Touched By Angels

Meg knew what he was saying, that he was warning her that they had no future, yet she couldn’t let it go without trying to make him see that he was wrong. “Not all women would react like Briony did, Jack.” She took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t.”

He smiled, and there was tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her. “I know that. However, it isn’t a risk I intend to take ever again.”

What could she say when he had made up his mind? Nothing. She couldn’t run from the pain she felt because it was locked inside her. Jack had said that he hadn’t compared her to Briony, but he was still judging her by the other woman’s actions!

Dear Reader,

I have always admired the bravery and dedication of those nurses and doctors who travel around the world doing medical aid work. Touched by Angels is my tribute to them, and I hope that I have managed to capture a little of the excitement, hardship and satisfaction that comes from doing this very taxing work.

This book tells the story of Meg Andrews, a nurse who decides to put her skills to good use by working for an overseas aid agency. She is thrilled when she is asked to join a team of aid workers that is being sent to the African state of Oncamba. The only problem is that the team leader, Jack Trent, makes it plain from the outset that he doesn’t believe she is cut out for this kind of work. Can Meg convince him that she has a lot to offer, both as a highly skilled professional and as the woman who can heal his broken heart?

The story is played out against the backdrop of Africa in all its beauty and cruelty. Although the state of Oncamba doesn’t exist, I hope that the characters will become as real and alive to you as they did to me.

My very best wishes to you all,

Jennifer Taylor

Touched by Angels

Jennifer Taylor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

Cover

Dear Reader

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘I KNOW it’s short notice. Unfortunately, I only found out late last night that Yvonne wouldn’t be fit enough to travel. However, I do realise that forty-eight hours isn’t very much time to get ready, so if you feel that you can’t make it, please, say so.’

‘No, it’s fine. Really.’

Meg Andrews had heard the hesitation in his voice and frowned. Even at her interview she’d sensed that Jack Trent had reservations about taking her on as a member of the team. Why? Her references were excellent and the experience she’d gained in the surgical wards of Dalverston General Hospital made her ideally suited to the work so why should he have appeared so…reluctant to accept her?

She shrugged off the faint feeling of unease, realising that it was pointless wasting time by worrying about it. There were more important things to think about, like where they would be going, for instance. She felt a little thrill of excitement course through her as it hit her that it was really going to happen at last.

As soon as she’d seen the advertisement in one of the nursing journals for experienced nurses to join a leading overseas aid agency, she’d known that was what she wanted to do. Oh, she loved her job and derived a great deal of satisfaction from it, but it was time for a different sort of challenge.

After the interview she’d sat back and waited to hear where she would be sent, but it seemed to have taken months before this phone call had come out of the blue that morning. Now she could hardly wait to hear all the details.

‘So where exactly are we going?’ Meg asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the table where the phone was precariously balanced on top of a pile of textbooks, and grimaced when she saw the sparkle in her deep blue eyes.

She looked as excited as a sixteen-year-old being asked out on her first date rather than a mature, worldly woman of twenty-six being given details of her next professional assignment! She had to learn to contain her enthusiasm, but it was hard to maintain a calm front even though she sensed that Jack Trent would prefer that kind of approach…

‘Sorry?’ She suddenly realised that he’d said something, and hurried to get her thoughts back on track. It certainly wouldn’t reassure him if she started daydreaming!

‘Oncamba. I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of the place. Not many people have. It’s a tiny state in south-eastern Africa, the merest pinprick on your map if you want to check out its location.’

Jack Trent’s tone was level as his voice flowed down the telephone line—cool, concise, impersonal, like the man himself. Meg had a sudden mental image of him sitting in his immaculately tidy office, and was glad that video phones were still very much in the future. She could just imagine how those chiselled lips would curl disdainfully if he got a glimpse of the chaotic state of her flat, not to mention the way she was dressed that morning.

She bit back a chuckle as she glanced down at the misshapen black T-shirt—a cast-off from her brother—that she was wearing with jeans which had holes in both knees, and mentally compared it with what Jack Trent had been wearing the one and only time they’d met. He’d been resplendent in a severely cut black suit and pristine white shirt, a soberly patterned tie adding the finishing touch to the picture of professionalism he’d presented.

The fact that the clothes had suited his austerely handsome looks had been more by accident than design, Meg suspected. Jack Trent certainly hadn’t struck her as a man who worried about his image, although admittedly he’d left a lasting impression on her. More than once in the months since that interview she’d found herself bringing him to mind, as she was doing now.

Meg cleared her throat, not sure why the realisation made her feel so uneasy. ‘I see. I take it that background information on the state is rather limited in that case?’

‘I’m afraid so. However, I can let you have what information I’ve managed to get hold of if you’re interested?’

His tone implied that he couldn’t imagine why she should be, and Meg bridled, mentally and physically. Of course she was interested! She was going to be working in the country, wasn’t she?

‘That would be a great help,’ she replied, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. ‘I would prefer not to go there without knowing anything at all about the people and their culture. It would make for a bad start to my mind.’

‘You’re quite right.’ Jack Trent’s tone had softened slightly and Meg bit her lip as she heard the mellifluous tones flowing down the line. She’d never realised before what a beautiful voice he had, although it was hardly surprising when up till now he’d only ever used that impersonal tone when speaking to her. It was an effort to concentrate as he continued.

‘When you’re working overseas you must always take account of local cultural practices. It’s vital that we don’t try to impose our views on the people we are treating as it can be extremely detrimental at the end of the day. The last thing we want to do is to end up alienating those we are trying to help.’

‘I agree. I imagine it can be tempting to try to dictate how things should be done, but you must have to remind yourself constantly that what is acceptable in Britain might be totally unacceptable in another culture,’ Meg replied firmly.

‘Exactly. I’m pleased you understand that.’

Pleased and surprised? Meg frowned as she wondered if she’d imagined that edge in Jack Trent’s voice. She didn’t think so. He had been surprised by her correct assessment of the situation, and her heart sank as she found herself wondering if he was one of those doctors who didn’t hold nurses in very high esteem.

She had worked with a few doctors like that in her time, men mainly, who believed that all a nurse was good for was to carry out their instructions. The idea that a nurse could be an intelligent, thinking professional in her own right was beyond them. However, if Jack Trent was of that ilk then she would make sure that he soon changed his ideas. She was nobody’s handmaiden, neither was her only role in life to be at his beck and call!

‘Oh, I assure you there won’t be any problems in that area, Dr Trent,’ she replied coolly. ‘I’m well aware of the pitfalls of working in a developing country and intend to avoid them.’

‘Really?’ He sounded amused now, although Meg found herself unable to share the joke when she sensed it was at her expense.

‘Yes, really,’ she repeated firmly, feeling her temper move a notch up the scale, which in itself was a rare occurrence. Her good temper and patience were legendary in Dalverston General, her ability to rise above the trivial everyday annoyances which came with the job one of her strengths. It surprised her that Jack Trent had managed to get under her skin to such an extent.

She took a steadying breath, deliberately wiping all traces of emotion from her voice as she continued, ‘I know that I don’t have any hands-on experience of working overseas yet, but I’ve given this enough thought to feel fairly confident that I’ll avoid the more obvious mistakes.’

‘I’m sure you have given it some thought. However, you may find that any preconceived ideas you have will be totally at odds with what the reality of working in a developing country is like.’ His tone was once more impersonal. ‘I suggest that you wait until you get there before formulating your ideas, Ms Andrews. That way you won’t be either disappointed or shocked by what you find.’

‘Meaning what exactly, Dr Trent? That I don’t understand that we shall be working under extreme conditions? That I’m not prepared for the ugliness of poverty and disease?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Or that I have some romantic notion about going to Africa to play the ministering angel?’

‘I meant exactly what I said, that it would be wiser to wait until you get there before deciding on the best approach to the job.’

There was no hint of annoyance in his voice, Meg noted, biting back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. If he’d picked up on her irritation then he certainly hadn’t taken any notice of it!

She took a deep breath before she spoke, realising that it would be foolish to promote a confrontation at this stage in their relationship. It certainly wouldn’t help to improve Jack Trent’s opinion of her, that was for sure.

‘I shall bear that in mind, Dr Trent,’ she replied coolly. ‘I’m very much aware that I’m the newcomer to the team so I shall be happy to follow your advice.’

‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. One of the things I must stress, Ms Andrews, is that we all work very closely when we are overseas. Teamwork is all important and there’s no time to pander to anyone’s ego.’

His tone was authoritative. Meg could picture him sitting behind his desk, his dark grey eyes full of that self-assurance which had been so evident at her interview as he’d set about making sure that she’d understood the ground rules. Where work was concerned, Jack Trent wasn’t prepared to compromise but, then, she sensed that he wouldn’t be prepared to do so in other areas of his life either…

Meg cut short that thought because there was absolutely no basis for thinking it. She knew nothing about the wretched man’s personal life, neither did she want to! All she wanted was to be part of the team and be given the chance to put her skills to good use.

‘I don’t have any difficulty with that concept, Dr Trent. And I assure you that I’m well used to working as part of a team. However, to go back to what you were saying about Oncamba, is it possible that you could let me have whatever information is available before we leave?’

‘Certainly. As time is at a premium I suggest that I fax the details to where you work. I take it that won’t cause any problems?’ he suggested levelly.

‘Not at all. Everyone at Dalverston General has been extremely supportive about me joining the agency. The management and the board of trustees have assured me that my job isn’t at risk and that I shall be granted leave of absence whenever I’m asked to go overseas,’ Meg assured him. ‘If you could fax the information through to Roger Hopkins, the hospital manager, he will make sure I get it. I think I gave you the phone number at my interview.’

‘You did. I have it here.’ There was a rustle of papers before Jack Trent said, ‘So, if you’re absolutely certain that you’ll be ready in time to come, that’s just about it. I take it that your jabs are up to date and that you have a current passport?’

‘Of course,’ Meg replied stiffly, wondering if he thought her a complete idiot. Naturally, she’d wasted no time in having all the necessary inoculations as soon as she’d learned that she’d been accepted by the agency…unless he was looking for a reason not to let her go with him even at this late stage?

The thought was more than a little disquieting but she chose to keep it to herself. What was the point in asking him when he would most probably deny it? Yet the thought that Jack Trent didn’t really want her along on this trip wasn’t the most auspicious of starts. She made up her mind that before it was over she would convince him that he’d been wrong to have doubts about her or her name wasn’t Megan Louise Andrews!

‘Right. Then all that needs to be sorted out is your visa, and I shall get onto that straight away now that I know you are definitely coming.’

Jack Trent’s authoritative tones cut through her musings. Meg brought her thoughts back on track once more, afraid that she would miss some vital bit of information and thereby prove him right to have reservations about her suitability. She was going to have to be very much on her mettle from now on, it seemed.

‘We fly out from Manchester airport on Thursday at six p.m., which means you’ll need to be there at least two hours beforehand to check in. Keep any personal luggage to an absolute minimum, though. Although we’ve been given free cargo space on the aircraft, we need every bit of it for our equipment.’

‘We’re taking everything with us?’ she queried, trying to imagine the logistics of packing enough supplies for a trip like this.

‘Not quite everything.’ Jack Trent’s tone had softened once more, and Meg’s finely drawn brows rose when she heard the thread of excitement it held now. It seemed a contradiction in terms—Jack Trent displaying excitement about anything—so her interest was immediately piqued.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, trying to imagine how he would look with a smile softening those chiselled lips. Her heart gave a small bump when she found it only too easy to imagine it, and she bit her lip, not sure why the picture that had formed in her mind was so unsettling. Jack Trent was handsome all right and she didn’t dispute it, but she certainly wasn’t attracted to him. The idea was ridiculous! However, it took several seconds before the beguiling image of his smiling face faded from her mind, and a couple more before she realised that he was speaking.

‘I didn’t think it would be ready on time but they pulled out all the stops. There’s everything we need on board…consulting rooms, two operating theatres, even a small hospital bay if we need to keep any patients under observation, plus all the facilities to cater to our personal needs, of course.’

‘On board…I’m sorry but I don’t understand. On board what exactly?’ Meg queried bemusedly.

He laughed deeply, the rich sound flowing down the line and making her heart flutter again. ‘Sorry. I’ve lived with this night and day for almost a year now so I forget that other people aren’t as clued up on this project as I am. We shall be using a converted steam train as our base while we are over there. It means that we shall be able to travel throughout the country and see far more patients than we could normally have done.’

‘A steam train!’ Meg couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice and she heard him laugh again.

‘I know! Sounds incredible, doesn’t it? Evidently, the train was shipped to Oncamba during the early part of the century and used for many years. However, it was left to rust until the new ruler discovered it when he came to power a couple of years ago. It’s thanks to his determination to do something to help his people that this whole venture has got off the ground, in fact.’

Jack’s voice was filled with admiration. ‘He contacted the agency and asked for help, suggesting that if enough money could be raised then the engine would be the perfect means of getting around the country. Evidently, most of the roads had fallen into such a state of disrepair during the previous ruler’s time that travelling about is a nightmare. We in turn contacted various charities and the outcome was enough money to have the train fitted out to our specifications.’

He paused and she wasn’t deaf to the sudden flatness of his tone, such a marked contrast to the enthusiasm he’d shown just moments earlier. ‘So, Ms Andrews, the Oncamba Angel will be not only your place of work but where you will eat, sleep and live for the next three months. While it will be better than working in a hut somewhere in the bush, it certainly won’t be luxurious by western standards, so are you sure that you still want to come along?’

‘That sounds almost as though you’re expecting me to say no!’

Meg laughed but she could hear the edge in her voice and knew that Jack Trent must have heard it, too. Suddenly she didn’t care what he thought, whether or not he would prefer her to take a coolly professional approach. Anger rippled through her as she held the receiver closer, wanting to be sure that he understood what she was saying.

‘Yes, I want to come, Dr Trent, and, no, the thought of the lack of luxury doesn’t bother me. You may be surprised to know that the only thing I’m interested in is doing this job to the very best of my ability. That’s the reason I signed up with the agency, so that I could—in some small way—make a difference to the lives of people who desperately need help.’

She took a small breath, aware that she was trembling after her impassioned outburst. What Jack Trent thought of it she had no idea because it was a few moments before he spoke, and even then his tone gave away nothing about his feelings.

‘In that case I shall look forward to seeing you on Thursday, Ms Andrews. Goodbye.’

He’d hung up before she could reply. Meg slowly replaced the receiver, wishing momentarily that she hadn’t said what she had. But why not? She’d meant every word and she hoped that Dr Jack Trent had taken note of it. Whether he liked the idea or not, she would be at the airport on Thursday. She could hardly wait!

‘Jack Trent! Not the Jack Trent I saw on television last night?’

Meg was on a late that day and had been getting changed to go on duty when her friend, Maggie Carr, arrived for work. Meg had just finished regaling Maggie with what had happened that morning and had to admit that she was surprised by what her friend had said.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t watch television last night because I made a start on painting the kitchen,’ she replied, frowning.

Maggie dragged her sweater over her head then shook back her hair. She and Meg were complete opposites in colouring. Maggie’s olive skin and black hair hinted at her Mediterranean ancestry whereas Meg, with her long blonde hair, delicately fair complexion and deep blue eyes, was a typical English rose. Now Meg hid a smile as she saw her friend roll her eyes in a gesture reminiscent of her Italian mother. They were opposites in temperament as well as looks—because if she was noted for her even temper then Maggie was renowned for her fiery one!

‘Typical! I might have known you’d miss it!’ Maggie declared, stepping into a pair of blue cotton uniform pants. ‘Anyway, it has to be the same guy—tall, good-looking, extremely good-looking, in fact, all sort of mean and moody, if you know what I mean?’

Meg raised her brows. ‘Mean and moody? I don’t know if that’s how I would have described him, although, on second thoughts, maybe you’re right.’

She pulled a blue cotton V-necked top over her head and smoothed it down her slim hips. ‘He certainly didn’t come across as all that welcoming when I spoke to him this morning. In fact, I got the distinct impression that Dr Trent had reservations about asking me to go on this trip.’

‘Really?’ Maggie was brushing her hair but she stopped to stare at Meg. ‘Why do you say that? I mean, you’ve loads of experience thanks to working on the surgical wards and, from what I heard him saying last night, surgery is going to play a major part on this trip. Isn’t he some sort of eye specialist?’

‘That’s right. Evidently, he works at St Augustine’s as well as being a director of the aid agency. He’s head of the ophthalmology unit there. I believe he also spends a lot of his time lecturing, both here and abroad.’

‘Busy man from the sound of it. Must make it difficult for him to find time for a private life.’ Maggie twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it in place. ‘Pity! He looked rather a dish to me, but you can’t go by appearances, can you? You tell him where to get off, Meg, if he tries giving you a hard time. To my mind, he’s lucky to have got you!’

Meg laughed as she slid her feet into a pair of comfortable rubber-soled clogs. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence! Can I have it in writing, please, just in case I need it in the next three months?’

‘You aren’t really worried that you might?’ Maggie had been heading out of the staffroom door but she paused to look worriedly at her friend. Meg shrugged, feigning a nonchalance she wished she felt as she slipped past her friend and hurried towards the ward.

‘Not really,’ she fibbed, pushing open the swing doors and smiling at Mrs Watkins who was in the first bed. ‘As you say, I’ll soon put Jack Trent in his place.’

‘Attagirl! Good morning, Mrs Watkins. How are you today?’ Maggie asked as they both automatically stopped beside the middle-aged woman’s bed. Joan Watkins loved to chat, and all the staff made a point of stopping to have a word with her whenever they could spare the time. A widow whose grown-up children lived abroad, she had few visitors to break the monotony of her day.

She had been admitted as an emergency case, suffering from an obstruction of the colon. A temporary colostomy had been performed until she was well enough to have the blocked section removed, and all the staff had been impressed by her cheerfulness and positive attitude. Now she looked curiously at Meg.

‘Morning, girls. Who were you talking about just now? Your boyfriend, was it, love? Is he giving you a hard time, then?’

Meg chuckled wryly. ‘No, he isn’t my boyfriend! He’s someone I’m going to be working with for the next few months.’ She quickly filled Joan in on the details of her trip, smiling when the woman shuddered.