Her Hot Highland Doc

Trust the people who’d known him from the first day he’d taken a breath on this bleak pile of rocks and earth not to believe in the medical clearance he’d received. A clearance he’d received just in time to be at his father’s bedside, where they’d been able to make their peace. That was where the first hit of reality had been drilled home. And then there had been the funeral. It was hard to shake off those memories just a fortnight on.

His brother—the stayer—had received the true warmth of the village. Deep embraces. Claps to the shoulder and shared laughter over a fond memory. Only a very few people had shaken hands with him. Everyone else...? Curt nods and a swift exit.

He blamed it on his time in Africa, but his heart told him different. No amount of time would bring back his mother from that sailing trip he’d insisted on taking. No amount of penance would give the island back its brightest rose.

He had thought of giving a talk in the village hall—about Africa, the medicine he’d practiced, the safety precautions he’d taken—but couldn’t bear the thought of standing there on his own, waiting for no one to show up, feeling more of an outsider than he had growing up here.

He shoved the old-fashioned key into the clinic’s thick wooden door and pushed the bottom right-hand corner with his foot, where it always stuck when the weather was more wet than cold.

The familiarity of it parted his lips in a grudging smile. He knew this building like the back of his hand. Had all but grown up in it. He’d listened to his first heartbeat here, under the watchful eye of his father. Just as he had done most of his firsts on the island. Beneath his father’s ever benevolent and watchful eye.

And now, like his father and his father before him, he was taking over the village practice in a place he knew well. Too well. He grimaced as the wind helped give the door a final nudge toward opening.

Without looking behind him he tried to shut it and met resistance. He pushed harder. The door pushed back.

“You’re certainly choosing an interesting way to welcome our new GP, Brodie.”

Ailsa was behind him, trying to keep the door open for herself and—yes, there she was...just behind Ailsa’s shoulder—Dr. Shea.

Dr. O’Shea?

Whatever. With the mood he was battling, he was afraid she’d need the luck of the Irish and all of...whatever other heritage it was that he was gleaning.

“Hi, there. I’m Kali.” She stepped out from behind Ailsa and put out a scraped hand.

He looked at it and frowned. Another reminder that he should’ve stuck around to help.

She retracted her hand and wiped it on her mud-stained coat.

“Sorry,” she apologized in a soft English accent. One with a lilt. Ireland? It wasn’t posh London. “I’m not really looking my best this morning.”

“No. Well...”

Brodie gave himself an eye roll. Was it too late to club himself in the forehead and just be done with it?

“Ach, Brodie McClellan! Will you let the poor girl inside so we can get something dry onto her and something hot inside of her?” Ailsa scolded. “Mrs. Glenn dropped some homemade biscuits in yesterday afternoon, when she was out with her dogs. See if you can dig those up while I try and find Dr. O’Shea a towel for all that lovely long hair of hers. And have a scrounge round for some dry clothes, will you?”

“Anything else I can do for you?” he called after the retreating figure, then remembered there was still another woman waiting. One not brave enough to shove past him as Ailsa had. “C’mon, then. Let’s get you out of this weather.”

* * *

Kali eyed Brodie warily as he stepped to the side with an actual smile, his arm sweeping along the hallway in the manner of a charming butler. Hey, presto! And...the White Knight was back in the room. Sort of. His blue eyes were still trained on the car park behind her, as if the trick had really been to make her disappear.

Kali quirked a curious eyebrow as she passed him. Not exactly Prince Charming, was he? But, my goodness me, he smells delicious. All sea-peaty and freshly baked bread. With butter. A bit of earthiness was in there, too. An islander. And she was on his turf.

She hid a smile as she envisioned herself helming a Viking invasion ship, a thick fur stole shifting across her shoulders as she pointed out to her crew that she saw land. A raven-haired Vikingess!

Unable to stop the vision, she mouthed, Land-ho! with a grin.

Oops! Her eyes flicked to Brodie’s. His gaze was still trained elsewhere. Probably just as well.

She looked down the long corridor. A raft of closed doors and not much of a clue as to what was behind them.

“Um...where should I be heading?”

“Down the hall and to your left. First door on your right once you turn. You’ll find Ailsa there in the supplies cupboard.”

Brodie closed the outside door and rubbed his hands together briskly, his body taut with energy, as if someone had just changed his batteries.

He had a lovely voice. All rich and rolling r’s and broguey. If he weren’t so cantankerous... She tilted her head to take another look. Solid jawline, arrestingly blue eyes bright with drive, thick hair a girl could be tempted to run her fingers through.

Yup! Brodie McClellan ticked a lot of boxes. He might be a grump, but he didn’t strike her as someone cruel. In fact he seemed rather genuine behind the abruptness.

She envied him that. A man who, in a split second, came across as true to himself. Honest. Even if that honesty was as scratchy as sandpaper. Her eyes slid down his arms to his hands. Long, capable fingers, none of which sported a ring. Huh... A lone wolf with no designs on joining a pack.

She shook her head, suddenly aware that the lone wolf was speaking to her, though his eyes were trained on his watch.

“So...you’ll want to get a move on. I’ll just put the kettle on and see you in a couple of minutes so I can talk you through everything, all right? Doors open soon.”

He turned into a nearby doorway without further ado. Seconds later Kali could hear a tap running and the familiar sound of a kettle being filled.

Note to self, she thought as her lips twitched into yet another smile, civilities are a bit different up here.

None of the normal How do you do? I’m Dr. fill-in-the-blank, welcome to our clinic. Here’s the tea, here’s the kettle, put your name on your lunch if you’re brave enough to use the staff refrigerator, and we hope you enjoy your time with us, blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Dr. Brodie McClellan’s greeting was the sort of brusque behavior she’d expect in an over-taxed big-city hospital. But here in itsy-bitsy Dunregan, when the clinic wasn’t even set to open for another...she glanced at her waterlogged watch...half hour or so... Perhaps he wasn’t too young to be eccentric. She was going to go with her original assessment. Too honest a human to bother with bog standard social niceties. Even though social niceties were...nice.

A clatter of mugs on a countertop broke the silence, followed by some baritone mutterings she couldn’t make out.

Well, so what if her new colleague wasn’t tuning up the marching band to trill her merrily into her first shift? She’d faced higher hurdles than winning over someone who had obviously flunked out of Charm Academy.

Kali leaned against the wall for a minute. Just to breathe. Realign her emotional bearings. She closed her eyes to see if she could picture the letter inviting her to come to Dunregan. She’d been so ridiculously happy when it had arrived. With so much time “at sea” it had been a moment of pure, unadulterated elation. When the image of the letter refused to come, she pulled her phone out of her pocket so she could pull it up from her emails.

The screen was cracked. Shattered, more like it.

Of course it is! shouted the voice in her head. It’s the least you deserve after what you’ve done. The trouble you’ve caused your mother. Your little sister.

She pressed her hands to her ears, as if that would help silence the voice she fought and fought to suppress on a daily basis.

She huffed a sigh across her lips and looked up to the ceiling. Way up, past the beams, the tiled roofing and the abundance of storm clouds was a beautiful blue sky. And this...? This rocky, discombobulated start was one of those things-could-only-get-better moments. It had to be. This was her shot at a completely fresh start. As far away from her father’s incandescent rage as she could be.

“Kali, are you—” Ailsa burst into the corridor. “Darlin’, did Brodie just leave you standing here in your wet clothes? For heaven’s sake. You would’ve thought the man had been raised by wolves!”

* * *

An eruption of colorful language burst forth from the kitchen as Kali eyed the long-sleeved T-shirt from a three-years-old charity run. That and a pair of men’s faded track pants were all Ailsa had managed to rustle up.

“Brodie’s,” Ailsa had informed her.

Her first instinct had been to refuse, but needs must and all that...

Kali stopped for a moment as the soft cotton slid past her nose and she inhaled a hint of washing powder and peat. A web of mixed feelings swept through her as the T-shirt slipped into place boyfriend-style. Over-sized and offering a hint of sexy and secure all at once. She shook her head at her dreamy-eyed reflection in the small driftwood-framed mirror.

It’s a shirt! Get over it.

“When are we going to get this blasted kettle fixed?”

Blimey. Had the walls just vibrated?

“Cool your jets, Brodie. For heaven’s sake, it’s not rocket science. You do know how to make a cup of tea, don’t you?”

Ailsa’s voice whooshed past the bathroom as she went on her way to the kitchen, her tone soothing as the clink and clatter of mugs and spoons filled out the rest of the mental image Kali was building.

“Stop your fussing, will you?” Brodie grumbled through the stone walls.

“Let me have a look,” Ailsa chided, much to Kali’s amusement. Then, after a moment, “I’ll need to get some dressing on that, Dr. McClellan.”

“Oh, it’s Dr. McClellan now I’m injured, is it?”

“Brodie. Dr. McClellan. You’re still the wee boy whose nappies I changed afore you jumped up on my knee, begging me to read you stories about faeries and cowboys over and over, so hush!”

Kali’s smile widened as the bickering continued.

Local Doctor Defied by Feisty Kettle:

Nurse Forced to Mollify GP with Bedtime Stories.

Was that the type of story the local newspaper would run? The population on Dunregan wasn’t much bigger than some two thousand or so people, and if memory served she was pretty sure that number accounted for the population surge over the summer months. The hospitable months.

“For heaven’s sake, Ailsa! Stop your mithering. I don’t need a bandage! It’s not really even a burn!”

“Well, that’s a fine way to treat your head nurse, who has twenty years experience on you, Brodie McClellan!”

Kali chalked one up to Ailsa.

“But it’s a perfectly normal way to treat my auntie who won’t leave well enough alone!”

Brodie’s grumpy riposte vibrated through the wall. Kali was relieved to hear Ailsa laugh at her nephew’s words, then jumped not a moment later when a door slammed farther along the corridor. Crikey. It was like being in a Scottish soap opera. And it was great! No-holds-barred bickering, banter and underneath it all a wealth of love. The stuff of dreams.

Her family had never had that sort of banter—Stop-stop-stop-stop-stop. Kali deftly trained her hair into a thick plait as she reminded herself she had no family. No one to bicker with, let alone rely on. Not anymore.

Turn it into a positive, Kali.

The other voice in her head—the kind one, the one that had brought her out of her darkest moments—came through like the pure notes of a flute.

There’s always a bright side.

Good. Focus on that. Turn it into a positive... Not having a family means I’m free! Unencumbered! Not a soul in the world to care about me!

The familiar gaping chasm of fear began to tickle at Kali’s every confidence.

Okay. Maybe a positive mantra was going to be elusive. For today. But she could do it. Eventually. And realistically there was only one mantra she really needed to focus on:

K.I.C.K.A.S.S. Keep It Compassionate, Kind and Supremely Simple.

It had kept her sane for the past five years and would continue to be her theme song.

She tightened the drawstring on the baggy pants and gave her shoulders a fortifying shake. Who knew? Maybe she could get someone with bagpipes to rustle up a tune!

The piper’s “K.I.C.K.A.S.S. Anthem.”

Hmm. It needed work.

Regardless, the rhythm of the words sang to her in their own way. They were her link to sanity.

She jumped as a door slammed again. Hearing no footsteps, she thought she might as well suck it up and see what was going on out there. No point hiding out in the toilet! In less than thirty minutes she’d be seeing a patient, and it would probably be a good idea to get the lie of the land.

Kali cracked the door open and stuck her head out—only to pull it right back in when Brodie unexpectedly stormed past. If he’d had a riding cloak and a doublet on he would have looked just like the handsome hero from a classic romance.

Handsome?

She was really going to have to stop seeing him in that way. Rude and curt was more like it. And maybe just a little bit sexy Viking.

He abruptly turned and screeched to a halt, one hand holding the other as if in prayer, his index fingers resting upon his lips. His awfully nice lips.

Stop it! You are not to get all mushy about your new boss. Your new, very grumpy boss. You’ve been down that road and had to leave everything behind. Never again.

She stood stock-still as Brodie’s eyes scanned her from top to toe. A little shudder shivered its way along her spine. His gaze felt surprisingly...intimate.

“That’s one hell of a look, Dr. O’Shea.”

As Brodie’s blue eyes worked their way along her scrappy ensemble for a second time Kali all but withered with embarrassment. Snappy comebacks weren’t her forte. Not by a long shot.

“Once I get a lab coat on it should be all right.”

Nice one, Kali.

“Sure.” Brodie turned and resumed his journey to the front of the clinic. “I’ll just get the patient list.”

Kali did a skip-run-walk thing to catch up with his long-legged strides.

“Would you like me to take a look?”

“That’s generally the idea with a patient list.”

Kali blew out a slow breath, her eyes on Brodie’s retreating back as she continued race-walking to keep up with him. Touchy, touchy! She was next to certain he wasn’t angry with her, but there was a bagpipe-sized chip on that shoulder of his.

“I meant your hand.”

Brodie stopped short and whirled around. Kali only just skidded to a halt in time not to run into his chest. Which, given how nice he smelled, wouldn’t have been too bad a thing, but—

“I’d have thought you’d be too afraid.”

“Wh-what?” Kali instinctively pulled back at Brodie’s aggressive response. She’d been afraid before. Terrified, actually. For her life. And she’d survived.

She pressed her heels into the ground. If she could make a last-minute exit out of an arranged marriage under the threat of death she could deal with a grumpy thirtysomething doctor with a self-induced kettle burn.

“I’ve dealt with difficult patients before,” she continued levelly, her eyes on his hand. Meeting his gaze would only increase the heated atmosphere. “I’m sure we’ll come out all right in the end.”

“Difficult patients with Ebola?”

Brodie thrust his hand forward and with every pore of strength she could muster Kali held her ground. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she was not—absolutely, positively not—going to start out her new life fearfully.

“Aren’t you going to touch it?”

He thrust his hand straight into her eyeline—millimeters from her face. What was this? Some sort of hardcore newcomer test? Whatever it was, she was not going to be frightened by Brodie McClellan or anyone—ever again.

* * *

Brodie watched, amazed, as Kali stood stock-still, seemingly unfazed by his ridiculously aggressive behavior. She took his hand in hers, one of her delicate fingers holding open his own as they instinctively tried to curl round the injury. It was the first time he’d been touched by someone outside of a medical exam in weeks, if not months. The power of it struck him deeply.

Kali’s delicate touch nearly released the soft moan building in his chest. He couldn’t—mustn’t—let her see how much this single moment meant to him. He looked at her eyes as they moved across his hand. Diligent, studied. Their extraordinary bright green making them almost feline. More tigress than tabby, he thought.

Moments later, as he exhaled, he realized he’d been holding his breath while Kali was examining him with clinical indifference—examining the burn mark he’d all but shoved directly in her face. It wasn’t a bad burn. His pride had been hurt more than his hand. Her touch had been more healing than any medicine. Not that he’d ever tell her. She’d be off soon. Like all the good things that came into his life. Just passing through.

Her long lashes flicked up over those green eyes of hers meeting his inquisitive gaze head-on. Could she see how strange this was for him? Being treated as if he weren’t a walking, talking contagious disease? No. It ran deeper than that. She was treating him compassionately. Without the stains of his past woven through her understanding of who he actually was.

“That’s all you’ve got?”

“I’m sorry?” Brodie near enough choked at her about-face, bring-it-on attitude.

“Ebola?” She scoffed. “That’s your best shot?”

Now it was Brodie’s turn to be confused. Was she trying to double bluff him?

“I get a bit of hazing, Dr. McClellan. The less than warm welcome, the mocking about this ridiculous outfit. But seriously...?” She snorted a get real snort, took a step back, her hand still holding his, and gave him a smile wreathed in skepticism. “That’s your best shot at getting me to hightail it back to the mainland, is it? Ebola?”

CHAPTER TWO

BRODIE PULLED HIS hand out of Kali’s and received an indignant stare in response.

“What? Now I’m not fit to see to a first-degree burn? I am a qualified GP, I’ll have you know.”

This time there was fire behind her words. She was no pushover. He liked that. Decorum ruled all here on Dunregan and it had never been a good fit for him. It was what had forced him to head out into the world to explore who he could be without That Day branded onto his every move.

Enough with the bitterness, McClellan. You’re not a teenager anymore.

“No, that’s not it at all.” Brodie waved away her presumption, opting to get over himself and just be honest. “I think the booking agency might not have been entirely forthright with you.”

“What are you talking about? Four weeks—with the possibility of an extension. What’s there to know beyond that?” Her forehead crinkled ever so slightly.

“I...” Brodie hesitated, then plunged forward. No point in beating round the bush. “I’ve recently finished my twenty-one-day clearance after three months working in an Ebola hospital. In Africa,” he added, as if it weren’t ruddy obvious where the hospital had been.

Three countries. Thousands dead. He’d wanted to make a difference. Needed to make a difference somewhere—anywhere—before coming back here. And he had done. Small-scale. But he’d been there. A pair of hazmat boots on the ground in a place where “risky” meant that sharing the same air as the person next to you might mean death. Only to come back and face a sea of incriminating looks.

Is this what you had in mind, Dad? Making me promise to work on the island for a year after you’d gone so I could be reminded how much of an outsider I am?

He shook off the thought. His father had been neither bitter nor vengeful. It had been his fathomless kindness and understanding that had driven the stakes of guilt deep into Brodie’s heart.

“Hmm...”

Kali’s green-eyed gaze remained steady apart from a blink or two. Could she see the inner turmoil he was fighting? Filial loyalty over a need to cut loose? To forge his own path.

Kali’s voice, when she finally spoke, was completely neutral. “Guess they did leave that bit out.” She considered him for a moment longer. “I am presuming you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t had the all clear so...it does beg the question: what am I doing here if you’re good to go?”

“Ah, the mysteries of life in Dunregan begin to reveal themselves.” This was the part that rankled. The part where Brodie found himself slamming doors, spilling boiling water and leaving unsuspecting GPs with their muck-covered bicycles by the side of the road on a stormy day.

“Some of—most of the patients are concerned...about being seen by me.” Total honesty? All of them. Fear of catching Ebola from Ol’ Dr. McClellan’s son had gripped the island.

Or...the thought struck him...maybe they had simply preferred his father and were using the Ebola scare as an excuse to refuse his treatment. Now, that hurt.

He cleared his throat. One step at a time.

“Even though you’ve had the all clear?” Kali’s voice remained impartial. She was fact gathering.

“Right. Apparently most folk round here don’t put much faith in the Public Health Office’s green light.” He snorted derisively. “And to think of all the viral infections I’ve treated here. Rich, isn’t it?”

He stopped himself. He was going to have to check the bitter tone in his voice. Yeah, he was angry. But he was hurting much more than he was spitting flames. And to add on moments like these—moments that reminded him why he wanted more than anything to live somewhere else. Oh, to be anonymous!

“I’m going to presume, as someone who has also taken the Hippocratic oath, that you wouldn’t have returned to your practice until you felt well and truly able to.”

Despite himself, he shot her a look. One that said, Obviously not. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so blinking frustrated.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Dr. McClellan! I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check with you.”

“Fair enough.”

And it was. It just felt...invasive...being questioned again. And by someone who hadn’t been through the post-Ebola wringer as he had.

Kali might be a fully qualified GP, but her face was unlined by personal history. With skin that smooth, no dark circles under her eyes, excited to be working in Dunregan... She had to be green around the ears.

“What are you? Two...three days out of med school?”

She looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. The rod of steel reasserted itself.

“Old enough. Apart from which, I don’t really think that’s any business of yours.”

“No.” Might as well be honest. “You just look—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” She all but spat the words out, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. “Baby-faced.”

“Not exactly what I was going to say,” Brodie countered. Arrestingly beautiful would’ve been more accurate. Her smooth skin was entirely unweathered by life, but now that he was paying more attention the wary look in her eyes spoke of wisdom beyond her years.

“Well...” She adopted a tone one might use for toddlers. “I’m a fully fledged grown-up, just like you, so you can rest easy, Dr. McClellan.”

“Brodie,” he countered with a smile.

He was warming to Kali. The more they spoke the more it seemed they might be two of a kind. Quick to smart when someone hit the right buttons. Slow to trust. A well-earned friendship if you ever got that far.

“Well, guess you’re just lucky. Good genes from your parents, eh?”

She stiffened.

More sensitive territory, from the looks of things. Maybe her relationship with her family was as terrific as the one he had with his. One wayward brother, a meddling auntie and a godsend of a niece who’d stepped in at the reception desk when his “loyal” long-term sidekick had flown the coop. Okay...so they weren’t that bad. But right now he was feeling a bit more me-against-the-world than he liked.