The Surgeon's Engagement Wish

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Looks like a degloving injury.’ Beth eyed the mangled skin and flesh dubiously. ‘I can’t see any obvious fracture.’

  ‘Use that towel that Doris has to cover it.’ The ambulance was pulling to a halt and Luke was watching for the paramedic to emerge. ‘Sally—good to see you. We need some large dressings, stat. I didn’t have my first-aid kit on me.’

  Sally’s partner put an oxygen cylinder on its side near Luke and attached a high-concentration mask to the outlet.

  ‘Can you grab a collar, please?’ Luke asked him. ‘And, Beth, could you help me get his helmet off so we can put a collar on? Sally can deal with that leg. She’s got gloves on.’

  They should all have gloves on, Beth realised. She slipped hands that already had smears of blood on them inside the bike helmet to hold the youth’s head as Luke gently eased the bulky item clear. His movements were very careful and he was making very sure he didn’t move the man’s neck as he removed the helmet.

  It was inevitable that their hands would touch. And not just briefly. At one point Luke’s hands overlaid Beth’s as he inched the helmet clear with tiny increments of zigzagging pressure from his thumbs. Every second of that physical contact seemed to Beth to stretch into infinity. The effect of the most fleeting touch that night of the thoracotomy had been noticeable and they had both been wearing gloves that night.

  This was bare flesh against bare flesh and the nerves in Beth’s hands had caught fire. The burning sensation was travelling up her arms and then spiralling down to somewhere deep in her abdomen.

  ‘Right. Keep holding that position, Beth, until we get the collar into place.’

  Things seemed to happen fast after that. Too fast. The injured man was given oxygen. An IV line was inserted. His level of consciousness was improving rapidly as his leg was covered with sterile dressings and then a pressure bandage put on to control the bleeding. His neck was encased in a semi-rigid collar and then he was strapped to a backboard, with cushions and straps ensuring that no untoward movement could worsen a neck injury.

  Within fifteen minutes they were ready to load and Luke was heading for his vehicle.

  ‘I’ll go in with him,’ he told Beth. ‘He’s going to need that leg cleaned out under anaesthetic. Do you want a lift home?’

  ‘No. I’m living just across the road.’

  ‘Really? You’re lucky. Places this close to the beach don’t come up very often.’

  ‘I’m in the motel.’ Beth felt inexplicably embarrassed and dropped her gaze. It felt like she was admitting some kind of failure. She was a displaced person with no home. ‘Just temporarily.’

  ‘Oh-h.’ The drawn-out monosyllable had an odd tone to it. Beth glanced up but could then see why Luke sounded odd. He was staring at her feet and Beth blushed.

  ‘They were a present,’ she muttered. ‘From a good friend.’

  ‘Very cute.’ Luke looked up and caught her gaze. And then he smiled. Beth smiled back and for just a moment there was a connection of shared amusement. And then, suddenly, there was a much deeper connection and their smiles dimmed as quickly as if a switch had been flicked.

  And they both turned away at precisely the same moment. The ambulance edged past and Sally was looking out of the driver’s window.

  ‘Shall I tell them you’re on your way, Luke?’

  ‘I’ll be right behind you.’ Luke got into his vehicle and drove away. Beth had no idea whether he looked back or said goodbye because she was walking back to her motel unit and she did not turn back.

  At least, not until his car was just a black speck at the far end of the road.

  Daytime shifts at Ocean View were busy enough to leave Beth little time to think about personal issues, which was just as well because she seemed to see rather a lot of Luke over the next four shifts.

  Did he never have days off? Why didn’t he send a registrar or houseman down when surgical opinions were sought in the emergency department?

  And how did a population base as small as that which Ocean View serviced manage to produce so many patients requiring the skills of a general surgeon? There had been two cases of obstructed bowels and a perforated duodenal ulcer. A baby had come in with a Meckel’s diverticulum and there had been an elderly man whose colostomy had broken down. Then there had been a case of rectal cancer, a femoral hernia and a nasty abscess or two.

  Beth counted them off on her fingers. OK, so Luke hadn’t appeared to assess them all but he had appeared in the department at least once every day. There had also been the times she had spotted him in the staff cafeteria and he had driven past her when she had been walking home yesterday. There was simply no way to avoid the accumulation of reactions that required considerable thought when she had her quiet moments away from the hospital.

  None of those occasions had provoked more turmoil than the encounter on Tuesday evening, however. It had been a long and very hot day and Roz had persuaded Beth to have a quick swim in the hospital pool before heading home.

  ‘But I don’t have any swimming togs.’

  ‘Chelsea keeps some in her locker. She won’t mind if you borrow them.’

  And Chelsea had arrived for her night shift and agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Go for it,’ she’d urged Beth. ‘My togs should fit you.’

  They had, though rather too snugly for Beth’s comfort. She had never been a stick figure but the cut of the costume had given her a cleavage that had made her wish she’d had a T-shirt available to wear on top. At least it had been black, which had helped the hip line, but Beth had regretted her decision to swim the instant she had surfaced from her first dive into the deliciously cool water.

  Luke was dropping a towel onto one of the deck chairs surrounding the pool. His swimming shorts were boxer style and hardly revealing, but Beth’s memory banks happily filled in the area covered by the modest costume and suddenly the water lost any of its power to cool and soothe.

  Like his face, the whole of Luke’s body was browner and leaner than it had been six years ago. There wasn’t an ounce of fat to blur the outline of muscle on those long, long legs and broad shoulders. The evening sun gave his bronzed skin a warm glow and Beth had to duck below the surface of the water to stop herself staring.

  Luke was still, by far, the most gorgeous man she had ever met.

  Going underwater was her second mistake of the evening. She had to come up for air eventually and it was unfortunate that her timing and position coincided with Luke completing his initial dive. He surfaced close enough for Beth to be liberally splashed by the water he shook from his head and she could almost feel those long fingers as they raked hair back from his forehead and out of his eyes.

  ‘I sure need a haircut.’ Luke blinked droplets from the thick, dark eyelashes Beth had once coveted, and then his gaze focussed. ‘Oh…hi, Beth.’

  ‘Hi.’ Being below the surface for so long had left her breathless. Beth trod water but the sight of Luke’s near-naked body scrambled her brain and she was totally unable to think of anything else to say.

  ‘Hey, Luke!’ Roz was waving a large Frisbee. ‘Catch!’

  He did and then he flung the Frisbee back to Roz, who immediately flicked it on to Beth. She missed, thanks to her reluctance to launch herself any closer to Luke, but then she caught the mood of the group of people intent on having as good a time as possible as they cooled off and her own agenda could be shoved aside.

  It was fun. Seeing Luke’s glistening body as he leapt and dived as enthusiastically as anyone else was simply a part of that enjoyment. Beth even decided that the way-ward reaction her own body was producing was simply another memory that hadn’t been adequately filed.

  The mental filing proved difficult, however. It was easy enough to locate the pocket it should go in once Beth was alone later that evening, but the temptation to ruffle through other memories of Luke’s body proved too powerful.

  The way he had kissed her. No, the way he had looked at her before he had kissed her. As though she had been the onl
y thing in the universe that Luke had been aware of. The only thing that had mattered. His hands would cradle her head so gently and Beth would watch his eyes and then his lips as he started to slowly close the distance between them. And Beth would be in freefall, the anticipation and excitement and sheer driving lust making her as completely focussed on Luke as he was on her.

  The memory had been enough all by itself to stir a physical reaction that could only leave pure frustration in its wake. Beth had shoved the memory back, thrown in the one of Luke in the swimming pool and tried to slam the drawer shut on the mental filing cabinet. She had tried very hard.

  And yesterday, Wednesday, she had avoided even looking at Luke when he’d been in the department, in case that drawer broke a lock she knew was weak and started sliding open. She had kept her head down and repeated very firmly to herself that nothing had changed.

  Just because he was still such an attractive man didn’t change a thing. The fact that her relationship with Luke had been enough to sour any later attempts to connect to other men also changed nothing. Luke Savage was not the man she needed in her life right now. She was not going to go down that road again no matter what Neroli thought because she knew there was an accident scene at the other end of the road and that the victim would be herself.

  She didn’t need Luke in her life. She didn’t need any man in her life. At least, not until she had sorted herself out a little more. No wonder her relationships in the last few years had never worked out. How could she hope to be happy with someone else if she wasn’t happy with herself?

  What she needed, Beth decided, was a focus that was purely selfish. Something that would keep her busy outside working hours. Busy enough to get past the mental block Luke had presented. Heavens, if she kept up thinking about the man this much, she would have to admit it was becoming an obsession and that would be totally unacceptable. Pathetic, even.

  Beth used her days off to search for that new focus. One of the benefits of living in a motel was the wealth of pamphlets available that extolled all the attractions of the area she was now living in. On her first days off after the night shifts, Beth travelled the short distance to the Marlborough Sounds and she fell in love with the seemingly infinite number of sheltered bays and islands. The wildlife cruise she took let her see tiny blue penguins for the first time and almost touch a dolphin that cruised on her side of the shallow boat.

  There were plenty more attractions. Hereford was a town in an area now famous for its vineyards and crafts. There were fabulous restaurants to try, gardens to visit, riverboat cruises and the most wonderful shopping at numerous craft galleries and markets. Beth set out to explore and found herself tasting treats like early cherries, asparagus and crayfish caught just down the coast at Kaikoura. She made plans to attend the upcoming wine and food festival that was now a major attraction for Marlborough, and she stopped her car on several occasions just to admire the views.

  She loved it all. The sea and forests, the hills and mountains. She loved the fabulous climate and the casual way people dressed. The way Doris from the dairy always greeted her by name and the wonderful sunsets she was in the habit of watching from a now favourite boulder on the beach near the motel.

  What she didn’t love was the motel unit and the way the walls closed in on her when she had to return to sleep, but on her second day off Beth found the answer. She had started making an effort to stop at every tiny craft gallery she passed in her explorations the previous day but she almost missed this one. The hand-painted sign advertising pottery was only just visible beneath the ivy creeping up its pole. The shop was just as low key—part of a shed that housed the artist’s kiln.

  But there it was. The Answer. Staring at Beth in the form of a casserole dish. The pottery was gorgeous. With a base colour of a rich, earthy brown, a golden-hued glaze had been applied so that it looked as if something had boiled over and oozed down the sides to finally trickle into droplets that ringed the base like jewels. What really captured Beth, however, was not the piece of pottery so much as what it represented.

  Home. An oven from which the aroma of a hot, meaty dinner wafted on a cold winter’s night. A family big enough to warrant cooking the size of casserole this dish would hold. A table big enough for them all to gather around. Beth could almost hear the laughter and feel the love around that table, and the yearning was strong enough to be painful.

  That was what she wanted in her life. What she had always wanted even when she had been too young to understand what had been missing. Waiting for the right partner to provide a home was never going to work. And it didn’t matter because Beth could do it for herself. Well, maybe not the family bit but she could certainly do the rest.

  ‘I’ll take this dish, please,’ she told the owner of the kiln. ‘I just love it. And you wouldn’t happen to know any local real estate agents, would you?’

  The first step was taken late the same afternoon and it was with a sense of growing excitement that Beth found herself being chauffeured around Hereford by Ronald from L. J. Homes Ltd, viewing any available properties within easy commuting distance of Ocean View hospital.

  ‘I’d like something old,’ she told Ronald. ‘I’d be happy to renovate.’ Restoring an old house would be a wonderful project to keep her occupied outside work, wouldn’t it? And it would be a home. A real home. She would spend all the money she had saved so carefully ever since she had started working. She would buy at least part of the dream symbolised by the casserole dish that was now looking oddly out of place on the tiny kitchenette bench of her motel unit.

  ‘I’d really like to be near the beach,’ she added.

  ‘Might be a bit pricey for you, love.’ Ronald consulted a printout of listed properties he had in his briefcase. ‘We could get you up on the hills maybe, with a view of the sea. Or what about south of town, near the river?’

  Beth was looking at the printout as well. ‘That cottage looks cute. Can I see that first?’

  So they drove a little north of Hereford. Ronald’s car slowed to negotiate the bend at the top of a hill and Beth turned her head sharply to peer at the yellow wooden arrow on her side of the road.

  ‘So that’s where Boulder Bay is!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Do you know it?’

  ‘I’ve heard of it.’ Beth wished she hadn’t sounded so interested. To have any thoughts of Luke encroaching on this new adventure took some of the excitement away.

  ‘Nothing for sale down there,’ Ronald told her. ‘And even if there was, you couldn’t afford it, I’m afraid. Besides, the road’s awful and the residents aren’t going to pay for it to get upgraded. They like their privacy.’

  ‘How many houses are down there?’

  ‘Only one.’ Ronald was increasing speed as the road led down the other side of the hill. ‘Belongs to one of the docs at the hospital. You said you were a nurse, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You probably know the bloke, then. Luke Savage?’

  ‘I’ve met him.’ Beth’s tone prompted a glance from Ronald who instantly dropped the subject and left them in silence until he pulled up outside the cottage Beth wanted to view.

  Not that she took that much notice of the tour. Ronald had said ‘they’. If there was more than one resident to the exclusive Boulder Bay, it had to mean that Luke was sharing his house.

  Who with? The woman wearing the wedding ring? No. Beth actually shook her head. It simply didn’t fit.

  Ronald had noticed the unconscious gesture. ‘Not what you’re looking for?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Right. Let’s try something else, then. There’s a house not too far from here. We might as well have a look while we’re on this side of town.’

  Beth took more notice of this property but it was an isolated cottage and so rundown it would be a daunting prospect to renovate. She loved the acre of land that came with it, however, and spent some time exploring the sheds. It was Ronald who called it a day.

  ‘It’
s getting late,’ he reminded Beth. ‘I’d like to drive you past another place while there’s still enough daylight to see. And then I’d better get you home.’

  But Beth wasn’t quite ready to go back to the sterile motel unit.

  ‘I might walk,’ she told Ronald. ‘Can you drop me at the top of the hill?’

  ‘It’ll take you hours.’

  ‘It’s only a few kilometres. I often walk for an hour or more on my days off. I could do with the exercise.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’ Ronald stopped the car but looked dubious. ‘It’s going to get dark before you get home.’

  ‘I’m sure. Thanks very much for your time, Ronald. I’ll have a think about those houses and call you tomorrow.’

  The walk would be a good time to think and Beth really did want some vigorous exercise. It wasn’t until the taillights of Ronald’s car blinked as he slowed further down the hill that she realised just where she had requested the stop. Her breath left her lungs in an incredulous huff as she saw the yellow arrow sign.

  Boulder Bay.

  How far would she have to walk down the road in order to see the house Luke lived in? Beth’s steps slowed but didn’t stop. No. It would be just too embarrassing if he caught her acting like some sort of stalker.

  But was the beach as beautiful as Roz had told her? And what sort of house did Luke live in? Ten days ago Beth would have been quite confident that any real estate Luke purchased would have to be an architectural statement that advertised status. If it was, maybe the mystery of why Luke had compromised his career to such a degree would be solved. Had he been so successful already that he was in a kind of early retirement?

  The thought was intriguing enough to make Beth stop. Just a quick look to satisfy her curiosity, she decided. With a rapid scan for traffic, Beth almost scuttled across the road and set off towards Boulder Bay at a brisk pace. Twenty minutes later she could see the outlines of a house set into the cliffside at the far end of a picture-perfect bay, despite the light fading more rapidly than she had expected. There were no lights on. Maybe Luke had been held up at work. He could be sitting on a deck, enjoying the sunset, or maybe he used this part of his day to wander on what had to be almost a private beach.