Marion Lennox - To the Doctor: A Daughter

She was tired. Right, that was it. She was tired. ‘Yes.’ It sounded pathetic. She sounded pathetic.

‘We’ll talk in the morning.’

‘Yes.’ Maybe in the morning she’d have herself together. She’d have her armour back in place.

But she so wanted to kiss him.

‘You’d better go…’

‘Mmm.’ But he didn’t. His hands were still holding her face. He gazed down at her for a long, long minute and then very slowly he lowered his mouth onto hers.

She should refuse. She should push him away-shove-do anything but let herself sink into that kiss.

But she was no longer capable of fighting. She was no longer capable of pushing him away. Because suddenly there was nothing in this world except Nate. Nate holding her, Nate’s eyes searching hers, Nate’s mouth pressing against hers… Her brain told her to push this man away but her brain wasn’t the major force any more.

So what was? She didn’t know. All she knew was that it was a force as strong as life itself. Man meeting woman and merging with passion and with love. She wanted to push him away but her arms wouldn’t work. Nothing worked. Only the need of him-the want.

The love.

She gave a tiny moan and tried again to break away but it must have felt like encouragement to the man who’d gathered her in his arms. He was deepening the kiss. Searching her mouth. Searching her soul…

He felt so good. So right. The only thing in her world was Nate. His hands, his mouth and his body.

Nate.

Her body was aching for him. Her lips-her breasts-her thighs. In his arms the dangers of the day faded to nothing. Here was her life. Here was her home.

He’d said he loved her!

She should fight but was no longer capable of fighting. For this one wonderful interlude she abandoned herself to his kiss. Glorying in the fact that she could be loved. She, Gemma…

There was a knock on the door.

Hell!

They pulled apart. Somehow they pulled apart-just. Inches only. Gemma looked up at the man beside her, and her face was dazed with confusion.

And Nate’s expression mirrored hers.

But the knocking continued. ‘Yes?’ Nate’s voice was distant, as if the outside world had nothing to do with what was happening here.

But the outside world was intent on intrusion. Jane was peering around the door and her expression was rueful. It was as if she knew what she’d interrupted and she hated doing it.

‘Gemma?’

‘Mmm.’ Gemma was still looking at Nate.

‘There’s a man outside who wants to see you,’ she said, and her voice was tinged with uncertainty. ‘Gemma, he says he’s your husband.’

WHAT the hell…?

Nate made his way back to the wards, his head spinning. He’d only had a glimpse of the man waiting to see Gemma-a big man in his early thirties, smoothly dressed and immaculately groomed. He was wearing a three-piece suit, Italian cut and expensive. Nate hadn’t liked what he’d seen-but he wasn’t in the mood for liking.

Gemma’s husband.

She hadn’t said she was still married.

Or had she?

Maybe he’d just assumed it was over. He’d never thought there could possibly be a man in the wings waiting to claim her.

‘Is something wrong?’ He started as Graham’s hand came down on his shoulder and he wheeled to face the older man. He didn’t want to face anyone-especially not someone whose eyes saw as much as Graham’s did.

‘No.’

But Graham did see. Sort of. He knew enough to sense that something was troubling Nate. Something more than the tragedy of the afternoon. And what he had to ask wouldn’t make things easier. ‘They’ve brought the pilot in. You want to get this over with?’

Great. A post-mortem. Just what he needed to finish off a perfect day.

‘Hell.’

‘I can do it myself.’

He collected himself at that. Post-mortems in this community were the devil. Everyone knew everyone-there was no such thing as an autopsy on a stranger.

‘If you’re really cut up we could send him to Blairglen,’ Graham suggested. ‘But Olive…’

Hector’s wife. Olive.

‘She’d like him to stay here,’ Graham said softly. He was watching Nate’s face, trying to figure out what was troubling him. Was it this useless death-or something more?

Something more, he decided. Gemma?

‘Let’s do it,’ Nate snapped before Graham could think further. ‘Hell. I don’t want to do this.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘Then let’s get it over with.’

The post-mortem was bad enough. The interview with Olive afterwards was worse.

‘The fool.’ She was so angry she was nearly spitting. Grief would come later, Nate knew, but for now all she could see was the waste. ‘That damned boundary dispute. It consumed him. They said he was trying to spook Ian’s cows when he flew into power lines. The fool. Oh, the damned fool…’

‘He died instantly,’ Nate told her, knowing that she’d hear and that later it would provide a modicum of comfort.

‘You think I care?’

‘I think you care,’ he said gently, and propelled her into a chair.

‘The damned feud…and he’s left me for it.’

‘I’m sure he didn’t mean-’

‘He didn’t mean to kill himself, but he meant nothing but mischief. And I loved him.’ She raised tear-drenched eyes to Nate and gulped back a body-wrenching sob. ‘I loved him. What am I going to do now?’

And that was the whole trouble, Nate thought as he caught up with the medical needs of the little community-the firefighter who’d ripped his leg on a piece of roofing iron, the dead pilot’s mother needing tranquillisers to get her through the first awful spasm of grief, Ian needing more painkillers and reassurance, and his wife and children to counsel.

The phrase kept running over and over in his head. I loved him. What am I going to do now?

He changed the one word.

I loved her. What am I going to do now?

Then he realised he had the tense wrong.

I love her.

How had he got himself into this mess? He’d never planned to fall in love. He didn’t know how on earth it had happened.

At nine o’clock Sandra Jefferson returned with a very sleepy-and very contented-Cady. ‘They’ve had a wonderful time,’ she told him. ‘Any time you want Cady looked after, feel free to call on me. He and Milly get on so well-it’s just lovely.’

It was lovely.

What would happen now? Nate wondered as he took Cady’s sugar levels and gave him his nightly dose of insulin. He really was the best kid-he didn’t protest at all. He’d adjusted very easily to his new regime.

The thought of losing him was almost as wrenching as the thought of losing Gemma.

Hell, what was happening to him? Had he fallen for Cady as well as Gemma? What was it?

Why should he care?

But he did. Would Cady return to the city? And what on earth was happening with Gemma? Why had she decided to stay in the first place if she had a husband?

With Cady snuggled up fast asleep, Nate checked his daughter and found she was also sleeping and then he thought, What now? Should he go back to Gemma’s bedroom?

No. Because how on earth could he look at her without emotion threatening to overwhelm him?

Graham came into the kitchen and his face was impassive.

‘There’s a bloke out there wants to see you.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ve put him in your waiting room. You want me to come with you?’

‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘He says he’s Cady’s father.’

Silence. Then… ‘Cady’s father,’ Nate said cautiously. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘That’s what he says’

‘Big bloke? Expensive suit?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘But I thought…’

‘You thought what?’

‘If he’s the man who was here earlier, he said that he’s Gemma’s husband.’

‘So?’ Then Graham thought it through and saw what Nate was confused about. ‘But Cady is Fiona’s kid.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then Cady can’t be Gemma’s husband’s kid? Can he? Am I missing something here?’

Nate shook his head. ‘Not that I can see. I’m as confused as you are.’

‘The plot gets more convoluted by the minute.’ Graham looked bemused. And also concerned. ‘I suppose the man could have formally adopted Cady. He might have if he was…if he is married to Gemma.’

First impressions were often correct and this one was spot on. Nate had looked at the man as he’d waited outside Gemma’s room and he hadn’t liked what he’d seen and he didn’t like what he saw when he walked back into his waiting room.

‘You wanted to see me?’

‘You’re Nate Ethan?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re looking after my wife and my kid?’

Gemma and Cady.

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’m here to tell you that I’m taking them back to Sydney. Tomorrow.’

‘Do they want to go back to Sydney?’ Somehow Nate kept his voice neutral-calm in the face of belligerence.

‘Of course they want to come.’

‘I’m sorry but they’ve been here for two weeks and you’ve hardly been mentioned.’

‘But I have been mentioned.’

He couldn’t deny it. ‘Yes.’

‘Well, there you go, then. They’ve had their little holiday. Now it’s time to get back to work.’

Nate hesitated, not sure where to take it. He didn’t like what was happening-and he didn’t understand.

‘Did Gemma tell you that Cady’s been diagnosed as a diabetic?’

‘Yeah. That’s got nothing to do with me. It’s her business.’

‘He needs constant medical supervision.’

‘He goes to a hospital crèche. He’ll get supervision there.’

‘But Gemma’s lost her job at the hospital.’

‘She’ll get another job,’ he said easily, with the assurance of someone who knew they were right. ‘She’s an anaesthetist. They’re in demand.’

The man sounded placid about it and things were sounding more and more out of kilter.