City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

exchange on that long-ago evening had meant something to her…even as he recognised his folly.

Her hands tipped the shell from palm to palm as she contemplated him for a moment. ‘Want to walk?’ she said, waving a hand vaguely along the beach. ‘Just along to the rocks and back.’

‘Sure.’ He levered off his runners and hooked his fingers into the heels. Sand sifted between his toes in a soft caress. When Terri moved away, he fell into step with her.

The gentle sibilance of the waves filled a small silence. He felt an odd mixture of relaxation and intense awareness of every move that she made.

‘You said something important to me that night.’ Her voice was deliciously husky, easy to listen to.

‘Now I am worried. Wisdom brewed in a beer bottle.’ He grimaced. Should he be embarrassed or pleased that she apparently remembered something after all? ‘What pearl did I drop?’

‘That one of the hardest lessons is not being able to save everyone.’

‘Ah. Yes.’ An echo of his harsh feelings trickled through his memory. Such bitterness and anger at the senselessness of his cousin’s death. What chance had Terri had to soothe his pain? Yet she’d tried after he’d pushed everyone else away. And she’d succeeded to a degree. Their kiss had distracted him. It was that he remembered most clearly about that night, not his grief.

‘You were right. Failure can be hard to live with.’ She sounded sombre. Was she thinking about her husband? Had she tried to save him after the explosion? He was trying to frame a diplomatic question when she said, ‘You were talking about Kevin, weren’t you?’

A shadow darkened his mood for a moment. His cousin had been young, full of promise, full of male bravado-a reflection of himself. ‘Mmm. I was still pretty raw.’

She tilted her head to look at him. ‘You were very close?’

‘We grew up together.’ The simple sentence couldn’t begin to describe their relationship. His throat grew thick. ‘Mum used to say that we were more like twins than cousins.’

They reached the rocks and silently turned to retrace their steps.

She stopped to throw the shell into the water then scrubbed her hands together. When she turned her gaze met his. ‘Dad said you were working on Kevin when he arrived at the scene.’

He’d forgotten that her father had been the local police sergeant at the time. It’d been her father who had pulled him away from Kevin’s body when the paramedics had arrived. A band of stiffness tightened around his larynx. He cleared his throat. ‘It wasn’t enough.’

In the small pause that followed, he watched a wave ebb, its highest point marked by a thin line of froth. ‘I felt responsible for the accident.’

‘Why?’ Her voice held only curiosity. Nothing more. Would she judge him when she knew the whole story? Every now and then he still wondered if he’d done things differently, if he’d picked his words more carefully…but thinking that way was pointless.

He flexed his shoulders, feeling the old weight of his dereliction. ‘We’d argued about his recklessness. Kevin rode as though he was immortal.’ He lifted his eyes back to hers. ‘Hell, I suppose we both did. He didn’t even make it through the first bend. I saw him hit the car head on.’

‘Oh, Luke.’ He could hear her distress, felt unexpectedly soothed by the knowledge it was for him.

‘I grew up after that.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She put her hand on his arm.

He stared down into her eyes for a long second, feeling his heart twist. ‘Still got that soft heart, haven’t you, Terri? I know it wasn’t my fault…now. At the time…’ He shrugged.

After a moment, he reached out to stroke her cheek, her skin soft and cool beneath his fingertips. She shivered and desire punched into him, shortening his breath, tightening his gut.

Would she resist if he pulled her close? Folded her into his body? Covered her lips with his?

Finished what they’d started all those years ago. Right here. Right now.

The connection stretched. Then she snatched her hand back, removing it from his elbow, and folded her arms.

He dragged in a huge breath and took a mental step back. ‘You’re cold. We should go in.’

‘Yes.’ Head down, she made a beeline for the trees at the top of the beach. Almost as though she was trying to escape. Had she sensed the desperation with which he’d held himself in check?

He smiled grimly. Surely if she had, she’d be running.

The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. Touching her had created a tension that hadn’t dissipated even though the physical link had broken.

‘So how are you settling in? And Alexis?’ Terri sounded slightly out of breath. Still because of him? Or was it the cracking pace she’d set?

He grasped at her change of subject, relieved one of them was functioning above waist level.

‘Okay.’ He thought of yesterday’s asthma attack and the dramatics which had preceded it. ‘Allie says I’ve blighted her young life by dragging her halfway around the world to the back of beyond. She wanted me to leave her behind with one of her friends.’

‘She must miss them,’ Terri said softly.

‘We’re only here for a year. She’ll make new friends if she gives herself the chance.’ He was dismayed by the defensiveness he could hear in his voice in reaction to Terri’s gentle compassion for his daughter. Frustration mixed with self-disgust. At least talking about this took his mind off the other source of frustration walking up the sandy path ahead of him. Though not entirely. Even in the dim light, he could see Terri’s slender hips swaying in her pale jeans.

‘What are her hobbies?’

‘Hobbies? Oh, hobbies. Yes.’ God, get a grip, man. What were his daughter’s hobbies? ‘Soccer. She plays soccer.’

‘There’s a junior soccer league she can join.’

He reached up to push a low branch out of the way. ‘Actually, that’s a damned good idea. Thanks.’

‘A year’s a long time when you’re her age,’ she said a few steps later.

‘It’ll be a bloody long time when you’re my age if she’s going to sulk for the whole time.’

Terri chuckled.

‘Thanks for the sympathy,’ he muttered, holding back a self-deprecating smile.

‘Sorry. I’m not really laughing at you.’ Kind humour mixed with the understanding in her soft words. ‘It must be difficult for both of you.’

‘Mmm. I’m only being spoken to when she can’t avoid it. The way she’s behaving I’ll need to get her intensive counselling to recover. Maybe I should book some for myself while I’m at it.’ He was making light of the situation but his heart was weighed down by the knowledge of his daughter’s unhappiness. There was no way around it. He was committed to helping his father for this year.

‘I’m sure you’ll work it out.’ Terri stepped onto the veranda of the cottage. ‘Well, this is my stop.’

He should go but her obvious relief made him push his welcome. Just for a few minutes more. A chance to work on his familiarity plan, give it another opportunity to kick in. Besides, he needed the small respite before facing the tension back at the house. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.’

Her pleased look faded. He suppressed a smile and waited.

‘Wouldn’t you?’ She turned her head slightly as though she made a quick inventory of the rooms. It made him wonder what she didn’t want him to see, but all she said was, ‘You’d better come in, then.’

‘Thanks.’

They wiped the sand off their feet at the door.

‘It’ll just be instant,’ she said, glancing at him as he followed her into the compact kitchen.

In the artificial light, he clearly saw the purple-blue smudges forming under both her eyes and a faint bruise on the bridge of her nose.

‘Coffee.’ She froze with the jar clutched to her chest as he stepped closer. ‘What are you doing?’

‘How’s your nose?’ Cupping her face, he tilted it to the light. Her carotid pulse jumped against the edge of his hands. Masculine satisfaction surged through him.

‘Fine.’

‘No sign of any problems after last night?’ Her skin felt soft and smooth beneath his finger tips.