Riley?
She was suddenly standing chest deep, her hands up to shield her eyes from the sun. Was she imagining things?
Maybe not.
It was time to get out. The sensation that Riley might be sharing her water-space was somehow disturbing. She caught the next tiny wave in, then wandered up to the lifesavers.
She motioned-casually, she hoped-toward the surfer.
‘He’s good.’
‘He is,’ the older lifesaver said. ‘Bit driven, that one. Surfs no matter what the weather.’
‘Who is he?’ Though she already knew.
‘That’s our Doc Riley,’ the other guy said. ‘Puts himself out there, our doc. Great doc. Great surfer. Not bad with a billiard cue either.’
‘Crap at darts, though,’ the other guy retorted, happy to chat on a quiet morning. ‘The missus says I should let him win because he hauled her brother off his fishing boat when it went down. Doc’d hate that, though. Letting him win.’ He gazed out at Riley who’d caught his next wave. ‘I sometimes wish he’d come off out there and let someone else save him. Balance things up, like.’
‘Like that’s going to happen,’ the other guy said, and then he turned back to Pippa. ‘You’re English. Tourist?’
‘I’m here for my honeymoon,’ she said. It felt absurd to say it. But good. Honeymoons were great if they didn’t involve Roger.
‘So where’s the husband?’
‘He never got past fiance and I left him in England.’ The casual conversation was starting to feel like fun. ‘Isn’t that the best place for fiances?’
‘If you say so.’ The younger lifesaver was checking her out from the toes up, and she thought she deserved that. She’d practically thrown him a come-on line. ‘Hey, he’s coming out. Doc, I mean,’ he said, motioning to the surf. ‘That’s early.’
And Riley was right… there. One minute Riley had been far out at sea, the next he’d surfed across the channel, caught one of the tiddler waves, then reached the beach before she’d figured whether she wanted to see him.
Why wouldn’t she want to see him? She tried to think about it while he hauled his surfboard onto dry sand and strolled up to meet them.
The lifeguards greeted him like an old friend. She should greet him as well but she was too busy getting her breath back.
He looked… Awesome.
Weren’t surfers supposed to wear wetsuits?
He was only in board shorts. He’d be a lot easier to handle in a wetsuit, she decided.
Handle?
Handle as in come to terms with. Handle as in greet like a casual acquaintance.
But the look of him… He was every inch a surfer, tall, tanned and ripped. He didn’t look like a doctor. He looked like he should be… should be…
Maybe she should just stop thinking. Her silence was starting to be marked.
‘Hi,’ she managed at last, and he smiled, and that smile… He had no right to look like that. It threw her right off balance.
‘I thought it was you,’ he said. ‘Have you been looking after her?’ he asked the lifeguards. ‘This is Pippa, our floater from Sunday night.’
Whoa. How to embarrass a girl. But neither of the lifeguards looked judgmental. Instead they looked impressed.
‘You managed to stay out there for eight hours?’
‘Not by choice.’
‘I’d guess not,’ the older lifesaver said. ‘And not because of the fiance left in England?’
‘Um… no.’
‘I thought you’d stick to the hotel pool,’ Riley said, and then a mum yelled from the end of the beach that her kid had his toe stuck between two rocks and the lifeguards left them to go and see.
‘More toe trouble?’ Pippa said, striving for casual. ‘You guys could start a collection.’
‘We try to keep them attached,’ Riley said. ‘There’s something a bit offputting about toes in specimen bottles. Even ones painted pink with stars. Are you okay?’
‘I… Yes.’ What else was a girl to say?
‘Nightmares?’ he asked, suddenly gentle. In doctor mode. Only he didn’t look anything like any doctor she’d ever met. Standing in the sun with water dripping across his eyes, his wet hair sort of flopping, his chest glistening…
‘No,’ she managed, and was absurdly pleased that she’d got the word out.
‘How’s the cough? Mary says you’re booked at Outpatients this afternoon for a full check.’
‘Cough’s settled. I’m all better.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ he said. ‘How’s the heart?’
She knew what he meant. Cardiovascular concerns didn’t come into this. He was enquiring about Roger. ‘Happy,’ she said, a trifle defiantly.
‘Sure?’
‘I’m sure. I’m a bit humiliated but the honeymoon’s helping. Especially as Roger’s paying.’
‘Good ole Roger. Bride living it up at his expense. Is he back at the coal face, paying for it?’
‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for him,’ she snapped, and he grinned.
‘I never would. I’m on your side.’
‘Guys stick together.’
‘Not me. I stick with my patients.’
‘I’m not your patient,’ she said, and he nodded, thoughtful. ‘No. But you were.’
‘Meaning you have to be loyal.’
‘Meaning I can’t ask you out to dinner.’
That was one to take her breath away. She fought for a little composure. It took a while. The way he was making her feel… Maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t be asked out to dinner.
‘So tell me about Amy,’ she said, because he didn’t seem to be making any move to leave, to walk away.
‘Patient confidentiality.’
‘You just told these guys I was the… what did you call me? Sunday night’s floater?’
‘That was a non-specific impression.’
‘So give me a non-specific impression of Amy.’
He hesitated. He shaded his eyes and watched the surf for a bit and she wondered if he’d gone too far already. She was, after all, his patient.
But he didn’t leave, and when he spoke his voice was low and lazy and she thought she was exaggerating her importance to him. He was simply settling into his morning on the beach and wouldn’t be hurried.
‘Amy’s amazing,’ he said at last. ‘She deserves everything we can do for her and more. She’s the oldest of ten kids and she cares for them all. She’s bossy and smart and tough-she’ll fight for what she needs and I’ve seen her bloodied by it. Only we let her down. We thought of her as a kid. The nursing sister out where she comes from at Dry Gum Creek was gutted when she found out she was pregnant. Her mother would never have told her the facts and Riley junior is the result.’
‘So why is she here?’
‘We can’t deliver babies at Dry Gum-there’s no resident doctor. Normally we bring the mums here two weeks before their babies are due but Louise, our obstetrician, was concerned at Amy’s age. She thought she’d be better at the teen centre in Sydney. So we took her there but she ran away, here, where she knows me. Sensible or not, she trusts me and she made it here before the baby arrived. We can only be grateful she didn’t hitch a ride all the way back to Dry Gum.’
