Risking Her Heart on the Trauma Doc Read online

  ‘Jess.’

  Jess.

  She gave him a brief nod, and seemed pleased about the situation. He had the idea that the quicker she got used to the place—where everything was and the procedures they followed—the quicker he could work on his own again, get that distance back and rebuild his wall. Which was something he clearly needed to do. With every second he spent with her, he could feel his willpower crumbling away.

  ‘Good. Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Adam, you’ll meet us for lunch?’ his mum asked.

  ‘Aye.’

  They both watched Judy walk away, and then Jess pulled across the cubicle’s curtain and introduced herself to John McAllister, who shook her hand.

  ‘Nasty cut you’ve got there,’ she said, peering closer.

  When she leant in Adam could smell her perfume. It wasn’t anything overpowering, but light and fresh, and it did strange things to his senses.

  ‘Aye. Did it this morning, hauling in the latest catch.’

  ‘Crab? Cod?’

  ‘Mackerel. Normally we get a good haul this time of year. Usually come back with a full load. But we had to cut it short today, because of this.’

  ‘Must be nice to be out on the boat... How big is your crew?’

  ‘Just the three of us.’

  Adam began to feel like a spare part. How had she managed to make him feel this way? He’d been in complete control of this situation to start with, but now that Jess was there, and his patient was also falling under her spell, he began to feel a little irritated.

  Angry with himself—for this was his problem, not hers—he picked up his instruments once again and began suturing as Jess and his patient talked.

  Looking on the bright side, perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad at all. Jess could talk to the patients whilst he got on with the job at hand and then maybe he could get away with not having to talk to her. Or the patients! The less interaction the better. He could be monosyllabic—or just grunt.

  Who are you kidding? You could never be that rude.

  Besides, she seemed just as nervous as he was. He could hear it in her voice. In the slight quaver in her throat. Probably just first-day nerves. She’d be fine in a few days.

  And so will I. It was just a shock, that’s all. My foundations were...challenged.

  At least that was what he tried to tell himself, but he could feel that his hands were sweating like mad in the gloves, and he couldn’t quite tie the stitches correctly. He kept fumbling, taking deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

  He knew what to do—had done this thousands of times! He’d sutured with a steady hand under the threat of bullets before. But for some reason—probably because Jess was looking over his shoulder—he was now having difficulties.

  When the next stitch failed to tie, he put down his instruments and stretched out his fingers, as if they were cramped.

  ‘Everything all right?’ she asked.

  Even though she hadn’t said anything derogatory he felt belittled—and embarrassed that he couldn’t tie a simple suture. He was a trauma doctor. He should be able to do this blindfold.

  ‘I’m fine!’ he replied, a little more aggressively than he liked.

  ‘I’d be happy to take over if you’d like a break. Your mum said you’d done one shift already...’

  Adam looked at his patient. He didn’t seem to mind who did the stitches as long as it got done. The man had work to do and no doubt wanted to get back to his boat. And Adam didn’t want his pride to get in the way.

  ‘No, it’s okay. It was just a little cramping, that’s all. I can do it. You can observe.’ He regretted the suggestion as soon as he’d made it when she stepped closer to him and leaned in and his body reacted keenly to her presence.

  What the hell was happening?

  He picked up his instruments once again and concentrated so hard anyone would have thought he was a student again, being observed in an OSCE. That was an Objective Structured Clinical Examination, which often used to test clinical skill performances and competencies in medical training. Students would be set a series of tests and be examined by one or two examiners in a real or simulated situation.

  He’d always hated that sort of thing—being observed so intently, knowing that the observer was looking for mistakes. And he definitely didn’t want to make a mistake in front of Dr Jess Young. It was important to him that she saw him as the confident and knowledgeable doctor that he was.

  This time he made the stitch, and the next one, and the next. He slowly let out a pent-up breath and concentrated hard until the suturing was done. He smiled at John as he finished and dressed the wound, then gave him aftercare instructions.

  Once he was done, he dismissed him, cleared up his equipment and glanced at Jess. ‘Right, I just need to write this up.’

  ‘Okay.’ She followed him over to the doctors’ computer terminal and sat down beside him. ‘I really like your parents.’

  He smiled. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Do you find it weird, having your dad as your boss?’

  ‘I did a little, at first. But I find it easy to separate the two. When we’re at work we’re colleagues and good friends, respectful of each other. When we’re at home we’re more relaxed and like family.’

  ‘I like your mum, especially. Have your parents always worked together?’

  ‘Mum was a nurse when Dad began here as a doctor. She gave up nursing because of ill health, but sort of took over being Dad’s secretary and the hospital receptionist.’

  ‘I hope she’s okay now?’

  He nodded and glanced at her curiously. He’d known she was beautiful from about a metre away, but up close he saw she had skin like porcelain and brown eyes tinted with flecks of honey-gold. And her mouth, her lips...

  I’ll probably dream about that mouth...

  Her smile lit up her entire face and he could have admired it all day. But then he became aware that he was probably staring a little bit too much and felt self-conscious.

  Thankfully, she was the one to break the awkwardness. ‘So, what sort of patients do you normally get here? I don’t remember the hospital being this small.’

  ‘You’ve been here before?’

  ‘My father used to bring us to Thorney every year for a week’s holiday. I can remember driving past this place and thinking it was huge.’ She laughed.

  ‘It’s a cottage hospital. We don’t do anything overly complicated here. Anything that requires major surgery gets sent to the mainland. We have a midwife here, a gerontologist and a paediatrician, and a primary care clinic. I don’t know what you’re used to, or if you’ve worked in a big city. We get scrapes and cuts, the occasional broken bone, one or two urgent resus cases. Typical stuff.’

  ‘You enjoy it after working abroad? That must have been exciting?’

  ‘Very much so. But I enjoy making a difference here.’

  Adam typed in his pass code. The screen sprang into life and he began typing in John McAllister’s treatment details.

  He became acutely aware of how close she was. Normally he would sit here and be just as close to other members of staff and it never mattered. But with Jess it was different. His pulse rate had accelerated and he felt hot and nervous, his fingers skipping over the keys and making mistakes that he had to delete, bashing the delete key with an irritation he didn’t want to feel. He could feel her eyes upon him and almost couldn’t stand it.

  ‘What about you? Where have you worked before? Will a cottage hospital on a tiny island be enough for you?’

  Jess nodded. ‘Absolutely. I was working in a big hospital in Nairn, in A&E mostly, but things happen in life that make you reconsider what you’re doing with it. After I lost my father I took stock of my life and knew I needed something with a more sedate pace. I remembered this place and when a vacancy came up, I knew I had to fill it.’


  But Adam saw something in her eyes as she talked that intrigued him. It was as if she was telling him the truth but keeping out some parts that she didn’t want to share with him.

  He looked at her, considering her. ‘So, you’re focused?’

  ‘I am. And ready for what comes next.’

  ‘Well, you’ll get a wide variety here. Lots of the staff have multiple roles. It’s never boring.’

  ‘That’s good. I’m not after boring, and I’m not after easy. I want you to push me hard. Help further my education and understanding.’

  ‘I can do that.’

  ‘What about you? What made you choose to come back here and not stay abroad?’

  He shrugged his shoulders and tried to act as if his decision to work here hadn’t been a big deal at all. ‘It was time to come home. I’d been away for too long and I wanted to work with the people I lived with. I like the continuity of care in the community we have here on the island. There are roughly twenty thousand people on Thorney, and they look after each other. It’s close-knit and I like that. It’s family.’

  ‘And you needed to be back with family? I get that. It’s the most important thing, isn’t it?’

  She sounded sad. And wistful. It made him wonder what her sadness was. She’d mentioned losing her father, and Adam couldn’t imagine losing his. It would rock his world when that terrible day came. Did she know how strong she was, carrying on with that kind of heartache? He admired her.

  ‘Yes. It is,’ he said.

  And I’m staring again.

  He turned away. ‘I guess you don’t have a GP yet?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I’ll have to register with someone now that I’m living over here.’

  He smiled. ‘I can give you a few names of the doctors who still have places on their lists.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’

  Was it, though? He felt as if he’d done nothing but judge and assess her since they’d met. She seemed sweet and kind, had been good with the one patient he’d watched her interact with. She was easy to talk to, and clearly intelligent, and it was hardly her fault that his body was reacting to her in ways he didn’t want or need.

  Showing her a little kindness was all he could do.

  But when you recognised something in yourself, you could easily see it in others. And he’d seen how she’d looked away from him when she’d spoken about coming here for the job. Something had hurt her apart from the death of her father. It still hurt her. But what business was it of his? She didn’t have to tell him anything and nor did he want to know.

  Keep her at arm’s length.

  ‘I’ve noticed you have a limp. Can I ask what happened?’ Her cheeks flushed as she asked the question, as if she was not sure he would answer her.

  ‘Oh...car accident. It’s not a big problem.’

  She nodded, smiling, but he could tell she didn’t believe him. But she’d done a good thing by asking him that particular question—his walls had gone back up.

  He finished off John McAllister’s notes and locked down the computer. There was no one else waiting in the walk-in clinic.

  ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some coffee,’ he said.

  Perhaps a hit of caffeine would refresh him and knock some sense into his disturbed, newly aware body, which was most definitely feeling way too many feels.

  * * *

  So the photos of Adam in Jack’s office had been one thing, but the man himself...

  Holy moly.

  If she’d been able to fan herself she would have—but, no, she’d had to stand there and try to act normal. Try to act as if she hadn’t had her legs swept out from under her—because that was how she’d felt.

  Adam was hot!

  Piercing blue eyes... That just-got-of-bed hair that looked as if a comb had never touched it, but had in fact clearly been carefully styled, flopping over his forehead all too casually... Broad, strong shoulders...the sleeves of his blue checked shirt straining over the size of his biceps... A neat, flat waist...

  Definitely a ten out of ten in the looks department.

  And he was going to be her mentor.

  How on earth am I going to be able to work with him every day?

  She’d managed to introduce herself without tripping over her tongue, and she hoped she’d also managed to look capable and interested in his patient.

  When he’d stood up to take them both over to the doctors’ station she’d been aware he was a good few inches taller than her, and estimated he had to be just over six feet in height. His limp was barely there, but she’d noticed that he favoured his right leg over his left, and that the damaged leg didn’t seem to have as much ease of movement as the other.

  Nerves had got the best of her. It had been inevitable really. With nothing to do with her hands, she’d started asking him questions. The one about his leg had just popped out and she’d cringed inwardly. It was hardly a first day question, was it? She could have waited until she’d known him for a few weeks.

  Had she been rude? Had she pried a little bit too far into something that was none of her business?

  He’d brushed her off, saying it had been a car accident as if it was nothing—but she’d worked in A&E, and an accident that had managed to damage his leg up near what looked like his hip flexors had to have been considerable. He’d been hurt. Badly. Yet he was brushing it off.

  She liked him for that. Some people couldn’t wait to tell you all about their ills and what had happened to them—the fact that Adam hadn’t, just boosted her estimation of him. Plus, she understood his not wanting to tell her everything. There was plenty she was holding back, and she would continue to do so until she absolutely had to reveal it.

  A person’s secrets were their own.

  Whatever was going on with Adam Campbell was absolutely nothing to do with her.

  He was a colleague. Nothing more. No matter how stunning he looked. No matter what he did to her insides when he looked at her. No matter how he made her legs feel like jelly.

  And she would hardly answer any questions he asked her about her health, now, would she?

  * * *

  Adam led Jess to the small staff room, where there was a kitchenette in the corner.

  Her question had caused his barricades to come up again, for which he was grateful. He had spent the last year or so building them. Trying to close the door on a terrible chapter in his life that he didn’t want to think about.

  He was just a little testy today because Anoush’s birthday was coming up soon, and his damned brain kept interrupting his day-to-day life to remind him of that fact and keep him on edge.

  That first birthday without her had been the most awful day of his life, and he didn’t want to have to go through that agony again. He’d managed to hide his suffering from those who knew him here. He’d even booked the day off. But he wasn’t going to do that this year.

  Last time he’d allowed himself to wallow in his pity and his grief, and he’d drunk more than he should have to try and numb the pain he’d been feeling. It had been the wrong tactic to employ. So this year he was going to take it as just another day and show up to work. If he kept busy—if he made his focus other people, instead of himself—it just might be bearable.

  Jess had asked about his leg, but the injury had happened in the ambush and he didn’t want to speak of that ever again. He wanted to put it behind him and use his theory for himself to ignore, ignore, ignore. But something about her asking had instantly niggled, and he’d had to say something.

  He wasn’t ready to share about what had happened in Afghanistan. If he was going to talk to anyone about that it was going to be a therapist, and seeing as there was no therapist at the cottage hospital on Thorney Island he guessed he would have to go to the mainland for that kind of service.

  Th
ere was probably a counsellor knocking around the hospital—because he couldn’t imagine that a hospital caring for twenty thousand people wouldn’t at least have someone trained in mental health—but he wasn’t going to go looking for them. Not now. And probably, if it was left up to him, he’d never do so. He was coping on his own. He didn’t need someone poking about in his mind and he certainly didn’t need Jess doing so either.

  What was it about her that bothered him so? Was it just physical? The way her brown eyes had met his? He’d felt an instant connection. A connection that shouldn’t have happened with a perfect stranger. But it had, and he’d been left feeling winded—as if he’d taken a bullet to the lung. His heart had begun to pound, to race, he’d grown hot, and when she’d smiled nervously at him it had all been too much!

  She’d looked at him and asked him that question as if she really cared. And that was odd because she hardly knew him. Maybe it was just the doctor in her, or something, but there’d been something about the look in her eyes that had told him he needed to get away. Self-preservation.

  He didn’t need someone caring about him. He didn’t need to make strong connections. That was the whole point of coming back to Thorney Island. He wanted the safety of family. Of a world where there were no complicated relationships. Where nothing ever happened. The point wasn’t to get involved with anyone apart from his parents, whom he knew would not be able to stop themselves from caring. He didn’t need it from anyone else.

  ‘Coffee? Tea?’ he asked.

  ‘Tea, please. White, no sugar.’

  ‘Take a seat.’

  He ran his hands through his hair as he walked towards the tea-making facilities and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He needed to lose the hair trigger. This was Thorney Island, not Kabul. There were no wars here—no landmines, no ambushes. Just the people he’d grown up with. Fishermen, farmers... Run-of-the-mill people who were just getting on with their lives. Just like those people in Afghanistan until war had come.

  He had to stop looking for traps—had to stop second-guessing everything. He had to get a hold of himself and tell himself that Jess was not the enemy. She was a junior doctor, here to learn under his tutelage, and once he’d done that job he could set her free to work under her own steam. The quicker he did that, the better.