‘The leg may well turn black if you don’t take more care of it,’ Jake said bluntly. He looked up at Barbara. ‘Is it OK if Dr McMahon and I perform a piece of minor surgery on your veranda?’
‘It’s Mum’s veranda,’ Barbara said. She smiled and motioned to where her mother was watching through the bedroom window. ‘As long as you don’t mind an audience, go right ahead.’
This was seriously weird, Kirsty decided.
Jake propped the farmer on cushions. He spread newspapers under his leg and asked Kirsty to administer a full shin block. Then he proceeded to clean the wound of accumulated debris-of which there was plenty-getting rid of the dead flaps of torn skin and checking the circulation around the wound. Dirty wounds were best left open as much as possible. They both knew that to Herbert cosmetic appearances were a very minor consideration, but the tear was big and Jake needed to pull it together with a few stitches.
The kids watched. A couple of hens clucked past, and all the while Herbert lay back and discussed the state of the poddy market with Barbara.
‘Those damned Friesians of mine only got fifty quid last week,’ he complained. ‘You and your old man got seventy.’
‘That’s because we feed ’em right,’ Barbara said severely. ‘You’re too much of a skinflint to give them what they need, and whoever buys them has to go into TLC mode.’
‘What’s TLC?’
‘Tender loving care,’ Barbara retorted. ‘Something you ought to have used on your leg, you dopey git.’
There was a wealth of affection between them, Kirsty realised, and then she thought, more-there was a wealth of affection within this whole community. Jake cared for all these people. They cared for Jake and they cared for each other. He was right. This was the best community in which to raise kids.
What if Susie wanted to stay here after the baby was born?
What was she thinking that for? Why would Susie want to stay?
Why would she want to go home?
Not for family, Kirsty thought ruefully. They had no one but each other.
But here…here Susie had Angus and the Boyces and Jake and a vegetable garden and people who were prepared to love her.
Maybe Susie might want to stay.
Which left Kirsty where?
Home was where the heart was. Another platitude. She was getting good at platitudes.
So what did she have back in Manhattan to tug at her heart? Who did she have?
Robert?
Ha.
Oh, stop it, she told herself fiercely as she watched Jake dress the farmer’s leg. You’re being maudlin.
She’d go back to the castle right now, she decided. Jake put on a last piece of sticking plaster. She administered a dose of intravenous antibiotic with care and rose to leave. Her work here was done.
‘Surgery tomorrow morning at nine to have this checked,’ Jake was telling Herbert.
‘Aw, Doc, you know I don’t have time to come to surgery.’
‘I’ll ring Maudie and tell her to tip out your stock of homebrewed if you’re not there,’ he retorted, as the farmer struggled to his feet as well. The downside of using the veranda floor as an operating table was that patient access wasn’t so great. Jake took one arm and Kirsty the other. Herbert was a bit wobbly. He reached into his pocket for his car keys but Barbara was before him, darting forward and snatching them from his hand.
‘I’ll call Sam from the dairy to take you home,’ Barbara said. ‘Milking’s finished. He won’t mind.’ As he opened his mouth to argue she took a couple of steps backward with the keys. ‘You and Maudie can pick up your car after the doctor’s surgery tomorrow, and if Maudie doesn’t tell me you’ve been looking after yourself, you’re not getting your keys back at all.’
The farmer glowered, but only for a minute. His glower slowly faded and became a rueful grin.
‘Dratted women,’ he told Jake. ‘You know what you’re doing, not getting leg-shackled again.’ He cast an appraising look at Kirsty. ‘Though from what I hear, you’d better look out.’
‘I will,’ Jake said, and Kirsty released the farmer’s arm as if it burned.
‘Though she’s a looker,’ Herbert said, grinning.
‘Do you mind?’ she said faintly.
‘Not a bit,’ Herbert said, his grin broadening. ‘I can see what they’re talking about now.’
There was a choking sound from Barbara.
‘Now, don’t get offended,’ Barbara begged. ‘You can’t hold it against Herbert-or any of us, for that matter. This district has been matchmaking for Dr Jake for years. We just have to set eyes on an eligible woman and we’re at it. Indulge us.’
So maybe Jake had his reasons for saying he wasn’t wanting a relationship up front, Kirsty thought, a flash of sympathy filtering though her anger.
‘I’m not offended,’ she managed. ‘Just bemused that you can think anything so ridiculous.’
‘Ridiculous is this district’s specialty,’ Jake said wryly, but then his cell phone rang. ‘Dammit, please, let this not be more work.’
She should take this chance to leave, Kirsty thought. She should. But she hesitated just a moment too long.
‘You’re kidding,’ Jake was saying into the phone. ‘How can you do that? It’s almost grounds for dismissal without a reference.’ He heaved a doleful sigh.
‘Fine, then,’ he said, even more dolefully. ‘We’ll just starve. No, no, think nothing of it. We’ll fade to shadows of our former selves, but we’ll fade as martyrs.’
He replaced the phone on his belt and found them all looking at him.
‘It’s a tragedy,’ he said, still doleful.
‘Tragedy?’ Kirsty asked, cautious. His eyes were twinkling in that dangerous way he had that said there was no tragedy at all.
‘Angus and Susie are feeling better.’
‘Um…that’s a tragedy?’ She didn’t want to ask, Kirsty decided. But his eyes were laughing openly, even though his mouth was trying to be tragic. He had her intrigued.
‘Mrs Boyce has made soup and sausage rolls for dinner,’ he said sadly. ‘Everyone’s been exercising, they were hungry and we’re late. She couldn’t make them wait for us and I’m sorry to have to inform you, Kirsty, that they’ve eaten the lot.’ His face grew even more mournful. ‘Which leaves you and me with no dinner. Margie says we need to buy fish and chips on the way home.’
‘Have something here,’ Barbara said, and hesitated. ‘I can stretch…’
Country hospitality at its best, Kirsty thought. This lady was managing kids, a farm and a dying mother, and she still offered to feed all comers.
‘Margie can give us eggs on toast,’ Jake said, sighing his martyred sigh again. ‘But no.’ He held up a hand to stop Barbara’s protest. ‘Dr McMahon and I are true medical heroes. We know how to exist on a piece of stale bread and dripping and tea made with a used teabag. Fish and chips will be sheer luxury.’
‘Have it on the beach,’ Herbert said approvingly. ‘Just like me and the missus. We take a bottle of wine down there every Friday night, and nine times out of ten it ends up in a spot of hanky-panky.’ He suddenly realised what he was saying and gave an embarrassed snort. ‘I mean…when we were younger it ended up in hanky-panky.’ His colour deepened as he realised they were all looking at him, fascinated. ‘In the old days. I mean…’
Ooh, sexy, Kirsty thought. Fish and chips and hanky-panky with Herbert.
‘That sounds just what you both need,’ Mavis volunteered from her window behind them. ‘If I was forty years younger, I’d join you.’
Fish and chips and hanky-panky with Herbert and Mavis, too?
Or just fish and chips with Jake. On the beach.
Where was she going? Into territory that was very dangerous indeed.
‘We’ll buy fish and chips and take them home,’ Kirsty said, a trifle desperately, but Barbara shook her head.
‘I can guess what’ll happen if you do that, and I bet you can, too. They’ll all have had sausage rolls, and they’ll
