by Annie O'Neil
Brodie’s grumpy riposte vibrated through the wall. Kali was relieved to hear Ailsa laugh at her nephew’s words, then jumped not a moment later when a door slammed farther along the corridor. Crikey. It was like being in a Scottish soap opera. And it was great! No-holds-barred bickering, banter and underneath it all a wealth of love. The stuff of dreams.
Her family had never had that sort of banter—Stop-stop-stop-stop-stop. Kali deftly trained her hair into a thick plait as she reminded herself she had no family. No one to bicker with, let alone rely on. Not anymore.
Turn it into a positive, Kali.
The other voice in her head—the kind one, the one that had brought her out of her darkest moments—came through like the pure notes of a flute.
There’s always a bright side.
Good. Focus on that. Turn it into a positive... Not having a family means I’m free! Unencumbered! Not a soul in the world to care about me!
The familiar gaping chasm of fear began to tickle at Kali’s every confidence.
Okay. Maybe a positive mantra was going to be elusive. For today. But she could do it. Eventually. And realistically there was only one mantra she really needed to focus on:
K.I.C.K.A.S.S. Keep It Compassionate, Kind and Supremely Simple.
It had kept her sane for the past five years and would continue to be her theme song.
She tightened the drawstring on the baggy pants and gave her shoulders a fortifying shake. Who knew? Maybe she could get someone with bagpipes to rustle up a tune!
The piper’s “K.I.C.K.A.S.S. Anthem.”
Hmm. It needed work.
Regardless, the rhythm of the words sang to her in their own way. They were her link to sanity.
She jumped as a door slammed again. Hearing no footsteps, she thought she might as well suck it up and see what was going on out there. No point hiding out in the toilet! In less than thirty minutes she’d be seeing a patient, and it would probably be a good idea to get the lie of the land.
Kali cracked the door open and stuck her head out—only to pull it right back in when Brodie unexpectedly stormed past. If he’d had a riding cloak and a doublet on he would have looked just like the handsome hero from a classic romance.
Handsome?
She was really going to have to stop seeing him in that way. Rude and curt was more like it. And maybe just a little bit sexy Viking.
He abruptly turned and screeched to a halt, one hand holding the other as if in prayer, his index fingers resting upon his lips. His awfully nice lips.
Stop it! You are not to get all mushy about your new boss. Your new, very grumpy boss. You’ve been down that road and had to leave everything behind. Never again.
She stood stock-still as Brodie’s eyes scanned her from top to toe. A little shudder shivered its way along her spine. His gaze felt surprisingly...intimate.
“That’s one hell of a look, Dr. O’Shea.”
As Brodie’s blue eyes worked their way along her scrappy ensemble for a second time Kali all but withered with embarrassment. Snappy comebacks weren’t her forte. Not by a long shot.
“Once I get a lab coat on it should be all right.”
Nice one, Kali.
“Sure.” Brodie turned and resumed his journey to the front of the clinic. “I’ll just get the patient list.”
Kali did a skip-run-walk thing to catch up with his long-legged strides.
“Would you like me to take a look?”
“That’s generally the idea with a patient list.”
Kali blew out a slow breath, her eyes on Brodie’s retreating back as she continued race-walking to keep up with him. Touchy, touchy! She was next to certain he wasn’t angry with her, but there was a bagpipe-sized chip on that shoulder of his.
“I meant your hand.”
Brodie stopped short and whirled around. Kali only just skidded to a halt in time not to run into his chest. Which, given how nice he smelled, wouldn’t have been too bad a thing, but—
“I’d have thought you’d be too afraid.”
“Wh-what?” Kali instinctively pulled back at Brodie’s aggressive response. She’d been afraid before. Terrified, actually. For her life. And she’d survived.
She pressed her heels into the ground. If she could make a last-minute exit out of an arranged marriage under the threat of death she could deal with a grumpy thirtysomething doctor with a self-induced kettle burn.
“I’ve dealt with difficult patients before,” she continued levelly, her eyes on his hand. Meeting his gaze would only increase the heated atmosphere. “I’m sure we’ll come out all right in the end.”
“Difficult patients with Ebola?”
Brodie thrust his hand forward and with every pore of strength she could muster Kali held her ground. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she was not—absolutely, positively not—going to start out her new life fearfully.
“Aren’t you going to touch it?”
He thrust his hand straight into her eyeline—millimeters from her face. What was this? Some sort of hardcore newcomer test? Whatever it was, she was not going to be frightened by Brodie McClellan or anyone—ever again.
* * *
Brodie watched, amazed, as Kali stood stock-still, seemingly unfazed by his ridiculously aggressive behavior. She took his hand in hers, one of her delicate fingers holding open his own as they instinctively tried to curl round the injury. It was the first time he’d been touched by someone outside of a medical exam in weeks, if not months. The power of it struck him deeply.
Kali’s delicate touch nearly released the soft moan building in his chest. He couldn’t—mustn’t—let her see how much this single moment meant to him. He looked at her eyes as they moved across his hand. Diligent, studied. Their extraordinary bright green making them almost feline. More tigress than tabby, he thought.
Moments later, as he exhaled, he realized he’d been holding his breath while Kali was examining him with clinical indifference—examining the burn mark he’d all but shoved directly in her face. It wasn’t a bad burn. His pride had been hurt more than his hand. Her touch had been more healing than any medicine. Not that he’d ever tell her. She’d be off soon. Like all the good things that came into his life. Just passing through.
Her long lashes flicked up over those green eyes of hers meeting his inquisitive gaze head-on. Could she see how strange this was for him? Being treated as if he weren’t a walking, talking contagious disease? No. It ran deeper than that. She was treating him compassionately. Without the stains of his past woven through her understanding of who he actually was.
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“I’m sorry?” Brodie near enough choked at her about-face, bring-it-on attitude.
“Ebola?” She scoffed. “That’s your best shot?”
Now it was Brodie’s turn to be confused. Was she trying to double bluff him?
“I get a bit of hazing, Dr. McClellan. The less than warm welcome, the mocking about this ridiculous outfit. But seriously...?” She snorted a get real snort, took a step back, her hand still holding his, and gave him a smile wreathed in skepticism. “That’s your best shot at getting me to hightail it back to the mainland, is it? Ebola?”
CHAPTER TWO
BRODIE PULLED HIS hand out of Kali’s and received an indignant stare in response.
“What? Now I’m not fit to see to a first-degree burn? I am a qualified GP, I’ll have you know.”
This time there was fire behind her words. She was no pushover. He liked that. Decorum ruled all here on Dunregan and it had never been a good fit for him. It was what had forced him to head out into the world to explore who he could be without That Day branded onto his every move.
Enough with the bitterness, McClellan. You’re not a teenager anymore.
> “No, that’s not it at all.” Brodie waved away her presumption, opting to get over himself and just be honest. “I think the booking agency might not have been entirely forthright with you.”
“What are you talking about? Four weeks—with the possibility of an extension. What’s there to know beyond that?” Her forehead crinkled ever so slightly.
“I...” Brodie hesitated, then plunged forward. No point in beating round the bush. “I’ve recently finished my twenty-one-day clearance after three months working in an Ebola hospital. In Africa,” he added, as if it weren’t ruddy obvious where the hospital had been.
Three countries. Thousands dead. He’d wanted to make a difference. Needed to make a difference somewhere—anywhere—before coming back here. And he had done. Small-scale. But he’d been there. A pair of hazmat boots on the ground in a place where “risky” meant that sharing the same air as the person next to you might mean death. Only to come back and face a sea of incriminating looks.
Is this what you had in mind, Dad? Making me promise to work on the island for a year after you’d gone so I could be reminded how much of an outsider I am?
He shook off the thought. His father had been neither bitter nor vengeful. It had been his fathomless kindness and understanding that had driven the stakes of guilt deep into Brodie’s heart.
“Hmm...”
Kali’s green-eyed gaze remained steady apart from a blink or two. Could she see the inner turmoil he was fighting? Filial loyalty over a need to cut loose? To forge his own path.
Kali’s voice, when she finally spoke, was completely neutral. “Guess they did leave that bit out.” She considered him for a moment longer. “I am presuming you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t had the all clear so...it does beg the question: what am I doing here if you’re good to go?”
“Ah, the mysteries of life in Dunregan begin to reveal themselves.” This was the part that rankled. The part where Brodie found himself slamming doors, spilling boiling water and leaving unsuspecting GPs with their muck-covered bicycles by the side of the road on a stormy day.
“Some of—most of the patients are concerned...about being seen by me.” Total honesty? All of them. Fear of catching Ebola from Ol’ Dr. McClellan’s son had gripped the island.
Or...the thought struck him...maybe they had simply preferred his father and were using the Ebola scare as an excuse to refuse his treatment. Now, that hurt.
He cleared his throat. One step at a time.
“Even though you’ve had the all clear?” Kali’s voice remained impartial. She was fact gathering.
“Right. Apparently most folk round here don’t put much faith in the Public Health Office’s green light.” He snorted derisively. “And to think of all the viral infections I’ve treated here. Rich, isn’t it?”
He stopped himself. He was going to have to check the bitter tone in his voice. Yeah, he was angry. But he was hurting much more than he was spitting flames. And to add on moments like these—moments that reminded him why he wanted more than anything to live somewhere else. Oh, to be anonymous!
“I’m going to presume, as someone who has also taken the Hippocratic oath, that you wouldn’t have returned to your practice until you felt well and truly able to.”
Despite himself, he shot her a look. One that said, Obviously not. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so blinking frustrated.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Dr. McClellan! I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check with you.”
“Fair enough.”
And it was. It just felt...invasive...being questioned again. And by someone who hadn’t been through the post-Ebola wringer as he had.
Kali might be a fully qualified GP, but her face was unlined by personal history. With skin that smooth, no dark circles under her eyes, excited to be working in Dunregan... She had to be green around the ears.
“What are you? Two...three days out of med school?”
She looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. The rod of steel reasserted itself.
“Old enough. Apart from which, I don’t really think that’s any business of yours.”
“No.” Might as well be honest. “You just look—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She all but spat the words out, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. “Baby-faced.”
“Not exactly what I was going to say,” Brodie countered. Arrestingly beautiful would’ve been more accurate. Her smooth skin was entirely unweathered by life, but now that he was paying more attention the wary look in her eyes spoke of wisdom beyond her years.
“Well...” She adopted a tone one might use for toddlers. “I’m a fully fledged grown-up, just like you, so you can rest easy, Dr. McClellan.”
“Brodie,” he countered with a smile.
He was warming to Kali. The more they spoke the more it seemed they might be two of a kind. Quick to smart when someone hit the right buttons. Slow to trust. A well-earned friendship if you ever got that far.
“Well, guess you’re just lucky. Good genes from your parents, eh?”
She stiffened.
More sensitive territory, from the looks of things. Maybe her relationship with her family was as terrific as the one he had with his. One wayward brother, a meddling auntie and a godsend of a niece who’d stepped in at the reception desk when his “loyal” long-term sidekick had flown the coop. Okay...so they weren’t that bad. But right now he was feeling a bit more me-against-the-world than he liked.
“So...you were working in Africa...?”
Score one to Kali for deftly changing the topic!
“Right, sorry.” Brodie regrouped with a shake of his head. “Okay—long story short: I did the work through Doctors Without Borders who—as I’m sure you will appreciate—have some pretty rigorous safety systems in place for this sort of thing. I was lucky enough to be working in one of the newly built facilities. Upon my return to the UK...” he glanced at the date on his phone “...which was about five weeks ago, I went to a pre-identified debriefing under the watchful eye of Public Health England.”
“PHE? I know it.” Kali nodded for him to continue before noticing Ailsa coming down the corridor, her arms laden with patient files.
“Oh, Dr. O’Shea! Glad to see you in some dry clothes. If you’d just like to hang yours on the radiator in the tea room at the back there—where we came in—they should be dry in no time. I’ll see about finding you a white coat as well, but folk don’t stand too much on formality here. What you have on now will do just fine.”
Ailsa squeezed between the pair of them on her way to her office, giving Brodie a bit of a glare as she did. He gave her a toothy grin in return. He knew he was a pain in the bum, but that was what number one nephews were for!
Ailsa Dunregan was a brilliant nurse. And a vigilant auntie. It meant more than he could say that she hadn’t fled the coop like the rest of his staff. Well, the receptionist. Best not get too hysterical.
He returned his focus to Kali. All gamine and sexy looking in his castoffs. Who knew a scrubby T-shirt and joggers could look so...rip-offable?
He gave his head a quick shake. Kali was showing professionalism. Now it was his turn.
“Okay, the clinic is going to be opening soon so—in a nutshell—there’s a twenty-one-day incubation period. I stayed near a PHE-approved facility and did the following: I took my temperature twice a day, called my ‘fever parole officer,’ did a full course of malaria prophylaxis, because malaria symptoms can mimic Ebola symptoms. Any hint of a fever and I was meant to isolate myself and call the paramedics—like that doctor in New York. Who also got the all clear, by the way,” he added hastily.
“Where did you do all this?” Kali asked.
“I stayed in London so that I was near an appropriate treatment center should any of the symptoms have arisen, and I spoke reg
ularly with hospital staff just to triple-check everything I was experiencing was normal.”
She quirked an eyebrow.
“It makes you paranoid. Hemorrhagic fever ain’t pretty.” He checked his tone. Kali hadn’t said a word of judgment. She wasn’t the enemy. Just a GP doing her job. His job. Whatever.
He started over. “Three months in protective gear, vigilant disinfections and then nothing. I’d never realized how often people sneeze on public transport before.” He tried for a nonchalant chortle and ended up coughing. Sexy. Not that he was trying to appeal to Kali on any level other than as a doctor or anything.
“Right.” Kali took back the conversation’s reins before his thoughts went in too wayward a direction. “I take it you’ve spoken with everyone? The islanders?” she clarified.
He swallowed. Not in so many words...
* * *
Kali watched Brodie’s Adam’s apple dip and surge, her eyes flicking up to his in time to see his gaze shift up to the right. So that was his tell.
She was hoping he hadn’t felt her fingers shaking earlier when she had held his palm in hers. Countless self-defense courses hadn’t knocked the infinitesimal tremor out of her hands. But when Brodie had thrown the Ebola grenade into her lap years of medical training and logic had dictated that she’d be fine. Instinctually she knew that she had a jacked-up instinct for survival. It had never come to that, but if she needed to fight for her life she had the skills to give it her all.
“Depends upon what you mean, exactly...by ‘spoken with.’” Brodie’s gaze returned to hers, his fingers dropping some air quotes into the space between them. As their eyes met—his such a clear blue—she wondered that anyone could doubt him. They were the most honest pair of eyes she had ever seen. She felt an unexpected hit of disappointment that she wouldn’t be here in Dunregan longer than a few weeks.
She shook her head, reminding herself they were in the middle of a pretty important conversation.
“So, you’ve not held a town hall meeting or anything like that?”