Dare She Date the Dreamy Doc?. Sarah Morgan
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wondered why the most difficult conversations always happened at the most awkward times. The ferry was docking and he was doing a consultation on the quay, within earshot of a hundred disembarking passengers. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she was trying to step over a line he never allowed a patient to cross. ‘You’re suffering from depression, Zoe, and that’s an illness like any other.’
‘Yes, I know. You made me see that.’ Painfully awkward, she rubbed her toe on the hard concrete of the quay. ‘You’ve been great, Dr McKinley. Really great. I feel better about everything, now. More able to cope, you know? And I just wondered if—’
Ryan cut her off before she went too far and said something that couldn’t be unsaid. ‘Apart from the fact I’m your doctor, and I’d be struck off if I said yes, I’m way too old for you.’ Too old. Too cynical. ‘But I’m pleased you feel like dating. That’s good, Zoe. And, judging from the way the men of Glenmore were flocking around you last night, you’re not short of admirers, so I think you should go for it. Pick someone you like and get yourself out there.’
Her wistful glance told him exactly who was top of her list, and she gazed at him for a moment before giving a short laugh. ‘You’re refusing me.’
‘Yes.’ Ryan spoke firmly, not wanting there to be any mistake. ‘I am. But in the nicest possible way.’
Zoe was looking at him anxiously. ‘I’ve embarrassed you—’
‘I’m not embarrassed.’ Ryan searched for the right thing to say, knowing that the correct response was crucial both for her self-esteem and their future relationship. ‘We’ve talked a lot over the past two months, Zoe. You’ve trusted me with things you probably haven’t told other people. It’s not unusual for that type of confidence to make you feel a bit confused about your own feelings. If it would help, you can change doctors.’
‘I’m not confused, Dr McKinley. And I don’t want to change doctors. You’ve got such a way with words, and I’ve never known a man listen like you—I suppose that’s why I—’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I will date one of those guys.’ She smiled up at him. ‘That archaeologist who’s hanging around this summer is pretty cool.’
‘Interesting guy,’ Ryan agreed, relieved that she didn’t appear to be too heartbroken by his rejection.
‘What about you, Dr McKinley? Why are you waiting for the ferry? Are you meeting a woman?’
‘In a manner of speaking. Our new practice nurse is arriving today. Reinforcements.’ And he had a favour to ask her. He just hoped that Jennifer Richards was a big-hearted woman.
‘A new nurse?’ There was a wistful note to Zoe’s voice. ‘Well, I know Nurse Evanna needs the help. So what’s this new nurse like? Is she young?’
‘She’s coming with her teenage daughter.’ Why had Evanna wanted him to meet her? That question played on his mind as he watched the ferry dock. It could have been an innocent request, but he also knew that his colleague was obsessed with matching people up. She wanted a happy ending.
Ryan felt the tension spread across his shoulders. He knew life didn’t often offer up happy endings.
Zoe’s face brightened. ‘If she has a teenage daughter, she must be forty at least. Maybe even older.’ She dismissed the competition. ‘Well, the ferry is on time, so you’re about to meet your nurse.’
Shaking the sleep out of his brain, Ryan watched as a patchwork of people flowed off the ferry. Businessmen in suits, families clutching bulging beach bags, toddlers in pushchairs. A slightly overweight, middle-aged woman puffed her way towards him carrying a suitcase.
He didn’t know whether to be relieved that Evanna clearly hadn’t been matchmaking or disappointed that their new practice nurse didn’t look fit enough to work a hard day at the surgery. ‘Jennifer?’ He extended a hand. ‘I’m Dr McKinley. Ryan McKinley. Welcome to Glenmore Island.’
The woman looked startled. ‘Thank you, but I’m Caroline, not Jennifer. I’m just here for a week with my husband.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards a sweating, balding man, who was struggling with a beach umbrella and an assortment of bags, one of which popped open, spilling the contents onto the quay.
‘Oops. Let me help you—’ A slim girl put down her own suitcase, stepped forward and deftly rescued the contents of the bag, her pink mouth curving into a friendly smile as she stuffed everything back inside and snapped the bag firmly shut.
Ryan’s gaze lingered on that mouth for a full five seconds before shifting to her snaky dark curls. The clip at the back of her head suggested that at one time her hair had been fastened, but it had obviously made an escape bid during the ferry journey and was now tumbling unrestrained around her narrow shoulders. She was pale, and there were dark rings under her eyes—as if she hadn’t had a decent sleep in months. As if life had closed its jaws and taken a bite out of her.
He recognised the look because for months he’d seen it in his own reflection when he’d looked in the mirror.
Or maybe he was imagining things. Plenty of people looked tired when they first arrived on the island. It took time to relax and unwind, but by the time they caught the ferry back to the mainland they had colour in their cheeks and the dark circles had gone.
Doubtless this girl had worked all winter in some grey, smog-filled city, saving up her holiday for a couple of bracing weeks on a remote Scottish island.
Eyeing the jumper looped around her shoulders, Ryan realised that she obviously knew that summer weather on Glenmore could be unpredictable.
He watched her for a full minute, surprised by the kindness she showed to a stranger. With no fuss, she helped rearrange his possessions into a manageable load, making small talk about the problems of packing for a holiday in a destination where the weather was unpredictable.
Having helped the couple, the girl stood for a moment, just breathing in the sea air, as if she hadn’t stood still for ages while the man and his wife carted themselves and their luggage towards the two island taxis.
‘The brochures promise you a welcome,’ the woman panted, her voice carrying across the quay, ‘but I didn’t imagine that the island doctor would meet everyone personally. He even shook my hand! That is good service.’
A faint smile on his lips, Ryan watched them pile into a taxi. Then he stared at the ferry, resisting the temptation to take another look at the girl. He hoped the nurse and her daughter hadn’t missed the boat.
A hand touched his arm. ‘Did I hear you say that you’re Dr McKinley?’ The girl with the tumbling black hair was beside him, cases by her feet, her voice smoky soft and her eyes sharp and intelligent. ‘I’m Jenna.’
Ryan looked into her eyes and thought of the sea. Shades of aquamarine, green and blue blended into a shade that was uniquely hers. He opened his mouth and closed it again—tried to look away and found that he couldn’t. So he just carried on staring, and he saw something blossom in the depths of those eyes. Awareness. A connection. As if each recognised something in the other.
Something gripped him hard—something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Shocked by the chemistry, Ryan inhaled sharply and prepared himself to put up barriers, but she got there first.
Panic flickered across her face and she took a step backwards, clearly rejecting what had happened between them.
And that was fine with him, because he was rejecting it too.
He didn’t even know why she’d introduced herself. Was every passenger going to shake his hand this morning?
Ryan knew he needed to say something casual and dismissive, but his eyes were fixed on the sweet lines of her profile and his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth.
She wasn’t a girl, he realised. She was a woman. A young woman.
Mid-twenties?
And