Summer Fling

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘Thanks for spending so much time with them,’ she said quickly, making for the door. She needed to escape. The effect he had on her was profoundly unsettling, but it was clear that he didn’t feel the same way and the sooner she came to terms with that, the better for both of them. ‘I need to get on.’

  ‘Kyla, wait.’

  She didn’t turn but her grip tightened on the doorhandle. ‘Not now, Ethan,’ she said quietly, keeping her eyes forward. Looking ahead. ‘As you said yourself, this isn’t the right time.’

  Ethan stared after her, feeling the frustration rise inside him.

  Why now?

  Why her and why now?

  He lifted a hand to the knot of his tie and loosened it with a vicious jerk as he cursed softly.

  He’d hurt her feelings. She thought he’d rejected her, and in a way he had, but only because he wasn’t in a position to do anything else.

  He turned and stared out of the window, watching the first threatening clouds appear in the sky.

  He could tell her the truth, of course. He could tell her who he was and why he was there.

  But he wasn’t able to do that yet.

  He wasn’t ready.

  There were still so many things that he didn’t understand and he needed time to work out the answers to all the questions he had. Then, maybe then, he could do something about Kyla MacNeil.

  Soon.

  She felt such a fool.

  Kyla slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, stealing a glance at the low black sports car parked next to her. It was sleek, sophisticated and exclusive. Like its owner, she thought sadly as she started her own car and pulled out of the medical centre car park.

  Ethan Walker would never fit into a place like this and he’d never be interested in a woman like her.

  She frowned slightly as she analysed her own thoughts. Pathetic, she decided crossly, changing gear with rather more force than was necessary. She was being completely pathetic and selling herself short. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for him, because she was. It was just that some relationships just weren’t meant to happen, and this was obviously one of those. Yes, there was chemistry. Amazing chemistry. But their lives were different. They appreciated different things. They were just—different.

  He drove a flashy sports car, he wore a suit to work—a suit that she guessed had probably cost more than two months of her salary.

  And while there was no doubt that he was an excellent doctor and good with the patients, it was also true that he held himself apart. He was—she searched for the word—aloof? Sometimes when he joined them at Logan’s for supper, she caught him watching them from the edges, almost as if he were studying them. But was that really so surprising?

  She thought of the little he’d told her about his childhood. About his parents who had divorced. About how they hadn’t been interested in him.

  What must he make of her big, noisy, involved family? Was it surprising that he found them worth studying? He probably found them completely perplexing.

  Kyla gave a sigh and decided to call in on Doug and Leslie. They needed the support and it would stop her dwelling on her own problems.

  She was going to stop wanting Ethan, she decided as she pressed her foot to the accelerator and sped down the country road that led inland to the McDonalds’ house.

  She was going to stop watching from the window when he ran on the beach in the early mornings, she was going to stop finding excuses to go into his surgery to talk to him and she was going to stop dreaming about that kiss.

  Everyone made mistakes, of course they did. But never let it be said that she didn’t learn from hers.

  Move on, Kyla.

  She pulled up outside the McDonald house and walked to the front door without bothering to lock her car.

  ‘Anyone home?’ The front door was open and she pushed it open and stuck her head through. ‘Hello?’

  Leslie walked out of the kitchen. ‘Come on in, Nurse MacNeil,’ she said briskly, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Your patient is just sitting in the garden but he’s been for a walk this afternoon, just like they said. Just a short one. Up and down the garden. The kettle’s hot if I can tempt you to a cup of tea.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Kyla said, following her into the kitchen. ‘Lunch feels like nothing more than a distant memory.’

  Leslie gave a cluck of disapproval. ‘You all work too hard in that surgery, but we’re grateful for it. I certainly don’t know where we’d all be without you.’ She hesitated. ‘Doug and I owe you so much—and that new doctor, too. The hospital was very impressed with the treatment Doug had with you. They said that you probably saved his life.’

  ‘We did our job, Leslie,’ Kyla said gently, ‘and you don’t owe us anything. It’s just good that Ben brought Doug to us so quickly.’

  Leslie nodded. ‘Ben’s a good man, no doubt about that. And now he’s short-staffed at the pub, of course.’

  ‘Ben will cope.’ Kyla looked out of the window and saw Doug staring across the garden. ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t had any more pain but he’s tired, of course. The hospital warned him that the drugs might make him tired. Said that Dr Walker could alter the dose if necessary.’

  ‘Yes.’ Kyla turned to her. ‘I meant mentally. Doug’s used to being very active. How is he coping with having to take it easy?’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t have much choice but I think he finds it frustrating.’ Leslie stared at her husband for a moment and then gave a bright smile. ‘Now, then. What was I doing? Tea. I’d offer you cake but when I came back from the hospital with Doug I went through the cupboards and threw out everything unhealthy. We’ve only fruit left to snack on.’

  ‘I don’t need cake, Leslie, thank you, and it’s good to know that you’re thinking about his diet.’

  Leslie dropped teabags into a pot. ‘Hard to think about anything else,’ she muttered, and Kyla stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Have you talked to anyone?’

  ‘Me?’ Leslie’s hand shook and she sloshed boiling water over the side of the teapot. ‘Why would I need to talk to anyone? I’m not the one who is sick.’

  ‘This happened to you as well as him,’ Kyla said quietly, taking the kettle from her and putting it safely back on the side. She reached for a cloth and mopped at the water. ‘It’s very stressful, seeing someone that you love suddenly taken ill. And you’ve had to stay strong for everyone. It must be incredibly hard.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Leslie said briskly, her smile just a little too bright. ‘You go on outside and check on Doug. I’ll join you in a minute.’

  ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you first.’

  ‘I’m not the ill one.’ Leslie folded a teatowel with almost obsessive attention to detail and then her face crumpled and she curled her fingers around the soft cloth and gripped it hard. ‘I keep waiting for him to die,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘Every time he gets out of that chair I want to stop him from moving just in case it causes a strain on his heart. I want to yell at him, “Don’t move,” and here they are telling him to start gentle exercise. They want him to do this cardiac rehab … something.’

  ‘Rehabilitation.’

  ‘That’s right. Rehabilitation.’ She sniffed. ‘But I don’t want him to lift a teacup, let alone exercise!’

  ‘Oh, Leslie.’ Her voice loaded with sympathy, Kyla stepped forward and gave the other woman a hug. ‘The rehabilitation programme is really important after a heart attack. I know it seems scary to you but it’s really important to gradually increase the amount of activity. They’ve looked at his age and his lifestyle and worked out what’s right for him. I spoke to the cardiac sister this morning and we discussed the programme that the unit want him to follow.’

  ‘He’s got a video and some leaflets. And he’s going to have to lose some of that weight.’

  Kyla nodded. ‘Yes, he is. But it’s not just about diet and exercise, Leslie. It’s abou
t giving emotional support to both of you. About helping you both rebuild your lives.’

  ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kyla’s voice was soft. ‘We’re here for you, Leslie. You know we are. Logan, Dr Walker, Evanna and I. We’re here. You’re not on your own.’

  ‘But you can’t guarantee it will be OK, can you? You can’t guarantee he won’t have another one.’

  ‘No,’ Kyla said honestly, ‘there are never any guarantees for anyone in this life. But we’re going to do our best. Many people go on to lead full and long lives after a heart attack.’

  ‘I can’t even bear to sleep at night in case he needs me.’

  ‘That’s natural, Leslie. It’s still very early days. You may not believe me now but that feeling will ease. You will grow more confident and both of you will eventually be back on your feet again. It won’t go away but you’ll be surprised how you manage to live with it. I’ve seen it happen before. I know at the moment this thing is dominating your lives, but as the weeks and months pass it will start to take more of a back seat.’

  ‘Will it? I just keep picturing him lying on that couch with the oxygen mask on his face. I keep hearing all those machines beeping. I keep thinking of our little Andrea being left without a father—’ Leslie broke off and covered her mouth with her hand, fighting back the tears.

  ‘She still has her father,’ Kyla said softly, ‘and what you have to remember is that everyone is looking out for you. Both the doctors here and the hospital will be monitoring Doug and that’s a good thing.’

  ‘I hated those machines beeping in the hospital.’ Leslie gave a humourless laugh. ‘Now I’m missing them. At least when they were beeping I knew he was alive.’

  ‘It’s natural to feel a bit insecure when you’re first discharged from hospital, but you’re not on your own, Leslie. That’s why we’re here.’

  ‘Leslie? Is that Kyla?’ Doug’s voice came from the garden and Leslie cleared her throat and turned on the tap to splash her face with cold water.

  ‘Don’t you go telling him I’m worried,’ she said gruffly, drying her face with a towel and straightening her dress. ‘I don’t want him having any extra anxiety.’

  ‘Do you think he doesn’t know? Of course he knows you’re worried!’ Kyla shook her head and smiled. ‘I’ll go and chat to him while you take a moment for yourself. Maybe you can bring that tea out when you’re ready.’

  ‘I’ll do that. And, Kyla …’ Leslie’s voice stopped her before she went through the back door.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you, lass. You’re a good girl.’

  Kyla buried herself in work in an attempt not to think about Ethan.

  She visited the McDonalds’ most days on her way home and popped in on Aisla to check on her. She filled her clinics to the brim and saw everyone who wanted to be seen, usually on the same day. At night she fell into bed, exhausted. And dreamed of Ethan.

  All his earlier reluctance to socialise with Logan and Kirsty seemed to have disappeared and he frequently joined Logan for supper, often in the garden and even turned up at Kirsty’s first birthday party with an oversized stuffed teddy, which the little girl loved.

  In order to avoid him, Kyla took to visiting Kirsty during the day and spending the occasional evening with her aunt who ran the café on the quay.

  ‘You’ve been visiting us more than usual,’ her aunt observed gently as she placed a bowl full of steaming home-made soup in front of Kyla. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Nothing at all.’ Kyla sniffed the bowl ‘Smells fantastic. Can you blame me for visiting? Given the choice of eating here or cooking for myself, there’s no contest.’

  ‘Kyla?’ Her aunt sat down opposite her, ignoring the customers who had just streamed into the café from the ferry. ‘I’ve known you all your life. There’s something the matter, I can tell.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘And does this “nothing” happen to wear a suit and drive a flashy sports car?’

  Kyla lifted her eyes from her soup. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t you? This is an island, Kyla. It’s hard for things to go on without anyone noticing.’ Her aunt’s voice was gentle as she stood up. ‘You’re entitled to your privacy, if that’s what you want. But I’m reminding you that even though your mum’s not around, you’ve still family here, Kyla Mary MacNeil. Family who love you. Don’t you forget that.’

  Kyla swallowed hard. ‘He isn’t interested, Aunty Meg.’

  ‘Strikes me that he’s a man with a great deal on his mind.’

  Kyla gave a lopsided smile. ‘You sound like Evanna. She thinks he has “issues”.’

  ‘Maybe he has. Maybe he just needs a bit of space to work a few things out and this is a good place for that.’

  Kyla shook her head. ‘I’m not pushing myself on him.’

  ‘So is that why you’re eating me out of house and home?’ Meg pushed some more bread towards her. ‘Because he’s spending time with your brother and you’re avoiding him?’

  Kyla felt guilty. ‘I love eating here and seeing you.’

  Meg gave a snort. ‘And do I need to be told that? Of course not. I’m not offended, lass, just worried about you.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine, really.’ Kyla stood up to give her aunt a hug. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Eat your supper.’ Her aunt squeezed her gently and then released her. ‘Before it gets cold.’

  She loved her family. Kyla finished her soup, wondering if everyone else had noticed that she was suddenly spending all her time at the café instead of just strolling into Logan’s garden in her usual fashion.

  She thought about it all that night and the next day and when Evanna invited her to join them for a picnic on the beach that evening, she agreed.

  She didn’t want Logan making sarcastic comments, she thought as she slipped her feet into sandals, grabbed a cool-box and strolled down onto the sand.

  Evanna was spreading a picnic out over a tartan rug while trying to control a thoroughly over-excited toddler. ‘Don’t eat sand,’ she scolded gently, but there was a smile on her face as she scooped the little girl onto her lap and cuddled her. ‘Go to your Aunty Kyla for a moment while I sort out the food.’

  ‘I bought some things. It’s just quiche and salad.’ Kyla put the cool-bag down by Evanna and stooped to kiss her niece.

  Logan strolled over to her, his body glistening with seawater. ‘It’s fresh.’

  ‘In other words, it’s freezing.’ Evanna laughed, handing him a towel. ‘Quick. Dry yourself off. We don’t want you developing hypothermia. It’s a bad advert for the practice.’

  Logan cast a questioning glance in Kyla’s direction. ‘Well, if it isn’t my long-lost sister. Where have you been all week?’ He dried himself and pulled a shirt over his head. ‘I’ve hardly seen you.’

  ‘I called in to see Aunty Meg a few times,’ Kyla said casually, eating a tomato and then pulling a face. ‘Ugh. Sand. Remind me whose idea was it to have a family picnic on the beach when it’s windy? It always sounds such a great idea, but then you start to eat and you realise that everything is crunchy because it’s full of sand. I think I prefer the garden.’ She looked up to say something to Logan and saw Ethan strolling towards them. The words stuck in her throat.

  ‘Kyla.’ Evanna’s voice was gentle. ‘You’re dropping food on the rug.’

  Flustered, Kyla glanced down and realised that her hands were shaking so much she’d dropped the tomatoes. ‘Sorry.’ She’d had no idea he was joining them. Her heart skipped and danced and she gave herself a severe telling-off.

  She’d avoided him for most of the week. She’d made a concerted effort not to look out of the window in the mornings and watch him run, and she’d even managed to forget about the kiss for at least five minutes at a stretch.

  She’d thought she was doing well.

  Only now, feeling her heart hammering hard against her chest, she kne
w that she wasn’t doing well at all.

  He affected her just as much as he ever had.

  ‘Sorry I’m a bit late.’ He was wearing cut-off shorts and a soft, loose T-shirt that had obviously been washed a million times. His jaw was dark with stubble, his eyes were tired, and Kyla thought she’d never seen a sexier man in her life.

  ‘Late? That’s a real city-boy remark. I don’t think you can be late for a picnic on a beach.’ Logan handed him a beer. ‘Here. You can drink. I’m on call tonight.’

  Ethan took the beer with a nod of thanks. ‘I hope you have a better night than I did.’

  Logan gave a wry smile and glanced at his daughter. ‘I probably won’t, actually, but for different reasons. I gather you were up several times.’

  ‘For a small island, they certainly keep you busy,’ Ethan drawled, lifting the beer to his lips, and Kyla found herself watching as he drank.

  That mouth had been on hers. Those hands had—

  Ethan caught her gaze and lowered the beer slowly, his eyes on hers. Neither of them spoke and the tension rose between them until Kyla was aware of nothing but him. She couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried, and she sensed that he was experiencing the same inner struggle.

  And then Kirsty crawled into her lap and reached for her hair.

  ‘Ow.’ The spell broken, Kyla gently prised open Kirsty’s chubby fist and removed her hair. ‘We need to teach you a new trick.’

  To her surprise, Ethan put down his beer and leaned towards Kirsty. ‘I’ll take her.’ He dropped down onto his haunches and smiled at the little girl.

  ‘Fancy a paddle in the waves?’

  Kirsty looked uncertain and when Ethan scooped her gently into his arms she went stiff and turned to look at Logan.

  ‘She’s a one-man woman,’ Logan said smugly, reaching out a hand and smoothing his daughter’s silky blonde curls to reassure her, but Ethan spoke softly to the child, pointed to a passing seagull, and Kirsty’s face broke into an approving smile.

  She forgot her reservations about the tall, dark stranger and with a gurgle of enthusiasm she grabbed a hunk of Ethan’s hair in her fist.

  ‘You’re in favour, Ethan,’ Evanna said cheerfully, reaching for the breadsticks. ‘She only pulls the hair out of people she really loves.’