Once the local had made the area numb, Shane gave the wound another good clean, checked the depth and proceeded to sew the wound shut with quick, deft movements, quietly sure and confident.
Emma stood to the side, dabbing away the welling blood so he could have a clear view of the wound and stitching.
Dressing it minutes later, she had to admit that he’d done a nice, neat job. While she gave Hank instructions on keeping the dressing dry, Shane sat at the computer in the corner of the room to type in the notes and write up an antibiotic script. After sending Hank off to pay Harriet at the reception and make an appointment to return for removal of sutures, Emma started to clean up the trolley and dispose of the used items.
She’d expected Shane to disappear once his notes were done, but he swung around to watch her, long legs clad in khaki pants spread wide, shoes braced on the floor, arms folded loosely across the blue scrub top he wore showing an impressive display of biceps.
Okay, his biceps might not be as impressive as Mitch’s, but they were pretty yummy in Emma’s opinion.
Leaning back in the chair, thoroughly at ease, he watched her.
Okay, this wasn’t what she expected. In fact, it made her self-conscious, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Doc sometimes stayed back if he had time to chat about a patient or something completely unrelated to the practice, but she’d never felt self-conscious with him.
Shane was a whole other ball game.
Wiping down the trolley, she glanced questioningly at him. “No patient waiting for you?”
His knees swayed lazily to and for as he swivelled the chair side-to-side. “Nope.”
“Don’t worry, your list will pick up.”
“I’m sure it will. I’ve already got appointments for the rest of the week trickling in.”
“Ah.” Why didn’t he leave? “It’ll be good for the town to have another doctor.”
“Yep.” Lifting his arms, he bent his elbows to interlink his fingers behind his head, his posture completely relaxed.
He was settling in for the long haul.
Too bad for him. She had things to do.
“Gives you time to check things out more thoroughly, right?” Pushing the trolley back into the corner, she wiped down the cushioned table patients laid on while minor surgery was performed.
“It’s interesting.” His gaze tracked her movements. “All practices run a little differently.”
“Yes.”
His gaze traced slowly up her arm and, even though she knew it was fanciful, she could almost believe he left a very warm path in the wake. Finally his eyes locked with hers. “You’ve worked in a few?”
“No. This is the first.” And now it was time to bolt before he started asking too many questions. “Okay, I better get back to work.” She rolled out a new covering of paper on the table, tore it off at the serrated edges and placed the roll back in the cupboard.
“So-” he began.
Oh shit no. “I’d love to stay and chat, Shane, really.” She started for the door. “But I have Tom Grady next and he gets a little snippy if he’s kept waiting for too long.” She flashed him a you-know-how-people-can-be grimace. “Hank’s appearance has already set Tom back, so…”
“Oh yeah, I understand.” Smile quick and bright, Shane pushed to his feet.
Thank goodness.
“We’ll have time for a nice chat over lunch.”
“Okay.” That’d give her time to gather her slightly rattled senses.
“I’ll meet you at Daz’s.”
“Huh?” She stopped mid-step to glance over her shoulder at him.
“I owe you lunch.”
“You what?”
“Friday.” At her blank expression, he added, “You were obviously going to get lunch at Daz’s but because of the whole - you know.” He flapped his hand like that held all the answers.
It took several seconds for realisation to surface. “Oh. Oh, you mean when I knocked you down.”
“Yep. It didn’t take much to piece together the fact that you were parked outside Daz’s café yet you only ate Sao’s for lunch.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” she rushed to reassure him. “Not having a bite to eat now and again isn’t going to hurt me.”
“You’re working, Em. You can’t afford to miss a meal.”
“Trust me, I have reserves.” Laughing, she pointed at her body. “Plenty of reserves.”
“Don’t see where,” he replied.
“Then you need glasses,” she returned. “But truthfully-”
“I don’t need glasses, and truthfully, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
That had her blinking.
It had her blinking even more when he strode up to her, stopping only when she unconsciously backed up against the wall as he towered over her. Unsure what, exactly, she’d done wrong, she eyed his frown. “Um…I’m sorry if I offended you with the glasses remark.”
He surprised her by asking, “You’re not skipping meals to lose weight, are you?”
“Of course not.” She attempted a small smile. “Not that it’d hurt me to do it now and again.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you ever do it, Emma.”
Her mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”
Before he could reply, the sound of Doc’s door opening and voices coming from his office had them both glancing towards it.
Shane reacted instantly, stepping back, his features smoothing out pleasantly. “I’ll meet you at Daz’s for lunch.”
Alarmed, she swallowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Expression remaining pleasant, but his eyes serious, Shane said quietly, “Be there, Emma.” With that, he stepped back with a cheerful, “See you at Daz’s for lunch,” and walked back to his room.
What could Emma do with Doc calling out to her, “Bring me back a big slab of ham and cheese quiche” and giving her a cheery wave before disappearing back into his room?
Looking at Shane’s open doorway, she rubbed her hands together nervously. She’d obviously struck a nerve with him, but she wasn’t sure just what it was all about. To be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go to lunch with him after his unexpected reaction, but how could she refuse now? What explanation could she give Doc, because sure as God made green apples he was going to start questioning and no amount of excuses was going to cut it.
No, all she could do was turn up at Daz’s and hope to goodness she could get through it without irritating Shane anymore than she’d already unwittingly done.
Oh joy.
She’d already lost her appetite.
Chapter 4
Shane had wanted to sit and chat to Emma but life, apparently, had a different agenda for him right now, because an emergency call came from the hospital and next thing he was elbow deep in trying to stabilise a car accident victim. It took him and the three nurses from three different areas of the hospital to do it. But he had to admit relief when the RFDS was spotted, their ETA confirmed, and the patient was loaded back into the ambulance. He accompanied them out to the airfield, sitting in the back with the ambo, Jesse, as they monitored the patient.
Handing over to the RFDS doctor was done quickly, and it seemed no time before the plane was winging its way to the city and more sophisticated trauma services.
Bumming a ride back to town with the ambos, he was dropped off at the hospital where he finalised the paperwork, ensuring he’d dotted every i and crossed every t. Only then did he return to the clinic to find only his Dad still there going through paperwork. Everyone else had knocked off for the day.
Passing the treatment room, he glanced in with the vain hope that Emma would have lingered for some reason, but nope, the pretty nurse was gone.
“Hey, son.” Doc glanced up as Shane entered his room. “I heard about the accident. How’s Ben?”
“He’s stable.” Dropping into the spare chair, Shane stretched out his legs. “How he managed to survive is another stor
y. The car was totalled.”
Doc put down his pen. “You saw it?”
“Jesse said it rolled several times before smashing into the electrical pole.” Shane sighed. “Speed is suspected, but we won’t know right away. The cops were out there doing their stuff.”
“I know Ben.” Doc blew out a breath. “The kid can be reckless at times.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t think my first day on the job would include emergency.”
“Yeah, well, that’s small town life for you. Everything is hunky-dory one minute, then the next minute the proverbial hits the fan.”
“Nicely put.”
“And you and I and a small handful of others have to keep pieces together until the RFDS arrives.” Doc squinted “Literally, sometimes.”
“The RFDS arriving?”
“Keeping pieces together.”
Shane didn’t even blink. “Done that a few times.”
“Yep. A&E departments bring a lot of pieces in. Our job is to patch them enough to go up to surgery.” Doc paused. “Not much different now, really, except we have to wait for the RFDS. Anyway, can’t be changed.” He started scribbling on a form. “You coming over for tea tonight?”
“Nah, but thanks. I’m meeting up with the mob at Mitch’s house.”
“Well, you lot have fun.” Doc glanced up. “It’s your Mum’s roast pork.”
Shane practically salivated at the thought. “If I’d known that, I’d have cancelled the mob tonight.”
“Don’t sweat it, boy, I’ll take care of your share.”
“Very big of you, Dad.”
“I know, but it’s my job to take care of my son.”
Shane gave him a droll look.
Growing serious, Doc leaned back in his chair and studied him. “So, how’d you like your first day?”
Shane grinned. “Before, during or after the emergency?”
“All.”
Growing serious in turn, Shane met his gaze steadily. “I like it, Dad. Don’t worry.”
“It’s mostly quiet here.”
“I know. I grew up here.”
“Not exciting like city doctoring can be.”
“Dad.” He leaned forward to lay one hand reassuringly on Doc’s arm. “I’ve worked in rural areas before, lived in them, remember? I know Hope Bay, grew up here. Trust me, I’ve seen and done enough both in the city and in the country to know that this is what I want.”
Doc gazed at him for several seconds before relaxing, a smile creeping across his face. “Good to know.” Picking up his pen, he flourished it in the air. “Just checking we hadn’t scared you away on your first day in Daddy’s practice.”
“Cripes. Daddy?”
“Yes, son?”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Sounded like one to me.” Doc’s eyes twinkled. “Mummy, too.”
“Mummy?”
“You’ll have to call her louder than that, she won’t hear you.”
Shane’s eyes rolled. “I am not calling you Mummy and Daddy.”
“No, because I’m just the Daddy. Sonny.”
“Now I remember why Mum gets so exasperated around you sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” Doc’s mouth made a little moue of disappointment. “I’m slipping.”
Laughing, Shane stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Reaching out, he gave Doc’s hair a hearty ruffle.
“Oy!” Doc slapped his hand away. “I don’t have a lot of hair left, boy, don’t rub the rest away!”
Chuckling, Shane left, going to the bathroom to change into shorts, sneakers and t-shirt. Leaving his work shoes in one of the cupboards set aside for the staff belongings, he slung the backpack with his work clothes in over his shoulders and went out the back to retrieve the push bike. Fastening the helmet, he swung astride it and kicked up the stand. Within minutes he was pedalling up the street towards home.
The ride took only ten minutes, within no time he was turning into the driveway. Swinging off the bike, he stored it in the garage beside the car, locking the door before going into the house he was renting from his father.
Like so many in Hope Bay, this house was old but well-maintained, no surprise given that his dad was his landlord. Wood panelling halfway up the wall, paint the rest, furnished with the comfortable furniture he’d brought back from the city.
Striding into the kitchen, he dropped the backpack onto the table, got a Coke from the ‘fridge, popped the tab and took a long drink, leaning back against the kitchen sink as he gazed at the wall, thinking about the accident, going over in his mind everything he’d done, something he was prone to.
After several minutes of doing a mental check list, he took another swallow of Coke in the comfortable knowledge that he’d done everything he could and covered his arse legally. People thought being a doctor was all glory, saving lives, but along with that came a lot of ethical and legal issues as well, and he had to make sure he covered every bit of it - doing right by the patient and doing everything legally.
Check and check, all bases covered.
He just couldn’t help being one of those blokes who, even though he’d done everything right the first time around, still did a mental check later.
Time to put that baby to bed.
Another swallow of Coke before he returned the tin to the ‘fridge, raided the packet of Tim Tams, and with one in his mouth and another in his hand, he went to the bathroom to strip off and shower.
An hour later he was pulling up in Mitch’s driveway, right behind Katie’s little blue van and Danny’s motorbike. Steve had no doubt walked from the hotel not far away, while Daz had probably bummed a ride from Katie.
Voices sounded from the lounge room window as Shane took the two steps in one stride and stopped on the front veranda.
“Mate.” Opening the security screen, Mitch looked him up and down. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“What?”
“Big manly stride up the steps.” His friend stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “No one was watching, for your information.”
“I couldn’t give a hoot, for your information.”
“Bird analogies now?”
“Are you going to let me in or what?”
“I don’t know.” Mitch stood blocking the doorway, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Look, you dick, you invited me here.”
“Maybe that was for my own perverse pleasure.”
After a second’s silence during which Shane digested the words, he said, “I sincerely hope you don’t mean that.”
Mitch stared at him. “Huh?”
“Think about it.”
Shane could practically see the cogs turning inside Mitch’s head, then along came the light of, well, enlightenment.
“Shit no!” Mitch recoiled.
“You needn’t be so grossed out.” Shane flicked an imaginary hair off his shirt. “I’m considered quite the catch, you know.”
“Not by me.”
Leaning close, Shane leered. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“And I intend to keep it that way.” Mitch stood aside, then paused, his gaze tracking something over Shane’s shoulder. “Now there’s something worth catching.”
Shane glanced over his shoulder, did a double take, and then smiled. Widely. Well well well, if it wasn’t his pretty little nurse.
Emma was walking past, curvy figure clad in yellow pedal pushers, black ballet flats and a pale yellow blouse with puffy sleeves. Talk about a little ray of sunshine. In fact, the late afternoon sun was picking out golden glints in her fair hair, which she’d left loose to dance around her shoulders in waves.
The woman was downright yummy. In fact, he was almost salivating as much as he did when he thought about his mother’s roast pork, but it wasn’t quite the same. In fact, it was very far from the same. He leaned further out, grabbing onto the veranda post as she continued past. She faced
forward, lost to the fact that he was watching her.
He stretched further out as she passed, watching right up until she disappeared around the corner of the street.
Then, with a sigh, he pulled back, turned around…and found five faces watching him with varying degrees of amusement and interest. Every one of his friends was now standing grouped on the veranda watching him like he was entertainment.
Which, he knew, he was. Oops.
“Love that car,” he said.
“What car?” Katie asked.
“The red one.”
“There was no red car,” Daz said.
“Sure there was.”
“No, I’m pretty sure there wasn’t,” Mitch added.
“I’m pretty sure there was.”
“I’m sure there was something pretty,” Daz said.
“And it wasn’t the car,” Steve drawled.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” He tried to push past. “We going in? I’m starving.”
Mitch didn’t budge, the big bastard, just stood there with his ham-like arms folded, one eyebrow arched as he looked down at Shane. “You were watching Emma.”
“Emma who?”
“Oh man.” Katie grinned. “You’ve got it bad.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” He made another futile shove at Mitch.
“So you wouldn’t care if I asked her out?” Steve queried.
Like hell he wouldn’t. Shane finally pushed past Mitch - mostly because his friend had shifted to allow him - and managed to shove his elbow into his other friend’s stomach with a little force.
Steve gasped and bent over. “Bastard!”
Danny snorted a laugh.
Shane tried to escape down the hallway but the whole mob of them followed him into the kitchen like a pack of vultures all wanting a piece of him.
Opening the pizza box, he took out a slice and sunk his teeth into it while turning to survey them all with a bored raised eyebrow. It would have worked, too, if his eyes didn’t start watering from the burn of something freakin’ hot.
“Gah!” He spat out the mouthful into his hand and stared at it in horror. “Friggin’ chillies? Who ordered friggin’ chillies on the pizza?”
Secrets (Hope Bay) Page 9