Resisting Her Rebel Doc

by Joanna Neil

  He pulled in a deep breath and seemed to steel himself. ‘It’s okay. Come on, then. I’ll take you home.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE KNOCK AT the door came as Caitlin was getting on with some chores upstairs before getting ready for work on Monday morning. She wasn’t due to start her shift until later that day so up till now she’d been taking things at a fairly relaxed pace. Now, though, as the knocking came again, she frowned. It couldn’t be Brodie wanting to see her, could it?

  She wasn’t ready to face him yet. She was still in shock from the way things had turned out on Saturday evening at the wedding reception. How could she have let things get out of hand that way? But wasn’t she secretly, deep down, wishing she’d made a different decision? Why couldn’t she have let things take their course, see where they led? The longing haunted her.

  She hurried downstairs to answer the door. She would have to see him and try to work with him once more as if nothing had happened. How was she going to do that?

  It would be so difficult...though how much worse would it have been if she’d given in to her feelings for him? Would she have regretted it the next morning?

  Maybe not. A wave of heat surged through her. The more she thought about it, the more she had to admit that she really had wanted him for himself and not just because Matt had been there to muddle her thinking. Brodie had been wrong when he’d thought that; in truth it was Brodie who had managed to turn her world upside down, not Matt.

  And how could that be? Matt was the one she was supposed to care for. He’d been the love of her life, hadn’t he? Or had he? The truth was beginning to dawn on her and it was much harder to handle than she might have expected.

  Could it be that Matt had been the consolation prize, the runner-up, the one she’d turned to because wanting Brodie all those years ago had been an impossible dream? She groaned softly in frustration. Why did Brodie have to come back into her life and confuse her this way?

  The knocking came again, getting louder, and she called out, ‘Okay, I’m coming.’

  She opened the door, half-expecting to see Brodie standing in the porch, but instead she looked down to see a young girl of around ten years old. She recognised her from the village.

  ‘Hello, Rosie. What can I do for you? Is everything all right?’ Rosie didn’t look all right. She was breathing fast, as though she’d been running, and her expression was anxious.

  ‘Oh!’ Rosie seemed put out. ‘I thought you’d be Mrs Braemar.’ The girl shook her head at her mistake. ‘Hi. It’s just—she always looks after the animals.’ Rosie frowned and tried to gather her thoughts. ‘We found a dog, see, a girl dog—along the lane—my friend and me. She stayed with it, Mandy did. We were playing in the fields, looking for wild flowers on our way to school—there are some summer activities going on there. I think the dog might be hurt.’ She pulled a face. ‘She doesn’t want to move. Will you come and look at her?’

  Caitlin thought quickly. The best place for an injured dog would be at the vet’s surgery but that was way across town and she had to be at work this morning. Even so, if the animal was injured...

  ‘Give me a minute, Rosie. I’d better call on the doctor next door and see if we can borrow his pick-up truck to go and fetch her.’ Old Mr Martin had left the truck behind when he’d sold the house to Brodie and from what she’d heard it was still in working order. Brodie had used it to take unwanted bits and pieces of furniture from the house when he’d moved in.

  ‘Okay.’ Rosie prepared to wait patiently.

  Caitlin rang Brodie’s doorbell, more than a little apprehensive about meeting up with him once more. She’d not seen sight nor heard sound of him since the early hours of Sunday morning when the taxi cab had dropped them both off at home. It had been a moment fraught with tension and Brodie had acknowledged that, reaching for her, wanting to hold her once more. To her everlasting regret, she’d made an excuse and turned from him in a panic.

  Now, though, he wasn’t answering his door, so she pressed the bell again more firmly until eventually she heard him padding down the stairs.

  ‘Hi there.’ Brodie was frowning as he opened the door, concentrating on rubbing at his damp hair with a towel. ‘What’s the problem?’ Caitlin guessed he’d hastily pulled on trousers and a shirt after his shower. His black hair glistened and his skin was faintly damp where his shirt was open at the neck. He looked... He was breathtaking... She swallowed hard.

  ‘Um...I...I wondered if...’

  ‘Oh...hi, Caitlin.’ He blinked, collecting himself, as if seeing her clearly for the first time. He straightened, suddenly alert, heat glimmering in his blue eyes. ‘Come in.’ He stood back to allow her access but frowned when she hesitated. ‘Is something wrong? Is it your mother?’

  ‘No...no, it’s not Mum.’ Though that was a worry in itself. She’d spent some time with her mother at the hospital yesterday and she’d not seemed well at all.

  He looked beyond her, saw Rosie and frowned again. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘Rosie’s found a dog. She thinks it’s hurt; I wondered if I could borrow the pick-up truck to go and get it. I don’t know how badly it’s injured.’

  ‘Sure. Uh—give me a minute and I’ll come with you. You may need a hand to lift it.’ Brodie went along the hallway to dispose of the towel and grab his keys from a hook in the kitchen. Almost as an afterthought, he said, ‘I’ll get a blanket,’ and took the stairs two at a time. A moment later he was back, saying, ‘Okay, let’s go, shall we?’

  He smiled at Rosie and helped her into the cab of the truck, waiting while Caitlin climbed into the cab alongside the girl. ‘Away we go, then. Show us where you found the dog, Rosie.’

  ‘It’s along the lane, near a lay-by,’ Rosie said. ‘We were playing by the stile. I don’t think the dog belongs to anyone in the village—at least, I’ve never seen it before.’

  They drove the short distance to the lay-by then they all piled out of the truck to go and see where the dog lay on its side in a wild-flower meadow by the stile. Rosie’s friend was sitting down beside the animal, a golden-haired terrier, gently stroking its head.

  ‘Hi, Mandy,’ Caitlin said, going to sit beside her on the dew-misted grass. ‘How’s she doing?’

  Mandy shook her head. ‘She hasn’t moved.’

  ‘Poor thing, she looks exhausted.’ Caitlin checked the dog over. ‘Heavens, she’s pregnant. Quite heavily pregnant, I’d say.’

  Brodie knelt down beside them, lightly running his hand along the terrier’s flank. ‘She’s very cold,’ he said. He carefully examined the skin at the back of her neck, adding, ‘And from the way her skin reacts she’s dehydrated as well.’

  Caitlin frowned. ‘There’s no name tag or anything to identify her. I wonder if she was abandoned in the lay-by last night? She must have wandered around for a while before settling down here.’

  ‘More than likely. Of course, she may be microchipped—the vet will be able to tell us that. We’ll get her home and warm her up—see if she’ll take a drink—and then decide what to do from there. I can’t see any injuries anywhere but she’ll need to see the vet as soon as possible.’

  He lifted the dog on to the back of the pick-up truck and Caitlin clambered up beside her, wrapping her in the blanket and doing her best to soothe the panting, distressed dog. ‘Good girl,’ she murmured softly. ‘You’re doing okay. We’ll look after you.’

  Rosie and Mandy were standing by, watching everything and looking worried. ‘Will she be all right?’ Mandy asked.

  ‘I think so,’ Brodie answered. ‘She’s cold and worn out—very stressed, I imagine—but we’ll take good care of her.’

  ‘Thanks for letting us know about her,’ Caitlin said with a smile, preparing to jump down from the back of the truck. Brodie held out a hand to her, helping her to the ground, and for a lightning moment as their bodies meshed a spark of stunning awareness flashed between them. Caitlin caught her breath and tried not to show that she’d been a
ffected by his touch... Not easy, when she was tingling from head to foot. Did Brodie feel the same way? His smoke-blue gaze lingered for an instant longer on the pink flush of her cheeks before he reluctantly let go of her hand and turned back to the girls.

  ‘Perhaps you should get yourselves off to school now,’ he suggested quietly. ‘You did well, both of you.’

  ‘Okay. Can we come and see her later on?’ Rosie’s glance went to the back of the truck.

  ‘Of course. Any time—though she might have to stay at the vet’s surgery for a while.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘You saved her—you’re bound to want to know how she’s doing.’

  The girls went on their way at last, chatting animatedly, and Caitlin climbed into the cab beside Brodie. ‘I ought to stay with her until she shows signs of getting better,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if she could cope with the journey to the vet right now. Will you be able to get someone to cover for me at the hospital if I’m a bit late?’

  ‘Yes, don’t worry about it. We need to be sure she’s all right.’

  ‘I can’t imagine how anyone could abandon a dog like that. It’s bad enough if it’s a strong and healthy animal but a pregnant bitch... It’s unbelievably cruel.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He was silent for a moment or two, deep in thought as he drove back along the lane towards the house. Caitlin noticed he drove slowly, carefully, so as to make a smooth journey for the ailing dog.

  ‘You’ve always loved animals, haven’t you?’ she said now, thinking back to when he was a teenager. ‘I remember once you found a rabbit that had been caught up in a snare and you nursed it back to health. You kept it in an outbuilding, didn’t you, until it was time to set it free?’

  ‘That’s right.’ He gave a wry smile as he pulled the truck into the driveway of his house and cut off the engine. ‘It never did want to leave. I ended up taking it with me to medical school.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re making it up.’

  He gave her an exaggeratedly earnest look. ‘Am not. He listened to so many of my tutorials on the computer he could have taken the exam for me.’

  They both chuckled then she said thoughtfully, ‘There were other animals too: a stray kitten...and you kept pigeons in a shed at one time, didn’t you?’

  He nodded briefly. ‘Until my father made me send them away. It was after my mother died. I don’t think he would have done it before then because she always encouraged me in whatever I wanted to do. He said they were too messy, too noisy and there were too many of them.’ He pulled a face as he sprang down from the cab. ‘I suppose that last was true, in the end. More and more birds wanted to join the flock.’

  ‘You must have found some comfort in looking after animals,’ she said musingly. ‘Perhaps it was because, when everything else was going wrong in your life, you always had them to turn to.’

  He gave her a quick, half-amused look from under his lashes. ‘You noticed that, huh?’

  She nodded, being serious. ‘Well, you used to come to my mother for advice on how to care for them. I could see how different you were around them. You were gentle, relaxed... Not the angry, hot-headed young man that everyone else saw.’

  He smiled. ‘Pets can be very calming. I was thinking of introducing pet therapy on the long-stay children’s ward. It could do wonders for morale—if we bring in the right kind of animal, of course. They would have to be vetted for temperament.’

  ‘Wow!’ She stared at him. ‘You amaze me, sometimes. I’d never have thought of it. But you could be right...’

  He unclamped the back of the pick-up. ‘We’ll have to think of a name for this one. We can’t keep calling her Dog or Girl, can we?’

  She gave it some thought. ‘How about Daisy, since we found her in a field full of them?’

  He moved his head slightly, mulling it over. ‘Okay,’ he said at last then lifted the lethargic dog into his arms. ‘Where shall I put her?’

  ‘There’s a kennel round the back...a proper one, with purpose-made quarters. I’ll show you.’

  She led the way to the kennel and he carefully laid Daisy down in a rigid plastic bed with half the blanket tucked under her for warmth. She didn’t stir, but her brown eyes followed him and then flicked to Caitlin. ‘You’re safe now, Daisy,’ she told her.

  ‘I’ll get another blanket,’ Brodie said. ‘Maybe she’ll take some water.’

  Caitlin stayed with her while he went to get what he needed. ‘You’ll be all right,’ she murmured soothingly, stroking the dog. ‘Good girl. I’m sorry you’re in this state, but you’ll be fine. Good girl.’

  Brodie returned with the second blanket and gently laid it over the dog, tucking it in around her. She wouldn’t take any water from the bowl he brought, and all they could do was stay with her and wait for her to warm up. Eventually, she accepted sips of water from Caitlin’s hand.

  After a while, Brodie glanced at his watch. ‘I have to get to the hospital,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry to leave you, but at least she’s a bit more responsive than she was half an hour ago. She’s starting to look around a bit. Maybe she’ll be strong enough for the journey to the vet now.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll take her. I’ll give the vet a ring and warn him that I’m on my way.’

  Brodie stood up and handed her the keys to the pick-up. ‘She might as well stay in the bed. I’ll carry it out to the truck.’

  He made sure that Daisy was settled in the back of the pick-up once more and then glanced at his watch. ‘I must go. I’ll see you later. Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She drove carefully into town, unused to the truck, and very conscious of the ailing dog in the back. It wasn’t just one dog she had to worry about: the welfare of the unborn puppies was paramount too. Who could tell when Daisy had last eaten, and surely her blood pressure must be way down?

  ‘Ah, we’ll keep her warm and get her on a drip right away to replace the lost fluids and electrolytes,’ the vet said, examining Daisy a short time later and giving Caitlin a friendly smile. ‘She’s young—around a year old, I’d say—so that’s in her favour. There’s no microchip, unfortunately, so we don’t know who she belongs to. Anyway, leave her with us for a few hours and we’ll see if we can get her to eat something. The pups seem to be okay—I can hear their heartbeats. I’d say she has a few days before she’s due to give birth. I’ll give you a call later to let you know how she’s doing.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s such a relief to know that she’s in safe hands.’ Caitlin stroked Daisy once more and said softly, ‘I’ll come back for you later. You’ll be okay, I promise.’

  She went from the vet’s surgery straight to the hospital, keen to get started on her day’s work. Luckily, she wasn’t late, so she wouldn’t feel guilty later at taking a break to go and look in on her mother.

  ‘We’ve admitted an infant, three months old,’ the staff nurse told her when she went over to the desk. ‘He’s feverish, with a swollen jaw and bouts of irritability and crying. I’ve spoken to the mother, and she’s obviously distressed, so I’m going to get her a cuppa, calm her down and talk to her in the privacy of the waiting room.’

  ‘That’s great, thanks, Cathy. I’ll go and take a look at him now.’ It wasn’t surprising that the mother was upset. Babies couldn’t tell you what was wrong with them and it was heart-breaking to see such tiny little things miserable and in pain.

  Caitlin held the baby in her arms and rocked him gently, trying to comfort him, and gradually he seemed to settle. ‘I’ll give him a quick examination—listen to his chest, check his ears and so on,’ she told the nurse who was assisting her. ‘But I’m going to need to do blood tests and get an X-ray to make a proper diagnosis.’

  She worked as quickly and efficiently as she could, holding the child once more when she had finished, soothing him. ‘I’ll send these samples off to the lab,’ she said. ‘We should get the results back fairly soon.’

  After that, she looked in on all her small patients, checking their progress and making sure t
hey were comfortable and cheerful. Youngsters were resilient, she found, and recovery could come about sooner than expected. Four-year-old Jason, suffering from pneumonia, was sitting up in bed watching a DVD. She smiled, pleased he’d found the strength to take an interest.

  ‘You should go and take a break,’ Brodie said, coming over to her at the desk mid-afternoon. ‘You haven’t stopped since you got here.’

  ‘I wanted to make sure I pulled everything in,’ she told him. ‘Working part-time gives me room to manoeuvre, but I worry about fitting it all in. The wards are at full capacity right now. We’re very busy.’

  ‘You’re not on your own here,’ he said. ‘Don’t try so hard. You’re doing great.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  He nodded. ‘Is there any news from the vet?’

  She nodded. ‘He rang to say I can pick Daisy up on my way home. She’s a lot better in herself now—still a bit lethargic, but at least she’s taking a little food and responding to people.’

  He smiled. ‘That’s good. I’ll look in on her later, back home, if that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Of course it is.’ She glanced at him, a little anxious, uncertain how they would go on together. He’d made no mention of what had happened between them at the weekend but that kiss was seared on her memory for ever... The feel of his hands on her body was imprinted on her consciousness for all time.

  He placed a file in a tray on the desk and she looked at those hands—strong, capable, yet at the same time gentle, seeking, magical...

  ‘I...um...I’ll grab a sandwich and go and find out how Mum’s doing,’ she said hurriedly, needing to distract herself. ‘She seemed to have some kind of lung problem coming on this morning, so I’m hoping they’ve managed to sort it out.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ His glance moved over her, slowly, considering, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Had he been able to read her thoughts? Surely not? Her cheeks flushed with heat. She was in enough of a quandary already, with her emotions all over the place.

  Then he said softly, ‘Maybe we’ll find some time to talk things over...sort things out between us...? I care about you, Caity— I always have done—more than I can say.’ He pulled in a sharp breath. ‘Things were super-charged for you on Saturday—I knew that—and I should have taken heed. I shouldn’t have let things get out of hand. It was my fault. But maybe we can move on from there?’