‘Yes.’ Head down, she made a beeline for the trees at the top of the beach. Almost as though she was trying to escape. Had she sensed the desperation with which he’d held himself in check?
He smiled grimly. Surely if she had, she’d be running.
The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. Touching her had created a tension that hadn’t dissipated even though the physical link had broken.
‘So how are you settling in? And Alexis?’ Terri sounded slightly out of breath. Still because of him? Or was it the cracking pace she’d set?
He grasped at her change of subject, relieved one of them was functioning above waist level.
‘Okay.’ He thought of yesterday’s asthma attack and the dramatics which had preceded it. ‘Allie says I’ve blighted her young life by dragging her halfway around the world to the back of beyond. She wanted me to leave her behind with one of her friends.’
‘She must miss them,’ Terri said softly.
‘We’re only here for a year. She’ll make new friends if she gives herself the chance.’ He was dismayed by the defensiveness he could hear in his voice in reaction to Terri’s gentle compassion for his daughter. Frustration mixed with self-disgust. At least talking about this took his mind off the other source of frustration walking up the sandy path ahead of him. Though not entirely. Even in the dim light, he could see Terri’s slender hips swaying in her pale jeans.
‘What are her hobbies?’
‘Hobbies? Oh, hobbies. Yes.’ God, get a grip, man. What were his daughter’s hobbies? ‘Soccer. She plays soccer.’
‘There’s a junior soccer league she can join.’
He reached up to push a low branch out of the way. ‘Actually, that’s a damned good idea. Thanks.’
‘A year’s a long time when you’re her age,’ she said a few steps later.
‘It’ll be a bloody long time when you’re my age if she’s going to sulk for the whole time.’
Terri chuckled.
‘Thanks for the sympathy,’ he muttered, holding back a self-deprecating smile.
‘Sorry. I’m not really laughing at you.’ Kind humour mixed with the understanding in her soft words. ‘It must be difficult for both of you.’
‘Mmm. I’m only being spoken to when she can’t avoid it. The way she’s behaving I’ll need to get her intensive counselling to recover. Maybe I should book some for myself while I’m at it.’ He was making light of the situation but his heart was weighed down by the knowledge of his daughter’s unhappiness. There was no way around it. He was committed to helping his father for this year.
‘I’m sure you’ll work it out.’ Terri stepped onto the veranda of the cottage. ‘Well, this is my stop.’
He should go but her obvious relief made him push his welcome. Just for a few minutes more. A chance to work on his familiarity plan, give it another opportunity to kick in. Besides, he needed the small respite before facing the tension back at the house. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.’
Her pleased look faded. He suppressed a smile and waited.
‘Wouldn’t you?’ She turned her head slightly as though she made a quick inventory of the rooms. It made him wonder what she didn’t want him to see, but all she said was, ‘You’d better come in, then.’
‘Thanks.’
They wiped the sand off their feet at the door.
‘It’ll just be instant,’ she said, glancing at him as he followed her into the compact kitchen.
In the artificial light, he clearly saw the purple-blue smudges forming under both her eyes and a faint bruise on the bridge of her nose.
‘Coffee.’ She froze with the jar clutched to her chest as he stepped closer. ‘What are you doing?’
‘How’s your nose?’ Cupping her face, he tilted it to the light. Her carotid pulse jumped against the edge of his hands. Masculine satisfaction surged through him.
‘Fine.’
‘No sign of any problems after last night?’ Her skin felt soft and smooth beneath his finger tips.
‘No. None.’ She scowled. ‘Have you finished?’
Was he? His gaze dropped to her mouth. If he leaned forward, just a little, he would discover if reality was as delicious as his memories of their kiss. Temptation wrestled with good sense.
Then the opportunity was gone as Terri pulled back out of his light hold.
‘You won’t get your coffee unless you get out of my kitchen,’ she said tartly. ‘Why don’t you sit at the table?’
He stifled a sigh and retreated, slipping onto one of the chairs and allowing himself to follow her with his eyes. Watching her was like indulging in a visual feast. Filling the jug, getting out the mugs, spooning in the coffee. Commonplace, everyday things.
But there was nothing commonplace about his reaction. He shifted on the chair, easing the snugness of his jeans. To take his mind off her, he looked around the room. Ochre walls made the little room cheerful. At the end of the bench a distressed dresser displayed an eclectic collection of china. The cupboards had been stripped back and varnished to show off the warm grain of Baltic pine.
‘You’ve made the place nice. A vast improvement on when I lived here.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled slightly and switched off the jug. ‘I must admit I prefer butterscotch paint to wall-to-wall centrefolds.’
‘God, were they still up?’ An unexpected wave of self-consciousness threatened to heat his face as though he was an awkward adolescent.
‘Every single anatomically enhanced one of them.’ She slid him a cheeky look. ‘If I’d known you were coming back I could have saved them for you.’
He snorted, his momentary embarrassment evaporating. ‘I like my women more natural these days.’ Like you. The unspoken words reverberated in his head.
She smirked at him, obviously comfortable again now that he was at a distance. The devil in him wanted to see that composure shaken again, to know that he wasn’t the only one affected by this inconvenient attraction. ‘There’s another reason why I was so hard on you that night on the beach.’
She eyed him warily. ‘There was?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he drawled. ‘I fancied the pants off you.’
‘No!’ Her mouth opened in a perfect circle of shock. She blinked at him then burst out laughing. Nervous laughter that only lasted for a moment before she stopped and stared at him again.
‘Yes.’ He grinned, enjoying her reaction.
‘Oh, come on.’ Her movements were jerky as she turned back to the bench to pick up a spoon. The staccato clatter of metal on china filled the room. He could imagine her marshalling her defences. After a moment, she said, ‘You barely knew who I was.’
‘Oh, I knew all right,’ he murmured as she turned with the hot drinks in her hand. The only sign remaining of her agitation was the heightened colour in her cheeks. ‘You used to haunt your uncle’s racetrack.’
She handed him a steaming mug.
‘Thanks.’ He considered her over the rim as he took a small sip. ‘Your brother warned me off.’
‘Ryan? Did he?’ She wrinkled her nose in disbelief.
‘Sure. He warned off a few of us. He’d have dismembered me if he’d known some of the things I’d thought about you.’ Things he’d have liked to share with her…would still like to share with her.
‘I never realised. I must make sure I thank him for his interference.’ She shook her head, her lips curved with amusement. ‘And here I thought I was the most unpopular girl in school. All the boys wanted to be my friend but never my boyfriend.’
‘It was self-preservation.’ He grinned, raising the mug to take another mouthful. Flirting with her was fun-regardless of whether it was a good idea. It had been a long time since he’d done something just for the fun of it. ‘I half expected a visit from your brother after I kissed you that night.’
‘You thought I’d run home and tell?’ She gave him an old-fashioned look and signalled for him to follow her along the hall. Over her shoulder, she said, ‘W
hy would I advertise the fact that you’d rejected me?’
‘I wasn’t rejecting you,’ he said as she led the way into the lounge.
‘Oh, yes? I was kissed by the local heart-throb and then told he didn’t want to babysit. That was a rejection in my book.’ She curled into one of the overstuffed chairs and looked at him with a small enigmatic smile on her lips.
‘Local heart-throb?’ His cheeks warmed. This woman could really throw his system for a loop. ‘Give me a break.’
‘Tsk. I’m telling this story, not you.’ She waved an airy hand, dismissing his protest. ‘My poor seventeen-year-old ego was thoroughly battered.’
Luke grinned at her. ‘You seem to have recovered just fine.’
‘Some scars don’t show.’ She arched an expressive brow at him.
He felt his smile slip. God, she was so tempting. The offer to make amends was ready to leap off his tongue. With an effort he stifled the unruly impulse. That was not the sort of familiarity he needed to cultivate with Terri.
Shaking himself mentally, he looked around the room, his eyes settling on a collection of photographs on the mantelpiece. He stood and crossed the room to pick up one of the pictures. An unsmiling man stared out of the frame. Tanned, good-looking. Intense. He glanced at Terri. ‘Is this your husband?’
‘Yes.’ Her fingers curled around her mug and she blew on the liquid as though cooling it was the most important thing in the world.
The easy relaxed atmosphere was gone in an instant and he was sorry to have been the one to destroy it. He hesitated then said, ‘Mum told me he was killed in a landmine explosion.’
‘Yes.’ Her monosyllabic answers discouraged further questions. She was obviously troubled and he wanted to get past the barrier she was putting up.
‘Yesterday…’ He put the picture back and moved to the sofa. ‘You cut me off when I was going to offer my condolences.’
She shrugged. ‘Nothing will undo what’s happened.’
‘You were with him when it happened,’ he said gently as he sat down.
‘Yes.’ Her expression was shuttered.
‘Were you injured?’
‘I walked away.’ She hadn’t really answered the question and he sensed there was much more to the story.
‘It must have been traumatic.’
‘You could say that.’ She hunched over her mug, resolutely keeping her gaze averted.
The healer in him wanted to help, find the key so she would let him in. Anguish radiated from her and he couldn’t let it rest. ‘Any ongoing problems?’
Her head snapped up and she glared at him. ‘Why? Are you worried about working with me?’
Remembering his own grief after Kevin’s death and then with Sue-Ellen, his heart ached for her. ‘Maybe I’m worried about you, Terri.’
‘It’s not necessary and it’s not your place.’ Her lips barely moved as she grated the words out. ‘I’ve done the counselling. Learned to live with it. I don’t like giving people, acquaintances, chapter and verse on my life’s tragedies.’
He ignored the sarcasm, hearing the residue of pain behind it. He knew well the twin burden of grief and guilt. Regrets over Sue-Ellen’s death still tugged on his conscience.
‘What about friends?’ he asked softly. ‘We’re friends, at least, aren’t we?’
She stared at him coolly. A tiny tremble of her chin betrayed her before she set her jaw.
‘Well, if you need to talk…’ He opened his hands, making a small conciliatory gesture.
‘You’ll be the first to know,’ she said flippantly with a toss of her head.
‘I’m sure I won’t, but the offer stands. Any time.’ He smiled gently. He’d failed to reach her. Worse than that, he suspected he’d caused her more suffering with his well-meant probing.
There was a small silence and then she said, ‘Was there a particular reason for your visit tonight, Luke?’
He stifled a sigh. His communication skills with the opposite sex were not good at the moment. He’d alienated Allie and now he was doing the same with a colleague and friend. ‘I wanted to see how you were after last night. Plus, we’re going to be working together and-’
‘So you’ll be making these cosy calls on the other staff members as well, will you?’ She looked at him then, one eyebrow raised, challenging.
‘And I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of Dad with his MI,’ he continued smoothly, ignoring her interruption. ‘You saved his life.’
Her shoulders moved in a tiny shrug. ‘I was just doing my job.’
‘I know, but in this case the job was my father so thank you. He was lucky you were at the barbecue when it happened. Mum told me how stubborn he was about his indigestion.’
‘It’s hard for some people to face physical vulnerability. Especially someone as vital as your dad.’ She studied the liquid in her mug.
Was she speaking from experience? He couldn’t ask, not tonight. He’d already asked too much, definitely worn out his welcome. His heart squeezed and he felt the same frustrating helplessness as when Allie shut him out. The same…but different. This feeling was mixed with a potent attraction. More than anything, he wanted to scoop her into his arms, to comfort and reassure.
Bad idea. They had to work together. For a year. The sexual chemistry between them made it impossible for him to judge where altruism ended and lust began.
He had to keep reminding himself she was a colleague. Keep striving for that day when he’d know her so well this fizz of awareness would be a thing of the past.
The silence was broken by the catarrhal cough of a possum outside.
‘I’d better go. Thanks for the coffee.’ He placed his mug on the low table and waited a beat. ‘I’ll let myself out, shall I?’
At the door, he looked back at her. She hadn’t moved.
‘Goodnight, Terri.’ That air of fragility about her tonight was probably entirely in his over-protective imagination.
‘’Night.’
Terri sat for a long time after Luke left, waiting for her equilibrium to return. Inviting him into this room had been a disaster. Why hadn’t she thought of the photographs, realised he might be curious? But at the time she’d only thought of sitting somewhere other than the tiny kitchen table, where their knees would have touched every time they moved. Her eyes touched on the picture of Peter, her hand automatically sliding to her belly.
Protecting where there was nothing left to protect. Tears stung her eyes, pushing to escape. She thought she’d finished with crying…
She’d been wrong.
CHAPTER FIVE
TERRI stared at the now-silent CB receiver in her hand, noting the tremor in her fingers with an odd detachment. The radio unit clattered slightly as she returned it to the base cradle.
A baby. Eight months. Fever of one hundred and two degrees for several hours. Part of her knew she should have suggested continuing with fluids and waiting another couple of hours before coming in. But the rest of her couldn’t bear to take the risk.
Not today.
Babies were special, the small lives so precious.
Of their own volition, the fingers of one hand splayed across her abdomen. Her own baby would have been eighteen months old if she hadn’t miscarried.
Eyes closed, she bowed her head. Abruptly, her sensory memory delivered a staggering tableau. The pungent stench of cordite clogging her nostrils, Peter’s cries ringing in her ears. The cramping pain in her stomach as she’d crawled to try to help him. So much damage, so much blood. The very air had coated the back of her tongue thickly with the metallic taste.
She could still feel the puff of Peter’s breath on her ear as he struggled to talk, to apologise, to ask her to look after their child. In his final moments, a connection between them, one that had all but vanished after they’d married.
A spasm low in her abdomen reminded her how she’d failed them all: Peter, her baby, herself.
In the aftermath of the trauma, her body had reje
cted its precious cargo.
Today was the second anniversary.
‘Terri?’
‘Luke!’ Her eyes flew open and she spun round to face him. ‘Luke.’
The room seemed to rock for a second and she put a hand on the bench to steady herself.
He stepped forward, his hand wrapping around her arm above the elbow. The warmth of his fingers a tiny comfort against the chill she felt. Concern filled the blue eyes drilling into hers. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she managed, faintly. Even to her own ears she sounded less than convincing. But she was all right…or she would be. He’d just caught her at a vulnerable moment.
‘Come and sit down before…Sit down and tell me what the problem is.’ His compassionate bedside manner flowed over her, making her want to believe he cared.
She swallowed and stood firm. ‘Really, I’m fine.’
In a way, her turmoil was his fault. Talking to him the other night had left her more vulnerable than usual, that was all. His kindness, his offer to help had left her raw. She’d coped so well with the first anniversary. This second one was ambushing her, ruthlessly exposing the cracks in her defences. The skills she had used to keep herself functioning for the past two years felt fragile and unreliable. Twenty-four months. Would any amount of time be long enough to blunt the pain?
Perhaps she’d have taken today in her stride if Luke’s visit hadn’t unlocked her vault of painful memories, pitching her back into the emotional maelstrom of the tragedy.
But she would get past it, she had to.
‘Terri?’
Luke’s voice snapped her back to the present and she barely suppressed a start. If she didn’t pull herself together, he’d be afraid to have her working in the department tonight. And she needed to work-she couldn’t go home and sit alone with her thoughts. She had one constant, her ability to focus on her work. She was good at her job and that wasn’t going to stop now. She couldn’t let it-work was all she had left.
She took a deep steadying breath. With her eyes on the notes she’d made, she concentrated on the details.
City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle Page 21
