“I’m your Christmas present.”
“Excuse me?” Blake asked his new patient.
“I bet you never had a Christmas present like me before.” The woman smiled.
“You’re pregnant,” he stated.
“Yes, I’m pregnant. Great work for noticing.”
“Have you come to see me about your pregnancy, Miss McKenzie?”
“It’s Dr. McKenzie. And I’m your Christmas present.”
“Just explain,” Blake said.
“Your friends Jonas and Emily have organized it all with the hospital board. They’re giving you a holiday and I’ll take over.”
“It’s a very nice idea,” Blake forced out. “But it’s impossible. You can’t just take over my Christmas. I see fifty patients a day!”
“Fifty? Okay, maybe I can’t. But maybe I can share it.”
“What?”
“Well, maybe we could have a Christmas to remember. Together.”
Dear Reader,
Christmas is my very favorite time of the year. From the first rendition of “Jingle Bells” in my local supermarket—that’s usually about September—I’m tingling with anticipation. My kids’ school runs a Christmas cake drive and I’m a volunteer cook (or maybe that should read volunteered—thanks, kids!), so by October my house is full of the smells of Christmas and I’m aching to put up the tree.
When I was asked to write a Christmas romance I didn’t need any encouragement. I sat down immediately to think up a nice Christmassy plot. What would I like for Christmas? That’s easy. It’s what I always want—a very special Christmas surprise.
So that’s what I’ve given my gorgeous Dr. Blake. A surprise in the form of his very own Christmas angel.
I do hope you enjoy Dr. Blake and his angel. Blessings on you and yours—and have a very happy Christmas.
Marion Lennox
Dr. Blake’s Angel
Marion Lennox
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
BRANDY SAUCE
CHAPTER ONE
‘I’M NOT a patient. I’m your Christmas present.’
Right…
The woman had glossy, copper-red hair. She was wearing purple patchwork overalls, a pink T-shirt and pink flowery sandals. She was also heavily pregnant.
Dr Blake Sutherland still had urgent house calls to do. He’d promised Grace Mayne he’d visit her tonight and the elderly fisherwoman was already waiting. He’d been up since dawn, he was exhausted and now he had a nutcase on his hands.
‘Excuse me?’
‘I bet you’ve never had a Christmas present like me.’ The woman’s bright smile exuded happiness.
Who on earth was she? Blake didn’t have a clue. She’d arrived an hour ago, settled to wait for his last afternoon appointment and had been placidly reading old copies of Rich and Famous until he’d found time to see her.
His Christmas present…
On reflection, he decided to ignore what she’d said and try again. ‘You’re pregnant.’ He sat back and did a slow assessment. She was at least seven months, he guessed, or maybe more. She was glowing with the health most women found in late stages of pregnancy, and she looked…lovely?
Lovely was as good a way as any to describe her, he decided as he took in her startling appearance. Her riot of copper curls was close cropped but not enough to stop the rioting. Her freckled face was enhanced by huge green eyes, and she had the most gorgeous smile…
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Ignore the smile. She also had a problem or she wouldn’t be here.
‘Yes, I’m pregnant. Great work for noticing.’ She chuckled. It was a nice, throaty chuckle that went beautifully with her eyes. ‘Em said you were a brilliant doctor, and you’ve just proved it. Pregnant, hey?’ She patted her tummy. ‘Well, well. Who’d have guessed it?’
He had the grace to smile. ‘I’m sorry, but—’
‘I guess since I’m pregnant you have two gifts for the price of one—but maybe the outer package is the only useful bit. That’s me.’
She was a nutcase! But she was pregnant and she may well have medical needs. He needed to step warily. The worst medical mistakes were made when doctors were tired, and he didn’t intend to toss her out unchecked because she was a bit unbalanced.
‘Have you come to see me about your pregnancy?’ He glanced at her naked ring finger and took a punt. ‘Miss…’ Another glance to the card his receptionist had given him. ‘Miss McKenzie.’
‘It’s Dr McKenzie,’ she told him. ‘Or Nell if you prefer.’ Her smile deepened and she held out her hand in greeting. Dazed, he took it. ‘Nell’s better. Dr McKenzie always makes me feel like someone’s talking to my grandfather.’
Her hand was warm and firm. His hand was shaken and released and that was how he felt. Shaken.
This conversation was way out of line, he decided. He didn’t have a clue what was going on. ‘Miss… Doctor…’
‘Hey, you are exhausted,’ she said, on a note of discovery. ‘Emily and Jonas told me you were. They said you really, really needed me, and after an hour in your waiting room I’m starting to see that they’re right.’
‘Look, Miss—’
‘Doctor,’ she reminded him, and she smiled again. It was some smile. It was a smile that lit parts of the room he hadn’t even known were dark.
He sat back and let his tired eyes assess her. She really was wearing the most amazing outfit. She looked exceedingly cute, he decided. And her red hair gleamed. Actually, all of her gleamed! She sort of beamed all over…
‘Doctor, then.’ He continued his visual assessment but his mind was working overtime.
She was right, he thought. He was exhausted. This town had far too much work for one doctor and the weeks before Christmas had seen things go haywire. It was the start of the silly season, and whatever happened in the town, the consequences usually ended up here. In his surgery.
That included barmy pregnant ladies who said they were doctors…
‘Can I ask—?’
‘I think you should.’ She rested her hands lightly on her very pregnant tummy. ‘Ask away. Or I can explain by myself if you’d rather.’
‘Go ahead,’ he said faintly, and her smile deepened.
‘You promise not to rope me into a strait-jacket?’
‘I promise no such thing.’ Her smile was infectious. Somehow he found the corners of his mouth twitching in response. ‘But I’ll listen.’
That was better! Nell settled further back into her chair and relaxed. He seemed nice, she thought. And he was younger than she’d expected. Jonas and Emily had described him as best they could but it had hardly been a comprehensive description.
‘Blake’s in his mid-thirties,’ Em had told her. ‘He’s got the most gorgeous gold-brown hair and smily brown eyes. Creasy eyes, if you know what I mean. Nice. They’re tired creased as well as laughter creased but I guess you’d expect that after what he’s gone through. And what he’s going through. His life’s all medicine. Work, work and more work. Except his marathon running—though how he finds the time to fit that in is anyone’s guess.’
Emily had sighed as she’d described him. ‘You’ll like him, Nell. You must. Anyone would. It’s a damned shame…’ She’d hauled herself back on track. ‘No matter. But what else? Oh, he’s tall. Over six feet. He’s taller than Jonas.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ Jonas had interrupted then, cutting across his wife with good
humour. ‘Nell wants a medical description—not the sort of description you’d find in the lonely hearts column.’ Jonas had grimaced his disgust, and Nell had grinned.
‘OK, Jonas. What would you tell me about him?’
‘He’s a great guy. He likes beer.’
‘Gee, that’s useful,’ Nell retorted, and both the women had chuckled.
‘Well, he’s a really talented surgeon,’ Jonas told her, in a valiant attempt to fill in the bits his wife had left out. ‘His training is in vascular as well as general surgery, so Sandy Ridge is lucky to have him. He’s one caring doctor, with far more skills than the normal country doctor possesses. But Em’s right. He drives himself into the ground.’
‘Which is where you come in,’ Em had added.
Which was where Nell came in. She’d gone to visit her friends and she’d ended up here.
So now Nell faced Blake Sutherland across the desk and she knew what she had to say. ‘It’s as I told you,’ she said blandly. ‘I’m your Christmas present. Take me or leave me, but I’m here, to use as you will.’
Blake Sutherland was not often flummoxed, but he was flummoxed now. And he was also so tired that he was having trouble understanding what was in front of him.
Sandy Ridge was an isolated medical community. Thirty miles to the north, the marriage of Jonas Lunn and Emily Mainwaring had given Bay Beach good medical cover, and his two friends gave him his only time off, but it wasn’t enough.
That was the way he liked it, he’d told himself over and over through the two years he’d been here. He liked being a country doctor, and he liked being on his own. It was just every so often that he felt snowed under.
Like now. Like when he had the Christmas rush and a crazy pregnant stranger to cope with, and too many house calls after that.
‘You’d better explain a bit more,’ he managed, and Nell’s smile softened into sympathy.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea while I do?’
A cup of tea? She’d booked in as his patient and she was offering him cups of tea?
‘Thank you, but no.’
‘You look like you need it.’
What he needed was to get out of here. He needed to do his house calls, see Grace Mayne and then he needed to sleep—for about a hundred years!
‘Can you just tell me what the problem is, and let me get on with my day?’ he said wearily. ‘Have you filled in a new patient summary?’ He lifted a form and held it up without hope. Marion should have insisted she fill it out. He had no idea why she hadn’t.
‘Fill out a form when I could read ancient copies of Rich and Famous magazine?’ Nell grinned. ‘Why would I do that? I’ve been learning all about Madonna’s love life, and very interesting it is, too. Much more gripping than anything I could write on a stupid form. And I’m not a new patient.’
‘Then would you mind telling me what the heck you are?’
‘I’m trying,’ she complained. ‘But you keep interrupting. I’m your Christmas present.’
‘My Christmas present.’
‘Yes.’
Blake sat back and gazed at this extraordinary purple and pink vision and he had trouble convincing himself he wasn’t hallucinating.
‘You’re not gift-wrapped,’ he said cautiously, and received a grin for his pains.
‘That’s the trouble with being so pregnant. It’s hard to find enough wrapping paper.’ She hesitated. ‘You don’t think we could find a pub where we could talk about this, do you?’
‘Why do we need a pub?’
‘It’s just… Maybe we need a Christmas tree and some mistletoe and a bit more atmosphere.’
‘Just explain.’ It was a growl but he was at the end of his tether.
And she realised it. Nell spread her hands and she smiled across the desk at him—her very nicest smile.
‘It’s simple,’ she told him. ‘Your friends, Jonas and Emily, the doctors at Bay Beach…’
‘I know who Jonas and Emily are.’
‘Then you’ll also know that they’re very grateful to you for giving them time off when they need it. But you won’t reciprocate, and with the sudden popularity of Sandy Ridge as a tourist destination your workload’s become huge. So now…’
‘So now?’
‘They’re repaying the favour. They’re giving you a holiday. Four weeks, to be precise. Jonas was hoping to come himself but, with Robby recovering from his latest skin graft and another baby on the way, they don’t want to leave each other over Christmas. When I said I was coming here…’
‘You were coming here?’ He was clutching at straws.
‘Sandy Ridge is my home,’ she told him. His look of incredulity seemed to annoy her. ‘I might not have lived here for ten years, but I own the house out on the bluff. It’s my home now. Or it will be soon. I intend to do it up and live in it.’
‘But—’
‘Yeah, there’s the but,’ she acknowledged. ‘The place is a mess. I need to put a landmine under it to clear out the junk, and I need a base while I do it. That’s where you come in. I’m only seven months pregnant so I’m good for at least another four weeks’ work. Em said you needed someone now, so she and Jonas organised with your hospital board to pay me locum wages for four weeks. That means you, Dr Sutherland, can take yourself off for a Christmas holiday, and leave me with your responsibilities. All of them.’
To say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. To walk away for four weeks…
No.
‘The thing’s impossible. I don’t know what Jonas and Emily are thinking of.’
‘They’re thinking of you.’
‘I can’t go away.’
‘Why not?’ She smiled at him and her wide eyes were innocent. ‘I’m very well qualified. Ring Sydney Central and they’ll tell you. I worked with Jonas before he was married—that’s how we met.’ She arched her eyebrows, knowing before she said it that her next statement was hardly likely to be believed. ‘In fact, I’m a very responsible doctor. Until last week I was in charge of Sydney Central Emergency.’
This was crazier and crazier. ‘So why aren’t you now?’
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little bit pregnant.’ She was talking to him as if he was stupid, and that was how he felt. ‘I’m moving on. The new registrar can start work now, and Jonas said you needed me.’ She smiled. ‘So I came. If I’d left it much longer I could have dropped my bundle on your doorstep, and I wouldn’t be much use to you with a baby in arms. Or not for a while.’
Blake took a deep breath. ‘So let me get this straight. You’ve quit your job early specifically so you can give me four weeks’ leave?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And you’re just going to walk in here and take over?’
‘That’s the plan.’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I can’t just walk out.’
‘I expect it’ll take a day or two to hand over.’
‘You couldn’t do it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she retorted. ‘If you can cope with the medical needs of the town, I don’t see why I can’t.’
‘Hell!’
‘Why is it hell?’ It was a polite enquiry—nothing more.
‘You don’t know anybody.’
She had an answer to that, too. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I lived here for the first seventeen years of my life so I imagine I know more people in the district than you do.’
He shook his head again, trying to clear the fog of weariness and confusion. ‘Jonas and Em have paid you?’ It came out an incredulous croak and she smiled.
‘And the hospital board. Yes, indeed. An obscene amount.’ She chuckled. ‘No more than I’m worth, of course, but an obscene amount for all that.’ She made her lips prim. ‘I expect you’ll have to write them a very nice thank-you note.’
He stared at her, baffled. ‘You have it all sorted.’
‘Of course.’
‘The fact that you’re pregnant didn’t enter your
calculations as something that needs to be factored in?’
‘I’m a very fit pregnant doctor,’ she told him.
Silence.
‘The idea’s stupid,’ he said at last, and she shook her head.
‘It’s not stupid at all. Your hospital board have approved it. They’re the ones who employ me—not you. I don’t see you have much choice.’
He thought it through. On the surface it seemed fine. Only… ‘Do you have any idea how many patients I see in a day?’
‘I guess…a lot?’
‘I’ve seen fifty today.’
‘Fifty.’ For the first time, her confidence ebbed a little. ‘Fifty!’
‘That’s not including hospital rounds, and not including house calls. It’s peak holiday season and I’m snowed under. I started at six this morning, I don’t expect to be finished before eleven and if I’m unlucky—and I’m nearly always unlucky—there’ll be calls out during the night.’
‘Good grief!’
‘If you took it on—’
‘I must.’ She might be dismayed but she was still game. ‘I made a bargain.’
‘If you took it on you’d drive your blood pressure sky high. You’d give yourself eclampsia and I’d have a dead baby—and maybe even a dead mother on my hands. You think I want that?’
‘Hey, that’s a bit extreme.’
‘Go home, Dr McKenzie,’ Blake said wearily. He raked his hand through his hair. It verged on being too long, Nell thought inconsequentially, but, then, why shouldn’t it be long? He had the loveliest hair. It was sort of sun-bleached brown with streaks of frost, and it was thick and curling. His strongly boned face, his tanned skin and deep brown eyes made him almost stunningly good-looking.
Dr Blake's Angel Page 1
