The Bachelor Doctor

by Judy Campbell

  ‘You have a nerve,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t know what gives you the right to imply that I’ve been in any way remiss.’

  His grip tightened on her arm, pulling her closer to him. He spoke slowly with deliberation, his blue eyes grim.

  ‘I have a right, Cara, because I admire your father so much. I’ve worked closely with him for five years now and I know what a wonderful man he is—someone who lives for his patients and treats everyone equally. I only wish I had a father like him. He even put off his bypass operation because he thought he should be here for the practice over the New Year. The best tonic for him would have been to see you.’

  Cara’s voice was tight. ‘I…I regret very much that I’ve been away so long, but I don’t really think it’s any of your affair.’

  He dropped her arm and said curtly, ‘You may be right. Your relationship with your father isn’t my business, but his health is. And I think part of the cure is a large dose of t.l.c. from someone I know he loves very much—and that’s you.’

  Cara was silent. She didn’t want to come to blows with her father’s partner, and he seemed to have the best interests of her father at heart—she should be grateful for that.

  His eyes swept over her troubled face, the slightly parted lips, the wide grey eyes and tumbled auburn hair, and his expression softened.

  ‘Am I forgiven?’ he said suddenly.

  She stared up at Jake, his strong face bent so near to hers, so close she could see the fringe of dark lashes round those amazing eyes, and the ridiculous thought came to her that the feel of those firm lips on hers would be wonderful, the touch of his cheek against hers sublime. She shook her head angrily. What the hell was she thinking about? Tiredness must have affected her more than she’d thought. She wanted to maintain a good relationship with him for her father’s sake, but Jake Donahue was a curmudgeonly man and even thinking about him was absurd.

  ‘I’ll…I’ll just go and talk to my father for a while,’ she said brusquely. ‘We’ve got a lot to catch up on.’

  Jake watched Cara’s tall slim figure stride across the floor towards her father and cursed softly. Him and his big mouth—no wonder she was upset. How often had he wished he’d bitten back the hasty things he was inclined to say? After all, he had no wish to antagonise the daughter of the man he so admired, but he found it heart-breaking to see a fine man look so broken and sad. He frowned. There was a mystery there. Gordon Mackenzie had never mentioned his daughter in the five years he’d known him, except when asked a direct question. He certainly hadn’t mentioned her coming to Ballranoch for hogmanay. Jake smiled slightly. He couldn’t help thinking it would be fun to have Cara around for a while—she had a sparky manner that hadn’t been cowed by his pointed remarks. He was beginning to realise she could speak her mind as easily as he could!

  Cara waved and smiled at old acquaintances as she walked towards her father. It was lovely to be home again, amongst people she’d known and loved since childhood. She’d have to find herself a job, but if Jake was right, one wouldn’t be hard to come by, and thank goodness she’d come back before her father’s operation.

  Gordon Mackenzie was sitting in the large oak chair by the huge fireplace, but stood up as she came towards him, his face beaming happily. That was why Cara thought he was play-acting when quite suddenly and with a terrible groan his expression changed to one of agony. With a choking cry he clutched his chest and sank to the floor, tearing at the collar on his shirt.

  She stared at him for a second, unable to take in the reality of the situation. Then it was as if she were moving in slow motion, her legs seeming like lead as she struggled to find the impetus to reach her father’s inert body on the floor.

  ‘Dad,’ she whispered desperately. ‘Dad, what’s the matter? Oh, God, hang on there! Don’t go! Don’t go!’

  Even as she reached him, her arms going round him protectively, the thought flashed into her head that little Dan might never get to know his grandfather. Within seconds she felt a strong grip round her shoulders, and she was almost lifted away from the stricken man. Jake stared down at her grimly.

  ‘Pull yourself together, Cara. You’ve got to be strong for your father now.’

  He bent down and loosened Gordon’s collar and felt the carotid artery in the stricken man’s neck.

  ‘There’s still a pulse. Help me prop him up.’ Jake turned to the frightened group of people gathered round and said crisply, ‘Perhaps you could all go into the dining room.’ He flicked a glance at a woman Cara recognised as the practice nurse. ‘Sheena, ring for an ambulance immediately.’

  Despite her frantic efforts to help him pull her father up against cushions from a chair, Cara was gratefully aware of Jake’s ability to take charge and to lower the tense atmosphere.

  ‘You’ll be all right, Dad. Don’t worry. We’re here for you.’ She tried to keep her voice calm and reassuring.

  Her father gave a slight nod, his face grey, a purple tinge round his mouth. ‘The pain,’ he gasped, ‘Not too good.’

  Jake held Gordon’s wrist and timed his pulse. ‘He’s bradycardic—heartbeat well under 60,’ he murmured to Cara. He reached in his pocket. ‘Here’s the key of the drugs cupboard in the surgery—you know where that is, don’t you? We need atropine, adrenaline and morphine. Get two of the men here to bring in an oxygen cylinder from the storeroom.’

  His instructions were clipped and clear, and they gave Cara something to do rather than stare in terror at her father. She turned and ran towards the small wing in the house that was used as a surgery, her legs feeling like melting jelly. Over and over again she whispered to herself, ‘Don’t die, Dad, please, don’t die. We’ve got so much to say to each other.’

  Jake was still kneeling by her father when Cara returned. He was holding Gordon’s hand and talking gently to him, reassuring the man that help was at hand.

  ‘How…how is he?’ she whispered, looking fearfully at the grey tired face and sunken eyes.

  Jake held her gaze for a moment. ‘Be positive,’ he murmured. ‘Let’s get some atropine into him and get his heartbeat up—hopefully we can stabilise him and he won’t arrest. I’ll try with 1 mg atropine.’

  Swiftly he held up the syringe and tested it with a small spray in the air, before injecting it into the man’s arm. Then he hooked a mask round the patient’s face and opened a valve in the oxygen cylinder one of the guests pushed towards him.

  ‘This should give him help with his breathing,’ he remarked in a low voice. ‘Cara, did you by any chance pick up a stethoscope there?’

  Cara gave him one she’d picked up from the surgery and watched Jake bend forward, listening to her father’s heartbeat. Her own heart was beating so rapidly with suspense that she could hardly breathe.

  Eventually Jake eased himself back on his heels, and blew out his cheeks with relief. ‘Sounding better all the time. I think we’ve got him on an even keel now.’

  Gradually the colour in Gordon’s cheeks began to return as his labouring heart started to pump blood more quickly round his body. He opened his eyes and through the mask Cara could see him mouth his thanks to herself and Jake. Her eyes filled with tears. Perhaps this time he’d been saved, almost certainly by Jake’s prompt action. She bent down and kissed her father gently on his forehead.

  ‘You’ll be all right, Dad,’ she whispered. ‘And when you’ve had your bypass you’ll be as good as new!’

  The night sky was alive with stars, and a bright moon lit up the sprawling shape of St Cuthbert’s General Hospital. A glitter of frost lay over the car park and the windows of the cars still parked there.

  Cara drew in a deep breath of the astringent air and closed her eyes. Her father was in safe hands and out of danger in the coronary care unit and it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She turned to Jake who had followed her to the hospital in his car and looked up at his tall figure, a dark, comforting outline beside her.

  ‘I…I don’t know how to th
ank you,’ she began. ‘If you hadn’t been there, I don’t think I’d have been quick enough to do something for my father—I just seemed to freeze. It…it’s hard to be objective when the patient’s a relative.’

  ‘Of course you would have coped,’ said Jake briskly. ‘It’s amazing what you can do if you’re forced to.’ He looked down at her closely. ‘You look a bit shattered. How about a cup of coffee before we go home? The staff canteen’s still open across the square here.’

  Suddenly Cara felt ravenously hungry, and realised with surprise that she hadn’t eaten since a hasty snack on her way up from London. Now the relief of knowing her father was all right made the thought of something—anything—seem imperative.

  ‘You don’t suppose they have anything like fish and chips at this hour, do you?’ she enquired wistfully. ‘I’m starving!’

  She could see Jake’s mouth lift in a white grin in the dark. ‘Why not? That’s a great suggestion!’

  Cara sat down in the steamy atmosphere of the canteen, busy with various staff grabbing something to eat during the long night shift. She watched as Jake threaded his way back to her with a tray of food. He seemed to know everyone, and she noted with amusement how the women’s eyes followed him. Jake Donahue was a striking figure in a crowd, especially dressed as he was in evening dress. She looked down in a self-conscious way at her own dress. Somebody had lent her a thick tweed coat as she’d gone in the ambulance with her father, which at least covered her evening attire.

  He put the tray down before her with a grimace. ‘St Cuth’s haute cuisine isn’t all that tempting,’ he remarked. ‘This is the best I could do. I think it’s some sort of fish and an attempt at chips!’

  Cara laughed. ‘I don’t care what it’s like—it’ll keep me going.’

  Jake took a chip from the plate, his eyes regarding her curiously as he bit into it. ‘So what will your plans be now? I imagine you’ll want to stay and see how your father progresses. You’re in general practice in London, aren’t you? Will you be able to get cover?’

  The noise level in the canteen seemed to rise and for a second Cara was silent, cutting up her fish into meticulous little pieces. It seemed incredible that she had only left London early that morning—surely that was light years away. Now she felt as if she was already immersed in the life of Ballranoch. She looked up and sighed—Jake would have to know sooner or later.

  ‘I might as well tell you. I had left London anyway—given up my job. I…I’m hoping to start again somewhere in this area.’

  Jake lifted his eyebrows. ‘You have? I thought it was working out OK.’

  Cara looked at him defensively. ‘It wasn’t London itself. It was…circumstances, and I realised that my father might need me. I decided it was a good time to come back.’

  ‘I see,’ observed Jake drily, with a slight smile. ‘When you decided London was no longer for you, you came running back to Daddy!’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ Cara’s face flushed with anger and she pushed her plate away. ‘You really say the most crass things. Perhaps you could wait until you know all the circumstances until you pass judgement!’

  Jake lifted his hands in apology. ‘You’re right! I was out of order there. I know nothing about it. It’s just that I feel so much for Gordon—he seemed terribly low when you left five years ago, and then when Angela left him last year it was another blow that he seemed unable to come to terms with.’

  Cara bit her lip and looked in silence at the pattern on the Formica tabletop. She flicked a glance at Jake. She doubted whether he knew anything of the dramas that lay behind her flight to London and her subsequent return.

  ‘Angela was the real reason I left home five years ago,’ she said quietly. ‘She made it very clear that I was in the way. As an only child, my father and I were very close and she was intensely jealous of our relationship. Anyway,’ she sighed, ‘it was time I made my way in the big world, and I fell for Toby Walsh, the son of a friend of my father’s—that’s why I went to London.’

  It was only part of the story, Cara reflected as she sipped her coffee. It was all she was prepared to tell at the moment.

  Jake leaned back in his chair. ‘You did the right thing to leave, then. These chances don’t come often and, whatever I said to you, one has to grab them.’

  There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice and Cara looked at him with surprise. ‘You gave me the impression that you thought I was selfish to move away!’

  ‘Perhaps I was biased—the opportunity never arose as far as I was concerned.’ His voice was brisk and he gave a slight smile. ‘One makes the best of circumstances. I’ve been incredibly lucky to work with someone like your father in a part of the world I love.’

  Perhaps she was reading between the lines, reflected Cara as she picked up her handbag, but there seemed to be a hidden agenda somewhere in Jake’s words. She wouldn’t pursue it now.

  ‘Thanks for the meal, Jake. I’d better get back, and I’m sure you have a home to go to as well. By the way, I really appreciate the time you’ve given to help my father.’

  ‘I was pleased to do it,’ Jake said quietly. He stood up and smiled at her before saying diffidently, ‘This is just a thought, but if you’ve come up here to work, what about helping me out in the practice? I need someone and your father’s mind would be set at rest.’

  Cara started to shake her head doubtfully and he put up his hand. ‘Before you dismiss it out of hand, give it some consideration—please!’ He pointed to a phone booth on the wall of the canteen. ‘Just need to call someone before we go. I can’t use my mobile here so I’ll use that one.’

  Cara watched him walk to the phone, wondering vaguely who he was phoning. Then she thought about his suggestion and smiled to herself. Work with Jake Donahue, the most opinionated man she’d met in years? He was a good doctor, no doubt, but could she work with him without completely losing her rag on a regular basis?

  ‘I don’t know if working together would be a good idea,’ she said lightly when he came back. ‘Sparks might fly! I’m not my father, you know. You work so well with him that it might be difficult to make the adjustment to a different person.’

  ‘I’d have to make adjustments anyway,’ he observed quietly. ‘I think we proved earlier that we can work well as a team. I’d really like you to come on board.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not so sure, Jake. Give me time.’ Then she looked up at him mischievously ‘And do you usually get what you want?’

  He nodded, his normally austere expression softening. ‘Nearly always,’ he said firmly.

  They walked across the quadrangle of the park back to the car, and Cara drew in a deep breath of the crystal air—it was like champagne after the city, a sweet, sharp taste to it. Across the still air came the sound of bells, floating in a joyful cacophony, and the plaintive sound of a lone bagpiper playing somewhere in the hills above them.

  ‘What’s that for?’ she said wonderingly.

  Jake Donahue laughed. ‘I’d guess it’s the bells ringing in the New Year, Cara Mackenzie. It’s just on midnight. Had you forgotten it’s hogmanay?’

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise, cheeks pink with the cold night air. ‘Of course,’ she whispered. ‘I’d forgotten—it’s been such a frantic night. The start of a new year!’

  He smiled down at her, suddenly looking gentler, younger. His broad frame was very close, and one of his arms encircled her shoulders, drawing her near to him. She could see his breath, a white mist, smell the male smell of him, and her heart thumped.

  ‘A guid New Year to you and yours,’ he whispered. Then he bent his head to hers and kissed her firmly on her lips. ‘I think this is the usual thing to do on a night like this!’

  The unexpectedness of it made her gasp, and a flash of excitement flickered through her body. It was a special night after all, and suddenly after the tensions of the evening Cara felt her inhibitions melt away. She relaxed for a second against his hard frame, her
arms twining round his neck, pulling him closer to her. Surely, she thought dizzily, one had to celebrate the start of a new year with someone—not just a new year, but a new life!

  ‘And a good New Year to you, Dr Donahue,’ she whispered.

  Then her body arched against his, responding to the hunger she’d felt for so long now, and her lips parted, tasting for a second the saltiness of his mouth. She closed her eyes as she revelled for the first time for many months in the response of her body to a hard, sexy man. She felt his hands stroke back the tendrils of hair blowing about her face, and his lips fluttering over her face, and then her neck, sending electric thrills round her body. It was as if every erogenous zone in her body was waking up after a long sleep and being galvanised with energy. She leant languorously against this man she hardly knew, allowing herself to luxuriate in the feel of his muscular strength.

  Suddenly it wasn’t just the bells of the new year ringing out, but a warning bell clanging loudly somewhere in her head. Just what did she think she was doing—practically encouraging a man she’d barely met to make passionate overtures to her in a car park? She shivered, stepping back firmly from his arms and drawing her coat closely about her, overcome with embarrassment. Cara Mackenzie was always in control, wasn’t she? Not the sort to fling herself at just anyone. She must be out of her mind. Hadn’t she vowed a few weeks ago that she was going to have nothing whatever to do with men for a long long time again?

  ‘We must get back,’ she mumbled. ‘I can’t expect Sheena to watch over Dan any longer. Do you mind?’

  His eyes locked with hers for a minute, an unreadable expression in their depths. He opened the car door for her. ‘Perhaps that’s a good idea,’ he murmured.

  As they drove away from the hospital Cara took a deep breath, her heart still pounding in overdrive, and watched his strong hands on the wheel. She could imagine them still against her cheek, his lips fluttering in the hollow of her neck, and she acknowledged to herself that the reality was every bit as sweet as she had envisaged earlier when his head had been so close to hers at the dance.