kam on the lips.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh Page 16