The GP's Meant-To-Be Bride. Jennifer Taylor
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on how sympathetic she was. Now he couldn’t help feeling guilty that she was suffering because of him. If he’d thought long and hard before he’d asked Heather to marry him, based the decision on his emotions rather than ticking all those wretched boxes, a lot of people might not be feeling quite so upset today.
It was galling to admit that he was at fault. Ross got out of the car without waiting to see if Gemma was going to take him up on his offer of extra clothing. He would take some stuff with him and she could choose what she wanted, he decided as he let himself into the house. Ben was just hanging up the phone—he grimaced when Ross went in.
‘I’ve only managed to contact about half the people on this list. Most of them are already on their way here.’
‘I’ll phone the vicar and ask him to meet them at the church,’ Ross said shortly, unhooking a waterproof jacket from the peg behind the door. He tossed it over a chair then rummaged through the stack of Wellington boots until he found a pair that should fit Gemma, then picked up a larger pair for himself plus a pair for Ben.
‘I thought you were going to meet the ones who turned up,’ Ben said uncertainly, eyeing the mound of clothing. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I understand if you’ve changed your mind. It’s not something I’d relish doing either.’
‘I’d go if I could but I’m afraid we’re needed elsewhere.’
Ross felt around on the shelf and came up with several pairs of gloves which he added to the pile. The kitchen was starting to resemble a jumble sale but they’d be glad of the extra layers. It was bitterly cold outside and they would be frozen if they were outside for any length of time, Gemma in particular. All she had on was a sweatshirt and jeans—she’d catch her death.
The thought was far too worrying. Ross pushed it aside and opened the cupboard. Lifting out the spare pack of medical supplies he kept for emergencies, he placed it next to the chair.
‘We are?’ Ben’s brows rose steeply. ‘Why? What’s up?’
‘A crane has collapsed down by the canal and there are several people injured,’ Ross explained, opening the pack to check that everything was there. Dressings, scissors, stethoscope, cannulas…what else? Ah, yes, saline, an essential in a situation like this.
He lifted out the box containing the pouches of fluid, and handed it to Ben. ‘Here. Grab hold of this.’
‘How come you’ve been asked to attend?’ Ben demanded, taking the box from him.
‘Because your lot aren’t up to the job,’ Ross quipped. He scooped up the clothes, swung the backpack over his shoulder and headed for the door.
‘Cheek!’ Ben loped along beside him. He reached around and opened the front door seeing as Ross’s hands were full. ‘Seriously, though, what’s going on?’
‘Apparently, there’s a problem with the fuel that’s been delivered to Dalverston’s ambulance station. All the vehicles apart from one paramedic car are out of action.’ He juggled the pairs of Wellingtons as he tried to unlock the boot of the car, dropped one, and cursed.
‘I’ll get that.’
All of a sudden Gemma was there, bending down to retrieve the recalcitrant boot. Ross nodded his thanks as he stowed the equipment in the car, then eased a waxed jacket out of the tangle of clothing and handed it to her.
‘Thanks.’ She shrugged it on, shivering as she zipped it up. Taking the box from Ben, she put it with the rest of the gear then slammed the boot lid.
‘I can’t believe this has happened!’ Ben was muttering to himself as they climbed into the car. ‘No ambulances? What on earth are they going to do for the rest of the day?’
‘It could take longer than a day to sort things out,’ Ross pointed out. He pulled out of the drive and turned right, heading towards the canal. ‘Remember that problem they had down south last year? Dozens of cars broke down because there was something in the fuel? It took weeks to get them back on the road. They had to strip all the engines.’
‘We can’t be without an ambulance service for weeks!’ Ben exclaimed. ‘Lives will be lost.’
‘They’ll come up with some sort of a contingency plan,’ Gemma said soothingly from the back seat.
‘You’re right.’ Ben turned round and grinned at her. ‘Of course they will. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get my knickers in a twist!’
They both laughed, Ben at his own stupidity, Gemma at the joke, although Ross didn’t join in. Ben and Gemma seemed very friendly all of a sudden. Far more friendly than he would have expected, although wasn’t it tradition that romantic sparks should fly between the best man and the bridesmaid? Had Ben been looking forward to upholding that tradition, perhaps? Well, if that was the case, maybe it was a good job the wedding had been cancelled.
The force of that thought surprised him so much that the car swerved as he pulled a little too forcefully on the steering-wheel. ‘Ice,’ he said briefly to excuse his error. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, expecting Gemma to smile with her customary understanding, but she was staring straight ahead with an expression of such terror on her face that he was instantly contrite. The last thing he wanted was to scare her witless!
The rest of the journey passed without incident, mainly because Ross refused to let his mind wander again. The paramedic car had already arrived when they reached the canal so Ben went to speak to the driver. Ross unloaded their gear, piling everything on the ground next to the car.
‘Help yourself to anything you need,’ he told Gemma when she came to help him.
‘Thanks.’
She picked up a woollen hat and pulled it on, silky tendrils of silver-gold hair peeking out from under the brim, and that funny wobbly feeling started up again in the pit of Ross’s stomach. Lifting out the haversack, he swung it over his shoulder and headed towards the footpath that led to the canal.
‘I’ll go and see what’s what,’ he said tersely, determined to keep a rein on his emotions before they got him into trouble.
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said immediately, grabbing a pair of gloves.
They climbed over the stile, followed the path through the copse then ground to a halt at the sight that met them. The whole arm of the crane, complete with a huge metal girder it had been lifting, had buckled and was straddling the canal from one bank to the other. Sections of metalwork had sheered off when it had collapsed and had rained down on the men who’d been working below. Ross could see a number of people lying on the ground and several others, including a boy of about ten, wandering about looking dazed. Turning to Gemma, he rattled out instructions.
‘You check the guy nearest to us while I take a look at the crane driver. I’ll check out the child first, though—I don’t want him hanging around here any longer than is necessary. Do what you can but don’t waste time if it doesn’t look hopeful. Speed is of the essence here. Ben should be along soon so don’t do anything stupid. And keep well away from the crane. That thing could collapse at any moment and I don’t want you underneath it if it does.’
‘It would mess up the surgery rosters,’ she said, tongue in cheek.
‘Too damned right it would,’ he said with a half smile, afraid that she would realise that he was genuinely worried about her.
The thought shook him. Ross turned away and hurried over to the boy, feeling more confused than ever. For three years Gemma Craven had existed on the periphery of his life. He’d had no feelings for her, one way or another, yet all of a sudden he seemed to be awash with them. Why was it happening today of all days? Was it the shock of having his plans ruined that was causing him to behave this way?
It was the only explanation that made any sense. His life had been turned on its head today and all of a sudden he was seeing everything in a completely different light. It was strange that he should be so fixated on Gemma, though. She certainly didn’t fit