by Karin Baine
Peter didn’t usually take against people without due cause but when he talked about his ex-brother-in-law it had never been with any degree of affection. It would take a certain kind of someone to get him offside when he was such a people person. The sort who imagined he could do better than Emily. Idiot wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Joe thought of the guy but it was the only tag he could give him in the presence of children.
Although it was early days to be thinking of Peter and the schoolteacher as being in a serious relationship, leading to something more permanent, it certainly seemed to be heading that way. It caused him mixed emotions. He was happy to see his friend in such a great place after struggling with his faith in the aftermath of Afghanistan and it meant he himself was no longer obligated to stick around as his sole support system. Peter settled down would give him the freedom to move on to his next adventure free from residual responsibility that kept him tied to his old army pal. It certainly shouldn’t create the extra hole in his heart and a pang for the life he’d never have.
He couldn’t afford to have a wife and children relying on him when he couldn’t even depend on himself, on his own emotions. He’d heard somewhere that grief was the price you paid for loving someone but he really didn’t want to go through it again. He’d loved Batesy and Ste like brothers, grieved for them as part of his army family, and shouldered responsibility for their loss as any other medic who’d lost patients would have. It was impossible not to become that close to anyone and not feel compassion again. He was risking his heart and his sanity by remaining in the medical field but it was still his calling. These pop-up clinics were a compromise, his answer to preventing further long-term damage to his soul while still being able to treat those in desperate need. Listening to Emily’s tale of marriage woe was enough to strengthen his resolve on the matter. Commitment to anything beyond a casual arrangement did more harm than good.
Hence this afternoon’s impromptu alfresco lunch. Working side by side in that hut had not only led to inadvertent body contact but a growing admiration for his co-worker. This morning had shone a light on her professionalism in what had been a highly emotive and dramatic case, the like of which she probably wasn’t used to in her day job. He shouldn’t be surprised, she was a qualified doctor after all, but he’d clearly been thinking about her in a less than professional manner.
Romantic picnics in the park weren’t going to help get his mind back in the game but the clinic idea at the school had helped re-establish the boundaries of their relationship. For the past couple of hours they’d been busy chatting to the children and making sure they were all in tip-top health, with Emily on one side of the room and him on the other. Except now her queue of children had come to an end and she was making her way over to his table.
‘Well, Dr Braden, anything to report?’ She was totally at ease here. He could see it in her relaxed body language and the big smile on her lips.
He should really quit paying attention to what her lips were doing at any given moment. It wouldn’t help him forget how they felt against his: soft, pliant, agreeable...
There was no way he trusted himself not to try and experience it again if they were holed up in that close space for another two weeks.
‘Just another A-star pupil.’ He gave his last patient a high five and watched him run off with his last excuse to hang around.
‘They’re a pretty happy, healthy bunch all round.’
‘And more than willing to have a bit of fuss from the glamorous new doctor.’ He hadn’t missed the girls’ fascination with her blonde hair, or the fact she’d let them braid it while she’d worked. The boys too had been more interested in what was going on at that side of the room, which had made their eye checks challenging.
Emily’s laughter reached right in and twisted his insides. It was the first time he’d heard it since her arrival and he knew he wanted to hear more of it.
‘Glamorous isn’t the word I’d use right now.’ She was finger-brushing the various plaits and knots her army of hairdressers had created, leaving her tresses wavy and unkempt and looking a lot like bed hair.
It conjured up images of her in the morning, in bed, and brought a lot more adjectives to describe her that weren’t appropriate in a classroom. Joe had to turn away and pack away the ophthalmoscope and otoscope he’d been using to check the children’s eyes and ears before he said or did something stupid. Again.
‘Thank you for doing this.’ Keresi interrupted Joe’s wayward thoughts to shake hands with him and Emily.
‘Thanks for letting us disrupt your lessons today. We’re going to take our travelling sideshow further afield but I’m sure you could get Peter to track us down in an emergency.’ He’d disappeared during their clinic but Joe had a hunch he’d return before the end of the school day.
‘Since when?’ Emily’s mouth flattened out into an unimpressed line once they were alone again. Her mouth was puckered now, her turquoise eyes blazing with flecks of amber fire and her arms folded across her chest as she made her disapproval known. He supposed it would be totally out of order to comment on how hot she looked.
‘We’ve had such a great response here I thought we could venture further around the village with our mobile clinic. A meet and greet with those who might be too busy to attend isn’t a bad idea.’ In the army he’d learned to think on his feet, and forced with their imminent return to the claustrophobic hub of medical operations he’d made an executive decision. Not to.
‘You really need to stop making decisions for other people. You’re not in the army now and you’re certainly not my superior,’ Emily huffed, as she made the scarily accurate call about his thought process. He was railroading her into taking a trail away from his temporary lodgings when they were supposed to be equal partners but separating her from his bed space would be beneficial to them both in the long run.
‘Sorry, I’m not used to working with a partner. I should have asked if you would prefer to spend the afternoon bumping into each other and waiting for people to show up or go out and drum up some interest in your clinic.’ He didn’t think of it as emotional blackmail, more as forward planning. Once Emily had her own patients set up they could alternate between running both static and mobile practices. With some organisation he could engineer the rest of her stay so they spent minimal time in each other’s company.
‘When you put it like that I guess it’s a no-brainer.’ She stuck her tongue out at him in a manner more like that of a friend than a professional colleague. Definitely time to make that distinction between them. There wasn’t room in his life even for a friend. He already had one more than he needed. It was the only reason he’d stayed on Yasi as long as he had. He would never have stood back and ignored Peter’s pleas for help out here when he still felt as though he had a huge debt to repay. As soon as his stint here was over and all necessary referrals to the hospital on the mainland had been made, he was gone. Ready to disappear into anonymity again and start over somewhere where they didn’t know his history.
Their stroll through the village in the daylight was taken at a more leisurely pace than last night’s constitutional. Out here in public view with the sights and sounds of island life around them somehow felt less intense, safer. Even if it hadn’t taken away the urge to kiss her.
‘What’s that growing on the roof up there?’ Emily pointed at the rows of brown string covering which, to the untrained eye, could’ve been mistaken for decaying foliage.
‘That’s coconut husk. They dry the strands in the sun before they braid it. Magimagi is the main source of income here. Children are taught the skill from a very early age. Unfortunately, even with all the hard work that goes into it, it sells for a pittance. You’re talking only a few dollars for about twenty-five yards of handmade rope.’
‘Wow. I don’t know whether to admire the work ethos or pity the folks who do it. I’ll neve
r complain about my long hours again. At least I get paid a living wage.’
‘Both. It’s part and parcel of living here. Unless you’re a blow-in, of course, who’s benefiting from the local hospitality.’
‘Don’t make me feel any guiltier about accepting food and lodging than I already do.’
Her genuine outrage made him chuckle. Emily would no more take advantage of people than her generous-spirited stepbrother. From what he’d gathered about her personal life, he suspected it was probably the other way around. It would be so easily for a manipulative sort to tie her soft heart into knots to suit their own agenda. She’d had enough of that in her life for him to do the same. His actions were merely to protect her as well as himself.
‘I’m only joking. Everything given to you here is simply payment for all the work you’re doing to help the community. Think of that as your wages, then there’s no need to feel guilty.’ At least, that’s how he viewed it when the doubts crept in about accepting so much from those who had so little. It wasn’t as though rejecting their gifts of friendship was an option when it would cause even greater offence.
‘I’ll try to remember that,’ she said, a tad more brightly, clearly never having considered the work she was doing here as anything more than the job she was born to do. That humility made her all the more special.
She had that same warrior spirit of every man he’d ever fought alongside—selflessly giving of herself without expecting anything in return. Unfortunately she didn’t recognise her own strengths, only her weaknesses. The sooner she found them herself, the sooner he’d be off the hook.
‘You should. You’ll definitely earn your keep over the next two weeks. The community as a whole will make the most of having qualified medical personnel, even if there are a few too busy trying to make a living to visit.’
‘The magimagi weavers?’
‘And the rest of the arts and crafts community. The economy here is based on the sale of handmade goods such as wooden sculptures and woven mats. If you’re lucky you might get to try making some for yourself.’ He was counting on it. Okay, so his service to the community wasn’t as selfless as Emily’s. He’d been part of the scenery here long enough to know that taking her out to that part of the island would be another excuse for a social gathering.
Not only was he spreading the word about the clinic by introducing her but it would certainly help them pass the afternoon. In company.
* * *
Emily knew exactly what Joe was up to. He was trying to get her out of his way, palm her off onto someone else. It was the only plausible explanation as to why he was so reluctant they return to what was supposed to be their base of operations. She didn’t totally buy this notion of extending personal invitations to her practice when news seemed to travel so quickly across the island anyway.
The kava ceremony was supposed to have been her introduction to society and unless he was using this to ensure he had a dinner invitation too, it felt like a futile exercise. She was only going along with it so she could get a bearing on her surroundings and those she’d be potentially treating. Once she’d established her own list of patients and could manage a conversation without an introduction from her self-appointed leader, she could stop relying on him to get her through this. She wasn’t swapping one man-sized crutch for another. This was no journey of self-discovery if Joe was always there showing her the way.
He was a man who craved excitement, thrived on it. The more he did for her, smoothed the way for her, the less interesting she would become to him. As they spent more time together the last thing she wanted was for him to find her just as boring as her husband had.
She’d come here with the idea of reinventing herself as a fearless trailblazer, an inspiration to life’s other rejects too afraid to step back out into the sun, only to find herself falling into step behind Joe and following that safe path.
With the warmth of the islanders she was beginning to shed her nerves. There’d been nothing but support for her so far and this morning’s drama, although traumatic, had proved her professional worth. The children had been wonderful too, and although another random house call could be seen as skiving she was kind of looking forward to it.
Ten-minute appointments with patients passing through her office on a conveyor belt was frustrating to say the least. At least here she wasn’t restrained by time limits or budget; she was free to diagnose and treat anyone who needed her help.
The way of life here was so fascinating and such a far cry from the frantic digital age where she spent more time on the phone or answering emails than getting to know the people she was treating. Time out here had a different meaning, more significance, and gave her extra opportunities to be the best doctor she could be.
‘They do say hobbies are a great way to relieve stress. Perhaps I’ll find a new creative outlet for my frustrations and irritations.’ She batted her eyelashes and smiled a saccharine-sweet smile, enjoying Joe’s obvious bewilderment at her sudden compliance.
When it came to interpreting her thoughts and feelings regarding her chaperon she was just as confused. Apart from her own neuroses, he was the main stumbling block between her and her new super-identity. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate having him as a safety net at times, knowing she could rely on him if she needed support. Plus he was great eye candy. She might have put her heart under lock and key but that didn’t mean she was made of stone. She could still appreciate the sight of a perfect male specimen. Especially one flashing his rippling torso as he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow.
Shallow. So very shallow. She of all people should’ve resisted objectifying another human being but that flat, toned body deserved recognition. Hell, it deserved its own social media account. She fanned herself with her hand. The heat was starting to get to her and it wasn’t entirely down to the fires lining their path through the encampment.
When she managed to drag her gaze away from his midsection and back up to meet his eyes she could see he was more amused than appalled by her visual appreciation.
Busted.
‘So, what do they do here?’ She coughed away the stirrings his naked chest had caused with a question about the other sights of interest. Okay, steaming pans and bubbling pots weren’t nearly as interesting as cheese-grater abs but were infinitely less likely to get her burned.
‘This is where they boil the pandanus leaves to make them soft enough to weave. They fade from green to white once they’re left to dry in the sun before the cloth they make is painted to make colourful mats. It’s quite an art.’ Joe gave her a quick run-down of the process, displaying more local knowledge than a mere tourist should be privy to.
He might claim to have no attachment to Yasi other than another pin tack on his wall map but it had already become a part of him. Emily wondered if its mystical healing powers would work on her too. Her brother had certainly found his peace on the island and Joe was way too involved in the way of life for someone who’d probably been strong-armed into volunteering here in the first place. If all her wishes came true too this magical isle would conjure up her own successful, independent practice and someone other than her stepbrother who loved her and accepted her for who she was.
The second of those was never going to happen since there was no way in hell she’d forgo her camouflage and let anyone see the real her. The best she could hope for was a holiday tan and a good time. After the last year she was willing to settle for that.
He introduced her to Sou and a few of her friends, sitting cross-legged on the floor painting the mats. They welcomed her and immediately invited her to stop clutching her medical bag as though she’d come to sell them encyclopaedias and join them.
Furniture was overrated anyway. Along with the internet and hot running water. And abs. A girl could live without all of them. If she had to.
She didn�
��t want to interrupt their working day but they were keen to start a new mat in her honour and have her be a part of it.
‘What kind of paint is this?’ she asked as the ladies coloured black geometric shapes with earthy red tones.
‘The black is made from ash and coal from the fire mixed with water. It can be messy.’ Sou gave her a toothy smile as she prepared the primitive materials in a bowl with her hands.
‘The red is actually from clay found on the island. It’s scraped and rinsed with water to create various shades.’ Although this activity appeared to be primarily women’s work, Joe happily took up a place beside her on the floor.
‘You’ve done this before?’ Was there anything left for her to explore on the island that he hadn’t already laid claim to? She wanted to be annoyed at the unintentional one-upmanship but it was impossible when he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. And she’d thoroughly inspected it.
He didn’t seem to care about losing face at sitting in the midst of all the women, when his joy at sharing his newly acquired skill with her was plain to see.
This mat-painting session was Yasi’s equivalent to a coffee morning, as Emily soon found out. The ladies spent their time swapping anecdotes and chatting among themselves but she was finding it tough to pay attention to everything going on around her when her gaze was locked onto that of the smiling hunk next to her.
‘You dip your finger in the clay mixture.’ He took her hand in his and pressed her fingertip firmly into the red sludge. ‘Then it’s simply a matter of colouring between the lines.’ He leaned across to guide her between the thick black outlines.
His breath was hot against her neck and her own was caught somewhere between a squeak and a squeal as it brought goose-bumps along her skin. Somehow she managed to daub enough paint on to fill the small triangle she’d been assigned. Amazing when his touch had turned her into a ragdoll with no control over her floppy limbs except by his hand.