Bachelor Cure (6 page)

‘You're a farm girl?' There were things that needed doing, but still Bill lingered. Tessa was desperate to talk to someone and he let her talk.

‘No way. I was raised in the city, but maybe I'm a farm girl at heart. That was why I decided to go
into family medicine—so I could move to the country.'

He quirked an eyebrow.
‘Eat a lot of peaches?'

Tess grinned. ‘OK, so I'm an idealistic twit!'

He smiled. ‘Don't knock it. Idealistic twits are valued in this hospital.'

‘You mean, that's what Mike is?'

‘Hey, I didn't say that.'

‘No, but…' Tess hesitated. ‘Maybe you don't have to. Mike has a medical practice which must take all his time and more, but somehow he organised his work so he could spend a night searching for Grandpa. When we arrived back here last night, there were two more patients to be seen before he went to bed, and I don't have to ask why he was up so early this morning. He was paying now for his time off last night. He's some doctor. He has the most wonderful car and the craziest dog…'

‘Sounds like he's won a heart,' Bill said with a chuckle. Then, as a buzzer sounded down the hall, he grimaced and waved a hand in farewell. ‘Duty calls. I'll leave you to your plans, then, Dr Westcott, and I'll be very interested to know what they are.'

‘And so will I,' Tess muttered as the door closed behind him. ‘Because if you're making plans around Mike, then you're an airdreamer, Tess Westcott.'

And then she swerved to look down at the bed. Henry was stirring—and he was watching her.

‘An airdreamer…' Henry's voice was a slurred whisper, but it was enough. Tessa's face burst into joy, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

‘Oh, Grandpa…'

‘I thought you were a dream,' he whispered into her mass of hair. ‘My Tess. An airdream… Is that the same thing?'

‘Nope.' She lifted her head and looked at him, long and lovingly. ‘I'm real. I'm a hundred per cent accounted for. I was just making plans.'

‘Plans?'

‘Plans for me. Plans for you. And…' she took a deep breath ‘…plans for Mike Llewellyn.'

‘I see.' The ghost of a twisted smile played on Henry's face.

‘I bet you don't see at all.' She lifted her grandfather's gnarled old hand and rubbed it against her cheek. ‘I don't see things very clearly myself. I only see that you're alive. I have you back again.'

‘And you're here, girl. If you knew how much I'd wanted you…'

‘Oh, Grandpa.' Her voice broke with emotion. Then she caught herself and managed a glare. ‘Hey, haven't I always told you to be careful? What do you mean by taking yourself off to that cave to have a stroke?'

‘Is that what I've had?' The left side of Henry's mouth wasn't working properly. Each word was a twisted effort. ‘A stroke?'

‘Looks like it.' Tessa's voice softened and her hand gripped her grandfather's with love. ‘It's a mild one, but definitely a stroke.'

‘Yeah?'

‘Yeah. So, why the cave, Grandpa?'

‘I was feeling lousy,' he told her, his mouth forming each word with care. ‘I had a king-sized headache
I couldn't shake. I knew you were ringing Saturday night so I took the afternoon to visit the cave. Just in case…' He grimaced. ‘It was like…if it was something serious I could say goodbye.'

‘So if it was something serious you could lie for five days without medical help!'

‘Do you have to be bossy?' Henry's voice was a frail thread, and she chuckled.

‘Yeah. You know me, Grandpa.'

‘The original Miss Bossy-Boots.'

He fell silent, exhausted, and it was ten minutes before he spoke again. Mike had told her to ring him when Henry woke but Tess resisted. There was time enough in the future to let the world break in. For now she was content to be alone with Henry.

‘So what plans are you making for Mike Llewellyn?' he whispered at last, and she started.

‘Oh, nothing.'

‘Tell me.'

‘Well, it's just that Mike is overworked, overgenerous and over-endowed with niceness—plus, he has more than his fair share of good looks.' She twinkled. ‘And I need to stay here and look after you but I also need an income. So…'

‘So?'

‘So I might just have chosen myself a partner,' she said simply. ‘If he'll have me.'

‘And if he won't?'

‘Then we'll just have to think of a way to make him change his mind.'

B
Y TWO
that afternoon Mike was starting to get anxious that Henry hadn't woken. When he finished surgery he intended to go back to the hospital, but just as he was leaving the clinic there was an urgent call from Eileen Fraser. Reg Fraser was close to death.

Reg had terminal lung cancer. He'd been dying for months, cared for by three sisters of whom Eileen, at ninety, was the oldest. The Misses Fraser had taken care of Reg around the clock every since he'd become ill, and he couldn't have had better care anywhere.

Now it sounded as if the end was very, very close. Eileen was distraught. No, they didn't want Reg to be admitted to hospital, not now, but, yes, they needed help. For the first time since he'd become ill, Reg seemed distressed.

Mike had no choice. He packed his bag and headed for the Fraser farm, and this time he left Strop behind.

Reg wasn't distressed. He'd lapsed into a coma and started Cheyne-Stokes breathing. Mike reassured the elderly ladies that all this meant was that Reg was so deeply unconscious his breathing was almost a muscle spasm rather than the effect of a conscious message to the brain. He died half an hour after Mike arrived—a peaceful, settled death that was just how Mike had hoped it would be.

‘Oh, Reg…' Miss Eileen fluttered forward as her
brother's breathing finally ceased. The sisters kissed their brother in turn and then fetched the coverlet that, Mike gathered, they'd spent the last six months embroidering for just this occasion.

He couldn't leave. He spent the next two hours drinking tea and eating home-made biscuits while the sisters went through every aspect of Reg's illness with him, step by step. It was an important time for them if they were to come to terms with what had happened, and Mike couldn't begrudge it to them. The undertaker was booked to call later that evening. There was no hurry. No hurry at all…

Mike ended up looking through faded family photographs with the sisters commentating. ‘This is Reg on his first pony,' and ‘This is Reg on his first day at school' and ‘See how much taller Reg was than our father…'

By the time he could charitably leave it was five o'clock and evening surgery patients were already queuing. Still he couldn't return to visit Henry. He made a fast phone call to Bill back at the hospital.

‘Henry's awake and doing fine,' Bill told him. ‘Tessa's finally agreed to have some sleep. I'm going off duty now. If you like, I'll feed Strop for you before I go so there's no urgent reason why you should race back to the hospital.'

No. Mike had to agree—especially since Tessa was now asleep.

That was stupid, he told himself, but even so it made the hours spent seeing his evening surgery patients pass faster than if he'd thought Tess was sitting by Henry's side, waiting.

Was it his imagination, or were there more patients than normal? At eight o'clock Mike finally finished. He came out to find his receptionist replacing the telephone. She sighed as she saw him.

‘For heaven's sake, Mike, there're rumours flying all over the valley that there's a new doctor starting work. I've had more than ten patients ring to ask if they can have an appointment with the new doctor. When I say she's not working here they're disappointed, but then they can't admit they don't really need to see a doctor so they make a time to see you.' She gave an apologetic smile. ‘I'm sorry, Mike, but you'll have sore throats and pap smears all tomorrow morning.'

‘Great.' Mike groaned. ‘Just what I need.' And then he frowned. ‘Why the hell does everyone think we're getting a new doctor?'

‘Well, because of Tess, of course.'

‘Tess…?'

‘Don't act daft.' Maureen, his receptionist, was fifty years old and up to every trick in the book. There was no way patients could pull the wool over her eyes, and neither could Mike. ‘If you're not thinking of Tessa Westcott then there's something wrong with you. Every male nurse in the place…every orderly…the ambulance boys…they're all talking about her, and if any valley male hasn't seen her yet then they're busy trying to. Are you thinking of offering her a job?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘Maureen, Tess works in the States. She's a US
citizen. For heaven's sake, she won't even have Australian registration.'

‘Well, I could fix that in a flash,' Maureen told him. ‘Just say the word. You know we qualify as a remote district. If anyone's stupid enough to want to work here, and their medical diploma isn't paid for in Timbuctoo petrodollars, the medical board says thank you very much and welcome. And if Tess hasn't Australian citizenship I could fix that, too. Her dad's Australian.'

‘This is ridiculous,' Mike said flatly. ‘She doesn't want to come here to work. She's here to visit her grandfather. That's all. We're fine on our own.'

‘No, we're not fine,' Maureen said frankly. ‘Not now. When you first started here you could handle the work, but that was because most patients took themselves to the city for treatment. Now they know they can get hospital care and superb medical treatment right here so they're staying. More and more, they're staying. Which leaves you, Mike Llewellyn, working your socks off.'

‘Hard work doesn't hurt me.'

‘Not for the short term, maybe. But for the long term… You need some social life.'

‘I have a social life.'

‘Oh, yeah…' Maureen jeered gently and her motherly face creased into lecture mode. ‘You know you haven't had time to have one serious girlfriend since you returned to the valley, and at your age…'

‘Maureen, I don't need a girlfriend.'

‘Of course you do.' She smiled. ‘And, of course, you need another doctor. And here is this Tessa. I
haven't met her yet, but if Bill's report is anything to go on… Well, you may be able to kill two birds with one stone. Girlfriend and workmate all in one.'

‘Maureen…'

‘Yes?' She dimpled up at him.

‘Butt out.'

‘Yes, sir.' She put her hand up in a mock salute. ‘So I can't ring the medical board, then?'

‘No.'

‘Rats. And it's the weekend now, too. Still…' Her smile deepened. ‘I guess it can wait until Monday.'

‘It won't be happening on Monday.'

‘We'll see.' Her twinkle refused to be suppressed. ‘Bill says this Tessa's a very determined young lady. Like a bulldozer, he says. Oh, and by the way…' With difficulty she forced herself back to business.

‘Yes?'

‘Speaking of love life, there was a call for you from Liz Hayes. She's been trying to ring you all week.'

‘Liz.' He frowned, trying to concentrate on something other than Tessa. Liz was the local shire engineer. ‘What does Liz want?'

‘She wants you to take her to the shire ball tomorrow night.'

‘The ball…'

‘You need to go,' Barbara said patiently. ‘Everyone does. I put it in your diary a month ago.'

‘Yeah. Right.'

‘Liz knows you'll be there in name only,' Barbara told her. ‘She says she'll meet you there and your name will be beside hers on the supper table. It's the same table as the shire president. Oh, and she says if
you can squeeze in time for a couple of dances, she'd be grateful.'

Maureen sighed as she watched him think this through. The valley girls knew what to expect from Mike now. It gave them a certain amount of social cachet to be his date for the evening, but if a girl expected him to pick her up, she'd be two hours late every time—if he came at all. There was always a medical imperative. And even if he came, there was a risk of one lumbering basset-hound in the passenger seat.

But still they tried. He was a great dancing partner and if they were lucky enough for the phone to stay silent and for him to be dogless, there was the ride home in his gorgeous Aston Martin, and maybe a kiss…

But nothing more.

‘Yeah, you're right,' he said abstractedly. ‘The council supports the hospital so I need to go to the ball. Tell Liz it's fine. I'll meet her there.'

‘You wouldn't like to ring her and tell her yourself?' Maureen asked, but she asked as if it was a forlorn hope.

‘Why?' He frowned, lifting his list of house calls and leafing through the pile.

‘Because one of these days you won't want your secretary organising your love life,' she retorted.

‘Why would I change now?' He grinned and pocketed his list. ‘You do a fantastic job. My love life is entirely satisfactory, thanks to you, Maureen.' He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the top of the head, then took himself out to his Aston Martin, which—
apart from Strop—was the love of his life and the
only
love of his life. He had house calls to do.

 

It was ten that night before he returned to the hospital and he was starting to feel the strain. In fact, he was dead beat.

Strop was already asleep and not the least bit interested in asking how his day had gone.

‘Half your luck,' he told the dog, but Strop didn't stir.

He did a cursory ward round in the darkened hospital, checking obs and organising changes of treatment with night staff. He left Henry till last, as he wasn't worried. He'd been assured at each of his phone checks that Henry was going well.

He opened the ward door softly, and found Louise, one of the night nurses, sitting beside the bed. Until Henry's pulse settled to a strong beat—until the chest infection was under control and the fluids were completely restored—Mike had requested he be special-led.

But… He'd sort of hoped Tessa might be here.

She wasn't, and he had to swallow a lurch of disappointment.

Louise looked up in query as he entered. She smiled and handed him the obs chart.

‘Things are looking good here, Doctor,' she said primly. Louise was that sort of nurse. Primness was her forte. ‘Mr Westcott's awake.'

‘Are you, then, Henry?' Mike smiled and walked over to the bed. Henry's old face was gaunt and shrunken on the whiteness of the pillows but, in the
dim night light, Mike could see his old eyes looking up with sharp intelligence.

‘Mike…'

Mike gripped his hand and held on.

‘Welcome back to the land of the living, sir,' he said softly.

‘It was thanks to you…'

Henry's voice was amazingly strong, considering. Mike gave an inward sigh of relief. Hell, after all he'd gone through, the man must be as tough as old boots.

‘Your rescue was thanks to your granddaughter,' he told him. ‘Tessa's one determined lady.'

‘She is that. My Tess…' The old man closed his eyes for a long moment, and Mike thought he was drifting back to sleep, but the hand gripping his was still strong.

Tomorrow they'd run a few tests. They'd see then what the damage was. He wasn't moving his left arm, Mike noticed. Still, if the speech was only slightly affected…

‘Tess says she intends staying,' Henry said, and Mike shook himself. God, he was tired. If he didn't watch himself he'd be asleep before Henry.

‘Does she?'

‘She can't stay long term,' Henry whispered fretfully.

‘I guess she'll stay until you're back on your feet.'

‘Yeah, but…I've only got one foot.' Henry managed a twisted smile. ‘Can't feel the other.'

‘That'll come back. I promise you, Henry. You'll need physiotherapy but we'll get movement back.' If
Henry was speaking already, it was a safe enough promise.

‘But not tomorrow.'

‘No, sir,' Mike agreed gravely. ‘Not tomorrow.'

‘Tess says she's quit her job in the States.'

‘She told me that.'

‘Will you take her on here?'

Silence.

‘Mike?' Henry prodded.

‘This is all a bit sudden,' Mike said at last. ‘I think we need to talk about it, but not yet. There's time, sir, to be making decisions about the future when you're on the road to recovery.'

‘But I want to know now,' Henry fretted, and under Mike's hand his pulse rate went up. ‘I've been lying here thinking. I should have died in that damned cave. There's nothing left for me, and my body's failing. But if Tess came back…'

‘Tess has her own life in the States.'

‘She says she wants to stay,' Henry told him, and Louise cast an urgent look at Mike. The old man was getting agitated, and agitation was the last thing he needed.

He knew that, but to make such a promise just to calm him…

‘You'll check…' The old man's voice was failing him now. Each word was getting more and more slurred. ‘You'll check her training. I wouldn't ask you to have her if she wasn't any good, but…she's a good girl, my Tess. I ought to know. Will you check her credentials?'

‘I'll check,' he said heavily, and this time Louise's glance was curious. His reluctance must be obvious.

‘And if she's any good, you'll employ her?'

‘I'm making no promises,' Mike told him. ‘I'm not sure we need another doctor.'

‘Oh, Dr Llewellyn.' Louise could no longer keep silent. The nurse was practically agog. ‘Not need…? Oh, of course we need another doctor. If Dr Westcott would agree to work here…'

‘Just say you'll try,' Henry begged. ‘Mike… What do you say?'

He gripped Mike's hand hard, pleading—and there was nowhere left for Mike to go.

‘Very well, then,' he said at last. ‘If that's what Tessa wants—and she hasn't told me it is, by the way. But if that's what Tessa wants, then we'll try.'

 

Mike was starving.

He walked out of Henry's room with all sorts of emotions tumbling disjointedly around in his head, but hunger won out. The Misses Frasers' biscuits had been his only meal since breakfast. It was eleven at night now, and he really needed to go to sleep. He also really needed time to get his mind in order over Tess, but even more he needed a feed first.