Every instinct of hers had been correct. Why had he ever doubted her?
Logan settled at the edge of one of the chairs in the room and just let Gemma sob. Stroking her hair, just the way she’d done for her friend a few moments before. After a few minutes she lifted her head. He couldn’t help it, he acted on instinct. He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips.
But he’d mistimed it. He’d totally misjudged the situation. What he’d meant as a sign of comfort hadn’t been perceived that way. She looked mad. Logan could practically see the sparks jump from her eyes.
‘Isla could have been there. Isla could have had that life.’ Her whole body was shaking with rage. Her mind was totally focused on one thing, and one thing alone. The truth was he couldn’t blame her. He could almost imagine feeling exactly the same way.
He nodded. ‘I know, Gemma. You were right. You were right to take her away. You were right to fight. I should never have doubted you.’
He lifted his hands and touched her shaking arms, trying to calm her, trying to stop the surge of adrenaline that was coursing through her body. The pain in her eyes was torturous.
‘But you’ve no idea, Logan. No idea how much I doubted myself. No idea how much I struggled over that decision. Even when we fought the other week—you made me feel I had been wrong. I was doubting myself all over again.’ She was starting to panic.
He gripped her firmly by the shoulders. ‘But you weren’t wrong, Gemma. You weren’t. And I shouldn’t have doubted you.’
She could hardly get a breath. He looked around the room. Should he try and find a paper bag for her to breathe into? ‘Take it easy,’ he said quietly, ‘take some slow, deep breaths.’ He kept his voice steady, calm, willing it to have an effect on her.
He was watching the rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin scrub top she had changed into. He lifted his hand from her shoulder and placed it on the side of her cheek. He could feel the pulse throbbing wildly at the side of her neck. Her heart was racing.
‘Look at me, Gemma.’ She was all over the place right now, and he had to calm her down. Get her back to him.
Their eyes met and he nodded then took a long, deep breath. ‘Watch me, Gemma. Breathe with me. Slowly. In, out. In, out.’
For a few seconds her breathing continued in the same manner, frantic, panting, then she eventually started to follow his lead. In. Out. In. Out. Slow. Steady.
Her eyes were still fixed on his, her hand lifting and covering the hand he had at the side of her face.
Everything he’d said had been wrong. Everything he’d done had been wrong. But being here, now, with Gemma was everything that felt right.
Nothing could be clearer in his mind. He didn’t ever want to be without her.
Something flitted across her eyes. Her breathing had calmed, her pulse had stopped racing. She started to shake her head. ‘I’m so angry at her, Logan,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so angry that she was going to take Isla into that environment and say nothing—and do nothing to protect her.’ Her voice was trembling again. ‘How could she? How could she let that happen?’ Her voice started to break. ‘And I can’t say that to anyone, can I?’
But Gemma couldn’t stop. ‘I know she’s the victim. I know that.’ She pressed her hand to her heart. ‘So why am I so annoyed with her?’
Logan nodded. ‘You can say it. You can say it to me between these four walls. And then I want you to lift your head up and walk down the corridor with me and we’ll both do what we can to help your friend. You’ve got to put this aside. She’s taken the first step to leave an abusive relationship and protect her child.’
He twisted his fingers in her hair. ‘It makes perfect sense to you and me. But it’s hard for her. And we can’t do anything to upset her.’ He cradled her head against his chest. ‘You’re not the only one who’s angry. The thought of Isla being exposed to that...’ His voice tailed off and he took a deep breath. ‘Right now, I could easily go to the waiting room and knock Patrick into next week. And if he gets in our way—I might.’
Gemma lifted her head and nodded it slowly. It was clear she was struggling so much with this. Her sympathy for her friend was being overwhelmed by her own mothering instinct to protect her child and keep her safe. Lesley had threatened that for her. And right now it was obviously too much to handle.
He pulled her a little closer towards him. ‘What do you say we go and check on Lynsey and her babies? We need to phone home to Arran to let Edith know how things are. Once we’ve done that we’ll speak to the sister here. If we can magic Lesley out of here tonight, we should.’ He wanted to get her out of here. He wanted to get her away from this. The last thing he wanted was for her to come face to face with Patrick. He couldn’t be responsible for his actions then.
‘Home,’ Gemma repeated. She still sounded a bit detached. Her hands came up and rested on his chest. He thought for a second she was going to wrap them around the back of his neck, but instead she pushed him away. ‘I don’t know if Arran can be my home.’
‘What do you mean?’ The words shocked him. Gemma and Isla had seemed to settle on the island so quickly. Where had this come from?
Everything about her seemed a little different. Her whole persona seemed detached. As if this was the only way she could deal with all this. ‘I don’t know how I feel about that any more. I don’t know if we can keep working together, Logan. You didn’t believe me. You judged me. I’m not prepared to be judged. Not by you, or anyone else on the island.’
She was upset. He knew she was upset. ‘Gemma, I said I’m sorry. I know I was wrong. Don’t make any hasty decisions. Isla loves the island. She loves my mum—and my mum loves her. Don’t uproot her because we’ve had a fight.’
Gemma shook her head. ‘It’s not just you. Arran’s a small island, and word spreads fast. I have no idea how people will react when they find out the truth about me and I just don’t feel the urge to defend myself at every turn. I don’t think I should have to. What if they’re like you? What if they think I was wrong?’
He tried to wrap his arms around her again but she shook her head.
A strange sensation was sweeping across his chest. He was starting to feel desperate. An experience that was all new. Because even in the midst of any emergency Logan Scott was always calm.
This was a whole new range of emotions for him. He’d been frustrated about his sister. Frustrated that he hadn’t recognised her deteriorating condition first and acted on it. But he’d never felt like this. Never felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Never felt as if everything was out of his control.
‘Gemma, wait. Don’t be hasty. There’s only one more week to go. After that Sam Allan should be well enough to take up some duties again and you can reduce your hours at the surgery. You can start doing the paediatric job you came here to do.’ He held his hands out towards her.
‘You’ve already met some of the children that you’ll need to see. You know how much we need a paediatrician. Don’t think about walking away. Isla’s just about to start school. She’s excited already. She’s got her uniform and her school shoes. I’ve bought her the school satchel she wanted. It should be here any day now. She’s met her teacher and made some friends who’ll be in her class.’ He shook his head fiercely and pressed his hand against his chest.
‘This is my fault, Gemma. My fault. Not yours. Not Isla’s. Patrick’s already destroyed your friend’s life. Don’t let him destroy yours too.’
He couldn’t say out loud what he desperately wanted to. Every cell in his body was screaming ‘self-preservation’ at him, and the only way he could do that was to keep the feelings that were bubbling over in his heart to himself.
He couldn’t tell her he would be devastated if she and Isla left the island. He couldn’t tell her how much he would miss them. He could only hope she would see, and feel, what was bubbling under the surface.
But Gemma still had the strange detached look on her face. And he recognised it as her own self-preservation mode
. ‘Leave it, Logan. Leave me alone. I need some time to think. I need some time to decide what to do.’ And she turned and walked away.
Logan was shocked. They were in the middle of Glasgow, miles away from Arran. Was she even going to come back?
He should have said it. He should have said the extra words. Patrick’s already destroyed your friend’s life. Don’t let him destroy yours too. And don’t let him destroy mine. Because I don’t know how I can live without you both. I love you, you and Isla.
But he hadn’t. He hadn’t said it out loud.
He lifted his finger to his lips. Had that been the last kiss they would ever share?
CHAPTER TEN
SHE PUT THE phone down as an email pinged into her inbox. The last patient had just left. Only two emergencies today. Maybe she would get the chance to do some referral letters and review some test results. She hadn’t been expecting a quiet day so this was perfect.
She leaned back in the chair. She was starting to calm down again, relax. Meeting Lesley again—and seeing what Patrick had done to her—had been an absolute shock to her system. Bringing Lesley back with her had been harder than she could ever have imagined.
Both of them had struggled with it. Lesley had spent most of the time in tears. And they hadn’t talked—not properly. They probably never would. It was hardly the time to vent her hidden anger at her friend for hiding the abuse and protecting Patrick for so long.
She’d learned a hard enough lesson and Gemma couldn’t add to it.
By tomorrow Lesley would be gone. Logan had offered to drive her to Glasgow Airport and wait with her until she boarded the flight to Benbecula. It was only eight miles away from Uist and she would be home. Safe, with a family who would protect her.
What had surprised her most was how angry she’d felt about it all. How angry she’d felt with Lesley—the victim—for not taking steps to protect herself and her baby. Even thinking about it sent a cold shiver down her spine.
That could have been Isla. That could have been her baby. A defenceless child in an environment with...goodness knows what. She hadn’t slept a wink that night. She hadn’t slept a wink because of the sea of what-ifs that had floated around her head.
‘What if’ she’d been overcome with guilt and handed Isla over? ‘What if’ she’d then had concerns and hadn’t been able to do anything to protect her daughter or her friend? ‘What if’ something had happened to either one of them? No wonder she’d spent the whole night tossing and turning.
And the only person she felt as if she could talk to about it all was the one person she’d taken her temper out on. Logan may have judged her, but he’d admitted he hadn’t understood the circumstances. He’d apologised. And he’d tried his best to support her that day.
He’d arranged transport for them all back to Arran. He’d practically carried Lesley from the hospital and into a waiting car to drive them back to Ardrossan. He’d arranged for some policemen to go to her home and pick up some of her things. All without saying a word to her.
But she’d pushed him away. She had been unable to deal with the pity in his eyes, or the way he’d looked as if he’d wanted to protect her. All she had been able to think about had been her own failings. How many things she could have done differently. Ways in which she could have done something to support the friend she’d more or less abandoned.
That first night, after she’d finally got home to Arran and she’d settled Lesley in, she’d brought Isla into her bed and just held her all night. It was something that rarely happened. Usually the only time Isla ended up in bed with her was if she was sick. But Gemma had just felt the need to hold her that night. To hold her and never let her go.
The last two nights she’d spent a few minutes watching her from the corridor as she’d slept. Her little chest rising and falling peacefully, without a care in the world. Logan had been right. Isla loved it here. And she was thriving.
Her relationship with Mrs Scott was priceless. They were like two identical personalities at opposite ends of the age spectrum. She’d had a few doubts about staying here on that day. She’d been scared. Scared that people might judge her like Logan had.
But she had to think positively. She was looking forward to starting her paediatric hours soon. Sam Allan would be returning to the practice, and Harry Burns would be well enough in a few weeks to decorate her house.
And the house? The house was perfect. She could spend a lazy evening looking out over the Firth of Clyde and drinking a glass of wine. It might be a little lonely at times, but she had no idea what would happen in the future.
She ran her hand along her arms. Her hairs were standing on end, and she knew exactly why. Logan. He’d just appeared in her brain and her body was having an instant reaction.
Logan Scott. The island bachelor. Would he ever look for something else?
The connection between them felt so real. So instant. So alive.
Isla talked about him all the time. They seemed to have made an easy connection. Could she hope for anything else?
She’d seen Claire again yesterday. She’d been at Mrs Scott’s house when Gemma had gone to pick Isla up. She’d told Gemma about being turned down by the adoption agency.
It had been heartbreaking. Gemma had seen the longing in her eyes as she’d watched Isla play with her mother. But when she’d asked a few questions about how she was feeling and her mood, Claire had been quite open to Gemma’s suggestion that they talk some time.
So maybe things would work out for Claire. And maybe Logan’s guilt would finally be appeased.
Gemma lifted her nose in the air. She could smell coffee. And scones. She’d need to be quick. These things never lasted in a busy practice like this.
She turned back to face the screen and clicked open the email. Her friend Lottie. She’d marked it urgent. Odd. She hadn’t spoken to Lottie in the last few weeks.
Gemma’s heart fell as soon as she saw what it contained.
No. Please, no. She put her hand over her mouth. She felt sick.
Not now. Not this. Just when she’d finally thought she could relax and draw breath.
It seemed as if life on Arran had just slipped out of her grasp.
* * *
Logan finished his run and headed towards the shop. He didn’t like to break his routine. After an on-call last night when he hadn’t got a wink of sleep, this was a precious morning off. He still hadn’t slept, though.
By the time he’d finished at the hospital the early morning sun had just been rising above the waves. It was a perfect time for a sail. Two hours out on the open sea followed by a run along the nearby beaches and main road.
It was supposed to be a chance for him to get his thoughts in order. To plan an approach to Gemma and what on earth he was going to say.
His feet slowed as he approached the newsagent’s. The morning paper and some fresh rolls and he’d be all set.
He noticed straight away that something was wrong. The local Scottish red-top was missing from the stack of papers lined up on the shelves. Sometimes there were problems with the deliveries to Arran, it wasn’t that unusual.
But what was unusual was that every other paper was up to date and on the shelf.
‘What’s wrong, Fred? Delivery not arrived yet?’ He picked up his usual paper and a bag with four rolls and set them down on the counter.
Fred looked as if he’d swallowed a rat. His face was twisted and fierce. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Best not to sell it today.’
Logan looked up. He hadn’t really been paying much attention, but now his interest was definitely piqued. Fred, in protest about something? Seemed unusual.
‘Why not?’
Fred screwed up his face even further. His head gestured with a nod to the pile behind the counter at his feet. ‘Don’t want to upset the new doc.’
Logan’s eyes widened and he reached down behind the counter and grabbed the nearest paper.
Oh, no. He let out an expletive.
Bad surrogate in emergency visit to her pregnant ex-best friend.
He couldn’t believe any journalist had actually got hold of the story. That had been a few days ago.
He scanned the rest of the article. No mention of Lynsey Black and her babies. They obviously hadn’t made the connection with the helicopter. Thank goodness. But someone had made the connection between Lesley, Patrick and Gemma.
There was even a picture—albeit a pretty fuzzy one that didn’t really capture Gemma’s true beauty. But it did list a lot of information about her. Like the fact she was Arran’s new paediatrician, and that she had moved to the island with her daughter Isla, and the fact she was working in the GP practice on the island. How on earth had they got all that information?
Logan could barely read the rest, and it was just as well as it made his blood boil. The tear-jerking story of Gemma stealing Patrick and Lesley’s baby—with no mention of the fact she was Isla’s biological mother.
Then a further huge story about Lesley’s ‘miracle’ pregnancy, and the minor ‘incident’ that had caused Lesley to end up in hospital and Patrick led away in handcuffs. Funnily enough, there was no picture of that.
Or of the damage to Lesley’s face and throat, or the potential damage to the unborn child. Worse than anything, it mentioned some vague remark about Lesley being ‘elsewhere’. Logan fumed. It wouldn’t take a genius to work out what that meant—especially when they’d given so much other information about Gemma.
If she’d been feeling unsure about staying on Arran before, how was she going to feel about this?
Logan’s stomach churned. He had to speak to her. He had to warn her. Fred had been kind enough to hide the papers, but not every newsagent on the island would do that, and word would spread quickly.
Logan threw some coins on the counter. ‘Thank you, Fred. Thanks for this. I’ll go and speak to Gemma now.’
He jogged along the seafront towards the surgery. There was no time to go and get changed. He couldn’t even think about that right now. All he could think about was getting to Gemma and warning her. Getting to her and letting her know that all the partners in the practice would support her—no matter what the press said.
A Mother's Secret (Mills & Boon Medical) Page 15