She thought about that, and seemed to find it wanting. ‘Are there any charges they can lay against Jerry? Other than the ones that are already outstanding?’

‘Who knows?’ Darcy said. ‘We certainly implied there were.’

‘We? Who’s we?’

‘Me and Sergeant Matheson.’

‘What on earth is this all to do with you?’ she demanded, and he smiled.

‘I’m a family doctor, Ally. I look for cures. Ever since yesterday I’ve been worrying about these people, thinking that their long-term trauma is going to be intense. They’ve been living together for years. They have no support. Split into separate units, I suspect they’d go the way of your mother.’ She winced and his voice gentled. ‘You know that’s right.’

‘I…I guess.’

‘Anyway…’ He still wasn’t sure how she was taking this but he had to continue. ‘While the councillors were talking about this-’

‘The councillors?’

‘Our town council consists of six people,’ he said. ‘Sergeant Matheson, Fred, Elaine, Myrtle, Hilda and me. You know them all. They certainly know you. The sergeant says he’s the only one who hasn’t had a massage yet and he wants the situation rectified.’

Her look of confusion deepened. ‘So what were they talking about? Besides massage.’

‘The farm, of course. And then you.’

‘Me?’

He wanted to hug her. She stood there looking like a waif, a bereft child, but…more. She was all woman, he thought. A complicated mix of baggage, a magnificent masseuse, a doctor, a loving daughter, a spitfire who’d go after Jerry with a gun if she had to. A beautiful, desirable woman.

Ally.

He had to stay focussed. For the moment he had to stay focussed on not loving Ally.

Impossible ask.

‘Ally, there’s a fisherman’s cottage down on the harbour,’ he told her. ‘Two up, two down. It belonged to Elspeth Murdoch who died last year and left it to be used by the council as they see fit. If we ever get funding we might set it up as a tourist information centre, but meanwhile it’s furnished, it’s lovely and it’s vacant. We thought of it when we were trying to figure out where we could relocate Jerry’s lot, but of course it isn’t big enough. But then we thought of you.’

‘I can’t afford to rent anything yet.’

‘That’s just it.’ He smiled, trying desperately to ease the tension in her eyes. ‘The council has decided it needs a caretaker. We’re offering it to your mother and to you.’

She stared, unbelieving. ‘Why?’

‘You feel badly about your mother,’ he told her, his eyes not leaving her face. ‘This town feels badly about you. There’s a lot of guilty consciences round here. There’s people who are whipping themselves that they didn’t guess it was Jerry Hatfield come back to the ridge. And there are people who believe they should have stood up to your grandfather all those years ago-and then to your father when he took you away from where you belong.’

‘But-’

‘Your mother will be welcomed home with all honour, Ally,’ he told her. ‘You know that.’

She looked dumbfounded.

‘What…what should I do?’ she asked, and she sounded so lost that he had to steel himself to stay still. But some things were impossible not to say.

‘You could let me kiss you,’ he told her.

And waited.

‘Kiss…’

‘I’m falling in love with you, Ally.’

Mistake. He watched her face slam closed, shuttered against something that hurt.

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I can’t…’ She took a deep breath and then slowly turned back to the sink and laid her dishcloth down. When she turned back to him her face was inscrutable. Blank as a clean slate.

‘You can’t buy another doctor for this town,’ she told him. ‘Not with your cottage. Not with you.’

He froze.

‘I’m not trying to buy another doctor.’

‘I’m not going back to medicine.’

‘You can’t help yourself,’ he said gently, gesturing through to the dimly lit bedroom. ‘Tonight…could you walk away?’

‘I must.’

‘Would your mother deny you the right to be a doctor?’

‘My mother denies me nothing. She never has.’

‘So she’d support-’

‘I don’t want to be a doctor,’ she told him, anger surging. ‘I’m a massage therapist. It works. I love it. I love making people feel good. I love helping.’

‘You helped tonight.’

‘And now you’re here and I can leave.’

‘You can’t walk away from what you are,’ he told her. ‘And you can’t walk away from me.’

Her breath drew in on an angry hiss. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He hesitated but it had to be said. ‘It seems crazy, I know. It seems way too sudden. But I just have to look at you-your beauty, your courage, your humour… Ally, I can’t help myself. I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you.’

Her face closed. He’d known it would. It was way too soon.

‘Well, I don’t love you,’ she snapped. ‘Why the hell would I? Men. I’ve had three of them in my life. My father, my grandfather and Jerry. Why would I possibly want more?’

‘You had a boyfriend when you passed your obstetric exam,’ he said, and her face stilled.

‘So I did. That was when I was trying to pretend I could be normal. I could put away the past and take control of the future. But it’s not going to happen. I’m happy now, and if you think I’m ever going to put my future in the control of a man-’

‘Ally, I don’t want to control you.’ Damn, why couldn’t he hug her? Why couldn’t he touch her? But her whole stance spoke of fear and he knew to move would be a disaster. ‘I don’t want to change you. If you want to be a massage therapist…’

‘I do.’

‘Then why would I ask you to be anything else? I love you just the way you are, Ally,’ he said softly. ‘How can I not?’

‘Right.’ Her lips tightened. ‘Fine. So what am I supposed to do here? Fall into your arms? Move into my grandfather’s house and play the doctor’s wife?’

‘Hey, Ally.’ He was startled almost into laughter. ‘I don’t think we’re going straight to the blue-rinse, bridge-playing, lording-it-over-the-town-as-the-doctor’s-wife scenario just yet.’

‘Don’t laugh at me.’

‘I’m not laughing at you. I could never laugh at you.’

‘Then why mock me?’

‘I’m not mocking you.’

There was a cough from the bedroom next door. Another. And then the sound of retching.

‘Marigold’s being sick again,’ Ally said, almost conversationally. ‘You’re needed.’

He glanced toward the bedroom but Betty was there and she was surely capable of dealing with a retching child. She hadn’t called him.

How could he leave Ally now, with so much left unsaid?

‘I need you,’ he told her.

‘You need a medical partner. I’m not it.’

‘I need you.’

‘Right.’ Her voice was an angry jeer. ‘You’ve known me for how long?’

‘Long enough.’

‘Leave it.’ She stared at him for a moment-almost desperately-and he took a step toward her.

‘Darcy, don’t.’

He hesitated, but he couldn’t let her go. Not like this. He had to make her see what he was feeling. That he was a human-not some controlling male figure out for what he could get.

Ally moved then, trying to brush past him. His hands reached for her and he touched her face. Gently. With no force. If she wanted to ignore him, she could. She could keep going.

She could leave.

But she paused.

There was a moment’s stillness.

‘Don’t turn me into an ogre, Ally,’ he whispered. ‘I love you. I love you and I’ll do whatever I have to do. I’ll wait for however long it takes.’

And then, before she could move, before she could react, he bent his head and he kissed her.

He kissed her gently. Lightly. It was a feather touch of lips against lips.

And it was unbelievable. Unbelievably sweet. Unbelievably wonderful.

He’d known she’d feel like this, he thought as he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her gently against him.

He loved her.

The knowledge was intensifying by the minute. The certainty. It was like some great triumphant shout.

Or it was some sweet insidious whisper, a warmth of loving that embraced his heart. That seeped from her lips to his and filled his heart with something he’d hardly known he’d been missing.

Warmth meeting warmth.

Need meeting need.

Dear heaven, he loved her. His mouth moved on hers and he felt her respond. Her lips gently parted and her hands moved up to touch his face.

Ally.

Here was his home, he thought with sudden absolute surety. Here was his peace.

Ally.

The kiss couldn’t last. It couldn’t. There was a medical imperative-a sick child-and they both knew it. Ally pulled back, but as she did so he saw her eyes looked dazed. Her fingers lifted to touch her lips where his had pressed, and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before.

There was a long silence. Things were changing. There was a conversation here, unsaid but real for all that.

A man and a woman and a sudden intense knowledge that things could never be the same again.

His heart was hers and she knew it. But it terrified her. He could see the terror.

‘I don’t… I can’t…’ she managed, and it was almost unbearable not to haul her into his arms and kiss away the dread.

But there was a soft call from the bedroom. ‘Dr Rochester?’ Betty was calling, and he could hear her reluctance. Whether or not she’d guessed what was happening out here, she needed him.

The medical imperative. He had to go.

‘Ally, you can,’ he said softly. ‘Trust me. You can. We both can.’ And then with a last, long, reluctant look he turned away-and it was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.

Marigold was waiting. Medicine was waiting.

Before he’d reached the bedroom door she was gone.

She walked out into the night, and had slammed the door closed behind her.