Single Father, Wife Needed Page 14

  ‘So what should I do?’

  Just smile, she wanted to say. That’s all it would take in her case. One smile and she’d be his for ever. ‘Give her one of your hot looks! I don’t know, you’re the expert,’ she mumbled. ‘If ever a man knew how to put the moves on a woman, it was you. There were more broken hearts in our school than in a coronary care unit.’

  He smiled at her analogy. ‘That was a long time ago. In my wild, reckless youth.’

  Despite the humour in his tone, she decided not to point out that he’d still been breaking hearts up to the day before he’d met Catherine, which had only been two years previously. ‘Well, I’m sure it’s like riding a bicycle,’ Evanna joked weakly. ‘Just get back out there. Go for it. There are no end of possible candidates. Loads of women who aren’t your patients. Polly in the pub. She’s very pretty. Or Mary Simon, who helps Meg in the café. Any woman would want to be asked out by you.’

  He didn’t release her hand. ‘Would they?’

  His thigh was pressed hard against hers.

  ‘Of course.’ His features seemed dark and unfamiliar and she swallowed hard. ‘What do you think?’

  It was a moment before he answered. ‘I think that sometimes when something is incredibly familiar, we don’t always notice it. We think something is a certain way and then suddenly we discover that we were entirely wrong. And that takes some adjustment.’

  He was talking in riddles. Her eyes slid to the empty bottle on the ground but it was a small bottle and there was only the one so it couldn’t be that. And, anyway, she hadn’t known Logan to drink to excess since that one occasion on the beach on his seventeenth birthday when she and Kyla had spent an entire night holding his head over a bowl while he’d been sick. ‘You think Polly and Mary don’t notice you? Because I can tell you now that they—’

  ‘I’m not talking about Polly or Mary.’ His gaze was steady on hers and her stomach performed a series of elaborate acrobatics.

  Determined not to read something into his words that wasn’t there, she kept her tone matter-of-fact. ‘Well, if you’re suggesting that people see you as a widower and not as a man, I don’t think that’s true, Logan. If you’re interested in someone then you should just go for it.’

  ‘You think so? You think I should go for it?’

  ‘Definitely.’ She ignored the new surge of misery that flooded through her veins. Here she was, advising the man she loved to go out and find another woman. But he deserved happiness and so did Kirsty. And he deserved a sex life. But it was impossible not to feel envious of the woman who was going to find herself burning up the sheets with Logan. ‘Find the right moment and go for it.’

  His eyes dropped to her mouth and for a wild, crazy moment she really thought he was going to kiss her. She even found herself leaning towards him.

  And then she remembered her promise to herself, snatched her hand from his and struggled out of the hammock, almost twisting her ankle and landing flat on her bottom in the process. ‘It isn’t easy to stand up from one of these with dignity,’ she said in a strangled voice, horrified to realise just how close she’d come to kissing him.

  ‘Evanna, you don’t have to—’

  ‘I should really be going,’ she said in a bright voice. ‘I mean, I just came to check up on you. And you should be going. Inside, I mean. Because you can’t go anywhere because you’re already here. Obviously.’ Nerves made her babble incoherently and she almost groaned as she listened to herself.

  What must he think of her?

  No wonder he didn’t find her sexy. She didn’t have the first clue about seducing men.

  Logan simply watched her, his handsome face unsmiling. ‘So that’s it? You’re leaving?’

  What did he expect? Did he want her to pull out a pad and pen and start drawing up a list of possible candidates for his sexual pleasure?

  ‘It’s late.’ She waved a hand in the vague direction of the gate. ‘I should be going, and you should be—’

  He scooped up the empty bottle and stood up in a smooth, athletic movement that was a complete contrast to her own tumbled exit from the hammock. ‘I should be getting back to the woman in my life. My daughter.’

  There was an awkward silence and Evanna chewed her lip, wishing that she was better at talking about sex. Kyla would have lain there and chatted quite comfortably about any topic of his choice, but she’d been gauche and stiff.

  ‘I haven’t helped much, have I?’ she mumbled, and for a long moment Logan didn’t answer.

  Then he gave a sigh. ‘You always help. Thanks for coming round, Evanna,’ he said gruffly, and she gave a helpless nod as she backed towards the garden gate.

  ‘You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t— I mean, I hope it works out the way you want,’ she muttered, and then gave up trying to say the right thing and just made for her car.

  Find the right moment.

  Find the right moment.

  Logan paced the floor of his bedroom, battling with a growing frustration. Hadn’t that been Evanna’s advice to him? But when exactly was the right moment to tell a woman that you wanted to strip her naked and have wild, abandoned sex with her?

  Evanna’s life was so tidy and neat. Everything planned. He’d seen the way that she’d blushed when he’d mentioned sex. How much deeper would that blush have been had she known that the woman he was interested in was her?

  Any other woman would have picked up his signals, but not Evanna.

  Evanna didn’t do wild love affairs and she never had.

  She was sweet and conservative and a bit shy. The sort of woman who blushed when she was caught coming out of the shower.

  And, as far as he was concerned, that just made her all the more appealing.

  They’d been sitting in the dark in his garden, talking about life. Talking about the future. Surely there would never be a better moment to tell a woman that you were interested in her, and yet had he spoken up? No. He’d lain there like a tongue-tied, hormonal teenager on a first date. Dropping hints. Skirting around the subject.

  Logan walked over to the window and stared out over the garden.

  He hadn’t really thought about sex for a year and suddenly he couldn’t think about anything else. But there was only one woman that interested him. And he had absolutely no idea how to go about telling her. And this lack of confidence with the female sex was an entirely new experience for him.

  Never in his life could he recall being anything less than confident with a woman. He’d seen. He’d wanted. He’d taken. It had all come so easily to him.

  But Evanna was different.

  He ran a hand over his face and sat back in his chair. There was so much more at stake than rejection and damage to his ego. If he got this wrong then a lifelong friendship would be damaged. Glenmore was a small, close-knit community. If it all went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to avoid each other. It could be hideously awkward.

  Was it really worth the risk?

  Given the choice of Evanna as a friend or Evanna out of his life, which would he choose?

  Without question, he’d rather keep her as a friend than lose her. Which meant that he now found himself in an extremely delicate situation.

  He’d just have to work harder at forgetting her, he promised himself, sprawling on the bed without any expectation of actually sleeping.

  Somehow, he’d get their relationship back to the place where it had always been.

  ‘I’ve got Jenny Price in Reception with Helen.’ Janet’s voice was crisp and efficient on the phone. ‘Can you fit her in?’

  Helen Price. ‘Well, that’s a bit spooky because I promised Ann Carne I’d take a look at her notes this week.’ Evanna ran through the conversation in her head. ‘Send them in, of course. Do you know what the problem is?’

  ‘No. But Jenny Price is very quiet. Shy. Keeps herself to herself. But she looks worried and there’s something about that child that doesn’t seem right to me.’

  Evanna tucked the phone b
etween her shoulder and her ear so that she could finish printing off the letter she was writing. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That child is small.’

  Evanna took the paper out of the printer and sighed, remembering Ann’s concerns. ‘She’s five years old, Janet. Little girls of five are often delicate.’

  ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

  Evanna smiled. ‘OK, I’ll take a look. If I’m worried, I’ll get Logan to examine her. Is he still around or has he gone out on calls?’ She’d successfully avoided him all week and buried herself in work, trying not to think that he might be out there seducing one incredibly lucky woman.

  ‘He’s just finishing his list.’

  ‘Send in Jenny and Helen whenever they’re ready.’ They appeared at her door only moments later.

  Jenny was a slender, nervous-looking woman with mousy hair caught up in a clip at the back of her head. She looked pale and harassed. ‘Nurse Duncan, I know I should have made an appointment, but—’

  ‘It really doesn’t matter at all, Mrs Price.’ Evanna interrupted her apology with a dismissive wave of her hand and a friendly smile. ‘We try to be quite informal on Glenmore if we can.’

  Jenny pulled a face. ‘Where I was living last you were lucky to be able to get an appointment within a fortnight.’

  ‘By which time you’re either dead or cured.’ Evanna smiled with understanding and brought up Helen’s notes on the computer. ‘How can we help you today?’

  Jenny hesitated and then glanced towards her daughter. ‘It isn’t anything specific. Well, I suppose it is in a way. I mean, she gets incredibly breathless when she runs around and that’s starting to worry me because a young girl of her age surely shouldn’t be that unfit.’

  ‘So she’s breathless. Anything else?’

  ‘Well, we had a terrible winter with chest infections.’ Jenny bit her lip. ‘I’m wondering whether it could be asthma. That’s why I came to see you because Miss Carne, the headmistress, told me that you and the other nurse see patients with asthma.’

  ‘Yes, we do, although in the first instance patients are diagnosed by one of the doctors. Then we usually do the follow-up and make any adjustments to medication.’

  Helen wandered over to Jenny and tugged at her sleeve. ‘Mummy, I’m thirsty.’ She was a small, pale girl with soft blonde hair and delicate features.

  Evanna watched her for a moment, remembering what both Ann and Janet had said. ‘I’ll fetch you a glass of water, Helen,’ she said gently, walking over to the brightly coloured paper cups she kept for children. ‘Can you just step on the scales for me?’

  She weighed Helen, recorded the result and then handed her a cup of chilled water. Then she questioned Jenny in more depth, asking her about Helen’s medical history.

  ‘She was a normal delivery. No problems. Since then she’s had chest infections. Every winter she starts. Nasty cough.’

  ‘Does she cough at night?’

  ‘Not in the summer. Only when she has an infection.’

  ‘And have you ever seen a doctor about her infections?’

  ‘Every winter we end up at the doctor’s but they just say that chest infections are normal in winter.’ She gave a shrug. ‘But I know there’s something wrong. When you’re a mother you have a sense about these things. An instinct.’

  Evanna glanced towards the little girl but she was playing happily with the basket of toys in the corner of the room, apparently oblivious to the conversation. ‘And you say that she’s out of breath the whole time.’

  ‘I’ve watched her playing with other kids. She’s different. She’s just so out of breath when she runs around,’ Jenny said quietly. ‘And it seems to be getting worse.’

  Could it be asthma? ‘Has she ever suffered from eczema?’ Evanna asked a series of questions and then stood up. ‘I’m going to see if one of our doctors is available to see her.’

  She lifted the phone and spoke to Janet who told her that Logan was with his last patient. She waited for his light to flash on and tapped on his door.

  ‘I wondered if you could see a patient for me.’ She was trying desperately to think of him as a doctor and not as a man. A man who was currently fantasising about some unknown but incredibly fortunate woman.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Helen Price. They moved into the Garrett property in the spring. She’s extremely breathless on exertion. Funnily enough, Ann Carne mentioned her to me. She wondered if she was asthmatic and the mother thinks that, too, but—’

  ‘But you don’t think so.’

  ‘Well, obviously you need to take a look at her but, no, I’m not sure about asthma. There’s no family history of atopy, no wheezing and no night cough. On the other hand, she is getting chest infections every winter.’ Evanna broke off and gave an apologetic smile. ‘Look, you’re the doctor. I just have a funny feeling about her.’

  ‘Then I’ll see her, of course. Send her in.’ His eyes lingered on hers. ‘Why don’t you stay while I examine her?’

  Evanna nodded. ‘I’ll do that. And I think we ought to invite Jenny, the mother, to the beach barbecue. Her husband works away a lot and I think she’s a bit lonely. Janet doesn’t think she’s really settled into island life.’

  ‘Invite her. Good idea.’

  ‘Are you going?’ She didn’t know what made her ask the question. He didn’t usually go. And she shouldn’t care whether he was going or not.

  He studied her face, his blue eyes speculative. ‘Probably.’

  And suddenly Evanna wished that she hadn’t asked the question. Of course he’d be going. Why hadn’t she thought of that? The beach barbecue would be the perfect opportunity to deepen his relationship with the woman he fancied. And that was good, she told herself firmly. Last year he hadn’t attended and she’d spent the entire evening worrying about him, alone in his beautiful big house with a six-month-old baby for company. She’d left early and taken him a plate of food and they’d sat in his garden, chatting about all sorts of things. Normal things. Things designed to distract him from the death of his wife.

  ‘I’m glad you’re going.’ She braced herself and smiled. ‘Everyone will be thrilled to see you there.’ She backed towards the door, wondering why he was studying her so intently. ‘I’ll just fetch Helen and her mother.’

  When she returned, Logan was thorough and professional, questioning Jenny in detail and then examining the little girl.

  Finally he unhooked the stethoscope from his ears and gave a brief smile as he handed Helen a colouring book and crayons. ‘Do you want to colour that for me, Helen? I just need to talk to your mum.’

  Helen grabbed the book with a delighted smile and a mumbled, ‘Thank you,’ and immediately lay on her stomach on the floor and started colouring.

  Logan sat back down at his desk. ‘Has anyone ever mentioned to you that she has a murmur?’

  ‘A murmur?’ Jenny stared at him. ‘You mean a heart murmur?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Logan’s voice was quiet as he tucked the stethoscope into his pocket. ‘When I’m using the stethoscope on her chest I’m listening to the sounds that her heart makes. A heart murmur is basically an extra sound.’

  ‘Are you telling me that you think she has something wrong with her heart? Oh, my gosh.’ Jenny’s face drained of colour and she lifted a hand to her mouth. ‘How can you possibly know that from just listening?’

  ‘I don’t know, for sure. And a number of young children would be found to have heart murmurs and yet have structurally normal hearts. But given her history of breathlessness and the fact that her weight is lower than average for her age, I’d like to refer her for some more tests. I think we do need to check this out further.’

  ‘I thought it was asthma,’ Jenny whispered. ‘She gets all these chest infections.’

  ‘Yes. I read that in her notes.’

  ‘No one ever mentioned her heart before. Are you saying that chest infections can be linked to heart disease?’ Jenny’s eyes were wide. ‘What
exactly do you think is wrong?’

  Logan hesitated. ‘It’s impossible for me to give a definitive diagnosis just by listening to her chest. I’d like you to go to the mainland and see the paediatric cardiologist. He’ll do an echo-cardiogram, which will allow him to look at the structure of the heart. He’ll also probably do a chest X-ray and an ECG, to see how the heart is working. All of that is non-invasive and won’t hurt Helen at all.’

  ‘I can’t believe this.’ Jenny ran a hand across her face and took several deep breaths. ‘I…’ She struggled with tears and Evanna reached across to borrow Logan’s phone.

  ‘Janet?’ She quickly spoke to the receptionist. ‘Can you come and take Helen and show her some interesting toys, please? It’s very boring in here for her and she’s finished the colouring Logan gave her.’

  Jenny shot her a grateful look and moments later Janet appeared, a wide smile on her motherly features. ‘You come with your Aunty Janet. I’ve all the plants to water and I really need some help,’ she said happily, holding out a hand to Helen, who scrambled to her feet and glanced towards her mother doubtfully.

  ‘You go, sweetie,’ Jenny breathed, her smile just a little forced. ‘Help Janet with the plants. Then Mummy will come and get you.’

  Helen slipped her hand into Janet’s and went without protest.

  Jenny reached into her bag for a tissue. ‘That was kind of you,’ she whispered, blowing her nose hard. ‘You try so hard to protect them, don’t you? And then something like this happens. I’m sorry to be a baby, but it’s such a shock.’

  ‘I can understand that.’ Logan’s voice was kind, his gaze sympathetic. ‘But I’d really like you to try not to worry until you know exactly what there is to worry about. That’s easier said than done, I know, because once you’re a parent all hope of being calm and rational goes out of the window.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  Logan gave a crooked smile. ‘Little girl. Thirteen months. So I know all about parental worry.’

  ‘Oh. Yes.’ Jenny blew her nose again. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘I’d like to ring a good friend of mine who is a paediatric cardiologist. He’ll arrange for you to have those tests that I described. Then you come back to me and we’ll talk.’