Healed by Her Army Doc

by Meredith Webber

  Not that the wound necessitated that, but with the alcohol in her, she needed to be sedated. A mild dose of ketamine, easy to administer into a muscle and safe to use on inebriated patients. She spoke to the nurse, who hurried away to get the drug, while Kate checked the sutures on the tray.

  Some internal absorbable ones for the inner layer of skin on the deeper part of the wound, and exactly what she’d have chosen for the closure.

  She smiled to herself, aware she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d spent a lot of time in the ED, sewing up injured patients, and most of the staff knew how she worked. And conscious of not leaving a bad scar, she worked carefully, although it meant she was going to be late for assisting in a scheduled op with her supervisor.

  Not that he’d need her—it was an op an intern could assist with, but she admired the man who was guiding her career path at the moment, and loved watching him work.

  Slipping late into Theatre, the nod her supervisor gave her acknowledged that he’d known where she’d been, but settling into her accustomed place across the table from him was—

  Well, different somehow.

  As if!

  Surely one night of romance didn’t mean everything had changed.

  So why did it feel that way?

  She looked around but all the faces were familiar, so she glanced up into the glassed-in gallery above the theatre—the usual bunch of students there, some in white coats, some in civvies.

  Some in civvies?

  She darted another look into the gallery.

  No, she hadn’t been mistaken, that was definitely Angus up there, talking to one of the hospital administrators, a new man she’d heard of but had rarely seen.

  She forced herself to concentrate on what was happening in front of her, steeling herself against the silly flutters in her body, focussing on cauterising small bleeders, holding organs out of the surgeon’s way, taking over the closing of the wound, slowly and carefully, not daring to look up but hoping he was gone.

  Or that maybe he’d been an apparition!

  She went straight from Theatre to the side room, where she stripped off her scrubs and tossed them into a bin before showering and changing back into clean ones. One of the gynaecology surgeons was doing a keyhole removal of an ovarian cyst, and she wanted to watch the screen as he worked through a tiny slit—well, three tiny slits.

  The ever-expanding use of keyhole surgery fascinated her and although she’d only ever used it to clear infection from an injured knuckle joint—under the watchful eye of a hand surgeon—she wanted to learn as much as she could of the different uses to which it could be put.

  Or was this rushing to another theatre more to do with avoiding the possibility of meeting the apparition in the corridor? It probably hadn’t been him, although her skin had thought it was. But what could he possibly be doing here, and how could she concentrate on work if he was going to keep popping up all over the hospital? She didn’t care whether genies came out of bottles or lamps, there was definitely something genie-like about his appearances in front of her.

  Not to mention distracting!

  * * *

  Angus had been surprised when his uncle had suggested they look in on an operation. He’d imagined that, as an administrator, his uncle would sit in an office all day.

  Waking to find Kate gone, the day had seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him. The phone call from his uncle had also surprised him as the last time he’d seen him, the man who’d been his role model as a child had been working at Royal North Shore Hospital on the other side of the city.

  Apparently, increasing difficulties with the arthritis that had plagued him for years had led him to consider administration—and Bondi Bayside had needed just such a person.

  ‘Word reached me that you were about,’ he’d said, then invited Angus to meet him at the hospital. ‘I’ve got a bit of administrative stuff to do, then we’ll have lunch.’

  The ‘administrative stuff’ had taken them to one of the theatres and it had to have been fate that Kate had walked into the tableau below the viewing balcony. Even in a blue bandana and oversized blue scrubs she had looked beautiful to him, and his body had tightened just looking at her.

  Had she seen him when she’d glanced up?

  He couldn’t tell, although he could almost feel her concentration as she avoided looking up again...

  ‘Are you with me or off somewhere in that busy head of yours?’ his uncle asked as he led him into the admin lunch room.

  It was a question his uncle had often asked the child who’d been Angus, usually in the middle of a ‘little talk’ about the world and its ways. Angus had invariably stopped listening, his attention caught by a butterfly alighting on a flower, or a passing bus if they’d been in the city.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was diverted.’

  ‘By a woman, I hope, or thoughts of one. It’s time you were married.’

  ‘Aah!’

  It was an old conversation. His family had known and liked Michelle but although that was over, as far as this uncle was concerned, it was a man’s duty to get married and have children.

  But Angus had the perfect diversion for him.

  ‘I was actually wondering what it would be like working in a hospital if I left the army,’ he said, because this was another of his uncle’s favourite topics.

  ‘Well, I could put in a word for you at North Shore, or I’m sure there’d always be a job for you here,’ he said. ‘Actually, one of the doctors on our Specialist Disaster Response team has recently left, and you’d fit right in there.’

  Which led to talk of his trip out with the SDR and the development of his tent and the subject of marriage was forgotten.

  But the marriage idea stayed in his head, and it was only by reminding himself of the dangerous positions he’d been in in the past that he was able to banish it.

  He turned his thoughts to where to stay in Sydney. Harbour views, not too far from the city centre, close to Centennial Park for walks. He’d grown up in Balmain, near enough to the city to know it well, and although the army had taken him far and wide, Sydney would always be home to him.

  * * *

  Somehow, Kate got through the day. The apparition hadn’t helped but by the time she left work, on time for once, she’d convinced herself she’d been seeing things—memories of the night before sending false messages to her brain.

  But as she was leaving the hospital, the sight of a tall, well-built man leaning into the window of a rather posh car, and the skip of a heartbeat, suggested she hadn’t been mistaken.

  The car was leaving the executives’ car park.

  And for one, probably foolish, moment she allowed herself to imagine Angus had been at the hospital enquiring about a job—thinking of leaving the army.

  By the time he’d straightened and given the top of the car a tap, she’d remembered the tent and his passion for it—his determination to eventually provide the best possible facilities for teams sent into disaster areas.

  And to be there to see that they got it!

  Of course he wouldn’t leave the army...

  She sighed, remembering too that this was just for now...

  He turned as the car drove away, saw her and strode towards her.

  ‘Just found out my uncle—the doctor one—is one of your bosses. It’s hard to keep up with me moving around all the time and him being so busy. Last time I heard from him he was on the other side of the harbour. He’d heard I was around and asked me to lunch.’

  He’d put his arm around her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he spoke, causing such a riot of sensations in Kate’s body she barely made sense of the words.

  ‘Saw you in Theatre, too,’ he continued, steering her onto the footpath, his arm still clamped around her waist. ‘Wanted to wave but didn’t want to distract you.’
>
  Kate stopped, which pulled him up quite sharply. He looked down at her and smiled.

  ‘Talking too much?’ he asked. ‘I’m just so glad to see you, and I’ve been thinking about the fact we’ll have three whole days together.’

  She saw the gleam of excitement in his dark eyes and felt a shiver of anticipation.

  ‘You okay to leave tonight? It’s not too soon? Will it be all right with Alice?’

  ‘Tonight? We’re going tonight?’

  Was it too soon? Was she ready for this? Had she even said she’d go? And did she really want to spend three days with this man who, considered realistically, she barely knew?

  Except she did know him—knew he was great in a crisis, knew he was kind and considerate, knew, too, that he was honest, that this would be just what it was—something for now.

  And he was patient, too, she realised, for he was just standing there, waiting for her answer, not asking again or persuading her.

  But just looking at him her body throbbed with excitement.

  No, it wasn’t too soon and, yes, she was ready!

  So why not tonight?

  ‘Alice will be delighted,’ she told him, and they turned to walk again.

  But packing proved a more difficult task than talking about it. She dithered in her bedroom while Angus chatted to Alice as if he’d known her for ever, his ease with older people no doubt coming from growing up with his grandmother.

  Just stop thinking tangential thoughts and pack.

  But what?

  September in Sydney meant warm sunny days but cooler nights, and who knew when a westerly wind would blow in at any moment and turn the city into an ice-box.

  A very windy ice-box.

  She put in slacks, three summery tops, a jacket for the evenings, and would take a parka just in case the wind did come.

  But, oh, why was all her underwear so practical, so predictable? White bras and knickers, black bras and knickers, not a bit of lace or pretty ribbon anywhere.

  If they didn’t go tonight she could make a dash to Bondi Junction and...

  And tell Angus what?

  That you can’t go tonight because you don’t have pretty underwear? From what she was getting to know of the man, he’d insist on taking her to a lingerie shop first thing in the morning and probably make her parade in front of him for his approval.

  More for his amusement as he’d know she’d be embarrassed.

  She paused, cotton knickers in hand, as a thrill ran through her. Was this really happening? Was she about to take an enormous leap out of her self-imposed isolation—out of the safe little world she’d made for herself—into the arms of a man she barely knew?

  Except she did know him in ways it might take a lifetime for other people to know each other. The fraught hours when they’d hidden their own fears to care for the terrified tourists and even staff on the island had formed a bond between them that she knew, meeting him again, was still there.

  Damn it all, underwear was underwear, and she doubted she’d be standing around in it for long. He’d managed to get it off her very expertly the previous evening.

  She threw in the underwear, toiletries and make-up, a squashy hat and some good walking shoes, and was done.

  Quick shower and they could go, although Alice had probably already regaled him with all the mishaps of her youth and the disaster of her non-wedding!

  Night had fallen by the time they’d checked in at the hotel and reached their room. As the door closed behind the porter, Angus put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the windows.

  ‘It’s breathtaking,’ she whispered, awed by the spread of beauty before her. The twin trails of red and white lights as cars crossed the Harbour Bridge, the well-lit ferries carrying commuters home from work and bringing people back to play in the city, and closer, just beneath them, the city itself, neon lights pulsing and strobing, as if in time to the heartbeat of the city.

  Angus had raided the mini-bar and opened a half-bottle of champagne, handing her a glass as she stared in wonder at the view.

  ‘Just a glass now because we’ve a big night ahead of us,’ he said, but when he put his arm around her the hunger she’d felt earlier returned and as the light kiss he dropped on her lips became hard and demanding, she knew his plans for the evening would have to be delayed.

  * * *

  ‘We can’t go on like this for three days,’ she said some time later, sitting up in bed, finishing her warm and flat champagne. ‘I’ll be too exhausted to go back to work.’

  Angus was lying behind her, running one finger slowly down her spine, as if counting her vertebrae, making sure they were all there.

  ‘Angus?’ she said, thinking his finger might be moving in his sleep, but he’d reached the small of her back and flattened his hand against her skin, curling it around her waist and effortlessly easing her back down beside him so they lay face to face.

  She studied him, this man who had almost literally swept her off her feet. What was it about him? What made him different? Surely it had to be more than body chemistry.

  There was his kindness—she’d seen that with Mickey. And in the way he chatted to Alice, showing a genuine interest in her charity work.

  And his passion for his work—that ran deep within him.

  Then—

  Her brain stopped working as his finger traced her face, and the lips she’d been watching spread in a small, satisfied smile.

  ‘Don’t look so smug,’ she told him. ‘I’m here because I want to be, not because you’re some irresistible lover.’

  ‘Ah, but I am to you, aren’t I?’ he said, tracing her lips now and slowly awakening all the feelings that had led them to this position.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘It’s the why that’s got me puzzled.’

  He leant up on one elbow and leaned over to kiss her.

  ‘Don’t overthink it, just enjoy it.’ He sat up, all business now. ‘So, do we go out to eat or order room service?’

  ‘I love room service when I stay in hotels, especially at conferences and seminars,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s because you’ve become antisocial—I’ve been around the hospital and staff often enough to have picked that up—and someday you’ll tell me why but I think probably a little bit of fresh air would do us both good so let’s shower and get some clothes on and see what this wonderful city has to offer us in the way of a meal.’

  The shower took longer than expected but eventually they were dressed and out on the street, wandering hand in hand among the bustling streams of people who never seemed to leave city streets.

  ‘Ha!’ Angus suddenly declared, halting their aimless meander. ‘I wondered if it was still here. You like Moroccan food?’

  ‘Love it,’ Kate assured him. ‘It’s something I like to cook, so I’m sure I’ll find plenty of new dishes to try.’

  The restaurant was richly decorated with carpets, intricately carved panels and filmy curtains, draped to provide private spaces for the diners. Low, satin-covered sofas and huge cushions provided the seating and candles burned in ornate silver holders, sending a faint, musky scent into the air.

  ‘Have you been there, Morocco?’ Kate asked when they were seated.

  ‘Once—a flying visit. Unfortunately, I missed all the colour and splendour of the architecture and saw a lot of desert. Famine in the Western Sahara had brought a horde of refugees flooding across the border, many of them with diseases we rarely see, like malaria, cholera and Hep A. I was in Stockholm at the time, they do a lot of disaster response work, so I went with their team to do what we could to help those who were sick, but mainly to set up water purification plants.’

  Kate smiled and shook her head.

  ‘Stockholm and Morocco,’ she said. ‘Both sound equally exotic to me.’

  ‘But you co
uld travel—you get well paid. At least you could take holidays in some of these places.’

  Her smile faded as she realised just how limited her life had become.

  ‘I’ve just never thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose it was the thought of doing it alone—not having anyone to turn to, to remark on the beauty or wonder or something in particular and no one to share the memories with afterwards.’

  Angus hoped the frown he was feeling inside wasn’t showing on the outside. Admittedly, back on the island, he hadn’t known Kate well, but he was absolutely certain that that Kate would have at least considered foreign holidays. And she’d been quite happy—well, maybe not happy happy but content somehow—when she’d honeymooned alone...

  In fact, he remembered talking to her about far-off lands during the night they’d sat out the cyclone. Travel had definitely been in her future.

  So, what had happened that had made her turn in on herself, as if curling herself around some hidden hurt?

  Would he eventually find out?

  He couldn’t ask—at least, he didn’t want to ask. Deep inside he was hoping she’d trust him enough to tell him.

  Eventually?

  Except there wouldn’t be an eventually.

  Couldn’t be one. Not with the lifestyle he led, and would be leading for the foreseeable future.

  He shook away his thoughts, glad Kate had been diverted by the description of the dishes on the menu while he’d brooded. While he’d realised, with a definite shock, that the last thing he should be considering was an ‘eventually’ together!

  ‘Listen to this,’ she said, turning to him with a smile. ‘It sounds like an Indian biryani, which has layers of rice and meat, only this one has couscous in place of the rice and the meat has apricots and dates through it.’

  She read out the description and as he watched the animation in her face he—

  What?

  Forget it!

  This is for the here and now, remember. Tomorrow you could be anywhere.

  He ordered the dish she’d talked about, and distracted his wayward thoughts in a discussion with the wine waiter. A nice rosé should do the trick, they decided.