CHAPTER THREE

      THE CORAL CUTS on Max’s legs were treated by his about-to-be son-in-law. Keanu, the island doctor Max’s daughter was about to marry, greeted him with overwhelming relief, but was now insisting Max submit to his care.

      It seemed Sam, the island’s chief medical officer, had had to fly out that morning, transporting an urgent case to the mainland. ‘We’re always short on medical staff,’ Keanu told him, ‘so you’re stuck with me. But I think we can get away with no stitches. Now, anaesthetic?’

      ‘The last thing I need is a general anaesthetic,’ Max growled. ‘And no blocks. I’ve wasted enough of my time here. I don’t intend to lie round, waiting for anaesthetic to wear off. Keanu, leave it. I can clean them myself.’

      ‘So who’ll explain to Caroline that you can’t give her away because your legs are infected?’ Keanu demanded. ‘Not me. You’ll let me clean them properly.’

      So he had no choice. He lay back and thought about biting bullets as Keanu cleaned, disinfected and dressed his cuts.

      Thankfully the cuts were on his legs and not his face, he thought. He might still manage to look okay at Caroline’s wedding.

      ‘You have no idea how relieved she’ll be when she finds you’re here,’ Keanu told him as he worked. ‘She’s been out at a clinic at Atangi but she’s due back any time now. Our wedding plans are all in order and now she has her dad. We were starting to think we’d have to send Bugsy down the aisle in your place.’

      ‘Bugsy...’

      ‘The dog,’ Keanu said briefly, inspecting a graze that almost qualified as a cut. ‘This one’s nasty. Hold your breath for a bit, there’s a bit of muck stuck in here.’

      Max held his breath. Maybe an anaesthetic wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

      ‘Dog,’ he said at last when he could concentrate on anything other than pain.

      ‘Bugsy, the golden retriever. He’s responsible for us finding you so fast. Hettie left him on the beach. Normally Bugsy would loll around, waiting for her to come out of the water, or go for a swim himself, but he must have figured something was wrong. He came haring up to the hospital, soaking wet. We were already worried about Sefina and Joni. Sefina had discharged herself but we knew she couldn’t go home, so when Bugsy appeared looking desperate, running back and forth to the beginning of the path to Sunset Beach, and we couldn’t find Hettie, we put two and two together and figured we needed to investigate.’

      ‘You let Sefina discharge herself?’

      ‘Junior nurse,’ Keanu said grimly. ‘But it wasn’t her fault. Short of holding Sefina by force, which was impossible, there wasn’t a lot she could do when Sefina decided to leave. She let us know as soon as she could, and then Bugsy arrived.’ He hesitated. ‘Bugsy’s a shared dog, devoted to all of us. He officially belongs to one of our fly in, fly out doctors, but Maddie’s on maternity leave right now so Bugsy’s main caregiver is Hettie.’

      ‘Hettie has...no one else?’

      Keanu cast him a sharp look. ‘Hettie has everyone on the island.’

      ‘Is that a warning?’

      There was a moment’s silence, and then Keanu gave a reluctant shrug. ‘I know you’re not Ian,’ he conceded. ‘I need to keep reminding the islanders.’

      ‘Meaning they think if I was Ian I couldn’t be trusted with anything in a skirt.’

      ‘Ian couldn’t be trusted with anything at all,’ Keanu said bluntly. ‘But he was your brother and Hettie tells me he’s dead. I’m sorry.’

      ‘Are you? Will anyone on this island be sorry?’

      ‘No,’ Keanu admitted bluntly. ‘Maybe Sefina might have mourned him, but now...’ He shrugged again, and then went back to focussing on Max’s knee. ‘Maybe a stitch here...’

      ‘Steri-Strips,’ Max growled. ‘A scar or two won’t hurt.’

      ‘You can always cover it with pantyhose,’ Keanu said, and grinned. ‘It’s good to have you home, Max. You’ve done so much for the island.’ And then he glanced up as the door opened a crack. ‘Hettie. Come in. That is, if Dr Lockhart doesn’t mind you seeing his bare legs.’

      ‘I saw a lot more than his legs out in the water,’ Hettie retorted. ‘And there’s nothing our Dr Lockhart has that I haven’t seen a thousand times before.’

      ‘Shall we let the lady in?’ Keanu asked.

      And Max thought, What the heck? It was true, Hettie was a professional. Right now, he was a patient, she was a nurse. There was no reason he should feel odd at the idea of her seeing him dressed in a hospital gown with bare legs.

      ‘Sure,’ he growled, and Hettie popped in, smiling. It was a professional smile, he thought, just right, nurse greeting patient. She was in nurse’s uniform, blue pants and baggy blue top. Her curls were caught back in a simple ponytail.

      She looked younger than she’d looked on the atoll, he thought, and then he thought... She looked lovely?

      She wasn’t beautiful in the classical sense, he conceded. Her nose was too snub, her cheeks were strong-boned, and her mouth was maybe too generous to be termed lovely.

      She was wearing no make-up.

      He still thought she looked beautiful.

      ‘How’s Joni?’ Keanu asked, before Max could form the same question, and Hettie smiled, albeit sadly.

      ‘Clean and dry and fast asleep in the kids’ ward. He’s the only occupant, now that any kids with minor injuries after the storm have gone home. I left Bugsy asleep beside his cot.’

      ‘The dog?’ Max stared. What sort of a hospital let dogs stay in the children’s ward?

      ‘We have monitors,’ Hettie told him. ‘The moment Joni stirs I’ll be in there, but the first thing he’ll see when he wakes will be Bugsy. Bugsy’s a friend, and Joni...well, Joni needs all the friends he can get.’

      ‘What will you do with him?’ Keanu asked. Keanu was still cleaning. Hettie had moved automatically to assist, handing swabs, organising disinfectant. They were both focussed on Max’s legs, which was disconcerting, to say the least.

      The question hung and suddenly Max realised Keanu was talking to him.

      What will you do with him?

      ‘He’s not mine to do anything with,’ Max growled, and Keanu raised his brows.

      ‘That’s not what the islanders think.’

      ‘They’ll think he’s yours,’ Hettie said. ‘I told you. He’s your brother’s child, your brother’s dead, therefore he’s your family. You don’t want him?’

      ‘Why would I want him?’

      ‘Goodness knows,’ Keanu said, and kept on working. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to be talking to two heads bent over his legs—plus talking about a child he’d only just learned existed. ‘Family dynasty or something?’ Keanu suggested. ‘He is a Lockhart.’