by Leah Martyn
‘Can I ride her back?’ a now recovered Lauren asked eagerly.
Emma looked doubtful but Jodi said, ‘If you feel up to it, Lauren—of course you can. But I’ll lead her, just to make sure she doesn’t get up to any more tricks.’
The ride ended with no more mishaps. ‘I’ll collect Joel now,’ Emma said. ‘And we’ll get out of your hair.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Jodi dismissed. ‘Mrs McGinty’s invited us up to the house for morning tea. She loves kids—and company.’
‘We can stay, can’t we, Emma?’ Lauren pleaded.
How could she refuse the child? ‘Well, I guess it would be rather rude if we didn’t,’ Emma gave in gracefully.
‘Good.’ Jodi looked well pleased. ‘Let’s round up young Joel.’
Lauren skipped ahead.
‘You will let them come again, won’t you, Emma?’ Jodi asked as the two young women made their way slowly across to the barn. ‘Lauren’s little mishap was just that. I would never have put her on a pony that was unsafe.’
Emma managed a little smile. ‘I’m not sure just how long the children will be staying with me but, while they are, I guess if you can manage the strain then I can too.’
Chapter Nine
EMMA was glad she’d had the distraction of the children’s company throughout the day. But now it was almost nine o’clock and the long night stretched ahead of her.
She felt too restless to watch television, her thoughts too fragmented to read. And sleep was out of the question.
She wandered aimlessly about the kitchen. She could probably do some meal preparation for next week. Perhaps freeze some simple meals for the kids. When the firm rap sounded on her back door, her heart slammed into her ribcage with such force she had to gulp down her next breath.
It had to be Declan. No one else was likely to be banging on her kitchen door at this time of night. Like water draining out of a bath, the tension trickled out of her shoulders and the knots in her stomach began to loosen. Thank heaven he’d come. Now, she could apologise for her crazy reaction last night and they could get back on an even keel again. So simple when you thought about it.
Declan waited for Emma to answer the door. Physically, he was wiped. His eyes felt as if they’d been back-filled with fine sand sprinkled with wood ash and hisguts knitted into a tight uneasy series of knots. He lifted his shoulders in a huge controlling breath. Hell, would she even let him in?
In an agitated gesture, Emma wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans and went to open the door. She raised her gaze, looking out on to the lighted verandah. ‘Declan…’ Her voice shook and suddenly her limbs felt as though they were being held together by string. He looked dark and achingly familiar in his black sweater. His hair was mussed as though his fingers had run through it over and over and light stubble sprinkled his jaw and chin.
‘This couldn’t wait until surgery on Monday,’ he said. ‘May I come in?’
Emma held the door wide open.
Declan walked into the kitchen and then spun to face her. ‘I thought, as you’re temporary guardian of Tracey’s children, you’d need to know how things went today.’
Emma felt the impact of his words right down in her gut. It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear at all. And he was being so formal—as if they were medical partners and nothing more. Was that what he wanted? Had she ruined everything? She said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Have you eaten?’
Declan rubbed his forehead with a long finger. ‘Nev and I stopped for a bite on the way home. A coffee would be good, though–if you wouldn’t mind,’ he added, as if unsure of her response.
‘Of course I don’t mind. Sit down.’
‘Kids in bed?’ Declan dropped on to a chair at the head of the scrubbed pine table.
‘Ages ago.’ With her back towards him, Emma drew in a few calming breaths and set water to boil. She got down mugs and instant coffee and stood them on the bench. ‘We had a very full day,’ she said, shaking the contents of a packet of chocolate biscuits on to a plate.
‘Oh, yes. How did the riding go?’
‘A bit mixed.’ She laughed jaggedly and filled him in. Then the jug boiled and she made the coffee, added milk and took it across to the table.
‘Lauren’s OK, though?’ Declan took up his coffee mug and looked at her over its rim.
‘Took it entirely in her stride. She wants to go back again and Jodi’s happy to give her some riding lessons.’
‘Good.’ Declan drank his coffee slowly, looking into space, almost as if he’d run out of words.
A silence, awkward.
‘How was Tracey, then?’
Declan brought his gaze up sharply. ‘Things are still a bit iffy between her and Carolyn.’
‘Well, they were never going to fall into each other’s arms.’
‘How naïve of me.’ He gave a grunt of mirthless laughter. ‘I was actually hoping they might have. I guess I’ll never understand women.’
Emma recognized his response as a not too subtle dig at her own recent behaviour and swallowed any comeback she might have made. Instead, she’d stay entirely professional. ‘How was Adam when he saw his mum?’
‘A bit quiet. Tracey had some one-to-one time with him later in the day and they seemed much more in tune with each other by the end of it.’
‘He’s been a lost little boy,’ Emma said quietly. ‘So—has the family come up with any plan for the future—or even if there’s to be one?’
‘I’m not about to let Tracey slip through the cracks,’ Declan said emphatically.
‘You can’t be all things to all people,’ Emma reminded him.
After a long, assessing kind of look at her, Declan lifted his mug and drained the last of his coffee. ‘I’ve arranged some joint counselling for the family. And Nev’s come up with a kind of plan. He’s going to try to persuade Carolyn to take a holiday with her sister at the Gold Coast.’
‘So, Tracey could come back home without Carolyn peering over her shoulder?’ Emma caught on quickly.
‘It could work,’ he justified.
‘Small steps, then?’
‘Better than none at all,’ Declan said and got to his feet.
Emma swung upright after him. ‘You’ll keep me in the loop about Lauren and Joel, won’t you?’
Declan scrubbed his hands across his face in a weary gesture. ‘That goes without saying.’ He moved towards the door. ‘I’ll get going, then.’
Emma’s heart beat fast. If she didn’t speak now, she had a terrible feeling the opportunity she sought would be lost for ever. ‘I’m sorry about last night.’
Declan went very still. ‘What part of it are you sorry about, Emma?’
Oh, dear God—what on earth was he thinking—that she regretted making love with him? Goosebumps ran up her backbone. ‘Could we talk—properly?’ Emma didn’t miss his cautious look, nor the way he seemed to gather himself in.
‘I guess an opportunity might present itself next week.’
‘Next week?’ Emma echoed stupidly. Then she thought—perhaps this is his way of breaking things off? Well, this time she intended fighting for what she believed in. And she believed in them. ‘I—thought perhaps tomorrow?’
Declan felt the strength drain out of his legs. He’d been convinced it was never going to work between them. That Emma, for her own reasons, didn’t want it to work. He swallowed deeply. ‘You have the children.’
‘I’ll ask Moira to come over and stay with them. She won’t mind…’
‘OK.’ Declan spread his hands in a shrug. ‘Would you like to meet somewhere or—’
‘No,’ Emma cut in. ‘I’ll come to you. I should make it by afternoon.’
‘Fine.’ he nodded. ‘Just one thing, Emma.’
‘Yes?’
What could have passed for the flicker of a smile crossed his mouth. ‘Don’t bring food.’
Declan couldn’t keep still. When would she get here? She hadn’t specified a time.
He’d been for a run, had a shower and a badly needed shave. ‘For crying out loud, just get here…’ he intoned softly. Already Emma Armitage had stirred such powerful feelings in him; she was so sweet and funny. Sexy. But did she want a future with him? The thought that she might not made nerves tighten low in his belly. He stopped his train of thought.
It would be dusk soon. He slid a look at his watch and took a deep breath. He was on a knife-edge, his emotions seesawing from high to low and back. In the quiet still of late afternoon, he heard her car long before he saw it. His heart gave an extra thud as he hurried outside to wait for her.
Emma had steeled herself for a great deal of awkwardness when she and Declan faced each other. Little speeches, none of them right, ran through her head. And she had to face the fact that he hadn’t seemed in any hurry for this conversation they had to have.
She drove slowly towards the cabin. She was going to her lover—wild for just the sight of him, the touch of him. Oh, Lord—her heart was hammering as she brought the car to a stop. Did he still want her?
Well, she’d never find out by sitting here. Throwing open the door of her car, she swung out.
Declan was standing there. Waiting.
‘Hi,’ she croaked.
‘I thought you’d never get here.’ His gaze snapped over her.
‘Moira got held up.’
‘Not literally?’
‘No.’ A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. ‘Just a domestic drama.’ She wanted to reach up and touch his newly shaven jaw, place her hands on his chest, but felt too held back by the air of tension running between them. She swallowed nervously. ‘Are you OK?’
He gave a tight little smile. ‘Dunno yet.’
‘Oh—’
Declan saw the pitch and roll of emotion in her eyes. The uncertainty. Oh, hell. He didn’t want to put her through the wringer like this. He spoke quietly into the stillness. ‘Would you like a hug in the meantime?’
She nodded. ‘Please…’
He closed the space between them in one swift move and gathered her in.
Emma felt herself melt into his arms, the familiar ache, the quivering in her stomach. She could have happily stayed there for ever.
‘What are we going to do about this, Emma?’ Declan asked, his voice a little rough around the edges. ‘We seem to be going in circles.’
Emma’s heart gave a sickening lurch. She pulled back, her hands creeping up to rest on his shoulders. ‘The whole weekend’s been manic. I’ve been wanting to talk but we haven’t seemed able to connect.’
‘No.’
‘I never meant to hurt you, Declan.’
‘In my heart of hearts, I knew that.’ He lifted a hand, his knuckles brushing softly over her cheek.
‘Thank you.’ His kiss came seconds later, a long exquisite shiver of a kiss that twined through her body languidly like smoke haze. The tenderness and delicacy of the simple union of their lips left her shaky and she nestled into him, holding him closer.
When they finally pulled away, Declan kept his arms loosely around her. She slowly opened her eyes. They gleamed. But they asked him questions as well. ‘Let’s go in,’ he said, his voice rough with emotion. His fingers slid down her arm, dragging through hers, and they made their way inside. ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said. ‘Something to drink?’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’ Emma curled herself into the corner of the soft, cushiony settee.
Declan looked about him and then, because anything else would have seemed ridiculous, he parked beside her, stretching his arms along the back. He looked a question at her as much as to say, Well, let’s hear it.
Very aware of him beside her, Emma bit gently at her bottom lip. He seemed ill at ease, although he was pretending not to. There was definitely an air of vulnerability about him. ‘About what happened at the hospital—’
‘When you all but cut me dead.’
She made a little gesture with her hand. ‘None of this has been easy from the start, Declan. You landed on me out of nowhere. Took me over—’
‘On the contrary. We agreed on a course of action for the practice.’
Her mind a whirlpool of jumbled thoughts and emotions, Emma said starkly, ‘I just wonder if you’ll stay, Declan.’
‘That’s not a decision for now.’ His voice tightened and there was a long pause. ‘You don’t trust me at all, do you, Emma?’
‘It’s the circumstances we’re in I don’t trust. I see how frustrated you get with the shortcomings of working in a rural practice. Friday night with Agnes, for instance.’
‘Guilty as charged.’ His mouth pulled down. ‘But that’s nothing to do with my personal relationship with you.’
Emma’s heart was pounding, uncertainty spreading to every part of her body. ‘It has everything to do with it, Declan.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘If you walk away, then I’ll have left myself open to hurt again.’
‘Aren’t you even willing to try? When we could have something good and true between us?’
She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘I thought I had something good and true with Marcus.’
At his growl of dissent, Emma shook her head. ‘I know it sounds pathetic but everything just imploded when I saw you and Rachel together. I was seeing Marcus and Bree again and I suppose I overreacted.’
‘Just a bit.’ Declan looked at her narrowly. ‘How well do you know Rachel?’
She seemed surprised at the question. ‘Professionally, quite well. Personally, I guess not that well.’
‘So you don’t know she’s facing something of a personal crisis.’
Emma’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘Is she ill?’
‘No. You’re aware some time ago Rachel spent several tours of duty with Médicins Sans Frontières?’
‘Doctors Without Borders—yes I knew that. She was a theatre nurse. Dad always said she was brilliant.’
Declan lifted a shoulder. ‘Apparently, during her time abroad, Rachel had a long-term relationship with one of the surgeons, Ethan O’Rourke. They were planning to marry on their next leave. But it never happened because he was killed in some kind of tribal skirmish. Rachel got out and came home.’
‘That’s so sad.’ Emma’s hand went to her heart.
Declan continued, ‘It was always Ethan’s dream to have a properly equipped OR at the hospital where they worked. Now, it seems, his parents have gathered enough funds and support to make it happen. They want Rachel to go back and oversee its setting-up.’
Several wild thoughts juxtaposed in Emma’s head. Her nerves tightened alarmingly. Had Rachel asked Declan to go with her? With his medical background, it would seem a feasible request. The implication struck her as painfully as fists.
‘You said there was a problem?’
‘Rachel doesn’t want to go.’
‘So, why did she need to speak to you about it?’
‘She wanted an objective opinion.’
‘I see…and what did you tell her?’
‘I told her to follow her instincts.’
Emma nodded and felt relief sweep through her. ‘Rachel’s a strong person. She’ll stand by whatever she decides. It will be the hospital’s loss if she goes, though.’
‘Another problem we don’t need to solve just now.’ Declan gave her a long look. ‘Nothing’s black and white, Emma. We’re all just muddling along. But sometimes you have to take a chance. To trust someone other than yourself.’
‘You’re talking about us, aren’t you?’ She had a lump in her throat. ‘I want to try—’
‘But you’re afraid?’
She nodded bleakly.
Oh, Emma…’ He made a rough sound in his throat and opened his arms wide.
‘Come here…’
On a little broken cry, she scooted up the settee and straight into his arms. They held each other tightly for a very long time, until Declan broke the silence with, ‘Feel better now?’
She gave a shaky smile and touched a finger to the smooth skin at his
throat where his shirt lay unbuttoned. ‘You sound like my doctor.’
‘I am your doctor,’ he answered softly. ‘If you want me to be?’
Her gaze faltered. ‘I hate it when we’re not friends.’
His fingers, blunt and strong, tipped her chin up gently so that she met his gaze. ‘How long can you stay?’
He’d spoken so quietly, his voice so deep it made her shiver. ‘Not as long as I’d like to,’ she murmured, raising her hands, spreading her fingers to bracket his face. ‘We could kiss and make up a bit, though…’
Their mouths sought each other’s, then sipped and nipped and she heard a half growl escape from his throat as their kiss deepened. Was there time for what she really wanted? To make love again with him was what she really wanted. Needed.
Instead, she felt Declan pulling back, his fingers moving to twine in her hair at the back. The gentlest pressure brought her head up. His eyes were disturbingly intent as they looked into her face. ‘Emma…’ His throat worked as he swallowed. ‘I want you. But not like this. Hurried and under pressure because you have to go. When we make love again, I want it to be long and leisurely. Slow. Very slow and with all the time in the world afterwards. You understand, don’t you?’
‘I suppose…’ She felt her head drop a little. ‘There will be a time, won’t there?’
‘I give you my word,’ he said huskily, nudging a strand of her hair sideways, seeking the soft skin at her nape. ‘Even if we have to close the surgery and fly the coop to accomplish it.’
‘I can just see Moira’s face if we did that!’
‘I’m not so sure,’ he countered with a lazy grin. ‘Moira’s a canny soul. I think she’d probably give us her tick of approval and reschedule all our appointments.’
On Monday morning, Declan popped his head into Emma’s consulting room. ‘Good morning.’ His mouth tweaked at the corners. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
‘Good.’ They exchanged a very private smile. ‘Me too. Er…’ He lifted a hand and pressed it to the back of his neck. ‘Quick team meeting before surgery?’
