To the Doctor: A Daughter

by Marion Lennox

  Silence.

  The silence went on and on, stretching into the night. Neither of them knew what it was that was being asked-or decided. All they knew was that there were currents running between them that were as old as time itself.

  Time is. Time is yet to come.

  Gemma knew what Nate was going to do before he did it. She guessed. Or rather she felt his intention in a part of her body that had nothing to do with consciousness. And everything to do with the need between a man and a woman.

  He kissed her. How could he not? She was so…

  He hardly knew what she was, but she was there, and her face was looking up at him, her eyes were wide with wonder and her expression was mutely waiting-wondering. And when he bent and kissed her it was like the coming together of two halves of a whole.

  She was so sweet. She was so…right!

  Gemma.

  They knew each other not at all-yet so well. Each curve of their bodies fitted together with a sureness-a rightness that couldn’t be argued with.

  Nate felt his body stiffen in shocked recognition. He knew this woman. He knew her! His mind numbed as his mouth tasted the woman in his arms.

  Because suddenly, shockingly, nothing had ever felt so right before.

  And Gemma…

  For a moment she didn’t respond at all. She couldn’t. And then, as though responding to a force beyond her understanding, she opened her mouth to him. But more than that.

  She opened her heart…

  Nate felt her lips move beneath his as her body melted into his. Chest against breast-man against woman-aching-wanting-welcoming, as a woman welcomed a man home after battle. Home to hearth and to heart.

  There were forces at work here that neither could recognise-forces that were stronger than both of them.

  Unconsciously Nate’s hands fell to pull her body tighter against him-loving the way her breasts moulded themselves against his chest. His kiss deepened and so did the wonder. His mouth was tasting her-searching-wanting-seeking to know how this could be-that he’d found wonder in such a place. With such a woman.

  The woman he was holding was like no woman he’d ever kissed. She felt…right.

  Why? She was nothing like the other women he’d known! She wore no trace of make-up. Her clothes were stained and old, her hair twisted haphazardly into a hastily arranged braid, she was too thin, too tired, too weighed down by the encumbrances of her world.

  How could she be filling this need-this need he’d never been aware he had?

  In the end it was his shock that made him draw back-to pull away and hold her at arm’s length to see what it was about her that was so amazing-to see who it was that he was holding. He hardly knew, and what he saw confused him still further.

  She was such a slip of a thing-a waif. She held not a candle to the likes of Donna and Fiona.

  What was he thinking of, kissing her? What had he done? She’d threatened to run because he’d tried to leave his baby with her. And now… Now he’d kissed her. Would she run now?

  For a long, long moment they stared at each other, their confusion mirrored in each other’s eyes.

  ‘Gemma…’ His voice was damnably unsteady. Hell, he was damnably unsteady.

  ‘Don’t…don’t apologise,’ she managed. Dear God, it needed only that. For him to kiss and apologise.

  ‘I don’t-’

  ‘You don’t understand. Good. That makes two of us.’

  ‘I never meant…’

  ‘And neither did I.’

  ‘So…’

  ‘So I’ll go to bed.’ Then, as he made to move toward her again-to gather her in his arms again because that was what they both wanted and he knew it-she held up her hands as if to fend him off. ‘No.’

  ‘But you want-’

  ‘I don’t know what I want,’ she said in a jagged whisper. ‘The only thing I do know is that I need to go to bed. Right now. You said you wouldn’t jump me, Nate Ethan. You said Fiona did all the running. So why don’t I believe a word you say?’

  And that was it. She turned and ran down the corridor without a backward look.

  Why did Gemma unsettle him so badly? What was it with the woman? And why the hell had he kissed her?

  Nate lay awake almost until dawn. Hell, he usually slept like a log-but something about Gemma Campbell was getting under his skin.

  Why?

  She wasn’t the sort of woman who usually interested him. He liked his women gorgeous and beautifully groomed and sort of cool…

  Like Donna?

  Yeah. Like Donna. He thought of her now, her svelte figure, her long manicured fingers, her oh, so carefully applied make-up.

  Gemma didn’t look as if she knew what make-up was. He’d seen her while she’d sat with Cady this evening, her face troubled and her blunted fingernails going to her mouth in a gesture of pure worry.

  Why was she so worried? Cady would be fine-and he was only her nephew after all.

  No. He was much more than that, Nate corrected himself. When Gemma gave her heart she gave it absolutely-and she’d given her heart to Cady. A mother couldn’t have loved a child any more than Gemma loved her nephew.

  Gemma…

  He could still feel her in his hands. He could still taste her.

  He still wanted her-damn, for some stupid reason he wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in his life before.

  Why?

  There was a murmur in the crib beside him and he almost welcomed the interruption to his thoughts. Mia. He had worries of his own besides Gemma. Responsibilities.

  He headed for the kitchen and made up a bottle, then returned to the bedroom to change and feed his baby. This was nappy number six and he was getting more proficient by the minute.

  ‘We’re doing OK,’ he told his daughter, taking her back to the warmth of his bed for her feed.

  But as he lay back in the darkened room with Mia in his arms he thought back to the expression he’d seen on Gemma’s face when she’d cuddled Cady. She was a proper mother. She knew how to love her kid.

  He’d love Mia, he thought.

  But, damn, he wasn’t as good at loving as Gemma was. What had she said?

  For you loving’s easy…

  No, he decided. There lay the problem. It wasn’t. Loving was hard. In fact, loving was something he didn’t do. Sure, he’d had a multitude of girlfriends and a couple of them he’d come perilously close to marrying, but now…

  Maybe he’d marry Donna.

  Well, why not? This baby needed a mother.

  But then he let himself think it through and it didn’t seem such a good idea. In fact, it seemed like it would be a disaster. Marry Donna? He needed his head read. She’d run a mile rather than commit herself to a baby.

  But if he promised marriage…

  She just might do it, he thought. They’d been going out together for six months, she was in her early thirties and eager for the full bridal bit so maybe…

  What was he thinking? Nate hauled himself back to reality with a jerk. Donna would make a perfectly appalling mother-and he didn’t love her. And she’d be a wife for appearances. There was no depth…

  He looked down at the baby in his arms and his own eyes stared reflectively back at him. He felt his stomach contract into a knot of something he hardly recognised.

  Was he learning to love? Maybe he was. At the very least, he cared.

  ‘You need a mother,’ he told his little one, and let his thoughts drift back to Gemma. But he wasn’t thinking of what he felt about her. He wasn’t thinking of how she’d felt under his hands…under his mouth…

  Somehow he blacked that out. Sort of. What she felt for Cady was what he wanted for his daughter, he decided. This wasn’t about him. It was about Mia and he wanted that commitment.

  ‘So maybe I’d better marry Gemma.’

  Now, there was a thought. He grimaced-and then thought suddenly, Why not?

  Because she’d laugh at the suggestion, he realised.

 
; But if she didn’t…

  The taste of her lips came back to him-the sweetness of her. The moulding of her body.

  ‘Cut it out. It’s a practical idea only. It has nothing to do with my feelings.’

  Marriage to Gemma…

  ‘It’s worth thinking about,’ he told his daughter, and she smiled a windy half-smile-and burped her satisfaction with life in general.

  And in the next room? Gemma lay awake staring at the ceiling and thought about what Nate had said. And thought about how Nate had felt.

  Which was just plain wonderful.

  ‘I know why you chose him as the father of your baby,’ she said to the dark-to the shadows of her sister. ‘If I was going down your road-suicide by childbirth-then maybe Nate would be the man I’d choose to be the father of my child.’

  Which was crazy. The whole thing was crazy. Suicide by childbirth…

  ‘If I’d had Nate then I’d want to live.’

  She didn’t have Nate. She didn’t have anyone. She hadn’t been near a man since Alan, and what a disaster that had turned out to be. And now? One kiss did not a relationship make, and letting things go further than one stupid kiss wasn’t an option.

  I’d be a fool.

  ‘So Cady’s all the family you ever intend to have?’ she asked herself, and the answer was right there, written in stone in the darkness above her head.

  That’s right. How can I do more?

  But the thought was indescribably bleak. Indescribably lonely.

  Why had she let herself be kissed? Why had she let herself fall-as Fiona had fallen?

  Damn Fiona, she thought. Damn her, damn her, damn her. She’d done so much damage.

  ‘She’s dead now. She can’t hurt you any more.’

  Ha. Would she ever escape from the hurt Fiona had inflicted?

  The thought of Nate’s laughing eyes and his wonderful kiss came into her dreams and stayed there, infinitely sweet, infinitely tempting.

  ‘Yeah. And dreams are all it is. There’s no way someone like that would ever look at the likes of me. As for kissing…he’d kiss a broomstick if he thought it was female and wouldn’t object.’

  But in the next room, Nate was thinking of weddings.

  ‘I think we might take Cady’s drip out today.’

  It was breakfast time. Gemma had hardly slept and there were dark shadows under her eyes. Nate noticed but didn’t comment. They were alone in the kitchen. Graham was relishing the fact that he wasn’t needed medically so after an evening of playing the Major-General he’d decided to have a good sleep-in.

  Which was what Gemma needed, Nate thought, wondering how he could bully her into it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t bully this woman into anything.

  What lay between them-the memory of a kiss-was like a barrier, erected and in place until further notice.

  ‘That’s…that’s great.’

  What was great? He was distracted. What…?

  Cady. Concentrate on Cady. Right.

  ‘His sugars are down to eight this morning and still dropping. I think we can move to four insulin shots a day and start adjusting his dosage from there.’

  ‘He’ll hate the injections.’

  ‘Kids adjust,’ Nate said gently. ‘The needles are tiny, and he’s a smart enough kid to explain things to.’

  ‘No four-year-old likes being hurt.’

  ‘He’s taken everything on the chin,’ Nate told her. ‘There hasn’t been a tear, even when I’ve done the blood sugars. I think he’s going to be fine.’

  ‘Brave doesn’t equate with fine.’ She stared down at her toast and pushed it away. ‘Brave just means we feel better-not Cady.’

  ‘And not being brave means we don’t eat our toast. Which is silly.’ He pushed it gently under her nose again. ‘Not brave means you don’t measure up to Cady’s standards. You look after yourself, Dr Campbell. It’s the least you can do in the face of Cady’s bravery.’

  Gemma looked up at him and he smiled at her, and his smile was warm and caressing. And something more. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  Proprietorial?

  Surely not. She was hallucinating here.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She chomped into her toast and promptly choked. Nate laughed and came around the table to thump her on the back.

  ‘Not fine enough.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She spluttered on a mouthful of tea and turned a deep pink. What was it with this man? He had the power to make her act like a schoolgirl with a crush. Which she wasn’t.

  Was this a crush? No way.

  ‘H-how’s Milly?’

  ‘Better. I think we might risk taking out the intubation tube this morning.’ Taking out the tube was a delicate timing decision. If they took it out too early, they risked having to put it back in. But if they left it too long, it would further diminish the capacity of Milly’s muscles to keep enough oxygen in her lungs.

  ‘I was waiting to hear what you thought before I made a decision,’ Nate told her, and she coloured again. He’d accepted her training with not a sign of reluctance. She’d worked alongside enough ego-driven young male doctors to know how rare his attitude was.

  ‘I’ll see her after breakfast.’

  ‘How do you feel about running a surgery?’

  Well, why not? She had to start some time. But there was a slight problem. ‘As long as patients don’t mind me as I am.’ She motioned down to her distinctly grubby jeans and T-shirt. ‘I’ll admit this is hardly a confidence-inspiring uniform.’

  ‘I think your problem might be solved. The stationmaster dropped a suitcase off this morning. It’s in the hall.’

  ‘My clothes!’

  ‘That’d be it.’

  ‘Great. Now I can feel normal.’

  Only Gemma didn’t. She changed into a sensible skirt and blouse with flat shoes, braided her hair into a sensible rope and headed for the surgery feeling stranger than she’d ever felt in her life. And when she met Nate the feeling intensified. He looked down at her clothes and his eyes creased in distaste.

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’

  ‘Is that the politest you can be?’ she retorted.

  ‘They’re awful.’

  ‘As opposed to, say, what Donna would wear?’

  ‘As opposed to what anyone who’s not on welfare would wear.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s nearly me.’ She bit her lip. She knew these clothes were bad-her skirt was years old, her blouse was torn across the shoulder and she’d stitched it up, and her shoes-well, in fact, they had come from a welfare shop.

  ‘You’ve been working as an anaesthetist for how long?’

  ‘I’ve been fully qualified for three years.’

  ‘Registrars are well paid even before they’re qualified. That means you’ve been on a decent salary for well over five years. What gives?’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’

  Wasn’t it? Maybe not. But he really wanted to know.

  ‘Gemma…’

  ‘Look, my sister left debts,’ she flung at him. ‘My mother spent every penny she had on Fiona-there was nothing left when she died-and I married an absolute skunk who’s cleaned me out for everything I owned and then some. If I work solidly for the next thirty years I may just clear my debts. Maybe.’

  That stunned him. She was married?

  ‘I didn’t know…’

  But it was a road she didn’t want to travel with him. ‘No,’ she said in a voice that said any more enquiries were a waste of time. ‘But a white coat hides a multitude of sins. So can we get on with it, please?’

  ‘I guess…’

  How come she’d been married?

  Nate wanted to know. Desperately he wanted to know, but the more he saw of her the more she held herself aloof.

  Was Gemma divorced?

  It didn’t matter. Or it shouldn’t matter. As long as her previous marriage was over, she was available. And this was a good plan. Once he’d thought of marriage the idea wouldn’t go aw
ay.

  But…was she free? Or was she still married?

  Damn, he had to find out. She had him intrigued.

  Intrigued as opposed to interested, he told himself hastily. Since when had he ever been interested in drab little females with children in tow? No. He definitely wasn’t interested.

  But he was definitely intrigued.

  And shabby or not, married or not, the patients loved Gemma. By the end of her first day in clinic Nate was hearing nothing but praise for his new partner. By the end of the week it was a ground swell.

  ‘They want you to stay,’ he told her as they sat down to dinner on Friday night. Graham was off being the Major-General, Nate had refused an invitation to go out to dinner with friends-Donna would be there and his current plans definitely didn’t include Donna-and they were eating at home. With Cady and Mia asleep, it felt so domestic he could practically hear the theme from The Brady Bunch playing in the background.

  ‘Who wants me to stay?’

  ‘Everyone.’ He looked across the table at his intended wife. She was a peaceful woman, he thought. She’d moved into their house and she may as well not have been there for all the trouble she caused. Cady was a quiet kid and she was quieter. She spoke when spoken to, kept herself to herself and at the end of the week he knew little more about her than he had at the start.

  But there were things he wanted to know. Like-who was her husband?

  But while his mind was flying off on tangents she was still back at thinking of the people who wanted her to stay. ‘Including you?’

  ‘Including me.’ He smiled at her and wished that she’d smile back. She was too darned serious for his liking. ‘Gemma, this week has been fantastic. We’ve done a full surgical list. We’ve been able to put two more nurses on and that’s two more families with a second income-in this farming community that’s wonderful. The hospital will go from strength to strength if you stay.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She still sounded noncommittal.

  Damn, she had to stay. She must.

  ‘And Graham’s having the time of his life.’ He pressed on, regardless of her lack of enthusiasm. ‘He’s seeing a few old patients every morning and the rest of the time he’s free. Which is just the way he wants it. You must be able to see that he’s feeling like the weight of the world’s been lifted from his shoulders?’