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A Child to Heal Them Page 7
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Page 7
Death.
That kind of thought made her blood run cold.
‘Abeje? It’s Miss Tasha.’
‘She’s sleeping. She was awake a fair bit during the night,’ Quinn interjected from behind her.
She hadn’t known he was there.
‘Was she bad?’
He took her arm and walked her away from the bed. ‘I was called about the jaundice and we began treatment, but she had chills and shakes for a while, which kept her awake until they settled in the early hours.’
Tasha looked back at her. She looked so small in the hospital bed. Too tiny to be fighting a major disease such as this one. ‘Alone...?’
‘I stayed with her. She was never alone.’
Oh. That was kind of him. She smiled her thanks.
‘She’s getting the best treatment. We just have to give it time to work.’
‘I know.’
She knew all about time and how important that was. She needed to be patient, but she wasn’t very good at that any more.
‘I feel so helpless. I read last night that the treatment for the falciparum parasite should be different according to geographical location. Are you sure she’s on the right medicine?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘She has complicated malaria, though. Jaundice, anaemia, impaired consciousness...’
‘She’s okay.’
‘But she’s not okay! What made you choose the chloroquine and ACTs? She’s under eight—she could have had the quinine-based regimen or clindamycin.’
He frowned. ‘Hey, don’t do this. You’ll drive yourself insane. I appreciate that you care, and you’re worried, but you have to trust me as a doctor as well as a man.’
But her faith in medicine had been weakened.
‘I can’t just sit here. Watching her. Waiting for her to die.’
He blinked. Stared back at her. ‘She’s not there yet. You need to find hope. Like the rest of us.’
She sighed. ‘How do you do that?’
‘You dig deep inside. You find the strength. You think you’ve got it tough? Well, it’s harder for the patients. And they need you to be there for them. To hold their hand and tell them it’s okay.’
She heard something in his voice. A little hitch. He’d been through something. Lost someone close. She could tell.
‘How do you know so much?’ She appreciated that he was a doctor, and doctors saw death all the time, but this was different. Personal.
‘I just do. I wish I didn’t, but...’
She laid her hand upon his arm, empathising with his pain. He looked so forlorn, so haunted by whatever the memory was. He’d been through something terrible. Perhaps he did know what he was talking about?
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘For whoever you lost.’
‘It was a long time ago. Besides, you haven’t lost anyone yet. We’re nowhere near that. There’s still hope. And time. You have to give the medicines time to work.’
Tasha let out a heavy sigh and turned back to look at her small charge, all the way across the room. ‘Okay. You’re right. Again.’
‘And next time you feel the urge to consult Dr Internet, perhaps you might like to consult with me first?’
She crossed her heart. ‘I promise.’
‘Good.’
* * *
He was glad to go into surgery to assist in the removal of the goitre. He needed that intensity of concentration, the focus that only surgery could bring, after that moment with Tasha earlier on.
He’d had to reassure her, but he’d been worried, too. There’d been tears forming in her eyes and he hadn’t wanted to see her cry. Not because crying women made him uncomfortable—he just didn’t want to see Tasha cry.
He cared about her. Especially now that he’d been given a second chance to put things right in her life. And seeing her upset had upset him, too. It had felt as if it was his fault. That somehow he needed to put things right.
Having her stand before him with tears in her eyes and her bottom lip trembling had been like a flashback to all those years ago.
He couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t.
Now he had to think. Had to concentrate on the surgery. Make sure that he and his colleague both safely avoided the two laryngeal nerves which affected the vocal cords as they removed this goitre. They didn’t want to paralyse this man’s voice or his ability to breathe.
He’d felt paralysed. Briefly. Seeing her standing there, almost in tears. The surge of desire to make everything better for Tasha had startled him, and had made him realise just how much Tasha was beginning to mean to him already.
And that worried him. It had only been a few years since he had lost his wife and child. Was he having feelings he shouldn’t have for another woman already?
Or was Tasha just a friend? As he kept telling himself she was.
This is all so complicated!
How many of his feelings were tied up in the past? His past with Tasha? Was it because he felt he owed her a debt? That he had to put things right? Or was this something different?
He felt her pull. She was a very beautiful woman. He’d done a double-take the first time she’d run onto his ward, then he’d spent hours staring at her face during that night in the tent in Mosa and wondered what it might be like to kiss her. The time they’d spent together since had been wonderful. Warm and refreshing. He looked forward to seeing her every day. Wanted to spend even more time with her. Wanted to be with her.
Guilt. That’s what I’m feeling. Guilt that I might be moving on.
But it didn’t mean he would forget Hannah, or his son. Of course he wouldn’t. But was he ready for such a relationship? Was he reading too much into this in the first place?
He was sure Tasha felt something for him, too. They were both just afraid. Afraid to put themselves out there and commit to it. Held back by fear.
He didn’t want their relationship to be complicated, even if it was just as friends. He wanted—needed—this to be easy. Light. Enjoyable.
Quinn would never forget his wife and child, but if he wanted Tasha to be more open with him then he had to find the strength he had inside to let her know that she would be safe with him.
But she was so concerned about Abeje. So worried about her. Clearly she loved the child, and it was even clearer that they wouldn’t stand a chance together unless Abeje lived.
He had to make her live.
He couldn’t lose her.
Because if he did then he’d lose Tasha Kincaid as well.
* * *
Tasha spent the next couple of days teaching all day and going to visit Abeje in the evenings. The little girl looked so frail and small in her bed, her breathing sometimes ragged, sometimes not. She’d taken along the book of letters that the class had made and she spent each evening reading them out, convinced that even if Abeje wasn’t conscious she would still absorb the positivity of the words, the good intentions, and that somehow they would help power her through this difficult battle.
Quinn often stopped by to speak to her, to update her on Abeje’s condition and progress. He told her everything he could and she appreciated it that he didn’t shield her from anything that might be construed as negative. He was open and forthcoming. Keen to make her understand his medical decisions and treatments, which she also appreciated.
When the end of that first week drew near, and the weekend stretched out ahead of them, he asked her if she’d like to go with him on a second trip to Mosa to check on the villagers and make sure that no one else had got sick.
She really wanted to go, but she glanced at Abeje in the bed. ‘What about her? I don’t like leaving her.’
‘She’s stable. We’ll only be gone for the day. No overnight stay in a tent.’
‘Are you t
aking the other two children back?’
‘They’re not ready yet. They’re still sick.’
‘Oh...’ She wasn’t sure if she really needed to go. What could she do? She wasn’t a doctor here, or a nurse. And she’d only gone on that first trip because she knew Abeje’s aunt. But then she thought about how nice it might be to get out of Ntembe and spend some more time with Quinn.
It had been nice that time they’d gone out for dinner, and she was enjoying their little chats each night, but he was always busy in the clinic and they didn’t get to talk as much as she would have liked. Spending the day with him travelling to Mosa would be an opportunity to get to know him more.
She smiled. ‘Okay. I will.’
‘That’s great!’ He seemed really pleased. ‘Maria and Rob will come too. I think it’s important that the villagers see the same faces.’
The next day arrived quickly, and Tasha arrived portside to join the others in the truck to Mosa. She got into the back of the truck with Quinn, as they’d offered to let Maria and Rob have the comfy seats this time. There was some equipment on the floor of the truck, along with boxes of tests and medications just in case, but Quinn was hopeful they wouldn’t need any of it.
He banged his hand a couple of times on the back of the truck to indicate to Rob, who was driving, that they were ready to go, and the truck began to pull away from the dock.
It was weird, at first, being in the back of the truck with Quinn. They only had each other to look at. That or the road behind them, covered as they were by a khaki-green material hood.
He kept looking at her and smiling.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking at you.’
She felt her cheeks heat with colour. ‘Why?’
She still felt it. The disbelief that he might be interested in her. That Quinn Shapiro would look at her with any interest that wasn’t full of ridicule. Her young girl insecurities were still there, trying to hold her back.
‘I’m just trying to decide if you’d agree to come out on a date with me.’
A date? Her heart raced at the idea. Thrilled that he’d suggested it, but also wary, she was unable to meet his gaze as her mind raced over possible outcomes at a mile a minute.
This man hurt you once! Don’t you forget that!
Yes, he had, but that had been so long ago. They’d been children! A part of her really wanted to say yes...but what he had done before hadn’t just hurt her for a short while. It had devastated her. Floored her for weeks, months.
She’d made a lot of her life choices because of this man. Choosing to become a doctor because she’d wanted the same things as him. Choosing to be like him because if she couldn’t go out with him then she’d at least be experiencing the same world and hopes and dreams.
She couldn’t just forget all that. It was such a huge part of her childhood. And choosing to be a doctor had led to one of the most disturbing episodes of her life—one that had overshadowed the humiliation he had put her through. She had questioned who she was. Whether she needed to be punished. She had had to change her entire life.
Besides, what if she did give in to his suggestion and it all went wrong and they ruined this friendship they were building? What if they had a great big falling-out and he devastated her again? And what was the point in dating him when he was going to leave in three weeks’ time?
I’m always being left behind.
Her parents, Quinn, Simon.
She wanted to say yes, she would go on a date with him. She wanted to with all her heart. But they had a timeline working against them.
‘Is that such a good idea?’
He sighed. ‘I know...but don’t you feel it? Our connection? It’s more than just our history. I’m sure of it.’
The truck rattled them around as the tyres hit divots and potholes, but no matter how hard it shook them they still maintained eye contact.
‘I’d be a liar if I said no.’
‘So I’m not imagining it?’
Tasha smiled. ‘No. You’re not.’
‘You can call us crazy, if you want. I don’t mind. But I’d really like to spend more time with you, Tasha. Time that’s meant for you and me. For us.’
She wanted it. She dearly wanted it. But was it crazy to do such a thing? Reckless? He would leave in three weeks. She would be left behind. Again! He’d sail off to Madagascar and not come back for months. She was only contracted for four more months in Ntembe. She could be gone by the time the Serendipity sailed back into port.
She was so tempted. Something about this man pulled her in. She couldn’t help it any more than a moth could prevent itself from flying into the light. She knew it would probably all end in tears—mostly hers—but she still felt she wanted to take that chance. Just to see what would happen between them.
She felt helpless. As if she had no strength to resist him.
I loved him so much once...
He’d broken her heart before. Could she get involved with him knowing it might happen again? Or perhaps knowing there was a time limit on the relationship would help her cope with it better? Make her grateful for the magic times they might have? Cherish the memories of three weeks?
This was her opportunity to see if her childhood wishes were a possibility! A chance to see if she and Quinn would work. She wasn’t a tearful thirteen-year-old any more. She was a grown woman, with life experience, and so far she’d survived all that life had thrown at her.
Why not this?
Why not have fun?
She’d survive again, wouldn’t she...?
‘No.’
His hopeful face dropped. ‘No?’
She nodded. ‘I want to... I do. It’s just...’
He frowned. ‘Just what?’
‘Just that I think it’s best we see each other as friends. Go out as friends and nothing more. There’s too much water under the bridge.’
He looked disappointed. He leant forward, his elbows on his knees, and stared out through the back of the truck.
Tasha watched him, feeling terrible but knowing she had done the right thing. The right thing to protect her heart.
* * *
The people of Mosa cheered to see them return. They wanted news on the two children who had been taken back to the ship, so Quinn filled them in on that. Then they gave the villagers a secondary check-up and no one else had succumbed to a bite from a mosquito, so it looked as if the villagers were in the clear.
Ada and some of the other women banded together and presented them with a meal of bobotie—spiced minced lamb with an egg topping.
And later, as Tasha was helping pack up the truck, Quinn came over to her and draped something around her neck. She stopped to look at it. It was a necklace, made with string and small pebbles that had been painted in bright rainbow colours. It was beautiful.
‘Oh! That’s gorgeous, thank you.’
She was surprised. After she’d turned him down in the truck he had barely said a word. So the fact that he had brought her something so beautiful made her see just how much he valued her despite her saying no.
‘Ada said that the people here give each other these necklaces as a sign of friendship. To show that they will always be friends, no matter what.’
She fingered the small stones. They were tiny. Such work must have gone into each one to bore a hole for the string and then paint them in the array of colours...
‘I love it, thank you.’ She looked up at him, smiling, glad that her refusal had not made everything awkward. And he stood in front of her, close, their bodies almost touching. He stared at her for a long moment and her pulse raced under his close scrutiny.
She gazed at his mouth. His lips. She looked back into his eyes. She’d once dreamed of that first kiss. What it would feel like. His lips touching hers.
He reached up to
tuck a stray curl behind her ear and she had to look away. Embarrassed and hot with the attention.
‘Are you two gonna help? Or stare into each other’s eyes all day?’ joked Rob, interrupting their moment as he dropped a crate of meds back into the truck.
Quinn smiled at her, and then stepped back to get out of Rob’s way. ‘We’ll help.’
She could breathe again!
She stepped back too, feeling her heart thudding, her pulse racing, her face burning with heat and desire.
These next three weeks are going to be intense.
* * *
Back in Ntembe, Tasha found she was living on her nerves. But in a good way. She looked forward to going to the ship to visit Abeje, knowing that Quinn would be there, too, exchanging glances and secret smiles with her. She might have agreed to just friendship, but it was a friendship unlike any she had ever experienced before.
There was heat between them. She felt it. She knew he did, too. But he was respecting her choice, which she was glad about—even if she did keep dreaming about being in his arms at night.
It was like being thirteen again. But this time Quinn’s reactions to her weren’t just in her imagination. They were real.
And then on one of her visits he asked if she would like to go out for dinner.
‘Just friends.’ He smiled.
She nodded, almost too shy to speak, her heart thudding away like a thousand stampeding wildebeests. Dinner with Quinn would be very nice. And probably safe, too. Her on one side of a table, him on the other. Good food. Maybe some wine. Conversation. Moonlight.
He turned up at her door dressed in casual dark trousers and a white shirt that showed his tan to perfection. In his hand was a small posy of flowers. Where he’d got them from, she had no idea, but they were very beautiful.
‘Are they wild flowers?’
He nodded, smiling.
‘How did you get them?’ She lifted them to her nose to inhale their scent—sweet and fragrant.
‘You’d be amazed at what you can buy at a busy port.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sure.’