The GP's Meant-To-Be Bride

He went to get up again but Gemma quickly intervened. ‘I’ll get it.’

She stood up, easing around Ross with a murmured ‘Excuse me’. Ross felt a ripple of awareness run through him as she brushed against him in passing, and frowned. How many times had that happened over the last three years? There must have been dozens of occasions when he and Gemma had touched and he’d barely registered it, yet all of a sudden his brain was flashing signals along his nerves, alerting all the muscles and sinews to the fact that there was a young and attractive female in close proximity. And when he thought all his muscles, he meant all too.

He hurriedly sat down, stunned by what was happening to him. All right, so he was a normal healthy male with a normal healthy male’s interest in the opposite sex. However, was it really normal to be experiencing these feelings on the morning of what should have been his last day of bachelorhood?

Confusion clouded his mind so that when Gemma put a cup of tea in front of him he couldn’t even thank her. He took a gulp of the tea in the hope that it would ease the kinks out of his system. Maybe he needed to face up to his feelings instead of bottling them up? After all, he’d been looking forward to building a life with Heather, and to have his plans scuppered was bound to have hit him hard. Although he did feel a certain sense of relief, underneath that surely he was both upset and hurt?

Ross felt a little twinge deep inside him, not quite pain but something similar, and breathed a little easier. Of course he was upset and, that being the case, it was understandable if he was behaving oddly. He dredged up a smile, forcing his body to downgrade the alert from red to amber.

‘I take it that Heather isn’t here?’ he said, addressing himself to Matthew. He was aware in one part of his mind that Gemma had gone to refill Matt’s cup but he didn’t dwell on it. It had no relevance whatsoever to what had happened.

‘No. She left last night, caught the last train to London.’ Matt looked at him in despair. ‘I don’t know what she’s going to do there. I mean, she doesn’t know anyone and she has nowhere to live. London’s a big place. Heaven only knows what could happen to a woman on her own…’

His voice broke and he stared down at the table, overcome by fear for his daughter. Ross wished he could think of something to say, but anything he came up with sounded trite. It was left to Gemma to intervene again. Walking around the table, she laid a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder.

‘Heather will be fine. You mustn’t worry about her. She’s bright, resourceful and more than capable of looking after herself.’

She smiled at the older man, a smile of such compassion that Ross felt his heart ache with longing. All of a sudden he longed for some of that compassion for himself. He wanted Gemma to smile at him and make him feel that everything would be fine and that someone cared. That she cared. The thought startled him so much that he flinched, but thankfully the other two didn’t notice.

‘You really think so?’ Matt asked desperately and Gemma nodded, her silky pale hair falling over her cheek for a moment before she tucked it behind her ear.

‘Yes, I do. You did a really great job of raising her, Matt, and she isn’t going to go off the rails just because she’s moved to the city.’

Another smile, another gentle squeeze of the shoulder before she moved away; however, Ross’s eyes remained locked on her. He didn’t want to watch her but he couldn’t stop himself. She picked up the cup and brought it back to the table, and once again her hair fell softly over her face as she bent and placed it in front of Matt. Ross felt his breath catch in anticipation as he waited for her to do it again, tuck that silky, satiny lock of hair behind her ear…

His whole body went into spasm as he watched her anchor it back into place. Now he could see the delicate curl of her ear, see how small and pale it looked, almost translucent, like a shell that had been washed clean by the sea. Ears had been just ears to him before. He understood their structure and could have explained in simple terms why they were necessary. However, Gemma’s ear—so delicate, so beautiful—was more like a work of art than an anatomical fact. He could have sat there and studied it all day!

* * *

Gemma sat down at the table, carefully keeping her eyes on her cup. Ross was staring at her and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. She took a sip of her tea then almost choked as a thought occurred to her: did Ross believe that she’d known Heather had been planning to call off the wedding?

‘I had no idea what Heather was going to do.’ She turned to him in dismay. The worst thing was that she actually felt guilty even though she’d had no idea what her friend had been planning. As far as she’d been aware, Heather had been madly in love with Ross, and he with her.

The thought stung and she rushed on when he failed to answer. ‘It’s true, Ross. I swear, I didn’t know that Heather was going to call off the wedding.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He made a visible effort to collect himself. Picking up his cup, he swallowed some of the tepid tea and grimaced. If there was one thing he loathed it was lukewarm tea.

‘Of course it matters,’ Gemma snapped, suddenly angry with him. The least he could do was to be honest. Surely she warranted that much respect? She almost snatched the cup out of his hand and stood up. ‘Heather didn’t tell me, so if you’ve got it into your head that I knew something was wrong but was holding out on you, you can forget it.’

‘As I said, it doesn’t matter.’

There was an answering bite in his voice which was so out of character that Gemma did a double take. He gave her a tight smile, his blue eyes as bright and as cold as sapphires as he stared at her, and she was more convinced than ever that he did believe she’d had a hand in her friend’s decision. ‘The deed’s done, Gemma, so who knew what and when isn’t relevant. What’s important now is that we sort things out with the minimum of distress for everyone concerned.’

He held her gaze, daring her to proclaim her innocence a third time, but she wasn’t that foolish. Heads connecting with brick walls was a concept she had no intention of investigating at first hand. She smiled sweetly at him, her grey eyes as chilly as she could make them.

‘Of course. And it goes without saying that I’ll help any way I can.’

‘Thanks, but it’s all covered.’

He brushed aside her offer of help and Gemma’s mouth compressed. Ross may be every woman’s dream but he could also be her worst nightmare when he got into one of his stubborn moods. He was so focussed that once he got an idea into his head, it was impossible to shift it.

The thought was less than reassuring. Spinning round, she marched to the counter and switched on the kettle to make a fresh pot of tea. She needed to keep busy and could do with another cup to settle her nerves. As for Ross, well, she really didn’t care if he wanted tea or anything else. No wonder Heather had dumped him. He was so bloody arrogant, so opinionated, so…so…

Gorgeous, an inner voice suggested before she squashed it. As her grandmother had been fond of saying, handsome is as handsome does. She must remember that the next time she got the collywobbles around Dr Always-Right Mackenzie!

Gemma was still thinking evil thoughts and enjoying them too when the phone rang. Matthew sighed as he got up. ‘I expect this will be the first of many once the news gets out.’

There seemed little anyone could say to that so Gemma stayed silent, pouring the boiling water into the pot and popping on the lid. Ross seemed equally disinclined to talk, so she sat down and stared into space while the tea brewed, wondering if she should leave as soon as Matt came back. Ross had made it clear that her help wasn’t needed…

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I seem to be all over the place this morning.’

Her gaze flew to him when he spoke and her heart, not to mention her anger, melted when she saw the bewilderment in his eyes. Ross was always so centred that it was a shock to see him looking this lost. Impulsively, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

‘And I’m sorry, too, for being so snappy. I had no right. After all, it’s you who’s suffering. This must be terrible for you, Ross.’

All of a sudden her eyes filled with tears and she heard him sigh. ‘Don’t upset yourself on my account, Gemma. I’m fine—really, I am.’

‘How can you be?’ She dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘You must be in a state of shock—I am. I mean, I love Heather to bits. She’s the best friend anyone could have, but I can’t understand why she’s done this—and to you of all people.’

She hurried on when she saw his brows rise as he caught the vehemence in her tone. The last thing Ross needed at the moment was her admitting how she felt about him… Correction: the last thing Ross needed was her admitting how she felt about him, ever.

‘You two are perfect for each other. You have so much in common between your work and the things you enjoy doing. If I’d had to pick the ideal partner for either of you then I would have chosen Heather for you and you for Heather.’

‘That’s what I thought. Heather was perfect. She ticked all the right boxes.’ He broke off, looking a little embarrassed, and Gemma hastened to assure him there was no need.

‘And that’s why you fell head over heels in love with her,’ she said encouragingly.

‘Ye-e-s-s.’

There was something in his voice that made her stare at him. Had that been a hint of doubt she’d heard? Was Ross not sure—not one hundred and ten per cent sure—that he loved Heather with his whole heart? The thought was intriguing but before she could pursue it, Matt returned, looking more grim-faced than ever.

‘That was Ambulance Control on the phone. There’s been an incident on the canal, along that stretch which is being refurbished about ten miles south of here. One of the cranes has collapsed and there’s at least a dozen people injured, apparently.’

‘Have they despatched the rapid-response team?’ Ross demanded, standing up.

‘Yes, but there’s a snag. It appears there’s some sort of a problem with the fuel they use for the ambulances and other emergency vehicles. The whole fleet is off the road, apart from one paramedic car.’ Matt grimaced. ‘Ambulance Control has called for assistance from the neighbouring authorities but it’s going to be a while before they can get any ambulances here.’

‘And in the meantime they want us to do whatever we can,’ Ross guessed.

‘Exactly. I know it’s the worst possible day for something like this to happen, but we don’t have a choice, do we?’

‘No.’ Ross headed for the door. ‘I’ll get straight over there and see what I can do. Ben’s at my house, luckily enough, so I’ll pick him up en route.’

‘That would be a real help. I’ll phone Rachel and the others and follow you down.’ Matt turned to Gemma. ‘We’re going to need all the help we can get from the sound of it, Gemma, so can we count you in?’

‘Of course.’ Gemma jumped to her feet and hurried to the door.

‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Ross suggested as they all trooped into the hall. He paused, forcing Gemma to stop to avoid bumping into him. ‘That stretch of the canal is quite difficult to reach. The fewer vehicles that are there, blocking the way, the better.’

‘That’s a point,’ Matt concurred. ‘Heaven knows what sort of machinery they’ll need to shift that crane but there’s no point cluttering up the area. I’ll pick up Rachel and the others and that will help to keep the number of vehicles to a minimum.’

It was all sorted out without Gemma saying a word, not that she could have objected to going with Ross—that would have been too difficult to explain. She could hardly have admitted that the thought of being in the car with him was giving her hot and cold chills.

She slid into the rear seat, murmuring something about leaving the front passenger seat free for Ben. Ross obviously saw nothing strange in that, but he had no reason to be suspicious. He didn’t know that the thought of sitting next to him would have been torture for her. To feel his shoulder brush against hers, to smell the scent of his skin, to absorb the powerful force of his masculinity would have been both heaven and hell, and she couldn’t handle it. Not today. Not this day when he should have been on his way to church to marry her best friend.

She needed time to gather her thoughts and return them to the box mentally marked ‘Forbidden’ where they had resided for the last three years. Only then would she be able to cope, when Ross was back in his rightful place as her best friend’s fiancé… Only he was no longer that, was he? He was neither engaged to Heather nor married to her. To all intents and purposes, he was a free agent now. Available. Obtainable. Although not for someone like her. Not for a woman whose body had made men recoil in revulsion.

Pain speared through her heart as she stared out of the car window. She could only ever love Ross from afar.

CHAPTER THREE

GEMMA had been seventeen when her whole life had changed. She had been in her first year at sixth-form college and just finding her feet as an adult. She had been enjoying her studies and enjoying the new opportunities to socialise. Life had been exciting, exhilarating, fun.

When her friend Katie suggested that they go to Sheffield to see a concert, Gemma was thrilled. Katie had passed her driving test a few months earlier and the plan was that she would drive them there. Gemma pleaded with her parents to let her go and in the end, they agreed. They knew Katie and trusted her.

The concert was as good as they had hoped it would be. Gemma and Katie were on a high as they drove home afterwards, singing along to a CD of the bands they had seen that night. They were within a mile of home when a car suddenly pulled out of a side road and rammed straight into them.

Gemma took the brunt of the impact. Part of the door embedded itself into her side, slicing through her left kidney and damaging her spleen. There was extensive tissue damage, broken ribs, bruising to her spine, although, mercifully, she was unaware of how severe her injuries were. The long weeks she spent in ICU were a blank. She remembered nothing about them, although her parents told her later that twice they were warned to prepare themselves when it looked as though she was about to lose her battle to survive. Yet somehow, against all the odds, she pulled through.

Once she left Intensive Care she underwent months of physiotherapy plus more surgery. Her kidney had needed to be removed as well as her spleen, but the surgeons assured her that she would be able to function perfectly well without either organ. What they couldn’t do anything about was the extensive scarring from the many operations she’d needed, but that seemed relatively unimportant compared to the fact that she was alive. With the support of her family, Gemma resumed her studies and soon discovered that the plans she’d made for a career in law no longer appealed. She decided to train as a nurse and help people like herself who had been injured.

It was during her final year in university that she started dating one of the other students. Up till then she’d been more concerned about catching up with her peer group, but when Mike Walsh asked her out, she accepted. Within a couple of weeks Gemma knew that she was falling in love, and the wonderful thing was that Mike felt the same way. She had told him about the accident, glossing over the fact that she still bore the scars from it because they hadn’t seemed important; they were just part of her and that was that. Mike, however, viewed them in an entirely different light.

Gemma was stunned by his reaction the first time they slept together. Although he tried to hide it, she could tell he was repulsed by the sight of her damaged flesh. Every time they made love after that, she was aware that he averted his eyes from the left side of her body and never, ever, touched her there.

It was inevitable that their relationship would fail. Neither of them could cope with the continual stress. By the time they parted, all Gemma felt was relief that she would no longer be made to feel like a freak. However, it proved one thing to her: no man would find her attractive undressed. And that was when she made her decision to save herself a great deal of heartache by never having a physical relationship with a man again…

‘I’ll just fetch Ben. Is there anything you need? A coat, a sweater, gloves?’ Ross frowned when he saw Gemma jump. She hadn’t said a word on the drive to his house. She’d been so quiet, in fact, that he’d wondered if she had fallen asleep at one point. However, a glance in the rearview mirror had soon dispelled that idea.

His frown deepened as he recalled the expression on her face. She’d looked so lost, so lonely, so much in pain, and he couldn’t understand it… Unless she was upset about the wedding being cancelled? Gemma’s ability to empathise with people was legendary in the surgery; all their patients remarked on how sympathetic she was. Now he couldn’t help feeling guilty that she was suffering because of him. If he’d thought long and hard before he’d asked Heather to marry him, based the decision on his emotions rather than ticking all those wretched boxes, a lot of people might not be feeling quite so upset today.

It was galling to admit that he was at fault. Ross got out of the car without waiting to see if Gemma was going to take him up on his offer of extra clothing. He would take some stuff with him and she could choose what she wanted, he decided as he let himself into the house. Ben was just hanging up the phone—he grimaced when Ross went in.

‘I’ve only managed to contact about half the people on this list. Most of them are already on their way here.’

‘I’ll phone the vicar and ask him to meet them at the church,’ Ross said shortly, unhooking a waterproof jacket from the peg behind the door. He tossed it over a chair then rummaged through the stack of Wellington boots until he found a pair that should fit Gemma, then picked up a larger pair for himself plus a pair for Ben.

‘I thought you were going to meet the ones who turned up,’ Ben said uncertainly, eyeing the mound of clothing. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I understand if you’ve changed your mind. It’s not something I’d relish doing either.’

‘I’d go if I could but I’m afraid we’re needed elsewhere.’

Ross felt around on the shelf and came up with several pairs of gloves which he added to the pile. The kitchen was starting to resemble a jumble sale but they’d be glad of the extra layers. It was bitterly cold outside and they would be frozen if they were outside for any length of time, Gemma in particular. All she had on was a sweatshirt and jeans—she’d catch her death.

The thought was far too worrying. Ross pushed it aside and opened the cupboard. Lifting out the spare pack of medical supplies he kept for emergencies, he placed it next to the chair.

‘We are?’ Ben’s brows rose steeply. ‘Why? What’s up?’

‘A crane has collapsed down by the canal and there are several people injured,’ Ross explained, opening the pack to check that everything was there. Dressings, scissors, stethoscope, cannulas…what else? Ah, yes, saline, an essential in a situation like this.

He lifted out the box containing the pouches of fluid, and handed it to Ben. ‘Here. Grab hold of this.’

‘How come you’ve been asked to attend?’ Ben demanded, taking the box from him.

‘Because your lot aren’t up to the job,’ Ross quipped. He scooped up the clothes, swung the backpack over his shoulder and headed for the door.

‘Cheek!’ Ben loped along beside him. He reached around and opened the front door seeing as Ross’s hands were full. ‘Seriously, though, what’s going on?’

‘Apparently, there’s a problem with the fuel that’s been delivered to Dalverston’s ambulance station. All the vehicles apart from one paramedic car are out of action.’ He juggled the pairs of Wellingtons as he tried to unlock the boot of the car, dropped one, and cursed.

‘I’ll get that.’

All of a sudden Gemma was there, bending down to retrieve the recalcitrant boot. Ross nodded his thanks as he stowed the equipment in the car, then eased a waxed jacket out of the tangle of clothing and handed it to her.

‘Thanks.’ She shrugged it on, shivering as she zipped it up. Taking the box from Ben, she put it with the rest of the gear then slammed the boot lid.

‘I can’t believe this has happened!’ Ben was muttering to himself as they climbed into the car. ‘No ambulances? What on earth are they going to do for the rest of the day?’

‘It could take longer than a day to sort things out,’ Ross pointed out. He pulled out of the drive and turned right, heading towards the canal. ‘Remember that problem they had down south last year? Dozens of cars broke down because there was something in the fuel? It took weeks to get them back on the road. They had to strip all the engines.’

‘We can’t be without an ambulance service for weeks!’ Ben exclaimed. ‘Lives will be lost.’

‘They’ll come up with some sort of a contingency plan,’ Gemma said soothingly from the back seat.

‘You’re right.’ Ben turned round and grinned at her. ‘Of course they will. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get my knickers in a twist!’

They both laughed, Ben at his own stupidity, Gemma at the joke, although Ross didn’t join in. Ben and Gemma seemed very friendly all of a sudden. Far more friendly than he would have expected, although wasn’t it tradition that romantic sparks should fly between the best man and the bridesmaid? Had Ben been looking forward to upholding that tradition, perhaps? Well, if that was the case, maybe it was a good job the wedding had been cancelled.

The force of that thought surprised him so much that the car swerved as he pulled a little too forcefully on the steering-wheel. ‘Ice,’ he said briefly to excuse his error. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, expecting Gemma to smile with her customary understanding, but she was staring straight ahead with an expression of such terror on her face that he was instantly contrite. The last thing he wanted was to scare her witless!

The rest of the journey passed without incident, mainly because Ross refused to let his mind wander again. The paramedic car had already arrived when they reached the canal so Ben went to speak to the driver. Ross unloaded their gear, piling everything on the ground next to the car.

‘Help yourself to anything you need,’ he told Gemma when she came to help him.

‘Thanks.’

She picked up a woollen hat and pulled it on, silky tendrils of silver-gold hair peeking out from under the brim, and that funny wobbly feeling started up again in the pit of Ross’s stomach. Lifting out the haversack, he swung it over his shoulder and headed towards the footpath that led to the canal.

‘I’ll go and see what’s what,’ he said tersely, determined to keep a rein on his emotions before they got him into trouble.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said immediately, grabbing a pair of gloves.

They climbed over the stile, followed the path through the copse then ground to a halt at the sight that met them. The whole arm of the crane, complete with a huge metal girder it had been lifting, had buckled and was straddling the canal from one bank to the other. Sections of metalwork had sheered off when it had collapsed and had rained down on the men who’d been working below. Ross could see a number of people lying on the ground and several others, including a boy of about ten, wandering about looking dazed. Turning to Gemma, he rattled out instructions.

‘You check the guy nearest to us while I take a look at the crane driver. I’ll check out the child first, though—I don’t want him hanging around here any longer than is necessary. Do what you can but don’t waste time if it doesn’t look hopeful. Speed is of the essence here. Ben should be along soon so don’t do anything stupid. And keep well away from the crane. That thing could collapse at any moment and I don’t want you underneath it if it does.’