Sarah Morgan Summer Collection. Sarah Morgan
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stared after her, feeling the frustration rise inside him.
Why now?
Why her and why now?
He lifted a hand to the knot of his tie and loosened it with a vicious jerk as he cursed softly.
He’d hurt her feelings. She thought he’d rejected her, and in a way he had, but only because he wasn’t in a position to do anything else.
He turned and stared out of the window, watching the first threatening clouds appear in the sky.
He could tell her the truth, of course. He could tell her who he was and why he was there.
But he wasn’t able to do that yet.
He wasn’t ready.
There were still so many things that he didn’t understand and he needed time to work out the answers to all the questions he had. Then, maybe then, he could do something about Kyla MacNeil.
Soon.
She felt such a fool.
Kyla slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, stealing a glance at the low black sports car parked next to her. It was sleek, sophisticated and exclusive. Like its owner, she thought sadly as she started her own car and pulled out of the medical centre car park.
Ethan Walker would never fit into a place like this and he’d never be interested in a woman like her.
She frowned slightly as she analysed her own thoughts. Pathetic, she decided crossly, changing gear with rather more force than was necessary. She was being completely pathetic and selling herself short. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for him, because she was. It was just that some relationships just weren’t meant to happen, and this was obviously one of those. Yes, there was chemistry. Amazing chemistry. But their lives were different. They appreciated different things. They were just—different.
He drove a flashy sports car, he wore a suit to work—a suit that she guessed had probably cost more than two months of her salary.
And while there was no doubt that he was an excellent doctor and good with the patients, it was also true that he held himself apart. He was—she searched for the word—aloof? Sometimes when he joined them at Logan’s for supper, she caught him watching them from the edges, almost as if he were studying them. But was that really so surprising?
She thought of the little he’d told her about his childhood. About his parents who had divorced. About how they hadn’t been interested in him.
What must he make of her big, noisy, involved family? Was it surprising that he found them worth studying? He probably found them completely perplexing.
Kyla gave a sigh and decided to call in on Doug and Leslie. They needed the support and it would stop her dwelling on her own problems.
She was going to stop wanting Ethan, she decided as she pressed her foot to the accelerator and sped down the country road that led inland to the McDonalds’ house.
She was going to stop watching from the window when he ran on the beach in the early mornings, she was going to stop finding excuses to go into his surgery to talk to him and she was going to stop dreaming about that kiss.
Everyone made mistakes, of course they did. But never let it be said that she didn’t learn from hers.
Move on, Kyla.
She pulled up outside the McDonald house and walked to the front door without bothering to lock her car.
‘Anyone home?’ The front door was open and she pushed it open and stuck her head through. ‘Hello?’
Leslie walked out of the kitchen. ‘Come on in, Nurse MacNeil,’ she said briskly, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Your patient is just sitting in the garden but he’s been for a walk this afternoon, just like they said. Just a short one. Up and down the garden. The kettle’s hot if I can tempt you to a cup of tea.’
‘Fantastic,’ Kyla said, following her into the kitchen. ‘Lunch feels like nothing more than a distant memory.’
Leslie gave a cluck of disapproval. ‘You all work too hard in that surgery, but we’re grateful for it. I certainly don’t know where we’d all be without you.’ She hesitated. ‘Doug and I owe you so much—and that new doctor, too. The hospital was very impressed with the treatment Doug had with you. They said that you probably saved his life.’
‘We did our job, Leslie,’ Kyla said gently, ‘and you don’t owe us anything. It’s just good that Ben brought Doug to us so quickly.’
Leslie nodded. ‘Ben’s a good man, no doubt about that. And now he’s short-staffed at the pub, of course.’
‘Ben will cope.’ Kyla looked out of the window and saw Doug staring across the garden. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘Well, he hasn’t had any more pain but he’s tired, of course. The hospital warned him that the drugs might make him tired. Said that Dr Walker could alter the dose if necessary.’
‘Yes.’ Kyla turned to her. ‘I meant mentally. Doug’s used to being very active. How is he coping with having to take it easy?’
‘Well, he doesn’t have much choice but I think he finds it frustrating.’ Leslie stared at her husband for a moment and then gave a bright smile. ‘Now, then. What was I doing? Tea. I’d offer you cake but when I came back from the hospital with Doug I went through the cupboards and threw out everything unhealthy. We’ve only fruit left to snack on.’
‘I don’t need cake, Leslie, thank you, and it’s good to know that you’re thinking about his diet.’
Leslie dropped teabags into a pot. ‘Hard to think about anything else,’ she muttered, and Kyla stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder.
‘Have you talked to anyone?’
‘Me?’ Leslie’s hand shook and she sloshed boiling water over the side of the teapot. ‘Why would I need to talk to anyone? I’m not the one who is sick.’
‘This happened to you as well as him,’ Kyla said quietly, taking the kettle from her and putting it safely back on the side. She reached for a cloth and mopped at the water. ‘It’s very stressful, seeing someone that you love suddenly taken ill. And you’ve had to stay strong for everyone. It must be incredibly hard.’
‘I’m fine,’ Leslie said briskly, her smile just a little too bright. ‘You go on outside and check on Doug. I’ll join you in a minute.’
‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you first.’
‘I’m not the ill one.’ Leslie folded a teatowel with almost obsessive attention to detail and then her face crumpled and she curled her fingers around the soft cloth and gripped it hard. ‘I keep waiting for him to die,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘Every time he gets out of that chair I want to stop him from moving just in case it causes a strain on his heart. I want to yell at him, “Don’t move,” and here they are telling him to start gentle exercise. They want him to do this cardiac rehab … something.’
‘Rehabilitation.’
‘That’s right. Rehabilitation.’ She sniffed. ‘But I don’t want him to lift a teacup, let alone exercise!’
‘Oh, Leslie.’ Her voice loaded with sympathy, Kyla stepped forward and gave the other woman a hug. ‘The rehabilitation programme is really important after a heart attack. I know it seems scary to you but it’s really important to gradually increase the amount of activity. They’ve looked at his age and his lifestyle and worked out what’s right for him. I spoke to the cardiac sister this morning and we discussed the programme that the unit want him to follow.’
‘He’s got a video and some leaflets. And he’s going to have to lose some of that weight.’
Kyla nodded.