The Honourable Army Doc (3 page)

‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’

Her response surprised him. He realised he’d expected her to ask him about the girls but instead her first response was one of empathy. He appreciated that curiosity wasn’t first and foremost in her mind. He took her empathy as a show of support. She didn’t find it strange that he would drop everything to care for his ex-wife and he had a feeling she would have been disappointed in him if he hadn’t.

Ali wanted to comfort him and she was almost tempted to reach for him before she realised that might be inappropriate. No matter how she imagined him, no matter that seeing him again made her pulse race and a bubble of excitement build inside her, the fact of the matter was they were strangers. He probably didn’t need or want her comfort.

Her own problems shrank in comparison to Quinn’s. Her own disappointment about the recent events in her own life she could, and would, overcome with time, but Quinn wasn’t going to get a happy ending to his tale and neither were his children. He had two daughters, girls who would be left without a mother, maybe not immediately but in the not-too-distant future. Ali knew how unfair life could seem at times and her heart went out to Quinn’s daughters. How would they cope with losing a parent at a young age? No matter what might have transpired between Quinn and his wife, no one deserved this.

‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’

She felt for him too. The situation must be a nightmare for him but she didn’t know him well enough to put her feelings into words. She needed time to process what he’d just told her, time to work out how to react appropriately. Shock and surprise were making it difficult to know what to say.

It was a shock to see him again. A shock too to find he was divorced and a father. Her imagination hadn’t pictured that scenario. In her dreams he was a dynamic, GI Joe type, athletic but intelligent. Daring but sensitive, and a bachelor. Most definitely a bachelor.

But some things hadn’t changed. She was still aware of a raw sexuality about him, a ruggedness, a hard, firm maleness, but there were also lines in the corners of his eyes that she didn’t remember seeing before. She wanted to reach out and smooth the lines away but she resisted the urge, sensing she would be overstepping the mark.

She searched frantically for something to say, something that would steer the conversation towards less emotional waters. ‘I still don’t understand why you want this job, though,’ she said. ‘Won’t you have enough to keep you busy?’

‘The girls are back at school now after the holidays. My mother-in-law and I will care for Julieanne in shifts and as long as I can be home when the girls are there I don’t need to be there all the time. I want to be busy. I need to be busy. I’m in Adelaide because people need me but Julieanne and I don’t need quality time together. Our marriage ended a long time ago and nothing is going to change that or change the situation.’

‘Yet you’re going to be her carer.’ The situation was unusual, to say the least.

‘Our marriage ended because of circumstances, bad timing and bad judgement, but we’ve stayed friends. We’re committed to our children. I can do this for Julieanne. I want to do it.’

It was obvious he still cared for his ex-wife. Did he still love her? Ali wondered. Not that it was any of her business but his reply confirmed her opinion of him as a strong and compassionate person and she suspected he was going to need every bit of that strength. She couldn’t think of too many other people she knew who would offer to care for an ex-partner. In contrast, she knew of many who would struggle to care for a current partner in the same situation.

‘Is Julieanne having treatment?’

Quinn nodded. ‘Radiotherapy.’

‘Is it working?’

He shrugged and his gesture reminded her of Atlas trying to balance the world on his shoulders. ‘The oncologists are not optimistic at this stage.’

‘What have they told you?’

‘That this could be her last Christmas.’

It was early August and Christmas was less than five months away. Quinn’s voice was heavy and Ali had a second overwhelming urge to try to ease his pain. But she resisted again. Six weeks ago they had shared a drink, half a drink really, and that was the extent of their acquaintance. Even if the excitement and interest she had felt had been mutual, she knew the goalposts had shifted since then. Quinn was now out of bounds. He
had enough going on in his life. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t offer to help in some way. It didn’t matter how much inner strength he had, he was going to need help and Ali resolved then that she would do whatever she could. Even if she didn’t yet know what that could be.

‘What do you think?’ Ali’s mother asked. ‘Did I make a good choice?’

It was several hours later and Ali was sharing lunch with her mother. She was still trying to come to terms with the idea that Quinn was suddenly in her life. After weeks of replaying their first conversation in her head, all ten minutes of it, to have him here, in her town, in her office, felt surreal and she had no idea how she was going to deal with it.

‘I have to admit his appointment took me by surprise,’ she replied. ‘I was expecting the job would go to a female doctor, someone with kids who wanted to work part time.’

Malika shrugged, a gesture that made the numerous gold bangles adorning her wrist chime. ‘Quinn is all of those things, just not female.’

Definitely not female
, Ali thought.

‘Besides,’ her mother continued, ‘it might be good to have a male doctor on staff. You have to admit we’re rather lacking in that department.’

Ali couldn’t disagree. Both receptionists were female, as was the practice nurse and the other part-time doctor. There wasn’t a male amongst them. It could be a very good appointment
if
Ali was convinced her
mother had found the right male. ‘Don’t you think he has enough on his plate, without working too?’

‘That’s his decision. Not mine,’ Malika said as she poured them both a cup of jasmine tea. ‘What reservations do you have?’

None she was prepared to voice, Ali thought. She just knew it would be difficult to keep her feelings in check but that was her problem and one she would deal with. She couldn’t admit she was nervous about working with him, worried about her ability to remain professional, but she had to think of something to say and she had to think of it quickly. ‘He told me he’s taken leave from the army so it doesn’t sound as if he plans to be here permanently.’

Malika nodded. ‘No, and that’s a shame. I was hoping the locum position might develop into something more permanent. But I can see why this job is attractive to him at the moment and I’m happy to have him. His experience is excellent, and I want to do this for him. He’s going through a tough time. If we can help each other then that’s a good thing. As long as he can cover for me while I go to that conference in Barcelona with your father, that’s the minimum commitment I need.’

‘Are you sure he’s the right fit for the practice? You don’t think he’ll be bored working here? You don’t think he’s a bit over-qualified?’ In her opinion an army medic was likely to find general practice work rather mundane.

But Malika wasn’t easily dissuaded, about Quinn or most other matters, and Ali should have known she was clutching at straws. ‘It’s only a short-term locum
position at this stage and I think he could use a break from the stress of the army and his overseas postings,’ her mother responded. ‘I think it will do him good to have some routine medicine. He’ll have enough stress at home and he might enjoy coming to work for a break.’

Ali couldn’t argue. The surgery was, after all, still her mother’s, the decision was Malika’s, and Ali knew, professionally, it was a good one. It looked like she would just have to get used to the idea of working with Quinn.

Ali dictated the last referral letter, pushed her chair back and stretched her arms over her head to get the knots out of her shoulders. It was time to go home. She was the last one at the surgery, it was dark and she was tired. She stood and collected her handbag and red coat from where they were hanging behind her door but a sudden noise made her pause. Someone was coming in the back door.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and the light from her room spilled out into the corridor like a beacon against the darkness of the rest of the clinic, highlighting her presence to whoever had just entered the building. Ali heard two footsteps, light, not heavy, and her heart missed a beat before lodging itself in her throat.

‘Hello?’ The footsteps were accompanied by a voice. Quinn’s voice. For a solidly built man he moved lightly.

Ali’s heart skipped another beat. Her fight-or-flight response was in top gear thanks to the adrenalin that was kicking around in her system, but now the adrenalin transformed into a flurry of excitement instead of fear.

She stepped out from behind her door.

‘Quinn, what are you doing here?’

He was casually dressed in old, soft jeans and a blue woollen jumper that made his eyes gleam as the light from her room shone on him. His jeans stretched firmly across the muscles in his thighs. His legs were muscular, powerful and very male. Ali blushed as her gaze swept across his groin. Very male. Quickly she averted her eyes and lifted them to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed her transgression.

‘I wanted to drop off a few things and get myself a bit organised before I start consulting tomorrow.’ In his arms he held a cardboard archive box. ‘Am I disturbing you? I didn’t think anyone else would be here.’

Ali shook her head. ‘No, I was just finishing up.’ She followed him into his room and watched as he dropped the box onto his desk. It sounded heavy. He’d made it look light. ‘Would you like some help?’ she asked as he began to empty the box. She’d trailed after him without thinking about what she was doing and only now did she realise he might not want company.

‘Sure. Do you want to find a spot to hang this?’ he asked as he handed her his framed medical degree.

There was an empty hook to the left of the window, above the desk, and Ali hung the frame there, right where patients would be able to see it. If he was bothering to unpack, did that mean he was thinking of this as more than a locum position?

When she turned back to Quinn he was still pulling certificates from the box. She looked at the certificates as he stacked them in an ever-increasing pile on
the desk. Trauma, underwater and hyperbaric medicine and chemical and biological defence followed his traditional medical qualifications. She had suspected he was over-qualified for the job but she hadn’t realised by how much.

‘You carry these around with you?’ she asked.

‘No.’ Quinn shook his head and grinned at her. ‘They’ve been gathering dust in Julieanne’s attic. The army moves people around so often it’s been easier to store stuff with her,’ he replied, as he picked up the pile of frames and put them on the floor, leaning them against the wall.

Ali wondered where he’d been but before she could ask she was distracted by a photograph of two girls that he was lifting from the box.

‘Are these your daughters?’ she asked as he set the picture on the desk. ‘They’re twins?’

Quinn nodded. The girls were identical from what she could see. With white-blonde hair and Quinn’s extraordinary blue eyes, there was no doubting who their father was, but they were older than she had expected. She knew they were at school but she’d imagined them as only just old enough. Judging from the photo, they’d been at school for a while. ‘You got an early start.’ She’d learned from her mother that Quinn was only thirtytwo. Six years older than she was.

Quinn ran his fingers along the top of the photo frame. ‘They caught us by surprise. They turned nine a few months ago.’

‘What are their names?’

‘Beth and Eliza.’

His voice was soft and Ali could hear the love as he spoke his daughters’ names and her heart ached with loneliness and loss. But she couldn’t stop to dwell on her own feelings right now. She couldn’t afford to be swamped by disappointment. She suppressed those feelings; she’d deal with them another time. She was getting quite adept at that. She knew she needed to address the issue, she couldn’t just continue to ignore it, she knew that wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t have the strength to do anything else. Not yet. So she continued to talk, keeping the focus on Quinn.

‘Pretty names,’ she said. ‘Which one is which?’

Quinn smiled. ‘It’s hard to tell in a photograph unless you know them, but Beth is the extrovert, she’s usually the first one to talk and she’s just cut her hair. Or, more correctly, Eliza has just cut Beth’s hair. Beth said she was tired of people not being able to tell them apart so she convinced Liza to chop it off. Of course, then they had to go to the hairdresser to fix it and Beth now has a bob, I think they call it.’

She looked again at the photograph. Even though they were older than she’d expected, they were still far too young to be going through this nightmare. ‘How are they coping with everything that’s going on?’

‘Better than I am, I think.’ He sounded sad.

‘You probably know more about Julieanne’s condition than is good for you,’ she told him. ‘Sometimes ignorance is bliss.’

‘It’s not Julieanne I’m struggling with. It’s parenting.’

Ali frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I haven’t spent much time with the girls. I was still
studying when they were born and then the army has kept me busy, then the divorce. Julieanne has been the constant in the girls’ lives so far and I’m on a pretty steep learning curve.’

‘You didn’t share custody?’

‘I couldn’t. The girls were here, I’ve been in Queensland or overseas.’

‘Peacekeeping missions?’ Ali knew that army medics would have to accompany soldiers on any mission.

‘Some.’

His answer was vague enough to arouse suspicion. ‘War zones?’

Her heart was racing at the thought of Quinn being in danger but he was grinning at her, his blue eyes sparkling as he replied. ‘That’s classified.’

‘What, you could tell me but then you’d have to silence me?’ She found herself smiling in return.

‘Something like that,’ he teased. ‘Let’s just say I’d much rather be here.’