Tempting Dr. Templeton

by Judy Campbell

  She flung open the door and her eyes widened in astonishment. The last person in the world she expected was standing there—Andy Templeton!

  He was dressed in shorts, a loose open shirt and trainers. He looked fit and tanned, and very, very attractive!

  ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she gasped, her stomach doing a complete somersault at his appearance. Somehow he seemed even more devastating away from work, his open shirt revealing a tanned muscular chest that did her heart rhythm no good at all! His unexpected appearance had given her no time to put up her guard, she thought ruefully, uncomfortably aware of her tousled hair and whiter-than-white morning face.

  He grinned. ‘I was cleaning out the car yesterday and I found an earring—probably from our evening out at The Cascades two weeks ago.’ He held out the little pearl clip, one of a pair Lily had given her. ‘Thought you might have missed it, so I decided to drop it off on my way to a run on the beach.’ He paused for a second and looked at her searchingly. ‘I don’t seem to have seen you much to talk to—except at meetings—since then.’

  ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s been rather a busy two weeks…’

  A wail sounded behind them. Rosie looked in a harassed way behind her and then back at Andy rather apologetically. ‘Thanks a lot. I’m afraid I can’t ask you in. Everything’s happened at once—Amy’s got a virus, the washing machine’s flooded and I’m supposed to be at the surgery in twenty minutes.’

  Andy looked at her stressed face with an amused twinkle. ‘Then I’m your man! Always available in an emergency!’ He paused for a second and looked at her quizzically. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t call on me immediately anyway. That’s what colleagues—and friends—are for, surely?’

  Rosie flushed rather uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t realise that Amy wasn’t well until we got up. I thought it was a bit late to ring anyone and, of course, Ben’s taken all his children sailing…’

  Andy followed Rosie into the kitchen and went over to Amy, putting a gentle hand on her forehead and pursing his lips.

  ‘Poor little girl,’ he remarked. ‘She does seem hot. You must stay here with her. I’ll take your surgery.’

  Rosie looked at him and burst out laughing. ‘Dressed like that?’ she said. ‘I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but perhaps you look just a little casual!’

  ‘Think I might frighten the patients away? Don’t worry—I’ve got a tracksuit in the car so I shouldn’t offend the more sensitive souls. It would give you time to get a plumber…and,’ he added softly, ‘be with Amy. She needs you now.’

  Rosie bit her lip and went across to her desolate little daughter, whose flushed cheeks had big tears rolling down them. She stroked Amy’s damp hair back from her forehead. He was right—she had a choice now and, whatever her feelings about Andy, she should accept his offer. Her priority had to be Amy, and a huge flood of relief swept over her that she could look after the toddler herself.

  ‘Thanks…thanks so much. I’d be really grateful if you would. I’ll swop with one of yours next week.’

  ‘I’d like a better reward than that,’ he said softly, taking Amy out of her high chair and patting her gently on the back as she started coughing. ‘When Amy’s better I’d like you to come to the beach with me. We’d all enjoy a picnic, wouldn’t we?’

  Rosie looked at the large man holding the small child so gently and felt a lump come to her throat. This was how it could have been for Amy if she’d had a father to cherish her, someone to care about her if she was sick. It was at times like this that she felt the loneliness of widowhood more than ever…

  ‘Yes…She would love that, Andy.’ She added as an afterthought, ‘And so would I.’

  ‘Right! I’ll be off, then. Hope Amy feels better soon. I prescribe plenty of TLC and a little bit of Calpol! I’ll be back later to report on anything that arises in the surgery and to see this small patient!’

  Cuddling Amy, Rosie watched from the door as he strode briskly down the path in his shorts, a gurgle of laughter surging up inside her at the thought of him taking surgery dressed like that. He was a man of surprises, and today she was more grateful to him than she would have thought possible. ‘Now, my darling,’ she whispered to Amy, ‘let’s see if we can’t get you a little bit better before Andy gets back!’ Quite suddenly, her frazzled feelings of a few minutes ago seemed to have evaporated and she felt unexpectedly lighthearted. He came just in the nick of time, she thought thankfully.

  Almost guiltily she reflected that just when she’d begun to think she had her feelings for Andy under control—wham! He calls at the house and her knees go to jelly again! So much for good intentions…

  She cradled Amy in her arms, and gradually the two-year-old’s eyes began to droop. Rosie laid her gently on the sofa with a cushion against her side to stop her falling off, and quickly rang Veronica to tell her what had happened.

  ‘Hopefully she’ll be much better on Monday but if she isn’t, could you possibly come round here?’

  ‘No problem,’ Veronica assured her. ‘If you need me before then, let me know.’

  She was a star, reflected Rosie, blessing the day Veronica had walked into the surgery over some minor health matter and she’d discovered that Veronica was a fully trained nursery nurse looking for work after the nursery she’d worked at had closed down.

  Getting a plumber was more difficult, but after three tries she managed to get someone local who promised to come at lunchtime. She started to mop up the water that spread over the kitchen floor and put on the kettle for some tea. After all the morning’s problems she still felt slightly nauseous and thirsty—perhaps drinking plenty would flush whatever she had out of her system.

  She sat down with a sigh of relief beside Amy on the sofa and fell into a deep sleep.

  It was the noise that woke Rosie—a stertorous, hoarse, gasping sound beside her. It took a few seconds to realise that it was Amy—her precious little girl, fighting for her breath and every few seconds giving a barking cough.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Rosie swept the child up in her arms. ‘What was I thinking of, falling asleep when you’re ill?’

  Consumed by guilt, she rushed into the kitchen, still holding Amy and rubbing her back gently. With one hand she put on the kettle, filled four pans with water and put them on the stove, willing them all to boil quickly and steam up the atmosphere to soothe Amy’s inflamed airways.

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart, you’re going feel better very soon.’ Rosie forced her voice to sound calm and controlled—just what she always advised the young mothers to do whose children had croup and had worked themselves up into a state of panic, she thought wryly.

  Amy wasn’t responding to her mother’s soothing voice—it seemed to Rosie her breathing was getting more laboured and there was a grunting noise as she fought for each breath. Rosie suppressed the feelings of anxiety that were threatening to overtake her and paralyse her into inaction.

  ‘Please, Amy, don’t get worse, my darling.’

  She opened her medical bag on the kitchen table and pulled out her stethoscope, cramming the earpieces into her ears and putting the trumpet end on Amy’s chest. Listening to the whistling, wheezing sounds of Amy’s lungs and the galloping heartbeat, it only confirmed her fears. She had to get Amy to hospital as soon as possible.

  Her mouth dry, she rushed to the front door and, her free hand shaking, managed to open it with great difficulty. She decided it was quicker to take Amy to the local hospital herself rather than phone for an ambulance and hope it wouldn’t take too long. As she ran to the garage, still holding Amy, a car drew up outside the gate, and with an overwhelming feeling of relief Rosie watched Andy step out of the car and walk towards the cottage. She rushed towards him with Amy held tightly in her arms, trying to force the words out of her dry mouth.

  ‘Andy—quick—it’s Amy. Her breathing’s bad…it could be croup. I think she needs the hospital…’

  He took one look at the child, summing
up the situation instantly. ‘Get in,’ he said briskly, opening the back door of the car. ‘Don’t worry—we’ll be there in five minutes.’

  He took out his mobile phone from the glove department of his car and punched in some numbers.

  ‘Porlstone General? Dr Templeton here—give me Fast Track Admissions. I have an infant here in acute respiratory distress—have a paediatrician and anaesthetist standing by. We’ll be with you directly.’

  Andy pulled away smoothly from the pavement and looked in his driving mirror at Rosie rocking Amy in her lap. He could see the distress on Rosie’s face.

  ‘Keep calm,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I’m sure she won’t need intubating—you know it’s just a sensible precaution to have everyone, including the anaesthetist, prepared.’

  Rosie managed to give him a watery smile. ‘Of course. It’s the best thing to do…’ she whispered.

  Dr Miles, the paediatrician, was waiting when they arrived. Rosie hardly noticed the surroundings of the hospital and that particular antiseptic smell that seemed to hover around such places. All she was aware of was the kindly face of the plump little nurse setting up the humidified oxygen tent around Amy, and how defenceless and small her daughter seemed, lying in the cot.

  Dr Miles gave a grin of recognition to Andy as they came up.

  ‘Well, what a coincidence! Andy Templeton! It’s good to see you. Last time we met you were working in Casualty here. I didn’t know you’d come back to this neck of the woods.’

  Andy shook his hand and turned to Rosie. ‘Allow me to introduce Rosie Loveday—Amy’s mum. Rosie’s a colleague of mine in practice in Porlstone. Rosie, this is Gareth Miles—we were at med school together and seem to meet up from time to time!’

  ‘I can certainly tell you’re mother and daughter,’ remarked Gareth Miles, giving Rosie a reassuring smile. He looked down at the distressed toddler in the cot and rubbed the trumpet end of his stethoscope in his hand to warm it.

  ‘I’ll just have a listen to Amy’s chest for a second—as I’m sure you diagnosed yourself, she’s probably got croup. It’s quite unusual in the summer, but we have had a few cases in recently.’

  He bent over the small wheezing child, gently placed the stethoscope on her chest and listened intently, moving the instrument around. Amy began to cry restlessly, her face a picture of misery, her little voice hoarse.

  Gareth straightened up and stroked the baby’s cheek gently. ‘There, there, little one, perhaps Mum could cuddle you for a minute to calm you down.’

  Rosie gathered her small daughter up in her arms and rocked her gently to and fro, her own eyes filling up with tears which she tried to blink away. Gradually Amy’s cries subsided to a choking whimper and her eyes began to droop. The paediatrician watched Rosie with sympathy.

  ‘It’s not easy to be objective when it’s your own child, is it?’

  Rosie put Amy back in the cot and sighed, and the nurse adjusted the oxygen tent.

  ‘I shan’t ever complain about fussing parents again,’ she admitted in a small voice. ‘The way I’ve reacted to Amy being ill is a lesson to me!’

  Gareth smiled. ‘Don’t worry too much. Her chest isn’t very good at the moment, but I’m sure after a short period of oxygen it’ll rapidly improve. We might also give her some nebulised adrenalin if she’s not responding. Because it’s viral in nature we won’t give antibiotics unless there’s any suggestion of a secondary infection—but I don’t see any cause for too much alarm. I’ll be back in about half an hour to review her. So see you both soon!’

  He strode off down the ward.

  ‘She’ll soon be on the mend,’ the nurse said comfortingly. ‘It’s amazing how soon little ones swing from one extreme to the other.’ She looked perceptively at Rosie’s white face and dark-circled eyes. ‘Amy’s asleep now. Why don’t you and your husband go and have a cup of tea for a few minutes?’ she suggested. ‘I’ll be keeping a close watch on her until Dr Miles comes back.’

  Rosie felt too tired to correct her mistake regarding Andy and, close to tears, whispered, ‘I can’t leave her…If she should wake up….’

  Andy put a comforting arm round her shoulders. ‘A hot drink will do you the world of good,’ he said firmly. ‘We’re only a minute down the corridor and the sister knows where we are.’

  Rosie took a lingering glance at Amy’s flushed face, and allowed herself to be led away. She looked up at Andy’s strong, kind face. ‘I’ve ruined your Saturday for you,’ she sighed. ‘You could have been keeping fit on the beach!’

  ‘Don’t be so darned ridiculous!’ He tightened his hold on her slightly and grinned down at her. ‘What kind of a monster do you think I am that I could enjoy pounding along the sands when Amy’s not well?’

  ‘I should never have fallen asleep when she was ill…’

  ‘Nonsense—there’s simply no need to feel guilty. You probably woke up as soon as she started to wheeze—and now you know very well she’s in safe hands.’

  Rosie flicked a glance up at Andy—how utterly marvellous it was to have someone who understood how she was feeling to reassure her. It was so long since Tony had been around that having someone to unload her troubles to wasn’t something she was used to. She’d forgotten what a very comforting feeling it was. She allowed him to shepherd her to an empty table in the canteen.

  He placed a cup of steaming tea in front of Rosie, and she sipped it gratefully, smiling shakily across at him. ‘I don’t know how to thank you. If you hadn’t arrived when you did…’

  ‘She’ll be fine—you know that better than anyone. Young children can develop high temperatures very quickly and then settle down.’ He looked at her appraisingly. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky yourself. Have you been feeling all right?’

  Rosie shrugged. ‘I think I’ve probably caught a bit of what Amy’s been incubating, but I feel much better than I did, actually—quite hungry, in fact! Probably the relief of getting Amy somewhere safe.’

  He grinned at her. ‘Are you so hungry you could even manage a hospital sandwich?’

  Rosie looked at the next table where a large man in overalls was attacking a huge bacon buttie with great gusto. The smell had been wafting over enticingly. Suddenly an overwhelming and surprisingly ravenous feeling came over her—she longed for the salty taste of bacon encased in thick buttered bread!

  ‘That smells pretty tempting,’ she admitted longingly.

  ‘You’re every wish is my command,’ Andy said, getting up and returning with two plates filled with bacon and rolls. He watched with amusement as Rosie tucked into her portion. ‘You’re looking better already,’ he observed. ‘Perhaps your blood sugar was a bit low—no breakfast, I bet.’

  ‘I was a bit fraught this morning,’ she admitted. ‘Everything seemed to happen at once, and there was no one to turn to.’ She started to pleat her paper serviette rather carefully and looked at him under her eyelashes. ‘That was why it was such a…relief to see you, and it was very kind of you to take over my work.’

  ‘I was glad to be of help. After all, it’s what good friends are for, isn’t it—to come to the rescue?’

  Andy looked at her steadily, a half-smile on his lips, and Rosie felt the colour rise in her cheeks. His slight emphasis on the word ‘friends’ hadn’t escaped her notice. If only they could be just that—friends—without the complications of that overwhelming sexual attraction she felt for him.

  ‘You were a true friend today Andy,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I…I don’t know what I’d have done without you, or how I can thank you enough.’

  ‘I’ve told you before.’ He chuckled. ‘All the thanks I want is for you to let me take you both for an afternoon out. If Amy’s better, how about next weekend with buckets, spades and ice cream?’

  To say no would have seemed churlish, especially when she felt such gratitude to him. ‘That would be lovely,’ she murmured. Part of her sang at the thought, but part of her was filled with apprehension as to how she could stop her
life becoming too entwined with someone whose priorities were far away.

  ‘Then I’ll keep you to it.’ Andy’s voice was mocksevere , but his eyes were twinkling. ‘It would be nice if Lily could come, too, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, yes—that would be great! It’s so kind of you.’ She wondered if it was too transparently obvious that she didn’t want to risk being alone with him!

  His strong hand grasped hers over the table and squeezed it gently. ‘Remember, Rosie,’ he said with some urgency, ‘friendship is a two-way thing. “Loving friendships” are rare—one ought to nurture them.’ He was silent for a second, then he added rather bitterly, ‘I’m afraid Sonia never thought of me as a friend—more as a meal ticket.’

  Rosie looked at him quickly. Was that why Sonia had left him? Their eyes locked for a second and, as if reading her mind, Andy nodded sadly. ‘I’m afraid we married in the first euphoria of attraction, before we got to know each other very well. When Sonia discovered my family wasn’t loaded with money, she rather lost interest. I hope what we have will be deeper than that!’

  Andy’s eyes swept over Rosie’s flushed face and tousled hair. She had such a natural look about her, he reflected. One of the lucky few who needed little makeup, with long lashes sweeping over high cheekbones and a scattering of freckles over a retroussé nose, and full sensual lips that he longed to kiss. What a contrast she was to Sonia, who had every type of beauty treatment available, was on a perpetual diet and whose main topic of conversation was money! Her only redeeming feature was that she adored Keiron, he thought grimly.

  Rosie looked down at her hands, confused about what she saw in Andy’s eyes. When he looked at her like that, and spoke to her in those terms, it was difficult not to believe that he felt more for her than a passing attraction. Hadn’t he just said he hoped their friendship would be a ‘loving’ one? Perhaps after all she could allow herself to dream that she wasn’t just a brief diversion and that she might, one day, be a part of his life.