Sarah Morgan - The Rebel Doctor's Bride

‘Kate Graham recognised you, then? I seem to recall that you were stark naked the last time she saw you.’

The devil was back in Conner’s eyes. ‘Mrs Graham had extremely tall delphiniums in her border,’ he recalled. ‘She only saw my face.’

Logan laughed out loud. ‘You have no idea how pleased I am to see you. You’re looking good, Conner.’

‘I wish I could return the compliment.’ Conner’s dark brows drew together in a frown as he studied his cousin, taking in the faint shadows and the lines of strain. ‘You’ve looked better. Island life obviously doesn’t suit you. You need to leave this backwater and find yourself a proper job.’ But his tone was light because he knew that the medical care that his cousin delivered on this remote Scottish island was of exceptional quality.

‘There’s nothing wrong with island life, just the lack of medical staff. To run this place effectively we need two doctors and two nurses.’ Logan rubbed his fingers over his forehead. ‘It’s been tough since Kyla and Ethan left. I lost a doctor and a nurse in one blow.’

Conner thought about his cousin. ‘I never thought Kyla would leave this place.’

‘She married an Englishman with itchy feet.’

‘There’s treatment for that.’

‘Yeah.’ Logan grinned. ‘Anyway, it’s only temporary and I’ve replaced Kyla. Now you’re here, so we’re back on track.’

‘If I were you, I’d postpone the celebrations until the whole island gets wind of your little plan. The jungle drums will start beating soon.’

‘They’re already beating.’ Logan picked up his coffee-mug and then realised that it was empty and put it down again. ‘My phone has been ringing and you’ve only been on the island for twenty minutes. You certainly know how to make a lasting impression, Conner MacNeil. What exactly did you do on that ferry?’

‘Travelled on it. Apparently that was more than enough.’ Conner stretched his legs out in front of him and put his helmet down on the floor. ‘There’s going to be a rebellion. If looks could kill, I’d be in your mortuary right now, not your consulting room. The natives will probably return to their roots and take up arms to defend themselves from the unwelcome invader. They’re preparing themselves for rape and pillage.’

‘Ignore them. You know what the islanders are like.’ Logan reached for a pack of papers. ‘They don’t like change. Can you read this lot quickly and sign? Just a formality.’

‘And you know how much I love formality,’ Connor drawled softly, but he leaned forward to take the papers, grimacing when he saw the thickness of the documentation. ‘Life’s too short to wade through that much bureaucracy. What does it say? Conner MacNeil must not steal, destroy property or otherwise harass the citizens of Glenmore ?’

‘All that and the fact that all single women under the age of thirty are now considered to be in danger.’ Logan’s eyes gleamed as he handed his cousin a pen. ‘The men of the island are locking up their wives and daughters as we speak and Mrs Graham is probably shovelling fertiliser on her delphiniums to increase their height and preserve her modesty and yours. Sign the back page.’

‘Single women under the age of thirty? Why thirty? That doesn’t give me nearly enough scope. I’ve always preferred experience to innocence.’ Conner flipped straight to the back of the sheaf of papers and signed with a casual flourish.

Logan lifted an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t you going to bother to read what you just signed?’

‘I’m presuming it’s a load of rules and regulations.’

‘And knowing that, you’re prepared to sign? I thought you hated rules and regulations.’

‘I do, but I trust you and I admire what you’ve built here on Glenmore.’ Conner handed the papers back to Logan, a faint smile on his mouth. ‘I promise to do my best for your patients. I’m not promising that I won’t bend the rules a little if it proves to be necessary.’

Logan reached for an envelope. ‘I bend them all the time. It’s the only way to get things done. It’s good to have you here, Conner.’

‘I don’t think everyone is going to agree with you. Judging from the shock on the faces I’ve seen so far, you didn’t warn them in advance.’

‘Do I look stupid?’ Logan slipped the papers into the envelope and dropped it into the tray on his desk. ‘I was waiting until you showed up.’

‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’

‘Reliability isn’t your middle name. I wasn’t sure you’d actually do this when the time came.’

Connor gave a humourless laugh. ‘Then that makes two of us.’

‘But you did, so now I can break the happy news to the inhabitants of Glenmore. How have you been? Tell me, honestly.’ Logan hesitated. ‘It must have been hard…’

‘Coming back? Why would you say that?’ Conner was surprised to find that his voice sounded so harsh. ‘You know how much I love this place.’

Ignoring the sarcasm, Logan watched him steadily. ‘Actually, I was talking about leaving the army.’

The army?

Conner realised that since he’d stepped off the ferry, he’d given no thought to the life he’d just left. All he could think about was Glenmore and how it felt to be back. The bad memories poured into him like some dark, insidious disease, gradually taking possession of his mind. ‘Leaving the army isn’t my problem at the moment.’ he growled. ‘And, anyway, I don’t believe in living in the past when there’s a perfectly good future to be getting on with.’

‘Are you going to sell the house?’

‘You get straight to the point, don’t you?’ Conner rose to his feet and paced across the room, keeping his back to his cousin as he rode the pain. ‘Yes.’ He turned, his eyes fierce. ‘Why would I keep it?’

‘So that you have a place on Glenmore?’

‘If I’d wanted that,’ Conner said softly, ‘why would I be renting your barn?’

‘Good point.’ Logan gave him a sympathetic look. ‘This must be hard for you, I know.’

‘Nowhere near as hard as it’s going to be for the locals.’ Conner studied a picture on the wall. ‘They’re going to think that you’ve lost your mind, appointing me as the locum.’

‘They’d be less shocked if you told them the truth about what you’ve been doing since you stormed off Glenmore all those years ago.’

‘Island gossip has never interested me.’

‘You sound like Flora. Her clinics are taking twice as long as they should because she doesn’t like to interrupt people when they’re chatting.’

‘Flora?’

‘My practice nurse. She replaced Kyla.’

‘Flora Harris?’ Conner turned, the pain inside him under control. ‘Daughter of Ian Harris, our island solicitor? Niece of our esteemed headmistresses?’

Cloudy dark hair, soft brown eyes, an impossibly shy and awkward teenager, and as innocent as the dawn …

Logan’s eyes narrowed. ‘You didn’t ever…’

‘Fortunately for her, there were enough wild teenage girls on the island who were more than happy to experiment, without me having to corrupt the saintly Flora. Anyway, she didn’t take her nose out of a book for long enough to discover the existence of sex.’

‘She isn’t saintly. Just shy.’

‘Maybe. But definitely not the sort of girl who would skip classes in favour of a practical session on human reproduction.’ Conner rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. ‘I’m not surprised she’s a nurse. It would have been that or a librarian. Does she know I’m the new doctor?’

‘Not yet.’

‘She won’t approve.’

‘Even if she doesn’t, she would never say so. Flora is sweet, kind and incredibly civilised.’