Louisa George - The Nurse's Special Delivery

He was facing away from her, his back rigid. Shoulder muscles she hadn’t seen the other day due to his hi-vis were well defined...taut. He was wearing sports gear too—a loose-fitting singlet and shorts. Running?

‘Why the hell not? Well, you’d better start. Things are going to change when I get back. And how.’

He flicked his phone into his pocket and stood, staring out across the water, every sinew tense.

Now she didn’t know what to do. Run? Walk? Say something? Nothing? Turn around and go home? Was he going to come towards her, or race off in front?

But he bent for a moment, lifting his foot onto the bench and checking his laces. If he turned his head even the tiniest fraction he’d see her. She’d be caught watching him. So not a good idea.

He looked the other way, along the path.

Now was her chance. She ducked out from behind the trees and sped along the trail.

‘Race you!’ she called as she overtook him.

What the hell...? Where had that come from? Her mouth had a mind of its own—and it was a little out of control. Damned endorphins must have kicked in early today.

‘What?’ He jumped at her voice, did a double take. ‘Do I know—?’

‘Come on.’ Then, for some reason she didn’t understand, she turned around and jogged backwards, slowly, until he caught her up. She threw him a gauntlet. ‘Going to the bridge? I can give you a head start if you need it?’

‘Abbie?’ His gaze skimmed her body—for the first time ever she felt unbearably underdressed in full-length running tights and a razor-back top. And suddenly very hot. But then, she had been running. His amazing eyes met hers and he grinned. Not the faintest hint of breathlessness anywhere in him. ‘Well, wow. Unexpected. Hello.’

‘I can hang back, let you go ahead if you need to.’

The irritation she’d seen in him while on the phone disappeared and he laughed. ‘Not necessary. Challenge accepted.’

‘To the bridge?’

‘Seriously?’

There was a moment when she almost felt sorry for him. ‘You underestimate me at your peril.’

Then there was no more talking.

They were evenly matched...at least, at first. She met him stride for stride and only when the path narrowed did she fall behind a little. All the better to get another view of those amazing muscles. He was either a climber, or he worked out. No one had that kind of upper-body strength just by lifting gurneys.

But when he sensed her close behind him he pulled sharply to the right to let her join him again. The bridge was in sight. She let him think she was going to let the friendly camaraderie continue, then, with fifty metres to go, she sprinted out. Hard. Fast.

He got there at the same time. Laughing, reaching for the stone wall to tag. ‘Well, you’re fast, that’s for sure.’

She decided not to tell him her reasons for running these days. Some things should be kept private. Besides, she could barely manage words. She hauled gulp after gulp of air as she bent over, hands on knees. ‘Ran for...Otago. Back...in...the day. School...cross-country champion.’

‘What? Like, last year?’

‘Over ten years ago.’ She pulled up, hands on hips. ‘I know, I know, everyone always says I look young...but I’m as old as Methuselah really. Twenty-nine. Believe me... I’ve lived a little.’

‘Ach, the wild child of Queenstown?’

Hardly. She’d been married at twenty-three. Felt ancient at twenty-five when she’d unexpectedly hit most of the ageing milestones far too soon—a married woman and then a widow. Sadly, the family bit had passed her by. ‘Not quite. Let’s just say, it’s been an interesting ride.’

Without discussing where they were headed they started to walk back towards Queenstown centre. Yes, she could easily have run, but she didn’t want to tire the poor thing out. ‘And you? A wild child of...?’

‘Duncraggen.’ He tipped his head back and laughed. ‘The only thing that’s wild up there is the weather. Oh, and the sheep.’

‘Where’s that? Dun...crabbing?’

‘The very tip of Loch Lomond, a tiny wee village near Inverarnan. Not a lot about it, really.’

‘So Queenstown must be the big scary metropolis, then?’

‘I did live in Edinburgh for a while. And I have travelled a fair bit...in my youth.’ He made a creaking sound. ‘But now, young whippersnapper, I’m over the hill.’

‘Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself.’ Where was this coming from? It felt natural to joke with him. ‘You don’t look a day over seventy.’

‘Cheeky.’ He threw her a sideways look and she could see laughter in his eyes. It was so nice to see that. A man who didn’t take himself too seriously.

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