Annie Claydon - Healed By The Single Dad Doc

‘It’s Saturday, and there are bound to be queues at the minor injuries clinic. If they’re too long I can take a look at your arm myself.’ He settled back into the driver’s seat.

No. Feeling safe with Ethan was one thing. Relying on him was something very different. And she had the perfect excuse.

‘I’m sure your partner won’t thank me for keeping you away for so long. Didn’t you say that you gave up working at weekends to spend more time with your family?’

‘With my son. My wife died eighteen months ago and it’s just me and Sam now—’ He broke off as Kate’s hand flew to her mouth.

‘Oh. I’m so sorry.’

He nodded, seeming almost as lost for words as she was. ‘It’s... I didn’t intend to be so blunt. I just can’t think of a more tactful way of saying it.’

Kate swallowed hard, suddenly wanting to take a large swig of the coffee he still held in his hand. A sugar rush would be good right now.

‘It’s up to you to say it however you want. What you and your son are comfortable with is what matters.’

Ethan smiled suddenly, nodding. ‘Sam’s the one who really matters.’

‘Of course. And I’m sure he wants you home on a Saturday morning, doesn’t he?’

‘Not this morning. I took him over to my parents when I knew I was coming down to the police station, and they’ve promised him a trip to the adventure park. I doubt he’ll appreciate me coming home too soon.’

It would be wiser to turn his offer down nicely and get out of the car. But Kate couldn’t do it, not now. She reached for the cardboard beaker in his hand.

‘Thank you. It’s very kind of you.’

He grinned, reaching for the ignition, and then thinking better of it and leaning back in his seat, taking a sip from his own drink. ‘My pleasure. Anyway, I’m intrigued to know whether you’re actually going to drink that.’

Kate peeled the plastic top from her beaker, squinting at her drink. ‘Why, what have you put in it?’

‘Only what you asked for—an extra shot of espresso, whipped cream and caramel. Just one sugar, this time. It sounds...interesting.’

‘Ah. So you’re a “don’t put flavours in my coffee” type, are you?’ His medium-sized cup, alongside her large one, indicated that he probably was. Kate took a sip from her beaker and rolled her eyes in an expression of defiant bliss.

Ethan chuckled and started the car.

* * *

It had been a relief to tell Kate where he stood. Letting her know that Sam was the single most important thing in his life now and hearing her obvious acceptance of that had cleared away his doubts and allowed him to concentrate on the matter at hand.

A and E was crowded and so was the minor injuries clinic. Kate seemed to be sticking close by his side, nursing her arm against her chest, and Ethan reckoned it must be really hurting her. He decided on a quieter place, away from the noise and activity, and steered her towards the lift.

‘This is your office?’ She looked around as he opened the door and ushered her inside. ‘It’s very tidy.’

‘I don’t spend much time in here. Not much chance to make a mess.’ Ethan wondered what Kate thought of the straight lines and utilitarian order. Her own surgery was neat and comfortable but one wall broke the pattern, an exuberant mass of photographs, obviously added piecemeal as and when people provided pictures of the animals she’d treated.

It was a sobering thought. Last night, her free spirit seemed to have been crushed under the weight of shock and distress. This morning, it was as if she was undergoing some internal struggle. He’d seen flashes of that delicious exuberance, but she was still frightened and bemused, still trying to cope by putting everything back in its proper place.

‘Is this your son Sam?’ She was looking at the framed photograph on his desk, tucked neatly behind the phone.

‘Yes, that’s him. He’s five now.’ The framed photograph was just over a year and a half old, the last one that Jenna had taken of him, and Ethan had stuck a more recent one of Sam in the corner of the frame.

‘He’s a beautiful little boy.’ She was studying both photographs carefully. ‘You must be very proud of him.’

‘Yes, I am. He’s got a great sense of humour, and he’s kind.’ Sam’s dark hair and eyes were like Jenna’s.

‘Does he want to be a doctor when he grows up? Like his Dad?’

‘No, he has bigger fish to fry. He wants to be a superhero and save the world.’

She gave a little laugh, putting the photograph back down again, tilting it carefully so that it was in the exact same place she’d found it. ‘That’s close enough to being a doctor, don’t you think?’

Saving the world wasn’t exactly Ethan’s thing; he confined himself to doing the best he could. The photo on his desk was a reminder of that. Sam was smiling at his mother. They’d been a happy family. Two weeks later, Ethan had left for work, too hurried to do anything other than take Jenna’s assurances that the urinary infection she had was a little better. That night he’d stayed at work and the following day Jenna had been taken into hospital. By that time, the sepsis had too tight a hold on her.

‘Let’s have a look at your arm, then.’ He turned his mind to things that were still possible to change, watching as Kate pulled her jacket off painfully.

She got tangled in the sweater as she pulled it over her head, and he leaned forward to help. As he pulled it off her arm, she caught her breath in pain.

‘That’s really hurting you.’

She nodded, as if making a shameful admission. ‘It does hurt a bit.’

‘Let me see, then.’ He gently rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. The arm was swollen from wrist to elbow, the skin bruised and inflamed.

‘And you didn’t notice this last night?’ Ethan couldn’t help the gentle reproach.

‘It hurt a bit then, too.’

And she’d pretended that it was nothing, the same as Jenna had. The thought clawed at his heart.

‘All right. I’m going to want an X-ray.’

‘It’s not broken.’

‘Let me be the judge of that. You’re in my surgery now.’

‘Okay, doctor.’

Ethan smiled. He wasn’t going to allow her to go until he was sure that she was physically all right, and it seemed that Kate was finally coming to accept that.

* * *

‘There’s no fracture, which is always good.’ Kate had craned over his shoulder while he reviewed the X-rays, and Ethan had been momentarily blinded by her scent. Now that she was back in her seat he could think more clearly. He paused for a moment to admire the fine structure of her bones, and then forced his mind back to the matter at hand.

‘You have some bruising there. He grabbed your arm?’ Ethan avoided the very obvious fact that the bruising was in the shape of a handprint.

‘Yes.’ Kate twisted her other hand around, trying to demonstrate, but her thumb was on the opposite side from the handprint. Slowly, shyly, she held her arm out towards him.

Ethan felt something block his throat. Gently, he laid his fingers on her arm over the bruises. ‘Like this?’

‘Yes. Just like that.’

Her gaze met his. An unspoken message that somehow tenderness might wipe away the violence. His hand, placed in the exact spot her attacker’s had been, might somehow heal her.

‘Well there’s some trauma, and it’ll be painful for a while, but with rest it should improve in the next week or so. The bruising will fade eventually.’ If he could have erased the bruises now, Ethan would have given almost anything to do so.

She nodded. Ethan wondered whether kissing it better would make any difference, the way he did with Sam’s bumps and scrapes, and decided that was way out of his medical remit.