City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

by Marion Lennox

  He walked out slowly to find Mick.

  The next day, Luke spotted Terri at the bench in the emergency department kitchenette. He ran his eyes hungrily down then back up the green scrubs that draped her slender body. He smiled wryly. She had no business looking so damned desirable in the baggy work gear. Her hair was caught in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and he itched to tug out the tortoiseshell comb holding it in place, sink his fingers through the long silky strands.

  He took a deep breath and dredged up some self-control. He was here to apologise, smooth over any awkwardness. Not create new problems. He needed to talk to her, pave the way for them to discuss what had happened at the racetrack.

  Arranging his face in what he hoped was an affable, non-threatening expression, he went into the room. Her head was bent, the nape of her neck looked so vulnerable he wanted to reach out, to comfort. She seemed to be staring into the drink she was preparing. She held an empty teaspoon over the rim of her mug as though she was trying to decide what to do with it.

  ‘Terri?’

  She started violently, jerking the handle of the mug in her hand. Dark liquid slopped over the bench. She muttered something under her breath, put the teaspoon down and reached for the dishcloth.

  ‘Luke.’ A quick flush of red ran under her pale skin.

  He stopped beside her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  ‘Did you want something?’ Her voice was even as she mopped up the spill. The pattern on the bench would be scoured off if she was any more thorough.

  He stifled a sigh. ‘I wanted to see you-’

  ‘Well, here I am.’ She still hadn’t looked at him.

  ‘I wanted to see how you were.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Terri…’ Voices in the doorway made him glance round. At least one of the people obviously intended to come into the room and Luke didn’t want to be interrupted or risk the discussion being overheard. ‘We need to talk. Somewhere private.’

  ‘Talk? As hospital director to doctor on duty or something else?’ She rinsed the cloth under the tap and hung it over the tap.

  Refusal was plain in her stiff spine and he was tempted to lie. ‘Something else. Personal.’

  ‘In that case no, I can’t spare you any time just now.’ She topped up her mug from the urn, then flicked him a brief glance. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’

  He held his hand out in a motion of appeal and she froze. Then took a small step back and looked at him fully. Her eyes were puffy and tired and all the colour had drained out of her cheeks. She looked fragile, as though she hadn’t slept well.

  He nearly groaned with the need to put his arms around her. ‘Terri-’

  ‘I need to go. Please.’ The words were calm. Yet he had the distinct impression she was holding herself together by willpower alone. Guilt stabbed at him.

  ‘Of course.’ He curled his fingers into his palm and dropped his hand. She waited until he stepped aside before she moved past him.

  His gaze followed the graceful sway of her hips until she turned into one of the offices. She must intend to catch up with some paperwork.

  He ran a hand through his hair and smiled philosophically.

  Terri wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  Sue-Ellen would have. His wife had smoothed his life for him wherever she could. He’d appreciated it. Their love had been a quiet, comfortable emotion. Not a grand passion.

  Nothing like the volatile mixture of emotions he was starting to feel for Terri.

  He sighed. She was complex. Combustion to Sue-Ellen’s serenity.

  Terri tested the limits of his self-control-which, to his chagrin, were diminishing with each passing day.

  What the hell was he going to do about her?

  He had to think of something or they were both going to be wrecks by the end of their time together. Though he realised he didn’t like thinking of that in terms of a finite period.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TERRI sifted cool sand through her toes beneath a shallow wave. Her walk along the beach had restored a degree of calmness.

  Seeing Luke today, being near him after the explosive embrace yesterday, had been impossible. She’d reacted like the gauchest schoolgirl. Embarrassing, but she’d been unable to help it. He’d seen, of course. The pity in his eyes had been hard to take. What did he think of her now? She’d wager that the glowing opinion he’d expressed the other day had been amended.

  She turned and walked up to the path through the trees. A small part of her wanted to know what he’d been going to say in the kitchenette. Most of her was just plain afraid. She wasn’t sure what scared her the most-that the kiss meant something to him or that it didn’t. How contrary.

  As she approached the cottage, a figure rose from one of her verandah chairs. She stopped.

  Luke.

  Her heart stuttered then raced into an erratic uncomfortable riff. Damn, damn, damn. She longed to turn and run, but that was ridiculous…especially as he’d seen her.

  Forcing her feet to move, she squared her shoulders and climbed the steps.

  ‘I guess you get to see me after all.’ She was proud of the drawl she managed. Her internal tremble was scarcely noticeable. A miracle, considering the way her traitorous heart was still pounding at her larynx.

  ‘I won’t stay long,’ he said softly, his expression sombre. ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were upset today.’

  She shrugged, hoping for nonchalance. ‘You caught me by surprise after…’

  ‘After yesterday,’ he finished for her. ‘I owe you an apology for the way I treated you at the track.’

  An unexpected dart of pain lanced through her chest. That was one question answered. Her first kiss since her husband’s death and the man who’d given it to her was falling over himself to apologise. While he wished it hadn’t happened, she’d been shattered by the terrifying beauty and power of it. She couldn’t let him see how much.

  ‘Oh, that,’ she managed, praying she didn’t sound as brittle as she felt. ‘Let’s consider it forgotten, shall we?’

  ‘I’m not apologising for the kiss, Terri.’

  She stared at him, trying to make sense of his words.

  ‘You scared the daylights out of me with the way you were riding that motorbike.’ He held up his hand when she would have spoken. ‘I know. You’re a good rider. Better than good-you’re outstanding.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said faintly. ‘I guess.’

  ‘Don’t thank me. I wasn’t watching you and admiring your technically brilliant performance.’ He smiled thinly. ‘The way you threw that bike into the corners made me angry.’

  ‘Angry?’

  ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  She swallowed, looking away uncomfortably.

  ‘We don’t want to lose you. Allie and me. We’ve lost too much already. You’re her new best friend and confidante. She needs you, I need…I don’t want to see her hurt.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ Her heart melted. He was such a good father. ‘Neither do I.’

  ‘I know.’ There was a small silence then he smiled at her. A slow delicious smile that curled her toes. Her heart skipped a beat and then tripped over itself trying to catch up. She should excuse herself, send him home now he’d said his piece.

  ‘Do…do you want to come in for a drink?’ She heard the words leaving her mouth with a sense of astonishment. ‘Er, don’t feel you have to…I just…I’ll understand if you’re busy.’

  ‘Nothing pressing,’ he said firmly. ‘Thanks, I would like a drink.’

  ‘Right.’ She stood indecisively for a moment then turned away to open the door. ‘Coffee? Or a cool drink? Maybe a beer.’

  ‘A beer would be great.’ He followed her inside. Even with her back to him, she felt as though she was aware of every sound and movement he made as he followed her through to the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve only got light beer.’ She opened the
fridge. ‘Stubbie? Or would you prefer it in a glass?’

  ‘Stubbie will be fine. Thanks.’

  She handed him the bottle. His fingers brushed hers and a ripple of sensation ran up her arm. ‘It’s, um, a nice evening, let’s sit on the chairs out the back.’

  ‘Sure.’ He held the door open and ushered her out.

  As she settled into the wicker chair, she suddenly realised how romantic the setting was with the rapidly dimming pink wash of sunset. The golden glow from the kitchen light behind them did nothing to dispel the illusion of cosy intimacy. The glare of a harsh fluorescent tube would have helped-but to get that, she’d have to get up and walk past the source of her angst to the switch.

  Luke twisted the top off his bottle as he subsided into the chair beside her.

  ‘Cheers.’ He leaned forward. There was a small musical clink as he lightly tapped his bottle to hers.

  ‘Yes, cheers.’ She watched as he lifted the bottle to his mouth, his lips settling on the rim. Looking away hastily, she took a swig from her own bottle. The liquid fizzed in her throat as she searched for something to talk about.

  Something other than the thing that suddenly filled her mind.

  His mouth, his lips.

  His kiss.

  Seconds crawled by as she sat in tongue-tied discomfort, her mind utterly stuck on the interlude in the garage. She glanced sideways at him, only to find him watching her intently, his face thoughtful.

  She could almost see him gathering words for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Not the kiss. She really didn’t want to discuss that.

  ‘Terri-’

  She had to forestall him. ‘Do you think you’ll ever get back on a motorbike?’

  As soon as the words left her lips, she felt ill.

  He grimaced. ‘I’m not quite ready for that yet.’

  ‘Oh, God. Luke.’ Her voice shook with her distress. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘The thought did cross my mind at the track. That was before I saw you, of course. Then all I could think of was talking some sense into you.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘And look what a good job I did of that.’

  She wet her lips. Oh, dear. He was back to the kiss, she knew it. Talking about it meant acknowledging it out loud, holding it up to the light for examination, making it even more compelling. She wanted it to fade away. As it would surely do given enough time and no discussion with the man who’d made her feel so raw and conflicted.

  When she didn’t say anything, he said, ‘Refusing to discuss it isn’t going to make it go away, Terri.’

  She raised her eyebrow and sent him a sidelong look. ‘How can you be sure?’

  He laughed softly. ‘I know some of how you’re feeling. It’s a shock, isn’t it?’

  ‘A shock. Yes, that’s one way of putting it,’ she said with a sigh of resignation.

  ‘It’s two and a half years since I lost Sue-Ellen. I loved my wife. You’re the first woman I’ve kissed since my wife died, and you knocked me sideways. I never expected to feel this way again. Ever.’

  Terri contemplated the bottle she held loosely in her hand. Luke and Sue-Ellen had obviously had a very happy, loving relationship. Terri was surprised by the shaft of grief she felt. By the time the landmine explosion had killed Peter, she and her husband had had no marriage left to betray. Her stomach cramped at the memory. She was a fraud, letting Luke assume she was in the same predicament as he was.

  He was right about one thing, though. Her equilibrium hadn’t been this upset by a kiss since she’d been…

  Eighteen, and it had been his kiss then, too. Heat swept through her.

  ‘What I really want to do is kiss you again,’ he said. ‘Soon. I would do it right now, in a heartbeat, if I thought you would let me. But I’m guessing that’s not going to happen…is it?’

  ‘No. Oh.’ Her pulse bumped hard. He wanted to kiss her again. ‘You shouldn’t. We mustn’t.’

  But it was what she wanted too-regardless of all her good sense telling her otherwise.

  ‘I figure I’ll give you a bit of time to get used to the idea.’

  Her breath caught. ‘G-get used to the idea?’ she managed.

  ‘Before I do it again.’ His eyes tracked down to her mouth and lingered there for a moment.

  ‘I’m only human, Terri, and I’m attracted as hell to you. I’ve tried to ignore it but that isn’t working for me.’ He tilted his head, giving her a self-deprecating smile when she remained silent. ‘Am I mistaken in thinking you feel the same way?’

  ‘We can’t do anything about it. We mustn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ He paused. ‘Do you feel like you’d be betraying Peter?’

  Coldness gripped her at the sound of Luke speaking her late husband’s name.

  ‘That’s…’ Her throat closed and she had to force the words out. ‘It’s…not the same.’ She stood and held out her hand. ‘It’s getting late. Have you finished your drink?’

  He frowned, staring up at her for a long moment before slowly handing over his empty bottle.

  She knew she was handling it clumsily but for the life of her couldn’t think of a smoother way to signal that the evening was over. She walked past him, into the house. Hopefully, he would go now.

  Bottles in hand, she walked to the sink and stopped.

  ‘Not the same…how?’ Luke’s voice was soft, persuasive.

  She turned slowly to see him standing across the room, just inside the door. His expression was tender with sympathy she didn’t deserve.

  How? Such a simple little question. But the answer had the power to rip her apart. Could she bear to see disgust in his eyes once he knew?

  She was a foolish woman who’d stayed too long in a danger zone.

  A sad, tragic creature who’d been too slow to accept her husband didn’t want her or the baby she carried.

  Her folly had cost her everything. Her marriage, her husband.

  And the biggest price of all, her baby.

  Perhaps Luke had been right that evening in her lounge. Perhaps he did need to know the worst about her. As a colleague, as her boss, as a friend. Maybe most of all as the doctor to whom he’d entrusted his daughter’s well-being.

  ‘My marriage wasn’t like yours, Luke. We had…problems.’ How laughably feeble and mild that sounded.

  Solemn blue eyes examined her face calmly. ‘Tell me. Whatever it is. I won’t think less of you.’

  Her throat closed on the urge to be sick. She knew better. Her hands tightened on hard smoothness and she looked down, surprised to see she still held the bottles.

  ‘Peter was taking me to the airport when the explosion happened.’ Her larynx felt raw and tender. ‘I wanted to come home. He d-died because I wanted to come home.’

  ‘Oh, Terri.’

  In two strides, he was there in front of her. She watched numbly as he removed the bottle from one hand then the other. With her hands empty, he gathered her into his arms. His body heat was startling.

  ‘You can’t think that way,’ he said. ‘You’ll destroy yourself.’

  She wound her hands around his waist. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear the steady beat of his heart. After a long silence, she said, ‘We were arguing when the car hit a l-landmine.’

  ‘Poor sweetheart,’ he murmured. ‘And you feel bad because of that.’

  She didn’t deserve his understanding. She had to make him see, push out the ugly facts until he turned from her as he should. ‘If he’d been p-paying more attention, he might have seen something to warn him, a flaw in the road surface. Or something.’

  ‘Hush.’ Luke hugged her tighter. ‘You know it’s pointless to think like that. He probably wouldn’t have seen anything. That’s why mines are such bloody awful weapons. You know that.’

  His body curved over hers, holding her as though she was precious, reminding her of the way he’d been so protective with Allie. With hi
s strong nurturing instinct, he was so unlike Peter.

  Peter had loved mankind. He hadn’t had time to cater to the needs of a wife. His need to serve had been noble and laudable but so very hard to live with. She’d felt petty and selfish asking for more for herself. For needing more.

  Being enveloped in Luke’s caring was glorious.

  And it was torture.

  She wasn’t entitled to his good opinion. He still didn’t know everything.

  She swallowed and gathered the courage to let go the next piece of poison. ‘I was leaving him, Luke. My marriage was over. I c-couldn’t be the person he needed me to be. I failed him. I f-failed…I failed.’ The words to make him understand the rest choked in her throat.

  ‘No, you didn’t. Marriages don’t always work, sweetheart. It’s sad but it’s life.’

  He thought she’d finished but she hadn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the worst. She’d failed again. She was a coward.

  His warm hand cupped her neck, the fingers stroking her sensitive skin gently. She stood passively in his arms, her attention on each delicate movement, storing the sensory memories for the future.

  ‘What’s so bloody unfair for you is the way you lost Peter and the timing. But it’s not your fault, Terri.’

  ‘Don’t.’ She squeezed her eyes shut as a hot lump in her throat threatened.

  ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘Just don’t.’ She turned her head, pressed her hot face into the cool skin of his neck, feeling the steady bump of his carotid pulse against her forehead.

  He shifted and her awareness of the hard body clasping hers changed abruptly. Her pulse sped up.

  She should pull back…started to move. His head bent slightly and his breath whispered across her cheek. If she tipped her head a little and reached up, she’d be able to press her mouth to his.

  It wouldn’t be right to take more than the comfort he’d given so generously, especially when she had so little to offer in return.

  But suddenly she didn’t care. She wanted something for herself. A kiss, his kiss. Whatever he was prepared to give her in this moment. She wanted to feel desirable again, to remind herself how that felt.