‘Which makes the sixth case of confirmed measles we’ve had since last week.’
Measles—who had measles, real, honest-to-goodness measles? she wondered in dismay as Ezra added more milk to his coffee. Dammit, what in the world was happening to her? She’d never let her mind wander at work before, and now she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
‘You’re…ah…absolutely sure it’s measles?’ she hazarded, hoping he might give her more information, and to her relief he did.
‘Jess, I might never have been a GP, but I think even I can recognise the rash.’ He smiled. ‘And I can assure you, Robin Clark definitely has measles. A very bad attack, too. He has an infection of the middle ear with quite a severe discharge of pus, so I’ve started him on antibiotics.’
‘How’s his chest? He was always a bit bronchial, even when he was a baby.’
‘At the moment it’s clear, but I’ve told his mother to phone us right away if he develops a wheezy cough with phlegm. I also told her—’
Jess never did find out what Ezra had told Robin’s mother. The door of her consulting room suddenly opened, and Cath appeared, scarlet-cheeked with embarrassment, with Tracy at her side.
‘Jess, what am I going to do?’ she exclaimed. ‘I was sure I’d ordered more of the diphtheria, pertussis and tetanus triple vaccine. Tracy said we were low on it, and I remember phoning the rep, quoting the reference number—only I’ve obviously quoted the wrong reference number. And it’s my mums and babies group tomorrow, and—’
‘What, exactly, has happened, Cath?’ Jess interrupted, totally bewildered.
‘The order arrived this morning—’
‘It was in the box I was carrying when I met you in the corridor, Jess,’ Tracy chipped in helpfully.
Jess remembered. She also remembered what had happened shortly before Tracy had appeared, and preferred not to.
‘But when Tracy unpacked it…’ Tears of mortification welled in Cath’s eyes. ‘It was full of condoms. Twenty-four dozen packets of condoms!’
Tracy smothered a giggle, Jess bit down hard on her lip to prevent herself from joining in, and it was left to Ezra to say, ‘Look on the bright side, Cath. If there’s an all-night rave in the village hall this weekend, at least we’re not going to run out.’
‘It’s not funny, Ezra!’ the receptionist protested. ‘I’ve been hammering away at my mums and babies group for the last six months, trying to convince them of the benefits of immunisation, and now—when I’ve actually got eight of them to agree—I can’t vaccinate more than two of them!’
‘Have you tried faxing the company, asking them to send the vaccine by special delivery?’ Jess suggested.
‘They can’t guarantee it will arrive for tomorrow,’ Cath exclaimed. ‘Not with us living on an island.’
So there was nothing they could do. Nothing but hope that if the vaccine didn’t turn up in time the mums would be prepared to wait.
‘Do you think I should go after her?’ Ezra murmured in a concerned undertone as Cath disappeared back out the door. ‘Maybe that joke wasn’t very helpful…’
‘You were only trying to make her laugh,’ Jess said reassuringly, ‘and I’m sure she’ll understand once she calms down. The trouble is, everything seems to be getting on top of her lately.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve noticed.’
And me giving her an earful earlier probably didn’t help, Jess thought guiltily. Well, she’d simply have to apologise. Again. In fact, now she came to think of it, the only member of staff she hadn’t managed to hurt or offend over the last three weeks was Tracy, and she had a horrible feeling it was only a matter of time.
Actually, probably a very short time, she realised irritably, seeing the girl flutter her eyelashes at Ezra when she handed him his list of home visits.
‘He’s terrific, isn’t he?’ Tracy sighed the minute Ezra had gone. ‘So dark, so tall, so masterful.’
Jess thought so, too, but never would she have admitted it.
‘I thought you and Danny were dating?’ she said instead, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt.
‘Not any more. Danny…’ Tracy waved her hand dismissively. ‘He’s just a boy, whereas Ezra’s a man, if you know what I mean.’
Jess rather thought she did. Just as she also now understood why Danny had taken to hanging around the surgery, looking distinctly woebegone.
Not that Ezra had ever given Tracy any encouragement. In fact, Jess strongly suspected he regarded their junior receptionist as simply a bubbly, bouncy, slightly scatty teenager, but teenagers’ hearts could be broken. So could a thirty-two-year-old woman’s, if she was stupid and lonely.
And that, she decided, as she began ploughing through her paperwork, was what was wrong with her. She was lonely. For the last three years she’d had no social life—had never found time to fit one in—so when the burden of her work was lessened who was she most likely to become attracted to? A man she saw every day.
Her conviction that she’d finally discovered the answer to the disturbing feelings which kept plaguing her lasted for the rest of the afternoon. Remained firmly in place even when Ezra drove her home. And then completely fell apart when he suddenly smiled at her halfway through dinner and her heart flipped over in a depressingly familiar fashion.
So much for it simply being loneliness and proximity, she thought with a deep sigh when she went to bed. So much for there being a totally rational explanation. When it came right down to it, she was as silly as Tracy.
Well, it was stopping right now, she told herself. No more wimpy, pathetic Jess Arden. Welcome back, the old tough Jess Arden who would never have allowed herself to be distracted and confused by a pair of deep grey eyes and a slightly crooked smile.
And on that positive note she fell asleep, only to wake less than three hours later to find Ezra standing by her bed.
‘What is it—what’s wrong?’ she asked, her bleary eyes taking in his obviously hastily thrown-on sweater and denims.
‘Denise Fullarton’s bleeding. I’d go myself but she’s specifically asked for you.’
Jess’s heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. Denise was ten weeks pregnant, and she was bleeding, which probably meant she was losing her baby. Her fourth baby.
‘Can you manage?’ Ezra continued, seeing her wince as she levered herself upright.
She couldn’t, not with the speed she knew was necessary at a time like this, but…
‘Jess.’ He both sounded and looked impatient. ‘We have to hurry. Can you get up and dressed quickly by yourself, or not?’
She bit her lip, hating to ask him for help, but knowing there was no alternative. ‘Not really, no.’
‘OK, what clothes do you need?’
‘Bra, knickers, sweater and skirt. I can get the bra and sweater on by myself,’ she continued, watching him as he hurried to her chest of drawers, ‘and if you bring me the brown skirt with the buttons down the front I can manage that, but…’ Her cheeks flamed with colour, and she swallowed hard. Get it over with, Jess, she told herself. You’re the old, tough Jess, remember. Tell him what you need him to do, and get it over with. ‘It’s…it’s my knickers. I can’t bend my leg, you see—’
‘You want me to put on your knickers?’ he interrupted faintly.
‘N-not a-all the way up,’ she stammered, wishing she could see his face, but he was still rummaging through her chest of drawers. Actually, no, he wasn’t. He’d stopped, but he hadn’t turned round. ‘I just—If you could just slip them up over my knees a little bit, I’ll be able to pull them up the rest of the way myself.’
He muttered something, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
‘Ezra—’
‘Knickers, bra, sweater, skirt.’ He slammed the chest of drawers shut. ‘Right. No problem. Got them.’
And I want to be anywhere but here, Jess thought when he came back to the bed and knelt down in front of her.
You can do this, she told herse
lf as he lifted one of her feet and slipped it through her knickers. Just think of something else and pretend it isn’t really happening to you.
But how to think of something else when the baggy T-shirt she normally wore to bed kept riding up despite her best efforts to prevent it? How to ignore the gentle touch of his fingers against her bare skin as he slipped her knickers slowly upwards, sending shivers of sensation through her entire body, tightening her chest wall? And how—how—to pretend his dark head wasn’t almost resting in her lap and his hands weren’t inching closer and closer to an area of her body which she normally barely registered and yet now was all too acutely and devastatingly aware of?
‘Is…is that far enough, or do you need me to pull them higher?’
His voice sounded slightly choked, constricted, and she knew without looking that his gaze was fixed firmly on her duvet cover as though pink roses in wicker baskets were the most riveting sight in the world.
‘I can manage now, thank you,’ she replied in a rush, her own eyes fixed desperately on the wall opposite.
‘Right. I…I’ll get the car started while you put on the rest of your clothes,’ he muttered, and before she could answer he was gone.
Not that she could have said anything if she’d tried.
Lord, she’d never been so embarrassed in her whole life. Embarrassed, and vulnerable, and exposed. And to be fair to Ezra, he’d got her knickers on as quickly as he could. No deliberate fumbling, no smart remarks. Many men in his position would have taken advantage of the situation, but he hadn’t. Not even a little bit, she thought wistfully.
Oh, get a grip, Jess, she told herself, pulling on her sweater, then angrily buttoning up her skirt. You should be relieved he didn’t take advantage. You should be thanking your lucky stars he’s a gentleman.
And she was—sort of—but…
But nothing, she decided, reaching for her crutches. Right now Denise is your main priority, not your own adolescent fantasies. Denise needs you, and so does her husband.
Alec Fullarton clearly did need her by the time Ezra had driven them down to Inverlairg.
‘Oh, Jess, thank God you’re here!’ he exclaimed, his face chalk white with distress and fear. ‘When she started to bleed, I thought, if she starts crying I can cope with that. Even if she goes hysterical like she did the last time—well, I’ll have to deal with it—but she’s just lying there, not saying anything, and it’s scaring the hell out of me!’
‘Is she bleeding badly, Alec?’ Jess asked, following him down the corridor as quickly as she could.
‘Not as much as she did the last time.’
‘And the blood—is it bright red, or dark in colour? I know you don’t want to think about it,’ she continued, seeing a flash of pain and anger cross his face, ‘but it’s important.’
‘I know. It’s just…’ He shook his head. ‘It’s sort of darkish in colour—definitely not bright red.’
Jess glanced across at Ezra. That sounded hopeful. If the bleeding wasn’t severe, or the tell-tale bright red which usually signalled that the uterus was beginning to expel the foetus, Denise might not actually be miscarrying.
Denise clearly believed she was.
‘It’s happening again, isn’t it?’ she said, her voice flat, devoid of all emotion. ‘I’m losing another baby, aren’t I?’
‘I think you should let us be the best judge of that, don’t you?’ Jess said gently. ‘How’s your back—any pain there?’
Denise shook her head.
‘No sign of any blood clots either,’ Ezra murmured when he pulled back Denise’s bedclothes and crouched down beside her.
‘What about the cervix?’ Jess asked, wishing she could get down beside him but knowing she’d undoubtedly fall over if she tried to.
‘Still closed.’
Better and better. If the cervix had started to dilate, a miscarriage was inevitable, but if it stayed shut…
Ezra replaced the bedclothes and stood up. ‘Mrs Fullarton, I don’t think you’re miscarrying. The bleeding seems to have stopped—’
‘Because I’m not pregnant any more, that’s why,’ she interrupted. ‘Jess, tell him he doesn’t need to lie to me. I’ve been this way far too many times.’
Jess didn’t get the chance to say anything. Ezra took Denise’s hand in his and forced her to look up at him.
‘Mrs Fullarton—Denise—I’m not lying. If you want, I can call out the air ambulance to have you taken to the mainland for an ultrasound to confirm you’re still pregnant, but frankly I don’t see the necessity.’
‘But the bleeding,’ she protested. ‘Surely that means I’ve lost the baby?’
He shook his head. ‘Bleeding during pregnancy doesn’t always indicate a miscarriage. You could have cervical erosion, or simply a low placental implantation.’ He smiled as Denise gazed up at him uncertainly, a warm, gentle smile of encouragement and reassurance. ‘A cervical erosion simply means your cervix is more fragile than most women’s, and a low placental implantation is doctor-speak for your baby being situated rather low in your tummy.’
‘Then…then you think I’m still pregnant?’ Denise whispered, her bottom lip suddenly starting to tremble.
‘I know you’re still pregnant,’ he declared.
He was learning, Jess thought, watching him. Three weeks ago—even one week—he would have bewildered Denise with medical fact and jargon. Now he was relying solely on her trust in him, and it was working.
‘Do you think she might actually manage to carry the baby to full term this time?’ she asked when they eventually drove away from the Fullartons’, leaving Denise with strict instructions to remain in bed until further notice.
‘Her track record’s abysmal, but miracles do happen. If we can just get her past the next two weeks and get a stitch in her cervix to keep it closed, we could then start giving her uterine relaxants to keep the pressure off her cervix. Then she might just make it.’
‘Might being the operative word,’ Jess sighed, staring gloomily out into the darkness.
‘Hey, what’s happened to my little optimist?’
She glanced round to see he was smiling at her and, try as she might, she couldn’t stop her own lips curving in response.
Oh, damn. Damn, damn and triple damn.
This had to stop. It really, really had to stop. The way her heart kept skipping a beat, the way she felt all warm, and expectant, and tingly—it was stupid, ridiculous. People walked away from unhappy love affairs and marriages all the time. Well, she couldn’t walk away. Not yet, when she needed Ezra’s help with the practice. But she sure as heck could start distancing herself. Quite how, she wasn’t exactly sure, but there had to be a way. There must!
CHAPTER SIX
THERE was, and it was so easy Jess wondered why she’d never thought of it before. All she had to do to prevent those stomach-churning moments was to avoid eye contact. No eye contact, no leapfrogging heart. No eye contact, no peculiar sensations. And it was working, too. Since Denise’s threatened miscarriage three days ago she hadn’t had one uncomfortable moment.
It was all a question of strategy. Of pinpointing potentially tricky moments and taking evasive action.
Like the coffee-break she shared with Ezra after morning surgery. If she aimed her comments at his left ear, it worked a treat. Being alone with him at home was more difficult, but waiting until the last possible moment to have breakfast had proved a winner. And as for dinner—well, she could always use her leg as an excuse to go to bed early.
Not that she needed an excuse, Jess thought ruefully, uncomfortably shifting her weight as she bent over Grace Henderson to take her blood pressure. Her leg still hurt. Not as much as when she’d fractured it three weeks ago, but enough for her to look forward to crawling into bed at the end of the day.
‘How much longer are you going to be in plaster, dear?’ Grace asked, watching her with considerable sympathy.
‘Some weeks yet, I’m afraid,’ Jess murmured, listenin
g intently to the steady flow of Grace’s blood.
‘It’s amazing, how one little accident can turn your life upside down, isn’t it?’
Especially if that accident was caused by a man like Ezra Dunbar, Jess thought with an inward sigh.
‘I’m so pleased Mairi eventually came to see you,’ Grace continued. ‘Normally I don’t hold with snooping on your neighbours—live and let live has always been my motto—but I could see she wasn’t right.’
‘I’m sure Mairi doesn’t think you were snooping,’ Jess said reassuringly.
‘She said she didn’t.’ Mrs Henderson nodded. ‘She also seems to have taken a real shine to your Dr Dunbar—always singing his praises, she is.’
‘That’s nice,’ Jess said noncommittally.
‘Will she have to wait long for the results of her tests? She told me she’s not worried about them, but…well, it’s only human nature to worry, isn’t it, dear?’
‘It is, and I’m sure they’ll be back soon.’ In fact, Jess had expected them the previous day. Usually when she put an ‘Urgent’ sticker on samples the infirmary lab was quick to respond, but this time… ‘Your blood pressure’s fine, Grace. Exactly the same as last month.’
Grace beamed with relief. ‘Thank goodness for that. I certainly don’t want another unscheduled trip to the mainland.’
Jess didn’t want one either, especially at this time of year. They had been lucky so far this winter—only a few sharp frosts and a little sleet—but it was only the beginning of February and the last thing she wanted was an emergency and no way of getting the patient to the mainland.
‘Do you need more of your angina pills, Grace?’
‘You’d better give me a repeat prescription, dear. I don’t want to run out.’
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