Читать книгу Wildfire Island Docs - Алисон Робертс - Страница 17

IT WAS A day without end, or so it seemed to Caroline when they returned to the hospital.

‘Would you mind keeping an eye on things while Keanu, Hettie and I have some dinner?’ Sam greeted her. ‘Hettie’s cooking because Vailea’s already preparing for the funeral feast and there’s stuff the three of us have to go over, including juggling the roster for the funeral tomorrow.’

‘No worries,’ Caroline assured him, ‘though you’d better tell me what to do in an emergency. Do I go to the back door and yell?’

‘Oh, you don’t know the system? Of course not, you’ve barely arrived and we haven’t stopped working you. See the panel by the door? It was an ingenious idea worked out by your father. You hit the blue button for me—it rings in my room—the green for Hettie—and the red that will clang all through the villas for all hands on deck.’

‘No fire alarm?’ Caroline teased, and Sam pointed to the regulation fire alarm box set beside the panel.

‘Open that one and press the button and they’ll hear you over on Atangi! And the village will have men here almost as fast as the staff can get here. The hospital’s very important to all the islanders—and they’ve your father to thank for that.’

Caroline thought the conversation was over, until Sam added, almost under his breath, ‘Although we’d prefer to be thanking him in person.’

‘My father loves the island. All M’Langi. I can hear it in his voice when he talks about it, asks questions. But my mother’s death, and Christopher … It seems he blamed himself, and now he says both the hospital and Christopher need him more on the mainland. Over there he can keep a watch on Christopher’s care and also make money and lobby for money to keep this place going.’

Sam sighed and departed, but the conversation had brought Caroline’s mind back to the problems at the mine. Of course mortgaging half a house had been a stupid idea, but Keanu hadn’t come up with anything better.

Keanu …

The kiss …

Setting the past and the future firmly out of her mind, she went into the big ward, where she discovered that the boys with the coral cuts had been released. The woman with unstable diabetes was sleeping once again, as was their patient with the Biruli ulcer. The woman with the baby had also gone, so all she had to do was hang around in case she was needed.

And use the time to try to sort out the mess inside her head.

Start with the mine—there had to be some way …

But how could she think when she was hungry? She headed for the kitchen, where she found several salads made up in the main refrigerator.

‘Staff salads,’ the note attached to the shelf said, so she took one, went back into the desk in the ward to keep an eye on her patients and ate it there.

Thinking, almost subconsciously, of the grandparents she’d barely known.

How terrible for them to have lost their daughter—their only child—so far away from home. Max had flown his wife’s body back to Sydney to be buried there, and had taken first his babies, and later his toddlers—well, Christopher had never actually toddled—to visit their grandparents.

But both of them had been dead before Caroline was six so it was difficult for her to summon up more than an image of a defeated-looking old man and woman.

Defeated by grief, she’d realised, much later.

‘Are you okay? You must be tired. I can take over here if you like.’

Keanu’s arrival interrupted her unhappy thoughts.

‘No way. I have a feeling if I handed over, or even had you standing by, it would reinforce everyone’s opinion of the worthlessness of all Lockharts.’

Keanu smiled, something she wished he wouldn’t do, at least when she was around.

‘Hettie will be over soon and she’ll stay until Mina comes on, but I can at least hang around and keep you company. I’m being Maddie this week and she was on call so I might as well be here.’

He pulled a chair over from beside the wall and sat beside her at the small desk, far too close.

Caroline managed to manoeuvre her chair a little farther away from him but he was still too close. She could feel the force-field of him, as if the very air around him had taken on his essence. It was because of the kiss—she knew that. It had done something to her nerves and spun threads of confusion through her head.

‘I talked to your father,’ he said, startling her out of thoughts of kisses and physical closeness. ‘He can’t get over at the moment but has asked me to make sure the mine is closed, at least temporarily until he gets a chance to look at things and maybe get it going again.’

‘You talked to Dad?’

‘I thought it might be easier, the mine closure, coming from me and not a Lockhart. I know how distressed you are about the damage Ian’s done to the family name.’

Caroline turned so she could study him.

‘And you think you telling them will make a difference? It’s still the Lockhart mine, and with everyone connected to it now losing their incomes, of course the blame will come back on the Lockharts.’

She was so upset she had to stand up—to move—pacing up and down the silent ward while her mind churned.

It was the right thing to do—she knew that. It was far too dangerous for the miners to keep working without the tunnel being shored up.

‘I’ll do it,’ she said, suddenly weary of the whole mess, and when Keanu started to argue she even found a tired smile.

‘Best all the blame lands on us,’ she told him. ‘We don’t want everyone hating you as well.’

Keanu shot up from his chair and took her hands.

‘No one will ever blame you, Caroline,’ he said, and the feel of her hands in his—the security of her slim fingers being held by his strong ones—fired all her senses once again.

She eased away from him.

‘I have patients to check, and it’s probably best if you go, because it’s too easy to be distracted when you’re around.’

‘Really?’

He smiled as if she’d given him a very special gift, then leaned forward to peck her cheek before leaving the room.

Keanu went back to his quarters but was too restless to settle down. His phone call to Max, the closing of the mine and his still-vague idea of how to save it, his increasing attraction to Caroline—all were drawing him further and further into the web that was the Lockharts.

He couldn’t help but think of his mother, so humiliated by Ian.

Probably already ill, she’d never really overcome their banishment from the island. It was as if Ian’s words had left an enduring scar in her mind, and poison in her body. In his mother’s mind, the happy Lockhart days had gone, and the stories of the Lockharts taking her in after her own family had disowned her and her husband had died had been long forgotten.

Almost without orders from his brain, his feet took him back out of the villa that was currently his home and up the hill to the grassy slope behind the big house to where his father was buried among dead Lockharts and other islanders who’d lived and worked on Wildfire.

To the grassy slope where Alkiri would be laid to rest tomorrow …

Keanu sat down by his father’s grave, idly pulling a few weeds that had recently appeared, trying desperately, as he often did, to remember his father.

But memories of a two-year-old were dim and not particularly reliable so all he had were the stories his mother had told over the years.

His father, bright star of the school on Atangi, had been sent to the mainland for his high-school education, all the costs met by the Lockhart family. From boarding school he’d gone on to university, studying science, and returning, with the woman he’d met and fallen in love with, to Wildfire to work at the research station and begin the first investigation into the properties of M’Langi tea.

His mother’s tales had told of their early adventures, the two of them roaming the mountains on the uninhabited islands, in search of the special tree from whose bark and leaves the tea was made.

He’d been two years old when his father, working with a local friend, had been killed by a rockfall on an outer island.

Two years old when his mother and he had moved into the comfortable, self-contained annexe off the big Lockhart house. It was only after Caroline and Christopher were born, and their mother died, that old Mrs Lockhart had offered his mother a job—helping with the baby and generally running the house.

‘I thought I might find you here.’

Caroline’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

‘What are you doing? What about your patients?’

‘Hettie sent me home. Sam’s just checked our patients and decided Mina can manage them.’

She sank down beside him on the grass.

‘When I came back to work at the hospital,’ he told her, ‘I brought my mother’s ashes here and scattered them in the grass.’

‘So she and your father could be together.’

Caroline spoke quietly, a statement, not a question.

She rested her hand gently on his shoulder, and his skin burned beneath the touch, his body warring with his mind, wanting her so badly, yet here, beside his mother—

He had to tell Caro.

Now, before anything went any further …

But she was so damned insecure, wouldn’t his marriage—for all it was over now—seem like a further betrayal?

Hurt her as much as his deserting her had?

She slid her hand down his arm to grasp his fingers.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s visit my mother now.’

They’d done this so often as children, coming to the little cemetery, sitting among the graves, talking to her mother and his father, telling them what they’d been doing, laughing, and sometimes crying.

They reached Charlotte Lockhart’s memorial—a simple stone with her name and the words ‘wife and mother’—Max having given the initial of her name to both her children.

‘Hold me,’ Caroline whispered, and Keanu put his arms around her and drew her close, feeling her softness, her breasts against his chest, long silky hair tickling his neck, covering his hands that now held her to him.

She raised her head, and he caught the glisten of tears in her eyes.

Her eyes were shadowed with memories, and not happy ones. This was Caro, so he kissed them, first one and then the other, his lips sliding to her temple, teeth nibbling at her ear lobe, kisses along her jaw, although her mouth—that wide, sensual mouth—had always been his destination.

Or so it seemed as he tasted her, his tongue sliding around her lips, delving, probing.

Had her mouth opened to him?

Were her lips responding?

For a moment it seemed as if she might have been a statue, then, with a groan that started somewhere down near her toes, she kissed him back, her mouth moving on his, her hands exploring his shoulders, arms, neck, gripping at his hair, his head, holding his mouth to hers as if her life depended on it.

They were in a graveyard.

His parents were here …

Somehow his lips had slipped lower, kissing her neck, while she pressed hers against his head and murmured his name. His hand had slid beneath her shirt, found a breast, a full breast that felt heavy in his hand. His thumb strayed across the nipple, already peaked by the heat of the kiss.

She’d dragged his head back to kiss his lips, so he gave in and let her, matched the heat of her kisses, and the little moan she gave as his fingers teased the taut nipple was like honey in his mouth.

Had his legs given way that he was on his knees, still holding Caroline, their bodies pressed together? Moonlight cast shadows from the trees around the graveyard, picked out writing on the stone beside which they knelt.

Charlotte Lockhart.

Wife and mother …

Wife!

‘This is crazy,’ he whispered as he eased himself away from Caroline, his body throbbing with need, hers hot within his hands, which had settled on her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, there’s something I should have said—told you—have to tell you.’

Blue-green eyes—dazed with desire?—stared at him and she shook her head, as if trying to take in his stumbling words.

She released the grip she’d had on his shirt, raised her hands to lift his off her shoulders, then bowed her head so the hair on the top of her head brushed against his chest.

He saw her shoulders move as she took a deep breath, then she lifted her head and looked at him, into his eyes, hers questioning now but so beautiful.

Too beautiful to hurt?

Perhaps he could contact his lawyer first, before he told her, find out the situation …

Coward!

He took her hands in his and eased her back down onto the ground.

‘So tell,’ she said quietly.

But words wouldn’t come. I’m married seemed too blunt, far too hurtful.

‘It’s about attraction,’ he finally began. ‘About attraction and love and how there can be one without the other but how do you know at the beginning?’

‘Are you talking about our attraction?’ she asked, her head turned not to him but towards the distant sea, so all he could see was her profile—no emotion …

‘Not really but in a way, yes, and I should have told you earlier. I should have told you when it happened—but we’d been apart so long and I really didn’t know how to. And I certainly should have told you before I kissed you.’

Now she turned to him.

‘It’s something bad, isn’t it? You’re already married, or engaged? I should have guessed. Why wouldn’t you be?’

She went to rise, but he caught her hand and kept her on the grass beside him.

‘Married but separated for five years,’ he finally admitted. ‘It was attraction, nothing more, but we didn’t discover that until after we were married. We weren’t exactly virgins, but Mum’s greatest pain, later when she did eventually talk about Ian, was that she’d lost her moral compass—the ethical code by which she’d always lived. And that was in my mind—some half-formed ethical code that said if we were having sex we should get married. We’d met at uni, as physio and medical students—our paths crossed often—and the attraction was definitely there. Marriage seemed a great idea, but something didn’t gel. We didn’t fight, we didn’t hurt each other, we just kind of drifted in different directions and in the end sat down and talked about it and agreed it had been a mistake.’

He ran out of words and leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the silvery moon above them.

‘Where is she?’ Caro asked.

He shrugged.

‘She went to Melbourne. We didn’t keep in touch, nor did we get around to divorcing. I don’t know why—perhaps because it seemed like admitting what a huge mistake we’d made. Anyway, a couple of months ago she contacted me, told me she wanted a divorce and sent the papers. She’d met someone else, sounded so happy I was pleased for her, so I signed the papers. They’ll go before a judge some time soon, then a month and a day later I won’t be married any more.’

Caroline had sat, stunned into silence, as Keanu told his tale. Somehow, in all her thoughts of Keanu over the years, the fact that he might marry had never occurred to her.

Not that it should matter, but obviously it did, because her heart was hurting, and her throat was tight, and what she really wanted to do was hit out at him.

But why shouldn’t he have married?

Wouldn’t she have married Steve if he hadn’t dumped her when the mine had gone bad?

‘Did you think of me at all?’

She wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but heard it make its way out of her dry mouth.

‘Only every minute of the ceremony, which is when I realised how wrong it all was. But I put that aside, and gave the marriage all I had, Caro. Moral compass stuff again. We were friends as well as lovers and I didn’t want to hurt her.’

Now Caroline was sorry she’d asked the question, sorry about so much, but the pain in her heart remained and she knew she had to get away—think about this, work out why now, when it was all over, it was hurting her.

Why his being married was so ridiculously hurtful, especially as he wasn’t really married at all …

And shouldn’t he have told her all this before they’d kissed—the first time, not the last time?

Even if he wasn’t married married, shouldn’t it have been mentioned in passing?

She touched his shoulder as she stood up, then made her way up to the house, her mind so full of conjecture it felt too heavy for her neck.

Vaguely recalling, through a foggy haze of lust and shock, that Keanu had mentioned something about her being on duty at six, Caroline got herself out of bed, dressed, ate a lamington Bessie had apparently baked the previous day, drank a glass of milk and headed down to the hospital.

This time of the year, it was light by five in the morning, but half an hour later than that the morning still had a pearly glow and the sound of the birds waking up, the calm sea beyond the rainforest, and a sense of the world coming alive with a fresh new morning filled her with unexpected happiness.

True, there were problems but right now nothing, but nothing, seemed insurmountable.

Inevitably, Hettie was already there, in spite of Caroline being twenty minutes early.

‘Anahera’s off duty today and will be helping her mother with preparations for Alkiri’s funeral. In fact, the fire’s already been started in the fire pit.’

Fire? Fire pit?

The words seemed hard to understand in a hospital, until Carolyn remembered where she was and what was happening today—a funeral and funeral feast.

‘Keanu’s also gone down to the research station to help set everything up,’ Hettie added. ‘I’ll take a look at the young lad with the ulcer before I hand over. I don’t think the medication is working. I’ll talk to Sam about changing the combination, but watch him carefully and if there’s any sign of fever get Sam or Keanu here immediately.’

The diabetic patient was up and dressed.

‘Doesn’t want to miss the funeral feast,’ Hettie said dryly. ‘I’ll sign her out later.’

She turned to Caroline.

‘Okay, so you’ll only have one patient, but that’s largely because everyone knows we’re short-staffed and puts off coming to see us, either here or at the island clinics. But our one patient needs all the care we can give him, never forget that, and if you don’t get one or two coming up from the feast with burnt toes or cut fingers I’d be very surprised. Apparently, the festivities kick off at ten—well, the funeral part, anyway.’

She paused, then added, ‘I understand Alkiri was a friend of yours and you’d really like to be there, but the foreman wants to show Sam and me the laboratories—showing off, I suppose—and Keanu’s doing the oration so he has to be there. Our second aide will be here with you. Her shift doesn’t begin until eight, but if there’s any problem at all, phone me or Sam—our cell numbers are by the phone in the main office.’

Caroline took it all in, and much as her heart longed to be there to say goodbye to Alkiri, she knew being left here was a sign of her acceptance. Lockhart or not, Hettie was trusting her.

What Caroline hadn’t realised was that the statement—‘Anahera is helping her mother with the celebration feast’—meant Vailea was not in the kitchen. Apparently, nurses here made and served breakfast to their patients when called upon to do so.

Vailea—bless her heart, or perhaps her organisational skills—had a list of all meals up on a corkboard near the door. Not only were the meal menus there, but they had the requisite ‘GF’ for gluten free, and a little heart beside ones suggested for heart patients.

Back to her patients—checking their notes: no dietary restrictions for either of them.

According to—

‘How are you doing?’

Keanu was there, right behind her.

‘I thought you were busy with the hangi,’ she said, needing to say something as an almost overwhelming rush of what could only be lust weakened her knees.

She was still feeling that lust thing?

He was married!

And he hadn’t told her.

Anyway, might he not be right about the dangers of attraction, which was just a weaker word for lust?

And shouldn’t she show some reaction to this information?

But what?

‘Too many cooks,’ he said lightly, and she had to grapple her way back through her thoughts to where the conversation had started. ‘I’m not needed until a lot later. I’m doing the oration.’

The lightness vanished from his voice with the last sentence, and yet again Caroline’s first instinct was to hug him.

But hugs led to—

Well, trouble.

Change the subject.

‘You’ve been down to check? They’ve got the fire going?’

He nodded, so close now she could see the smooth golden skin of his face—the strong chin he must have shaved extra-carefully this morning.

And being that close, he must be able to see she was having difficulty breathing.

She ducked behind a table, and he stood opposite her.

‘And?’

‘The women are hanging flower leis and putting huge baskets of leaves all around the place. It’s really beautiful, Caro.’

‘Sounds lovely but I’ve got to get breakfasts,’ she managed, although her mind was on the kiss they’d shared the previous evening, not bacon and eggs.

‘I know,’ he said, his voice husky, his eyes unreadable. ‘I really wanted to tell you I went down to see Reuben this morning just to confirm the order to close the mine.’

The broad shoulders that had felt so solid beneath her hands lifted in a shrug.

‘I said it was a health and safety issue and, as a doctor overseeing that, I had the authority to issue the shutdown notice.’

Caroline sighed.

‘That was silly. You’ve put yourself into the firing line of the workers’ anger now. They already hate the Lockhart name, so what harm could a little more hate do? And as it’s Ian’s fault that the mine’s in the state it’s in, it’s a Lockhart issue anyway.’

Keanu’s sigh was almost as deep as her own.

‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ he said quietly. ‘Reuben’s going to get someone in from Atangi to fence the site and he was going to tell the small crew still working as soon as I was out of sight.’

‘So they wouldn’t rend you limb from limb?’ Caroline queried, although she couldn’t find even the slightest of smiles to go with the suggestion.

‘Probably,’ Keanu agreed. ‘But it’s done now, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about. Let’s get started on these breakfasts.’

He’d done it so she could stop worrying about it?

‘Weren’t you talking about making breakfasts?’

One word, and a practical one at that, yet tingles still ran down her spine.

‘Of course. I’ve only got two and shortly I’ll be down to one patient, but would you mind asking them what they fancy for breakfast? Vailea’s left a list—there’s scrambled, boiled or fried eggs, bacon, baked beans, toast and jam, and I think there’s cereal.’

‘I might have to have the lot to wake me up,’ he said before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

To wake him up?

It hadn’t been that late when they’d parted.

So, had he, like she, lain awake long into the night, rethinking the kiss?

Or had he been thinking about his marriage?

About his wife?

Though perhaps he’d been worried about the mine closure and his decision to be the one to tell Reuben? Kept awake by things that had nothing at all to do with the heated, almost desperate kiss and the discussion that had followed it.