“I’m your Christmas present.”

“Excuse me?” Blake asked his new patient.

“I bet you never had a Christmas present like me before.” The woman smiled.

“You’re pregnant,” he stated.

“Yes, I’m pregnant. Great work for noticing.”

“Have you come to see me about your pregnancy, Miss McKenzie?”

“It’s Dr. McKenzie. And I’m your Christmas present.”

“Just explain,” Blake said.

“Your friends Jonas and Emily have organized it all with the hospital board. They’re giving you a holiday and I’ll take over.”

“It’s a very nice idea,” Blake forced out. “But it’s impossible. You can’t just take over my Christmas. I see fifty patients a day!”

“Fifty? Okay, maybe I can’t. But maybe I can share it.”

“What?”

“Well, maybe we could have a Christmas to remember. Together.”

Dear Reader,

Christmas is my very favorite time of the year. From the first rendition of “Jingle Bells” in my local supermarket—that’s usually about September—I’m tingling with anticipation. My kids’ school runs a Christmas cake drive and I’m a volunteer cook (or maybe that should read volunteered—thanks, kids!), so by October my house is full of the smells of Christmas and I’m aching to put up the tree.

When I was asked to write a Christmas romance I didn’t need any encouragement. I sat down immediately to think up a nice Christmassy plot. What would I like for Christmas? That’s easy. It’s what I always want—a very special Christmas surprise.

So that’s what I’ve given my gorgeous Dr. Blake. A surprise in the form of his very own Christmas angel.

I do hope you enjoy Dr. Blake and his angel. Blessings on you and yours—and have a very happy Christmas.

Marion Lennox

Dr. Blake’s Angel
Marion Lennox

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

BRANDY SAUCE

CHAPTER ONE

‘I’M NOT a patient. I’m your Christmas present.’

Right…

The woman had glossy, copper-red hair. She was wearing purple patchwork overalls, a pink T-shirt and pink flowery sandals. She was also heavily pregnant.

Dr Blake Sutherland still had urgent house calls to do. He’d promised Grace Mayne he’d visit her tonight and the elderly fisherwoman was already waiting. He’d been up since dawn, he was exhausted and now he had a nutcase on his hands.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I bet you’ve never had a Christmas present like me.’ The woman’s bright smile exuded happiness.

Who on earth was she? Blake didn’t have a clue. She’d arrived an hour ago, settled to wait for his last afternoon appointment and had been placidly reading old copies of Rich and Famous until he’d found time to see her.

His Christmas present…

On reflection, he decided to ignore what she’d said and try again. ‘You’re pregnant.’ He sat back and did a slow assessment. She was at least seven months, he guessed, or maybe more. She was glowing with the health most women found in late stages of pregnancy, and she looked…lovely?

Lovely was as good a way as any to describe her, he decided as he took in her startling appearance. Her riot of copper curls was close cropped but not enough to stop the rioting. Her freckled face was enhanced by huge green eyes, and she had the most gorgeous smile…

Oh, for heaven’s sake! Ignore the smile. She also had a problem or she wouldn’t be here.

‘Yes, I’m pregnant. Great work for noticing.’ She chuckled. It was a nice, throaty chuckle that went beautifully with her eyes. ‘Em said you were a brilliant doctor, and you’ve just proved it. Pregnant, hey?’ She patted her tummy. ‘Well, well. Who’d have guessed it?’

He had the grace to smile. ‘I’m sorry, but—’

‘I guess since I’m pregnant you have two gifts for the price of one—but maybe the outer package is the only useful bit. That’s me.’

She was a nutcase! But she was pregnant and she may well have medical needs. He needed to step warily. The worst medical mistakes were made when doctors were tired, and he didn’t intend to toss her out unchecked because she was a bit unbalanced.

‘Have you come to see me about your pregnancy?’ He glanced at her naked ring finger and took a punt. ‘Miss…’ Another glance to the card his receptionist had given him. ‘Miss McKenzie.’

‘It’s Dr McKenzie,’ she told him. ‘Or Nell if you prefer.’ Her smile deepened and she held out her hand in greeting. Dazed, he took it. ‘Nell’s better. Dr McKenzie always makes me feel like someone’s talking to my grandfather.’

Her hand was warm and firm. His hand was shaken and released and that was how he felt. Shaken.

This conversation was way out of line, he decided. He didn’t have a clue what was going on. ‘Miss… Doctor…’

‘Hey, you are exhausted,’ she said, on a note of discovery. ‘Emily and Jonas told me you were. They said you really, really needed me, and after an hour in your waiting room I’m starting to see that they’re right.’

‘Look, Miss—’

‘Doctor,’ she reminded him, and she smiled again. It was some smile. It was a smile that lit parts of the room he hadn’t even known were dark.

He sat back and let his tired eyes assess her. She really was wearing the most amazing outfit. She looked exceedingly cute, he decided. And her red hair gleamed. Actually, all of her gleamed! She sort of beamed all over…

‘Doctor, then.’ He continued his visual assessment but his mind was working overtime.

She was right, he thought. He was exhausted. This town had far too much work for one doctor and the weeks before Christmas had seen things go haywire. It was the start of the silly season, and whatever happened in the town, the consequences usually ended up here. In his surgery.

That included barmy pregnant ladies who said they were doctors…

‘Can I ask—?’

‘I think you should.’ She rested her hands lightly on her very pregnant tummy. ‘Ask away. Or I can explain by myself if you’d rather.’

‘Go ahead,’ he said faintly, and her smile deepened.

‘You promise not to rope me into a strait-jacket?’

‘I promise no such thing.’ Her smile was infectious. Somehow he found the corners of his mouth twitching in response. ‘But I’ll listen.’

That was better! Nell settled further back into her chair and relaxed. He seemed nice, she thought. And he was younger than she’d expected. Jonas and Emily had described him as best they could but it had hardly been a comprehensive description.

‘Blake’s in his mid-thirties,’ Em had told her. ‘He’s got the most gorgeous gold-brown hair and smily brown eyes. Creasy eyes, if you know what I mean. Nice. They’re tired creased as well as laughter creased but I guess you’d expect that after what he’s gone through. And what he’s going through. His life’s all medicine. Work, work and more work. Except his marathon running—though how he finds the time to fit that in is anyone’s guess.’

Emily had sighed as she’d described him. ‘You’ll like him, Nell. You must. Anyone would. It’s a damned shame…’ She’d hauled herself back on track. ‘No matter. But what else? Oh, he’s tall. Over six feet. He’s taller than Jonas.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ Jonas had interrupted then, cutting across his wife with good humour. ‘Nell wants a medical description—not the sort of description you’d find in the lonely hearts column.’ Jonas had grimaced his disgust, and Nell had grinned.

‘OK, Jonas. What would you tell me about him?’

‘He’s a great guy. He likes beer.’

‘Gee, that’s useful,’ Nell retorted, and both the women had chuckled.

‘Well, he’s a really talented surgeon,’ Jonas told her, in a valiant attempt to fill in the bits his wife had left out. ‘His training is in vascular as well as general surgery, so Sandy Ridge is lucky to have him. He’s one caring doctor, with far more skills than the normal country doctor possesses. But Em’s right. He drives himself into the ground.’

‘Which is where you come in,’ Em had added.

Which was where Nell came in. She’d gone to visit her friends and she’d ended up here.

So now Nell faced Blake Sutherland across the desk and she knew what she had to say. ‘It’s as I told you,’ she said blandly. ‘I’m your Christmas present. Take me or leave me, but I’m here, to use as you will.’

Blake Sutherland was not often flummoxed, but he was flummoxed now. And he was also so tired that he was having trouble understanding what was in front of him.

Sandy Ridge was an isolated medical community. Thirty miles to the north, the marriage of Jonas Lunn and Emily Mainwaring had given Bay Beach good medical cover, and his two friends gave him his only time off, but it wasn’t enough.

That was the way he liked it, he’d told himself over and over through the two years he’d been here. He liked being a country doctor, and he liked being on his own. It was just every so often that he felt snowed under.

Like now. Like when he had the Christmas rush and a crazy pregnant stranger to cope with, and too many house calls after that.

‘You’d better explain a bit more,’ he managed, and Nell’s smile softened into sympathy.

‘Can I get you a cup of tea while I do?’

A cup of tea? She’d booked in as his patient and she was offering him cups of tea?

‘Thank you, but no.’

‘You look like you need it.’

What he needed was to get out of here. He needed to do his house calls, see Grace Mayne and then he needed to sleep—for about a hundred years!

‘Can you just tell me what the problem is, and let me get on with my day?’ he said wearily. ‘Have you filled in a new patient summary?’ He lifted a form and held it up without hope. Marion should have insisted she fill it out. He had no idea why she hadn’t.

‘Fill out a form when I could read ancient copies of Rich and Famous magazine?’ Nell grinned. ‘Why would I do that? I’ve been learning all about Madonna’s love life, and very interesting it is, too. Much more gripping than anything I could write on a stupid form. And I’m not a new patient.’

‘Then would you mind telling me what the heck you are?’

‘I’m trying,’ she complained. ‘But you keep interrupting. I’m your Christmas present.’

‘My Christmas present.’

‘Yes.’

Blake sat back and gazed at this extraordinary purple and pink vision and he had trouble convincing himself he wasn’t hallucinating.

‘You’re not gift-wrapped,’ he said cautiously, and received a grin for his pains.

‘That’s the trouble with being so pregnant. It’s hard to find enough wrapping paper.’ She hesitated. ‘You don’t think we could find a pub where we could talk about this, do you?’

‘Why do we need a pub?’

‘It’s just… Maybe we need a Christmas tree and some mistletoe and a bit more atmosphere.’

‘Just explain.’ It was a growl but he was at the end of his tether.

And she realised it. Nell spread her hands and she smiled across the desk at him—her very nicest smile.

‘It’s simple,’ she told him. ‘Your friends, Jonas and Emily, the doctors at Bay Beach…’

‘I know who Jonas and Emily are.’

‘Then you’ll also know that they’re very grateful to you for giving them time off when they need it. But you won’t reciprocate, and with the sudden popularity of Sandy Ridge as a tourist destination your workload’s become huge. So now…’

‘So now?’

‘They’re repaying the favour. They’re giving you a holiday. Four weeks, to be precise. Jonas was hoping to come himself but, with Robby recovering from his latest skin graft and another baby on the way, they don’t want to leave each other over Christmas. When I said I was coming here…’

‘You were coming here?’ He was clutching at straws.

‘Sandy Ridge is my home,’ she told him. His look of incredulity seemed to annoy her. ‘I might not have lived here for ten years, but I own the house out on the bluff. It’s my home now. Or it will be soon. I intend to do it up and live in it.’

‘But—’

‘Yeah, there’s the but,’ she acknowledged. ‘The place is a mess. I need to put a landmine under it to clear out the junk, and I need a base while I do it. That’s where you come in. I’m only seven months pregnant so I’m good for at least another four weeks’ work. Em said you needed someone now, so she and Jonas organised with your hospital board to pay me locum wages for four weeks. That means you, Dr Sutherland, can take yourself off for a Christmas holiday, and leave me with your responsibilities. All of them.’

To say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. To walk away for four weeks…

No.

‘The thing’s impossible. I don’t know what Jonas and Emily are thinking of.’

‘They’re thinking of you.’

‘I can’t go away.’

‘Why not?’ She smiled at him and her wide eyes were innocent. ‘I’m very well qualified. Ring Sydney Central and they’ll tell you. I worked with Jonas before he was married—that’s how we met.’ She arched her eyebrows, knowing before she said it that her next statement was hardly likely to be believed. ‘In fact, I’m a very responsible doctor. Until last week I was in charge of Sydney Central Emergency.’

This was crazier and crazier. ‘So why aren’t you now?’

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little bit pregnant.’ She was talking to him as if he was stupid, and that was how he felt. ‘I’m moving on. The new registrar can start work now, and Jonas said you needed me.’ She smiled. ‘So I came. If I’d left it much longer I could have dropped my bundle on your doorstep, and I wouldn’t be much use to you with a baby in arms. Or not for a while.’

Blake took a deep breath. ‘So let me get this straight. You’ve quit your job early specifically so you can give me four weeks’ leave?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And you’re just going to walk in here and take over?’

‘That’s the plan.’

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I can’t just walk out.’

‘I expect it’ll take a day or two to hand over.’

‘You couldn’t do it.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she retorted. ‘If you can cope with the medical needs of the town, I don’t see why I can’t.’

‘Hell!’

‘Why is it hell?’ It was a polite enquiry—nothing more.

‘You don’t know anybody.’

She had an answer to that, too. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I lived here for the first seventeen years of my life so I imagine I know more people in the district than you do.’

He shook his head again, trying to clear the fog of weariness and confusion. ‘Jonas and Em have paid you?’ It came out an incredulous croak and she smiled.

‘And the hospital board. Yes, indeed. An obscene amount.’ She chuckled. ‘No more than I’m worth, of course, but an obscene amount for all that.’ She made her lips prim. ‘I expect you’ll have to write them a very nice thank-you note.’

He stared at her, baffled. ‘You have it all sorted.’

‘Of course.’

‘The fact that you’re pregnant didn’t enter your calculations as something that needs to be factored in?’

‘I’m a very fit pregnant doctor,’ she told him.

Silence.

‘The idea’s stupid,’ he said at last, and she shook her head.

‘It’s not stupid at all. Your hospital board have approved it. They’re the ones who employ me—not you. I don’t see you have much choice.’

He thought it through. On the surface it seemed fine. Only… ‘Do you have any idea how many patients I see in a day?’

‘I guess…a lot?’

‘I’ve seen fifty today.’

‘Fifty.’ For the first time, her confidence ebbed a little. ‘Fifty!’

‘That’s not including hospital rounds, and not including house calls. It’s peak holiday season and I’m snowed under. I started at six this morning, I don’t expect to be finished before eleven and if I’m unlucky—and I’m nearly always unlucky—there’ll be calls out during the night.’

‘Good grief!’

‘If you took it on—’

‘I must.’ She might be dismayed but she was still game. ‘I made a bargain.’

‘If you took it on you’d drive your blood pressure sky high. You’d give yourself eclampsia and I’d have a dead baby—and maybe even a dead mother on my hands. You think I want that?’

‘Hey, that’s a bit extreme.’

‘Go home, Dr McKenzie,’ Blake said wearily. He raked his hand through his hair. It verged on being too long, Nell thought inconsequentially, but, then, why shouldn’t it be long? He had the loveliest hair. It was sort of sun-bleached brown with streaks of frost, and it was thick and curling. His strongly boned face, his tanned skin and deep brown eyes made him almost stunningly good-looking.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! What was she thinking of? Get a grip! she told herself. Focus on what’s important.

‘Home’s here,’ she said softly, and watched as his startled gaze met hers.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’ve moved here. For ever. I want to have my baby here.’

‘You want to deliver your baby in Sandy Ridge?’ The idea was ridiculous. People didn’t come to Sandy Ridge to have their babies. They left Sandy Ridge to have babies. With only one doctor, maternity was frankly dangerous.

He was shocked into saying the first thing that came into his head, and as soon as he said it he knew it wasn’t wise, but it came out anyway. ‘And the baby’s father? What does he think of you moving here?’

She glared at that. Then her eyes fell to his hand. To a gold band on his ring finger.

‘And your wife?’ She used the same tone he’d used on her, and it was frankly accusing. Their eyes locked across the desk, anger meeting anger. ‘What does your wife think of you working yourself into the ground? Or isn’t your personal life any of my business? OK, Dr Sutherland.’ Her glare grew angrier. ‘You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.’

His gaze fell first. ‘Touché,’ he said lightly, but she knew the word wasn’t meant lightly at all. He’d been touched on the raw.

As had she. Damn, she wasn’t going to feel sorry for the man. Or for herself. She was here to take over his responsibilities for a month and then get out of his life. But…

‘How many patients a day did you say?’ she asked faintly, and his mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile.

‘Fifty.’

It gave her pause. ‘I don’t think I can—’

‘I don’t think you can either.’ He rose. ‘So it was a very nice idea, from you and from Jonas and Emily and the hospital board. But it’s impractical and impossible. I’ll ring them and thank them—as I thank you—but I think we should leave it at that. Don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘I told Jonas and Emily that I’d give you a decent Christmas.’

‘And I’ve said it’s impossible. You can’t take over my Christmas.’

‘No,’ she said slowly, and her chin jutted into a look of sheer stubbornness. ‘OK. Maybe I can’t. But maybe I can share it.’

‘What?’

‘Maybe somehow we could have a Christmas to remember. Together.’

Nell wouldn’t be budged. No matter how many arguments he raised, she countered them.

‘You need a rest. You know you do.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘You know very well that a tired doctor is a dangerous doctor.’

‘I can—’

‘You can’t. No one can. When you’re tired, your judgement’s impaired. That’s why Jonas and Emily are worried about you.’

‘Did they say my judgement was impaired?’

‘Not yet. But it will be.’

‘For heaven’s sake, this is ridiculous.’

‘What’s ridiculous,’ she said serenely, ‘is you continuing to argue with me.’

‘I don’t even know you,’ he threw at her, goaded. ‘You walk in here like some outlandish—’

And that had been the wrong thing to say!

‘You don’t like my overalls?’ She stood up, her eyes flashing fire. ‘You don’t like my gorgeous patchwork overalls? And you’re judging me on them? How dare you? Of all the intolerant, prejudiced, male chauvinist—’

‘I didn’t say anything about your overalls,’ he said weakly, but she stalked around the desk and advanced on him.

‘Outlandish! What about me is outlandish except for my overalls?’

‘Your temper?’ he tried.

That brought her up short. She stopped a foot away from Blake and she glared.

‘You meant my overalls.’

‘They’re…they’re wonderful.’

‘I made them myself.’

‘Like I said—’

‘They’re wonderful,’ she agreed, her eyes narrowing. ‘Not outlandish.’

‘I…not outlandish.’

‘You’re not colour prejudiced?’

‘I like pink. And purple…’

‘That’s enough. There’s no reason to go overboard.’ Nell glared some more. ‘Do we have a deal, Dr Sutherland, or do I go to the medical board and say you won’t employ me because of stupid prejudices about pregnancy and patchwork pants?’

‘I’m not employing you.’

‘No. The hospital board is. And they already have. So if I’m now unemployed then I’ve been sacked and you’re the one that’s doing it. So I’m right. Prejudice…’

‘I’m not prejudiced.’

‘You want a quiet Christmas?’

‘Yes.’ How would he get a quiet Christmas if this virago was in town?

‘Then do what we want. Let me share your load. Let me take on as much as I can, while you enjoy mince pies and mistletoe to the max.’

‘I can’t.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Look. Miss McKenzie—’

‘Doctor!’ It was an angry snap. ‘Think it through. Think of what you’re refusing.’

He took another breath, but still she glared at him. Her anger gave him pause. It made him stop and count to ten…

And counting to ten helped. It did give him time to think.

‘Um…’ he said, and she homed right in on it.

‘Yes?’

She was deadly serious, he saw. She really was intending to live in the place. ‘Maybe you could just do morning clinics for a bit,’ he said weakly. That might get her out of his hair.

And maybe it’d even be a good idea.

It was a generous offer Jonas and Em had made. So maybe he should accept. If this woman could take on his morning work then he’d have only a normal day’s work left to do himself.

She considered what he’d said and her anger faded. A little. ‘It’s a start,’ she said grudgingly, sinking back into her chair and watching him across the desk. ‘But I’ve been paid to work.’ She brightened. ‘I can take every second night’s house calls.’

He bit his lip. ‘You can’t. The emergency calls are switched through to my house. It’d be too much trouble to change the system just for a month.’

‘We wouldn’t need to change the system.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because Em told me the situation here is the same as the one at Bay Beach,’ she said sweetly. ‘The hospital has the doctor’s residence attached and it has four bedrooms. They were built at the same optimistic time—when hospital boards imagined doctors might like becoming country practitioners in remote areas. So, that’s a bedroom for you, there’s one for me, there’s one for Ernest and there’s one left for whoever wants to drop in.’

Ernest? Who was Ernest? Another child? A partner?

Blake didn’t want to know. It was irrelevant. ‘You can’t stay with me.’

‘Why ever not?’ Her eyes widened in enquiry. ‘The doctors’ residence is supposed to be for doctors—isn’t it? It’s designed for up to four doctors. There’s two here. Me and you.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘And my house is unlivable. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to do this locum.’

‘Miss McKenzie—’

‘It’s Dr McKenzie,’ she said sweetly. ‘And the board has already given me permission to move in with you. You know, you’re going to have to get used to it. And…you really don’t want to refuse.’

He looked across the desk and met her eyes. She’d calmed down, he realised. The laughter and temper and over-the-top threats had died. What was left was understanding. And sympathy.

And something more?

Something he didn’t understand.

But he didn’t want this woman in his house. He didn’t want anyone in his house.

He didn’t want anyone in his life!

And who was Ernest?

He was saved by the waiting-room bell. Marion, his receptionist, had ushered Nell into his surgery but with the last patient safely with Blake, she’d felt free to leave, so there was no one out there to see what the problem was.

‘I need to see who this is.’

She glowered. ‘There’s no need to sound pleased. We haven’t come to an arrangement.’

‘Afterwards,’ he told her, and opened the door with real relief.

CHAPTER TWO

AS A rescuing angel, Ethel Norris didn’t quite make the grade.

She was a massive woman, weighing close to twenty stone. Normally well groomed and cheerful, she was anything but well groomed now. Her clothes were soiled. Her mass of grey curls looked as if it hadn’t been brushed since she’d climbed out of bed this morning and her cheeks were grubby with tearstains. She looked up as Blake entered the reception area, and the look she gave him said it was the end of her world.

‘Oh, Dr Sutherland. Dr Sutherland…’ She put her face in her hands and sobbed as if her heart were breaking.

‘Hey…Ethel.’ He guided her to a chair and pushed her into it, then knelt before her and pulled her hands away from her face. ‘What is it?’ His eyes were on hers. He was totally focussed on her distress, unaware that Nell had followed him to the door and was watching.

‘I can’t… I couldn’t…’

‘You couldn’t what?’

‘I broke.’ She took a ragged gasp. ‘And I’ve been doing so well. I’ve lost four stone and you were so pleased with me. My clothes have been getting looser and looser, and then all of a sudden I couldn’t go on. I dunno. I sort of snapped. I went out and bought everything I could find. Ice cream. Biscuits…’ She took a searing gulp. ‘Not just one. Tubs and tubs of ice cream. Packets and packets of biscuits. I’ve stuffed myself stupid, and I’ve been sick but not sick enough. I’ll have put all my weight back on and I can’t bear it.’

‘Ethel, you can’t have put it all back on.’

‘I have.’ It was a wail of agony.

‘How long have you been dieting?’ Nell’s voice cut across both of them.

Blake flashed her a look of annoyance but Nell seemed unconcerned. In fact, she appeared not to even notice.

‘You must have been dieting for ever to lose four stone,’ she said in a voice of awe. ‘That’s fantastic.’

Ethel looked up at her, her attention caught. Well, how could it not be caught by purple patchwork?

‘Don’t mind me. I’m just another doctor,’ Nell told her blithely. ‘I’m Dr Sutherland’s new associate. But losing four stone. Wow!’

‘I haven’t—’

‘How long have you been dieting?’

‘Six months.’

‘And this is the first time you’ve cracked?’ Nell’s voice remained awed. ‘Six months of solid dieting! I never heard of such a thing. That’s fantastic.’

‘But now I’ve ruined it.’

‘How have you ruined it?’ Nell’s eyes took in the vastness of the woman’s figure, and her sharp intelligence was working overtime. Ethel must have had a serious eating disorder over many years to account for so much weight. ‘It’s my guess that eating a few tubs of ice cream wasn’t a rare occurrence before you started dieting,’ she said softly. ‘You did it often—right?’

‘Yes. But—’

‘But now you’ve had a day off your diet.’

‘I wasn’t just off my diet.’ The woman wailed. ‘I binged.’

‘Well, I don’t blame you,’ Nell said stoutly. ‘If I’d lost four stone in six months then I’d binge, too.’

‘Dr McKenzie.’ Blake was glaring at her. This was his patient. She had no business butting in.

‘Yes, Dr Sutherland?’ She gave him her sweetest smile. ‘Am I saying what you were about to say? I’m sure I am. I understand all about diets. I’ve been on ’em ever since I was a kid.’

‘You?’ the woman whispered, and Nell chuckled.

‘Yeah, well, I’m not on one now. As you see, I’m a bit pregnant and it’d be bad for baby. But as soon as I stop breastfeeding I’ll be back to dieting. I just have to look at a tub of ice cream and I gain a midriff.’

‘But nothing like me.’

‘But not like you,’ Nell agreed. ‘I’d imagine you and Dr Sutherland have talked about the underlying problems—why you got so big in the first place.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘But nothing.’ Nell crossed to Blake’s side. She stooped and elbowed him aside. ‘Dr Sutherland, this is women’s business.’

He glowered. ‘How can it be women’s business?’

‘Have you ever dieted?’ She looked up and down at his long, lean frame. ‘Marathon man.’

He was taken aback. ‘No.’

‘There you go, then.’ Another sweet smile. Then she turned back to Ethel. ‘You know, losing the amount of weight you need to lose to be healthy is going to take a couple of years.’

‘I know that. That’s why it’s so terrible…’

‘That you broke? No. That’s why it’s understandable. And there’s no way you’ll have gained four stone in a one-day binge. You won’t have come close.’ Nell smiled. ‘You know, I’m watching my weight while I’m pregnant, but I can’t do it all the time. I’d go stark staring mad. So I give myself days off.’

‘Days off?’

‘Like Christmas.’ Nell’s voice was totally serious now. She had eye contact with Ethel and she wasn’t letting go. Woman to woman. ‘Christmas is in two weeks. I can last until then, but I intend to eat way too much on Christmas Day. Far too much. Then on Boxing Day I’ll think how much I enjoyed it and get on with being sensible.’

‘But—’

‘But there’s lots more time to go before you hit an ideal weight,’ Nell agreed. ‘More so for you than for me, but eating sensibly is a lifetime thing for all of us. So I won’t make it impossible for myself again. I’ll promise myself a day off from being sensible on New Year’s Day. Then January fourteenth is my cocker spaniel’s birthday so that’s a day off, too. Because how can he celebrate alone? After that… Well, no one can diet on January twenty-sixth. That’s Australia Day, and it wouldn’t be patriotic! And in February… I’ll think of something to celebrate. There’s bound to be a reason if I put my mind to it.’

The woman caught her breath. Her tears had been arrested. Nell had her fascinated, and Ethel gazed at her purple midriff in awe. ‘You might…you might have your baby. In February, I mean.’

‘So I might,’ Nell said with aplomb, appearing exceedingly pleased. ‘There you go, then. There’s no need to circle the calendar for that one. It’s a ready-made celebration.’

‘It sounds crazy.’

Nell shook her head. ‘No. It sounds logical. You need to see some light at the end of the tunnel. You can’t keep losing weight for years without breaks, and those breaks need to be planned well ahead or you’ll crack again.’

‘But Dr Sutherland says—’

‘Does Dr Sutherland disagree?’ She swung around to face him, and the look she gave him was determined. ‘Surely not? Do you, Dr Sutherland?’

He managed to rise to the occasion. Somehow. ‘Days off seem a very good idea to me,’ he said, and she grinned.

‘See? We have consensus.’ She turned back to Ethel. ‘OK, what are you planning for Christmas dinner?’

‘I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe a fillet of fish.’

‘A lone fish fillet for Christmas dinner?’ Nell sounded appalled. ‘Oh, you poor dear, no wonder you binged. You’re absolutely forgiven and then some. Isn’t she, Dr Sutherland?’

Blake could only gaze at her in astonishment. And agree. There was nowhere else to go. ‘Um…yes.’

‘You need turkey and roast potatoes and cranberry sauce and pudding,’ Nell said solidly. ‘With brandy cream. Not brandy butter. Trust me. I’m an expert on this one. You can’t get enough brandy into brandy butter. I know this fantastic recipe for brandy cream, where’s it’s so alcoholic no one ends up knowing who’s pulled which end of the cracker. I’ll write it out for you if you like.’

‘But—’

‘No buts. I’m sick of buts. You’re ordered to eat as much as you like on Christmas Day.’ Nell’s smile softened. ‘And I’ll bet that, having given yourself permission to eat as much as you like, and with no guilt attached, you won’t eat yourself sick. You’ll just enjoy your food very much indeed. Then, at the end of the day you give the remains of your pudding to an elderly aunt or the town drunk—or even a very appreciative dog. My cocker spaniel will volunteer if no one else comes forward. You drink the rest of your brandy cream as a nightcap, you wish yourself a merry goodnight—and then you go back to dieting the next day. How easy’s that? It’ll work. No sweat.’

Ethel looked wildly at Blake. ‘Will it?’

But Blake was smiling. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he told her. He took a deep breath. It took a big man to admit he was wrong but maybe… ‘Maybe the diet sheet we put you on was a bit harsh long term,’ he told her. ‘Maybe Dr McKenzie is right.’

‘Record this for posterity,’ Nell said, mock-stunned, and Ethel even managed a chuckle.

She looked at the pair of them, and she smiled. ‘You…you will give me that recipe for brandy cream?’

‘Hand over a prescription form,’ Nell ordered Blake. ‘The lady needs urgent medication. I’ll write it up for her now. And, Ethel…’

‘Yes?’

‘If you love cooking and you want to cook more than you and your family can eat, then think about offering treats to the nursing home or to the hospital. Or even me!’ She chuckled. ‘Just don’t give this prescription to the pharmacist. He’ll think Dr Sutherland’s barmy.’

‘I think you’re both barmy,’ Ethel said softly, and for the first time her face relaxed. ‘You’ve made me feel so much better.’

‘Punishing yourself is the pits,’ Nell said strongly. ‘Heck, Ethel, the outside world criticises enough—there’s no good to be gained by criticising yourself. And if you’ve lost four stone you have so much to be proud of.’

‘Thank you.’ Ethel sighed and rose ponderously to her feet. She looked Nell up and down, really seeing her for the first time. Then she cast an uncertain glance at Blake, and another at Nell. ‘Do I know you?’

‘I’m Nell McKenzie. My grandparents owned the place out on the bluff.’

‘Nell McKenzie!’ The woman seemed stunned. ‘Well, I never. You’ve changed so much. And… Did you say you were Dr Sutherland’s new associate?’

‘That’s right.’ Nell beamed at Blake, defying him to deny it.

But Ethel was off on the next track. ‘They’re amazing overalls you’re wearing.’

‘They are, aren’t they?’

‘They look as if they’re made from a quilt.’

‘Funny you should say that,’ Nell told her. ‘They are. From a king-sized quilt.’

‘You cut up a quilt to make overalls?’ Ethel’s voice took on a horror that said she was a patchworker from way back and Nell had just committed a crime somewhere up there with murder. ‘You’re joking!’

‘No.’

‘But why on earth?’

‘I needed overalls much more than I needed a king-sized quilt,’ Nell said in a tone which stated that no more questions were welcome on this score. ‘Enough of that. OK? Let’s get this prescription written and get Christmas on the road.’

Blake left her writing her brandy-cream script and made a fast phone call. Was she really who she said she was?

She said she’d come from Emily and Jonas but he didn’t want to ring his friends yet. He knew the surgical registrar at Sydney Central. It took five minutes to page Daniel, but he came through with the goods straight away.

‘Nell McKenzie? Of course I know her. She’s the best damned doctor we’ve had in Emergency for a long time and we’re going to miss her badly. There’s been pressure on her to put her baby in child care here and keep on working.’

‘Why doesn’t she?’

‘Who knows?’ Daniel hesitated. ‘But it’d be a hard job. Emergency’s relentless, and who knows how much support she has? She’s kept her private life very much to herself. She’s such a mousy little thing that—’

‘Mousy little thing!’ Blake sat back in his chair at that, and frowned. ‘We must have the wrong woman.’

‘Five four-ish high, freckles, red hair hauled back like she’s ashamed of it?’

‘There are similarities, but—’

‘Oh, she’s not mousy around patients,’ Daniel told him. ‘She’s extremely competent and decisive and very, very kind. The patients love her. But…you know…she’s sort of self-effacing. We didn’t even know she had a boyfriend or a husband, and we were stunned when she announced she was pregnant. The nurses had a running joke about immaculate conception.’

‘Good grief.’

‘But if she’s turned up at Sandy Ridge… Hell, Blake, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If you have Nell McKenzie wanting to work with you, then you hang onto her with everything you have. She’s worth her weight in gold.’

A real little work horse. Blake came back out to Reception as Nell waved goodbye to Ethel and gazed at her incredulously. Anything less like a work horse he had yet to meet.

But she was here. She was another doctor and he really was overworked.

Who was Ernest?

It couldn’t matter.

‘All right,’ he managed. ‘All right.’

‘All right what?’

‘All right, you can stay.’

Her smile flashed back into her eyes. ‘Gee, that’s nice of you—and so gracious.’

He glowered. She had him unnerved. ‘I can cope on my own.’

‘I’m sure you can.’ she told him. ‘But you’ll crack eventually. You can’t go on working at this pace for ever.’

‘I have for two years.’

‘And it’s getting to you.’

‘It’s not getting to me.’

‘OK, it’s not getting to you,’ she agreed blithely, and grinned again. ‘You’re coping magnificently. All’s well with the world and I’m doomed to spend four weeks being a pest. But that’s my fate, Dr Sutherland. I know my place in life. Pest extraordinaire. So can we get on with it?’

He was having trouble keeping up with her. ‘What—now?’

‘Take me to where I’m going to live,’ she told him, smiling sweetly. ‘Take me to the doctors’ quarters and then we’ll get on with me being your Christmas present.’

The doctors’ quarters were not to Nell McKenzie’s liking. She took one step through the door and stopped short.

‘How long did you say you’ve been living here?’ she asked in stunned amazement, and Blake gazed around defensively.

‘Two years. It’s not so bad.’

‘It’s awful.’

‘Gee, thanks. If I go into your home, would you be happy if I said it was awful?’

‘I’d hope someone would point it out if it was this bad.’

‘It’s not this bad.’

‘It’s worse.’ She stared around the starkly furnished apartment in distaste.

OK, it wasn’t very good, Blake admitted. The last doctor at Sandy Ridge—Chris Maitland—had lived offsite. When Blake had taken over from Chris two years ago, the doctors’ quarters had contained a stark laminex table with four vinyl chairs, a vinyl couch and a plain bedstead in each room. Oh, and one black and white television. There had been nothing more, and Blake had never had the time or the inclination to turn the place into something else.

‘You can’t live here all the time,’ Nell breathed, and Blake found himself getting more and more annoyed.

‘Of course I do. Where else would I go?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ She stalked over and hauled open the bedroom doors one after the other. The only difference between his bedroom and the others was that Blake’s bed was made up and there was a pile of medical journals on the floor. ‘Very cosy,’ she retorted. She swivelled back to face him. ‘Where’s your Christmas tree?’

‘Why would I need a Christmas tree?’

Why indeed? They gazed at each other, eyes locked, and her gaze was accusatory. Like he’d personally shot Santa Claus!

This time he was saved by his beeper. He looked at the little screen and he sighed. He was needed. It was more work—of course—but his sigh was a sigh of relief.

‘I need to go.’

‘Of course you need to go,’ Nell said cordially. ‘I would too if I stayed in this dump.’

‘You asked to live here.’

‘Nobody lives here. People stay here. There’s a difference. You don’t live on torn green vinyl dining chairs and ugly grey linoleum. You exist.’

‘I’m leaving,’ he told her. ‘I have a patient in hospital who has heart problems, and then I have house calls to make. Make yourself comfortable.’

‘Comfortable? Humph! Ernest will hate this place.’

Who the hell was Ernest? He didn’t have time to find out. ‘Well, ring Jonas and Em and complain about your working conditions,’ he said with asperity. ‘I’m sure the three of you can work it out. You’re all so good at organising.’

‘We are at that.’

He cast her a last, long, dubious look. There were schemes going on behind those sea-green eyes. He could feel their vibes from where he was.

Who was Ernest?

‘Don’t do anything. Just unpack.’

‘And I’ll make myself comfortable,’ she said. ‘It’s what all guests do.’

‘Don’t!’

‘Go, Dr Sutherland,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Go and doctor to those who need doctoring. Leave me to my own devices.’

He didn’t have a choice. He left.

By the time Blake reached Casualty, Harriet Walsingham’s heart had decided to behave.

‘Though it gave me quite a scare, Doctor,’ she said, sitting up and crossing her ankles primly on the ambulance trolley. ‘I came over all funny, I did.’

‘Then you can lie straight down again in case you come over all funny again,’ he told her, pressing her gently back on the pillows and moving his stethoscope into position. ‘What exactly happened?’

‘She was out cold on the kitchen floor,’ one of the ambulance officers told him, and Blake looked a question at the younger of the two men. If something was grey, Henry painted it black.

‘Bob?’

‘She wasn’t unconscious,’ Bob told him truthfully. ‘She was just gasping like a fish out of water and she’d managed to grab the phone and call us.’

‘It’s got to be angina pectoris,’ Henry told him triumphantly. ‘Like I told you when we called. That’s what it’ll be. Won’t it, Doc?

‘Possibly.’ Not for the first time Blake thought longingly of big cities and fully trained paramedics. Henry was the local postman and Bob ran the menswear store. For them, a call for the ambulance meant major excitement in otherwise humdrum lives.

If only they wouldn’t act like would-be doctors, he thought. Half the patients who arrived at the hospital via ambulance had been given an amateur diagnosis on the way, and sometimes it scared the pants off them.

‘What’s angina pectoris?’ Luckily, Harriet wasn’t one to let big words scare her. She was just like the ambulance officers—seemingly grateful for such an interesting event to disrupt her mundane existence. She gave a delicious shiver. ‘Is it dangerous?’ She really was feeling better.

‘It’s when your heart muscle is starved for oxygen,’ Blake told her. ‘But by itself it’s not dangerous. Shush for a minute while I listen.’

They all shushed. For about ten seconds. Then…

‘Can I have our new Dr McKenzie look after me?’ Harriet enquired. ‘No offence, Dr Blake, but I’ve always fancied a lady doctor, and she sounds lovely. I remember her when she was a teenager. She was such a sweet little thing, but so quiet.’

Our new Dr McKenzie… ‘How did you know about Nell?’

‘It’s all over town,’ Harriet told him. ‘It’s so exciting. Lorna is on the hospital board and she told me in strictest confidence. She said no one was allowed to say anything until today because they wanted to surprise you. You must be so pleased. Isn’t it the best Christmas present?’

He took a deep breath. Was the whole town in on this? ‘Harriet, be quiet.’

‘But it is exciting.’

‘I’ll sedate you if you don’t shut up,’ he told her. Angina might be a minor problem, but it could also be a symptom of something major. ‘Let’s get you admitted and get an ECG done.’ He glanced up at the ambulancemen. ‘Thanks, boys.’

‘Think nothing of it.’ The men moved reluctantly off and then stopped. There was clearly something bothering them. ‘How are we going to get to meet our new doctor, then?’ Bob asked. He hesitated. ‘Shouldn’t there be some sort of function to welcome her back? So she can get to know people like us? Except for her grandma’s funeral it’s been over ten years since she was home. We’d hardly recognise her.’

‘She’s only here for four weeks.’

Bob shook his head. ‘Lorna says it might be for longer. If the town’s nice to her—for a change—and if she settles here after the bub’s born, then she might stay.’

‘And if she likes you, Dr Blake.’ Harriet giggled. ‘Not that she couldn’t.’

Blake took a deep breath. This was getting out of hand. A welcome party? ‘We’re hardly likely to find any comers for a welcome party in the weeks before Christmas.’

‘But it’s Nell McKenzie,’ Bob said, as if that made everything different.

‘You’ll have to explain.’

‘The town feels bad about Nell McKenzie,’ Harriet told him. ‘And in a way maybe we should. No one ever did anything.’

‘We couldn’t,’ Henry retorted. ‘We weren’t allowed to.’

‘No, but she was such a little thing. And they were so awful.’

‘Who were so awful?’

‘Her grandparents, of course.’ Then Harriet clutched her chest and her colour faded. ‘Ooh… I think it’s starting again.’

‘Let’s get you through to Intensive Care,’ Blake snapped, annoyed with himself for being diverted. He motioned to the nurse at the head of the trolley. ‘Now.’

Blake refused point-blank to think about Nell for the rest of the evening. Not once. Or not once very much.

Harriet refused to be transferred to Blairglen. Well, why should she leave Sandy Ridge? She was sure Dr Blake would look after her beautifully, just as well as any of the clever doctors at Blairglen, and she thought she was paying Blake a compliment by staying put.

As did all the locals. They refused to take themselves to the major hospital, supremely confident that Dr Blake would look after them.

Dr Blake and whose army? he thought wearily for what must be the thousandth time since he’d taken over here.

But… ‘We don’t need another doctor,’ he found himself telling Grace Mayne as he finally had a cup of tea with the old fisherwoman. Grace’s husband had died just a couple of months ago and she was desperately lonely. Her only son had drowned when he’d been little more than a teenager, and now she had no one.

Blake had liked Grace at first sight. She was tough, wiry, belligerent, and as huge-hearted a woman as he’d ever met. The weeks since her husband’s death had cast her into deep depression, so Blake had found himself dropping in frequently—just to see her. Tonight the last thing he wanted was to socialise, but he forced himself to pause, take a seat at the old lady’s kitchen table and accept her hospitality.

The alternative might be worse, he thought. He’d watched Grace’s face as they’d buried her husband, and he found himself increasingly concerned as to her welfare. There’d been one tragedy after another in the old lady’s life. This last death had left her feeling desolate—so desolate that he wondered how she could keep going. He watched her take her fishing boat out through the heads, and each time he saw the little boat make the run he wondered whether she’d come back.

And if she didn’t, he’d feel dreadful. So he made time to call and chat, even though a million other things were pressing. Tonight the most obvious thing to talk about was Nell. After all, the rest of the town was talking about her. Why not Blake?

And Grace was definitely interested. ‘Nell McKenzie…’ The woman’s sea-bleached eyes narrowed. ‘You mean the lass who was brought up here with Doc and Mrs McKenzie?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘I remember when Nell left for university,’ she said slowly. ‘Haven’t seen her since.’

‘No one has. But it seems she wants to come back here to live.’

Grace thought it through and shook her head in disbelief. ‘I don’t know why. The town made life miserable for her.’

‘Did it?’ Blake was pleased. He’d caused a spark of interest, which was more than the old lady had shown for a long time.

‘Yeah. Or her grandparents did and we didn’t object.’ Grace stared reflectively into her nearly empty teacup and, to Blake’s astonishment, something akin to a smile played around her mouth. ‘Nell McKenzie. Well, well.’

‘Well, well.’ Blake cast a curious glance across the table. ‘You sound like you know her fairly well.’

‘No. No one does. No one was allowed to know her.’

‘Why not?’

But Grace wasn’t answering. She was staring into the dregs of her tea like she was staring into the past, but the smile remained on her face.

At least she wasn’t suicidal tonight, Blake thought thankfully, rising to leave. He’d given her something to think about, even though he didn’t understand why she was so interested.

But at least she was interested, and for that Blake could only be thankful.

It was after midnight when Blake drove home from the last house call and it was all he could do to keep himself awake. He opened the car windows wide, he turned the radio up full blast, but he knew he was still in danger of going to sleep at the wheel.

Back at the hospital he checked on Harriet who was sleeping soundly, hooked up to the heart monitor. If he could keep her quiet she might well stay that way until morning.

It seemed there was a block of some kind, he thought as he examined the results of his tests. There was no evidence of heart-muscle injury on the cardiograph or in the blood tests, but she had a very slow pulse.

She needs a cardiologist, Blake thought, and maybe a pacemaker and he knew it’d take him hours the next morning to convince her that he couldn’t fit her with a pacemaker on his own. She’d have to go to Blairglen.

Finally, almost asleep on his feet, he pushed open the door between the hospital and his living quarters. And he stopped dead.

Nell was waiting for him.

‘You’ve been ages,’ she told him. ‘I knew you’d be late but this is ridiculous.’

‘What?’ He was so exhausted he was having trouble taking it all in.

First of all, Nell had been transformed. No longer in purple overalls, she was now dressed in a bright crimson, floor-length bathrobe. It had rich burgundy lining, it was big enough to wrap around her twice, and she was curled up on the sofa with her bare toes poking out, looking like…

Looking like he didn’t know what.

And what on earth was she sitting on? Where was his horrible settee? Where was his dining setting?

The sofa Nell was sitting on was enormous. It was ancient, a great mass of soft velvet cushions. Like her amazing dressing-gown, it was vivid crimson. It was the sort of sofa you just wanted to sink in and…

And nothing!

‘What have you done to my house?’ he managed, and if his voice came out strangled who could blame him?

‘It’s our house,’ she reminded him gently. ‘As an employed doctor in the town I have just as many rights to this place as you do. Don’t you like it?’ She gazed up at him, a picture of injured innocence. ‘I’ve gone to so much trouble. And do you like my dressing-gown?’ She beamed down at her splendid self. ‘This belonged to Grandpa. Such a waste.’

‘But—’

‘I’ve been so busy…’

‘I can see that.’ He was still taking everything in. What was new?

Everything was new.

The vinyl furniture had disappeared completely. There was now the amazing sofa and a couple of great squishy armchairs. There was a new dining table—or rather an old one—an oak affair that looked as if it had been polished for generations. There were matching dining chairs with scatter cushions. And rugs…three vast Turkish rugs covering almost every available piece of floor space.

There were even pictures on the walls!

‘Did this all come out of your suitcase?’ he enquired, and she chuckled.

‘I just waved my magic wand.’

He glanced at his watch. He’d been away for exactly five hours.

‘You just nipped out to the shops, then. Or called in a decorator?’

‘Well, no.’

‘So would you like to explain?’

‘I went exploring and caught Bob and Henry before they left the hospital.’

He thought that one through. Bob and Henry. He only knew the one Bob and Henry pair. ‘The ambulance drivers?’

‘I know them both from way back,’ she told him. ‘They weren’t ambulance drivers in my day. In fact, I went to school with Bob, and when I showed him the conditions we were expected to live in he was shocked. Both of them were.’

‘He’s given you this stuff?’ Blake’s voice was unbelieving, and Nell giggled.

‘No, silly. It’s from my house.’

‘Your house.’

‘I told you,’ she said patiently. ‘I own a house out on the bluff. It’s ancient, it hasn’t been used for years but it’s full of extremely good stuff. Like this.’ She patted her sofa fondly. ‘I knew it’d be comfortable. I was never allowed to sit on it when I was a kid but, oh, how I wanted to.’

He was distracted—almost—but there were burning questions. ‘How the hell did you get this stuff back here?’

‘The ambulance, of course,’ she said blithely. ‘How else?’

‘You used the ambulance to transport furniture?’ He was gearing himself up to explode.

‘If I hadn’t then I’d have needed the ambulance tomorrow to cart me away for major back repair.’ Her tone was innocence personified. ‘It was a case of preventative medicine, and I’m really good at that. I was determined to get it here, and my little sedan only has a very tiny roof-rack. Anyway, once I explained the situation to Henry and Bob they were only too pleased to help.’ She smiled up at Blake. ‘So we took the stretchers out of the ambulance and went for it. It took us five trips and we’ve only just finished.’

‘And if there’d been an urgent call?’

‘Then they’d have heaved the furniture out and got on with it,’ she told him. ‘Honestly—do you think we’re negligent or something?’

He thought no such thing. He didn’t know what to think. He walked over and sank down into one of the chairs—and promptly stood up again.

One of the cushions had moved! Now it rose, shoving itself to four feet, and it glared at him. What the…?

But Nell was smiling. ‘Um…meet Ernest. Dr Sutherland, Ernest. Ernest, meet Dr Sutherland.’

‘Ernest.’

Who was Ernest? He’d just found out. Blake found himself looking at the most mournful, pathetic bag of bones he’d ever come across in the doggy kingdom. The ancient cocker spaniel, his black and white coat faded with age into indiscriminate grey, was all jowls and floppy ears and huge mournful eyes. He looked up at Blake as if he’d just wounded him to the core.

‘Hey, I didn’t sit on you,’ Blake said before he could help himself. ‘I nearly did but I didn’t.’

The eyes still reproached him.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’

‘Take no notice of him,’ Nell said blithely. ‘Ernest’s greatest skill in life is making people feel guilty, whether they deserve it or not.’

‘He does a great job.’

‘He does.’ Nell grinned. ‘I adopted him because he looked so pathetic. It’s his principal talent and he’s really very good.’ She rose and crossed to give her dog a hug. ‘I’ve had him for five months now. It’s been a guilt trip all the way, yet still I love him.’

Blake was still taking things on board. ‘This is the Ernest that’s going to take up the third bedroom?’

‘Well, I’m not going to sleep with him,’ Nell said, horrified. ‘He snores.’

Blake looked down at the ancient Ernest and he grinned.

‘He looks like the sort of dog who’d snore.’

He got a really, really reproachful canine glare for his pains.

‘Ernest’s very sensitive,’ Nell warned. ‘You might find you have to pay for that remark.’

‘He doesn’t bite?’

‘Bite?’ Nell shook her head in disbelief. She crossed to the little kitchenette and opened the oven door. ‘That requires energy. No, Ernest’s principal way of punishing people is by ignoring them.’

‘I can live with that.’

‘You’ll find you can’t,’ she warned him. ‘It’s very effective. He sort of embellishes his ignoring routine in all sorts of fancy ways. You’ll see. Now… Dinner?’

Ernest was promptly forgotten. ‘Dinner!’

‘You haven’t eaten?’ She turned back to face him. ‘I didn’t see how you could have.’

‘No, but—’

‘Then there’s dinner,’ she told him as if he were stupid. ‘I ate hours ago but I saved half the casserole for you. It’s apricot chicken. Very basic but it is my first night. We stopped off at the all-nighter on our first furniture run so I could throw this together while the boys heaved sofas.’ And then she grinned. ‘I imagine it’s set the town talking. An ambulance parked outside the minimart with a sofa sticking out the back.’

He imagined it might have. He should be angry. But there was apricot chicken casserole. His nose was giving him all sorts of messages, and every one of them was urgent.

And it was sort of funny…

‘I don’t approve,’ he managed, and Nell nodded.

‘Of course you don’t. You’re a very responsible doctor. I can see that. So you don’t approve of ambulances filled with sofas, buying chicken drumsticks and cans of apricots. But you will still eat my casserole?’

He was trying hard not to laugh. For heaven’s sake, she was ridiculous. ‘I might.’

‘Ernest will if you don’t,’ she said cheerfully, and Blake turned and glowered at the dog. Ernest glowered back.

But this was a dog after all. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Blake told him. ‘Not even the scraps.’

‘He’s already eaten,’ Nell said.

‘Chicken casserole?’

‘Dog food. The ambulance and sofa brought that, too. But he’s not fussy and he’s always up for second helpings.’

‘I imagine he might be. That’s quite some paunch.’

‘Now you really are getting personal.’ She scooped the casserole onto a plate and set it down on her gorgeous table. The whole room came together. The aroma of the delicious casserole. The furniture. The dog. The brilliantly dressed woman, heavily pregnant, ladling out food…

It was the sort of scenario that’d normally make him run a mile.

‘Wrap yourself around that,’ Nell told him, and she smiled.

Who could resist an invitation like that?

‘Wash your dishes afterwards,’ she said blithely. She hauled her dog up into her arms. ‘We’ve done enough. Ernest and I are very, very tired and we’re off to bed. We’ll leave you to it.’

She left, and the room was desolate for her going.

CHAPTER THREE

SOMEONE was trying to smother him.

Blake woke to fur balls. Or fur mats. Something warm and heavy and limp was lying right across his face, threatening to choke him while he slept. He sat up like he’d been shot, and Ernest slid sideways onto the floor.

The stupid dog lay like he was paralysed, four legs in the air, eyes frantic, waiting for someone to set him to rights. Good grief!

‘You dopey dog. Don’t you have any respect?’

Ernest whimpered.

Was the creature injured? Blake flung back the covers, climbed out of bed and stooped to see.

Ernest promptly found his feet, took one agile leap and landed in the warm spot vacated by Blake.

‘You damned dog… You’re out of here.’ Blake put a hand on his collar to haul him away, but it was easier said than done. Ernest lay like a dead dog. His eyes were closed and he snoozed as if he’d been asleep for hours, seemingly totally oblivious of anyone else’s comfort but his own.

‘It’s either you or me, mate,’ Blake muttered, and glanced at the clock. And then glanced again. Hell. That couldn’t be right. The clock said eight-thirty. His alarm was set for six.

The alarm had been turned off.

She’d sneaked in while he’d been sleeping, he thought incredulously, and then wondered how on earth could she have done it. He would have woken. Surely?

The thought of Nell tiptoeing across his bedroom had him as unnerved as…as did her stupid dog sleeping in his bed!

‘OK. I know. I have to get up,’ he told Ernest. ‘Sure, you can use my bed. Any time. Don’t mind me.’

Ernest didn’t.

He’d have to skip breakfast. There was a ward round to do before surgery at nine, and there wasn’t time. At least no one had rung during the night, he thought as he showered and dressed, but that in itself was unusual. Worrying even.

He’d had the best sleep he’d had in months and he felt like a million dollars for it, but he’d have to pay by working doubly hard now. Harriet’s heart problems needed urgent attention. He needed to persuade her to be transferred at least to Blairglen but preferably to one of the major coronary-care units at Sydney or Melbourne. That by itself would take hours.

Damn, damn, damn…

And on the other side of the wall, Nell must still be in bed.

‘She’s been a great help,’ he told Ernest as he hauled a comb through his unruly thatch of hair. ‘Some Christmas present she turns out to be. She turns off my alarm, she lands me with her dog and then she sleeps in…’

She was seven months pregnant. And she had made him apricot chicken the night before.

‘But I don’t need domesticity,’ he told the somnolent Ernest. ‘I’d rather eat baked beans on toast and be on time. How on earth can I fit everything in?’ He slammed the bedroom door on the sleeping dog, walked out through the living room—trying to ignore just how good the newly furnished room looked in the early morning light—and stalked through to the hospital.

‘Some Christmas present,’ he muttered again, anger building at the thought of what lay ahead. ‘Now I’ll be late all day.’

Only he wasn’t. Everything had been done.

Donald, the charge nurse, came to greet him, his face wreathed in smiles. ‘Well, well, if it’s not Captain Snooze. Our Dr McKenzie told us you were having a wee sleep in and we could hardly believe it.’

‘Your Dr McKenzie?’

‘She’s been here for two hours,’ Donald told him. ‘She had breakfast with the staff and we feel we’ve really got to know her. She’s a great kid.’ Donald was fifty. Anyone forty-nine or under was a kid to him—Blake included. Now he beamed like a Scottish patriarch, solving the problems of the world.

‘And she’s very, very competent,’ Donald told him, ignoring the look on Blake’s face and sounding as pleased as Punch. ‘Louise couldn’t get Elmer Jefferson’s drip back in last night and she did it first go. Louise says she has fingers like you wouldn’t believe.’

‘You’ve let her near the patients?’ Blake’s voice rose to incredulous and Donald took a step back—but he wasn’t a nurse to be intimidated by a mere doctor. They worked on equal footing, these two.

‘Now, why wouldn’t I have done that?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t be a fool, man. She’s a registered doctor, she’s approved and paid by our hospital board, and Jonas and Emily from Bay Beach both rang me up personally to vouch for her training. I knew her when she was a kid, so I was tickled pink to hear she was coming back.’

Tickled pink hardly described how he was feeling. Blake stared at his charge nurse through narrowed eyes. ‘You knew she was coming?’

‘We all did,’ Donald said smugly. ‘Happy Christmas, Dr Sutherland.’

Great. The world had gone mad.

‘Where is she now?’

‘She’s done a full ward round, sorted out any problems—not that there were any—only Elmer at five a.m.’

‘Elmer’s drip packed up at five and you didn’t ring me? You know he—’

‘Yeah, we know it’s important. That septicaemia isn’t going to go away without a few more days of antibiotics. It was some spider bite he got.’ He grinned, enjoying Blake’s annoyance. ‘So Louise rang Nell—just like she told us to.’

‘When did she tell you to?’

‘Last night, of course.’ Donald grinned again. ‘A couple of the nurses stopped by to lend her a hand with the furniture moving when they finished late shift. Me included. She got us hanging pictures and said you were taking turns with calls, starting last night, so when the drip packed up at five Louise rang her.’

‘Rang my phone? I would have heard.’

‘Louise rang Nell’s cellphone,’ Donald said patiently. ‘She gave us the number. Easy.’

Easy…

His life had been turned upside down. By a nutcase.

‘Is she wearing her purple patchwork pants?’ he couldn’t help asking, and this time it was Donald’s turn to look astonished.

‘Now, why should she wear purple patchwork to work? She’s a professional. No. She’s wearing a white coat over some sort of floral skirt. Very demure. See for yourself. She’s in with Harriet.’

‘Harriet?’

‘Harriet’s been busy planning how you could perform open-heart surgery here,’ Donald told him, grinning. ‘She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I told Nell what the problem was and Nell left her until last. So she’s still there. Want to see how she’s doing?’

Blake did. He cast one more glare at his charge nurse—heck, Donald almost sounded as if he’d been bewitched—and then he stalked off down the corridor to Intensive Care. To see what damage had been done, and how best he could undo it.

Only, of course, no damage had been done at all. Harriet was lying back on her pillows, smiling up at the woman beside her bed, and Nell was holding her hand.

The night and the chest pain had taken their toll on Harriet. Her bravado of the night before had slipped, and fear was showing through. She was gripping Nell’s hand like she was drawing strength from human contact.

She looked up as Blake entered—they both did—and he received two smiles of welcome. Nell’s was warm and open. Harriet’s was a bit wobbly.

‘Dr Sutherland…’

He had the sense to focus on Harriet first. Nell and her damned managerial ways could wait.

‘Hey there.’ He walked across, took the old lady’s hand away from Nell and held it himself. ‘Well done,’ he told her. ‘You’ve had the night without any more trouble.’ And then he frowned and looked sideways at Nell. ‘At least, I assume there was no more trouble.’

‘I would have woken you if there was,’ Nell said blithely, and he almost choked.

Focus on Harriet…

‘No more palpitations?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Great.’ He hesitated. ‘Harriet, we’re going to have to get specialist opinion on this. I’m afraid that means a trip…’

‘To Sydney.’ Harriet managed a brave smile. ‘I know. Nell…Dr McKenzie’s just been explaining it to me.’

‘Call me Nell,’ Nell said promptly. ‘Please. You used to call me Nell when I was a little girl. I don’t see why you should change now.’ She smiled fondly down at the old lady. ‘Harriet used to run the general store and sometimes she gave me free sweets,’ she explained to Blake, and Harriet’s smile died.

‘It was the least I could do. No one else ever did. Those dreadful—’

‘That’s enough,’ Nell told her. ‘The bad old days are over. Forgotten. And now aren’t I lucky? Being a doctor, I can buy all the sweets I want.’

‘Oh, my dear…’

But Nell was refusing sympathy. ‘I’ve just been telling Harriet about my friend Matt who’s the head of Coronary Care at Sydney Central.’ She turned to Blake. ‘Matt’s a real sweetheart. He has a gorgeous wife and he has two sets of twins and a dog just like Ernest. In fact, he’s Ernest’s brother.’

Despite himself, Blake grinned at that one. ‘Matt’s Ernest’s brother?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Don’t go near him with a bargepole, Harriet. Ernest is the dopiest—’

‘Matt’s dog is Ernest’s brother,’ Nell said with dignity, but her green eyes twinkled. ‘And haven’t you made it up with my dog yet?’

‘Two dogs like Ernest…’ Blake said, raising his eyes to the ceiling, and Nell’s twinkle deepened.

‘Yep. Aren’t they just wonderful?’

‘Wonderful!’

Nell gazed at him thoughtfully for a long moment—and then shook her head. She put her mind back to business. ‘Anyway, Harriet thinks she might just trust Matt to decide what’s best to be done, so I’ve organised an air transfer to Sydney.’

‘You’ve organised an air transfer?’

‘With Donald’s help, of course,’ she told him. ‘We decided Bob and Henry weren’t really skilled enough for a coronary-care transfer.’

‘And if Bob spends the day with the ambulance it’d mean the mail would be really late—if it arrived at all—and it’s so near Christmas that it’d be a disaster,’ Harriet chirped in, and Blake could only stare.

‘But…’

‘But what, Dr Sutherland?’ Nell smiled. ‘We haven’t set in motion anything that you can’t rescind. The air ambulance doesn’t arrive until midday. But Harriet and I agree that you have quite enough on your plate without trying to implant a pacemaker before Christmas.’

‘Harriet’s agreed to this?’

‘If Matt thinks it’s necessary. Harriet wants to hang around for the long term. She’s agreed to help me set my house in order—oh, and knit me one of her famous capes. She knitted one for my grandmother once and I did so want one.’

‘If I’d known,’ Harriet said darkly, and Nell shook her head.

‘No. How could you know? But now you do and you’ve agreed to make it for me so I’ll have the wool ready as soon as you’re transferred back. And I’ll also ring Sonia, Matt’s wife. She’ll bring her latest set of twins in to see you and I’ll bet she has you knitting for them before you can blink.’

Nell was fantastic, Blake thought reluctantly. Absolutely fantastic. In one fell swoop she’d persuaded Harriet to go to Sydney, she’d organised her company while she was there, she’d taken the depersonalisation out of Harriet’s medical process—when Harriet met Matt she wouldn’t think of him as a cardiologist but as the father of two sets of twins and one dopey dog—and Nell had given her something to look forward to on her return.

Whew!

‘I probably need to go now,’ Nell told Harriet, smiling down at her like a co-conspirator. ‘I’m just about ready for a cup of coffee, and I’ll bet Dr Sutherland wants to examine you.’

‘There’s probably no need,’ Harriet said, but her eyes twinkled up at Nell. ‘Oh, very well. We don’t want to put his nose out of joint, I suppose.’

‘Of course we don’t.’ Nell stooped and kissed her. ‘That would be perfectly appalling.’

He found Nell fifteen minutes later. She was sitting in the hospital kitchen, tucking into an enormous plate of eggs and bacon. As soon as he arrived she waved to the stove.

‘Yours is there. Cook made it for you. I told her you were coming. If you’re quick the eggs will still be runny.’

‘I don’t have time to eat.’

‘Of course you have time to eat,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s one of life’s imperatives. Mrs Condie will be back in a few minutes and if she finds you haven’t eaten it she’ll be very hurt—especially when I told her how hungry you were.’

Was there no end to this woman’s interference? ‘How did you know I was hungry? I could have had breakfast at home.’

‘I saw what was in your refrigerator,’ she said darkly. ‘Green bread, and bacon to match. Even Ernest would turn up his nose at that.’

The smell was delicious. She was infuriating—but she was also right. OK, he’d eat. To refuse would be petty. ‘Ernest eats fillet steak, does he?’ he muttered, scooping bacon and eggs onto a plate.

‘If he can get it. Why wouldn’t he?’

‘Why indeed?’

Her green eyes widened. ‘You don’t like my dog?’

‘Your dog,’ he said with a glower, hunkering down in a chair on the other side of the table, ‘is currently sleeping in my bed. My bed!’

‘Whoops,’ she said contritely. ‘I couldn’t have pulled the door fully shut when I switched off your alarm.’

‘Now, about that—’

‘Eat your breakfast before it gets cold,’ she told him, popping another bacon rasher between her teeth. ‘This is yummy.’

Blake ate a bacon rasher. And then another. And he glowered all the time.

‘The wind’ll change,’ she said kindly.

‘Excuse me?’

‘If you keep that horrid expression on your face you could be in real trouble. I’m sure you don’t mean to look bad-tempered, but if the wind changes while you look that way then you’re stuck with it for life.’

‘That’s superstitious nonsense.’

‘Oh, no. My best friend told me that when I was five so I’m sure it must be right.’

‘Dr McKenzie—’

‘Nell.’

‘Dr McKenzie,’ he repeated through clenched teeth.

‘I suppose it’s better than Miss McKenzie.’ She sighed. ‘What?’

‘You had no business turning off my alarm clock.’

‘But you were tired and I’m your Christmas present.’ She said it as if it made everything fine.

‘You still had no business interfering, and as for taking my calls in the night…’

‘That’s what I’m here for—and they’re not your calls. They’re our calls. The hospital board’s employing me, so you have no right to act as if everything medical is yours. Now, this morning—’

‘You’ve done enough already. This morning you can take yourself off.’

‘Nope. I’ve organised it all with Marion.’

‘You’ve what?’

‘Organised with our receptionist,’ she told him sweetly. ‘She’s pulled out all the patient files and I thought I’d run through them with you now. Before I see patients.’

‘But I’ll be seeing patients.’

‘You’ll see patients this afternoon.’ She smiled again. ‘I expect I’ll be feeling a bit weary by this afternoon so I imagine I might take an afternoon nap, so you can take over all you want. Then.’

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