by Sarah Morgan
‘Anna, this is Helen.’ Oliver nudged the girl gently into the consulting room. ‘She’s from London.’
‘London?’ The girl looked at Helen with an envious expression on her face. ‘You lucky thing. I’d do anything to go and live in London. Actually, I’d do anything to live anywhere but here.’
Oliver looked at Helen helplessly and she smiled. ‘I expect you have patients to see, Dr Hunter.’
‘I do.’ He gave her a grateful smile and left the room.
‘That man is seriously cool. He could give me the kiss of life any day.’ Anna stared after Oliver with a wistful expression on her face and then turned back to Helen. ‘I suppose you’re going to lecture me, so you might as well make a start.’
‘Is that what you think people do?’
‘All the time.’ Anna slouched in her chair, her expression defiant. ‘It’s always, “Anna have you done your peak flow?” or, “Anna have you got your inhaler?” just before I go clubbing. And it’s always while my friends are standing there.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’ Helen asked casually.
‘Embarrassed. Different. Like some sort of freak.’
‘Why don’t you tell me what happened on Friday?’
Anna shrugged and picked some imaginary fluff off her sleeve. ‘It was hockey. I’m good at hockey. We were winning and then suddenly I couldn’t breathe.’ She broke off and her eyes filled with tears. ‘And the next thing I knew they’d driven an ambulance onto the school field. It was the most humiliating experience of my life.’
‘Do you like hockey?’
‘Yes, and now I suppose you’re going to tell me I can’t do it because of my asthma.’
‘Not at all.’ Helen opened her door and reached for a pad and pen. ‘In fact, you shouldn’t have to limit your physical activity at all providing your asthma is controlled—but yours obviously isn’t. I like your shoes, by the way.’
Anna glanced down at her feet, obviously taken aback. ‘You do?’
‘They’re great. Everyone is wearing them in London.’
Anna looked at her suspiciously. ‘You’re different from the usual nurse. She was at school with my mother. You don’t look much older than me.’
‘I’m twenty-five,’ Helen told her, ‘so it isn’t that long since I was a teenager.’
Anna stared at her for a long moment. ‘It isn’t just the exercise that gets me.’
‘What else?’
‘There’s this boy.’ She bit her lip, her cheeks suddenly flushed. ‘He’s asked me out a few times but I keep saying no. He’s so cool,’ Anna breathed, ‘but how can I go out with him? He doesn’t know I have asthma. Where do I put an inhaler on a date?’
‘Well, it depends on the date,’ Helen said practically. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time. Why don’t you want him to know you have asthma?’
‘He’ll think I’m pathetic.’
‘Then he’s probably not that cool,’ Helen said gently. ‘And as for where you put the inhaler on a date, what’s wrong with your handbag?’
‘I don’t want anyone to see.’
‘The better controlled your asthma, the less likely you are to have an attack like the one last Friday.’
Anna breathed out heavily. ‘All right, then. What does it take?’
‘We can look at a few things together. We need to monitor your asthma. Do you think you could keep a diary for a couple of weeks? Monitor your peak flow and your symptoms?’
Helen used the pad and paper to illustrate what she was suggesting and talked to Anna about her peak-flow technique.
‘And you reckon if I do all that, I can play hockey without dying on the field.’
Helen smiled. ‘I would certainly hope so. Why don’t we give it a go? Come back and see me again next week. In the meantime, make a note of everything that’s worrying you and we’ll chat about it.’
Anna stood up. ‘And you think I should say yes to that date?’
‘If he’s that cool, definitely,’ Helen said firmly, and Anna grinned.
‘I’ll keep you posted.’
‘You do that.’
Helen waited until Anna had left the room and then went to find Oliver.
‘She basically doesn’t seem to use her inhalers at all,’ she told him, ‘because she’s so busy hiding them.’
‘So how do we get around that?’
Helen smiled. ‘We show her she’s going to have a much better life if she isn’t breathless.’
Oliver’s eyes narrowed. ‘You think that will work?’
‘It’s worth a try. Oh, and, Dr Hunter—’ Helen turned with her hand on his door, her eyes twinkling ‘—you probably ought to know that Anna thinks you’re seriously cool.’
Oliver grinned and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I am seriously cool, Nurse Forrester. Have you only just discovered that?’
Helen laughed and went back to her own consulting room, suddenly glad that she’d agreed to take the job.
She hadn’t had time to think about David all morning.
By the end of the week Helen had decided that it was more a question of finding time to eat than remembering.
She was extremely busy, and with such a range of problems that she was constantly challenged.
But, as good as his word, Oliver had given her the four-wheel drive, together with a quick driving lesson, and in her lunch breaks she explored the local area, by car and on foot.
And by the end of the week she’d found a wonderful block of flats which she thought might appeal to Hilda.
‘There’s a warden,’ she told Oliver that night over dinner, ‘but she’d be as independent as she wanted to be. And although the view over the lake is amazing, she’s still only two minutes’ walk from town.’
‘I’m not sure if she’d want to live in a flat,’ Oliver mused. ‘She lives in a house at the moment.’
‘And she’s really struggling with the stairs,’ Helen told him, recalling the conversation she’d had with Hilda earlier that week when she’d come in to have her peak flow and blood pressure checked. ‘The house has been her home all her married life and it would be easy to assume that she doesn’t want to leave it, but I think she does want to leave it.’
Oliver put down his fork and looked at her. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, she misses Barry dreadfully.’ Helen shrugged helplessly. ‘And everything about that house reminds her of him. Obviously, for some people that’s a good thing, but for Hilda I don’t think that’s the case. She doesn’t want the constant reminders. She wants to move on.’
‘You sound as though you’ve had quite a chat with her.’
Helen flushed. ‘She came in to have her blood pressure checked earlier in the week. She was the last appointment before lunch so I gave her a lift home instead of calling a taxi. She gave me lunch.’
Oliver smiled. ‘I’m glad someone is feeding you.’ He stifled a yawn. ‘I wanted to feed you myself, but it’s been a bit of a hairy week. Michelle has been discharged, by the way, and she’s doing fine. I popped in to see her at home today. She said to say thank you and she’d love to see your strappy shoes sometime.’
Helen laughed. ‘I’ll remember to keep them in my boot so that I can show her the next time I’m passing. And, Oliver …’ Her smile faded. ‘You don’t have to feed me. I’m fine.’
He leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes narrowed as they searched her face. ‘You’re still looking tired and peaky. What you need is fresh air. This weekend I’m taking you into the mountains.’
Helen looked at him with no small degree of consternation. ‘Oliver, I’m a town person, remember?’
‘But you’ll be walking with your own personal guide,’ he reminded her, a smug expression on his handsome face. ‘I will be responsible for every step you take.’
She bit her lip, wondering if she should admit the truth to him. ‘Oliver …’
‘What?’
‘I’m afraid of heights. I mean, seriously afraid of he
ights.’ She broke off and braced herself for his laughter, but instead he reached across the table and slid his hand over hers. It felt warm, strong and very comforting.
‘Will you trust me to take you somewhere you won’t feel scared?’ His gaze warmed her. ‘I promise not to leave you stranded on a ledge or make you walk over anything remotely scary.’
Feeling thoroughly embarrassed by her own inadequacy, Helen looked at him uncertainly. ‘I don’t know why you would want to take me for a walk. There must be lots of people who would keep you company who aren’t afraid of heights.’
‘The trouble is,’ he said slowly, his expression enigmatic, ‘I don’t want lots of people. I want you.’
His last sentence was ambiguous and her eyes locked on his. ‘Oliver …’ Her voice was a croak and he gave a lopsided smile and locked fingers with her.
‘Stop worrying, little town mouse. You’re going to have a good time.’
And suddenly she found that she wasn’t thinking about her fear of heights. She was thinking about spending the weekend with Oliver.
They set out early, but only after Oliver had checked every single item of her clothing.
‘If you use a layering system when you dress, it will keep you warmer,’ he told her, zipping her into his sister’s fleece jacket and then handing her an outer shell. ‘This is the waterproof, windproof bit. How are those boots?’
Helen wiggled her toes and stamped on the spot. ‘They feel fine.’
‘We’re lucky that they fit you. If they start to rub let me know but Bryony has them pretty well worn in.’
‘I feel like Michelin Man.’
‘You look great.’ He handed her a hat. ‘Put this on.’
She pulled a face. ‘I don’t look that great in hats.’
‘Helen.’ His tone was patient. ‘You are not going shopping in the King’s Road. You are about to brave the elements. Wear the hat.’
She took it from him with a sigh and pulled it onto her head.
He looked at her, his gaze assessing. ‘Actually, I disagree. I think you do look great in hats.’ He lowered his head and kissed her gently and then turned and picked up a rucksack that looked ridiculously heavy.
Helen stared after him, frozen into stillness by that kiss.
Her whole body tingled even though the contact had been relatively brief.
What had he meant by it?
Why had he kissed her?
And why did she feel so bitterly disappointed that he’d stopped?
Stunned by the thoughts she was having, Helen shook herself. It was natural that she should enjoy the company of an attractive man when her confidence in herself had been so badly rocked. It didn’t mean anything. She would have felt the same about anyone who paid her attention.
Why the hell had he kissed her?
Oliver was suffering from a severe case of frustration.
Maybe if he stripped off and rolled in the snow he might be able to cool his aching body, he mused, trying hard to occupy his mind with something—anything—that would distract him from the beautiful woman walking behind him.
He’d positioned her behind him because he knew that if she led the way he’d lose all concentration.
She was so sweet and honest.
And the kiss had been a serious mistake.
An impulse which he was now regretting more than he could possibly have imagined because he’d discovered that one relatively chaste kiss was never going to be enough.
He wanted more.
He wanted everything that this woman had to offer.
Which meant that he was in serious trouble because up until two weeks ago she’d been engaged to another man. Three weeks ago, he corrected himself quickly. A whole week had passed and during that time he’d become more and more convinced that David was totally the wrong guy for her.
Somehow he needed her to see that for herself.
He felt her hand tap him on the back and he stopped, turning immediately. ‘Are you all right?’
She was out of breath, her cheeks pink with exertion, and he thought he’d never seen a more gorgeous woman in his life. Her eyes sparkled and her soft lips were parted as she gasped for breath.
‘Next time I’m going walking with someone with shorter legs.’ She took a deep breath and grinned at him. ‘You are very fit.’
Oliver had a sudden urge to power her back against the nearest rock and show her just how fit he was.
Instead, he took a step backwards, just in case the temptation to touch her became too great. ‘Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.’
‘What were you thinking about?’
He shrugged. ‘Stuff …’ Her mostly. ‘I’ll slow down.’ He waved a hand at the scenery. ‘So, what do you think of our playground?’
She exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting over the hard lines of the mountains. ‘It’s really beautiful,’ she said quietly, and he felt a rush of relief.
He didn’t care that she was a townie. He didn’t care that she wasn’t fit enough to keep up with him.
But if she’d hated his mountains he would have cared.
‘So, do you want to play that game I told you about?’
She laughed and stamped her feet to keep warm. ‘What? Spot the boulder?’
He nodded and grasped her shoulders, turning her slightly. ‘We’re going to walk over there.’
‘Towards that ravine?’ She looked at him doubtfully and he smiled.
‘In the Lake District we call it a ghyll and, yes, we’re going to walk over there. But we’ll turn back before the path climbs upwards.’
‘Path?’ Helen squinted down at her feet. ‘What path?’
‘The one that’s under your feet. Come on.’ He turned and started to trudge up the mountain that was as familiar to him as his own kitchen. ‘Tell me what you see on the way. Landmarks.’
‘Lots of snow.’ She giggled and he turned and grabbed her hand, totally unable to resist at least a small degree of physical contact.
‘Noticing lots of snow is not going to help you find your way home if you get lost, city girl.’ He waited for her to remove her hand and when she didn’t, a warm feeling settled inside him. ‘How about this rock?’
She was still laughing. ‘OK, I’ve seen it. Hello, rock.’
Oliver was laughing, too, and his grip on her hand tightened. ‘Something makes me think you’re not taking this entirely seriously.’
‘I’m not going to get lost,’ she said simply. ‘I’m with you.’
Oliver caught his breath and wondered why it was that fate had chosen to present him with the right woman at the wrong time.
Not that it was the wrong time for him, of course. He was more than ready to settle down but Helen was so blinded by her recent trauma that there was no way she would be ready to consider a new relationship so soon.
Consoling himself with the thought that time was on his side, he kept hold of her hand and they walked steadily uphill. The more she told him about David, the more obvious it was to him that she hadn’t been in love with the guy. She’d drifted into the engagement because that had been what everyone had expected.
Given time and distance from her family, he was sure that she’d eventually come to realise that for herself.
It had finally stopped snowing and the sun was shining, and they didn’t pass another person.
He stopped at a rocky outcrop. ‘This is far enough and we can sit here without getting wet. Let’s have something to eat.’ He swung the pack off his back and delved inside. ‘Are you hungry?’
She sank down onto the rock and gave him a wry smile. ‘Oliver, we both know that you’re going to make me eat whether I’m hungry or not, so it doesn’t really matter what I say, does it?’
He smiled placidly and pulled out a flask of hot soup. ‘Good point.’ He poured the soup into two mugs and handed her one.
She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be the size of a block of flats by the time I go back to London.’
The sharp pangs o
f hunger faded at her words. Suddenly he didn’t feel like eating.
Time no longer seemed to be on his side.
‘You’re going back to London?’ He must have looked as horrified as he felt because she gave him a strange look.
‘Well, of course I am.’ She looked confused. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
Because his plan relied on her staying here long enough to realise that she had never been in love with David.
‘You’ve got nothing to go back for.’
She stared across the wild mountain scenery in silence and he saw the pain in her face.
Cursing himself for having been so tactless, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ he groaned, but she shook her head.
‘Don’t be. It’s true.’ She took a sip of soup. ‘I suppose going back to London isn’t something I’ve even thought about. I gave up my job and the house was David’s anyway, so coming up here was an escape.’
‘So stay here.’
‘I can’t hide forever, Oliver, no matter how appealing the thought is.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘For a start, at some point Bryony is going to want her house back.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Oliver handed her a sandwich. ‘Jack Rothwell owns an enormous pile about three miles from the cottage. I’m sure they’ll move in there soon enough. That will leave the cottage empty.’
Helen stared at him and he could tell that the idea hadn’t even occurred to her before now.
‘Live here …’ She stared at the mountains again and let out a long breath. ‘That would be like a dream.’
‘Then stay.’
‘Dreams don’t always work in real life,’ she said sadly. ‘For a start, your practice nurse is only gone for a month,’ she reminded him, and he rubbed a hand over his face.
‘So we’ll find you another job. No problem.’
She smiled. ‘Oliver, I don’t know anyone here.’
‘You know Bryony.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘And you know me.’
His eyes locked with hers and he could see the question in her eyes.
‘Oliver …’ Her voice was soft and she looked away, clearly feeling awkward. ‘I don’t … You can’t—’
He sighed. ‘Look, I’m going to be honest here so when I’ve had my say you can black my eye. I like you, Helen. A lot.’ Major understatement. ‘If you weren’t suffering from a very unpleasant break up I would have made a move on you a long time ago.’