by Fiona Lowe
But she needed the support of a friend, someone who’d experienced the same thing. Not a man driven wild with desire. He breathed in deeply.
He murmured against her ear. ‘We’ve had a roller-coaster ride, you and I. Survived a plane crash, lost a dear friend and today we dealt with a pretty sick baby. It all adds up. Allow yourself to experience these emotions, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.’
She tensed in his arms and very slowly raised her head and looked at him. He saw a weary pain flicker in her eyes. Felt the sigh shudder though her body.
And suddenly he knew. ‘This isn’t about the plane crash, is it?’
He only just caught the slight side-to-side movement of her head before she stepped out of his arms. He saw a blank expression slide across her eyes and the control thud back into place.
‘Sorry about all that. I don’t know why it happened. I’ll just go clean up the mess we made in the treatment room.’
He resisted the urge to haul her back against him, cage her in his arms until she told him what was going on. For some reason he wanted to know. Since Taylor’s duplicity, he’d walked away from anything that involved a real personal connection with a woman. But he and Meg had shared so much on the mountain, and working with her this last week had been amazing. She was in crisis and he wanted to help. He pulled out a chair. ‘How about you sit down with me and talk about it?’
‘No, really, I’m fine.’
He raised his brows. ‘You couldn’t breathe. What if that happened when you were treating a patient and you were alone, as you usually are?’
Her shoulders stiffened as she bristled at his words. ‘It didn’t happen, it has never happened and it won’t happen.’ Her words peppered him like buckshot.
He reached out and put his hand on her arm. ‘Something happened today to really upset you.’
She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
‘I want to help, Meg.’
She turned back to face him. ‘You can’t.’ The flat tone of her voice shocked him.
‘I can if you let me. You don’t want to risk your job, or your patients, I know you don’t.’
She glared at him, her face tight with emotion. Pain intersected with sorrow and a reluctant acceptance of reality. ‘That was low.’ She clenched her fists.
He racked his brains, trying to work out the sequence of events. She’d been her usual competent and in-control self the whole time she’d been with Brodie. He quickly skated over his own feelings of being kicked in the solar plexus when Meg had nuzzled the baby close to her chest.
She’d been brilliant with Sally, able to draw her out, be empathetic and understanding. Which was no mean feat when a woman was dealing with the news of a desperately ill baby and an unfaithful husband.
He thought over the events of the past week but nothing stood out so he scanned back to the night in the snow cave. The conversation when she’d been so determined to cast him as the bad guy. Instead of really listening, he’d just gone into defence mode. What had she really said?
He remembered the bitterness in her voice and the talk of Penton old boys. But she hadn’t hyperventilated then, she’d just been angry.
What had happened today, just before she’d panicked? She’d been talking about the father of the baby. Men... they ruin women’s lives. Had someone ruined hers?
‘A man hurt you, didn’t he?’ The words hung between them. ‘Talking about it will help, honest.’ He smiled at her, wanting to convey his concern, knowing she normally responded to his smile. He hoped it would relax her. It was a long shot but he was fast running out of ideas and she looked ready to bolt.
The tension in her body, which had held her rigid, seemed to flow out and she abruptly sat down into the chair. ‘I was briefly engaged.’
‘An old Penton Grammar boy?’
Her gasp confirmed his suspicions.
‘Yes. Graeme Stockward.’
He groaned inwardly. He knew of Stockward’s reputation as a playboy.
‘I was busy planning the wedding and he was busy planning not to be there. Turns out he thought it more of a holiday romance. He was occupied elsewhere, sleeping with every second woman he met. His parting gift to me was chlamydia.’
A white-hot rage flared inside Will. He wanted to punch Stockward so hard his perfect dental work would be shattered.
He put his hand out to cover hers.
She pulled her hand back, rejecting his touch. ‘As you know, chlamydia can be hard to diagnose and I had no reason to suspect I had an STI. Graeme was always so attentive when we were together that I had no reason not to trust him.’ She bit her lip. ‘But three months after he left me I discovered his legacy. A raging infection and two blocked Fallopian tubes.’
Her loss stabbed at him. ‘He’s scum, a complete low-life.’ The words seemed inadequate.
‘I know that…now.’ A weak smile struggled to form. ‘And after I contacted his new girlfriend and we started a tree of contacts, I think he’s out on his own.’
‘Revenge is sweet?’
She shook her head. ‘It wasn’t revenge. I didn’t want any other woman to go through what I had.’ She folded her hands in her lap. ‘Of course I had the full treatment of antibiotics and the infection’s gone, but none of that changes the fact that I can’t have children. I’m normally fine with it but watching Sally go through what I went through, I guess it tipped me over the edge.’
She ran her hands along her skirt, brushing away imaginary dust and specks, and then sat up a bit higher. ‘Laurelton’s health care is my job, as is the farm. We don’t all need to be part of a couple. I’ve loads to keep me occupied and plenty of reasons to be happy. Don’t you dare think about feeling sorry for me.’
Her look of fierce determination, mixed with permanent loss, lashed him. He knew her words were to convince herself as much as him that she was OK. Her drive, her will to make the best of each situation pulled at him. She didn’t get anywhere near enough support in her job but she’d work herself into the ground before she’d give up.
‘I wouldn’t dare feel sorry for you.’
‘Good.’ She bit her lip.
Her action undid every intention he had of giving her the space she needed. He hauled her into his arms and crushed her against him, wanting to kiss her better, remove the pain in her life, banish the memory of Graeme Stockward for ever.
The incessant ring of the clinic phone echoed around them.
She pulled back from his arms, her sky-blue eyes large, her lips wet, her expression bewildered. Her voice trembled. ‘We better get back to work.’
She spun away, her pain evident in her stance, and answered the phone.
Hell! He’d been dismissed. Again.
But this time he knew why.
Meg saw herself as dented and broken, unable to have a child, unable to offer the gift of life to a man. So she rejected any advances.
She needed the legacy of that bastard Stockward to be wiped away.
He couldn’t give her back her fertility but he could give her back the knowledge that she was a vibrant, gorgeous woman who was amazingly sexy and desirable. Meg deserved to be romanced…a warm room, a large bed and a slow seduction.
A plan started to form in his head. The only sticking point would be convincing Meg.
CHAPTER EIGHT
OUTSIDE in the Laurelton spring sunshine, Will bit into one of Nick’s hamburgers with the lot, enjoying the rush of childhood memories that came flooding back. His dad had spent his life making money but he’d occasionally dropped into father mode. Skiing holidays had been as close to father-and-son bonding as he’d ever got until the last six months. Illness had changed his father, brought out a softer side.
Being a temporary CEO for Camerons had given him an unexpected opportunity to really get to know his dad, and he’d loved their long talks ranging over all sorts of topics after the business side of things had been dealt with. Perhaps he should ring him and suggest he come up for a day of fly-fi
shing…
‘Hey, Doc!’ Brittany slipped into the moulded plastic chair opposite Will and helped herself to a hot chip.
Will pushed the chips toward her and passed the tomato sauce. ‘How are things, Brittany?’
The young woman had an air of relaxation about her that had been absent two weeks ago. ‘I’m feeling great, Dr C., and I wanted to thank you.’
Satisfaction and pleasure welled inside him. ‘Glad I could help.’
‘You have no idea what it was like, Doc. I really thought I was going mad. But now I’m feeling well enough to head back to uni.’
‘Excellent. I’ll give you a referral to an endocrinologist in Melbourne.’ He put on his mock-father voice. ‘You do need to keep in touch with your doctor up there and have regular blood tests.’
Brittany gave him a high-wattage smile. ‘Don’t worry, mate, I’ll be good, I never want to feel like that again.’ She stood up, scoffed one last chip, waved and sauntered down the street.
Will laughed. It was so refreshing to be treated just as a doctor. The Laurelton Valley residents had been overwhelming in their welcome of him. He’d been invited to homes, judged the primary school’s Parade of Fairytale Characters and had even helped out at the footy clinic. People seemed genuinely interested in him as a person rather than as someone whose name appeared annually on the ‘Who’s Rich?’ list. He was enjoying being a regular bloke.
And the medicine challenged him, especially as a lot of it was adult medicine. It had been a couple of years since he’d practised that, and it took different skills.
Doctors in small towns knew about their patients’ lives because they lived among them and he’d found himself doing quite a bit of counselling. Farmers had it tough and although Meg was brilliant at what she did, men seemed to prefer to talk to another man.
Some people might think writing repeat prescriptions was dull stuff but it involved an examination and a chat and he discovered all sorts of things that he’d been able to follow up on. Thankfully, emergencies like Brodie were few and far between. He made a mental note to call for another update on the baby’s condition.
The other day he’d had a lot of fun at Meg’s healthy baby clinic when she’d been caught up trying to get a handle on the latest change-of-season lice outbreak at the school. He smiled at the memory of the indignant look on her face when he’d teased her, calling her the nit nurse.
Routine or not, he’d enjoyed it all. Medicine didn’t have to be all drama and urgency. Medicine was people and he’d missed his patients, especially the kids.
A horn sounded, breaking into his thoughts, and he glanced up to see a smiling Meg winding down the ute’s window. White heat flared, blood rushed to his groin. Her smile did dangerous things to him every single time and she seemed to have no idea.
She beckoned him over. ‘Jump in.’
He picked up his medical bag and walked over to the ute. He leaned into the open window, breathing in the apple scent of her hair, using every ounce of restraint he had not to kiss her. ‘Emergency?’
She laughed. ‘No, this is a social call. The Patricks have some bantam hens for me and as we’re quiet and it’s Friday afternoon, I thought you could see a bit of the district and help me load the hens.’
‘So, really, you’re just using me for my manly strength?’
‘Absolutely.’
Her wide-eyed gaze hooked with his, and the moment expanded. He recognised the longing in her eyes, and knew his need was reflected back to her. Somehow, and soon, he needed to get her out of town, somewhere private, where they could explore this simmering lust.
Meg dragged her eyes away from Will’s, reluctantly breaking the moment but knowing it was totally necessary. Nothing could and nothing would happen between them.
She pushed open the passenger door. ‘Get in. It’s a short drive.’
The road followed the Laurelton River, which was flowing with icy water generated by melting snow. Round river stones, smoothed by the rush of water, reflected a series of browns and yellows through the clear water.
Meg glanced across at Will, whose sight seemed fixed on the view. ‘Did you catch up with Sheryl Jettison and organise her blood-pressure medication?’
Will turned back from the window, the far-away look in his eye quickly replaced by alert attention. ‘I’m trialling her on a new drug which hopefully will suit her better. It’s had some great outcomes in clinical trials.’
Meg tilted her head. ‘You’ve been doing some professional reading?’
A guarded look crossed his face. ‘I keep up. Don’t worry, I’m not likely to confuse liquorice all-sorts with blood-pressure medication.’ Although it sounded like a joke, his tone didn’t encourage further comment.
Meg respected the tone but only because they’d just arrived at the Patricks’ gate. Now wasn’t the time to pin Will down on exactly when he was planning to return to medicine. But she was determined to have that conversation because from what she’d observed over the last couple of weeks he was wasting his talents selling confectionery.
She swung the ute across the obligatory cattlegrid and pulled up in front of the house.
Surprise crossed Will’s face. ‘I didn’t know farmhouses came so new and modern.’
She laughed. ‘It’s a lot different from Big Hill Farm, that’s for sure. The Patricks have six sons, ranging from twenty-one down to four, and this house was Doug’s gift to Sue on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. How she managed for so many years with an outhouse and a lean-to for a laundry I will never know.’ She slammed the ute door closed. ‘Come and meet Sue.’
Ten minutes later, surrounded by cups of tea, a huge platter of scones, farm cream and home-made raspberry jam, Meg sneaked a look at Will.
With true Laurel Valley hospitality, Sue was pressing him to accept a third helping of scones.
Will gave his trademark smile. ‘Sue, I think you should enter these scones in the Royal Melbourne Show—the world needs to know about them.’
Sue blushed. ‘Actually, Will, I have won a blue ribbon for my scones at the Laurelton Show.’
A darked-haired little boy appeared by his mother’s side, clutching a truck and with a hopeful look in his eye. ‘When are the kids coming home, Mum?’
‘When the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the four.’ Sue pointed to the large kitchen clock.
‘Oh, but that’s ages away.’ Dejected, his head dropped forward.
Sue turned to Will and Meg. ‘The kinder year is a toughie. Josh is keen to be at big school and finds the afternoons rather long.’
Will moved off his chair and squatted down to the four-year-old’s level, his back to the glass patio doors. ‘That’s a pretty good-looking truck you’ve got there.’
Josh nodded, his face serious. ‘But the bulldozer’s got caterpillar wheels. You need that for the mud on our farm.’
‘I bet you do. The truck would sink, wouldn’t it?’
Meg’s heart turned over in her chest. No wonder Will had chosen paediatrics—he was a natural with kids.
Josh squinted and rubbed his eyes and then looked at Will. ‘Like when my dad tried to pull the tree stump out by the river.’
‘There are no secrets with kids.’ Sue laughed. ‘Josh loves to tell everyone that story, much to Doug’s embarrassment.’
Josh moved again so Will’s body shaded him from the bright afternoon light streaming through the glass and busied himself with the trucks while Will lined up the crane and the front-end loader.
Will absently built a tower of blocks for the bulldozer. ‘Sue, has Josh always avoided bright light?’
Sue thought for a moment. ‘Actually, now you mention it, just lately he has moved his play area. He always used to play where you are now. Why do you ask?’
Meg looked at Will, trying to read his expression. He’d noticed something, she was sure of it, but what?
‘Would you object to me examining his eyes?’
Sue started. ‘No,
of course not, I can bring him down to the clinic tomorrow. I was thinking of doing that anyway because one day last week I thought I saw a white spot on his eye, but it had gone the next time I looked so I thought I was imagining it.’
Will stood up. ‘Actually, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to do it now.’
Meg quietly slipped out of the door and pulled Will’s medical kit out of the ute. When she returned she found Sue anxiously winding a teatowel through her hands and Will back playing with Josh.
Sue grabbed her hand. ‘Will says he could see a reflection in Josh’s pupil. That can’t be good.’
Meg gave Sue’s hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘He’s a good doctor, Sue. He wouldn’t have mentioned this unless he thought it really important.’
Will wound the crane down so Josh could connect a load to the hook. ‘I’m a doctor, Josh, and I’d like you to sit on Mum’s knee for a minute so I can have a look at your eyes.’
The little boy silently considered the request.
Will backed a truck under the crane. ‘You can look in my eyes first, if you like, with the special eye-looker.’
Josh’s face lit up with a smile. ‘Cool.’ He stood up and then jumped up and down, waiting for his mother to sit. He quickly climbed onto his mother’s lap and looked expectantly at Will.
In a few short minutes Will had gained the trust of this little boy and not a lolly in sight. Meg decided he was definitely wasting his talents in the business world.
She passed him the ophthalmoscope, heat rushing through her at his smile of thanks. Oh, she had to get a grip. She was worse than a fourteen-year-old with a crush.
‘OK, mate, you look through the little hole into my eye.’
The instrument seemed large in Josh’s pudgy hands but he very seriously peered through it as Will leaned close to him.
‘Good job.’ Will reached for the ophthalmoscope. ‘Now it’s my turn. Can you sit very still?’
The little boy seemed to sit a bit straighter on his mother’s lap, taking on the responsibility of his part of the task.
Meg wished she could see Will’s expression but his face was too close to Josh’s, his right eye pressed against the ’scope.