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‘Well, I—I suppose …’
‘I know I did.’ Flora shrugged. ‘And I also know I wouldn’t want to be judged as an adult by how I was as a child. People change, Mrs Gregg. And everyone deserves to be given chances. Logan wouldn’t have taken Conner on if he didn’t trust him. I’d like him to see Harry. I don’t recognise this rash and the fact that he has a temperature makes it worth exploring further.’
Mrs Gregg hesitated and then glanced at Harry, clearly torn. ‘I don’t suppose Conner will know any more than that doctor on the mainland.’
‘Let’s give it a try—see what he says? I’ll see if he’s free,’ Flora said cheerfully, trying not to reveal that the chances of Conner having a patient with him was extremely remote.
Hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake, she went across the corridor and tapped on his door. ‘Conner?’ She walked in and found him absorbed in a website on the internet. She peered closer. ‘Wetsuits?’
‘I’m planning to do some sailing. It looks as though I’m going to have plenty of time on my hands.’ He swivelled his head and looked at her. ‘Are you here to relieve my boredom?’
She flushed. ‘I have a patient that needs to be seen by a doctor.’
‘And?’
‘You’re a doctor.’
‘Am I?’ He lounged back in his chair, his ice-blue gaze disturbingly direct. ‘So why am I sitting in an empty consulting room?’
‘Because this is Glenmore and it takes folks a while to get used to change. The last time they saw you, you were stirring up trouble all over the island. I don’t suppose anyone imagined you’d become a doctor. So will you see Harry Gregg?’
Conner’s eyes narrowed. ‘Diane’s son?’
‘Yes. He’s eight years old and a really nice little boy. Very lively usually, but not today. Diane is frightened.’
‘She always did have a tendency to overreact. I remember she slapped my face once.’
‘You probably deserved it.’
He smiled. ‘I probably did. So what do you think, Flora? Paranoid mother?’
Flora shook her head. ‘I think it’s something that needs looking at. The child is poorly, there’s no doubt about that. And he has a really weird rash. I’ve never seen anything like it before.’
Conner rose to his feet. ‘Is she going to slap my face again or run away screaming in horror if I walk into the room?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Flora gave a weary smile. ‘Let’s try it, shall we? Harry needs to see a doctor and I’d rather it was sooner than later.’
Diane looked up as they walked into the room. ‘Dr MacNeil.’
‘Diane.’ Conner’s greeting was cursory, his eyes focused on the boy, who was now sitting on his mother’s lap, his head on her chest. ‘Hey, sport.’ He hunkered down so that he was on the same level. ‘What’s going on with you?’
Harry opened his eyes but didn’t move his head. ‘Feel bad.’
‘His temperature is thirty-nine degrees.’ Flora gently lifted Harry’s arm so that Conner could see. ‘He’s had this rash for three days.’
‘Feel horrible,’ the boy muttered, and Conner nodded.
‘Well, we need to see what we can do about that.’ He studied the rash in silence, his blue eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Circular rash.’
Diane watched his face. ‘You’re going to tell me that it’s just a virus and that I shouldn’t have bothered you.’
Conner lifted his gaze to hers. ‘You were right to bring him. Harry? Do you mind undressing down to your underpants? I want to take a proper look at this rash.’
Flora helped the child undress and Conner examined his skin carefully and questioned Diane in detail.
‘It started under his arm when we were on holiday,’ she told him. ‘Just a red spot. And then it grew bigger and it turned into that weird thing he has now.’
‘Where did you go on holiday?’
Flora glanced at him in surprise. She wouldn’t have expected Conner to be interested in small talk.
‘Mainland.’
‘Highlands?’ Conner ran a finger over the rash, his expression thoughtful. ‘Were you walking?’
‘Yes.’ Diane looked at him. ‘How do you know?’
Conner straightened and reached for Harry’s T-shirt. ‘It fits with what I’m seeing. You can get dressed now. I’ve seen all I need to see.’ He gently pulled the T-shirt over the boy’s head. ‘Were you camping?’
‘Yes. We spent a few nights in a forest. It was lovely.’
‘Lots of deer around?’
‘Actually, yes.’ Diane frowned. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because Harry has Lyme disease.’ Conner washed his hands. ‘He was almost certainly bitten by a tick, which is why he started off with one red spot. Did you see an insect?’
‘No.’ Bemused, Diane shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. But we’ve been camping every year since he was born and we’ve never had a problem. Lyme disease? What is that? I’ve never even heard of it.’
‘It’s not that common in this country, although the number of cases is increasing. Ticks are tiny insects and they feed by sucking blood from animals such as deer. Some ticks get infected with the bacterium that causes Lyme disease and if they bite a human then they pass the disease on.’
Diane looked at him in a mixture of horror and amazement. ‘And you’re sure Harry has it? How do you know?’
‘Because his symptoms fit the history.’
Flora felt the tension leave her. Clearly Conner hadn’t been making small talk about holidays, he’d been verifying the cause of the symptoms he was seeing. Logan was right. Conner was a good doctor. A clever doctor. And Diane appeared to have forgotten that she’d ever had reservations about seeing him.
‘You’ve seen this Lyme disease before?’
‘When I was stationed overseas.’ Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down at Flora’s computer and hit a few keys, bringing up a list of antibiotics. ‘The rash that Harry has is fairly typical.’ He scrolled down, searching for the one he wanted. ‘It starts as a single circular red mark and it gradually spreads. It isn’t always painful or itchy and some people don’t even notice it, depending on where they were bitten.’
‘Is there any treatment?’
‘Yes.’ Conner’s eyes were fixed on the screen. ‘I’m going to give Harry some antibiotics.’
‘And will they work?’
‘They should do because we’ve caught it early. You did the right thing, bringing him in.’
‘The doctor on the mainland thought it was a virus.’ Diane’s mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘Virus is a word doctors use when they haven’t got a clue what’s going on.’
‘You might be right. I usually say “I don’t know” but that phrase doesn’t win you many friends either. In fairness to your guy on the mainland, Lyme disease is not a condition every doctor will have seen.’ Conner printed off the prescription and handed it to Diane. ‘Make sure Harry finishes the course.’
‘I’ll do that.’ She slipped the prescription into her bag and hesitated. ‘Thank you.’ She looked Conner in the eye. ‘I wasn’t sure about seeing you …’
‘I don’t blame you for that.’ As cool as ever, Conner rose to his feet. ‘Make an appointment to see Logan in a few days. Harry needs to be followed up. We need to be sure that the antibiotics are working.’
Diane took Harry’s hand in hers. ‘Why should I see Logan? Are you going to be busy?’
Conner gave a faint smile. ‘On current form? Probably not. But it’s important that the patients have faith in the doctor they see.’
‘I agree.’ Diane walked towards the door. ‘Which is why we’ll be making that appointment when you’re doing surgery. Thank you, Dr MacNeil. I knew I could rely on a Glenmore doctor to get the diagnosis right.’ The door closed behind her and Flora smiled happily at Conner.
‘I think you’re a hit. That was pretty impressive. I predict that once word spreads, your surgery will be crammed with patients.’
‘And I’m supposed to rejoice about that?’
‘Maybe not. But Logan will. So, tell me about Lyme disease because I’m feeling horribly ignorant.’
‘What else do you want to know? You get bitten by a tick that clings on once it bites. Then it sucks your blood—’
‘Don’t!’ Flora pulled a face. ‘You’re telling it like a horror story. If you carry on like that I’ll never set foot outside again.’
It was the wrong thing to say to Conner. He leaned against the desk and gave a wicked smile. ‘As I was saying, they suck your blood and slowly become more and more engorged—’
‘You do it on purpose, don’t you? Try and shock people.’
‘I admit it’s an extremely stimulating pastime.’
‘You might not find it so funny when I’m sick,’ Flora said sweetly, and his smile widened.
‘Nurses aren’t supposed to have delicate constitutions.’
‘Doctors aren’t supposed to be bloodthirsty.’
‘I’m just delivering the facts.’
‘Well …’ She was horribly aware of just how strong his shoulders were and how much he dominated her tiny room. ‘Could you deliver them with slightly less gruesome relish?’
‘Where was I?’ He angled his head slightly. ‘Oh, yes, they were engorged with blood. Anyway, the bacteria that cause Lyme disease are usually carried in the gut and only travel to their mouth once they’ve been feeding for about twenty-four hours. So if you remove the tick as soon as you’re bitten, you’re unlikely to be infected.’
Flora shuddered. ‘So you’re telling me that a method of prevention is to drag this greedy, engorged creature off your skin?’
‘You remove it before it’s engorged. And you don’t drag. If you drag, you’ll just leave the mouth stuck in your body.’
‘Enough!’
‘The best thing is to smother it with Vaseline. It suffocates and then you can remove it with a pair of tweezers. You shouldn’t use your fingers—’
‘I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole! And I’m never venturing outside again without full protective clothing.’
Conner’s eyes flickered to the neck of her uniform. ‘You don’t need to overdo it. The tick that carries the bacteria likes areas where there are wild deer.’
Her heart started to beat just a little bit faster. ‘And that’s why you were so interested in where the Greggs went on holiday?’
‘The symptoms fitted. The fact that they’d been camping in a forest in warm weather made it highly possible that he’d contracted the disease. Ticks like warm weather and people wear less then so they’re more likely to be bitten.’ His eyes lifted to hers and the tension between them increased.
‘Why haven’t I heard of it?’
‘Obviously there haven’t been any cases on Glenmore. It’s sensible to take precautions if you’re walking or camping in an area where infected ticks are known to live.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth, his gaze lingering. ‘Wear long sleeves and trousers, use a tick repellent spray—all the obvious things.’
They were talking about medical matters and yet there was a sudden intimacy in the atmosphere that she didn’t understand. It circled her like a forcefield, drawing her in, and when the phone rang suddenly she gave a start.
He was between her and the desk and she waited for him to move to one side so that she could answer it, but he stayed where he was. Left with no choice, she was forced to brush past him as she reached for the receiver. ‘Yes? I mean …’ Flustered by the fact that he was standing so close to her, she stumbled over the words. ‘Nurse Harris speaking—Oh, hello, Mr Murray.’ Struggling to concentrate, she listened as the man on the other end spoke to her. ‘Well, no, I hadn’t heard of it either, but—’ She broke off and listened again before finally shaking her head. ‘You’d better speak to him yourself.’
She sighed and handed the receiver to Conner. ‘It’s Mr Murray, the pharmacist down on South Quay. He has a question about the prescription you just gave Harry.’
Relaxed and confident, Conner took the phone from her, his gaze still locked with hers. ‘MacNeil.’
Flora felt as though someone had lit a fire inside her body. She should look away. She knew she should look away but she just couldn’t help herself. There was something in his ice-blue eyes that insisted that she look.
‘That’s right, Mr Murray, the dose is large.’ He listened, his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘Yes, I do know that I’m not treating a horse.’
Flora frowned and mouthed, ‘A horse?’ But Conner merely lifted a hand and trailed a finger down her cheek with agonising slowness.
‘No, believe it or not, I’m not trying to kill him, Mr Murray,’ he drawled softly, his finger lingering near her mouth. ‘I’m treating a case of Lyme disease. If you look it up I think you’ll find that the dose I’ve given him is appropriate … Yes, even in a child.’ He brushed her lower lip with his thumb as he continued to field a tirade from the island pharmacist. ‘Yes, I do remember the incident with the firework. Yes, and the barn—No, I don’t blame you for questioning me, Mr Murray.’ His hand dropped to his side and she sensed a sudden change in him. ‘Of course, you’re just doing your job.’
Finally he replaced the receiver. ‘Apparently it isn’t just the patients who have a problem trusting my judgement.’
His tone was flat and Flora stood still, wanting to say something but not knowing what. ‘It was an unusual prescription.’
‘You don’t need to make excuses for them, Flora.’ Conner straightened and walked towards the door, his face expressionless. ‘You’d better carry on with your surgery. You have patients lining the waiting room.’
She stared after him as he left the room, wanting to stop him. She wanted to say something that would fix things because she sensed that beneath his bored, devil-may-care attitude there was a seam of pain buried so deep that no one could touch it.
The islanders were wary of him, that was true, but what did he think of them?
Remembering Logan’s words, Flora bit her lip. When had anyone given Conner MacNeil a chance? When had anyone given him the benefit of the doubt? Why should he bother with any of them when they’d never bothered with him?
It was going to take more than one or two successful consultations to fill his consulting room with patients because no one believed that Conner MacNeil could be anything but a Bad Boy.
It was going to take a miracle.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE miracle didn’t happen.
A few of the locals reluctantly agreed to see Conner, but the majority refused, choosing to wait a week to see Logan rather than be forced to consult the island rebel.
‘It’s ridiculous,’ Flora told Evanna crossly a week after Conner had arrived on Glenmore. They were sitting on a rug on the beach, watching Kirsty dig in the sand. Finally the wind had dropped and the sun shone. ‘They tell Janet it’s urgent, and then say they’d rather wait than see Conner. I mean, just how urgent can something be if it can wait a week? Frankly, it would serve them right if a bit of them dropped off.’
‘Well, to be fair to them, Conner was a bit wild and crazy,’ Evanna said mildly, picking up Kirsty’s sunhat and putting it back on her head. ‘We just need to give them time to realise that he’s changed.’
‘Time isn’t on our side. Glenmore needs another doctor. A doctor the patients will see! Your baby is due in four weeks,’ Flora reminded her. ‘If the patients don’t stop demanding to see Logan, you won’t get a look-in.’
Evanna sighed. ‘I know. He’s shattered. He used to always get home before I put Kirsty to bed. Now I’m lucky if he’s home before I’m in bed.’ She lifted her face to the sun. ‘It’s hot today.’
‘I gather from Logan that your blood result was all right.’ Flora lifted a bottle of water out of her bag and took a sip. ‘That’s a relief all round.’
‘Yes, I was already immune to chickenpox, so that’s one less problem to contend with.’
Flora was still pondering the problem of Conner. ‘It isn’t as if he’s a useless doctor. He’s brilliant. You should have seen him with Harry Gregg.’ She leaned forward and helped Kirsty ease the sand out of the bucket. ‘There! A perfect castle.’ She smiled as Kirsty clapped her hands with delight. ‘And he’s diagnosed Mrs Ellis.’
‘Yes, she told me he’s given her thyroxine. He certainly seems to know what he’s doing.’
‘So why hasn’t word spread? Why won’t the islanders see him?’
‘Because they see the boy and not the man? I’m guessing, but I suppose they just don’t trust him.’ Evanna hesitated. ‘Apparently Finn Sullivan refused to rent him a yacht a few evenings ago.’
Flora stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, but it’s not all black. I saw Conner kicking a football around with the kids on the beach yesterday. They think he’s so cool. And several women have made appointments to see him, but I don’t think he was too thrilled about that.’
‘He certainly wasn’t.’ Flora brushed sand from Kirsty’s face. ‘He strode up to Janet and said, “I’m not a bloody gynaecologist” or something equally unsympathetic. And Janet pointed out that as we didn’t have a female doctor, he was expected to see female problems.’
‘And what was Conner’s response to that?’
‘I don’t know because he lowered his voice but Janet went scarlet.’
Evanna laughed. ‘I don’t suppose there was much call for gynecology in the army. According to Logan, he was dealing with a lot of trauma. Anyway, it’s time we helped him settle in, which is why I’ve invited him to join us for lunch later.’
Flora’s heart bumped hard against her chest. ‘He’s coming to lunch? I thought it was just your family. Logan, Meg and a few others.’
‘Conner is family. I thought it might be a good idea to remind people of that.’
‘Oh.’ Flora concentrated on Kirsty. ‘Well, that’s great. Really nice of you, Evanna. So we should go back to the house. Start getting ready.’ She rose to her feet and picked Kirsty up. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get the sand off your feet and take you home. Who knows? Your daddy might even be there.’
Conner’s feet echoed on the cracked wooden floorboards and he glanced around him, feeling the memories swirl. The house smelled of damp, but that wasn’t surprising because it had been years since the light and air had been allowed to pour unrestricted through its doors and windows.
He’d always hated this house and nothing had changed. It was as if the walls had absorbed some of the anger and hatred that had been played out in these rooms.
He tried to feel something positive, but there was nothing that wasn’t dark and murky, and he gave a soft curse and strode out of the front door and back into the sunshine, drawing the clear air deep into his lungs.
Just walking into the house had made him feel contaminated.
He shouldn’t have come.
He should have just paid someone to sell the damn place.
Beneath him the sea crashed onto the rocks and he sucked in a breath, drinking in the wildness of it—the savage beauty. Everything about this part of Glenmore was angry. The coast, the sea, the wind, the house …
Him?
Conner stood for a moment, battling with uncomfortable thoughts until some inner sense warned him that he wasn’t alone.
He turned swiftly and saw her.
Flora was standing only metres away from him, the wind lifting her brown curls and blowing them around her face, her expression uncertain.
‘Sorry.’ Her voice faltered and it was obvious that she couldn’t decide whether to stay or retreat. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
He wished she hadn’t, because he was in no mood for company and his desperate need for isolation fuelled his temper. ‘Then why did you?’
Flora flinched at his directness, but she didn’t retreat. ‘You were supposed to be at Logan and Evanna’s for lunch. We assumed you’d forgotten.’
‘I needed some space.’
‘Oh.’ She took a breath. ‘It’s just that … you didn’t ring or anything.’
‘No.’
‘I was worried.’
‘Why?’ Since when had anyone worried about him?
‘This business with the islanders,’ she shrugged, embarrassed and awkward. ‘It’s horrible. I thought by now they would have accepted you.’
‘It’s not important.’
‘Of course it’s important! Evanna told me that Finn wouldn’t rent you a boat—’
When he didn’t answer, she gazed at him in exasperation. ‘Don’t you care?’
He could feel the blood throbbing in his veins. ‘What are you doing here, Flora?’
‘When you didn’t show up, I thought I’d bring lunch to you.’
It was then that he noticed the basket by her feet. He could see a bowl of strawberries, thick whipped cream and another bowl, this one piled high with bronzed chicken legs. And white and red checked napkins.
A traditional picnic.
It was all so civilised and in such direct contrast to this place and everything he was feeling that he felt his tension levels soar.
He wasn’t feeling civilised. He wasn’t feeling civilised at all.
In fact, he was in an extremely dangerous mood.
‘It’s pretty here,’ she ventured hesitantly, glancing over to the rocks and the tiny beach. ‘This is the only house on the island that has its own private beach.’
‘Flora, if you have any sense, you’ll leave right now.’
Her eyes flew to his. Widened. ‘I’ve made you angry.’
There was something different about her but he couldn’t work out what it was. ‘I was angry before you arrived. I know you mean well, but I don’t wish to take a trip down memory lane and I especially don’t want to do it holding anyone’s hand,’ he said harshly. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘I went to your barn first and you weren’t there.’ She captured a strand of hair as it danced in the breeze. ‘And I saw Mrs North picking blackberries in the lane outside and she said she’d seen you coming in this direction.’
Conner’s mood darkened still further. ‘Now I know why they don’t bother with CCTV on Glenmore. They have locals stationed on every street corner.’
‘I shouldn’t have come. I really am sorry.’ Flushed and flustered, Flora lifted the basket and stepped forward. She pushed the basket into his hands, her smile brief and shy. ‘Take it. Evanna is an amazing cook. Her chicken is delicious and the strawberries are freshly picked from the Roberts’ farm. If you’re not hungry now, you can eat it later.’ Without waiting for him to reply, she turned and walked quickly away from him, her long flowery skirt swirling around her body, outlining the soft curve of her hips.
He’d offended her. Or had he frightened her?
Conner watched her for a moment and then looked down at the basket and swore long and fluently. The day was not turning out as he’d planned. He lifted his gaze from the strawberries and stared after her retreating figure with a mixture of exasperation and anger.
He didn’t care that he’d offended her.
He really didn’t care.
It wasn’t as if he’d invited her here. He hadn’t asked her to follow him.
Caught in an internal battle, he opened his mouth to speak, changed his mind and closed it again, then growled with frustration and called out to her. ‘Do you like strawberries?’
She stopped and turned—slowly. ‘Yes. I love them.’
But she didn’t move and even from this distance Conner sensed her wariness and remembered what Logan had said about her being shy.
‘Good. Because there’s a large bowlful in this basket and I hate them.’ He dumped the basket on the ground and looked at her expectantly, but she still didn’t move.
‘Just eat the chicken, then.’
Realising that she wasn’t going to walk to him, he strolled towards her and suddenly saw what was different about her. ‘You’re not wearing your glasses.’
She lifted a hand to her cheek and shrugged self-consciously. ‘Contact lenses. I don’t usually wear them at work. I’m not a morning person and I’m never awake enough to risk putting my fingers into my eyes.’ She looked over his shoulder at the basket, which now lay abandoned on the soft grass. ‘I can take the strawberries with me, if they offend you that much.’
‘Or you can sit down and eat them here.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t think you were looking for company.’
‘If the strawberries aren’t eaten, I’ll hurt Evanna’s feelings.’