His Island Bride

by Marion Lennox

  These guys were good. They summed up the situation in seconds, hauled chains from the back of the truck they'd arrived in, one of them climbed up the crane and attached the new chain, they hooked it to the collapsed end of the boat and two minutes later the whole load was raised.

  The moment the boat was high enough Sam and Susie hauled Henry clear. By now the morphine was kicking in, enough for Henry to raise a small 'Hooray' as he emerged.

  He could well say hooray. He'd been incredibly lucky.

  Once clear of the boat they were free to examine him properly. As Sam ran his hands over Henry he thought it had been little short of a miracle that the guy hadn't been killed.

  'I'm thinking that shoulder's just dislocated,' Sam said, feeling it with care.

  'Will I still have to go to hospital?' Henry quavered.

  'I'll ring the coastguard,' Susie snapped, relieved that the drama was over but still terse.

  'I could possibly put it back in here,' Sam said and she frowned.

  'Without X-rays?'

  'It seems a simple dislocation.' He met Henry's anxious stare. 'I'm an orthopaedic surgeon,' he told him. 'I do know what I'm doing. Susie, do you have any muscle relaxants in that magic medical kit of yours?'

  'What sort of relaxants?'

  He named a couple of drugs and she nodded. 'It's set up as a dispensary so I can give stuff on doctor's phone orders.'

  'Well, then,' he said. 'I've treated hundreds of dislocated shoulders in my time. What are we waiting for?'

  And ten minutes later it was done. He pulled down and forward, the bones slid smoothly back into place and the white-faced Henry was almost back to normal.

  'Thanks, Doc,' he whispered as the onlookers raised a small cheer.

  'Think nothing of it.'

  'Lionel will drive you home,' Susie said.

  'I'll drive myself home,' Henry said, sounding offended.

  'You try and your car keys are going to the bottom of the harbour,' Susie snapped. 'You have more than enough drugs on board to put you straight to sleep. Show some sense for once in your life. Oh, and expect a bill from me, from Dr Renaldo and from the guys I've had to call out. Next time you want to save yourself live dollars, Henry Martin, you do it on someone else's patch.'

  And that was that. They drove back to the other side of the island in silence. Susan was so tired she was ready to drop. It was close to midnight. It was dumb that she'd let Sam ride in her car—if he'd followed he could be at Doris's right now and she'd be driving home and things would almost be back to normal.

  Except how could things be back to normal now Sam had arrived?

  If only he didn't look like Grant.

  Was that the only problem?

  There was also the issue of having thought she'd left the past behind her. Although she'd sent photographs of the boys to Grant, she'd long since accepted he wanted nothing to do with them. Their upbringing was her responsibility. Well it still was, but this man's presence unnerved her.

  He was silent now. He'd be tired, too, she thought. This morning's drama would still be taking its toll. He'd risked his life today. A man didn't do that without questioning something deeply fundamental within himself.

  Or did he? What would she know about men? She was working on the example of her grandpa. Maybe Grandpa alone wasn't representative but then enquiring further had landed her with Grant, and she wasn't going there again.

  But she shouldn't categorise this man according to Grant. It wasn't fair, even if they did look so alike it made her edgy. He wasn't like Grant. He'd taken over tonight, taking the responsibility from her shoulders, making her feel almost light-headed with relief.

  He wasn't like Grant. He was responsible. He was practical. He was seriously skilled.

  He was.. .gorgeous.

  'Are you OK?' she asked cautiously into the stillness, and he glanced across at her as if her question had surprised him.

  'I'm fine.'

  'When did you land in Australia?'

  'Five o'clock this morning.'

  'You're kidding.'

  'No.'

  'You got straight in a car and came here?'

  'It's only five hours.'

  'You're nuts.'

  'I wanted to get it over with.'

  There was another silence at that. Lots of unanswered questions.

  'You wanted to hand over the cheque and run,' she said at last.

  'There didn't seem much point in hanging around.'

  'There doesn't,' she said, carefully extending his meaning. 'So you'll be leaving tomorrow?'

  'I'd imagine it might be difficult to replace my hire car and get off the island.'

  'Anyone with a boat will take you.'

  'You mean Henry.'

  'I think our Henry might be feeling a bit sorry for himself for a day or two. But there's always someone ready to row for cash.'

  '1 thought you said we were headed for bad weather.'

  'Motor for cash, then.'

  'I get seasick,' he said. And then he hesitated. 'No. Susan, I want to meet the twins.'

  Here it was, then. That which she'd most feared. 'They're nothing to do with you,' she managed. 'I still want to meet them. I believe it's my—'

  'Right?' she finished for him, her fears growing. 'What right would that be?'

  'They're my nephews.'

  'Grant's never acknowledged them.'

  'He has. By sending you this cheque.'

  'Then you can rip it up now,' she snapped.

  'No.'

  'It's not buying you rights.'

  There was a pause. A regrouping while they both figured out where they stood.

  'I'm sorry,' he said at last. 'That was clumsy.'

  'You have no rights.'

  'No,' he said, sounding humble.

  'And if I don't want you to meet them, that's my right.'

  'Yes,' he said.

  She cast him a suspicious look.

  'I mean it,' he emphasised. 'But I would very much like to meet them.'

  'Not tonight.'

  'I'd imagine they'll be asleep. Possibly in the morning?'

  'They'll be at school.'

  'Do you have school on Saturdays here?'

  'Oh.'

  'I just want to meet them, Susan,' he said gently. 'It's not the end of the world.'

  'No,' she whispered. They were pulling into her yard now, beside the big dilapidated house with the verandas all round. There was a single light above the back door but the rest of the house was in darkness. It was a solitary life, he thought. Stuck here...

  'I love it,' she said and he blinked.

  'I didn't mean...'

  'No,' she said. She pulled to a halt and climbed out before him, then stood and watched as he climbed out. The car was between them. She backed. No closer.

  Maybe it was just as well. For she made him feel...

  She made him feel...

  'Thank you for helping tonight,' she said, taking another step back toward the veranda, her body language a clear 'now-go-home' message.

  'I'll see you tomorrow.'

  'If you want,' she said. 'You're welcome at pilates class.'

  'You don't seriously expect me to do pilates.'

  'You don't seriously expect to stay hurting from that stiff neck?'

  'No, but—'

  'There you go, then,' she said, and she walked up the veranda steps and opened the back door. 'Nine tomorrow. Wear something comfortable.'

  'There'll be a local shop that sells gym gear, then?' he asked dryly.

  'Whoops,' she said, and then her face brightened. 'Nick, a fisherman here, plays football. I know his wife. Nick'll lend us some shorts.'

  'Nick's already lent me clothes. And.. .us?'

  'Nick and Donna will lend me the shorts because they're my friends. You can wear them,' she said graciously. 'I expect he lent you the first lot out of charity.'

  'Thanks very much.'

  'Think nothing of it,' she said chirpily. 'Nine o'clock it is.' She t
urned and walked into the house and closed the door behind her.

  Leaving him outside.

  He had Doris's car. It was right beside him. He had the keys.

  He should go.

  Instead, for a moment he just stood there. He saw the lights go on inside. Susie appeared at her bedroom window briefly before her blinds were snapped down.

  If he didn't move soon he'd be arrested for stalking.

  He went. But very slowly. Wary of 'roos. Wary of potholes. Wary of exhaustion taking its toll.

  Or just plain wary. Because what he was feeling was very strange indeed. He was in uncharted territory.

  Susan had been his brother's lover. It should make her out of bounds.

  No. She'd had a brief affair with his brother eight years ago. That should make no difference.

  So what he was feeling was OK?

  He didn't know what he was feeling. That was the whole trouble. It was like he'd looked at her and his world had tilted sideways so he wasn't sure what was up any more.

  It was jet-lag, he told himself. Exhaustion. Shock.

  It was none of those things.

  It was Susan.

  He'd gone.

  That he'd hesitated had made her very nervous indeed. That he hadn't driven straight away; that he'd watched her walk inside; that he'd seen her light flick on...

  It was too personal and she didn't intend getting personal with Sam Renaldo. With any Renaldo for that matter.

  She was comparing him to Grant, she thought bleakly. She shouldn't. Sam was different.

  Which was exactly what she didn't need to think, she told herself, suddenly breathless. She'd been down that track a long time ago and she had no intention of setting her feet in that direction again.

  Sam was in his car now. She listened as he backed out the drive and disappeared across the island. Silence settled over the old house like a thick grey blanket.

  That was another thing she wasn't allowed to think. That this place was too quiet and too tied up with the past and too.. .dull?

  'I've had my excitement,' she told herself, and went into the twins' room, just to check.

  They were, as they always were at this time of night, curled up in sleep, her lovely, freckled, brown-eyed cherubs who'd taken over her life eight years ago and had ruled it ever since.

  'I don't regret a minute,' she whispered, but she knew it wasn't quite true. One short love affair and wham, she'd become a single mother with twins. And somehow, wham, she'd also become sole medic for this island. Eight years ago she'd gone to London to see life. Well, life had kicked her straight back here.

  She was content. She usually was content, she corrected herself. It was just tonight...

  Having Sam sit beside her.. .Having Sam's help with the medicine.. .Having Sam smile...

  It was a different smile from Grant's. Grant had referred to Sam as his older brother and he did seem older.

  Well, that was a no-brainer, she told herself, trying to keep some sense. It'd been eight years.,.

  But it wasn't the years. It was the way he smiled. Grant had been out for whatever life had thrown at him. He was larger than life, a party animal, someone who could pull you in and make you party whether you wanted to or not.

  Sam seemed gentler. Sadder?

  Duh, he'd just lost his twin.

  No. Just different.

  She was getting mawkish. She was smiling to herself in the dark, thinking about Sam's smile—and that he was Grant's twin and had she lost her mind completely? Let's just put the hormones in the cellar and lock the door for the duration, she told herself harshly, and she walked forward and tucked the bedclothes more firmly round her little boys.

  'You're a mother and you're medic to this island,' she said firmly, out loud. 'You have no space for hormones in your life, so get over it.'

  But she stood still. She was no longer gazing at her twins.

  She was seeing Sam's face. Grant's face?

  Who would know? Get over it.

  She was gorgeous. Mind-blowingly, earth-shatteringly gorgeous.

  Sam lay in Doris's little attic room and stared at the ceiling and all he saw was Susan.

  Susan's face surfacing inches from his in the water, her glorious hair splayed around her.

  Susan tonight, kicking at the waves in the shallows, telling her story.

  Susan scolding the men, rolling the oildrums with ferocity and determination, Susan furious yet deeply concerned.

  No wonder Grant had fallen for her.

  Yet...had Grant fallen for her?

  No, for how could he have ever done what he'd done? The thought of his twin's actions made him feel ill. To deliberately risk pregnancy, to prey on a girl alone, and vulnerable, to promise marriage with no intention of ever committing...

  That had been Grant all over. He hadn't deserved to be loved by her. He'd surely never loved anyone.

  As Marilyn had said, it was dumb to feel Grant's death as deeply as he did.

  Yet he and Grant had been twins. They'd been together every moment until they'd been five years old and when they'd been split up, the five-year-old Sam had grieved so much he'd made himself ill.

  Had Grant?

  He didn't think so. Realistically? No, it had all been about Grant.

  He'd hurt Susan so much.

  Well, reparation, at least in part, was possible. Grant's life insurance money was the one asset Grant hadn't been able to touch, and because he hadn't wanted Sam to have it he'd bequeathed it to Susan. It had been the right gesture for the wrong reason. But it would at least atone...

  Nothing would atone for what Grant had done.

  What was it the shrink had said? 'Your mother and Grant hurt your father so much that you've spent your life atoning for them. You need to figure out that your life is yours, Sam. Yours.'

  Yeah, that was deep. It was also true. So he had to move on, head for that holiday he'd planned, traveling round the world until he had his head in order.

  He needed to get to know Susan.

  No, he told himself harshly. Susan was a part of Grant's past and nothing to do with him. He had to give her the cheque and move on.

  But he needed to meet Susan's twins.

  Yeah, he conceded. He did. And then he had to get the hell out of here.

  Right. Tomorrow.

  CHAPTER SIX

  'Get those hips up, Lionel.'

  He wasn't coming. Hooray he wasn't coming.

  'I thought the doc was supposed to be coming this morning.' Ted, the ex-accountant, was looking particularly un-accountant-like. Tight bike shorts, a chest-hugging singlet and a sweatband were designed to make him look manly. He was little, skinny and a lifetime of sitting behind a desk had left him almost without a muscle to call his own. But he was doing his best. He was concentrating really hard on his upright rows, wobbling as the weights of the pulleys proved too much for his aged arms.

  'Well done, Ted, you can go a bit lighter now.' Susan grinned to herself as she took the weights down. From one kilogram to five hundred grams. Any lighter and she'd be pushing the weights herself.

  Ted took another pull. He wobbled dangerously to the side and she righted him.

  'Concentrate,' she growled.

  'We can't concentrate after last night,' Ted complained. 'I'm still feeling shaky.'

  'I should be shaking the lot of you,' Susan said, glowering. 'Were you out of your collective minds?'

  'It's only a small boat,' Lionel said placatingly. 'And you know we have to watch every cent.'

  'Like you're not all rolling in money,' she said. 'You spend your time in here discussing the best way to organise your investments, so don't give me that rubbish. Henry has more money than he knows what to do with—you all do—and you begrudge five bucks. I should get Dr Renaldo to charge Henry specialist rates. Callout rates for a US specialist. I bet that'd be more than five dollars.'

  'You know, it'd be good to have a doctor like him here permanently,' Lionel said sagely, judging, rightly
, that it was safer to move on from last night's fiasco. 'Do you reckon we should ask him to stay?'

  'He's an American. He's here to visit.'

  'He's here to visit you, Susan,' Lionel said thoughtfully, with a sideways wink at Eric.

  'How do you guys get your information?' Susan demanded. 'Right, Lionel, your weights are going up.'

  'It'll be bad for my heart if my weights go up.'

  'Have half a kilo less butter on your toast every week,' she said. 'Don't be a wimp.'

  'You're a hard woman,' Lionel said. 'But I was sure Doris was saying he'd be here today.'

  'When were you talking to Doris?' She shouldn't ask, she thought. It was wrong to encourage island gossip. But...

  'Donna took Nick's footy gear round to Doris,' Lionel said. 'You know Doris is Donna's aunt? And Donna wanted to know w hat was happening. So Doris told her and Bert just happened to be round at Donna's, chopping wood, which he does every morning when Nick's at sea..'

  'All right,' Susan said, seeing their sideways glances at each other and thinking, Uh-oh, she'd opened Pandora's box. 'It doesn't matter.'

  'No, but you're interested,' Ted said. 'She is interested, Lionel. Donna said she'd be interested.'

  'Ted...'

  'It's about time you had an interesting male round here,' Ted said. 'A hot-blooded young woman like you.'

  'I'm not in the least hot-blooded,' she snapped.

  'Aren't you?' a voice asked, and she whirled to the door.

  He was there. Sam.

  He was a different Sam again. A Sam dressed in football shorts and a jersey with the sleeves slashed out. Nick's football gear. Of course. Part of the island network. Susan wouldn't have been surprised if Donna had been right behind Sam, pushing him into the room.

  It was just as well she wasn't. Her friend knew her well, and what she'd make of Susan's mounting colour.. .She could feel her cheeks burning. She put her hands up to hide it, trying desperately to sound—to feel—normal.

  'Do you have to sneak up on me?'

  'I thought I was booked in,' he said, casting her an amused look. 'Nine-thirty?'

  'Nine-fifteen,' she snapped.

  'You ought to sound encouraging,' Ted said sagely from behind his weights. 'Otherwise he'll get the wrong impression.'

  'I'm sure I don't mind what impression Dr Renaldo gets.'