by Lucy Clark
Rolling his eyes, he tossed the phone onto the bed and decided it was probably better for him to go to the hospital and throw himself into work. There was always something to do at the hospital and even though he’d managed to clear some time this morning so he could lease a car and try and find a place to live, if necessary he could put it off a little longer. So long as he could control his thoughts and not think about Mackenzie, he’d be fine.
He went back inside and put some of the work he’d managed to concentrate on last night into his briefcase in preparation for the day. Mackenzie had somehow managed to commandeer his thoughts quite often but now he needed to find his professionalism from somewhere and start to focus on what needed to be done.
He managed to get through his morning shower and order some breakfast before his thoughts returned to her. He’d checked his phone and found he had one missed call. It was Mackenzie’s number. Almost like a love-struck teen, he checked his messages, eager to hear her voice once more.
‘Hi…er…John. Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to check everything was…you know…OK. If you want to talk, I’m here. Sorry again for…well… Anyway, call me if you want to. Bye.’
‘To listen to this message again, please press one,’ said the automated voice of the telephone company.
John pressed one and slowly exhaled. ‘Mackenzie.’ He breathed her name into the silent room, hating himself for causing her consternation. She was kind, generous, thoughtful and clearly devoted to Ruthie. He knew her marriage hadn’t been all that happy when her husband had died, Mackenzie having confessed to him as she’d cried on his shoulder that she was sure Warick had been having affairs.
It wasn’t like him to speak ill of the dead but what an idiot her husband had been. John knew if he were married to Mackenzie, he would spend all his days trying to make their lives as happy and as fulfilled as possible. He would accept her love as the most precious gift and he’d give her all of his in return. He quickly gave himself a mental shake, clearing such dangerous thoughts.
As the voice message ended for the second time, John disconnected the call and lay back on the bed. He should call her back. Apologise for his behaviour. But what would he say after that? That he’d walked out because her daughter was gorgeous and alive? While his daughter had been cruelly taken from him? That being around her and Ruthie reminded him of just how much he’d lost? If he confessed as much, like most women, Mackenzie would probably want to discuss it all in detail, and he simply wasn’t in the mood to talk about Mune-hie or Jacqueline.
He picked up his phone and looked at it, knowing that good manners dictated he should return her call, but right now he wasn’t too concerned with manners, so when his phone rang again he simply stared at the display.
The caller ID was the same number as his previously missed call. Mackenzie’s number. He looked at the digits illuminated on the screen and realised his mouth had gone dry. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk to her, to go into detail, to pour more lemon juice into his old wounds. Clenching his jaw, he ignored the call, knowing it would again go through to voice mail.
Instead, he shoved the phone into his pocket and started packing his briefcase. Work would see him through. It always had. He had patients to see on the wards, mounds of paperwork to wade through and departmental-sponsored research projects to figure out. The last thing he needed was to talk about his emotions.
John headed to the hospital and managed to do a quick ward round, pleased with the progress of his patients, without bumping into Mackenzie. He’d even asked the ward sister if Dr Fawles had been in this morning.
‘Not yet, John, but we’re expecting her soon.’
Relieved he’d missed bumping into her, still unsure what he was supposed to say to her, especially as he felt uncomfortable and embarrassed by his behaviour, John headed to his office with a couple of casenotes. As he walked, he flicked open the top folder and skimmed the patient’s notes. It wasn’t until he rounded a corner, not looking where he was going, that he realised that reading and walking weren’t the best of companions.
‘Whoa!’
John collided with someone, casenotes being knocked out of his hands, loose pages slipping from the file and falling to the floor. It wasn’t until he’d automatically mumbled an apology, crouching down to gather up the mess, that he looked up to see just exactly who he’d bumped in to.
‘Mackenzie!’
‘John!’
‘Er…’ He frowned as he realised there were more sets of casenotes on the floor than he’d been carrying.
‘Clumsy of me,’ she instantly offered. ‘I should know better than to read and walk, especially around this place.’ Her smile was sweet, charming, and John felt the full effect in his gut.
‘I think we’re both to blame. Why don’t you come to my office and we can sort out which bit of paper belongs with which set of casenotes?’
‘Good idea.’
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as they walked along and Mackenzie was thankful the orthopaedic administration building wasn’t too far from where they were. She smiled at the admin staff as she followed him into his office.
‘Probably best if we don’t put them on my desk. It’s still too messy.’
‘Good idea. The carpet will be fine,’ she replied, and immediately sat down in the middle of his office floor, crossing her legs and spreading the files out, picking up the first of the loose sheets. ‘Perhaps one day we will have a paperless office,’ she remarked, pleased when he joined her on the floor. ‘But it isn’t today. Here. I think this blood-test result belongs to one of your patients.’
They sat on his office floor, sorting things out, and within a few minutes everything was shipshape again yet John found he was in no rush to get to his feet. Now that she was in front of him, his manners came to the fore and he knew he needed to apologise for his behaviour the previous night.
‘Listen, Mackenzie. About last night.’
‘It’s fine,’ she interrupted. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me and I don’t want you to think I was presumptuous before, leaving you with two voice-mail messages. Sorry about that.’ Her words had tumbled out so fast, almost tripping over each other.
‘I didn’t think you were being presumptuous. I appreciated hearing from you.’
‘You did? Well…um…OK, then. Just…glad to know you’re…well…you know…OK.’ Why on earth was she blathering on like a complete twit? Mackenzie closed her eyes and shook her head. Sitting here with him, crossed-legged in the middle of his office floor, wasn’t at all how she’d imagined their next meeting.
Her heart rate had increased and her throat had gone dry. What was it about this man that drove her completely ga-ga just from being close to him? Honestly, she was behaving like a hormonal teenager! She sighed, only then realising that neither of them had spoken for at least ten seconds.
Silence hung in the air between them and, starting to feel self-conscious and a little uncomfortable, Mackenzie racked her brains for something else to say. She wanted to ask him why, exactly, he’d bolted from her house but at the same time she didn’t want to overstep the mark of this new friendship they were hopefully building. The fact that he’d gazed longingly into her eyes as though he’d like nothing more than to kiss her senseless meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.
‘Er…Ruthie get off to school OK?’ he asked, sounding as though he, too, was struggling to find a topic of conversation. He certainly seemed far more calm than he’d been when he’d rushed from her house.
‘Yes. Yes. Friday mornings are relatively easy so we were able to take our time.’
‘There are other mornings that are harder?’
‘Yes. Ruthie has a violin lesson on Tuesday mornings before school and an extra reading class on Thursday mornings.’ Talking about Ruthie was a safe topic and Mackenzie slowly began to relax a little, enjoying the sound of his voice as the deep resonance of his baritone washed over her.
‘Violin lessons?’ He
grinned, imagining the scratchy, off-pitch sounds of a five-year-old playing a violin.
‘It bleeds the ears but she enjoys it.’
John chuckled and Mackenzie instantly smiled. She’d managed to get Ruthie organised, drop her at school and have a shower. Thank goodness Ruthie had been content with her explanation last night when John had suddenly disappeared.
‘He’s a doctor, Ruthie. Remember?’
‘Oh, yeah. Always working. Always busy. I get it.’ She’d sung some of the words and wiggled her hips with a bit of attitude as she’d spoken, causing her mother to smile.
‘So…’ John continued a moment or two later, as though he was trying his best to ensure there weren’t any more awkward silences between them. ‘What happens when you’re stuck at the hospital with an emergency? Who looks after Ruthie?’
‘I have a good network of people around me more than willing to help out but, thankfully, I only work one on-call shift once every three months. It just makes it easier all round.’
‘You always were a strong woman. I knew that from the moment I met you.’
‘Really?’
‘You’d managed to somehow get out of the car, move away from danger and find a safe place to rest. Not many women are that strong, Mackenzie. Not many women are that clear-headed in a crisis.’
‘But I’m a trained doctor.’
‘That was definitely to your advantage but over the years and throughout all my travels I’ve come across so many different people, in different circumstances and different levels of training, and yet none have affected or impressed me with their inner strength as much as you did during the time we spent together.’
Mackenzie was silent as he spoke, unable to believe he was saying such wonderful things. Tears of unbelievable happiness started to prick behind her eyes and she swallowed over the lump in her throat.
‘Mackenzie?’
‘Yes?’ Her voice was soft.
‘Are you…all right?’
‘It’s…um…been a very long time since someone told me they believed in me. Coming from a foster-home situation, always being put down, raised in a negative atmosphere and then marrying the wrong man doesn’t do a lot for a person’s confidence.’
‘The wrong man? You mean Warick?’
‘Of course, Warick.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve hardly had the time to finish my orthopaedic training and raise a daughter, let alone find another man, get married and divorced in five years.’
‘Well, I don’t know, Hollywood stars do it all the time,’ he said lightly, and was pleased when she chuckled.
‘Fair point.’
‘So I take it your suspicions were confirmed? Was he having an affair?’
She laughed without humour. ‘Judging by the four or so pretty paralegals who turned up at his funeral, all far more distraught than myself, I’d say that’s a yes.’
‘Four?’
‘They were all quite open in their grief. Turns out Warick had never been faithful. Not even at the start of our marriage. I was merely a pretty possession he had to have. Brains and beauty. The perfect companion to help him rise in the legal profession.’ She sighed. ‘So you can see how sometimes, when people actually give me compliments and offer support, it’s difficult for me to accept.’
‘Did you believe me five years ago?’
‘Yes, and that belief has helped me tremendously throughout the time since. I can’t thank you enough, John. I don’t think you have any idea just how much of an impact you’ve had on my life. You were there when I needed you most, and while I would have liked to stay in contact, to at least give you updates on Ruthie, I also accepted that you were my knight in shining armour, only there to rescue me when my need had been the greatest.’
It was probably the sweetest and most sincere thing anyone had ever said to him. ‘It was my pleasure.’ When he spoke, he was surprised to find his voice was a little husky. He cleared his throat and glanced away for a moment, sure that if he stared into her mesmerising eyes for much longer he wasn’t going to be held responsible for his actions.
Mackenzie breathed in deeply, astonished to find a man who really was in touch with his feelings. Then again, he’d told her he’d been raised by older sisters so what did she expect? ‘Anyway, before we turn this into the Mackenzie and John mutual admiration society, I’d better get going.’ She tapped the casenotes in front of her as though to indicate she had work to do.
She stood up, gathering the notes in her arms, and smiled at him. ‘I guess I’ll see you in clinic this afternoon?’
John stood, too, leaving his sets of casenotes where they were. When he didn’t immediately answer her, she shrugged one shoulder and turned towards the door. ‘Actually…’
She stopped when he spoke and looked at him over her shoulder.
‘Er…would you care to join me this morning? If you’re free? I…er…have to lease a car and find somewhere to live and your knowledge of the local area would be a vast help.’
‘Oh!’ Mackenzie was clearly surprised at his request but couldn’t help the wide and happy smile that spread across her lips. Now was her chance to give just a little bit of help back to John, to repay him for what he’d done for her in the past. Plus, how could she resist when he was all she could think about. John Watson was back in her life…and this time for much longer than a day and a half. John Watson. Her knight in shining armour. Her John. The man who had believed in her.
‘Or if you’d rather not…’ he said quickly, when she didn’t give a reply.
‘I’d love to help you, if that’s all right.’
John grinned from ear to ear. ‘All right. So…’
‘Meet you out the front in fifteen minutes?’
‘Excellent.’ He nodded, unable to believe how happy he felt at getting to spend the morning with Mackenzie. Moving forward with your life when you’d vowed to live in limbo wasn’t easy but he also knew that spending time with Mackenzie would make him happy, and surely he deserved just a little bit of happiness?
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WELL THAT WAS fairly easy,’ John remarked ninety minutes later as he and Mackenzie walked towards a nearby coffee shop.
‘What? Hiring the car or stopping off to go crazy at the shopping centre? I think you bought something from every department.’
‘Not the pet section,’ he countered as they chose an alfresco table so they could sit in the sunshine. ‘Yet.’ He grinned at her as the waitress came and took their order.
‘Are you planning on getting a pet?’
John shrugged. ‘Why not?’
‘Mr I-don’t-like-to-put-down-roots?’ She raised a sceptical eyebrow.
‘I was thinking a nice goldfish in a bowl might do the trick.’
Mackenzie grinned, enjoying herself far more than she would have thought. After they’d left the hospital, Mackenzie laughing as he’d made a show of folding himself into her small car, she’d driven him to a car-hire office where, within the space of twenty minutes, he had himself a ‘decent’ car, as he’d termed it.
‘At least I can drive without having to unhook my knees from my ears,’ he’d teased. Next, he’d suggested heading to a shopping centre where he’d bought up big in sheets and towels, kitchen supplies and even some cushions, ‘For when I hire some furniture,’ he’d told her. ‘After I find a place to live.’
And now, as he talked about getting a goldfish, Mackenzie had to put a clamp on her rising excitement at having John around and close by. His exit from her life, which had been as sudden as his entrance, had left her wondering for years what had happened to him. Several times, usually on the days when she simply hadn’t been able to cope with her crazy, hectic world, she’d run searches on his name on the internet, but had only received information on research papers he’d co-authored. She’d read them all, wondering if their paths would ever cross again.
He was also, she’d belatedly realised, the man she now measured all others against. He’d been supportive, caring and thoughtfu
l when she’d needed him most, and after experiencing such emotions she’d vowed never to settle for anything less. Then there had been the times when she’d woken up from a wonderful, beautiful, relaxing dream only to realise he’d been the star in all her fantasies. Her John. Her secret crush.
What worried her now, sitting across a café table from him and smiling back at him, was whether she’d built him up so much in her mind that the real John wouldn’t live up to her expectations. She pushed those thoughts aside and decided to simply enjoy spending time with him, helping him. She shook her head, her smile increasing. ‘A goldfish isn’t a pet, you ninny.’
John fixed her with a disbelieving stare. ‘I think there are a lot of aquariumists out there who would disagree with you,’ he said, waving one arm in the direction of the people walking down the street in front of them.
Mackenzie laughed. ‘There’s no such word as aquariumists.’
‘Sure there is. I just made it up.’
‘You can’t just make up words.’
‘Why not?’
She thought about this for a moment. ‘Well, because…’ She stopped and shrugged. ‘I don’t know, you just can’t because I guess nobody would know what you’re talking about.’
John leaned forward in his chair and winked at her. ‘Exactly. Keep people guessing.’
‘They’ll think you’ve gone mad, which, I might point out, for the director of a hospital department might not be the best tack to take.’
‘Worried I might get locked away in the psychiatric wards?’
‘If you did, I’d visit you.’
John laughed. ‘Good to know.’ He sat looking into her mesmerising green eyes, her sunglasses on her head keeping her loose blonde locks back from her smiling face. Good heavens, the woman was stunning, and the more time he spent with her, the more warning signals went off in the back of his mind.
