A Doctor to Heal Her Heart

by Annie Claydon

  ‘Euan?’

  A familiar voice. Euan struggled to sit up, and Dr Rob Ames’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back down again. Euan was a regular at various A and E departments, and had got to know many of the staff here, but he wasn’t usually the one on the receiving end of their ministrations.

  ‘What’s this?’

  Euan opened his mouth to tell Rob that he just needed a couple of stitches, but he didn’t get a chance. Sam cut in, the story tumbling from her lips.

  She was an A and E doctor’s dream. Clear, concise, sticking to the facts, and while she left nothing out, she didn’t embroider her account with unnecessary details either. Rob was nodding, listening to her carefully.

  ‘Right. Let’s have a look at you.’ Rob helped Euan to roll onto his side, and he saw the sharp stab of pain reflected in Sam’s face.

  ‘Can’t you give him something for the pain?’ She shot an imploring look at Rob.

  ‘It’s okay. Let him take a look... He knows what he’s doing,’ Euan said.

  A short, sharp laugh from Rob. ‘Glad to hear you think so. I’m going to take the dressing off now.’ Rob paid him the professional courtesy of skipping the bit about keeping still and that it might hurt a bit.

  It hurt a lot, but not as much as the tears in her eyes when she saw the wound. Not as much as the helplessness he felt.

  ‘It doesn’t look too deep.’ Rob seemed to be taking his time over probing the gash on his side. ‘Any loss of feeling in your leg?’

  ‘No, my leg’s fine.’ Euan tried to keep impatience from his voice. Everyone seemed to be forgetting that Sam had just been through a traumatic experience too. She’d come face to face with an intruder, had had a knife waved at her. Then she’d had to deal with dressing his wound and bringing him here. He hadn’t expected her to fall to pieces, Sam kept far too tight a grip on her emotions for that, but he almost wished that she would.

  Rob seemed finally to have come to a conclusion. ‘Good. We’ll irrigate the wound first, and if there’s no sign of any other damage, I’ll stitch it.’ He snapped off his surgical gloves, throwing them into the waste bin. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.’

  ‘All part of the service.’ Rob grinned at him and walked out of the cubicle.

  ‘Where’s he going?’ Sam leaned in close, whispering to him.

  ‘He’ll ask a nurse to clean the wound.’ Euan still couldn’t quite get his head around it being his own wound. He felt he should be doing something, not just lying there. ‘They’ll make sure there’s nothing in there, and then stitch it up.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She gave the cubicle an assessing sweep of her gaze. ‘They seem pretty good here.’

  ‘They’re very good.’ Euan frowned.

  ‘What’s the matter? Do you want me to call someone?’

  ‘No, it’s okay.’ Nothing was okay. He’d let Sam down, leaving her alone to face a kid with a knife, and now he couldn’t even comfort her properly. Adrenaline was still flooding his system, urging him to either fight or fly and he was expected to lie still. ‘It’s you I’m worried about.’

  It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to say, but she rolled her eyes. ‘Is it really so hard to let someone take care of you, Euan? You never know, you might be good at it.’

  ‘I might not.’

  ‘There’s always beginner’s luck.’

  She made him laugh, with that dry humour of hers. When he wasn’t laughing, she made him smile, in about a hundred different ways. He took her hand and swore a silent oath that as soon as he got out of here, he’d take much better care of her.

  * * *

  They seemed to have been at the hospital for about a week, but when Euan looked at his watch it had been a little more than a couple of hours. A policeman had turned up to take statements from them both and then Rob had declared him fit to go home, releasing him into Sam’s care. Euan had made no objection, largely because he knew that Rob wouldn’t let him go home alone.

  He needed her help to get out of the car, but he could walk well enough. He’d be okay as long as he didn’t need to break into a sprint.

  ‘I’m going to call David. You should stay with him and Sandra tonight,’ he announced.

  She’d followed him through to the kitchen and now she took the phone out of his hand and put it back into its cradle. ‘You’re supposed to be taking things easy. And the doctor said that you shouldn’t be on your own tonight.’

  ‘Don’t fuss.’ He’d almost snapped at her and regretted it immediately.

  ‘I’m not fussing.’ She flushed red.

  ‘Sam, I really appreciate everything you’ve done...’ Euan was usually too proud to beg, but these were special circumstances. ‘Please, do as I ask. I can manage for myself.’

  ‘No, you can’t manage for yourself. You’ve just been stabbed. So you can drop the macho act, stop being so pig-headed, and bloody well sit down.’

  ‘There’s no need to shout.’

  ‘What the hell do you expect me to do? You’re walking about, you won’t sit and take things easy. Any minute now you could start bleeding, or something could rupture.’ She flailed one hand in the air, to cover a multitude of unknown medical conditions. ‘Don’t you dare make me lose you, because I won’t do it.’ She was shaking now, tears running down her cheeks.

  This wasn’t going the way he’d planned. Euan took a step towards her and she moved to steady him. Suddenly she was in his arms. He held her tight, and it seemed that they supported each other through to the sitting room, where Euan lowered himself onto the sofa. He reached for her and she sat down next to him.

  ‘What’s going on, Euan? Don’t you want me here?’ She was calmer now.

  ‘Of course I do. But you’ve been through enough already. I should never have put you in a position where you had to face someone with a knife.’

  She stared at him in disbelief. ‘It wasn’t your fault. And, anyway, you came back for me.’

  ‘I was too late, Sam.’ He’d been too late to help Marie, and now somehow he’d managed to make the same mistake again. History was starting to repeat itself and he had to stop it right now. ‘You’ll be much better off at David and Sandra’s tonight.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ She took his hand, holding it between hers. ‘I don’t need to be anywhere but here. You came back for me. Do you know how many people have done that? How much it means?’

  He hadn’t thought about it that way. ‘No, I... Sam, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m not asking for your pity.’

  ‘Good. You’re not getting it.’ Pity wasn’t the word that sprang to mind in connection with Sam. Respect, yes.

  She smiled. It was luminous in the gathering darkness of the evening. ‘I won’t pretend that I didn’t get a scare when I saw the blood.’

  ‘Yeah. Me too.’

  ‘So it was just bravado. All of the it’s-just-a-scratch stuff.’

  ‘I don’t think I actually said that, did I?’

  She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘No. That would have been a stupid thing to say.’

  He chuckled. ‘Okay. You want to give me a break?’

  ‘I’ll think about it. If you behave.’ She pulled away from him, levering herself to her feet. ‘I’ll call David, let him know that you’ve been discharged, and that I’m staying here tonight.’

  ‘Thanks, Sam.’ With a sigh he leaned back on the cushions she’d arranged for him and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  He’d asked for water and had drunk two glassfuls, obviously thirsty, either from the heat of the hospital or the painkillers that Rob had given him. Or maybe from the loss of blood, but Sam didn’t like to think about that.

  Blood and grime still streaked his forearms,
and he was awkwardly trying to keep his injured side away from the sofa cushions. He needed to wash, get comfortable and get some food inside him. She could send him upstairs to the bathroom while she prepared something to eat, but suppose he became dizzy and fell? Surely, in the circumstances, it would be all right to go with him?

  If [a condition holds true] Then [take one course of action] Else [don’t even go there]

  If...Then...Else. It was a simple, logical sequence, part of the programming language that Sam used every day, and it had become second nature to approach almost any decision on those terms. But logic didn’t help much when it came to dealing with Euan. She was going to have to take a leaf from his book and just go with the flow.

  ‘Come upstairs.’

  He raised one eyebrow and she ignored him. ‘You need to wash and I’m not having you fall and crack your head open in the bathroom. I’ve had enough of hospitals for tonight.’

  ‘I can manage.’

  ‘I dare say you can. I’ll just make sure that you live up to that promise.’

  He hesitated then got painfully to his feet and made for the stairs. Maybe now he was willing to admit that even though he could do it alone, it was better with someone there. Or maybe he was just humouring her.

  By the time he’d climbed the stairs, exhaustion was showing on his face. He allowed her to take his arm and support him into the bathroom then fetch a stool so that he could sit down by the basin.

  He said nothing when she carefully stripped his shirt off, taping some plastic film from the kitchen over the dressing on his side. Watched as she filled the basin with warm water.

  ‘Give me your hand.’ She’d soaped hers, and she took his hand, massaging it gently. His palm, in between each finger. Then the other, slowly and carefully. It seemed as if he’d needed care for a very long time.

  Then his arms. Sam was doing a reasonable job of not thinking too hard about his skin, golden from the sun and slightly cool to the touch, but she couldn’t help noticing. Feeling the way that the tight muscles across his shoulders relaxed under her fingers. She worked calmly and methodically, across his back and chest with a flannel, the warm silence curling around them both protective and healing.

  ‘How’s that?’ She handed him the towel and he dried his face.

  ‘Better.’ He reached for her, pulling her between his outstretched legs, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she cradled his head against her chest. Just for comfort. If she kept telling herself that, she might begin to believe it.

  ‘All done.’ She gently disentangled herself from him and led him through to the bedroom.

  ‘You should go and take a shower.’ He sat on the bed, watching her, as she pulled the curtains and searched in the dresser for some clean clothes, his gaze edged with hunger. This was an undisguised invitation to go before things got out of hand.

  ‘Yes, I could do with one. You’ll be all right for a few minutes?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ His eyes were telling her to stay, but he waved her away. ‘Go and get cleaned up. I can manage to dress on my own.’

  * * *

  She was a long time in the bathroom, and Euan began to wonder vaguely if Sam had fallen asleep in there. He’d stretched as far as he dared, testing his body’s remaining strength and flexibility, and then changed into the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d left for him, before lying down against the pillows that she’d piled up at the head of the bed.

  He could still feel her fingers on his skin. The brush of her hair as she’d leaned over to towel his back dry. It had been a sensation that he hadn’t been able to define. It had warmed him after the chill of cold steel against his ribs. Steadied him against the sudden realisation that he wasn’t invulnerable.

  Who was he trying to kid? It had been like sex. The kind of sex where you gave up something of yourself and received more than you’d ever bargained for in return. The kind that he’d managed to avoid since Marie had left.

  Hold it! Right there. Sam wasn’t like the women who had drifted in and out of his life over the years, leaving nothing behind other than the vague feeling that something inside him was irretrievably broken. She was vulnerable, scarred and yet strong in ways that took Euan’s breath away. He’d made his decision, and he needed to stick to it. It was friendship or nothing.

  A movement, right on the periphery of his vision, caught his attention. She was standing...no, hovering...in the doorway, the borrowed sweatshirt and pants rolled up at the ankles and wrists but still swamping her frame. Her cheeks were pink from the shower and somehow she managed to look like a barefoot angel.

  ‘I’m going to get a warm drink. What would you like?’

  A rather awkward, undeniably gorgeous, barefoot angel. The least he could do was make her feel at ease, without crossing the firm lines he’d just drawn regarding his own behaviour. ‘Tea would be nice.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, you should have something more substantial. I was thinking soup or hot milk. Do you have any hot chocolate?’

  Euan grinned at her. An assertive barefoot angel, then. ‘I think so. Anything you want.’

  ‘Right.’ She gave him a nod and disappeared.

  * * *

  Sam did her best to breeze back into the room as if it was a matter of no importance that this was his bedroom, and they were alone. She put the two mugs of hot chocolate on the nightstand, and he pulled himself upright on the pillows.

  ‘Are you going to sit down?’

  There was no chair, so Sam sat on the edge of the bed, one foot firmly planted on the floor.

  ‘I like what you’ve done in here.’

  Stupid. She sounded like someone who’d dropped in for a spot of afternoon tea. The room was nice, though. A warm oak floor, pale walls and crisp, cream-coloured sheets. A bright throw folded at the end of the bed and striped in many shades of blue gave a dash of the seaside, along with an old ship’s timepiece on the wall.

  ‘Thanks.’ He was looking at her as if she posed an unanswerable problem. ‘Are we being filmed?’

  ‘What?’ Sam glanced over instinctively towards the window, looking for a chink in the curtains, and then realised he was joking. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, this is what they used to do in all the old films, isn’t it? When the censors allowed two people in a bedroom, as long as one had a foot on the floor at all times. Any time you want to get a bit more comfortable, I can always take over for a while.’

  The ice cracked and then shattered in the face of his humour. ‘I think it’s probably all right. We could pretend that I’m a doctor.’

  ‘I am a doctor. Doesn’t that work for you?’

  ‘No, not really. One of us has to be the doctor, and the other one the patient. And I think we’ve already established who’s the patient around here.’

  Euan laughed. ‘Good point. Well, in that case, I think there are a couple of pillows in the blanket box.’

  * * *

  The jolt of adrenaline in his system had taken a while to wear off, but he was asleep now. They’d squabbled over ownership of the TV remote, and he’d finally handed it over to her. They’d watched a programme about an archaeological dig that had taken place in the area, and had decided they both wanted to visit the site. Talked. And talked some more. They’d both lost track of the old film that Sam had tuned into, and now exhaustion had overtaken him and he lay on the bed, eyes closed, one hand lying protectively over his side.

  Sam flipped the TV off and arranged the throw from the end of the bed across him. She’d stay here for a few minutes, just to make sure he was sleeping soundly, before she went next door to the spare room. She lay down next to him, listening to the sound of his breathing.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘BREAKFAST?’

  Sam’s eyes snapped open. Had she...? Had they...?r />
  Of course not. Euan had been in no state last night for anything other than sleep. Unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Sam concentrated on the rich aroma that had accompanied him into the room.

  ‘Coffee? You made coffee?’

  ‘I did.’ He was smiling and dressed, as if last night had never happened, but he winced when he bent to put the coffee down beside the bed.

  ‘Mmm. Wonderful.’ Even though she was still wearing the sweatshirt and pants he’d lent her, she took the sheet with her when she sat up, wrapping it across her chest. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You slept well.’

  It wasn’t a question but an observation. He already knew, of course, he’d been lying right next to her. ‘Yeah, I...’ She hadn’t woken once in the night. And try as she might, Sam couldn’t remember any of her dreams. ‘I didn’t...um...disturb you, did I?’

  ‘Nope. You slept like a baby.’

  How did he know that? Perhaps he’d been watching her. ‘And you were awake?’

  He grinned cheerfully. ‘I woke up a couple of times.’ His hand floated to his side, hovering over the wound. ‘Went back to sleep again. You were curled up and dead to the world.’

  Right. No thrashing about, punching the pillows, and no waking up, crying. No bad dreams. She hadn’t had a night like that since Sally had died. Sam said a private thank-you to the unknown source of that particular miracle, and decided to enquire no further into exactly how long Euan had been awake while she had slept.

  ‘So, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Fine. A bit stiff, but the dressing’s still clean.’

  ‘Which is good I assume.’ She reached for her coffee and took a sip.

  He laughed. ‘Yeah. Means the wound hasn’t been bleeding during the night.’

  ‘I suppose I didn’t need to stay after all.’

  ‘I was glad you were there.’ For a moment his gaze caught hers, and he seemed about to say more. Then the moment passed.

  ‘I hope you’re not going to use this as an excuse to go to work today...’

  The look on his face confirmed her suspicions. ‘I thought—’