Children's Doctor, Meant-To-Be Wife
Then she remembered Robbie Henderson—and Jack and Lily and the other patients—and why she was there. With steady steps and a thundering heart, she made her way towards the building.
‘You are not the wimpy twenty-five-year-old who fell for the first hazel-eyed specialist who looked your way—awed by someone in his position taking notice of a first-year resident,’ she reminded herself, muttering under her breath to emphasise her thoughts. ‘You’re a mature, experienced woman now, a qualified ER doctor and head of the Wallaby Island Medical Centre. All you’re doing is what any sensible medico would do—seeking advice from an expert.’
Who happened to be the love of your life, an inner voice reminded her.
‘Past tense!’ she muttered at the voice, but it had been enough to slow her footsteps and she needed further verbal assurances to get her into the resort.
‘What’s more, he won’t bite you. He’ll want to help. In fact, it’s probably only because he hasn’t heard about the kids being sick that he hasn’t already offered. And he’s kind, he’s always been kind—work-obsessed but, once distracted from his work, very kind…’
She’d been telling herself these things all night, repeating them over and over again to Garf on the fifteen-minute drive through the rainforest that separated the camp and clinic area from the hotel, but the repetition wasn’t doing much to calm her inner agitation, which churned and twisted in her stomach until she felt physically sick.
‘He’s not answering the phone in his room, but if you go through to the Rainforest Retreat, he could be having breakfast there.’
The polite receptionist, having listened to Beth’s explanation of who she was and whom she wanted, now pointed her in the direction of the Rainforest Retreat, a wide conservatory nestled into the rainforest at the back of the hotel building, huge potted palms and ferns making it hard to tell where the real forest ended and the man-made one began.
Beth paused on the threshold, at first in amazement at the spacious beauty of it and then to look around, peering between the palms, her eyes seeking a tall, dark-haired man whose sole focus, she knew from the past, would be his breakfast.
Whatever Angus did, he did with total concentration—yep, there he was, cutting his half-grapefruit into segments, carefully lifting the flesh, a segment at a time, to his mouth, chewing it while he attacked the next segment.
‘The kitchens in hotels never get it cut right through,’ he’d complained during their weekend honeymoon in a hotel in the city, and from then on it had been her mission in life—or one of them—to ensure his grapefruit segments were cut right through.
Although Angus’s morning grapefruit hadn’t been her concern for three years now—three long years…
She was trying to figure out if that made her sad or simply relieved when she saw his concentration falter—his forkful of grapefruit flesh hesitating between the bowl and his mouth. Which was when she realised he had company at the table—company that had been hidden from Beth’s view by a palm frond but was now revealed to be a very attractive woman with long blond hair that swung like a curtain as she turned her head, hiding her perfect features for a moment before swinging back to reveal them again.
Reveal also a certain intimacy with the man who’d returned his concentration to his grapefruit.
Beth’s courage failed and she stood rooted to the spot, wishing there was a palm frond in front of her so no one would see her, or guess at her inability to move.
But she was no longer an anxious first-year resident overawed in the presence of a specialist—she was a competent medical practitioner, and Robbie and the other children needed help.
Now!
Legs aching with reluctance, she forced herself forward, moving like a robot until she reached the table.
The blonde looked up first—way past attractive! Stunning!
If Beth’s heart could have sunk further than her sandals, it would have.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ she said quietly, finally detaching Angus’s attention from his grapefruit, pleased to see he looked as surprised as she felt nervous.
‘Beth?’
The word croaked out, though what emotion caused the hoarseness she couldn’t guess.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you properly last night but Danny, the little boy in the back, he wasn’t well and I wanted to get him to bed. How are you, Angus?’ she managed, blurting out the words while clutching her hands tightly in front of her so he wouldn’t see them shaking.
He stared at her and she wondered if he’d written off her presence in the rainforest the previous evening as a bad dream.
His silent regard tightened her tension and she forgot about maturity and experience and bumbled into speech again.
‘I really am sorry to interrupt, but we’ve a crisis at the medical centre and I—’
She saw from his blank expression that he didn’t understand, just seconds before he echoed, ‘Medical centre?’
‘I thought you’d have heard—there was an official opening yesterday, a gala evening last night here at the hotel. The medical centre’s at the other end of the island—an outpost of Crocodile Creek Hospital on the mainland. There’s always been a small centre here on the island but it was extended because after Cyclone Willie the Crocodile Creek Kids’ Camp was rebuilt and expanded, and with the extensions to the resort it seemed sensible to have an efficient and permanent medical presence on the island.’
The words rattled off her tongue, her apprehension firing them at him like bullets from a gun.
‘Crocodile Creek—that’s Charles Wetherby’s set-up—has a rescue service attached—yes, perhaps I did hear something,’ Angus said, not needing to add, to Beth anyway, that if whatever he’d heard didn’t directly concern him or his work then he’d have filed it away under miscellaneous and tucked it into a far corner of his brain.
But now he was frowning at her, the finely drawn dark brows above hazel eyes encroaching on each other, indenting a single frown line above his long, straight nose.
‘And what has this to do with you?’
The question was too sharp and for the first time it occurred to Beth she should have phoned her ex-husband, not run here like a desperate kid, seeking his help. For a desperate kid was what she felt like now, not mature at all, standing in front of Angus like a child in front of the headmaster in his office at school.
Had this thought communicated itself to Angus that he suddenly stood up, pulled out another chair, and told Beth to sit?
In a very headmasterly voice!
But her knees were becoming so unreliable, what with the lack of sleep last night and the strain of seeing—and talking to—Angus again, that she obeyed without question.
At least now she could hide her hands in her lap and he wouldn’t see them shaking.
Angus sat down again, pushed his nearly finished grapefruit half away and turned his attention to Beth. Most of his attention, that was. Part of it was focussed on pushing back memories and totally unnecessary observations like how tired she looked and the fact that she always looked smaller when she was tired, and she’d lost weight as well, he was willing to bet, and why, after three years, did his hands still want to touch her, to feel the silky softness of her skin, to peel her clothes off and—?
‘Start with why you’re here,’ he began, hoping practicalities would help him regain control, not only of the situation but of his mind and body. ‘Not here in this room right now, but on this island—connected to this medical centre.’
‘I work there. I’m the permanent doctor at the centre. I saw the job advertised and thought it would be wonderful, just what I needed, something different.’
Far too much information! Admittedly she was flustered—wasn’t he?—but…
He shuffled through his mental miscellaneous file—the Crocodile Creek Kids’ Camp was for children with ongoing health problems or disabilities. Had she chosen to work in a place where she’d be seeing these children because of Bobby?
Of course that would be a factor, though it went deeper than that. On a resort island people—especially these kids—came and went. She wouldn’t have to become too involved with any of them, and if she wasn’t involved she wouldn’t get hurt—Beth’s self-protective instincts coming into full play—the same self-protective instincts that had made her adamant about not having another child…
Although maybe he’d suggested that too early—too soon after Bobby’s death…
‘Angus?’
The woman’s voice—not Beth’s, Sally’s—made him wonder if he’d lingered too long in his thoughts. He was usually better than this—quick on the uptake, fast in decision-making, focussed…
He turned to his companion—tall, elegant, beautiful, clever Sally. She was relatively new on his staff, but they’d been dating occasionally and he’d suggested she attend the conference with him thinking…
He glanced towards Beth, weirdly ashamed at what he’d been thinking then furious with himself for the momentary guilt.
‘Sorry, Sally, this is Beth, my ex-wife.’
‘I’ll leave you to catch up,’ Sally said, in a voice that suggested any chance of them getting to know each other better over the weekend had faded fast.
But though he knew she wanted him to tell her to stay—to touch her on the arm as he said it—he made no move to stop her as she stood up with her coffee and raisin toast and moved through the room to another table on the far side, where other conference attendees were enjoying a far noisier breakfast.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset anyone,’ Beth said. ‘I’ll explain quickly, then you can explain to…Sally? I’m sure she’ll understand.’
The words made no sense at all to Angus, who failed to see why Beth should be concerned about Sally. Although Beth did have a habit of being concerned about everyone—even in little ways. He’d remembered that, with a twinge of regret, as he’d wrestled with his grapefruit.
‘There’s a bug going around on our side of the island that presents with flu-like symptoms but three of the children, Jack and Robbie from the kids’ camp and Lily, Charles Wetherby’s ward, are quite seriously sick, very high temperatures that we’re having trouble controlling with drugs, and on top of that are the birds. There are dead birds, shearwaters I think they’re called, all around the island.’
She glanced around and added, ‘Probably not here—the groundspeople would clear them away—but over on our side. Lily picked one up and gave it to Charles, thinking he could cure it. We’ve vulnerable children in the camp, Angus, and although no one’s saying anything, I’m sure in their heads they’re whispering it might be bird flu.’
Her wide-set blue eyes looked pleadingly into his, asking the question she hadn’t put into words.
Would he help?
As if she needed to ask—to plead! He felt a stab of annoyance at her, then remembered that Beth, who’d had so little, would never take anything for granted. And certainly not where he was concerned. Hadn’t he accepted her decision that they should divorce and walked away without another word, burying himself in work, using his ability to focus totally on the problems it presented to blot out the pain, only realising later—too late—that he should have stayed, have argued, have—
But that was in the past and right now she needed help.
‘Do you have transport?’
‘Electric cart parked out the back.’
‘Then let’s go.’
He stood up and reached out to take her hand to help her stand—an automatic action until he saw her flinch away as if his touch might burn her. Pain he thought he’d conquered long ago washed through him.
How had they come to this, he and Beth?
CHAPTER TWO
SKIN prickling with awareness of Angus by her side, Beth led the way back to the cart, then sighed with relief when she saw Garf.
He could sit between them, they could talk about the dog and she wouldn’t have to think of things to say.
‘Good grief, what’s that?’
Beth had to smile. Garf looked more like a tall sheep or a curly goat than a dog.
‘That’s Garf, he loves a ride. Move over, dog!’
Garf had sat up and yapped a welcoming hello. He was now regarding Angus with interest.
Was this a man who knew the exact place to scratch behind a dog’s ear?
‘He’s a labradoodle, a non-allergenic kind of dog,’ Beth replied. ‘The kids love him and when they’re all up and about he’s usually with them. His other great love is riding in carts and it’s impossible to tell him he’s not wanted—he just leaps in.’
To her surprise, Angus and Garf took to each other like old friends, although Angus was firm about not wanting a thirty-odd-kilo dog sitting on his knee.
‘He likes to hang his head out,’ Beth explained apologetically, but Angus had already worked that, easing the dog to the outside of the seat and sliding across so his body was pressed against Beth’s.
‘I could make him run back—it’s not far,’ she said, thoroughly unnerved by the closeness.
‘No, he’s fine,’ Angus said, so airily, she realised with regret, that he wasn’t feeling any of the physical upheaval that was plucking at her nerves and raising goose-bumps on her skin. He might just as well have been sitting next to a statue.
A statue that kept thinking about a blonde called Sally.
‘I’m sorry I interrupted your breakfast,’ Beth said, and although she knew it was none of her business, she plunged on. ‘You and Sally? You’re a couple? That’s good. I’m glad. I’m—’
‘If you say I’m happy for you I’ll probably get out and walk back to the resort!’ Angus growled. ‘For your information, Sally and I are work colleagues, nothing more. We’re here for a conference. I’m giving a paper on Tuesday.’
‘Oh!’
The relief she felt was so totally inappropriate she blustered on.
‘But you’re well. Busy as ever, I suppose?’
Angus turned and gave her a strange look then began to talk about the tiny finches that darted between the fronds of the tree ferns.
So, his personal life was off-limits as far as conversation went—Beth felt a momentary pang of sympathy for Sally who probably was quite interested in her boss and didn’t realise just how detached from emotion Angus was. And personal issues like health and work had just been squashed; what did that leave?
Beth joined the bird conversation!
‘The bird life’s wonderful here,’ she managed, her voice hoarse with the effort of keeping up what was very limp and totally meaningless chat.
‘The night life’s pretty surprising as well,’ he said, ice cool, although he did offer a sardonic smile in case she hadn’t caught his meaning.
‘Well, it was last night,’ she admitted with a laugh, remembering how strange she’d found it, in the past, that Angus, who was usually so serious, could always make her laugh. And with that memory—and the laugh—she relaxed.
Just a little.
‘I nearly died to see a person standing there, then to find it was you.’ She shook her head. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘But very handy, apparently,’ he said, and she had to look at him again, to see if he was teasing her.
But this time his face was serious.
‘Very handy,’ she confirmed, although it wasn’t handy for her heart, which was behaving very badly, bumping around in her chest as if it had come away from its moorings.
‘How long have you been on the island?’
She glanced his way again and her chest ached at the familiarity of his profile—high forehead, strong straight nose, lips defined by a little raised edge that tempted fingers to run over it, and a chin that wasn’t jutting exactly but definitely there. The kind of chin you’d choose not to argue with—that had been her first thought on seeing it.
Forget his chin and answer the question!
‘Only a couple of weeks. I spent some time at the Crocodile Creek Hospital on the mainland, getting to know the staff there, as they—the doctors and the nurses—do rostered shifts at the clinic and, of course, the helicopter rescue and retrieal services the hospital runs are closely connected with the island.’
‘Why here?’ he asked, and she glanced towards him. Big mistake, for he’d turned in her direction and she met the same question in his dark-lashed eyes. Although that might have been her imagination! He had beautiful eyes, but if eyes were the windows of the soul, then she’d never been able to read Angus’s soul, or his emotions, in them.
Except when he’d looked at Bobby. Then she’d seen the love—and the pain…
‘It was somewhere different, a chance to see a new place, experience different medicine, meet new people.’
‘Always high on your priority list,’ Angus said dryly, but this time she refused to glance at him, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the track in front of her.
‘I’ve always liked meeting people,’ she said quietly. ‘I might not be the life and soul of a party, or need to be constantly surrounded by friends, but I enjoy the company of colleagues and patients—you know that, Angus.’
Did she sound hurt? Angus replayed her words—and the intonation—in his head and didn’t think so. She was simply making a statement—putting him down, in fact, though she hadn’t needed to do it because he’d regretted the words the instant they’d been out of his mouth.
For all her shyness, or perhaps because of it, she was good with people, knowing instinctively how to approach them, intuitively understanding their pain or weaknesses, easing her way into their confidence.
‘And are you enjoying it? The island? The people?’
They were on a straight stretch of track, coming out of the thick rainforest into a more open but still treed area, and he could see cabins and huts nestled in private spaces between the trees.
Apparently more sure of the path now, she turned towards him before she answered, and her clear blue eyes—Bobby’s eyes—met his.
‘Oh, yes!’ she said—no hesitation at all. ‘Yes, I am.’
Then her brow creased and she sighed.
‘Or I was until the kids starting getting sick. What shall we do, Angus, if it is bird flu?’
‘Let’s wait and see,’ he said, touching her arm to reassure her.
Or possibly to see if her skin was really as soft as he remembered it…
He shook his head, disturbed that the strength of the attraction he felt towards Beth hadn’t lessened in their years apart. Perhaps it was a good thing she had a problem at the medical centre—something he could get stuck into to divert his mind from memories of the past.
Although sick children were more than just a diversion —they were a real concern.
She pulled up in front of a new-looking building, the ramp at the front of it still trailing tattered streamers and limp balloons. The dog leapt out and began biting at the fluttering streamers, trying to tackle them into submission.
Was this the medical centre and these the remnants of the official opening celebrations? The building was certainly new, and built to merge into its surroundings—tropical architecture, with wide overhangs and floor-to-ceiling aluminium shutters to direct any stray breeze inside. Beautiful, in fact.
‘Around the back,’ Beth said, leading him down a path beside the building. ‘The front part is Administration and a first-aid verging on ER room. The hospital section is behind it, here.’
They walked up another ramp and had barely reached the deck, when a woman with tousled curls and a freckled nose came out through a door, greeting Beth with obvious relief.
‘Thank heavens you’re back,’ she said. ‘I’ve called Charles, but you’re the only one who can calm Robbie. He’s babbling—hallucinating, I think—just when we thought he might have turned the corner.’
‘I’ll go right through,’ Beth said, then, apparently remembering she’d brought him to this place, turned to Angus.
‘Grace, this is Angus. Angus, Grace. He’s the doctor I told you about, Grace. Could you take him around so he can see the other patients, introduce him to Emily if she’s here and Charles when he arrives?’
The ‘doctor’ not ‘ex-husband’, Angus thought, feeling annoyed about the wording for no fathomable reason, though he did manage to greet the distracted nurse politely.
Beth hurried back to Robbie’s room. The virus that had struck the camp had started off with drowsiness, and the children seemed almost to lapse into unconsciousness in between bouts of agitation. Right now Robbie was agitated, tossing and turning in his bed, muttering incoherently, his movements more violent than they’d been during the night.
Beth checked the drip running into his arm, then felt his forehead. Not feverish, she guessed, then picked up his chart to confirm it. The paracetamol she’d given him earlier must be working.
‘Hush, love, it’s all right, I’m here,’ she whispered to the fretful little boy, holding his hands in one of hers and smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead with the other.
But even as he stilled at the sound of her voice, fear whispered in her heart. They were treating the symptoms the patients had without any idea if this was an aggressive cold or something far more sinister. Alex Vavunis, a paediatric neurosurgeon who was a guest on the island, had taken samples of spinal fluid from the sickest patients the previous day, but it was too early to expect results.
Beth knew her assurances could easily be empty—that everything might not be all right for Robbie.
‘We’ve three children not feeling well, still in the camp, but Robbie and Jack are the most severely affected. My ward, Lily, was admitted yesterday and she’s a little better today.’
Beth heard Charles’s voice before she saw him, and turned to see he’d guided his wheelchair silently into the room, Angus seeming taller than ever as he stood beside the chair.
‘How is he, Beth?’
Charles wheeled closer as he asked the question.
Beth shook her head.
‘Agitated,’ she said, ‘although there is some good news. Jack seems a little better this morning. Lily?’
She heard Charles’s sigh and knew the little girl must still be unstable.
‘Jill has been with her most of the night. And Grace tells me you’ve been here all night. You should go home and rest.’
‘I dozed between checking on the others,’ Beth assured him. ‘Emily’s on duty today, but I’ll stay now in case Angus needs some help with tests or information.’
She glanced towards the man who had moved to the chair beside Robbie’s bed and was reading through the notes on his chart.
‘You’ve how many sick?’ Angus asked, looking at Charles who nodded to Beth to reply.
‘We have the adult from the resort, one of the rangers and three children, making a total of five. There are another three children at the camp showing symptoms. We’ve moved those three to a cabin and the staff and volunteers there are entertaining them, keeping them as quiet as possible and making sure they take in plenty of fluids. Among the staff, the rangers, even people at the resort, there could be more who are simply not feeling well, people feeling the “beginning of flu” symptoms but who haven’t said anything.’
‘And you’re how far off the mainland?’
This time Charles fielded Angus’s question himself. ‘A half-hour flight by helicopter—less by seaplane.’
‘You’ve got to close the island, Charles,’ Angus said. ‘You must have had similar thoughts yourself, given the number of dead birds you say have been found. We have to quarantine the whole place—resort, national park, the camp and eco-resort—at least until we know more. It’s a thousand to one chance it’s anything sinister, but even that’s too big a chance to take.’
Beth stared at him, sure her jaw had dropped in disbelief.
‘You’re serious? You think it could be bird flu?’
She looked at the little boy still twitching restlessly on the bed and pain washed through her.