The Honourable Army Doc

She undid the buttons on her new winter coat, a scarlet, woollen swing coat that she’d bought to lift her spirits and help her get through the last weeks of cold weather. Her spirits needed lifting, she needed something to look forward to. She loved her job but lately it had lacked excitement. It had become routine. The last time she’d felt excited about anything had been in Brisbane. The night she’d met Quinn.

She sighed. Her life was a pretty sad state of affairs if a ten-minute conversation was the highlight of the past few months. But there was no denying she’d enjoyed it and no denying she had spent far too much time thinking about him. Wondering why he hadn’t come back. Wondering what had happened to him.

Despite telling herself she no longer believed in fate, she hadn’t been able to shake off the idea that they had been destined to meet. But even she wasn’t delusional enough not to realise she was romanticising things. Quinn had probably had no intention of coming back, he’d probably thought she was dull and ordinary and had been desperate for an escape, whereas she’d thought he was interesting and charismatic.

She’d spent so much time thinking about him that on occasions since getting home her subconscious had tricked her into thinking she’d caught fleeting glimpses of him. But of course it was just her imagination working overtime because when she’d look a second time she would see it was just another solidly built man with cropped blond hair or that the person had disappeared from view completely.

Imagined sightings, unfinished conversations and scant memories were all she had.

She knew she wanted to find love but she was sensible enough to realise it wasn’t going to be Quinn Daniels who would sweep her off her feet. No matter how much she wished it. Daydreams weren’t going to change anything, she thought as she shrugged out of her coat. It was time to move on.

She glanced around the waiting room. There were a couple of patients sitting quietly but no one she recognised. She wasn’t actually due at the clinic for another hour as she’d finished her nursing-home visits earlier than expected so she assumed they weren’t waiting for her.

‘Ali, there you are.’ The receptionist’s chirpy voice greeted her as she emerged from the back of the clinic. It sounded as though Tracey had been waiting for her but Ali couldn’t imagine why as she was well ahead of schedule. ‘Your mum wants to see you as soon as you get in,’ Tracey added.

The medical practice had been started by Ali’s mum when Ali and her brother had still been in nappies. The building that was now the surgery had been their family home but as the practice had expanded their family had moved into a bigger house nearby and the clinic had taken over the building. Ali had spent many hours in the practice, playing in her younger years and helping out with various odd jobs as she’d got older, and she’d always known she wanted to work there one day. Her mum had shown her it was possible to balance a career and a family successfully and that had been Ali’s dream too. Until recently.

Until recently Ali had been quite content working as a GP. She enjoyed knowing her patients and being a part of their lives and the community. But until recently she hadn’t ever expected that she might never have more than this. She was twenty-six years old and at a crossroads in her life. She was restless. Her future lacked direction and excitement and she was at a loss as to how to remedy this.

‘Do you know why?’ Ali asked.

‘She wants to introduce you to the locum. He’s in with her now.’

‘He?’ The locum position was a part-time one, to cover for Ali’s mother who was accompanying her husband to an overseas conference followed by a short holiday. Ali knew her mother was hoping that if things worked out she could then persuade the locum to stay on, allowing her to reduce her working hours further. Ali had assumed, incorrectly apparently, that the job would go to a female doctor as part-time hours were highly sort after by working mums, but perhaps the new doctor was also nearing retirement age, like her own mother. ‘Is he old?’

Tracey grinned and Deb, the practice nurse, laughed. ‘Not by our standards,’ she said, ‘but every minute you stand out here he’ll be another minute older. If I were you I’d be hustling in there.’

Ali gave a quick glance over her shoulder at Tracey and Deb as she headed for her mother’s consulting room. They were giggling like a pair of schoolgirls. She frowned, wondering what on earth had got into the two of them.

She knocked and opened her mother’s door. The physique of the man in front of her was instantly recognisable and he was far from old. Her heart leapt in her chest.

Tall, solid and muscular, he stood lightly balanced on the balls of his feet. His hair was longer, not so closely cropped, and the blond was touched with flecks of grey that she was certain hadn’t been there six weeks ago. He looked a little leaner and a little older but when he turned to face her she saw that his eyes were unchanged. They were the exact same extraordinary, intense, backlit, azure blue.

His name slipped from her tongue. ‘Quinn?’

He stared at her. Did he remember her?

Her heart was in her throat, making it impossible to breathe. She had dreamt of meeting him again but in her dreams there had been no hesitation. In her dreams he hadn’t forgotten her.

‘Ali?’

She exhaled. ‘You’re the new doctor?’

He nodded.

‘You two know each other?’ her mother asked.

Ali had barely noticed that her mother was in the room. She only had eyes for Quinn. She forced herself to turn her head and look at her mother. ‘We met at the conference in Brisbane,’ she explained.

‘Good.’ If her mother noticed Ali’s preoccupation, she gave no sign of it. She was already moving ahead, pressing on with the next issue. She very rarely stopped and today seemed to be no exception. ‘Alisha, I have patients waiting, can I leave you to show Quinn around the surgery and let him get settled into his consulting room? He starts with us tomorrow.’

Her mother didn’t wait for her to agree or to argue. She shook Quinn’s hand and hustled out the door to call her first patient, leaving Ali temporarily frozen to the spot and at a loss for words. Her brain was full of questions. There was no room in it for motor functions. Her body appeared to have shut down as she stood and feasted on the sight of Quinn and struggled with the questions that were racing through her head.

What was he doing here? What about the army? His proper job? What on earth would he want a part-time locum job in a small clinic for? Why had he left her at the bar? Why hadn’t he come back?

Quinn couldn’t believe his eyes. Ali was standing in front of him. Ali of the raven tresses, grey eyes and cherry-red lips. After the chaos of his last few weeks, to see her standing a few feet away was nothing short of amazing. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Astounded, perhaps. No, flabbergasted, that was a better word. He’d never had an occasion to use that word before but it was the perfect word for this situation.

He’d just been employed by Ali’s mother? The petite, colourful Indian woman was Ali’s mother?

That would at least partly explain Ali’s unusual colouring, Quinn thought as he absorbed the fact that she was here, in the flesh, in front of him. He’d suspected Spanish or maybe Mediterranean heritage but an Indian lineage made sense too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He couldn’t. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She was wearing a red silk shirt that exactly matched the colour of her lips. He hadn’t forgotten those lips. The colour had imprinted itself on his subconscious and had not faded in his memory over the past weeks. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to see the colour red without thinking of her.

She looked healthy and vibrant. Her olive skin glowed. It looked warm and soft, alive.

She hadn’t moved. He had no doubt she was equally as surprised as he was. He knew not all surprises were good ones but from where he was standing this surprise was all positive. He hoped she agreed.

Seeing her made him feel that applying for this position had been a good decision. For the first time in a month and a half he felt as though his life wasn’t completely out of control. He recalled the sense of calmness he’d felt on the night they’d first met. Now, more than ever, he could use some peace and serenity.

He watched as her frown deepened. He could see the questions in her grey eyes.

‘I don’t understand. What are you doing here?’ Her soft, sultry voice caressed his senses. He wanted to close his eyes and relax and let her voice wash some of his troubles away. ‘Aren’t you with the army?’

‘It’s a long story.’ And a complicated one. Quinn knew that, as surprised as Ali was to see him, his reasons for being here would surprise her even further. It wasn’t something he could explain in a couple of sentences. He needed time and no interruptions. ‘Can we go somewhere else? Your mother will want her room; I’ll explain but not in here.’

She nodded and led him into the corridor and across the hall. He followed and his eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips, which made the hem of her black skirt kick up, exposing the tops of a pair of long black boots. Even though he couldn’t see her legs he could remember the shape of her calves, the narrowness of her ankles, and he felt the unfamiliar kick in his stomach that he knew was desire.

Ali opened the third door on the opposite side of the building and turned to face him. He made himself focus, dragging his attention from her backside as she spoke to him.

‘This is the spare consulting room. It will be yours while you’re here.’

She sounded far from convinced and he couldn’t blame her. It was an odd situation to find themselves in and it was obvious neither of them quite knew how to handle it. But he’d have to do his best to explain his circumstances.

By silent consent he took the chair in front of the desk. The desk was positioned in front of the window and he was vaguely aware of a view onto a side garden but he was having difficulty dragging his gaze from Ali. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that spilled over one shoulder and she sat in the chair beside the desk and crossed her ankles, tucking her feet under the chair. She was sitting very upright, her posture as perfect as the night he’d met her, but he sensed that now it was more of a conscious effort. Her shoulders seemed tense, as though she was holding herself together, keeping up appearances, and he wondered what it was about the situation that was making her nervous.

‘What are you doing here?’ Ali repeated her earlier question. ‘Have you left the army?’

He shook his head. ‘Not exactly. I’ve taken leave, carer’s leave.’

‘Carer’s leave?’ she parroted. ‘Who for?’

‘My wife,’ he replied.

‘You’re married?’ He saw her glance at his ring finger. It was bare. Just as it had always been.

‘Ex-wife,’ he corrected quickly. ‘We’re divorced.’ Their marriage had hardly been a textbook one but even now he struggled with the ‘ex’ part. Not because he still wanted to be married but because it was a reminder of his failings as a husband. For someone who was, by nature, a perfectionist, it bothered him that he hadn’t been able to keep a marriage together.

Ali was frowning again. ‘You’re caring for your ex-wife? Why?’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘I’m sure it is.’ She smiled, inviting him to tell her more. But telling her more would wipe the smile from her face. He had no doubt about that. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the one to make her smile disappear. If Ali was smiling he could pretend that things were fine with the world.

‘You’re not doing a very good job of explaining why you’re here.’ Ali spoke into the silence that stretched between them.

Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his thumb and forefinger out along each eyebrow, trying to ease the tension he could feel through his forehead as he summoned the strength to tell her what she was waiting to hear. He was yet to find an easy way to deliver this sentence. ‘My wife, ex-wife,’ he corrected himself again, ‘has a brain tumour.’

He was relieved when she didn’t gasp or hesitate or stammer something inane, like most people did. Being a doctor, she grasped the situation better than most. ‘What grade?’ she asked. Her question was matter-of-fact. There was no room for emotion, just the facts.

‘A GBM IV.’ He could see by Ali’s expression that she understood the poor prognosis. Her olive skin paled slightly. Ali didn’t know Julieanne, she didn’t owe her any sympathy, but Quinn could see that she felt for her. Astrocytomas were the most common primary brain tumour in adults but their characteristics and prognoses varied widely. Glioblastoma multiforme IV was a fast-spreading, highly malignant tumour. It was not the one you wanted to be diagnosed as having.

But Julieanne’s condition still didn’t completely explain his reasons for being there. ‘My mother-in-law has moved in with them,’ he continued, before Ali could ask more questions, ‘but she can’t manage to care for Julieanne and the children. I’m doing it for my kids. After all, they are my responsibility.’

‘Children?’

He’d forgotten Ali didn’t know about his daughters. Forgotten she knew virtually nothing at all about him. There was a part of him that felt as though he’d known her all his life. An idea in his head that they’d shared more than just a brief conversation many weeks ago. He nodded. ‘Two girls.’

Her shoulders relaxed as she leaned forward in her chair, closing the distance between them, letting her guard down. She stretched a hand towards him, as though to touch him, before she thought better of it. Her hand dropped into her lap and Quinn’s heart dropped with it. The movement served to highlight to him how much he wanted to feel her touch. How badly he needed to be connected to another person. To Ali.

‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’

Her response surprised him. He realised he’d expected her to ask him about the girls but instead her first response was one of empathy. He appreciated that curiosity wasn’t first and foremost in her mind. He took her empathy as a show of support. She didn’t find it strange that he would drop everything to care for his ex-wife and he had a feeling she would have been disappointed in him if he hadn’t.

Ali wanted to comfort him and she was almost tempted to reach for him before she realised that might be inappropriate. No matter how she imagined him, no matter that seeing him again made her pulse race and a bubble of excitement build inside her, the fact of the matter was they were strangers. He probably didn’t need or want her comfort.

Her own problems shrank in comparison to Quinn’s. Her own disappointment about the recent events in her own life she could, and would, overcome with time, but Quinn wasn’t going to get a happy ending to his tale and neither were his children. He had two daughters, girls who would be left without a mother, maybe not immediately but in the not-too-distant future. Ali knew how unfair life could seem at times and her heart went out to Quinn’s daughters. How would they cope with losing a parent at a young age? No matter what might have transpired between Quinn and his wife, no one deserved this.

‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’

She felt for him too. The situation must be a nightmare for him but she didn’t know him well enough to put her feelings into words. She needed time to process what he’d just told her, time to work out how to react appropriately. Shock and surprise were making it difficult to know what to say.

It was a shock to see him again. A shock too to find he was divorced and a father. Her imagination hadn’t pictured that scenario. In her dreams he was a dynamic, GI Joe type, athletic but intelligent. Daring but sensitive, and a bachelor. Most definitely a bachelor.

But some things hadn’t changed. She was still aware of a raw sexuality about him, a ruggedness, a hard, firm maleness, but there were also lines in the corners of his eyes that she didn’t remember seeing before. She wanted to reach out and smooth the lines away but she resisted the urge, sensing she would be overstepping the mark.

She searched frantically for something to say, something that would steer the conversation towards less emotional waters. ‘I still don’t understand why you want this job, though,’ she said. ‘Won’t you have enough to keep you busy?’

‘The girls are back at school now after the holidays. My mother-in-law and I will care for Julieanne in shifts and as long as I can be home when the girls are there I don’t need to be there all the time. I want to be busy. I need to be busy. I’m in Adelaide because people need me but Julieanne and I don’t need quality time together. Our marriage ended a long time ago and nothing is going to change that or change the situation.’

‘Yet you’re going to be her carer.’ The situation was unusual, to say the least.

‘Our marriage ended because of circumstances, bad timing and bad judgement, but we’ve stayed friends. We’re committed to our children. I can do this for Julieanne. I want to do it.’

It was obvious he still cared for his ex-wife. Did he still love her? Ali wondered. Not that it was any of her business but his reply confirmed her opinion of him as a strong and compassionate person and she suspected he was going to need every bit of that strength. She couldn’t think of too many other people she knew who would offer to care for an ex-partner. In contrast, she knew of many who would struggle to care for a current partner in the same situation.

‘Is Julieanne having treatment?’

Quinn nodded. ‘Radiotherapy.’

‘Is it working?’

He shrugged and his gesture reminded her of Atlas trying to balance the world on his shoulders. ‘The oncologists are not optimistic at this stage.’

‘What have they told you?’

‘That this could be her last Christmas.’

It was early August and Christmas was less than five months away. Quinn’s voice was heavy and Ali had a second overwhelming urge to try to ease his pain. But she resisted again. Six weeks ago they had shared a drink, half a drink really, and that was the extent of their acquaintance. Even if the excitement and interest she had felt had been mutual, she knew the goalposts had shifted since then. Quinn was now out of bounds. He had enough going on in his life. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t offer to help in some way. It didn’t matter how much inner strength he had, he was going to need help and Ali resolved then that she would do whatever she could. Even if she didn’t yet know what that could be.

‘What do you think?’ Ali’s mother asked. ‘Did I make a good choice?’

It was several hours later and Ali was sharing lunch with her mother. She was still trying to come to terms with the idea that Quinn was suddenly in her life. After weeks of replaying their first conversation in her head, all ten minutes of it, to have him here, in her town, in her office, felt surreal and she had no idea how she was going to deal with it.

‘I have to admit his appointment took me by surprise,’ she replied. ‘I was expecting the job would go to a female doctor, someone with kids who wanted to work part time.’

Malika shrugged, a gesture that made the numerous gold bangles adorning her wrist chime. ‘Quinn is all of those things, just not female.’

Definitely not female, Ali thought.

‘Besides,’ her mother continued, ‘it might be good to have a male doctor on staff. You have to admit we’re rather lacking in that department.’

Ali couldn’t disagree. Both receptionists were female, as was the practice nurse and the other part-time doctor. There wasn’t a male amongst them. It could be a very good appointment if Ali was convinced her mother had found the right male. ‘Don’t you think he has enough on his plate, without working too?’

‘That’s his decision. Not mine,’ Malika said as she poured them both a cup of jasmine tea. ‘What reservations do you have?’

None she was prepared to voice, Ali thought. She just knew it would be difficult to keep her feelings in check but that was her problem and one she would deal with. She couldn’t admit she was nervous about working with him, worried about her ability to remain professional, but she had to think of something to say and she had to think of it quickly. ‘He told me he’s taken leave from the army so it doesn’t sound as if he plans to be here permanently.’

Malika nodded. ‘No, and that’s a shame. I was hoping the locum position might develop into something more permanent. But I can see why this job is attractive to him at the moment and I’m happy to have him. His experience is excellent, and I want to do this for him. He’s going through a tough time. If we can help each other then that’s a good thing. As long as he can cover for me while I go to that conference in Barcelona with your father, that’s the minimum commitment I need.’

‘Are you sure he’s the right fit for the practice? You don’t think he’ll be bored working here? You don’t think he’s a bit over-qualified?’ In her opinion an army medic was likely to find general practice work rather mundane.

But Malika wasn’t easily dissuaded, about Quinn or most other matters, and Ali should have known she was clutching at straws. ‘It’s only a short-term locum position at this stage and I think he could use a break from the stress of the army and his overseas postings,’ her mother responded. ‘I think it will do him good to have some routine medicine. He’ll have enough stress at home and he might enjoy coming to work for a break.’

Ali couldn’t argue. The surgery was, after all, still her mother’s, the decision was Malika’s, and Ali knew, professionally, it was a good one. It looked like she would just have to get used to the idea of working with Quinn.

Ali dictated the last referral letter, pushed her chair back and stretched her arms over her head to get the knots out of her shoulders. It was time to go home. She was the last one at the surgery, it was dark and she was tired. She stood and collected her handbag and red coat from where they were hanging behind her door but a sudden noise made her pause. Someone was coming in the back door.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and the light from her room spilled out into the corridor like a beacon against the darkness of the rest of the clinic, highlighting her presence to whoever had just entered the building. Ali heard two footsteps, light, not heavy, and her heart missed a beat before lodging itself in her throat.

‘Hello?’ The footsteps were accompanied by a voice. Quinn’s voice. For a solidly built man he moved lightly.

Ali’s heart skipped another beat. Her fight-or-flight response was in top gear thanks to the adrenalin that was kicking around in her system, but now the adrenalin transformed into a flurry of excitement instead of fear.

She stepped out from behind her door.

‘Quinn, what are you doing here?’

He was casually dressed in old, soft jeans and a blue woollen jumper that made his eyes gleam as the light from her room shone on him. His jeans stretched firmly across the muscles in his thighs. His legs were muscular, powerful and very male. Ali blushed as her gaze swept across his groin. Very male. Quickly she averted her eyes and lifted them to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed her transgression.

‘I wanted to drop off a few things and get myself a bit organised before I start consulting tomorrow.’ In his arms he held a cardboard archive box. ‘Am I disturbing you? I didn’t think anyone else would be here.’

Ali shook her head. ‘No, I was just finishing up.’ She followed him into his room and watched as he dropped the box onto his desk. It sounded heavy. He’d made it look light. ‘Would you like some help?’ she asked as he began to empty the box. She’d trailed after him without thinking about what she was doing and only now did she realise he might not want company.

‘Sure. Do you want to find a spot to hang this?’ he asked as he handed her his framed medical degree.