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‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
At that moment Ryan noticed Tara heading off, and he wanted to talk to her. He felt oddly jilted. But he didn’t have any claim on what she did.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I just want to …’ His voice trailed off as one of the other GPs in the practice cornered Rob Whelan and let Ryan off the hook. Ryan dumped his barely touched food onto the table to follow Tara, but she’d vanished in the space of a few seconds. He went in pursuit and found her room off the corridor leading to Reception.
He knocked quietly but there was no response.
Maybe she hadn’t gone back to her room.
He knocked again, a little louder.
‘Tara?’ He opened the door but her spacious office was empty. He glanced around and noted the modifications that had been made because of Tara’s disability. Shelves and cupboards were no higher than shoulder-height. There were two patients’ chairs but a notable absence of a seat for the doctor. The examination couch was also low, and the pedal that raised or lowered the bed had been modified to accommodate hand controls similar to those used for hospital beds. In fact just about everything in the room was reachable from a wheelchair.
He heard movement from behind a door on the far side of the room, and then the sound of a toilet flushing and water running. The door opened, apparently remote-controlled, and Tara wheeled herself into the room, concentrating on the small joystick that controlled the direction of her chair. She obviously hadn’t seen him as he stood quietly by the door.
He cleared his throat and the muscles of Tara’s shoulders visibly jerked. She scowled as blood rose to her neck and coloured her face.
‘What the—?’
‘Sorry, I knocked. Twice.’ He cleared his throat again.
‘Well, did you want to see me for something?’ Tara said after they’d eyeballed each other for what felt like an age but was probably less than twenty seconds.
‘I …’
What was supposed to be a relaxed greeting and a little ice-breaking chat on his first day working in the Keysdale clinic wasn’t working out the way he’d planned.
‘I just wanted to touch base … er … in a professional capacity, of course.’ He smiled uneasily. It sounded ridiculous now. ‘But you disappeared before I had time to say much more than hello just now.’
Tara tilted her head slightly and the steely look in her eyes blocked any access to what she was thinking. Then the expression on her face softened, as if she’d had a change of mind. It was too much to expect she’d had a change of heart.
‘You took me by surprise,’ she said bluntly. ‘I have a fairly rigid routine at work. It means I can use my time here the most efficiently.’ She hesitated.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
‘You weren’t to know. After all, a good many years have passed since we last saw each other and a lot has happened since then. We’ve both been living our own lives and I’m not the same person I was back then.’
She was unable to hide her quick downward glance. He didn’t blame her for being bitter. Thoughts that had been tumbling through his mind over the last two weeks returned.
If he could change places with her, he would—a hundred times over; if he could turn back the clock; if only things had been different.
He felt totally helpless.
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t often Ryan was lost for words. He was now.
Tara fiddled with some papers on her desk, arranging them in a neat pile. Then she repositioned herself in her chair.
‘Well, while you are here, have you a minute to discuss a patient?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The atmosphere had definitely lightened. The tension of discussing the past evaporated like summer rain falling on hot asphalt.
‘Her name’s Pippa Morgan and I’ve asked her to make an appointment to see you but it could be a couple of weeks down the track. I’ve been told how busy you are, and that you’re booked up for the next month.’
‘Tell me about her.’
Tara swung around to face him.
‘She’s nineteen. Juvenile rheumatoid arthritis was diagnosed when she was six years old. She’s been managed by a rheumatologist from the early stages.’ Tara paused to take a breath. ‘Of course I’ve only known her as a teenager, and she’s been under the care of Liam Taylor for the past two years. She’s had just about every treatment in the book to control her pain and inflammation—non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, Prednisone, Methotrexate, a trial of a DMARD as well as joint injections.’
Ryan had treated many patients with the inflamed and sometimes deformed joints of the chronic rheumatic condition rheumatoid arthritis, but rarely saw children or young adults with the disease. Treatment by surgery was usually kept in reserve for when all else failed. And the bulk of his experience had been with the middle-aged and elderly.
‘Liam’s one of the best adult rheumatologists around.’
‘It was he who suggested she may need a hip replacement in the next year or two.’
‘And you want my opinion?’
‘That’s right.’
Their conversation was interrupted by Ryan’s mobile phone. He answered the call from his receptionist.
‘Sorry, there’s an emergency. A child with what sounds like displaced fractures of tib and fib.’ He looked at his watch and noted his busy afternoon consulting was due to start as well. ‘I’m going to have to go.’
‘Of course.’
‘We’ll talk about Pippa later.’ He paused in the doorway on his way out. ‘I’ll ring you.’
As Ryan strode down the corridor he tried to file thoughts of Tara Fielding deep in the back of his mind so he could focus totally on his work.
‘I’m taking two patient files with me tonight. Also, would you mind checking if we have a referral letter for a nineteen-year-old named Pippa Morgan—and have you typed out the theatre list for tomorrow?’ Ryan glanced at the wall clock behind his receptionist, eager to leave. He’d had an early start and a long day.
Liz extracted a file from the cabinet and leafed through a dozen sheets of paper before she found the letter Ryan had asked for.
‘Here it is. I’d have remembered if I’d scanned it into the computer records because I’d have made a file for her.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll just do you a photocopy.’
The efficient middle-aged woman smiled. She was a Keysdale local, and today was the first time he’d met her, but she’d certainly proved her worth. She seemed to have the ability to think and act one step ahead of him.
‘So you don’t trust me to return it?’
‘I’m sure you have the best of intentions but I know how busy doctors are.’
‘And it might get overlooked?’ He returned her smile.
‘Something like that.’ She handed him the copy of the letter as well as the theatre list, and jotted down the names of the patient files he’d laid on the counter. ‘And there’s one more thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I won’t be a moment,’ she said as she turned and headed for the back room, returning with a loaded plastic carry-bag. ‘You won’t need to think about what to eat this evening. There was so much food left over from the welcome party, and the girls didn’t want to waste it. Someone noticed you rushed off without touching your lunch so they thought you were a worthy recipient.’
Ryan took a quick peek in the bag and noted there was enough food to last for the next week.
‘Thanks, that’s a really kind thought, but I can’t possibly eat all of this.’
‘It’ll only get thrown away, so you might as well take it.’ He took the bag.
‘Okay, thanks, Liz. I’ll see you next week, then.’
When he arrived in the car park he offloaded the food and his gear in the back seat, climbed in and turned the key in the ignition. But instead of firing on the first turn the engine groaned and his state-of-the-art luxury car gave up.
‘Damn, this is the last thing I need,’ he muttered. He tried again with the same result, wondering if his usually reliable car had been interfered with. ‘The last thing I need …’ he muttered again, trying one more time to fire up the engine.
He phoned his roadside call-out service and was given the number of a local auto repair shop. When the mechanic arrived the news was not good.
During Tara’s busy afternoon every patient seemed to take longer than their allotted time, and at the end of her list she was running nearly an hour late. It was well past five o’clock. If she was running too late her parents worried. She understood why. The accident had fuelled what had become their almost obsessive concern about the safety of their only child, their precious, perfect, beautiful daughter—but it didn’t make her life any easier. No matter how many times she’d tried to persuade them she was capable of looking after herself they still waited up for her when she had the occasional date or night out with her friends. And she had to tell them where she was going, especially if she was driving on her own.
Right now she had to live with it. Tara owed her parents big-time and she didn’t want to cause them any more stress than they already had.
She packed her things in readiness to leave and headed to Reception. When she was barely out of her room Ryan burst through the outside door as if he was being pursued by a pack of rabid dogs. He’d certainly found a novel way of attracting attention.
‘Is there a taxi service in this town?’ he said in a voice laced with frustration and impatience.
Tara wheeled slowly closer, but Ryan hadn’t noticed her and went on without waiting for a reply.
‘My car won’t start. There’s something wrong with the ignition system and it needs to be towed to the local garage to be repaired—’
‘I’ve got some jump leads in my car if that’s any help,’ Jenny offered.
Ryan sighed. ‘I wish … Apparently the computer and security system is so complicated you need an auto electrician to reset and reconnect it, even if it’s simply a flat battery. Which won’t happen until tomorrow.’
Some of the edginess had gone from Ryan’s voice and he looked worn out. He’d obviously had a busy day and it appeared it wasn’t going to get any better.
Tara was at the counter now.
‘I’m just leaving and can drop you off. Taxis here are notoriously unreliable unless you make an advance booking. Where are you staying?’
Ryan looked stunned, as if Tara was the last person he’d expected to see, let alone offer a simple solution to his predicament.
‘Ahh …’
Three sets of eyes were fixed on him, waiting for a reply, and Tara began to wonder if her offer was a mistake.
‘You could help me with my chair.’ Tara was the one to break the uncomfortable silence.
‘I’m at the Riverside. I could probably walk, but I have a lot of gear to transport.’ He hesitated. ‘And it would just be for tonight. A hire car is being delivered to the motel in a couple of hours.’ His expression softened. ‘Thanks, Dr Fielding.’
When they reached her car Tara couldn’t help noticing Ryan’s gaze drift to her legs and then to the hand controls of the car. Suddenly she felt she had something to prove to Ryan—that she could manage perfectly without him. She didn’t want pity, or sympathy, or even admiration. She just wanted her ex-husband to accept her for who she was.
‘What do I need to do to get your chair into the car?’ he said, after he’d moved a couple of plastic crates, his medical case and two supermarket carry-bags from the boot of his now useless car to the back seat of her vehicle.
Good. The practicality of the transfer from chair to car was the perfect diversion from thoughts of Ryan encroaching on her personal space. She wheeled close to the driver’s door, opened it and lifted herself into the seat.
‘When you open the back you’ll see the platform. The controls are hooked onto the driver side just below the window.’
Ryan was already at the rear of the vehicle. He opened the door.
‘Is this it?’ He waved the handpiece.
‘Yes. All you have to do now is press the down arrow button and the platform is programmed to slide out and down to the ground. Simply strap the chair in and press the up button.
‘Ah, yes, I can see it.’
A few seconds later he was at her side. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’
‘Thanks, but I can manage now.’
Tara felt her jaw tighten, and her words did little to disguise her feelings, which were churning around like a newspaper caught in a whirlwind. She’d had no idea being in close proximity to Ryan—alone—would have such an unsettling effect on her. She’d programmed herself to keep him at a distance and now he was sitting a handspan away from her.
At that moment she wondered if she’d made a mistake. She wished she could drive straight home.
But she couldn’t.
Though Ryan was grateful for Tara’s offer to help him out, he got the impression she wished she was anywhere but sitting next to him in her car.
What could he do to help her relax? After all it wasn’t his fault his car had broken down and she’d offered him the lift. She might be taking him back to his motel, but it wasn’t as if he then expected her to sleep with him.
Where had that come from?
The thought did hold some attraction, though. He glanced in her direction and dismissed the idea from his mind. The scowl on Tara’s face suggested she’d more likely suffer being thrown into a pit of deadly snakes than have the slightest physical contact with him.
But why?
He’d been pleasant and polite without being over-friendly. He’d made no demands on her, and he hoped he’d dealt with his ex-wife in a non-confrontational way.
But she’d changed. The openness they’d always shared in their relationship had been replaced by a cautious hesitancy; the love of life she’d had in bucketloads seemed to have dried up; taking risks and trying new things had been supplanted by the rigid routine enforced by her disability. And she certainly wasn’t to blame. No one was to blame. Ryan repeated the words that had become a mantra in the months following the accident.
No one was to blame.
Did Tara believe that?
He truly wanted to find out and, if the barriers were still up, shielding the intimacy they’d had in the past, then maybe he should just try for friendship. Now he had seen her again he knew he at least needed to talk to her. And perhaps he had the ideal opportunity tonight. After all, the worst that could happen was that she’d simply refuse, and he could live with that.
They were pulling into the driveway of the motel so he didn’t have much time.
‘I really appreciate you helping me out, Tara. Can I repay you for the lift?’
‘Pardon?’ She glanced briefly in his direction before bringing the car to a halt in front of the office.
‘I want to repay you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her stare was ice-cool.
‘Liz gave me some leftovers from lunch and I have way too much to eat myself. Would you like to share them with me?’
The stare turned into a frown and then she looked straight ahead, moving the gearstick from ‘Park’ to ‘Reverse’.
‘Which unit is yours?’
Any kind of thaw seemed a long way away, and Ryan accepted the fact he’d just been handed a refusal. Nothing lost, nothing gained.
But then her expression changed. Still cool but the ice was melting.
‘Okay. I have that patient I mentioned earlier I wanted to discuss with you. Would you mind—?’
‘Of course not.’ Ryan had the feeling he had nudged a little closer to first base.
And what could be more innocent than two colleagues discussing a patient over a bite to eat? Tara shouldn’t feel threatened by that. Ryan’s face broke into a smile as he realised what he’d thought was going to be a gloomy end to his long day had the potential to shine.
CHAPTER THREE
PART of the reason for Tara’s decision to share a meal with Ryan was because over the last two weeks, since he’d catapulted back into her life, she’d been thinking about him constantly. She also had some questions she needed answering, and it wasn’t the sort of discussion that could take place in the lunch room at the clinic.
Her all-consuming concern was … why?
Why was he back when she’d worked so hard to make her life as good as it could be without him?
Why had he accepted a job in Keysdale when he could choose any job he wanted?
Why had he married, fathered a child and then divorced a few short years later?
And the last question she could only answer herself—why did she care so much when she’d thought she was well and truly over him?
She tried to rationalise by telling herself it was perfectly reasonable that she held a gnawing suspicion about his motives. But were those emotions that were surfacing from another time in her life an indication she still had feelings for her ex-husband?
It scared her.
She was also annoyed that her balanced, well-ordered world was beginning to tilt on its axis a little. Her life was complicated enough as it was and she didn’t need any more problems.
To clear the air she definitely needed to at least talk to Ryan, so she could clarify her own feelings. All she knew now was that the man sitting next to her with a genuine smile on his face, had forced her to revisit a time when she’d been married to the only man she’d truly loved. While he’d been married to a stranger, settled more than two hundred kilometres away and living the life she’d always hoped he’d have, she’d overcome the pain and uncertainty of wondering if he sincerely believed, as he’d told her a hundred times after the accident, she was more important than anything else in his life.
Ryan cleared his throat as he opened the car door and she wondered if he’d been watching her.
‘I’ll get your chair and then I’ll unload all my stuff.’
‘Thanks,’ she said quietly, forcing a smile.
Ryan was a quick learner. In just a few minutes he had the chair where she could easily transfer into it and was rummaging in the back of the car, unpacking his bags and boxes.
‘Would you mind carrying the food?’
‘Fine.’ He definitely did learn fast, and was doing his best not to make a big thing of what Tara couldn’t do and focusing on what she could.
After locking the vehicle, Tara propelled herself to the small entry of Ryan’s unit and waited while he unlocked the door, went inside and turned on the lights. She cast a quick glance around the compact living-dining area and noted that her host was obviously not expecting guests. The small desk in one corner was littered with papers and a large overnight bag decorated the single settee. She could see jeans and a couple of tee shirts strewn on the bed, with a cup and a juice box sitting on the bedside table. At least the bathroom door was closed. She didn’t want to conjure up any thoughts of Ryan that tipped outside the boundaries she’d decided to impose for any contact outside work.
‘Sorry about the mess.’
Ryan’s clichéd reply brought a small smile to Tara’s face. He’d always been messy.
Ryan put the food in the kitchen, stowed the rest of his gear in the bedroom and closed the door. He was staring at her intently.
‘What’s so amusing?’
Damn. She’d let her guard down. She restored what she hoped was a neutral expression. The last thing she wanted to do was to tell Ryan her thoughts.
‘Nothing at all. However, I should ring my parents and let them know I’ll be home late.
‘Yes, of course you must. I’ll go and get changed while you do and then we’ll eat.’
Tara watched him disappear into the bedroom and sighed, hoping she’d have the courage to start to put her life back on course. She rang her parents’ number.
As Ryan pulled on a pair of jeans and a crumpled polo shirt a jumble of thoughts he’d previously managed to suppress scuttled through his mind.
Thoughts of the past.
He now realised that his years with Tara had been the best of his life, but she’d changed; her body had changed. Ryan knew it shouldn’t make any difference but it did. Although his feelings for her were strong, Tara was guarded and cautious around him. He didn’t seem to be able to get it right—the balance between friendly helpfulness and the undeniable protectiveness he felt for her. She seemed to want to be treated only as a colleague, but he couldn’t ignore their past.
He was responsible for the way things were now. The thought kept flashing in his mind like a neon sign that wouldn’t go away.
It added to his remorse.
In the end, he decided to let the evening chart its own course and he’d suffer any consequences. After all, it was unlikely they’d have the opportunity to spend much time together at work. Already he had a good idea he’d have little spare time to socialise during the couple of days he spent each week at Keysdale. In fact he’d been prepared for a knock-back when he’d asked Tara to share a meal with him.
Tara … She was rapidly turning into an enigma. He remembered how self-contained she’d been when he’d watched her get in her car and drive away without any idea he was in the car park on that Friday afternoon a couple of weeks ago. But he’d also seen traces of anxiety mixed with vulnerability during the brief contacts he’d had with her since. His natural instinct was to offer to help, but her independence stood firm as a barrier to his good intentions. He took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. Tara had moved his bag and settled herself in one corner of the settee.
She glanced at him, blushed and then focused on the bags on the kitchen bench. She was more ill at ease than he was.
‘The food smells delicious.’
Small talk was definitely a good idea.
‘They seem like pretty high-quality leftovers. I hope you don’t mind?’ Ryan stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next. He began unpacking the food.
‘Of course not.’ She scrutinised every dish.
‘Are you happy to eat now?’
‘I don’t mind. Whatever you want to do.’
Tension buzzed in the air. It was almost as if they were on a first date.
‘I somehow managed to miss out on lunch and I’m starving.’ He cleared his throat. ‘My brain functions better on a full stomach.’
He began to lay out two place settings on the tiny kitchen gate-leg table, but then realised there would be more room on the coffee table.
‘I’ll spread the food out here. There’s much more space and we can serve ourselves.’
‘Yes, that’s a sensible idea. I’m hungry.’ She paused a moment, then smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mind women with hearty appetites.’
Ryan couldn’t help doing a quick appraisal and it reinforced his first impressions. He was pleased with what he saw. Tara wore trousers and a tailored shirt with the top two buttons open, revealing a hint of cleavage which he hadn’t noticed earlier in the day. Her upper body was lean and well toned. He imagined she exercised regularly to keep in shape.
She was an attractive woman … and very sexy.
His heart thudded uncomfortably at the realisation. Sex had been an important and joyous part of their relationship. Making love with Tara had always been a deeply sensual experience—he smiled—laced with a unique sense of fun that he’d never experienced with his second wife, Shannay. With the benefit of hindsight and the lingering pain of a second divorce, he realised his feelings for his second wife had been based on a blinding infatuation, probably arising from a need to escape his grief.
There was no hint Tara had any similar feeling towards him, though. She was looking at him impatiently, waiting for his reply.
‘No, definitely not,’ he said at last.
Once the food was set out they both loaded their plates and ate their fill.
When Tara put her empty plate on the table, Ryan cleared the dishes and left them on the sink to deal with later.
He sat down next to Tara.
‘So tell me about your patient.’ It was neutral territory and unlikely to open any old wounds.