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The Doctor's Rescue
Kate Hardy


GP Dr. Will Cooper had rescued a toddler from a busy road but ended up in hospital himself, with a broken arm and leg and a beautiful stranger, Dr. Mallory Ryman, by his bed! Mallory had been climbing in the area and had been the first doctor at the scene.Now Will was asking Mallory to be his locum – and live in his house so she could care for him until he recovered! But Mallory had no idea that her stay would force Will to confront some past traumatic events – nor that their mutual attraction would develop into an all-consuming passion….







“I really, really can’t stay here in hospital much longer. It’s driving me bananas,” Will said between gritted teeth. “I know you said you were planning on being our locum for a while…. Have you got digs lined up?”

Uh-oh. She had a nasty feeling she knew what was coming. “I’m staying at The Limes.”

“I’ve got a better solution,” Will said. “My spare room. If you stay at the cottage there’ll be a doctor on the premises if I get into trouble, so they’ll let me out.”

Yeah, right.

He grimaced. “Mallory, this wasn’t—isn’t—an attempt to seduce you. Sharing my cottage until I’m fit again doesn’t mean I’m expecting you to share my bed or anything like that.”

Her skin heated again. She hadn’t been thinking along those lines at all. Although now he’d mentioned it…No. He might be drop-dead gorgeous, beneath the bruising and the plaster, but she wasn’t going to have an affair with Will Cooper. She was going to be sensible, and make sure her working partnerships stayed work only. “I didn’t think you were.”




Dear Reader (#ulink_f7843fa1-c44a-5074-9078-124348097b13),


The Doctor’s Rescue started life in the most unromantic situation—at the beginning of the school run, in torrential rain, when I was wearing the least sexy raincoat in the world. I looked like a gnome. Ping! That’s where the first line of the book comes from. My poor editor just sighed when I warned her what was coming!

It also had something to do with a book I was reading on Everest. I’d love to climb a mountain. But as I get queasy on three-inch heels, the chances are pretty slim. So I decided to make my heroine do it for me—meaning that I got all the fun and none of the danger.

GP Mallory Ryman rescues Will Cooper when he’s knocked over by a car, and he talks her into acting as his locum while he recovers. But it also means her moving in with him: which means they both have to come to terms with their past. As for who rescues whom—I’ll let you make up your own mind.

Oh, and the storm sort of happened to me. Thirteen miserable hours with no heating, and reduced to using birthday cake candles! Now, imagine it was my heroine and the most gorgeous man in the world (my own gorgeous one was on call at work) and suddenly it becomes much more interesting….

With love,

Kate Hardy




The Doctor’s Rescue

Kate Hardy







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CONTENTS


COVER (#ufa8f1a00-e914-55bd-84c0-d7b5d1d4825a)

Dear Reader (#uee55b8ad-62e9-5e02-ae3f-84345f7608bd)

TITLE PAGE (#u74cce634-5b58-5aae-a67c-b6c3c446c00c)

CHAPTER ONE (#u64b1f9e9-0de0-5a79-9a3a-b2d651045e32)

CHAPTER TWO (#uab7912e5-6e7a-50f2-b6e2-69f4a99df0ab)

CHAPTER THREE (#u821b510f-e410-5f6c-a383-27e48c212162)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u828c80ba-dc31-507f-ad3c-46fb5e3d42eb)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)

COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_baa1b0c2-77a2-5f99-ab23-d70ed1f992a2)


‘GO ’WAY, Gnome,’ Will slurred. ‘Wan’ sleep.’

‘No, you don’t, sunshine. You’re really, really not going to sleep now. Stay awake for me.’

Bright blue eyes stared at him from under the even brighter yellow hood. Not fair, torturing him like this. His leg hurt, his head hurt, his arm hurt, and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. But the gnome was shining a light in his eyes and wouldn’t let him.

‘What’s your name?’ Her voice was gentler this time. Like her hands, which stroked his face tenderly. Lovely hands.

‘It’s W—’

Then everything faded, and he sank into sweet oblivion.

Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. Will risked moving an eyelid and closed it again quickly. The light was too bright. But he couldn’t go back to sleep again now—there was too much noise. People talking, clattering sounds and beeping. Sounds that were familiar somehow and yet strange at the same time. Where was he?

Resignedly, he opened his eyes. And saw her sitting cross-legged in the chair at the foot of his bed, reading a book. The gnome. Not a gnome—an elf, he decided, now she wasn’t wearing that huge yellow waterproof.

She smiled and put the book down. ‘Well, I suppose an elf’s an improvement on a gnome.’

Oh, no. He couldn’t have actually said that.

‘’Fraid so.’

‘Wha—?’

She uncrossed her legs, stood up and came over to the bed. ‘Would you like some water?’

He nodded gratefully. She wasn’t an elf either, then. More like an angel.

If angels had spiky auburn hair. Weren’t they supposed to be all golden and shining? And he couldn’t see any sign of wings or a halo.

Though she didn’t make a comment, so he clearly hadn’t spoken aloud this time.

She held a plastic beaker and put the straw to his lips, and he took a sip. And another. And another. And then she took the beaker away.

‘Not too much at once,’ she said.

Will resented that, even though her tone was kind. Didn’t she know his mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with sawdust? He needed water. Lots more water. He glowered at her and started to reach over to where she’d put the beaker on the bedside cabinet. Then he realised he had no chance of getting the water. Because his left arm was encased in plaster.

He stared at it in disbelief. He had a broken arm?

Her quiet voice cut into his thoughts. ‘Can you remember what happened?’

Will’s eyes widened. Oh, yes, he remembered what happened. The car coming round the corner in Darrowthwaite high street, the look of horror on the driver’s face when he saw the little girl run into the road and realised he wouldn’t be able to stop in time, the screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber as he’d slammed on the brakes…

And then the impact. The bone-jarring impact when the car had thudded into him.

‘Car,’ he forced out.

‘Anything else?’

He looked suspiciously at her. ‘Are you a reporter?’

‘No.’ She changed tack again. ‘Do you know what day it is?’

‘Thursday.’ He suddenly realised why she was asking. She wanted to check if he had amnesia. ‘How long was I out?’

‘The second time, you mean?’

So he’d been knocked out twice?

‘Only for about fifteen minutes.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘You gave us all a scare.’

‘I’m fine now. I’m going…’ His voice faded as he tried to sit up. No, he wasn’t going to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He had a nasty feeling he knew exactly why his right leg had a dressing taped over it: the car had given him more than just a bruise. A lot more.

He stared at her. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name’s Mallory Ryman.’

It didn’t ring any bells. And Mallory Ryman was definitely a woman once seen, never forgotten. Small and slender, with huge blue eyes and a mouth that…

Stop right there, Will Cooper. You’re in hospital with an arm in plaster and probably a pinned leg, you ache all over, you’ve probably got concussion and you’re in no fit condition to start thinking like that about her, he told himself.

And then he panicked. Was it more than just concussion making him feel groggy? Did he know Mallory? Did she work with him? Was she a neighbour? Or was she the one who’d managed to melt his resolve about never getting involved again?

‘Can you remember your name?’

Uh-oh. This was beginning to sound as if he did know her. So why couldn’t he remember who she was? ‘I’m Will Cooper.’

She smiled. ‘Good. That’s what your notes say, too. And what I was told in Darrowthwaite.’

He relaxed again. It was all right. He didn’t have amnesia on top of everything else. Though a tiny part of him was disappointed. As if he’d been hoping that she—

No. He’d already learned the hard way that love didn’t exist.

‘I thought you might like an update on the little girl.’

‘Little girl?’ Will parroted.

‘The reason you’re in here,’ Mallory told him kindly.

As if he’d forgotten. His mind was just working a bit more slowly than usual, that was all. ‘Kelly Beswick. Is she all right?’

‘Not so much as a bruise on her. You took all the impact and your body cushioned hers,’ Mallory said. ‘Her mum was in shock, mind. I had to prescribe some hot sweet tea.’

So his gnome—elf—angel—whatever—had a sense of humour. Because, of course, Will, being a GP in Darrowthwaite, should have been the one doing the prescribing. No doubt Wendy Beswick had told Mallory who he was.

‘But Kelly’s fine. The driver had a bit of a sore neck so they’re checking him out in Casualty—it’s probably minor whiplash. And Wendy’s going to keep Kelly on reins in future, particularly the next time she starts chatting to her friends in the middle of the street. I think she’s realised now that two-year-olds have a low boredom threshold. Especially when they see a cat on the other side of the road—’

‘And step straight out in front of a car,’ Will finished.

‘Lucky you saw it and got her out of the way.’

Mallory didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew that the impact would have killed the small child. Will had seen the toddler wander into the road, then the car come round the corner. There was only one thing he could possibly have done—and he’d done it. Rushed into the road, even though it had felt like wading through treacle at the time, and scooped her out of the way, taking the brunt of the impact himself.

The dull thud had reverberated through his body. And then he’d hit the tarmac.

‘And even luckier it wasn’t summer,’ Mallory said.

He knew exactly what she meant. In summer, he wouldn’t have been wearing a waxed thornproof jacket. He’d have been in shirtsleeves—thin fabric that would have been torn to shreds on the tarmac when he’d hit it. And as for the skin underneath…It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Anyway, I told Wendy I’d come to the hospital and let you know that the little girl was all right.’

‘Thanks.’ She hadn’t needed to do that. And he appreciated it. He gave her a half-smile, then the aches in his body made him wince again. ‘Sorry I wrecked your holiday.’

‘Holiday?’ she tested.

OK, so the first week of January wasn’t the most popular time of year for a holiday in the Lakes. But she was definitely on holiday. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He gestured with his free hand. ‘Proper walking boots. Bright yellow waterproof.’ She wasn’t wearing it but he could see it draped over the back of her chair. His gaze dropped to the floor next to the chair. ‘Rucksack.’ And, since her boots looked well worn and he recognised them as an expensive make, she was clearly a seasoned walker—a climber even, though she looked too slender and fragile to have the strength for rock-climbing.

Please, don’t let her be a climber.

‘Nice deduction, Mr Holmes,’ she teased. ‘Though actually, I’m not on holiday as such.’ Her smile faded. ‘And, if anything, I owe you.’

‘How come?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s not important. Anyway, you should be resting.’

‘I am resting,’ he pointed out wryly. He couldn’t move from his bed. Not without crutches, anyway, if his leg was pinned. And a quick glance around his cubicle showed no sign of crutches. So he was definitely stuck here. Great. He had a million and one things to do, clinics to run and lists to work through and paperwork to finish off and…

He must have spoken aloud again because she nodded. ‘And you feel as if you’ve been run over by a steamroller.’

‘Yeah,’ he admitted.

Mallory checked his chart. ‘You’re due some analgesics. I’ll go and tell the nurse you’re ready for them.’

She’d said ‘analgesics’, not ‘painkillers’, Will noted. And then he remembered the way she’d checked his pupils moments after the accident. Probably after he’d blacked out—that was why she’d checked his pupils in the first place. ‘You’re a doctor,’ he said.

‘Was,’ she said grimly, and left the cubicle.

Was? What did she mean, was? Had she been struck off? Or…? His mind refused to make any connections, and he sank back against his pillows. All he could think about right now was the dull ache that beat through his body.

She returned a couple of minutes later with a nurse who carried two white tablets in a small cup.

‘Paracetamol?’ Will asked hopefully.

Mallory smiled. ‘Don’t you think you might need just a little bit more than that?’

‘Yeah,’ he admitted, as another wave of pain shot through him.

‘I’ll do your obs first,’ the nurse said. She checked his temperature, pulse and respiration. Though her hands weren’t like Mallory’s. They were just as cool and professional, but the touch of her skin hadn’t heated his blood the way Mallory’s had.

No. Absolutely not. He wasn’t going to start thinking of Mallory in those terms.

He sneaked a glance at her. And wished he hadn’t when his gaze met hers. It felt as if lightning had just coursed through him. His pulse was racing, too. Not good. How could he explain to the nurse that it wasn’t anything to do with the accident? It was…the look of a stranger. A perfect stranger. All he knew about her was her name, her previous occupation and the fact she was here on holiday.

So how on earth could she make him feel like an overgrown, gawky teenager, just with one look? And how on earth could the nurse write so calmly on her chart as if an earthquake hadn’t just happened before her eyes—wasn’t still happening?

‘Shall I get him some water to go with the analgesics?’ Mallory asked.

‘Thanks.’ The nurse smiled at her. ‘I’ll leave him in your capable hands, Dr Ryman.’

‘Have you had co-proxamol before?’ Mallory asked as the nurse left the cubicle.

‘Yes.’

‘Any reaction to it at all? Any dizziness, blurred vision, slurring your words?’

‘No.’ She knew he hurt. Why didn’t she just give him the painkillers? ‘Are you the ward doctor?’ he asked.

‘No.’ She flushed spectacularly, her face clashing wildly with her hair. And then she went white. Absolutely white.

Will could have kicked himself. Considering that she’d come to his rescue after the accident and now she was looking after him—something she really didn’t have to do—he’d been ungracious. Worse, he must have touched some sort of sore nerve. She’d only just told him that she used to be a doctor and, whatever the reason for her not being one now, the pain was clearly still raw. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to be nasty.’

‘You’re in pain and I’m holding up your pain relief. And I’m sure the ward doctor checked your records before he wrote you up for co-proxamol,’ Mallory said. She handed him the cup and waited until he’d tipped the tablets into his mouth before giving him the beaker of water.

‘Thanks,’ he said when he’d swallowed the tablets.

‘Is there anything else you need?’ she asked.

A new head, he thought. One that didn’t hurt. ‘No. I’m fine, thanks,’ he said.

‘I’ll be off, then.’

‘Stay a bit longer. Please?’ The words were out before he’d even finished thinking them.

‘I…Look, you ought to rest.’

At least she was saying no in a nice way. She was probably with someone on her walking trip. He’d already taken up too much of her time. This not-wanting-to-let-her-go type of feeling…Well, the accident must have addled his brains as well as smashed his bones. ‘Sorry. Selfish,’ he mumbled. ‘Your friends…’ Must be waiting for her, though he couldn’t get the words out.

She shook her head. ‘I’m on my own.’

So she could stay, if she wanted to. But he’d already wrecked her holiday. ‘Too dark to walk now. Sorry.’

‘Climb,’ she corrected.

Climb. The word slammed into his mind and he flinched. Today had been tough. But it had just become a whole heap worse, raking up old wounds. Climbing had already cost him Roland and Julie—his brother and his fiancée. He really should have moved when it had all happened. Gone somewhere flat and quiet and as far from mountains as he could possibly find.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘Does something new hurt?’

Only my heart. And that was a long, long time ago, he thought. When my fiancée fell in love with my brother. And I wasn’t there when the mountain rescue team needed me. And Roly…

‘No. I’m fine.’ With an effort, Will pulled his concentration back from the memories of that terrible night. ‘I hope the duty doctors are as on the ball as you are.’

‘If they are, you’d be better off somewhere else,’ she muttered.

He could see the pain in her eyes. The kind of pain he knew only too well, the kind of pain that all the medicine in the world couldn’t heal. Because the only way to heal it was to face your demons head on. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Asks the man with a comminuted fracture of the upper tibia, a fractured radius and concussion,’ she quipped. The car crash had shattered the bone in Will’s leg, and when the impact had knocked him to the ground, he’d landed on his arm and the bone had snapped.

‘Comminuted fracture?’

‘Uh-huh. You got off lightly—just the tibia and not the fibula as well. And it was a closed fracture.’

She wasn’t teasing him. If your tibia broke, the force of the impact normally went through your interosseous membrane, the connective tissue lying between the two lower leg bones, and fractured your fibia as well. The layers of skin and tissues over the area were very thin, which usually meant that the broken bone pierced your skin, known as an ‘open fracture’. In Will’s case, the bone hadn’t gone through the skin.

But a comminuted fracture, meaning that the bone had shattered…There could be only one reason why he didn’t have a cast on. ‘Internal fixation?’ he asked.

Mallory nodded. ‘Absolutely. So no weight on that leg until the bone knits together again.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Three months.’ He’d be stuck, unable to do anything, for three whole months. At least.

‘Could be worse,’ she said, as if she’d read his mind—though his feelings had probably been written all over his face. ‘If it’d been your femur, you’d be in traction so you couldn’t even get around on crutches.’ If you’d broken your thigh bone, you needed traction to stop the large thigh muscles contracting and interfering with the blood supply, or even displacing the broken bone again. ‘And you’d have lost a lot more blood.’ Enough even to go into shock.

And she was changing the subject. ‘Lucky me,’ he said dryly, opening his eyes again. ‘But what about you?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’

She didn’t look it. Again, the words were out of his mouth before his brain had registered them. His brain definitely wasn’t involved because he sounded far more coherent than he felt. ‘Why don’t you grab a cup of coffee, sit down and tell me about it?’

‘Nothing to tell.’

‘Looks to me,’ he said quietly, ‘as if you need someone to listen. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m a doctor—what you tell me is just between us.’

‘You need to rest.’

He nodded. ‘And I also need something to take my mind off things till the co-proxamol kicks in properly. So talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.’

Will’s eyes were what won the argument for him. Serious, yet with a certain warmth and honesty. Eyes that she could trust. Sexy, too…

No! She wasn’t going to start thinking that way about him. Even though he was cute. More than cute. Even lying in a hospital bed, in plaster and covered in bruises. Will Cooper was what Renee, her American sister-in-law, would call serious eye-candy. Dark hair that flopped over his forehead, eyes as blue as the sky at the top of a mountain, slight stubble that gave him a piratical look and the suggestion of a dimple in his cheek that would win any argument for him when he smiled.

It would be so easy to give in to the attraction. But Mallory couldn’t. She had nothing to give anyone right now. Not after Geoff. Her eye flicked automatically to Will’s left hand. No wedding ring visible, though that didn’t prove anything. He was probably married, or at least living with someone. So the chances were he wasn’t available anyway.

But she did need to talk. Will was right about that. ‘OK. Thanks.’

‘Coffee-bar on the ground floor. Better than the ward machine,’ he said. ‘They do take-away.’

‘Do you want me to bring you anything back?’

He shook his head. ‘Caffeine, right now, would blow my head off.’

‘I won’t be long,’ she promised.

The coffee-bar did a selection of tempting-looking cakes, including slices of Grasmere gingerbread and Westmorland pepper cake, but Mallory resisted the temptation, sticking to just a double espresso. By the time she got back to the ward, Will had fallen asleep.

She smiled ruefully—maybe their conversation just wasn’t meant to be—and quietly gathered her belongings together. She was about to tiptoe out of the cubicle when a husky voice demanded, ‘Where’re you going?’

Mallory nearly dropped her coffee. ‘I thought you were asleep!’

‘Just resting my eyes,’ He mumbled. ‘Sit. So, what’re you doing in the Lakes in January? Not th’ right time year f’ holiday.’

‘Will, you’re so tired, you’re slurring your words. You need to rest.’ She froze. ‘Unless you’re reacting to the co-proxamol.’

‘Neither. Talk to me,’ he insisted.

Mallory sighed. ‘I just need space to think,’ she said simply, dropping her rucksack and waterproof next to the chair and sitting down. ‘Make some decisions.’

‘Such as?’ he prompted.

This was it. The big one. Could she tell him?

But he was a stranger. Someone who wasn’t involved. Someone who might help her see a way through this whole mess. ‘Whether I’m cut out for a career in medicine. I thought maybe I’d done the wrong thing.’ How could she possibly stay on as a GP after what had happened? But, on the other hand, how could she break her father’s heart by giving up medicine? Whatever she did would be wrong.

‘Did all the right things with me,’ Will said. ‘Checked my pupils, kept me talking—till I passed out on you—double-checked the painkillers.’

‘Yes.’ She bit her lip. ‘When I saw the accident happen, my instincts took over. So maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t give up just yet.’

‘What made you think that you should?’

She stared into her coffee. ‘Because I nearly killed someone.’




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_b1868114-6841-5f25-ba2f-2ad99e01b354)


THERE was a long, long pause. A pause in which Mallory couldn’t bring herself to look back at Will. A pause that seemed to last for hours, though it could only have been seconds.

‘What happened?’

His voice was gentle. Kind, not condemning. She glanced up at him and saw only concern in his eyes, not judgement. And then, at last, she was able to tell him.

‘One of my patients came in complaining of a sore shoulder.’ Mallory swallowed. ‘Lindy had been carrying her toddler about, so I just assumed it was a muscle sprain. I should have thought about shoulder-tip pain being caused by irritation of the diaphragm.’

Will clearly followed her train of thought, as he said, ‘Did she say she was pregnant?’

Mallory bit her lip. ‘No. She said she was on the Pill, and she’d had a light period a couple of weeks before. I should have known better. As a doctor, I know that you can still have vaginal bleeding in pregnancy, and if she’d missed a pill or had been ill, her contraceptive might have let her down. But I didn’t push it.’ She took a swig of coffee.

‘Ectopic pregnancy?’ Will guessed.

‘Yes. And I didn’t pick it up. I was her GP, and I let her down. Badly. I didn’t give her a pregnancy test, just in case, and I didn’t send her for a scan. If I had, they’d have picked it up early enough.’

‘Any abdominal pain?’

‘No.’

Will shrugged. ‘Hard one to call if she said she wasn’t pregnant, had no abdominal pain.’ He swallowed hard.

Clearly he needed a drink, Mallory thought. How could she be so selfish as to sit here and jabber on at him, burden him with her problems, when he really needed looking after? She put her coffee on his bedside cabinet and brought the cup of water down within his reach.

‘Thanks.’ He took a small sip through the straw, then another. Then stopped. ‘Don’t want you to tell me off again,’ he said.

That half-smile again. She’d bet her last penny that the full monty was the type of smile that would make you cross frozen wastes. Correction. The type of smile that would make frozen wastes feel like lush, temperate pastureland. ‘One in five.’

‘Hmm?’ She’d lost him completely.

‘One in five. Women with ectopic pregnancy who have normal periods.’

She knew the statistic too, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

‘But I should have checked, Will. I didn’t.’

Because she’d been too preoccupied with Geoff. Kind, sweet Geoff and his completely unexpected proposal. Well, it hadn’t been that unexpected—she’d known from the start that his feelings had been stronger than hers. She’d known what the right answer should have been, but had asked him for time to think about it. Think about whether she could settle down at the practice in the New Forest, bury her love for the mountains and become the domesticated doctor he’d wanted her to be; whether she could live someone else’s dreams for the rest of her life. Or whether she could bring herself to hurt him by saying no.

In the end, there had been only one decision. The kindest thing for both of them. She’d told him she loved him, but she couldn’t be the woman he needed. She couldn’t be his wife. She’d written out her resignation and applied to register as a locum in Cumbria—putting distance between them and giving her a chance to climb while she thought about what to do next.

And then, in the grim weeks when she’d worked out her notice, when she’d seen how Geoff had lost weight and she’d had dark shadows under her eyes and had started wondering maybe if she should have just put his happiness before her own and said yes, she’d nearly lost a patient. Lindy. ‘Her tube ruptured the next day. She went into shock, lost a lot of blood. They nearly lost her—as it was, the Fallopian tube had to be removed and she needed a lot of transfusions. And it was all my fault. If I’d done my job properly, sent her for a scan, they’d have seen the problem and taken her into surgery before the tube ruptured.’

‘You’re a doctor—but you’re human.’ Will reached to take her hand with his uninjured one.

The feel of his skin against hers sent a shiver of sheer pleasure down her spine. She should pull her hand away—right now—but she couldn’t.

He squeezed her hand. ‘We all make mistakes.’

Not on this scale. All because her mind hadn’t been on her job. ‘I should have known better. And my incompetence ruined a family’s Christmas.’ More than one family’s, actually. Three. Lindy’s, Geoff’s and her own.

‘Mallory, your patient didn’t die.’

‘No.’

‘Had she already lost a Fallopian tube?’

Mallory shook her head.

‘No reason why she can’t have a baby in future, then.’

‘But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place,’ Mallory insisted obstinately.

‘Your senior partner gave you time off?’

‘I resigned,’ she said quietly. What else could she have done? She’d let everyone down. Charles—Geoff’s father, the senior partner and her father’s best friend from medical school, the man who’d given her the job in the first place. Her own father, who’d so wanted her to follow in his footsteps. Geoff, who’d wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children.

‘Why?’

Because of Geoff. Though she couldn’t tell Will that. And then, after what happened with Lindy…‘Maybe I’m just not meant to be a doctor,’ she said. She bit her lip. ‘Dad’s a GP. So are my brothers—they work in the same practice, actually. So right from the start everyone assumed I’d do the same. The only thing I did differently was to work in another practice when I qualified—Dad thought I was just gaining experience until I was ready to join Drs Ryman, Ryman and Ryman. But I screwed it up and I let everyone down.’

‘You’re being too hard on yourself.’

‘Am I?’ Mallory shrugged. ‘I dunno. I needed time to think. So I came here.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I suppose I take after my mother. When in doubt, go climbing.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Climb. Think about what I want to do.’

Will’s hand tightened on hers for a moment, and then he moved his hand away. And he’d gone pale. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

‘Fine.’

He didn’t look it. She placed her hand on his forehead. No temperature. His breathing wasn’t rapid or shallow. She swiftly checked his pulse. A bit fast, but in the normal range. Maybe he was just tired—though she’d tell the nurse on her way out. It might be the first signs of shock. ‘Will, I’d better let you rest.’

He shook his head. ‘’M fine. What’re your choices?’

‘Give up medicine. Or if I do stay in medicine…I might do some locuming for a bit. Maybe join Médicins Sans Frontières.’

Her father had accused her of running away. Though how could she have stayed in the New Forest? Mallory had let Charles down on all fronts. Professionally, she’d made a stupid—nearly fatal—mistake. Personally, she’d let his son fall in love with her and had broken his heart—because Mallory knew that she couldn’t marry Geoff. She loved him dearly, but just as a friend—she wasn’t in love with him. Geoff was good and kind and honest and decent, and he’d make somebody a fantastic husband. He’d be a brilliant dad. But he wasn’t the right one for her. Climbing in extreme conditions was as alien to him as the planet Mars. The one time she’d confessed to Geoff that her secret dream was to climb Everest, he’d thought she was joking.

Coming to the Lakes had been the right thing to do. A clean break—kinder to Geoff, too, because it would give him the chance to meet someone who deserved him. Someone who’d give him the cosy domestic set-up that was his dream.

Not that it had been easy to explain to her father. Dominic Ryman had been delighted when Mallory had told him she was going out with Geoff. A marriage between the two families would have been perfect in his eyes.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

Climbing—a chance to think. Will knew someone else who’d taken that point of view. Two people, in fact. One of them was dead and the other was hundreds of miles away in a war zone, working for Médicins Sans Frontières. Just as Mallory could be doing shortly.

And it was all his fault. He had to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. If he’d been different, been a daredevil risk-taking climber like Roly instead of the sort who double-checked all his equipment and never took risks…But he wasn’t. And his fiancée Julie had fallen out of love with him and in love with his twin brother.

The night Roly and Julie had told him about their love affair, Will had switched his mobile phone off, taken his phone off the hook and tried to drown his sorrows—knowing that he wasn’t on call that night or over the weekend, so he wouldn’t be letting his patients down. But he’d been in no mood to think about the weather. He hadn’t even realised how bad the storm had got. The mountain rescue team hadn’t been able to get in touch with him. But they had managed to contact Roly. So Roly had been the one abseiling down the cliff to rescue the stupid, irresponsible, brainless climber who’d decided to tackle Sharp Edge—the scariest slopes in the Lakes—in appalling weather and had got stuck.

If he himself hadn’t been so selfish, trying to blot out his feeling of misery and betrayal, he would have been the one who’d answered the call. He would have been the one who’d plummeted down the cliff when the rope had snapped. Roly would still be alive, and Julie wouldn’t be nursing a broken heart. She wouldn’t be feeling so miserable without the love of her life that she’d be risking her own life in a war zone, because nothing mattered to her any more…

He pulled his thoughts away with difficulty. This wasn’t about him. It was about Mallory. Mallory, the stranger who’d come to his rescue at the accident and who even now was keeping him company when she owed him absolutely nothing.

Mallory, who was a trained GP.

And, like it or not, he had problems of his own to face as well. Such as who was going to replace him until he was fit enough to work again.

‘I might have a solution,’ Will said slowly. To both their situations.

She frowned. ‘What?’

‘Look at me.’ He gestured to himself. ‘I’m a GP. But I can’t see my patients from a hospital bed. And I’m left-handed.’ He gave his cast a rueful look. ‘Can’t update patient notes, can’t write out a prescription—can’t even sign one printed off the computer. Or drive out to house calls.’

‘I think driving’s out for a few weeks.’

She smiled. And it transformed her face so much he almost wished he hadn’t made her smile. Because it was like being a child with his nose pressed against the toyshop window, longing for something he couldn’t have.

‘Look, you need some space to think, a chance to see if you still want to work as a doctor, but without any pressure. I need a locum. And I really hate interviewing. Interviewing with a headache’s going to be even worse. So if you agree to be my locum, we could solve each other’s problems.’

She frowned. ‘But I’ve just told you. I nearly killed someone.’

‘You made a mistake—a mistake that anyone could have made in the circumstances,’ he corrected. ‘And you’ve already shown me that you’ve learned from it. Look at the way you double-checked whether I’d had a previous bad reaction to co-proxamol.’

‘Ye-es.’

Co-proxamol, which had taken away the pain. At least he could think clearly again. He wasn’t slurring any more either. And hopefully his mouth was working in synch with his brain again and he sounded coherent. Because he really, really needed to talk Mallory round to his way of thinking. ‘Everyone doubts themselves at some point. If a patient dies on you, you always think it’s your fault—that maybe you could have saved them if only you’d done something else, tried another drug or referred them for a different procedure.’

‘That’s different. It’s not the same as making a stupid mistake in the first place.’

‘A mistake that you won’t repeat. Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ Will said softly. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance.’

‘Can’t the others at your practice cover you?’

‘They’ve probably taken care of my list for today, they’ll manage tomorrow and it’s not my weekend on call anyway,’ Will said, ‘but it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask for more. I need a locum, starting Monday. It’s going to take—what, six weeks?—until my arm’s out of plaster, and who knows how long before my leg’s right again? Three months?’

‘Not to mention the physio you’ll need to stop your muscles atrophying. And remember, no weight on that leg—you don’t want to risk malunion. It’s the most common problem with a fractured tibia.’

He nodded. ‘See? You think like a doctor, Mallory.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Even if it’s only for a month, it’ll take the pressure off my partners,’ Will said.

‘And what will your senior partner have to say about it?’ Mallory persisted.

‘He agrees with me.’

She frowned. ‘But I’m the only one who’s visited you.’

‘I’m the senior partner.’

Mallory stared at him. ‘Either you’re incredibly young to be a senior partner, or you’ve got a picture in your attic.’

Well, of course he was young. He’d thrown himself into his work since the accident. But Mallory had enough on her plate. He wasn’t going to lay his own guilt trip on her. ‘Maybe both. I’m thirty-four.’

‘What will your partners think when you tell them you’ve picked a stranger off the streets to be your locum?’

‘A qualified doctor,’ he corrected, ‘who rescued me from the accident. Siobhan’ll say it’s fate. She and Tom’ll be delighted to have you on board. Nathan—he’s my practice manager—will be only too pleased not to have to go through the list of locums and find someone who wants to do more than one morning a week.’ He paused. ‘Um…you do want to do more than one morning a week?’

‘Yes. I could do three or four surgeries a week—even five—and still get a chance to explore the area.’

She meant ‘climb’. He forced himself to ignore the ache in his heart. ‘So. You’re a qualified GP. Vocational training up to date?’

She nodded. ‘And I’ve got certificates to prove it.’

‘Fully insured?’

‘Yes. I’ve got the papers, too.’

‘You’re MRCGP?’

‘Yes, I’m a Member of the Royal College of General Practitioners.’ She smiled. ‘OK, now I believe you’re an extremely young senior partner.’

‘Huh?’ He didn’t follow.

‘If you can remember to ask all the right screening questions when you’ve been hit by a car, you’ve been in Theatre and you’re on painkillers…’ She spread her hands. ‘You’ll be seriously scary when you’re back on your feet.’

‘I’m not scary in the slightest.’ He gave her a wicked look. ‘Though Marion is.’

‘Marion?’

‘Marion Prentiss, our receptionist—she’s one of the old school and a complete dragon.’

‘Bit stereotypical, isn’t it?’

He shrugged. ‘But it works. Nobody misses an appointment at our practice, believe you me. And God help the doctor who’s late for surgery. Though if you’re ill, the first one to be there offering help is our Marion. She’s a pussycat really—you just have to know how to treat her.’

‘So what’s the secret?’

‘Make sure you’re on time—and make her a cup of coffee when you get in. Then there’s Hayley, our practice nurse, the type who’s everyone’s favourite aunty. They’re a good team.’

‘I need time to think about it,’ she warned.

‘Of course you do.’ But there was still something that could put a major spanner in the works. ‘Are you registered up here?’

Mallory nodded. ‘I registered a while back, when I resigned from my last practice. I knew I wanted to stay in Cumbria for a few months and my savings weren’t going to keep me indefinitely. I had the official acceptance through before Christmas—though I was planning to do some climbing before putting my name down on the lists or joining the local association of non-principals.’

‘So the paperwork’s not going to be a problem.’ Will knew it could take over a month to sort out registration. At least he didn’t have to face that hurdle. ‘Good. Go and think about it. Have a look round the surgery in Darrowthwaite tomorrow, meet the gang, see if you like them—I’m sure they’ll like you. If you agree to join us for a while, Nathan can sort out the contractual side of things and references.’ He paused. ‘But if you’re going climbing, you will tell someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back, won’t you?’

She gave him a withering look. ‘Of course. I’ve been climbing for over twenty years, I’ll have you know.’

‘What was that you were saying about pictures in the attic?’ he teased.

‘I started young. Mum’s always been mountain-mad—I was named after the Everest climber George Mallory,’ she said. ‘My brothers and I were climbing almost before we could walk.’

She didn’t mention her father, he noticed.

‘So I’m perfectly aware of the drill—and that if you have to call the rescue services from your mobile phone, tell them you’re in the Lakes because at the top of Scafell you might get connected to the services in Inverness or the Isle of Man.’

‘OK.’ He lifted his uninjured hand in a gesture of surrender. ‘So I was teaching you to suck eggs.’

‘I just like the challenge of climbing,’ she said. ‘Seeing a rockface, getting to the top and knowing that I’ve beaten all the elements by myself.’

Yeah. Will remembered that feeling. He even missed it. But the last time he’d tried to go climbing, he’d only got as far as pulling his boots on. And then the guilt had slammed in. He couldn’t do it any more. He just couldn’t. ‘Mad.’

Her jaw set and he realised he’d spoken aloud. ‘I don’t take stupid risks,’ she informed him tartly.

He hadn’t meant her. But how could he tell her the truth? ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence.’

‘No offence taken.’

‘Good.’ He made himself say it, even though the words reopened his wounds. ‘Go climb your mountain, Mallory.’ He couldn’t resist adding, ‘Safely.’

She gave him a speaking look.

He ignored it. ‘And then tell me what you’ve decided tomorrow.’

‘OK. But you need to get some rest.’ She gathered her belongings together again and this time, Will didn’t protest. ‘Is there anyone you want me to ring for you?’

‘Thanks, but it’s OK. The town grapevine’s pretty good. The minute surgery’s over, no doubt Nathan will be here.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’

‘Yep.’ He dredged up another smile, though he was starting to hurt again. ‘Have a nice evening.’

‘You, too.’

When Mallory closed the cubicle curtain behind her, Will felt strangely bereft. Disappointed, even. Though, of course, she wasn’t going to kiss him goodbye, not even on the cheek. And he had to be off his head, asking her to be his locum without checking first that she really was who she said she was, that she was properly qualified and competent. Especially when she’d already told him she had doubts about staying in medicine. Big doubts.

But there was something about Mallory Ryman.

Oh, who was he trying to kid? Something, indeed. The woman was gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous. But he’d spent the last five years following his head instead of his heart. He wasn’t going to change that now. If Mallory agreed to be his locum, and if her paperwork checked out—he certainly wasn’t going to put his patients at risk—they’d be friends. Strictly friends. Nothing more. Because how could he possibly get involved with someone who climbed, when climbing had shattered his life?




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4714cdef-29f6-540e-b783-cafa80beabcb)


MALLORY reached for the next hold, feeling her muscles stretch. This was what she liked most about climbing, testing her body to its limits and then getting to the top and knowing she’d achieved it all by herself. She tensed and pulled up, then let the crampon do its work and make her toehold safer, before reaching up for the next hold. She liked taking risks, yes, but she always calculated them first. She didn’t climb in blizzards or driving rain or when the temperature was below zero and the rocks were covered in black ice—well, not unless she was part of a group, doing something she secretly regarded as training for Everest, her long-held dream. And even then only when she had an ice axe and crampons.

Should she accept Will’s offer? And was he right? Did she deserve a second chance? Maybe. If it had happened to someone else, she wouldn’t have judged that person too harshly. But she’d prided herself on being the perfect doctor, on never making mistakes. On being good enough to meet the standards her father and brothers had already set.

‘Concentrate on the rocks,’ she told herself crossly. She had to think about the climbing. If she didn’t, she’d slip and fall. She knew the way it worked—she’d done it often enough. Just think about climbing, and let her subconscious go to work on solving her problems. By the time she’d reached the top of Helvellyn, she’d have the answer.

She gave all her attention to the rocks, focusing on the climb, judging each handhold and foothold with a practised eye. When she reached the top, she sat down and looked out over the valleys below her. Ullswater glimmered in the pale January sun to one side of her, Thirlmere to the other. It was a beautifully clear day without so much as a hint of a cloud, so she could see Blencathra in the distance and the peak at Skiddaw. It was freezing cold. She couldn’t feel the tip of her nose and the exposed part of her face had probably been whipped red raw by the wind, but she couldn’t help smiling. Because she’d just come home.

Home.

It wasn’t really home—she wasn’t sure if anywhere was home right now—but the peaks of Cumbria had called her north in the dark days before her resignation. And it could be home, at least for a while, if she acted as Will’s locum.

Though Will Cooper was another problem. There was a definite pull between them. If they’d met in other circumstances…But no. He was in plaster and pins. And that was enough to keep her common sense working. If she worked with him—and it was a big if—their relationship would be strictly business.

Her mobile phone shrilled. She pulled it from her inside pocket and answered automatically without bothering to look at the display first. ‘Mallory Ryman.’

‘Hey, there, Wonder Woman.’

Mallory chuckled. Of all the people she could have done with talking to right now, her sister-in-law Renee was top of the list. ‘Hey, there, Renny-babes.’

There was a pained sigh. ‘Repeat after me. Ruh-nay.’

‘Ren-nee-ee,’ Mallory teased. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine, honey. And where are you?’

‘Top of Helvellyn. Views to die for. You’d love it.’

‘With all that hard work first? Give me a Jacuzzi any day!’

Mallory’s grin widened. Renee was an unabashed hedonist. Her suggested solution to Mallory’s dilemma had been to spend a week together at a spa. Flotation tank, Indian head massage, facial, Jacuzzi, the works. Followed by some serious shopping. ‘Spent all Mikey’s money yet?’

‘I’m working on it,’ Renee teased back. ‘Seriously, honey, you haven’t been in touch for over a week. The menfolk are muttering. And, um, Geoff’s been up to see us.’

‘Right.’ Mallory coughed. ‘You didn’t tell him where I was?’

‘We don’t actually know where you are, do we, honey? Just that you’re somewhere in the Lakes, getting your head together. Anyway, I had a little chat with him. So he knows you’re not going to change your mind.’

‘Thanks, Renee.’

‘And you did the right thing. He’s a lovely guy, but he’s not the one for you. He’s too tame. You need Spiderman.’

‘Don’t you mean Superman?’

‘Nope, I mean Spiderman. You need a climber. Someone who understands why you do what you do—and wants to do it with you.’

‘Mikey’s a climber and you wouldn’t be seen dead in crampons,’ Mallory pointed out.

‘Yeah, but I understand why he does it. That makes a difference. So, has the climbing helped?’

Mallory sighed. ‘Yes and no.’

‘Want my take on it?’ Without pausing for an answer, Renee continued, ‘You’re a good doctor, Mallory. You’re cutting yourself to pieces over a mistake—but it’s the wrong mistake you’re focusing on.’

‘What do you mean, the wrong mistake?’

‘Your patient. It could have happened to Mikey, to Jonno, to your dad. The Rymans aren’t perfect. No, honey, your mistake was working too close to home.’

‘The New Forest isn’t exactly close to Gloucestershire.’

‘In the States, honey, that’d be doorstep distance. But that’s not what I mean. Charles is your father’s best friend, so you were personally involved even before you started seeing Geoff. And I don’t think you should come back here and be Doctor and Daughter either. You’d be worrying that the boys would be watching you and judging you all the time. What you need is a fresh start in a practice that isn’t linked to your personal life. So you’re there on your own merits. And your partners will stay that way—working partners.’

‘Maybe.’ Mallory sighed. ‘I can’t live off my savings for ever. I’ve got to get a job at some point.’ She grimaced as she remembered the balance that had flashed up when she’d withdrawn some cash earlier that day. ‘Sooner rather than later.’

‘So get the one you’re trained for.’

‘I’ve, um, been offered a locum position.’

‘Up there?’

Mallory quickly filled Renee in on the Will situation. ‘I told him what happened and he said I needed a second chance.’

‘You do,’ Renee said emphatically.

‘And it solves his problem, too—if I do it, he won’t have to worry about finding a locum who’ll do the hours he needs.’

‘Then go see the practice,’ Renee said. ‘See what you think. If you like them, give it a try. If it doesn’t work out, you can always move on. No one’ll think any less of you.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘Course I am, honey. I’m always right.’ Renee chuckled. ‘Let me know how it goes. And I won’t breathe a word to the boys. Your mom thinks the same as I do. So you tell them when you’re good and ready, OK?’

‘OK.’

‘You take care, now.’

‘You, too. And, Renee?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks.’

‘Any time, honey.’

By the time Mallory had come back down Helvellyn and driven back to Darrowthwaite, it was getting near the end of surgery.

‘I’m sorry, neither of the doctors will be able to see you today,’ the receptionist told her bluntly. ‘Their lists are full.’

Direct. Well, she could cope with that. Mallory smiled and held out her hand. ‘You must be Mrs Prentiss.’

The receptionist frowned. ‘And you are?’

‘Mallory Ryman. I’m not looking for an appointment with one of the GPs, but I would like a quick word with the practice manager, please.’

Mrs Prentiss’s lips pursed as she looked Mallory up and down.

‘I’m not a drug rep either, Mrs Prentiss, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Mallory said hastily. ‘I was with Dr Cooper at the hospital yesterday.’ Coffee. Will had said something about coffee. ‘Look, I can see you’re busy so I don’t want to hold you up, but he asked me to call in and have a quick chat with Nathan. If I…if I get you a cup of coffee, would you be able to see if Nathan can spare me a couple of minutes, please?’

To her surprise, the receptionist burst out laughing. ‘Will tell you how to soft-soap me, did he?’

‘Er…’ Mallory flushed.

‘Third door on the right,’ Mrs Prentiss said. ‘Nathan’s expecting you. Helvellyn cold, was it?’

‘But good.’ Mallory couldn’t help smiling back. Will had been spot on about the Darrowthwaite grapevine. ‘Thank you.’

Nathan turned out to be tall and thin, with his hair cut short to disguise a thinning patch. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said. ‘Will’s making my life a misery. He’s called me six times today already! Good climb?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘I gather Will’s already told you about the practice. So, is there anything you’d like to ask me?’

This was all going way too fast. She hadn’t even said yes yet!

‘Sorry, I’m bulldozing you.’ He smiled at her. ‘Let me show you around.’

The place was perfect. Purpose-built, but from traditional materials and designed to fit in with the buildings around it. Four consulting rooms plus the practice nurse’s room. ‘And this room’s for visiting specialists—we have a weekly phlebotomist, osteopath, chiropodist and physiotherapist,’ Nathan told her. ‘We also have a room for the health visitors and district midwife—they cover three practices between them.’

‘It’s a good set-up,’ Mallory said. Very similar to Charles’s practice.

Just as Nathan was showing her back to his office, the doors of the other doctors’ surgeries opened simultaneously.

‘You must be Mallory. I’m Siobhan Reilly,’ the pretty blonde announced, shaking Mallory’s hand. ‘And this is Tom Fitzgerald.’

Tom, who was small and round and lively, grinned at her. ‘And neither of us makes a habit of diving in front of cars, you’ll be pleased to know.’

‘But that means you’ll have to be the practice hero doctor while Will’s out of action,’ Siobhan informed her. ‘Tom can’t because he’s sleep deprived.’

‘Twins. Teething,’ he explained. ‘And Siobhan can’t because she’s scared of heights.’

‘And you’re a climber,’ Siobhan said. ‘So you’ve drawn the short straw.’

‘Stop bullying the poor girl,’ a voice behind them chided. ‘Take no notice of them, love. I’m Hayley, the practice nurse. And you two can just leave her alone and get back to your patients.’

‘Yes, Aunty Hayley,’ the other doctors chorused, laughing.

Clearly Will had been talking about a shared and much-loved joke when he’d referred to the practice nurse as ‘favourite aunty’.

‘See you later, Mallory,’ Siobhan said, and she and Tom returned to their rooms.

‘Just popped along to say hello,’ Hayley said. ‘And to say thanks for looking after our Will for us.’

‘Pleasure,’ Mallory said.

‘When we heard about the accident, we couldn’t believe it. It just didn’t seem fair, after the last one. But at least he’s all right. Thanks to you.’

‘I didn’t do a lot,’ Mallory said honestly. ‘Just tried to keep him conscious while we waited for the ambulance.’ And what did Hayley mean, ‘after the last one’? Was this the second time Will had been hit by a car?

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Hayley told her with a smile. ‘I’ve got two tetanus jabs waiting, and if I leave them any longer they’ll have scared themselves into going home again.’

After such a welcome, Mallory could only do one thing. Take Renee’s advice. ‘About these questions,’ she said to Nathan.

Nathan nodded. ‘Fire away.’

‘Would you like to see my certificates and CV?’ Then she chuckled. ‘And don’t tell Will. I want to do it myself.’

‘That’s the least he deserves for pestering me!’ Nathan told her.

‘Come and sit down. Good climb?’ Will asked when Mallory put her head round the curtain of his cubicle.

‘Yes, thanks. I brought you some grapes.’ She opened the bag for him, then put the grapes on the table that swung over his bed so he could reach them. ‘Seedless. And I washed them first.’

‘Thanks. Did you go to see Nathan?’

‘Didn’t Nathan tell you?’

‘He didn’t tell me anything,’ Will complained.

She put him out of his misery. ‘Yes. I saw him.’

‘And?’

She handed him an envelope.

‘What’s this?’

‘My references,’ she said simply. ‘You’d better check me out properly if you want me to take this job.’

‘You’ll do it, then?’

She nodded. ‘Until you’re better, but I’d prefer it to be on a trial basis. Give it a week, see if we suit each other.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Once you’ve checked out my references.’

‘Have you given a copy to Nathan?’

‘Yes. Along with all the necessary papers.’

‘Then he’ll already have it in hand.’ He gave her another of those half-smiles. She’d been expecting the full wattage but, then again, he had just been hit by a car. A half-smile was probably as much as he could manage. ‘Welcome aboard Darrowthwaite Surgery. Now, can you do me another favour?’

‘Such as?’

He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Get me out of here! I can’t stand another night of noise and clattering.’

‘Will, you’ve got an internal fixation and an arm in plaster. How are you going to manage at home?’

‘The cottage has a downstairs bathroom and there’s a sofa bed in the living room. I’ll cope.’

‘What do the doctors say?’

‘Is he still on about discharging himself?’ a voice enquired. ‘Honestly, medical staff really are the worst patients. Demand to see their notes, want to know why you’re still doing their obs when they feel perfectly well, and say they’re going home well before they’re actually ready.’ The staff nurse swiftly took Will’s temperature and checked his pulse.

‘Apyrexial, pulse normal, no sign of nausea, no unusual pain, and if you check under the dressing there won’t be any signs of infection. No redness, no heat, no sign of pus.’ Will ticked the list off on the fingers of his uninjured hand. ‘Now, can I go home?’

‘You know what the doctor said,’ the nurse told him gently as she wrote up his chart. ‘Only on condition you have someone to look after you.’

‘You’re in the best place,’ Mallory added.

‘Then I’ll get a taxi and discharge myself,’ Will said.

‘Talk some sense into your boyfriend, will you? Please?’ the nurse teased.

Mallory flushed deeply as the nurse left. She wasn’t Will’s girlfriend—just his locum. But if the nursing staff thought that, no doubt Will’s partners and patients would think she was trying to come on to him…And what would his real girlfriend think?

‘What about your wife—your girlfriend?’ Mallory asked. ‘How does she feel about this?’

‘I’m single,’ Will said, his voice suddenly crisp, ‘and I like it that way.’

Ouch. She’d definitely trodden on sore toes there. It sounded as if he’d recently split up with someone. ‘Your mum?’

Will groaned. ‘Please, no. It was bad enough when I rang her earlier to tell her about the accident. Especially after—’

He stopped abruptly, and Mallory wondered what he’d been going to say.

‘Look, I can manage. Mrs Hammond’ll come in a couple of times a week to do my cleaning. If I ask her nicely, she’ll pop in to give me some food once a day and do the washing and what have you. All I need’s a garden chair or something in the bathroom and I’ll be set up perfectly.’

‘It’s still a risk,’ Mallory said.

‘I really, really can’t stay here much longer. It’s driving me bananas,’ Will said between gritted teeth. ‘Now the other patients know I’m a doctor, they’re telling me all their ills and asking what they should do—it’s worse than being at a party and having everyone demand an opinion on every little niggle!’ His half-smile took the edge off his words, but only just. He paused. ‘I know you said you were planning on being a locum for a while…have you got digs lined up?’

Uh-oh. She had a nasty feeling she knew what was coming. ‘I’m staying at The Limes.’

‘I’ve got a better solution,’ Will said. ‘My spare room. If you stay at the cottage, there’ll be a doctor on the premises if I get into trouble, so they’ll let me out.’

Yeah, right.

He grimaced. ‘Mallory, this wasn’t—isn’t—an attempt to seduce you. Sharing my cottage until I’m fit again doesn’t mean I’m expecting you to share my bed or anything like that.’

Her skin heated again. She hadn’t been thinking along those lines at all. Although now he’d mentioned it…No. He might be drop-dead gorgeous beneath the bruising and the plaster, but she wasn’t going to have an affair with Will Cooper. She was going to be sensible this time round, and make sure her working partnerships stayed that way. Work only. ‘I didn’t think you were.’

‘What, then?’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘You looked incredibly disapproving,’ he said.

‘Not disapproving…Just that I hope you don’t expect me to be, well, domesticated.’

‘Explain.’

‘I don’t do housework,’ she said quietly.

‘You don’t have to. Mrs Hammond does for me,’ he reminded her.

‘I don’t do cooking either.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Dare I ask what you do do?’

‘Cattle-herding and sheep-shearing—I did them both in Australia in my gap year. Mountaineering—I’m a qualified climber. But cooking and cleaning and laundry, no chance.’

‘That’s fine by me. We’ll live on fish and chips and pizza. Just get me out of here.’

She sighed. ‘OK. I’ll ask if you can go home tomorrow.’

‘Today,’ he said. ‘Please, Mallory?’

When he asked so nicely, how could she possibly resist?

‘Tomorrow,’ Mallory reported back a few minutes later.

‘Tomorrow?’ Will echoed in horror.

‘You can go home after the doctors’ rounds, if they’re happy with your condition. And they won’t budge on that. So unless you have any strings you can pull—and pull fast—you’re staying put tonight.’

He shook his head. ‘But I feel better. Really, I do. I promise to do all my physio, to…to…’

‘Will, you were knocked over by a car yesterday morning.’

‘But it wasn’t at high speed. The driver nearly managed an emergency stop.’

‘“Nearly” being the operative word. The car hit you. Be sensible.’

Sensible? He nearly laughed. If only she knew…‘All right. But tomorrow’s as much as I can take. Anyway, I suppose you need some time to settle in yourself. My keys are in the cabinet there—the one with the insulation tape round it’s the front door key.’

‘Insulation tape?’

‘Quickest way to tell the difference between the front and back door keys. They look pretty much the same,’ he explained. ‘I’ll sort out my spare set for you when I get home.’

‘This is a hell of a risk,’ she said. ‘You don’t know me. For all you know, I could be spinning you a line about working as a GP—I could be a thief or even an axe-murderer.’

He lifted his uninjured hand, spreading the palm in the age-old ‘so what?’ gesture. ‘If it means you get me out of here tomorrow, be my guest. Sell the stereo, take the family silver, do what you like. Just get me out of here.’

‘Be serious, Will.’

‘I trust you, Mallory,’ he said. ‘You didn’t have to tell me about what happened with Lindy, but you were honest about it. I knew about it before I offered you the job. And if there was anything else remotely dodgy about you, Nathan would have found out by now and told me.’

‘Do you always make decisions this quickly?’ Mallory asked.

No. He didn’t. He always thought things through before acting, and look what that had got him. Maybe it was crazy, asking a woman he didn’t really know to share his house, but then again maybe it was time he took some risks.

‘Yes.’ Though it wasn’t a complete lie. It was true for now. ‘Keys,’ he reminded her.

She took the bunch of keys from his cupboard.

‘Stay there tonight if you like. Did you tell The Limes how long you were staying?’

Mallory shook her head.

‘Get them to bill me for tonight. And then tomorrow you can pick…’ He stopped. He was rushing ahead of himself, making assumptions. ‘I never thought to ask you. Did you come by car or train? No, scrub that. I don’t even know if you can drive.’

‘I can, and my car’s in the hospital car park right now,’ Mallory told him with a smile.

Will sagged back against his pillows, relieved. ‘Good. Then tomorrow, Dr Ryman, you can rescue me.’




CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_8f093cb4-84f0-5811-9a04-ec501859eb0b)


MALLORY checked out of The Limes that evening and settled into Will’s cottage. It was small and functional—and it had no feminine touches, so clearly he hadn’t been living with the girl who’d hurt him. There weren’t any photographs to give her a clue either. The only three in evidence were one of a couple she assumed to be Will’s parents, one of a brown and white Border collie, and one of Will with another man. A man who looked so like him—albeit blond—that he had to be Will’s brother. Both of them were smiling. Will’s full-wattage smile was even more breathtaking than she’d guessed it might be.

And then she noticed where they were. At the top of a mountain.

If Will was a climber, why had he made such a fuss about safety? And a keen climber who was about to have an enforced lay-off would surely have made some remark about wishing they could change places. She certainly would have done.

Something didn’t quite add up.

She shook herself—it was none of her business—and familiarised herself with the rest of the cottage. The kitchen-cum-dining room was again basic but functional—there was bread in the bread-bin, cheese and butter and milk in the fridge, a bowl of fruit in the middle of the scrubbed pine table and the wine-rack was half-full. She pulled one or two bottles out to look at the labels. It didn’t look as if Will drank a lot—but what he did drink was good stuff. Very good stuff, she thought. This was a man with definite tastes. Good taste.

His living room was filled with books and CDs—there wasn’t a television, she noted, though the hi-fi system was a seriously expensive make—and his bathroom was spartan but the water was hot and plentiful. He wouldn’t be able to have a bath until his leg had healed a bit more, but he could probably manage a shower. Though he’d need a plastic garden chair to sit on so he didn’t have to balance precariously on one leg. From the little she’d seen of him, she guessed that losing his independence would be the worst thing for Will.

His small garden contained a tiny shed which was just large enough to store a lawnmower and a minimal collection of tools, but held no garden furniture. The garage didn’t yield anything either. Clearly gardening wasn’t one of Will’s interests. Though a trip to the local DIY superstore netted her a sturdy plastic chair that just about fitted in the shower.

She slept well for the first time in weeks, and Will was waiting impatiently for her the next morning, dressed and ready to go. He was actually drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table, she noted with amusement. And someone had clearly given him a shave. Will Cooper scrubbed up very nicely indeed.

Not that she should be thinking about him in that way. Renee was absolutely right. She needed a fresh start where her work wasn’t linked to her personal life. Falling for her new boss would be a complete no-no.

‘I’ve been waiting for ages. I thought you’d never get here,’ Will complained.

‘There’s no point in being here at eight if the rounds don’t finish until eleven,’ she said sweetly. ‘Thank you, Mallory, for coming to pick me up.’

‘Thank you, Mallory,’ he repeated, flushing at her gentle rebuke.

She grinned. ‘Come on, oh grumpy boss. Let’s get you home.’

Then she realised what she’d said. Home. As if it were their home. Hadn’t she already been through why they weren’t and never could be a couple? Hopefully he’d take it as meaning just his home.

She wheeled him out to her car and together they managed to cram him into the passenger seat of her small Renault.

‘I’ll have to get you insured to drive my car,’ Will said as she drove them back to Darrowthwaite.

‘Why?’

‘If we get bad weather and you have to do a house call, you’ll need a four-wheel-drive. The roads round here can get pretty icy,’ he told her.

‘Whatever.’ She wasn’t precious about always using her car. And it would be the sensible thing to do. ‘I’ve got my driving licence with me so you can fax it to the insurance company if you need to.’

‘Good. Sounds as if we’re on the same wavelength.’ He gave her a half-smile that made her feel all shivery inside. She just about managed to force herself to concentrate on the road instead.

When they arrived at his cottage, it took a while to manoeuvre him out of her car. She hadn’t thought to borrow a wheelchair so she had to help him with his crutches. But eventually they made it, and Will groaned in relief as he sank onto the sofa. ‘I could really do with a glass of wine after that. A nice cold Chablis.’

‘Not with co-proxamol,’ she said crisply.

His face mirrored his disgust. ‘That’s the one bad thing about sharing a house with another doctor. You know as much as I do,’ he complained.

‘You can have tea—or tea.’

‘Coffee?’ he tried. ‘Please?’

‘As you’ve asked nicely,’ she deadpanned.

She came back a few minutes later with a tray of coffee and cake.

Will perked up. ‘Proper coffee? I thought you didn’t do cooking?’

‘This isn’t cooking. It’s a necessity,’ she said, depressing the plunger on the cafetière and pouring the hot liquid into two mugs. ‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Neither, thanks.’

‘That’s easy, then.’

‘Mmm, and that’s nice,’ he said after his first sip. ‘Lucky guess or did someone tell you?’

‘What?’

‘Maple pecan’s my favourite.’

She smiled. ‘Neither. It’s mine.’

He looked at the tray. ‘Gingerbread, too. Better and better. All you have to do now is tell me you like anchovies on pizza and you’ll be the perfect housemate.’

‘I detest anchovies,’ she said feelingly.

‘Win some, lose some.’ He took another sip of coffee. ‘Seriously, Mallory, I appreciate you rescuing me. For the second time.’

‘Just don’t make a habit of it,’ she said lightly.

‘I’ll try.’ He paused. ‘So…what made you choose the New Forest?’

She nearly dropped her coffee. ‘What?’

‘You love mountains. And you can’t get much further from good climbing areas than the New Forest. Why not Wales, or Derbyshire, or Scotland, or here?’

She was silent for a long time. But he was a skilled doctor and she recognised how good he was at using the doctor’s greatest weapon. Patience. In the end, she decided to give in. Tell him. ‘Charles was my dad’s best friend at medical school. He offered me a job in his practice. He thought it’d be better for me to get some experience in another practice rather than going straight to join my dad and brothers. And it seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘Probably was.’ He looked at her. ‘So what happened to your climbing?’

‘There was a climbing wall at one of the sports centres nearby, and I spent my weekends here or in Derbyshire. I had a couple of weeks in the Rockies one summer.’ She smiled. ‘And I did the Three Peaks challenge—Ben Nevis, Scafell and Snowdonia. Charles, bless him, let me have the time off without having to use my holiday entitlement, because I was raising money for a local charity.’

‘But?’

She stared into her coffee. ‘I think I would have had to leave anyway. Even without the Lindy situation.’

‘Because you need the mountains.’

That, and because of Geoff. Not that she could tell Will about him. Even the thought of Geoff made her feel guilty. ‘Well. Maybe I’ll climb Everest one day. Though competition’s tough for places on an expedition.’

‘If it’s what you really want, go for it.’

There was a strange, shuttered look on Will’s face—a look she couldn’t interpret. What had she said to upset him? Had the woman who’d broken his heart gone on an expedition and not come back? Had that been the accident Hayley had mentioned—had Will been on the same expedition and felt bad because he’d been the one to come back and his girlfriend hadn’t?

But she couldn’t ask him straight out, not without being nosy or rude, and if his girlfriend had died she didn’t want to rub salt into his wounds.

Mallory took a sip of coffee and changed the subject. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Monday’s surgery.’

‘It starts at half past eight. There’s a practice meeting on Monday afternoons, too. Then house calls, if that’s OK?’

‘Ye-es. I was just wondering…would you like to sit in on my first surgery? If you feel up to it, of course.’

He frowned. ‘Why? Your details checked out. Actually, I spoke to Charles myself this morning. Before you came to pick me up.’

Her eyes widened. ‘What did he say?’

‘You’re a good doctor but you need to sort your life out.’

Had Charles told him about Geoff? Was this Will’s way of telling her he knew all about it? ‘Sort my life out,’ she echoed nervously.

‘And trust your own judgement.’

‘So he told you about Lindy.’

Will shook his head. ‘I told him what you’d told me. And he said the same thing that I did—it was an honest mistake, it could have happened to anyone and you shouldn’t give up medicine over it.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘He also said he thought you’d be happier up here, and said we should fine you twenty pence for every time you mention the c-word. Or the m-word.’

Mallory relaxed again. So Charles hadn’t mentioned how nearly she’d been his daughter-in-law. Or maybe Charles hadn’t thought she was right for Geoff either, but hadn’t wanted to interfere in his son’s life. ‘They used to do that at the practice, and buy cream cakes for everyone on a Friday with the proceeds,’ she said wryly. ‘And if there wasn’t enough in the kitty, they’d start asking questions where I’d have to answer “climb” or “mountain”!’

‘Noted. I’ll get Marion onto it,’ Will said dryly. She wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not until he added, still straight-faced, ‘And bearing in mind where we are, I’d say it’ll be more like two rounds of cream cakes a week.’

‘Meanie,’ she retorted, smiling back. ‘Seriously, Will, I’d be happier if you sat in. Just so you can see whether I’m good enough to fill in for you.’

‘Mallory, I have every faith in you. You just need to get your confidence back. But if it makes you happier, of course I’ll sit in,’ he said.

The weekend went incredibly quickly. Will was a good host, with charming manners, though Mallory noticed that he rarely smiled, and never properly—not like in that photograph. And it wasn’t just post-accident pain, she was sure. Every so often he’d simply clam up. He’d get this intense, brooding look that told her very clearly to back off, so she didn’t push it. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she might have said to upset him. Or why he didn’t smile.

At least he’d meant it about not expecting her to be domesticated. He’d even suggested that they should work their way through every take-away in the high street, one by one—and, even better, put the washing-up straight in the dishwasher. The cottage might be small and spartan in most respects, but Will had the mod cons that really mattered. Not to mention the fact that he lived near a superb pizzeria.

She spent Sunday on Scafell—after making Will promise he’d ring on her mobile phone if he needed anything—and walked her demons off. And before she knew it, it was half past eight on Monday morning. Will was in the consulting room beside her, propped in a chair with his crutches close to hand. He’d just had time to show her where he kept everything, and it was time to face her first patient.

Her first patient since Lindy had been hospitalised…

‘This is Craig Clarke and his mother Rita,’ Will said. ‘Rita, Craig, this is Dr Mallory Ryman—she’s standing in for me for a while.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Rita said. ‘First on the scene when Dr Will rescued Kelly, weren’t you?’

‘Something like that.’ Mallory smiled back at her. No doubt the Darrowthwaite grapevine knew that she was Will’s house guest, too. There had been half a dozen visitors over the weekend, all bearing fruit or home-made cakes or chocolates for their ‘Dr Will’. And the amount of get-well-soon cards and pictures waiting for him at the surgery, drawn by his younger patients, had to be seen to be believed. Will was clearly popular with his patients. ‘So what’s up with you, Craig?’

The small boy sniffed. ‘Mum says she’s sick of me having a cold. She says you’ll give me some antibiotics,’ he finished, ‘to make me better.’

‘If it’s a just cold, antibiotics won’t work, I’m afraid,’ Mallory said gently. ‘How long has Craig had a runny nose, Mrs Clarke?’

‘Off and on, as long as I can remember. It’s like a constant cold. Sniffles, a cough…’

‘Any wheezing?’ Mallory asked.

Rita shook her head.

‘Is it worse at any particular time?’

‘Weekends,’ Rita said. ‘And at night—he coughs something chronic at night.’

It was beginning to sound more like some kind of allergic illness, Mallory thought. Possibly asthma. ‘What do you normally do at the weekends, Craig?’

He shrugged. ‘Help Dad with the sheep, play in the barn.’




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