About the Authors

Starting with non-fiction, DIANNE DRAKE penned hundreds of articles and seven books under the name JJ Despain. In 2001 she began her romance-writing career with The Doctor Dilemma. In 2005 Dianne’s first Medical Romance, Nurse in Recovery, was published, and with more than twenty novels to her credit she has enjoyed writing ever since.

DEANNE ANDERS was reading romance while her friends were still reading Nancy Drew, and she knew she’d hit the jackpot when she found a shelf of Mills & Boon Presents in her local library. Years later she discovered the fun of writing her own. Deanne lives in Florida, with her husband and their spoiled Pomeranian. During the day she works as a nursing supervisor. With her love of everything medical and romance, writing for Mills & Boon Medical Romance is a dream come true.

Also by Dianne Drake

Doctor, Mummy…Wife?

The Nurse and the Single Dad

Saved by Doctor Dreamy

Bachelor Doc, Unexpected Dad

Second Chance with Her Army Doc

Her Secret Miracle

Sinclair Hospital Surgeons miniseries

Reunited with Her Army Doc

Healing Her Boss’s Heart

Also by Deanne Anders

From Midwife to Mummy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

New York Doc, Thailand Proposal & The Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell

Dianne Drake and Deanne Anders

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90193-6

NEW YORK DOC, THAILAND PROPOSAL & THE SURGEON’S BABY BOMBSHELL

New York Doc, Thailand Proposal © 2019 Dianne Despain The Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell © 2019 Denise Chavers

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

New York Doc, Thailand Proposal

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

The Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

New York Doc, Thailand Proposal

Dianne Drake

Worlds apart

But reunited by love!

Surgeons Layla and Arlo once shared a connection like no other, but they’re total opposites: Layla’s heart belongs to New York, while Arlo won’t ever work in a big-city hospital. Only, when Arlo’s remote practice needs her help, Layla finds herself heading out to Thailand! As they work side by side, Layla begins to see jungle life through Arlo’s eyes Is a proposal in paradise enough to give life together a second chance?

To Mike Cramer, one of the hardest-working

and best doctors I ever knew.

The world is a little less bright without you,

my friend. RIP.

CHAPTER ONE

“I KNOW WHAT we were, Mother. But two years deserves a better ending than what we had, and when this opportunity came”

Dr. Oliver Benedict, Layla Morrison’s boss, mentor and, yes, Arlo’s grandfather, had three spots open for volunteers—specifically the three candidates he was looking at to be his new assistant chief of surgery.

“No, I don’t know if Arlo knows I’m the one Ollie picked for this assignment. It’s only been five days from the time he gave me the nod until now, and Ollie specifically said communication with Arlo wasn’t always available. So, yes, I might be a surprise.”

But the need was legitimate. According to Ollie, Arlo was alone right now. His medical assistant had gone home to India for a while and after living with Arlo for two years herself, and listening to him talk about the way he wanted to practice medicine here, in Thailand, Layla knew what she was getting herself into.

Jungle medicine. Nothing easy. Nothing convenient. It was hard work. Sometimes backbreaking. And it was so embedded in Arlo’s heart it had caused their break-up. Two years into their relationship and the call of the jungle had beaten her.

“NO, I don’t know if this will give me a lock on a promotion, but it will finally give me some closure. We didn’t have that. It was too difficult at the end and we were both hurt. So, I’m hoping that this will help me, maybe even Arlo, finally move on.”

Layla had had one disastrous attempt at a relationship after Arlo and had compared everything Brad did against the way Arlo had done it. Nothing could compare, though, and now it was time to fix that so she could finally move on with her personal life since the professional side was rolling along quite nicely.

Layla was one of the top general surgeons in Ollie’s practice, highly regarded for her skills, in line for a promotion. That part was just what she wanted and, finally, she had time to look beyond that, to having a life outside medicine. Except there was Arlo. She hadn’t been able to shake him off. Not in the physical sense, but in the emotional. All the what-ifs? They wouldn’t let go, so now it was time to purge them and move on.

Layla sighed loudly enough for her mother to hear. “Look, it’s only two months, then I’ll be home and hopefully in a new position. Ollie hinted that I’m the forerunner. So, please, just wish me luck here because working in a jungle hospital scares me a little bit.” But not as much as facing Arlo after all this time.

“Yes, Mother, I’ll be careful. And tell Daddy thanks for the SUV. The way these roads are turning out to be, it’s exactly what I needed.” Her dad had made a couple of phone calls and, just like magic, it had been waiting for her at the airport. But he had connections here in Thailand. In fact, he had connections everywhere so what he’d done for Layla had been easy. Everything her parents had ever done for her had made her life easier. Which was one of the reasons Arlo had always called her spoiled. She’d taken advantage of that from time to time. Until Arlo had pointed that out.

Still, her parents always supported her in what she wanted to do. Sometimes the support was a little grudging, since their ideas of what they wanted for her were entirely different from what Layla wanted for herself. But there hadn’t been a time since she was a little girl that she’d seen herself as anything other than a doctor, and now Layla was on her way to do some doctoring in the jungle with a man who’d been her partner for two years. Talk about an improbable situation.

“Two years,” she said out loud, as she swerved to miss a rut in the dirt road. Arlo Benedict had been at her level during their medical residency, and the arrangement to share an apartment had been a practical one. For Arlo, it had been about money. His grandfather, Ollie, had been supporting him through school, but just barely, since his own surgery was quite costly to operate. And Arlo’s parents—they were like Arlo was now. Jungle doctors, living on practically nothing.

When Layla had first met Arlo, he’d been struggling. Not complaining, though. But his life had been hard, and he hadn’t had many extras. No going out with friends for pizza and beer. Working an extra job when he’d really needed to be studying. He had been so dedicated—dedicated in a way she’d never seen in anyone, and she admired that. Plus, he was easy on the eye, and maybe she’d had a little crush.

She didn’t know for sure, but when she’d mentioned she had a bedroom to rent, he’d jumped at the chance. Layla had told herself that having someone there was simply a matter of practicality. But in the case of asking Arlo to be her roomie, it had possibly been something more. Certainly, she’d been open to suggestions at the time. He had been smart, drop-dead gorgeous and quite emphatic that he’d be gone once his residence was completed.

Arlo had come with everything she’d wanted, and something she hadn’t wanted—a long-term relationship. She hadn’t been about to tie herself up that way until she’d started climbing the ladder, and that had still been a long way off.

Well, she had been wrong about the relationship. Just being with Arlo had made her want to be with him all the more. No, he had not been a long-termer and, yes, he had been clear he wouldn’t stay. But being with Arlo for two years had changed her. Made her want things she hadn’t known she wanted. Made her want Arlo in ways she’d known he hadn’t been available.

Had it been the challenge of him, or the allure? Probably some of both. But when her real feelings had started getting in the way, the allure had taken over in a big way. Not that it mattered because, in the end, he’d left her. It was always his plan, he’d told her. But she’d truly thought she could change his mind.

Unfortunately, Layla couldn’t. And their ending had been bad. Arguments they’d never had before. Shouting. Crying. Naturally, she’d blamed Arlo for everything but, deep down, she’d always known she couldn’t hang onto him. She’d just tried ignoring it.

Initially, Arlo’s resistance at accepting her offer, and he did resist, had been quelled by her declaration that theirs would be a friends-only situation. Sure, she’d wanted more. Which, as it had turned out, had been the case with Arlo as well. And within two weeks a cozy night when two weary surgical residents had shared a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn on the couch had turned into

Of course, there’d been early morning promises that what they’d done was a one-time thing. Except it wasn’t. For two years. Now, nearly five years down the road, while Layla was perfectly on track with her career, Arlo was the loose end she needed to tie up because she didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life. Because she was a total washout when it came to relationships—just ask Brad, her only attempt at another relationship after Arlo. Then there was the whole ticking of the biological clock thing going on. Yet she couldn’t take that step forward because—well, she was blaming it on their lack of closure, even though they’d both known, at the start, that Arlo would eventually go one way and she another.

It had seemed easy enough when they’d talked about it, but when the time had come, it wasn’t. Had Layla loved Arlo then? Yes, in a lot of different ways. But had she loved him enough to give up her dreams to follow his? No. Absolutely not. And neither had he been prepared to give up his dreams for her.

So, why was she here? To be honest with herself, she’d jumped at the chance before she’d thought it through. And once she’d committed, she wasn’t going to back down. Her plan—her only plan—to earn this promotion was do everything required to move her forward.

To back out of two months in a Thailand jungle hospital with her former lover would shove her back, not push her forward. So, here she was, feeling a lot of trepidation about Arlo’s reaction if Ollie hadn’t contacted him yet, and scared to death of a two-month commitment that, at one point in her life, might have turned into a lifetime commitment, had things worked out differently.

As her dad always said, Whatever it takes to get you to the next level. And while Layla didn’t know if this assignment would do that, it would certainly allow her to experience a side of medicine she knew little about. That, if nothing else, was a good thing as it would help make her a better doctor. So in two months she could be a better doctor who’d finally shut the door on an old relationship. It was good. All good because she needed Ollie to see she was a team player. Sometimes she wasn’t. Layla knew her reputation—she could be a little aloof, sometimes standing alone.

But growing up the way she had, with a photojournalist father who made documentaries all over the world, and her mother a film actress who, like her father, worked all over the world, she’d learned to be independent at a young age. Sometimes she could be too independent, which wasn’t necessarily in her best interest all the time. Even she recognized that. Although Arlo had pointed that out as well. More times than she cared to remember.

Still, most memories Layla had of her parents were of one or both of them walking away from her, going off in pursuit of their careers, which, if nothing else, had been the impetus for her independence. Arlo walking away had simply shored up what was already there—the notion that she wasn’t worth hanging around for. And for Layla, hiding behind the stone wall of independence she’d built around herself was easier than risking another rejection. She’d assumed that over time she’d learn to be happy there. Well, happy enough.

But sometimes the memories of a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn and what that had started did slip in. They hung on more tenaciously than almost any other memory of her life. And it was because of that memory Layla had been stalled in a place where there was no room for her. Where she wasn’t wanted. A place she had to fix and move beyond.

While this trip to Thailand to work with Arlo had been providential, it was also necessary. It was her chance to prove to herself that the feelings she’d had for Arlo were simply feelings meant only for that time and place, and had no bearing on anything else in her life. Then, and even now.

So, where was she anyway? Normally a quick check of an online map site was all Layla needed, but there was no cell reception out here, let alone a road that had been charted on a map. So she was only guessing she was headed in the right direction. A direction where she didn’t expect modern facilities, let alone the basics like running water and electricity.

That’s what Arlo had told her he’d come from, and that’s what he’d always said would be the kind of place he would practice his medicine. He’d grown up in the jungle, traveled with his parents, who were both doctors. And it’s what he’d said he wanted for his own life as he simply fit there better. Shortly, she would see if he did.

Layla looked ahead of her, saw a man riding atop an elephant and nearly ran herself off the road staring at him. It wasn’t the elephant that got her, though, not even the crater she swerved to avoid hitting. It was the wavering turn out of the swerve that wobbled her back and forth across the road. Unfortunately, it resulted in her landing in a drainage ditch with a flat tire, the front end down, back end up. Royally stuck and—she checked her phone even though it was pointless, and the result was what she expected—there was no way to contact anyone, anywhere.

“Damn it,” Layla huffed, throwing her phone back into the car as she stood alone on the road, trying to figure out what to do. “No bars. Not a single, lousy blip on the bar indicator.” Her first test out here, and she was already failing it.

After walking around her car several times, assessing and reassessing the situation, Layla finally sat down in the dirt, hoping someone would come by to help her. Someone in a truck with a tow rope, she hoped. Maybe even Arlo? But the only person who did pass was a withered little old man with a pushcart filled with fruits and herbs. He smiled graciously at her, then began a long-winded discussion, none of which she understood. After he finished speaking, he tipped his straw hat to her, picked up the hand grips of his cart and meandered on down the road at a pace that would favor a snail in a race.

“Well, so much for that,” Layla said, deciding to hike on down the road and hope that somewhere along the way she stumbled on someone who could help her. Or maybe even stumble on the village itself.

An hour later, making very little progress due to the road conditions, Layla stopped to rest, sitting down on a roadside rock and watching some kind of wild pig munching the droppings of a papaya tree. And this was why she and Arlo hadn’t succeeded at their relationship. They’d talked about it ad nauseam for the last few months they’d been together. While she’d never been in the jungle, she could see it in detail through Arlo’s description. There were good people here, leading extremely hard lives, in a place where nothing came easily. Transportation was limited, according to Arlo. As were communications. It was his passion, and she didn’t condemn him for it. But it wasn’t her passion. She wasn’t the kind of person who could survive here. Even two months were beginning to seem like an eternity.

“You and your passion, Arlo,” Layla grumbled, as she stood to resume her hike. Much to her surprise, the little man with the pushcart was coming back into view. Slowly.

Was he coming to rescue her? Her knight in shining armor? A man with a receding hairline, bushy gray eyebrows and some wispy chin fringe?

Naturally, when he arrived at her side, he was already chattering words she still didn’t understand. His gestures were clear, though. She was to climb into the part-empty cart and be pushed wherever he wanted to take her. “Village by the big fig tree,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t understand the English interpretation of the village’s name. But she couldn’t pronounce it in Thai and any mispronounced attempt might land her someplace she didn’t want to go, so she pointed to a small fig tree sapling off the side of the road, then attempted to gesture a much larger tree. Wouldn’t Arlo just laugh at her now, standing in the middle of nowhere playing a game of charades?

“Big fig tree,” Layla said a couple of times, even though the man had no idea what she was saying. He smiled, though, let her charade herself into more embarrassment before he gestured her to the cart again. Her taxi was waiting, and she couldn’t have been happier to see it, despite the prickly straw in the bottom, and the caged chickens she had to share her ride with. Oh, and the dog. The little old man had picked up a scraggly, lap-sized brown and white mutt somewhere along the way.

So, forcing a gracious smile, Layla climbed in, found a spot among the other passengers and shut her eyes. All those years ago, when Arlo had walked away from her, calling her too damned ambitious, it had hurt, even though it was true. Today—right this moment—she was glad her ambitions had kept her in modern society, as this was simply too hard already, and she hadn’t even started.

Maybe it was what Arlo wanted from his life, living here and practicing jungle medicine, and maybe he was one of the most benevolent, altruistic and humane people she’d ever known, but none of this was for her, and if she hadn’t known it then, she surely did now.

“Of all the doctors in the world, he sent you?” Arlo shook his head, not in disbelief so much as amusement. “You working in the jungle is as improbable as me working in a modern hospital somewhere. But you’ve certainly got the skill I need, so” He visibly bit back a laugh. “Welcome.”

Layla opened her eyes, which she’d purposely kept shut so she could avoid the full picture of her impetuous volunteering, and there he was, taking away her breath the way he always had. Only maybe a little more since the jungle setting made him seembetter.

Tall, roguishly handsome as ever and a little weathered, which became him. His blond hair looked sun bleached, and it was long, still with its gentle curl. She’d always liked those curls and the way they had felt in her fingers. And the penetrating blue eyes that still penetrated. But the thing that had always attracted her most were his dimples. Honest-to-gosh sexy dimples when he smiled.

“I’d have made my grand entrance differently if I could have, but I suppose this works,” she said as she picked straw from her hair. “Oh, and to answer your question, yes, he sent me.”

“He didn’t tell me it was you he was sending,” Arlo said.

“Probably because he was as surprised as I was that it was my hand that went up first to volunteer. Also, because he couldn’t get in touch with you.”

“Ah, yes. It’s all about the soon-to-be-open assistant chief position, isn’t it? When he told me he was going to announce it, I assumed you’d be the one fighting to get to the front of the line. Didn’t count on Ollie sending you out here as part of your climb up his ladder, though. Especially since we haven’t spoken in five years.”

“Three,” she corrected. “We spoke that time you came to New York to visit him.”

“One word, Layla. You said hello in passing.”

“And you acknowledged it by bobbing your head and grunting.”

“That’s not exactly speaking.”

“I was civil,” she said, trying to right herself in the cart, wishing Arlo would help her out so she wouldn’t look quite so undignified. But he was standing back, arms folded across his chest, the way he’d always done when they’d argued. So, was he expecting this to turn into an argument? “And in a hurry.”

“You were always in a hurry, Layla. And I’m assuming it’s paying off, taking on more and more just to prove yourself to him.”

“Not denying it,” she said.

“Nope, you never did. I think I saw that in you the first time we met.”

Of course, Arlo could see what he wanted to see in her. That was part of their fundamental problem. What he wanted versus what she wanted. Or, in their case, needed. “Part of my basic make-up, I suppose. But I never heard you object,” she said, stepping out of the cart, trying not to disturb the chickens while also trying to shoo the dog back in.

“Probably because I didn’t object. I liked your ambition. I was raised by pacifist parents who took things as they came, which is pretty much my style. Someone with your kind of ambition—I don’t recall ever seeing it in anyone before you. Not living in the jungle for as long as I did. It was an eye-opener for me, and alsowell, sexy.”

Layla turned to thank the old man for the ride by bowing to him, then tucked a few Thai coins into his hand which he pocketed eagerly as he returned her bow, then scurried away with his cart. “Right up until the day you walked out.” She brushed the straw off her backside, then stood at the bottom of the rough-hewn wooden stairs and looked up at Arlo. “It’s two months. You need the help, I’m available, and—”

“And in the bargain it makes you look good because you want that promotion. You haven’t changed, Layla. I’ll give you credit for that. Where you are now is where you were when we split. Still trying to climb that ladder.”

“I’m not the only one in the running.”

“No, but you’re the only one who’d come to Thailand to impress him. That’s huge, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“I also came to see a side of medicine I’ve never seen.” And try to make things right between them—things that seemed like they were already off to a shaky start.

“I offered you that. Remember?”

“For a lifetime, Arlo. You wanted a lifetime commitment and we weren’t even” Layla wanted to say in love, but that was implied. Their relationship had been about many things, but love had never been mentioned. In fact, because of their circumstances, she was sure that was the reason it never had been mentioned. It was too complicated. It got in the way. There were no compromises that would work for both of them. Even though her feelings for him might have been—well, that didn’t matter now, did it?

“Anyway, Ollie’s deal is for two months. I couldn’t have done a lifetime, Arlo. You knew that from the beginning. But I can do two months, and you do need that help. So this is good for both of us. You get an extra doctor for a while and I gain extra knowledge.” And closure, because she really did need to move on, and the only way she could think to do it was ending things better with Arlo.

But for Arlo? She’d spent too much time wondering if he’d needed more at the end the way she had. Now she had two months to find out, and put things into proper perspective. Then, hopefully, close the book on that story once and for all.

“Do you really think that helping the boss’s grandson will get you any special notice? Ollie’s not like that, Layla. In fact, it could go against you, volunteering to come here, when he knows how badly we ended. He could look at it as being very manipulative. I mean, if I were in his place, I might.”

“Or he could look at it as a way for me to improve my skills.” And, keeping her fingers crossed, she was on the inside track because of her work. Nothing else. “So, in the meantime, I’ve got my medical bag with me, but my personal bags are in my car, which is stuck in a ditch somewhere between here and God only knows where. Do you know someone who can go get my car unstuck and bring it here?” She looked up at the sign over the door behind Arlo and smiled. “Seriously, you named this place Happy Hospital?”

They’d actually named this hospital together years ago. They were being silly one night, and maybe a little drunk, and the pillow talk had turned to the kind of hospital where each of them could see themselves in the future. Naturally, Layla had described something large and state-of-the art, whereas he’d simply said he wanted to work at a happy hospital. She hadn’t remembered that until now. Apparently, he hadn’t forgotten it. In a way, it made her feel flattered that he’d thought of her.

“Things are simple here, Layla. I know you’re not used to that, but that’s how we are. And the hospital name fits because when we don’t have enough insulin to treat all our patients and don’t have the means to go get it for another week or two, or when some other hospital like this one is ahead of us on the list, pushing us down the waiting list, we can either go all gloom and doom over our situation or try to make the best of it. Being happy with what we have helps.”

“I didn’t mean to imply it was a bad name, Arlo. But out here, in the middle of the jungle, it just seems—out of place.”

“People are just as happy here as they are where you come from. It’s all relative to their expectations.”

“But are you happy here, Arlo? I know you always said this is what you wanted, but sometimes I’ve wondered what might have happened to you if you’d gone into your grandfather’s surgery the way he’d wanted, or accepted any of the offers you had.”

“I was happy here when I was a kid, traipsing around from village to village with my parents, and I still am. It was the choice I had to make because I wouldn’t have been happy anyplace else, practicing any other kind of medicine.”

He’d never doubted his decision either. He’d lived the traditional life for a while, and he’d lived this life. Ultimately, this was where he wanted to be. Where his heart was. And when he and Layla were together, that had always been the thing she couldn’t, or had refused to understand. Accepting a position elsewhere might have been easier, but easier didn’t mean better. At least, not for him.

“Anyway, I don’t really have good sleeping accommodations for you. Tallaja, my assistant, usually sleeps in the ward when we have patients or the office when we don’t. He’s pretty flexible about that, but I’m guessing you won’t be.”

“As long as I have mosquito netting, it doesn’t matter.”

“Seriously? You’ve been doing your homework, haven’t you?”

“I don’t step into things blindly, Arlo. Except maybe our relationship.”

“I never considered it being blind. Not one day of it.” Arlo stepped aside as Layla marched up steps and pushed past him into Happy Hospital, brushing up against him just slightly, but enough to raise goosebumps on his arms. It was a familiar feeling—one he didn’t want to have. But every time she’d ever touched him, even innocently like just now, she’d caused that reaction that would, inevitably, lead to another reaction, then another, until Damn. Why these thoughts? Why now when he was just coming to terms with the fact that he would never have enough to offer anyone else a decent life?

Even when he had been with Layla, Arlo had always known she would come to her senses about who he was and what he’d never have to offer her. It hadn’t stopped him from getting involved, but it had always held him back from getting too involved. Back at the beginning, he’d drawn his own line in the sand then taken good care never, ever to step over it, except for that one moment near the end when he’d asked her to come to Thailand with him.

Stupid mistake. He’d known that as the words had come out, and he’d still felt the sting of her rejection a week later when he’d walked away, even though he’d always known how she would answer if he’d asked. “So, look around. There’s not much to see, but it could be a lot worse.”

Layla stopped just inside the hospital door, looked around and turned back to face him. “How many people can you accommodate?” she asked.

“Ten on the worst day ever. We do a lot of our treatment in-home because people here prefer it that way. But for the most part we dispense our medicine and treatments any way we can. My goal isn’t so much the ‘where’ as the ‘what.’”

And it wasn’t an easy goal. Already he could tell that Layla was chastising herself for volunteering. She liked her creature comforts too much. And to think there’d been a time when he’d imagined they could work shoulder to shoulder here, that she wouldn’t be bothered by the overall difficulty of pretty much everything. Well, he’d been wrong about that. Stars in his eyes. That’s what he told himself afterward. Or maybe it had been the first time in his life he’d connected to a woman the way he had Layla.

Unfortunately, his situation doomed a relationship. But, if he were to pack up and leave for the sake of love, chances were nobody would come to take his place. The thought of letting down the people in his care made Arlo queasy and with that came the unrelenting knowledge that letting himself down was his course to follow. Forever alone. So, this is where he was, however it had happened. His choice, of course. And in that he’d been as stubborn or independent as he’d accused Layla of being.

“Your other option is to share my hut. It has a little more privacy—not much—but it’s someplace where you can get away when you need to. Unless there’s an emergency, people here know not to bother me when I’m in there.” Arlo hadn’t intended to ask her but now that he had, he didn’t regret it.

When they had been together, they’d had fun evenings. Sitting, talking. Laughing. So maybe that was a bit of nostalgia creeping in. But those had been nice times and he didn’t mind the reminders. Because once he and Layla had been very good together. Unfortunately, that had ended, but maybe having her here could shut the book on the bad and leave him with only the good. He hoped so as he didn’t want to carry the weight of the bad with him for the rest of his life and, if he planned to spend that life alone, he wanted the good memories to look back on.

“You don’t have to stand there looking so stressed, Arlo. I can do this job. Even more, I want to do this job.”

“Because it’s just another rung higher on your climb.”

“Yes. I won’t lie about that. Ollie needs team players in his surgery, and that’s what I’ve been for quite a while now.”

“Is it a struggle? Because I’ve never seen you as a team player. And I don’t say that to offend you. But you always prided yourself on standing alone.”

Layla laughed. “Because when you knew me, that’s all I’d ever done. Stood alone. So, it’s always a struggle joining in, and I know that. So does Ollie. But this promotion means everything, so I’ve got a lot of work to do if I want to earn it. That demon of ambition is still there, Arlo, chipping away at me, and I thought something unexpected, like coming here, to the last place I thought I’d ever want to be, would help me learn what I need to know outside what I already know.”

Arlo cocked his head and looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “I thought maybe he’d twisted your arm.”

“You’re the only one who ever tried to twist my arm and look how that turned out.”

“I still can’t believe you chose this, Layla. What were his other options?”

“Going to a sister hospital in Miami or working as assistant surgeon for a football team. Both short-term, fill-in positions like this. So, to be honest, I’m as surprised as you that I raised my hand for this. Especially since it scares me that I won’t have what it takes to give your patients what they need. And you scare me, because—well, you fit here, and I don’t.” Layla bit down hard on her lip, and for a moment stared off into space.

“I—I don’t want to fail, Arlo. I want to be the kind of person who can step into a situation—any situation—and do what needs to be done. I mean, you’ve always known I have a huge fear of failure. And look at me now—marching into the center ring, pretty much without a clue. For me, this is really pushing the envelope, as they say. And while the whole you and me relationship thing is off the table, I need to be able to depend on you to help me, or at least point me in the right direction so I can figure it out myself.

“Even though being here and doing what I’m about to do scares me, I don’t want to take the easy way out.” Like giving in and going with him when she’d always known the life he led would make her miserable. Oh, she’d weighed the decision, for months. Made the mental pros and cons list. But in the end one thing had always tilted out of proportion to everything else—to be the best doctor she could be meant she had to be satisfied with her lifestyle.

What Arlo offered would never satisfy her. And, sure, maybe that was the leaning of the materialistic girl in her, but it was something that couldn’t be overlooked. Layla had lost sleep over it, paced a rut in the carpet, bitten her nails to the quick, trying to figure out how to change herself, but, in the end, even her feelings for Arlo hadn’t been strong enough to bring that about. Sadly, that was the answer. If she’d loved him enough, she should have been able to make the necessary changes in herself. But she couldn’t, which meant she hadn’t.

“Nope. You never were easy, and you never took the easy way out.”

Arlo was decked out in tan cargo shorts and a faded navy blue T-shirt with the Voltaire saying on it: The art of medicine consists of amusing the patient while nature cures the disease. He looked like he belonged here. Layla was glad for him because she’d never really found that yet—a place where she belonged.

Working with Ollie in his hospital was good, and she liked it. But did she love it? She wanted to, but because there seemed to be such a long distance between like and love, she wondered if love could really exist—for what she did, or for the person she might spend her life with. The bottom line was she didn’t know. Wasn’t even sure she knew what love was.

“Maybe not being easy was some of my charm?”

“You had many charms, Layla. Trust me, you had more charm than you ever gave yourself credit for.”

“You’re just saying that because I was convenient.”

“You were a lot of things, but convenient was never one of them.” He chuckled. “Even if I hadn’t been raised in the jungle where I really didn’t have much of an opportunity to get to know women, I’d have never called you convenient. Not in anything.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“There were many, many times I took it as a frustration. But it’s who you were. Maybe still are. And, yes, it is a compliment because I did like your independence. It made you different from the others.”

“Ah, yes. All the girls chasing after jungle boy. You did have your fair share, didn’t you?”

“None who could hold my attention the way you did.”

“Do you have someone now, Arlo? Are you married, or otherwise committed? I mean, I think Ollie might have told me, but you know how he is, the way he keeps as much to himself as possible. And I think he’s gone out of his way not to mention you because, well—you know. It was awkward.”

“There’s no one. I did see someone in Bangkok for a while after I got back, but it didn’t work out. She wanted attention all the time, and I didn’t often have time to get there to give it to her. And she wouldn’t come here. Eventually, she got to be very clingy, then demanding, when I refused an offer in one of the hospitals there. She’d set it up, assuming I’d take it but, well—you know me. You can take the jungle doc out of the jungle, but you can’t take the jungle out of the jungle doc. I didn’t conform enough for her and I certainly didn’t want her to assume she could control me with a good job offer.”

Arlo shook his head. “We lasted six long, difficult months then she met someone who could—and eventually did—give her all the things she wanted that I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not. She did much better than me. Besides, it’s the story of my life. I can’t bring anything to a relationship but me. I’ve got no money. Where I live—well, you’ll see that for yourself. I don’t own things. I work ridiculous hours. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect anybody to live that life, and it wasn’t fair of me back then to ask you to, then end it the way I did, when you told me all the reasons you couldn’t. At the time I was soangry. Eventually I realized that anger was disappointment, and not in you. But in myself for expecting that I could ever have any kind of real relationship in my life since I have nothing to offer.”

“You have yourself. If someone loves you, that should be enough.”

“But that’s not enough, Layla. You know it and I know it. But I made this choice, it was a promise to my mother. Now a lot of people depend on me. And if not methere’s nobody.”

Layla shook her head as well. “I almost got myself into something once, but it’s a long, complicated story. Girl on rebound meets wrong boy, mistakes his overtures for true love, boy tries to change girl to fit his mold, girl’s not the type to bend into anybody’s mold. In the end not a heartbreaker so much as an eye-opener and a huge caution that I’m better sticking to something where my heart doesn’t get involved.” And the last sentence of it went something like: Besides, he didn’t measure up to Arlo. But Arlo didn’t need to know that.

“Sorry to hear that. Even sorrier that I had a part in it.”

She forced a sad smile to her face. “The truth is, I don’t know what love is, Arlo. I recognize the kind my parents gave me—more obligatory love than the genuine thing. And don’t get me wrong. They’ve spent a lifetime trying hard, not always getting it right, but trying. Which, I suppose, is love in some variation. At least the only way they knew how to give it. Then there’s what I felt for you, which came with a time limit. I thought if I ignored it, it would magically disappear. Then Brad I don’t get it right, or don’t do something right. Not sure which.”

“Your parents you can’t help. With me—us—the boundaries were there before we” He swallowed hard. “Before we turned our friendship into something it wasn’t meant to be. And with Brad, everybody makes that mistake sooner or later. The rebound affair. That’s what I had with Gayle, I suppose. Someone to fill in the gaps.”

“Then you were rebounding from me even though we weren’t”

“Readjusting,” he said.

“I like that. And maybe that’s what I was doingreadjusting.” Readjusting to life after Arlo. Yet here she was, the one place she didn’t belong given the feelings for him she’d had. But this time she was prepared. At least, she hoped she was. Because she needed to close this chapter. Even after all this time. “So, now that we know each other’s biggest mistakes, how about showing me your hut?”

“Are you sure you’d actually stay with me after”

“Just consider it like sleeping in on-call. Remember those days during our residency after long, hard hours where you barely had time to eat, let alone sleep, when any bed would do as long as the person occupying the bed next to you didn’t snore?” She paused for a moment, and despite herself laughed. “You didn’t start snoring, did you?”

“Haven’t had any complaints. At least, on the nights when I sleep in the hospital, the patients I’m watching haven’t said anything. Neither has Chauncy.”

“Who’s Chauncy?”

Arlo chuckled. “You’ll meet him soon enough. And probably get to sleep with him as well.”

She didn’t know what this was about, but his eyes were sparkling with laughter the way she remembered. It was nice seeing that again. Nice being part of it.

“No door?” she asked, as he pulled back the mosquito netting on his hut to let her in.

“Not yet. It’s on the list of things I want, but the hospital gets the little funding we raise, not me, so it’s not a priority.”

A quick look revealed a small area where he prepared food, a desk off in one corner, a couple of rough-hewn chairs and a thin curtain separating a small area at the back from the rest of what was, essentially, a one-room hut. It was clear, and as basic a space as she’d ever seen, and she could picture Arlo living here. He’d always been a man of simple needs—something she’d admired about him. “Sono facilities?”

“Over at the hospital. Once you get used to it, it’s not so bad.”

“Bad, as in?”

“Adequate. A hose through a window that brings water from a tank outside and takes a while to prime and get running. Or you can heat a bucket of water on the stove over there if you prefer a warm bath.” He smiled. “I’ve lived in much more primitive digs than this so, to me, this is all good.”

“Primitive for me was that weekend you took me to a cabin in the Catskills. Remember that?”

“It had indoor plumbing,” he said defensively, smiling.

“And I had to carry in wood to the fireplace. In my life, a fireplace is turned on with a little knob off to the side. One little flick, gas turns on and, voilà, a fire.” That had been a nice holiday, though. A wonderful holiday. No trappings like her parents required. Just simplicity and—the two of them. Snow outside, safe and warm with Arlo inside. Feeling protected by him. Drinking hot chocolate. Playing chess for hours on end. Making love for even more hours. Watching, through the plate-glass window, the snow coming down outside and being glad she was in Arlo’s arms, inside. Perfect.

He chuckled. “I always did say you were a wimp.”

“So, where’s the switch to turn on your lights?” she asked, looking around for it.

“I have a generator, but fuel to run it’s pretty expensive and hard to come by out here, so most of the time I light the place with a kerosene lamp. And candles. One of the women here makes candles for me.”

While Ollie had tried to prepare Layla for Arlo’s lifestyle, he hadn’t come close. Yet she was here anyway. But it was only for two months, which did concern her—not the lack of amenities but being so close to Arlo because, already, memories she didn’t want coming back were flooding in. The Catskills. Going to farmers’ markets on the weekends. Reading out loud to each other at night—she liked Charles Dickens, he liked Stephen King. The way he’d always shown up at the hospital to walk her home when it was dark. Or check the oil and battery in her car, then go fill it up to make sure she wouldn’t get stranded somewhere on the road. The big thingsthe little things. The things she’d taken for granted. So many of them were coming back to her now.

She’d expected some of that, but not so much, which made her wonder if what she’d thought of as a nice romance, or even an intense one at times, had really been much more. She knew she’d fallen in love with Arlo, but suddenly some of their memories were tearing at her heart. Even so, she didn’t regret her decision to come to Thailand as there was a possibility she needed closure much more than she’d thought she did.

“And this is how you get along on a daily basis?” she asked, wondering if she could as well. Because she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Arlo. There’d been too many times when he’d teased her about being a spoiled little rich girl, which had bothered her more than she’d expected it to. What she wanted more than anything was to show him she could do this on her own. Live this way. Be a good doctor. Be someone he respected. Because that’s the one thing she’d never been sure she’d had from him—his respect. And now, even after all this time, she wanted it. Why? She didn’t know. But it mattered. Mattered much more than she’d have ever guessed it would.

CHAPTER TWO

“SERIOUSLY? YOU CAN’T get antibiotics?”

Layla was reacting to a definite lack of supplies in Arlo’s medicine lock-up. She’d taken a peek while she was over there and had been totally shocked. In comparison to what she’d had available to her all the time this was crazy. Yet it was Arlo’s crazy, and he seemed good with it.

“I can, but it’s not as easy as you’d think. Medical care is free, but I have to wait for my allotment, then it’s sent to the regional hospital for me to pick up. Getting there isn’t always easy. I don’t always have time. And I can’t have someone do it who isn’t medically qualified.”

“But don’t you have an assistant?”

“He’s a student, Layla. A college graduate who’s getting ready to go to med school. And he’s a good medic in the field. Trained by me, though. So he’s not licensed or certified in any medical capacity yet, which means he can’t make that trip. I have a nurse who’ll bring my supplies out when he can, but doctors and nurses are in critically short supply outside the big cities, so he’s not always free to help me either. Meaning if I need something immediately, sometimes I can go get it, sometimes I must wait, depending on what else is going on.

“Bottom line—what I need is available, but the ability to go after it is often lacking. So we wait, and make do until we can rectify the situation.”

“I guess I never realized how difficult some medical situations can get, even when supplies are available.”

“Most people don’t. It’s not their fault, but who wants to hear about what I do here when what’s happening with medicine in Bangkok’s hospitals is a huge contributor to the medical world in general. That’s just the way it is.”

In her medical world, a quick call to the pharmacy or central supply got her what she needed within minutes. Layla couldn’t even begin to imagine the frustration of knowing you had what you needed available, yet you couldn’t get to it. Maybe that was something she could fix. Something where her admin skills would prove to him she was good at what she did. Certainly it was worth looking into.

“So, can you stock ahead? Keep a few things back in case of emergency?”

“I do, but I don’t have a lot of storage capacity here. And sometimes no electricity for days, which means the drugs that require refrigeration go bad.”

It kept getting worse. No easy access to drugs that were his. Sometimes no ability to store them properly. And Arlo had chosen this over his grandfather’s surgery? “Can’t say that I understand any of this, Arlo. When you used to talk about coming back here, what you have isn’t what you described. I pictured a modern facility tucked away in the jungle. Not a rundown structure that lacked supplies, personnel and anything that could be construed as convenient or up to date.”

“But that’s who we are. And this is what I knew I’d be getting when I came back.”

“Do you have a bed?”

“Sure do. And it will be yours if you want it. Also, it’s not a bed so much as a cot.”

“And with the facilities across the street”

“Consider it a little bit of rustic camping.”

“For two months, Arlo. I can do that. But this is the rest of your life and even though I can see it, and I do have a better understanding of the need here”

“Let me guess. You still don’t get it?”

“Oh, I get it. But this isn’t who you were when we were together. You talked about this life, but you didn’t live anything close to it.”

“Consider that as me being on holiday.”

“And I was part of that holiday?”

Arlo didn’t answer the question. Instead, he pulled back a thin sheet separating the main part of the room from what looked to be a tiny space for a bedroom. “And you’re in luck. Chauncy isn’t here right now. So the cot is all yours if you want to rest until I can find someone to get your car.”

Layla looked out the window above her cot and sighed. It was beginning to rain. Big fat drops. Hitting the dirt road and turning it into instant mud. And here she was, in a hut without a door, assigned to sleep with something or someone called Chauncy, and just now learning that what she’d thought might have been love in some form had been merely a holiday for Arlo. She’d been merely a holiday. Well, she was here. And she had to make the best of it while she was. But her spirits were as dreary as the gray sky outside. She’d hoped for something different, something more. And the truth hurt.

“I don’t suppose this Chauncy happens to have an umbrella, does he? I’d like to go back across the road and get myself acquainted with the hospital.”

“Actually, I have an umbrella. But you should be careful because some snakes love the rain and come out to play, while others are making a mad dash to get out of it.”

Yep, that’s all she needed to add to her mood. Snakes in the puddles. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, but the good news is we have a nice supply of antivenin always handy. That’s the one thing that’s delivered to my door because the pharmaceutical reps deem my snakebite findings useful to them. So, use the antivenin, fill out some paperwork, answer some questions and they keep the supply coming.”

Snakes and snakebites. Somehow none of this was brightening her day. Not this holiday girl.

“You trying to get rid of me already, Arlo?” Layla asked, walking into a small room, one of only three with real doors in the hospital, then stopping halfway inside to look around. It was a basic exam room. One hard, flat, old-fashioned exam table, an open cabinet with supplies like gloves, bandages and tongue depressors. The medicine cabinet she’d already seen. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t hopeless either. More like something new in her collection of medical experiences.

“So, do you have a usual time to order supplies?”

“On a PRN basis.” As needed.

“And you get that order sent by?”

“Going to an elephant rescue near here and getting on their internet.” Arlo smiled. “It may seem difficult, but it works out.”

But would she work out inside Arlo’s system? That was the question that kept coming to mind. She wanted to help him, to do a good job, but practically speaking, could she? “And I’ll fit into this how?”

“Any way you want to. I operate on the same system as my orders are submitted. PRN. It works, as long as I don’t get distracted. And that’s when everything falls apart.”

“What distracts you?” Layla was curious, as Arlo had never seemed the type to get distracted when they’d been together.

“A lot of things. Too much need, too little of me to go around. Medicines I can’t get when I need them. The hole in the roof over my cot. Actually, now that you’ve displaced me that’s one less distraction I’ll have to deal with.”

“Did you always feel that way about me, Arlo? That I distracted you?”

He gave her a questioning look. “How do you mean?”

“That I was a distraction you didn’t want to have?”

“You were always a distraction, Layla. But I wanted that distraction. Wanted that time we had together. It meant—everything.”

To her, it had. But she wasn’t sure about Arlo. One thing was certain, though. He’d been her distraction. And he’d displaced her feelings in a way no one would ever do again. Before him, she’d been sure what she wanted. But after him there had been times when she hadn’t been so sure.

“Well, however it worked out, I’m glad you have everything you wanted,” she said, walking out into the short corridor leading to the single room holding ten beds. All empty now. And everything bare bones. Meager. Medicine on a level she’d never seen. “Do you think Ollie might have provided you with more, had he known how bare your hospital is?”

“He knows, Layla. He’s been here. But he’s so heavily invested in his surgical practice—putting me through med school was enough. It was a very generous thing to do, especially considering that if he hadn’t done it, I might still be struggling to earn enough money to get through. Besides, my parents were able to manage under difficult circumstances and so am I.”

“I hope so. For your sake, as well as your patients’.”

“You think I don’t do what’s best for my patients? You’re here all of an hour and you’re already making judgments?”

“Not at all. I’m beginning to realize how difficult it must be to exist here.” She was almost gaining a deeper insight into him now, seeing him differently than she had in those years they had been together. And this side of Arlo wasadmirable. He was someone to be respected. And it was so frightening, knowing he was out here, practically on his own, trying to make a difference she still didn’t understand. “Since I’ve come a long way to work with you, I have the right to wonder. And worry, if that’s the way it turns out. If that bothers you, sorry. But there’s nothing I can do about it. At least, not until I understand more.”

As Layla passed by Arlo on her way to the tiny kitchen at the rear of the ward, she paused when they were almost chest to chest and looked up at him. “I never worked directly with you when we were residents because of our personal situation. Fraternization wasn’t allowed. But now it’s different. And what we had, or what we meant to each other, can’t get in the way. OK? The past is the past. So, keep in mind, Arlo, that this can’t turn into something that’s only about us. Taking offense too quickly at things not intended to be offensive, overreacting—we can’t do that. We can’t wipe the slate clean either. But we’ve got to find a way to make this work for a while. If that’s what you want for your hospital. If it’s not”

She shrugged, then ducked into the tiny kitchen to assess the two-burner stove, the small utility table, and the knee-high refrigerator that looked to be a decade past its prime. It was working off a small generator that ran only the kitchen. Well, for now she’d have to get used to it. For better or worse, she had to make a go of this. And of Arlo.

For the first time, Layla really wondered why she had raised her hand so quickly. But it was too late to worry over that, especially when she had so many other things to fret about now. Snakes, something called Chauncy, rain, difficult conditions, Arlo It was almost too much. Still, she was here, trying to convince herself she could do this. She had to. Arlo might suffer a little if she backed out, but his patients were the ones who really counted. Because of them, Layla would fight her way through and hope she was good enough. No matter what Arlo or anybody else thought, she was about being a doctor. A good doctor. As good a doctor as Arlo.

“What happened to your back?” Layla asked, as they both went to greet a patient who’d wandered in the door. A little boy with a scratch on his arm. He couldn’t have been more than five or six, and Layla escorted the child to the exam room and pointed to the table, indicating for the child to hop up.

“I strained it a little,” Arlo said, surprised and even flattered that she was paying that much attention. But Layla had always been observant. Sometimes too observant, especially when she’d picked up on one of his moods—moods he’d tried hard never to show. Yet she’d always known, just like now. “I fell off a roof. Actually, the roof caved in a little under my weight. That accounts for the hole over your cot.” He said something to the child, who giggled with delight then made hand gestures to indicate someone falling. “Which is tarped, by the way. So the leak is only a drip.”

“Should I ask what you were doing on a roof?” Layla found the antiseptic and scrubbed the child’s wound, then dressed it with a bandage.

“Not unless you want to hear all about Chauncy.”

“Ah, yes, my mysterious bed partner. So, why were you up on the roof with this Chauncy?”

“He got stuck. I had to help him down.” Arlo dug into his cargo pockets and pulled out a sweet for the child, said something to him again, then sent the boy on his way, holding onto his sweet like it was the best prize in the world.

“Do children often come here alone?” Layla asked.

“The children here mature at an early age. Chanchai, the little boy who was just here, scratched his arm bringing in fishing nets.”

“But he’s only—”

“I know. By your standards you see a very young child. But by the standards here, he’s a contributing member of the village and he has an important job. The twenty or thirty bahts here might only be a dollar or less in your currency, but that money goes to help support his family, making Chanchai’s contribution very important.”

“He’s veryresilient.”

“All the people here are. They work hard for their families, and even the young ones know to come to me if they’re hurt, or not feeling well. Of course, it’s easy to persuade them when they know you carry sweets in your pockets.” He smiled. “Which isn’t so different from anywhere, is it? I remember you during your pediatric rotation always stocking up candy for the children, even though your attending physician frowned on it.”

“Because my doctor did that when I was a child. It made the whole medical experience less frightening.”

Arlo chuckled. “Remember that one little boy who’d follow you up and down the hall in his wheelchair, never saying a word but always giving you that sad look when you gave a sweet to another child?”

“Geordie. I haven’t thought of him in years. He did manage to finagle his fair share, didn’t he?”

“Because you were a pushover when it came to children. It surprised me that you went into general surgery and not pediatrics. You were so good with the kids.”

“Pediatrics broke my heart too often. I—um—To be an effective doctor I needed to be more detached.”

For someone who tried so hard to be stone-hearted, he’d seen through the façade to a very soft, caring woman. It had shone in Layla’s face every time she’d looked at one of her pediatric patients. She couldn’t hide it—at least, not from him. “Well, you would have been good at it, and you will get your fair share of children to treat here.”

“Hope I’m up to it better than you were up to your climb on the roof with Chauncy. Who is?”

Arlo put the antiseptic and bandages back in the cabinet, looked out the window and spun around to face her.

“He’s actually just come home. Want to come meet him?”

He waved at Samron, an aged widow who spent several hours each day in Happy Hospital, cleaning, doing laundry, serving meals and other jobs that gave her something to keep her busy. She was also the self-appointed receptionist who greeted patients when they came in.

“I’ll be across the street if you need me,” he said to her.

Yes,” she answered, smiling. “With pretty lady doc. Your wife?”

Arlo chuckled, then explained to Layla. “They all want me to settle down, get married, start a family. I’m usually on the receiving end of a fix-up at least twice a month. Somebody’s sister, or cousin, or daughter.”

“Sounds like they care about you.”

“Maybe a little too much.” He smiled at Samron and shook his head. “Not wife. New lady doc. Doc Layla.”

Samron nodded, but her smile told the story, and it was all about Arlo and Layla, together. “Doc Layla,” she repeated, then pressed the palms of her hands together in a prayer-like fashion, bent her head ever so slightly and said, “Wai,” a customary Thai greeting.

Layla did the same, then followed Arlo into the road. “She seems very nice,” she said.

“And very helpful. She also volunteers at the school. And on the weekends she spends time with new mothers in the village, helping them with their babies. She’s a very respected person here.”

“Respect is important,” Layla said. “Too many people have forgotten what it is.”

“Well, it’s not like that here. If you earn respect, you’re given respect.” Arlo entered his hut and went straight to the curtain separating the room into two. Then pulled it back to reveal

“What is that?” Layla asked, her eyes wide open.

“This is Chauncy, my civet cat. We co-habit.”

“A civet cat is?”

“Something like a cat, only a little larger with a face kind of like a big rat. They’re nocturnal so they have really glowy eyes.”

“And your civet cat got stuck up on the roof and when you went to get him you fell through? Couldn’t he have come down himself? I’m assuming civet cats can climb. You know, the law of jungle survival and all that.”

“They can, but Chauncy’s not good at it. He had a broken leg when I found him, and it healed leaving him lame. So he can climb up pretty well, but getting down is the problem.”

“And now he’s your house cat?”

“Pretty much.” Arlo smiled. “You’ll get used to him.”

Layla took a couple steps closer, then stared down at the creature who didn’t resemble a cat, curled up on the cot she would use. “He’s clean, I suppose,” she said, bending down to pet him. “And he doesn’t bite?”

“Very clean. He doesn’t really wander out in the jungle anymore. He’s pretty domesticated, and since the people here all know him, they feed him, which makes him too fat, which also makes him lazy. And, no, he doesn’t bite. Also, his scent gland was removed since he had to be domesticated for his survival, so you’re safe there as well.”

She bent to pet Chauncy, who raised his head long enough to decide she was no threat, then immediately went back to sleep. “He’sbeautiful,” she said, speaking in a whisper so she didn’t disturb him.

“I recall you liked cats.” Arlo had been concerned that living with a wild animal might cause Layla problems since she was strictly big city but watching her relate to Chauncy gave him a whole new appreciation for her. In fact, he admired the way she simply accepted the fact that she’d be curling up with a jungle creature. That wasn’t the Layla he remembered. She’d beenhighly strung.

“Cats, dogs, civet cats. All God’s creatures, Arlo. Just didn’t expect to be sleeping with one. But when you’re in the jungle I suppose you sleep with the civet cats when you must.” She tiptoed away from Chauncy then moved to the opposite side of the cottage. “Just no snakes,” she said. “They’re free to roam around all they want outside the hut, but not inside, please.”

Arlo laughed. He’d always liked her practicality. When other female med students had been trying to attract him by flirting or making offers that hadn’t interested him, Layla had been the one who hadn’t noticed him. Which had made him want her to.

And he’d worked hard to get her attention, finding out afterward, when they were together, that’s what she’d wanted all along. But she’d been so inexperienced—not shy, though—as much as reserved. Like she had been testing the water and he had been the water. But it had been cute watching her find her way in their relationship. Even after that night with the popcorn, there had been so many things she hadn’t known. Things he’d delighted in showing her. Simple things like hiking in the woods. Complicated things such as the profound pleasure an uncomplicated massage could offer.

She’d led a sheltered life, though. Hadn’t ever really had anyone there to guide her. She also hadn’t had to contend with civet cats, snakes and elephants daily, the way he’d done, growing up. Talk about opposites Honestly, he’d always been a little protective of that side of her. Now he wondered if it still existed, and if it did, would it bring that out in him again? “Snakes have their place. If you know which ones won’t kill you.”

“Good information to have handy,” Layla said in the matter-of-fact tone Arlo remembered, oh, so well, as she sat cross-legged on the floor near the door and patted the floor next to her. It was a tone that meant she was trying to stay aloof, trying to avoid contact, commitment or whatever else frightened her. Understandably, she was probably more frightened of him right now than snakes. Yet here she was, trying to face it. That was a new side of her, one he liked a lot.

“So, since we don’t have proper facilities in here, I suppose buying a luxurious spa tub with soothing jets and all kinds of bubble bath is out of the question? As well as a heated towel rack?”

Arlo laughed as he sat down “Afraid so, but we’ve got a stream about half a mile from here where the water’s pretty warm this time of year. And if the temperature’s hot enough, the rocks heat up so you can consider that your heated towel rack.”

“You always kept me amused, Arlo. I remember some of those long nights of studying after a long day of working in the hospital, when I thought I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor. Then there you’d be, cooking me some of the worst food I’d ever eaten, or strumming your guitar and making up songs that didn’t make sense.”

“They were in Thai,” he defended.

“No, they were in gibberish. Even I recognized that. And if I hadn’t, the look on your face would have given you away.”

“There were good times, weren’t there?” Arlo asked, twisting his back to find a comfortable position.

“And bad ones. I just wish we’d had the bad ones at the beginning so when we finally decided to call it quits we’d have had the good ones closest to us. It would have made the memories better, I think.”

He had good memories of her and that was the problem. The memories were too good for a couple that was destined to break up. “And here we are, together again.”

“But not for that reason,” Layla warned. “I really do want to prove myself and working here should earn me some”

“Some what?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Has your cooking gotten any better?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

“Actually, my brother Eric—you remember me talking about him, don’t you?”

“The rich one.”

“One and the same. Anyway, he sent me a yakitori grill. And while I’m not good at preparing a meal on it, I do make a mean cup of tea.”

“A yakitori grill? Does that mean you’ve been to Japan?”

“No, my brother lives there. He sent it to me. But I haven’t had time to visit him yet.”

“So, you’ve got a civet cat and a yakitori.” She reached out and squeezed Arlo’s arm—an affectionate gesture from the past that came so naturally.

“That about sums it up.”

“And that makes you a happy man?”

“Along with my practice. You know me. Simple needs.”

“And mine weren’t, were they?”

“Let’s just say that you gravitated more toward the finer things in life. Probably still do, for all I know.”

Layla sighed. “To be honest, I don’t have time for all the finer things in life. Most of my time is spent working.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Probably because you always knew I was ambitious. I think I probably slammed that in your face a thousand times in those two years, didn’t I?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say that I was well aware of your preferences and leave it at that.”

“Was I that bad, Arlo?”

“You were never bad, Layla. Neither was I. But as a couplewell, our destinies precluded everything else. Maybe that’s what was bad. That, and those fifty pairs of shoes on the closet floor that left me no room for my two pairs.”

He smiled, thinking about how he’d practically lived out of a suitcase during those two years because her clothes had taken up every inch of hanging space in both bedrooms. But that had been part of her charm. At least, to him it had been, because he’d loved watching her make the decision of what to wear.

It would take hours sometimes, and she’d always asked his opinion. Do you like me in this? Is this one better than the other one? It always made him feel a part of something other than the jungle or his parents’ life. Something he liked, even though it was temporary.

“Never more than forty, Arlo. Unless you count boots.”

He laughed out loud. Couldn’t help himself. Even though they weren’t a couple, something about the old familiarity was sinking back in, making him feel like, well—what he hadn’t felt like since they had been a couple. “Well, no worries about that here, since this hut doesn’t have a closet.”

“To think this is where you expected me to live. And that was back when I only had thirty pairs of shoes.”

“Sixty,” he teased.

“We’ll compromise at twenty,” she said, smiling.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I never expected you to take me up on my offer. But in a few of my more stupid moments, I did hope.”

“Not stupid, Arlo. Hope is never stupid.”

“Except when it came to us.”

Layla smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “So, is a hose for a shower and no closets what you still want? I know you feel an obligation to stay here, but has anything changed?”

“No, not really. Because this is where I’ve always worked from the time I was five or six, just like little Chanchai. It’s everything I knew I wanted, probably because this is the kind of medicine my parents practiced, and I respected what they did. I mean, I was raised in the jungle, Layla. Conceived here, born here. It’s what I know. What I want. Taking care of people who wouldn’t otherwise get medical help—I could have gone in with Ollie after I graduated, but it wouldn’t have made me happy, not the way my practice here does.”

“Then you’re where you belong. Following your heart is always the best way.”

“Have you ever done that, Layla? Followed your heart?”

She shook her head. “That’s not who I am. I follow my choices, but you already knew that.”

“I hope your choices have made you happy so far.”

“They’ve made me what I want to be—successful.”

And somehow Layla seemed almost as vulnerable as she had when they’d first been together. The girl who’d been afraid to approach him. The girl who’d never fully invested herself in life. Was it because of her money? Did she still rely on that the way she had when they’d been together? Trusting that rather than trusting people?

There’d been so many times when she’d found it easier to buy her way into a situation rather than rely on her intellect and amazing abilities to come up with a better way. Was that who she still was? Because that was a part of Layla he’d never understood. So independent, yet so willing to fall back into habits she’d said she wanted to be rid of. Even if they hadn’t been going in separate directions, that’s the thing that would have killed them.

“I suppose I thought that after you’d spent so much time back in the States during medical school, then residency, maybe this wouldn’t have the same appeal you remembered.”

“It has more, now that I’m an adult and can fully appreciate what I have here—like the freedom of doing what I want to do without a lot of interference from anyone. My patients are the best, which makes up for my less than spectacular accommodation. And it’s nice caring for people who are grateful for my services and not ones who make unreasonable demands.”

He laughed. “Remember the surgical patient who wanted me to do both a hernia repair and a nose reduction in the same surgery? The guy actually reported me to Administration because I refused, not that my attending would have allowed such a thing even if I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t. But he made my life miserable for a couple of weeks, calling and complaining over and over.”

“If I recall, he thought he’d get a discount that way. Two surgeries for the price of one anesthesia. Guess he didn’t consider that general surgeons aren’t plastic surgeons. Or maybe that didn’t matter to him. You were pretty agitated at the time.”

“And you made me chicken noodle soup—from a can.”

“Because it was supposed to make you feel better.”

“When you were ailing, Layla. I wasn’t ailing. I was angry.” He smiled. “But it was a nice gesture, having someone take care of me like that. Did I ever tell you how much I appreciated that?”

“No. You told me it wasn’t hot enough, then told me to reheat it in the microwave. But you did leave me that flower the next day—the one you picked from the garden at our apartment building. I pressed it and kept it until, well—I probably still have it tucked in a book somewhere. It was the first gift you ever gave me.” Layla smiled, and leaned her head over on his shoulder, a natural thing she’d always done once upon a time. “I’m glad it’s working for you, Arlo.”

“Ium” Arlo pulled away from her so quickly she almost fell sideways to the ground. “We’ve got work to do,” he said, his voice suddenly stiff.

“Did I do something?” she asked, trying to recover from his abruptness.

Arlo shook his head as he stood. “We did something a long time ago and I don’t want to repeat it. You’re not easy to resist, Layla. God knows, I was never able to. But not anymore. My work—my practice here won’t allow me that kind of distraction.”

“That’s right. I was just your holiday girl, wasn’t I? Well, don’t worry. I’m nobody’s holiday now, and I never will be again.” Without another word, Layla marched out of the hut and across the road to the hospital, grabbed the schedule off the desk at the front and saw that the next three patients due in needed general care—a wound check, an antibiotic shot and a maternity appointment. They weren’t there yet, but when they arrived they would find Dr. Layla Morrison waiting for them in the exam.

And Dr. Arlo Benedict standing outside in the road, in the rain, wondering how two people who’d gotten it so right could have also gotten it so wrong.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS GETTING ON in the day when Layla finally gathered up the courage to go back to the hut to face him. Overall, seven patients had come to the hospital and she’d managed to figure out what each one wanted. Luck had been with her on that one. That, plus some translation help from Samron, who seemed genuinely pleased to be useful.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asked Arlo, who was heading back to the hut at the same time she was.

“A couple of times. My house call patients always like to offer food.” He handed her a wooden plate covered with a cloth napkin. “Khao pad. It’s a fried rice with several different vegetables and pork in it. There’s also some mixed fruit.”

“I, um—I don’t know what to say except thank you and I’m sorry. This is awkward and I know it, and I shouldn’t have gotten so familiar. Leaning against you that way was inappropriate, but just for a few minutes we were almost—us. The way we started anyway. From now on I’ll keep my distance.”

“And I never meant to imply you were a holiday girl. You were my break from reality, and you knew that. But I never thought of you as someone who was there only for a good time, someone to use at my convenience, and I’m sorry that’s how it sounded.”

“I know who we were, Arlo. From the very first day until the last one, I always knew. I also know that’s not what you thought of me but, like I said, it’s awkward now.” She peeked at the food under the cloth, and her mouth practically watered. “Mind if I heat this up on your yakitori?”

“Communal property while you’re here, Layla. What’s mine is yours.”

“So, where do I put my fifty pairs of shoes?”

He laughed as they went inside together, she straight to the yakitori, to lay the fire beneath it, and he to his mat on the floor. But when he lowered himself to it, he winced.

“I really do need to have a look at that,” she said, pulling a matchbox from a shelf and lighting the fire. “Even if I can’t see anything, maybe I can feel which muscle is giving you problems and manipulate some of that soreness out of it. Strictly medical, of course.” She turned around and studied him for a moment. It wasn’t quite dark in the hut yet, but it wasn’t quite light either. Yet somewhere in the ebbing of the day she saw traces of the man who’d shared her bed for nearly two years mingling with traces of a man she didn’t know.

“You’ve changed,” Layla said, not caring that he could see her assess him. His hands—yes, she was a handsy type. Always looked at the hands second. Neck first. Eyes. Mouth. But right now she was wondering if his hands would still be soft. They looked soft, and she wondered what they would feel like on her skin again. Caressing her. Causing her to tingle

No, this wasn’t allowed. No memories. No fond thoughts of what they’d had. Still, Arlo Benedict, for his un-trendy ways, was a rugged and well-proportioned man. A head-turner. Always had been, and she was pretty sure he’d never even been aware of it.

“How?” he asked. “And if it’s in a bad way, please lie to me. I know the jungle can be harsh.”

“Quite the contrary. You lookmore mature. Not so much in the physical sense as what I can see in your eyes.”

“I think that’s called wisdom. Before I went to medical school I was here with my parents, working as their helper. They had everything under control and that’s what I expected to come back to. But when I did come back, my mother was gone, and my dad wasn’t the same. He stayed around long enough to help me find my way, then he went to live his own life, leaving me here with a lot of expectations that weren’t mine to have. I expected what my parents had but my reality was that I had to build my own place here, gain trust that was mine and not my parents’. So I wised up pretty fast. Had to in order to survive.”

“Well, it looks good on you.” Layla turned back to the yakitori, pulled a metal pot off the shelf above it and dumped in her fried rice. While it heated, she ate large chunks of papaya and mango with her fingers.

“You’ve changed, too,” Arlo said, still wrestling to find a comfortable position. “You used to bereserved. Or at least not as sure of yourself. You grew out of that a little while we were together but now you’re this dynamic ball of fire that plows through everything. Instead of talking about what you wanted to happen, you’re making things happen in your life, and I’m glad it’s working out for you.”

She pulled the rice off the little stove then turned back to face him. “Care to share?” she asked, thinking of the many times they’d ordered one meal and shared it, both eating from the same plate. Sometimes feeding each other. Often with just fingers. So nice. Sensual. So much intimacy in such a simple gesture.

Patting his flat belly, Arlo shook his head. “When I make evening calls, I have to pace myself with what I eat because everybody wants to cook for me.”

“And I usually grab something from the hospital before I leave for the evening.” She wrinkled her nose. “Haven’t learned to cook properly yet.”

“Well, I didn’t move in with you because you were a domestic goddess. And I did know that you sneaked in a maid to do the cleaning.”

“Seriously?” And she’d thought she’d been so stealthy about it.

“Remember that vacuum we bought? You didn’t even know how to turn it on. It was a flip switch. On and off. And you didn’t know how. Yet the apartment was always spotless.” He laughed so hard it caused a spasm in his back. “I let you keep your secret because you were trying so hard to be domestic that I didn’t want you to know I was well aware of the real you.”

“Only once a week,” she said, taking her plate of rice across the room and sitting down across from Arlo. At a safe distance. So there was no way to lean, or touch, or even accidentally brush up against him. “And I really thought you didn’t catch on.”

“Oh, I caught on. But it wascute, how you’d try to hide things. Like more shoes, when you bought them. I was always wise to you, Layla.”

“But I was never wise to you. So, how did that happen?”

“I think we see what we want to see. Or we don’t see what we don’t want to see. I don’t think you wanted to see the real me.”

“Yet you wanted to see the real me.”

“Because there was so much to see. So many facets.” He smiled. “And secrets.”

“Secrets? Besides the shoes and the maid, and the takeaway food. Oh, and the laundry”

“You had someone do the laundry?”

She nodded, watching his face for a reaction. Which happened immediately in a broad smile and a loud laugh. “Are you kidding me? Because I never knew that.”

“I didn’t want you thinking I was too incompetent. But I didn’t know how to sort laundry or even turn on a machine.”

“So, who?”

“The woman who worked for my mother. She’d stop by a couple times a week, grab what needed to be cleaned and leave what she’d already done. So, is there a secret behind those sandals?” She referred to the well-worn pair sitting on the shelf outside the door. “Because I don’t see another pair of shoes in here.” Traditionally, shoes were left outside on a rack, and houses were entered either barefoot or in socks. It was interesting that Arlo respected tradition enough to do that in his own hut, where he wouldn’t have to if he didn’t want to. It was a nice quality, paying homage to a tradition that wasn’t his. Yet he fit this place so well. Much better than any place she’d ever tried to fit. She envied him that as it was something she doubted she’d ever have.

“Until I can afford a new pair, it’s them or nothing.”

“And I’m betting that once you have enough money for a new pair, you put that money to what you would consider a better use.” Arlo was like that. Always taking care of others before he took care of himself. Even when they’d been together and Layla had been struggling through a particularly difficult lesson in physiology or couldn’t quite remember the function of every bone in the body, he’d stop his studying to help her through hers.

There were so many little details she’d taken for granted then, which were coming back to her now. To think she’d had so much yet couldn’t hold onto it. And maybe, in some ways, she’d pushed it away, knowing she came in second to his dream—a dream that would never include her.

“I might,” he confessed. “But the soles are still intact, the straps keep them on me, and with a little tape I’m good for now. Besides, I don’t have a closet, so where would I put them since you’ve got, what? Ten pairs lined up against the wall?” He tossed her a sexy wink.

There was something to be said for a doctor who devoted everything he had to his practice. She did admire that. Much more now that she could see it than before, when it had been mere words. And while none of this was for her in the long term, she was anxious to see how it worked. To see how Arlo worked. For his sake, she hoped everything was good for him because, despite their rocky time at the end, she did want him to be happy with his choice, even though his choice didn’t include her.

“You don’t happen to still have some of those socks I bought you, do you? They’d look stunning with your sandals.”

She smiled, thinking of all the outrageous socks and underpants she’d bought him over the course of their relationship, trying to loosen him up a bit. Not that he was stodgy. But he was a man of habit. Everything was the same—all his socks alike, the same with his underpants. So every now and then she’d thrown in something a little different and hidden one of his tried-and-trues.

At first, it had simply been colors. Red socks, plaid socks. Then figures—pickles, kittens. Santas for Christmas. Hearts for Valentine’s Day. Eventually came the unicorn socks, underpants and T-shirts. And that was when he’d finally commented. Actually, his comment had been to balk at wearing them, but by the time the unicorns had arrived he’d had no choice but to wear what she’d bought as she’d hidden everything else.

“Ah, yes. The unicorns. Those got dumped in the trash shortly after I left.”

“But you wore them.”

“Did I have a choice? You took away everything else. And did I ever tell you how badly I was ridiculed in the locker room at the hospital when I changed into my scrubs?”

“You never said a word, but I heard.”

“Everybody heard, and I was so”

“Cute. Maybe even a little bit sexy.”

“In unicorns? I was going to say I was so humiliated.”

“Yeah, but remember the night you came home and paraded those unicorns around the—” This was going too far. The memories were of something she shouldn’t be remembering. Yet being around Arlo seemed to knock down all her defenses—defenses she’d struggled to raise in the few days she’d had between knowing she was coming here until arriving. “You know what? Instead of tea, I think I’d like to go back over to the hospital to make sure I’ve replaced everything I used today.”

“You can’t run from it, Layla. We have history, and considering what we were together I’m not sure you should have come.”

She pushed herself off the floor and took the plate over to the bucket that was used for washing dishes. “I’m not denying what we had, Arlo. And you’re not the reason I’m here. I want that promotion and I thought that if Ollie saw how well I could function under adversity, that would put me one step closer.”

“Is the jungle the real adversity here, or am I?”

She didn’t answer him, because she didn’t know what to say. So maybe she’d deluded herself into believing that Arlo wouldn’t be a factor in her goals. Or maybe she’d simply hoped he wouldn’t. Whatever the case, he was an obstacle and she was going to have to be very careful. Because in the span of only one day a new truth about the way she’d felt about Arlo was trying to force itself in. And it was a truth she didn’t want to admit was there.

It was interesting, getting to again know someone he’d shared a bed with for two years. In many ways she was still the same, yet in as many ways she was different. She’d never really asked questions about how he’d live his life here when they’d been together. Mostly, she’d assumed what it would be, and had let that play on the way she accepted things. Now, watching her face his reality, she wasn’t overwhelmed the way she might have been years ago. Curious, yes. Even ready to be involved. But she was looking at things differently. Even seeing him differently. Of course, he was seeing her differently as well. Time and maturity, he supposed. And also a good dose of their own, personal realities.

“Tell me about Eric,” she said, from the other side of the curtain.

It was late, but he wasn’t ready to sleep. Neither was she, as he’d been listening to her over there for the past hour, settling in, making adjustments, arranging her belongings. Getting her cot well away from the drippy ceiling so she wouldn’t feel the splash as the leaking water hit the bucket. As he recalled, she’d never been the first to go to sleep. She was more of a polyphasic sleeper—sleeping in bursts, napping in between—while he was a hunker down and get to sleep as fast as he could kind of guy. He remembered the many nights when he’d waken briefly to find her simply staring at him. It was nice, knowing she watched him sleep.

“He’s got a good life going. Married, has a son. Living in Japan.”

“Did he ever get to see your mom before she—?”

“He did. It was difficult for both of them, especially with the way she left him when he was so young.”

“And you didn’t even know you had a brother until you were, what? Twenty?”

“Almost twenty-one.”

“I never knew how something like that could happen. I always wanted a brother or sister because I was so alone growing up. If I’d found out, only after I was an adult, that I had a brother or sister, I don’t know that I could have forgiven my parents.” She poked her head around the curtain. “Yet you’ve always seemed very calm about that.”

“Because I was.”

“But not Eric?”

“He had a lot of resentment, even after he knew the reason our mother walked away. I think being a married man with a family of his own has made it better for him. And I can’t even begin to understand what it would be like having a mother who walked away from me. But that’s what our mother did.”

“And you don’t resent her for keeping her secret?”

“What I resent was that Eric’s dad put her in the position that forced her to keep secrets from her sons. I don’t blame her for what she did, and in time I don’t think Eric will either.”

“But the good news is you have a brother.”

“And the relationship between us is getting better. Can’t say that it’s great yet. Especially since we live in two totally different worlds. But it’s nice knowing he’s out there.”

“So, did your mother ever tell you why? Or am I getting too personal?”

“It’s personal, but you lived through some of the ups and downs of it, so you have a right to know.”

She came around the curtain, with her hair up in a ponytail the ways she’d always put it up at night, but instead of the cute nightwear she used to wear—short shorts, barely there belly shirts—she was wearing knee-length cargo pants, a baggy T-shirt and boots. Still cute, in its own special way.

“She tried legally for partial custody, but Eric’s father wanted his legacy and my mother was only the means by which he could get what he wanted. After he had his son, he didn’t need her, so he kicked her out. Then after she tried to maintain a place in Eric’s life—let’s just say that in my own dad’s earlier days he wasn’t a saint. He smoked some weed, was arrested a couple of times—although he has no convictions.

“But Eric’s dad found out and used that to threaten my mother—told her he’d expose her husband, my dad, and by that time she’d had me and he also said he’d expose her as an unfit mother for allowing me to be raised by a man like my dad. Things were different back then. My mother was afraid of losing me, and afraid my dad could lose his medical license, even though there were never any real charges brought against him. Eric’s dad had a lot of power and he wasn’t afraid to use it. Also, because she’d been so abused by Eric’s dad to begin with, she simply didn’t have the wherewithal to fight him.

“So, because she feared losing both my dad and me, after she’d already lost Eric, she walked away.” He paused, then sighed. It was a sad sigh that resounded loudly through the hut, filling it with the same sadness. “My mother wasn’t a fighter, Layla. She was a very quiet, undemanding person. And after all she’d already suffered”

“I’m so sorry,” Layla whispered. “You didn’t know this when we were—?”

He shook his head. “My dad only told me the whole story a couple years ago. He kept my mother’s secret for a long time, then finally decided it was time I knew everything.”

“And you told Eric?”

“He had a right to know. He was settling into his new life and I knew he harbored a lot of resentment for our mother, but because his son was our mother’s grandchild, I thought for Riku’s sake—that’s his name—everybody needed to know the truth. And I did want my nephew to know how amazing his grandmother was. She was part of his heritage and he deserves to know the good about her. Eric didn’t want to know, but for the sake of his son I had to tell him.”

“I wish I’d known. Wish I could have helped you. Some things are so difficult when you’re alone. I really am sorry for that.”

“Well, the good news is Eric now has memories of a mother he can be proud of, and Riku has a grandmother who would have loved him more than life itself. He’ll understand that when he’s old enough. Eric will make sure.”

Layla wiped a tear siding down her cheek. “And your father?”

“In Cambodia. Doing well. Running a little clinic in a tourist area.”

“And I thought I had it bad because while I had my parents’ time, I never really had their love. At least, love in the sense that I think parents should have for their children.”

“Maybe they did the best they could, the way my mother did.”

“They do,” she admitted. “But that understanding comes as an adult, not as a child who was simply lonely. Anyway, I’m going to get some sleep. It’s been a long, full day and since Chauncy has vacated my bed now, I think it’s time.”

This time, Arlo lay awake long after Layla was asleep, thinking back on the day. This morning, he’d known someone was coming. Hadn’t known who but wasn’t surprised as Ollie would have sent him only the best. And Layla was the best. It concerned him she was here, but he was also looking forward to the next couple of months with her. No deluding himself about anything, though. She was still Layla, and Layla didn’t belong here. On top of that, she didn’t want to belong here. But over the course of the years there’d been many, many times when he’d wondered what it would be like, having Layla at his side.

Well, for a little while he had that chance, and he was glad about that. What he wasn’t glad about were the feelings that would hit him again once she’d gone. He’d been through that and had been nearly crippled by emotions he’d never expected. It wasn’t until he’d left her that he’d truly realized how much he’d loved her. This time he was smarter. No hearts involved meant no hearts broken. And she was clear that her heart was in her career and nowhere ese. But his? Where was it?

“Damn,” he muttered, as he blew out the kerosene lamp and turned over on his side. Winced because of his back. Then turned again.

“I really do need to look at that,” she said from the other side of the curtain. “Tomorrow. I’ll pencil you in as my first appointment of the day.”

He smiled. She never gave up. That may have been one of the things he’d loved most about her back then. But now?

“Baby’s on the way”

Layla didn’t open her eyes when Arlo’s voice wafted over her. It was a dream. They were cozy in their apartment, cuddled up, studying. Maybe some playing mixed in. And he was explaining

“Contractions just a couple of minutes apart, Layla.”

“Dilated?” she asked, her mind still all snuggly on a sofa back in New York.

“Has been since yesterday, when I checked her.”

She loved his voice when it was all serious. It was deeper, sexier. “Epidural, I’m assuming,” she said.

“We don’t do epidural out here.”

“Better call anesthesia.” He should have already done that. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t.

“Do you want to come with me, Layla?”

“Where?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“To deliver a baby.”

This time her eyes shot open and she realized where she was. Not in Arlo’s arms, studying the basics of childbirth, but in a jungle hut with a patient who was ready to deliver. She bolted upright. “Who’s with her?” she asked, sliding off the cot and running over to the door to grab her boots.

“Empty them first,” Arlo warned. “I can’t handle a delivery and a snakebite at the same time.”

Reality. This was her reality for a while. She shook the dream away totally as vigorously as she shook her boots. “How long has she been in labor?”

“Off and on since yesterday. I checked her earlier, when I was making rounds, and contractions were still about ten minutes apart. But it seemed to have sped up.”

“How long have I been sleeping?” she asked. The fact was her sleeping was so erratic, she often didn’t know.

“About two hours.”

“And you’ve been working”

“About the same.”

Layla grabbed her medical rucksack and rushed out the door. Arlo followed, amused by the way she went from sound asleep to at the ready. She’d always been a little bit difficult to wake, but once he’d succeeded she’d been on the spot, bright-eyed and ready to go. “Her mother’s with her. And her grandmother. Also, there’s a midwife, and she’ll do most of the work.”

“So what will we do?” she asked.

“Respect the traditions. I just thought you might want to see how this works, since we’ve got at least a dozen more pregnant women in the village and you’ll no doubt be called to watch but not participate in the birth unless there’s a problem.”

“I know a lot of places in the world don’t welcome outside interference. Is this one of them?”

“No. They love having a hospital. It’s the only one around for nearly a hundred miles, so they take pride in having medical services here. But they also have their traditions, which I don’t interfere with unless they become a problem.” He pointed to a well-apportioned hut, one with a door, at the end of the road. “It’s bigger than yours,” she said, following him up the path to the front door.

“Because I don’t have my parents, grandparents and children living with me. Family is a large part of their tradition.”

Which she saw for herself when she and Arlo went inside. There were women cooking, children playing, men talking. And in the doorway to the area where the bedrooms probably were stood an old woman holding a tiny bundle in her hands. “I see they didn’t really need us,” Layla said, pushing her way through the crowd to look at the newborn. The old woman, named Hanni, immediately put the baby in Layla’s arms then headed off to the area where the food was being prepared. In her medical practice Layla didn’t deal with children and, in all honesty, she hadn’t even handled one since her rotation through Pediatrics during her residency. And this one—he was so tiny. Red, wrinkled and screaming for all he was worth.

“They named him Arlo,” Arlo said, stepping to her side.

“Even though you didn’t deliver him?”

“It’s a tribute.”

“So, how many little Arlos are running around the village?”

“At last count, five. This Arlo makes number six.”

“Well, if ever there was a village legacy” Layla grinned, reaching down to take baby Arlo’s tiny fingers. “Suppose you have a son someday and want to call him Arlo? What then?”

“Just accept the fact that he’ll be one of the many.” He pulled back the blanket to have a better look at the baby. “You look good with a baby. Ever thought that maybe you might?”

“I haven’t changed on that,” she said. “I told you back then I didn’t want children, and I still don’t. I’m the living proof of how badly it can work out when the parents are all about career, and I’d never want that for my child because, in my family, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, even though the career tree is different.” She handed the baby over to him. “Think I’ll go look in on the mother to make sure she’s getting along OK.” And to get away from the cozy feeling of home and family that was coming over her.

“I’ve got another house call to make after this,” he called after her. She heard him but didn’t respond as she ducked out of the room and found an empty room down the hall where she could hide long enough to gather her wits. And will her hands to stop shaking. Of everything that was going to be difficult here, this might be the worst. Because she’d had these thoughts before. Although she’d never told Arlo. What was the point when their directions were so vastly different?

It was mid-afternoon when they caught up again. Layla had taken the hospital calls while Arlo had done rounds in the village.

It was nice having her here to help him. While his assistant was good, he wasn’t a doctor so his duties were limited. But having two doctors here—the way his parents had been—would be nice. Even after only a day and a half, he was getting spoiled by it.

But not spoiled enough to let himself believe the other doctor would be Layla. Because, as they said, a leopard didn’t change its spots. Neither did Layla. One look at the baby and the almost panicked expression on her face had said it all.

“I’ve got a house call to make. It’s out some way, so I thought you’d like to go with me to see some of the countryside. And if you don’t, could I borrow your SUV?”

They were both back in the hut, getting tidied up for the rest of the day. When Arlo peeked around the dividing curtain to talk to her, he had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing. Chauncy had managed to find his way onto Layla’s lap, and she was simply sitting cross-legged on the cot, petting him. Normally, he wasn’t quite so friendly with strangers, but Layla did have a way about her. Especially considering that Chauncy wouldn’t even cuddle up to him that way.

Somehow, seeing a gray, ring-tailed raccoon-looking mongoose-rat creature all cozy with her caused a lump to form in his throat. This was the other side of her, one he’d loved as much as he’d loved her harder side. There’d been times when she’d just snuggle into him for no reason and simply exist in his embrace. No kidding, no anything else. Just touch. Sensation. And he’d enjoyed those moments as they’d felt so caring. So consuming.

“What do we have?” she asked, plucking a quartered mango from a bowl next to her and handing it to Chauncy.

As the juice dribbled down her arm, Arlo could almost imagine himself kissing her arm along its trail. Stopping at her neck. Kissing ithe loved the way she was so ticklish there. As hard as she’d tried to fight it, she couldn’t. And the fightit had always led to more. A little shove back onto the bed, some pillow play, clothes flying everywhere But these were dangerous thoughts, as he began to experience the stirrings of feelings and emotions he hadn’t had in a long, long time. And while they were sexual, they weren’t purely sexual the way they had been before. “It’s dengue fever. Two members of one household.”

“Hemorrhagic?”

Arlo raised his eyebrows in bold appreciation. “I see you know your dengue fever.”

“A little. I did some reading on the plane. Not enough, but as much as I could to give me a good start here.”

“Well, then—no. It’s not hemorrhagic. But it did come on in the typical symptoms: high fever, headache, vomiting, muscle and joint pain, and a characteristic skin rash. We’re at the end of it, too. This will probably be my last trip out there, which means the house calls on this one will be yours in the future, because dengue can relapse. So rather than having me do a daily check, you can do one every three or four days for a couple of weeks.”

“Your treatment choice?” she asked.

“Supportive, for the most part. It’s a mother and her five-year-old daughter. The rest of the family is fine.”

“And by supportive you mean force liquids and treat other symptoms as they occur?”

“Exactly. Since it’s a virus, that’s about all we can do. Kanika and her daughter Achara went home from the hospital yesterday morning. They’d been here the week prior, and now Kanika’s mother will be taking care of them until they’re fully recovered. People here really opt for short-term stays. Or home care, when they can. So, from here on out it’s mostly just rest and proper nutrition. And better mosquito netting.”

“Do you see much dengue out here?” Layla asked.

“A fair amount, but not epidemic-sized. There have been efforts by the government to control the mosquitoes, but some of the remote areas such as this don’t get a lot of help. I’ve petitioned for more netting and was allocated some, but not enough.”

“Then I’ll get some. How many do I need and who do I contact to make arrangements?”

“I’ve already petitioned for it, Layla. It will get here in due course.”

“Could I get it here faster?”

“In the jungle, patience is a virtue. We get what we need, but sometimes we have to wait.”

“And in the meantime people are being exposed to mosquito-borne disease. Why would you want to be patient about that?”

This was the same old Layla. Impatient for results. Impatient to move up. Impatient to get to the next thing on her list. He’d gotten used to it but coming from a place where impatience produced ulcers more than it did results, he’d never been one to indulge. And he worried that she did as it increased the chance that she would continually be dissatisfied in her life.

Impatient people risked feeling overwhelmed. They set themselves up for failure and got down on themselves when it happened. And they burned out easily. Layla was too bright to burn out, but her impatience was leading her straight down that path. He’d warned her over and over when they’d been together. She hadn’t listened. Or maybe she’d thought she was somehow impervious to the pitfalls.

He didn’t know which, but the Layla standing here with him right now hadn’t budged from the Layla of the past. “Because that’s the way it is here. We get what we need when it’s available and always keep in mind there are twenty-five regions here, and each one has several hospitals just like ours, all needing the same things we need. Everybody gets served, but we have to realize that we’re not the only ones in line.”

“But what if I can cut that line?”

“I can’t stop you. I never could. But be careful that cutting that line doesn’t cost you somewhere later in your career. We’re not impatient people out here, Layla. And we don’t see the stress-related disease brought on by impatience here the way so many doctors see it in the more civilized societies. But you already know that.”

“So what you’re saying is you wouldn’t support me trying to use my connections to get you what you need?”

“What I’m saying is we all do what we have to do. If buying netting from a private source is what you must do, then do it.”

“And in return I’ll get to listen to you complain.”

“No. I don’t complain about anything anyone donates, Layla. In fact, I’m grateful for it. And if you buy netting, I’ll be grateful for that. But you do need to know what you’re facing since you’ll be working here for a while. It’s rewarding and frustrating, in that order. And if you let it, it will tear you up.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Arlo.”

He smiled. “Sometimes I wonder about that myself. But, for the most part, it works out. And I’ve got five hundred people living in the village and the same number living just outside who support me and help any way they can. And they’re not impatient when they have to wait. I’m also not treating one ulcer in my whole practice.”

“Point taken. But I still want to support you with some netting.”

Ah, yes. The stubborn Layla got the last word. He’d expected it. And back when they’d been together, the making up that had come afterward had almost been worth the disagreement. It had always been more—intense. Arlo smiled, remembering. Almost missing those times. “And let me thank you in advance, because mosquitoes are a huge problem. So, tell me. Does your impatience get in the way of your medical practice? And I’m not trying to start something here. More like curious about an aspect of you I’ve always known.”

“It’s part of who I am as a doctor. When I order a test, I don’t want to wait days for the results. When I order medications, I want them immediately. My patients expect that from me. So does your grandfather.”

“He doesn’t mind your impatience?”

“It gets results, so why should he?”

“You’re always about the climb, aren’t you?”

“That shouldn’t come as news. And maybe time has escalated my impatience,” she said, smiling. “However it works, it serves my patients well, and that’s always the bottom line for me.”

“But what about your own personal bottom line, Layla? I know you have an agenda, as most people do, but what happens to you if something derails it? What if you don’t get this promotion? You’ve been working for it the whole time you’ve been a doctor, so what do you do with yourself when it doesn’t happen? Do you take stock of the things you’ve put aside to get it? Do you regret what you’ve missed on that climb?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “For me, my life is designed around forward momentum. If that stopped, if I couldn’t get where I wanted to go, I have no idea what I’d do. Maybe try someplace else. Maybe still keep pushing despite the roadblock.”

“At what cost, though?”

“Do you really care, Arlo?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I know how you struggle to get ahead. I lived with it until I realized I couldn’t compete with it.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” she said.

“I don’t regret what we were, Layla. I walked away from us as a better man. But I did worry about your direction. In a lot of ways, it was much more difficult than mine. It still is.” And, yes, he still worried. More than he should.

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