There was an equally deserted rugby field and clubrooms between the fire station and the first of the small wooden villas that were homes to the local people who weren’t farmers. Smoke curled from a chimney or two but no other signs of life. The place was dead. Eerily so, compared to Auckland’s bustling inner-city streets. Oh, wait...someone was coming towards Olivia now, on the other side of the road, walking a big, black dog. A middle-aged woman, wearing gumboots and a long, oilskin raincoat, who gave Olivia a hard stare as she went past. Even the dog seemed to be staring at her and it made Olivia feel suddenly even more of a fish out of water. Why had she chosen to wear a tailored pencil skirt and its matching jacket today? Had she really thought that swapping her stilettos for shoes with a lower heel were enough of a nod to country casual?
She turned her back on the woman and lifted her gaze for a moment before she got back into the rental car. She had to admit that the scenery was quite extraordinary with that imposing skyline of snow-peaked mountains looming over the town. On top of being an object of such curiosity for a local, the natural grandeur around Olivia was making her feel rather small and insignificant.
Vulnerable, even? No. She got back into the car and took the next right-hand turn. She had every right to defend herself and she was here to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. Vulnerable people didn’t do that kind of thing, did they?
The houses in this new street had big gardens. Some had empty sections beside the houses and there were animals in them. Goats on chains, a pig, a pony wearing a canvas coat to protect it from the weather. The pony Olivia had had as a child had never needed a canvas coat like that. It had lived in a warm stable, as pampered as Olivia had been herself in that exclusive, private boarding school an hour’s drive out of London. She hadn’t thought of that beloved pony for years and the memory, closely followed by the feeling of loss, was unwelcome—a bit like being poked with a sharp stick.
There was an older man working in a garden as Olivia turned into the grounds of Cutler’s Creek Community Hospital but he stopped for a long moment to lean on his long-handled hoe and watch her drive slowly past.
‘What?’ Olivia muttered aloud. ‘Do you never get unannounced visitors here?’
He was wearing gumboots, too. If he turned up on an Auckland street in that footwear, he’d get stared at, as well. Or maybe not. The bigger the city, the harder you had to work to get noticed. Her mother, Janice, had taught her that. She’d been very proud of how much notice Olivia had always garnered. Prizes in her school subjects and in the show-jumping ring at weekends or holidays, top marks at medical school, a career choice in a field as prestigious as plastic surgery and, most recently, for making such a good choice for a life partner in Patrick.
But she hadn’t enjoyed the spotlight of being noticed for her own achievements any more than for being her famous mother’s daughter. You got stared at when you were under any kind of spotlight and—like this place—the stares always had an element of judgement about them.
How different was this old, sprawling, wooden building that looked like an oversized villa from the gleaming modern structure that was the private hospital Olivia had been working in only yesterday? There were several parking slots designated for visitors near the front door of the hospital so she took one of them. A quick check of her lipstick in the mirror on the back of the sun flap and Olivia took another deep breath and slammed the car door shut behind her. She might be beginning to have doubts about the wisdom of doing this but she was here now so she might as well get it over with.
The grey-haired, bespectacled woman coming out from behind the desk in the large foyer looked as surprised to see Olivia as the gardener and the dog walker had but at least she wasn’t wearing gumboots.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked.
‘I hope so,’ Olivia answered. ‘I’m here to see Dr Donaldson. Don Donaldson.’
The woman blinked. ‘Do you have an appointment?’
Olivia raised her eyebrows, summoning every ounce of confidence she could. ‘Do I need one?’
‘Ah...’ The woman’s gaze flicked over Olivia’s suit. ‘Are you a drug rep?’
A good part of Olivia’s confidence was starting to ebb away. Did she look like a drug company representative who was here to peddle her company’s drugs or medical products? A salesperson?
‘My name,’ she said coolly, ‘is—’
‘Olivia.’ The deep voice coming from behind her was astonished. ‘It has to be.’
Olivia swung around to see who had followed her in through the front door. A tall man, with rather disreputably rumpled hair and looking like he could do with a shave to get rid of that designer stubble, was wearing a white coat over...good grief...jeans?
He was looking at her as if she was the last person he’d expected to see standing in the foyer of this hospital. Or the last person he wanted to see?
‘And you must be Isaac Cameron.’
The curl of one side of his mouth was nothing short of downright cheeky. Impertinent, actually. ‘Spot on. How did you guess? I have to admit I had the advantage of having seen your photograph when I stalked you online yesterday.’
It was Olivia’s turn to stare. It had been his voice, she realised. That accent with the hint of a Celtic lilt that was even more noticeable in real life. She’d had no idea what the owner of that voice would look like, however, and she was taken aback. More than that. She was more than a bit...gobsmacked, to be honest.
Isaac Cameron had to be the most attractive man she had ever seen in her entire life and, as a disconcerting thought that came from nowhere, Olivia wondered why she’d assumed that men like Simon—and Patrick, for that matter—were so good looking because of that groomed, perfect style. This Isaac Cameron was the complete opposite. He should have had a haircut weeks ago. He had curls of dark hair touching the collar of his white coat and the locks over his forehead had been pushed back, probably with his fingers rather than a comb.
‘I don’t imagine this hospital is big enough for more than two doctors,’ she said calmly. ‘And you’re not my father.’
The receptionist gasped and then stepped back as if she wanted the protection of being behind her desk again. Olivia could feel an appalled stare scorching her skin. So Dr Cameron wasn’t the only person who had judged her and found her to be less than a decent human being? She didn’t like being here, Olivia decided. It had been a mistake to come. And, while she might have managed to sound calm, she was feeling anything but.
This was shocking, that’s what it was. Or perhaps the shock was that odd tingle that was dancing somewhere deep in Olivia’s gut as she made eye contact with a pair of eyes that were the colour of a very rich caramel.
Dear Lord...she was attracted to this man?
A whole lot more than she’d ever been attracted to any man in the past?
He clearly wasn’t aware of any unwelcome chemical alchemy in the atmosphere. He broke the eye contact instantly to allow his gaze to take in her outfit and the curl of his mouth now suggested that it wasn’t at all to his taste but it was exactly what he might have expected her to be wearing. He was making judgements again, wasn’t he? About her clothes and her lifestyle. About the relationship she didn’t have with her father. About her...
‘Good to know you remember what he looks like.’
Olivia’s breath came out in a startled huff. The hospital receptionist cleared her throat as if she was trying not to laugh. Or convey some kind of warning, perhaps, about who might be overhearing their conversation?
The voice from someone coming into the reception area from an inner corridor was annoyed.
‘Ah, there you are, Zac. Where the dickens have you put Geoffrey Watkins’s file? I need to see his last ECG.’
The shock wave that shot down Olivia’s spine now had nothing whatsoever to do with any physical attraction. She knew this voice almost as well as she kn
ew her own and the sound of it was like a door opening into an entire roomful of memories she didn’t want to revisit. Because this man had broken her heart so badly it was never going to be the same. She could never again in her life trust that it was safe to love someone that much...
She turned very slowly, steeling herself to face her father.
For his part, Don Donaldson barely gave her a glance before focusing on Isaac as he walked towards them, but then his steps faltered and his gaze returned to Olivia. He went pale. For a split second Olivia felt a beat of fear that the surprise of her visit might actually do physical harm to her father and give him a heart attack or stroke or something. Oddly, the fear made it feel like she had something to lose all over again.
Don opened his mouth and his voice came out as no more than a hoarse whisper. ‘Libby?’
Oh...that hurt with an unexpected ferocity. No one had been allowed to call her that since she’d been about eight years old. Ever...
‘My name is Olivia,’ she said, pronouncing the words as if it was of great importance that they were heard clearly.
‘But...but what the hell are you doing here?’
Olivia blinked. ‘What? This was your idea... What you wanted...’
Her father was still looking pale. Shocked. Not at all as if his dying wish was being unexpectedly granted.
‘Ah...’ Isaac held out his hands as if he was about to start directing traffic. ‘Let’s take this into the staffroom, shall we? I might be able to explain.’
‘My office,’ Don snapped. ‘I don’t want any more of my private business being broadcast, thank you very much.’
The receptionist was being scowled at. She pursed her lips. ‘I think you know me better than that, Dr Donaldson.’
His grunt might have been an apology but Olivia was frowning herself as she followed him. This grumpy, older man was a very different person from the father she remembered but perhaps that was a good thing. The past could be left in the past and all she needed to do now was to clear the air of any injustice and get back to where she belonged.
* * *
If Isaac Cameron had been wearing a tie, he might have felt the need to loosen it a little as he followed Don Donaldson’s daughter into his boss’s office. This was his fault but, in his defence, he’d never expected Olivia Donaldson to rock up to this hospital unannounced. On the very next day to him making that phone call? Man, he must have touched a nerve...
And, even though he’d seen her profile picture on the staff list of the Plastic Surgery Institute in Auckland, he’d never expected that she’d be quite so...so stunning in real life. Tall and slim, with that long, honey-blonde hair combed neatly back into a complicated-looking plait. Eyes that were so blue you had to wonder if they were real. He knew she was a well-respected plastic surgeon but she could have had a career as a supermodel if she’d wanted to. It wasn’t just her looks, though. There was something about her voice or the way she moved or...perhaps it was her perfume. Whatever... Isaac had never for a moment expected to be attracted to this woman but his body seemed to be defying any orders from his brain right now.
Perhaps it was just an illusion. He was rattled, that’s what it was. He hadn’t expected her to turn up and now he was responsible for an imminent encounter that was quite likely to be awkward, if not potentially damaging to everybody involved, including himself. Sure enough, Don rounded on Isaac the moment his office door was closed behind the trio.
‘You told her, didn’t you? After I specifically asked you to keep the information to yourself?’
‘Ah...’ Technically, Zac had made the call before Don had requested confidentiality but he’d known that he shouldn’t be doing it. ‘Sorry, Don... I thought it was the right thing to do. That your daughter should know that...’
‘That your dying wish was to see me again?’ Olivia was shaking her head. ‘But that’s not actually true, is it?’
Don’s eyebrows rose and then lowered even more as he scowled at Isaac. ‘You said that?’
‘I don’t remember saying exactly that,’ Zac admitted. ‘I was a bit riled up on your behalf, though. After seeing all those letters that Olivia had refused to read.’
‘I didn’t refuse to read them.’ Olivia was sounding pretty riled up herself now. ‘I never received them. I’m not sure I even believe they exist.’
Zac couldn’t help glancing up at the shelf where that filing box was sitting. When he looked down again, he found both Olivia and Don glaring at him and the similarity in their gazes almost made him smile. Clearly father and daughter still had things in common.
‘They don’t exist any more,’ Don muttered. ‘I put them through the shredder. But even if they were still in that box, they’re just ancient history. Totally irrelevant.’
If he hadn’t still been watching Olivia so closely, Zac might have missed the way she swallowed hard just then. Those letters had been important to her, hadn’t they? Maybe she was telling the truth and she hadn’t known they existed and maybe she’d wanted to see them. There was something about the way she was taking a breath that made him think she was struggling with this. That, despite her very put-together and poised outward appearance, she was actually feeling quite vulnerable. The shrug of her shoulders was definitely defensive.
‘I really don’t care,’ she said. ‘But I do believe that seeing me before you died wasn’t something on any list of priorities you might have. After all, you’ve had more than twenty-five years to do something about that. The real reason I came was to tell you it’s not fair...’
Yes...there was a tiny wobble in her voice that made Zac wish he’d never made that call. What right had he had to interfere in someone else’s life and upset them? And Don was looking alarmingly pale, as if he could collapse at any moment. If he did, it would be entirely Zac’s fault. Olivia Donaldson was looking a bit pale herself. Old wounds were being opened here. Deep wounds.
‘It’s not fair to let people think it was me who rejected you,’ Olivia continued. ‘When it was totally the other way round. What kind of father just walks out of his kid’s life and never looks back?’
He was looking back yesterday, Zac wanted to say. He was looking back and crying... But he kept his mouth shut and said nothing. Because he’d said too much already.
‘The lousy kind,’ Don said. ‘And I don’t blame you for hating me. I just don’t understand why you’ve bothered coming all this way to find me.’
‘Because someone suggested that I might regret not taking the last chance I’ll ever have to see you.’ Olivia’s chin rose. ‘And I decided I wanted to tell you face to face what I thought of you. It’s not much, actually. Not as a father. Or as a husband, for that matter. Mum told me how little support she got from you with her career choices. I’m not sure I think much of you as a doctor, either, when you’re not even getting proper medical treatment. What kind of example is that to your patients? How can anyone trust you to do what’s best for them if you won’t even do it for yourself?’
Zac sucked in a breath. Wow... He might have wanted to say something similar to Don himself, but he’d never have delivered it with that much...passion. There were deep feelings there that were showing themselves in anger but he could feel something very different beneath what was showing. He could almost see a small girl who was bewildered and hurt because her father had abandoned her.
What on earth had made Don do something so appalling? There was a part of him who wanted to step in and simply give Olivia a hug. But he could imagine how unwelcome that would be. He shouldn’t even be in this room. This was none of his business.
Don must have been reading his mind.
‘This is none of your business,’ he growled. Except that he was talking to Olivia, not Zac. ‘I didn’t ask you to come here. You shouldn’t have come. You don’t belong here, any more than your mother did. Why don’t you just get out while the going’s good?�
�
Oh, no... Zac found he was holding his breath. Could things get any worse?
Apparently, they could.
‘Oh, don’t worry.’ Olivia was already turning on her heel. ‘That’s precisely what I’m going to do.’
Zac had to steel himself to meet Don’s gaze as the door slammed behind his daughter. He knew he was going to be facing a man who had every right to be very angry with him.
Except he didn’t look angry. He looked...as sad as anyone Zac had ever seen.
‘You can go, too,’ he said quietly. ‘Just leave me alone, okay?’
* * *
Her hands were shaking so much that it took two attempts to get the rental car started. And then Olivia found that her vision was blurred by tears so she had to pull over, not far from where she’d stopped not so long ago, near the fire station. She swiped at her face and hauled in one deep breath after another as she tried to calm down. Why on earth was she so upset? Had she expected anything else from the man who’d walked out of her life when she was far too young to understand what might have driven him to do that? Had she had some deeply hidden hope that she might discover that her father did still love her, like that stranger had suggested in his phone message?
Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t expressed any desire to even see her before he died. That was simply a flight of fancy by someone who’d had no business interfering. Stirring up things that would have best been left alone. And, yes, it hurt but it was a pain Olivia had had plenty of practice dealing with. She’d had it nailed by the time she was in her early teens so nothing had really changed. She’d made a mistake by coming here, that was all, and the best that she could do now to repair the damage was to get away from this place as quickly as possible and try to just forget about it. At least she’d left the township behind now. There was farmland on either side of the road and she was heading towards the narrow, winding road that led through the gorge.
Melting the Trauma Doc's Heart Page 3
