Dr Blake's Angel. Marion Lennox
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rested her hands lightly on her very pregnant tummy. ‘Ask away. Or I can explain by myself if you’d rather.’
‘Go ahead,’ he said faintly, and her smile deepened.
‘You promise not to rope me into a strait-jacket?’
‘I promise no such thing.’ Her smile was infectious. Somehow he found the corners of his mouth twitching in response. ‘But I’ll listen.’
That was better! Nell settled further back into her chair and relaxed. He seemed nice, she thought. And he was younger than she’d expected. Jonas and Emily had described him as best they could but it had hardly been a comprehensive description.
‘Blake’s in his mid-thirties,’ Em had told her. ‘He’s got the most gorgeous gold-brown hair and smily brown eyes. Creasy eyes, if you know what I mean. Nice. They’re tired creased as well as laughter creased but I guess you’d expect that after what he’s gone through. And what he’s going through. His life’s all medicine. Work, work and more work. Except his marathon running—though how he finds the time to fit that in is anyone’s guess.’
Emily had sighed as she’d described him. ‘You’ll like him, Nell. You must. Anyone would. It’s a damned shame…’ She’d hauled herself back on track. ‘No matter. But what else? Oh, he’s tall. Over six feet. He’s taller than Jonas.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ Jonas had interrupted then, cutting across his wife with good humour. ‘Nell wants a medical description—not the sort of description you’d find in the lonely hearts column.’ Jonas had grimaced his disgust, and Nell had grinned.
‘OK, Jonas. What would you tell me about him?’
‘He’s a great guy. He likes beer.’
‘Gee, that’s useful,’ Nell retorted, and both the women had chuckled.
‘Well, he’s a really talented surgeon,’ Jonas told her, in a valiant attempt to fill in the bits his wife had left out. ‘His training is in vascular as well as general surgery, so Sandy Ridge is lucky to have him. He’s one caring doctor, with far more skills than the normal country doctor possesses. But Em’s right. He drives himself into the ground.’
‘Which is where you come in,’ Em had added.
Which was where Nell came in. She’d gone to visit her friends and she’d ended up here.
So now Nell faced Blake Sutherland across the desk and she knew what she had to say. ‘It’s as I told you,’ she said blandly. ‘I’m your Christmas present. Take me or leave me, but I’m here, to use as you will.’
Blake Sutherland was not often flummoxed, but he was flummoxed now. And he was also so tired that he was having trouble understanding what was in front of him.
Sandy Ridge was an isolated medical community. Thirty miles to the north, the marriage of Jonas Lunn and Emily Mainwaring had given Bay Beach good medical cover, and his two friends gave him his only time off, but it wasn’t enough.
That was the way he liked it, he’d told himself over and over through the two years he’d been here. He liked being a country doctor, and he liked being on his own. It was just every so often that he felt snowed under.
Like now. Like when he had the Christmas rush and a crazy pregnant stranger to cope with, and too many house calls after that.
‘You’d better explain a bit more,’ he managed, and Nell’s smile softened into sympathy.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea while I do?’
A cup of tea? She’d booked in as his patient and she was offering him cups of tea?
‘Thank you, but no.’
‘You look like you need it.’
What he needed was to get out of here. He needed to do his house calls, see Grace Mayne and then he needed to sleep—for about a hundred years!
‘Can you just tell me what the problem is, and let me get on with my day?’ he said wearily. ‘Have you filled in a new patient summary?’ He lifted a form and held it up without hope. Marion should have insisted she fill it out. He had no idea why she hadn’t.
‘Fill out a form when I could read ancient copies of Rich and Famous magazine?’ Nell grinned. ‘Why would I do that? I’ve been learning all about Madonna’s love life, and very interesting it is, too. Much more gripping than anything I could write on a stupid form. And I’m not a new patient.’
‘Then would you mind telling me what the heck you are?’
‘I’m trying,’ she complained. ‘But you keep interrupting. I’m your Christmas present.’
‘My Christmas present.’
‘Yes.’
Blake sat back and gazed at this extraordinary purple and pink vision and he had trouble convincing himself he wasn’t hallucinating.
‘You’re not gift-wrapped,’ he said cautiously, and received a grin for his pains.
‘That’s the trouble with being so pregnant. It’s hard to find enough wrapping paper.’ She hesitated. ‘You don’t think we could find a pub where we could talk about this, do you?’
‘Why do we need a pub?’
‘It’s just… Maybe we need a Christmas tree and some mistletoe and a bit more atmosphere.’
‘Just explain.’ It was a growl but he was at the end of his tether.
And she realised it. Nell spread her hands and she smiled across the desk at him—her very nicest smile.
‘It’s simple,’ she told him. ‘Your friends, Jonas and Emily, the doctors at Bay Beach…’
‘I know who Jonas and Emily are.’
‘Then you’ll also know that they’re very grateful to you for giving them time off when they need it. But you won’t reciprocate, and with the sudden popularity of Sandy Ridge as a tourist destination your workload’s become huge. So now…’
‘So now?’
‘They’re repaying the favour. They’re giving you a holiday. Four weeks, to be precise. Jonas was hoping to come himself but, with Robby recovering from his latest skin graft and another baby on the way, they don’t want to leave each other over Christmas. When I said I was coming here…’
‘You were coming here?’ He was clutching at straws.
‘Sandy Ridge is my home,’ she told him. His look of incredulity seemed to annoy her. ‘I might not have lived here for ten years, but I own the house out on the bluff. It’s my home now. Or it will be soon. I intend to do it up and live in it.’
‘But—’
‘Yeah, there’s the but,’ she acknowledged. ‘The place is a mess. I need to put a landmine under it to clear out the junk, and I need a base while I do it. That’s where you come in. I’m only seven months pregnant so I’m good for at least another four weeks’ work. Em said you needed someone now, so she and Jonas organised with your hospital board to pay me locum wages for four weeks. That means you, Dr Sutherland, can take yourself off for a Christmas holiday, and leave me with your responsibilities. All of them.’
To say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. To walk away for four weeks…
No.
‘The thing’s impossible. I don’t know what Jonas and Emily are thinking of.’
‘They’re thinking of you.’
‘I can’t go away.’
‘Why not?’ She smiled at him and her wide eyes were innocent. ‘I’m very well qualified. Ring Sydney Central and they’ll tell you. I worked with Jonas before he was married—that’s