The Courage To Love Her Army Doc

‘Can I refuse to take part in this kava thing?’ She’d used up her quota of bravery already. Drinking unknown substances with strangers was the sort of thing that could make her the subject of one of those ‘disappearances unsolved’ programmes.

Her idea of living dangerously was putting an extra spoonful of sugar in her cuppa at bedtime, not imbibing a local brew of origin unknown to her. It wasn’t that she’d heard anything but good things about these people, she was just scared of all this newness. This would’ve been so much easier if Peter was here with her instead of the scowling Joe.

‘You have free will, of course you can refuse. It would, however, show a distinct lack of respect for your hosts.’

That would be a no, then. It was going to be difficult enough fitting in here, without incurring the wrath of the community from the get-go.

Trust and respect were vital components between a doctor and her patients. It had taken her a long time to gain both from her colleagues and the locals when she’d first joined the GP practice at home. Only years of hard work, building her reputation, had moved her from being last option to first choice for her patients.

With only two weeks to re-create that success here she’d have to take every opportunity available to ingratiate herself. Even if she was breaking out in a cold sweat at what that meant she could be walking into.

They passed a white building, larger than the rest, which her tour guide informed her was the village school. Although lessons were surely over for the day, the children were congregated on the patch of green surrounding it, playing ball games. There was a chorus of ‘Bula!’ as the youngsters waved in their direction.

Unfortunately, one boy by the volleyball net was too distracted by their arrival to see the ball coming straight for him. The loud smack as it connected full in his face even made Emily flinch. As the child crumpled to the ground, for a split second she wondered if there was some sort of protocol she should follow as she hadn’t been officially introduced. Common sense quickly overrode her worry and she dropped her bags to run to him. It was only when she was battling through the throng of children to reach him that she realised Joe had followed too. They knelt on either side of the boy, who was thankfully still conscious but clearly winded.

‘If you could just stay still for us, sweetheart, we want to give you a check over. That was quite a hit you took there.’ She couldn’t see any blood or bruising as yet but she wanted him to stay flat until they’d given him a quick examination.

‘Hi, Joni. This is Emily, the new doctor. You know, Pastor Peter’s sister?’ Joe made the introduction she’d omitted to do herself, and was already checking the boy’s pupils with a small torch he’d retrieved from one of his pockets.

She’d bet her life he had a Swiss Army knife and a compass somewhere in those cargo shorts too. He was the type of guy who was always prepared, like a rugged, muscly Boy Scout. The only survival essentials she carried were make-up, teabags and chocolate biscuits, none of which were particularly useful at present. The few medical supplies she had with her were packed somewhere in her abandoned luggage.

Life as an island doctor certainly wasn’t going to run to the office hours she was used to. She was going to be permanently on call and if she didn’t come equipped, deferring to her army medic colleague was going to become the norm. That feeling of inadequacy could defeat the purpose of her personal journey here if she didn’t get with the programme. This trip was primarily to bring medical relief to the people of the island and she could do without uncovering any new flaws to obsess over.

‘Do you know where you are, Joni? Or what happened?’ She wrestled back some control, determined not to let the issue of a pocket torch spiral into a major meltdown in her neurotic brain.

That earned her an Are you serious? glare. ‘I’m lying on the ground because you two won’t let me get up after I got hit in the face with a ball.’

Joe snickered as she was educated by her first patient.

‘Dr Emily’s making sure the bump on the head hasn’t caused any serious damage, smart guy.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair, clearly already acquainted with the child.

She figured he was using her first name to break the ice a little because she was a stranger. Either that or he didn’t know what surname she was currently going under.

It was a subject she hadn’t fully resolved herself. Greg Clifford was going to be someone else’s husband soon. She no longer had any claim over his name, or anything else. Yet reverting back to her maiden name of Jackson was confirmation that her marriage had failed. She’d been returned unwanted for a second time, like a mangy stray dog. The idea of going back on the singles market felt very much like waiting for someone to take pity on her and find her a forever home.

She tried to refocus her attention back from her ex to the present. He didn’t deserve any more of her time since all the years she’d given him had apparently meant so little.

‘Do you have any pain in your neck?’

Her choice of words had her patient sniggering at her again.

‘Come on, Joni. We’re trying to help you here. We need to know if you’re hurting anywhere before we get you back on your feet.’

It was comforting to find Joe had her back this time, even if his apparent seniority here was irksome.

‘I’m okay.’ As if to try to prove their fears unwarranted, Joni jumped to his feet, only to have to reach out and steady himself by grabbing Joe’s arm.

If Emily was honest, she’d have made a grab for the strong and sturdy desert island doc too in similar circumstances.

‘Really?’ Joe arched a dark eyebrow as he glanced down at his new small-child accessory.

Joni shrugged but made no further wisecracks.

‘We should really get him checked out properly.’ Although he bore no immediate signs of concussion, it didn’t mean they should rule it out altogether.

As well as getting a cold compress to prevent swelling, she’d prefer to keep him under observation in case of headaches or vomiting. He’d taken quite a wallop and although the skull was there to protect the brain there was always a chance the knock could cause the brain to swell or bleed. She didn’t like taking unnecessary chances.

‘The best option for now is to get him to Miriama’s.’ Joe crouched down for the patient to jump on his back. A piggyback was apparently the equivalent of an ambulance around here.

‘Isn’t there a medical centre we can take him to?’ A small bird of panic fluttered its wings in her chest. She’d been led to believe there’d be some sort of facility for her to practise from. He might be used to treating people in the field but she certainly wasn’t.

‘Of sorts, but Miriama is his grandmother and the closest thing they have to a medic. She can keep an eye on him until you make sevusevu and if his condition changes we’ll only be a few minutes away.’

It didn’t slip her attention that he intended coming with her. In the absence of her brother she supposed he was going to have to do as backup. At least this incident showed he could be a calming influence when the need arose and she trusted he would keep her grounded until she tracked down her sibling.

‘What about my things?’ As they followed the dirt trail further into the village she fretted over her worldly possessions abandoned on the hillside.

‘No one’s going to steal them. We’ll come back for the yaqona and send someone to take the rest back to Miriama’s later.’ He strode on ahead, unconcerned with her petty worries or the weight strapped around his neck.

She could picture him in his army gear, bravely heading into battle with his kit on his back, and it gave her chills. The idea of her brother in a war zone had always freaked her out and there’d been no greater relief than when he’d left the army. She was glad he was no longer in danger. Joe too. Life here might be more unconventional than she was used to but she didn’t have to worry about anyone getting shot or blown up.

With her imagination slowing her down, she was forced to run and catch up again. The sandals slapping against her bare feet really weren’t suitable footwear for chasing fit men in a hurry.

‘Why should my luggage end up at Miriama’s?’ That obscure snippet of information hadn’t passed her by.

‘That’s where you’re going to be staying for the next fortnight. Miriama’s your host.’

Although she hadn’t expected the luxury of last night’s five-star resort, she’d imagined she’d be staying with her brother rather than another stranger.

‘Peter’s staying with the village chief. He’s earned a great deal of respect from the community for his endeavours here.’ Joe headed off her next question before she could ask it. She couldn’t help but wonder what his own arrangements were.

‘And you? Where do you lay your head at night?’ Only when the words left her lips did she realise how nosy that sounded. She hadn’t intended prying into his personal life but this was all new to her. She didn’t know if he was presented with pretty young virgins and his own house to thank him for his services. It would certainly explain her brother’s reluctance to leave the village.

He cocked his head to one side, his mouth twitching as he fought a smile. ‘Well, there’s a new arrival in my bed tonight—’

She held her hand up before he went into graphic detail. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.’

‘So I’m moving from Miriama’s into the clinic.’

It took a second for the image of Joe cavorting with exotic beauties to clear and let his words sink in.

‘I’m taking your bed? Honestly, that’s not necessary. I’m more than willing to take your place at the clinic.’ She didn’t know what that entailed but she’d take it over the lack of privacy in someone else’s house.

Joe shook his head. ‘The clinic’s a glorified hut with two camp beds and a supply cupboard. You’ll find no comfort there. I, on the other hand, am used to kipping in ditches, or worse. It’s no hardship for me. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour.’ He gave a furtive glance back at his charge to make sure he wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t want to offend Miriama but I prefer the peace and quiet of being alone. I’m not used to domesticity.’

Perhaps it was because he was the first man to get so close to her in well over a year or the picture he painted of himself as some wild creature who couldn’t be tamed but the shivers were back, causing havoc along her spine and the back of her neck.

Okay, she wasn’t happy with the arrangements made on her behalf but she couldn’t deny him his bed choice when he’d gone so far out of his way for her already. She couldn’t form a logical argument anyway when her brain was still stuck on a freeze frame of caveman Joe.

* * *

The smiling Miriama was as welcoming as anyone could hope for. Until she found out Emily had yet to meet with the tribal elders and shooed them both back out of the door. She’d unhitched her grandson with the promise of getting some ice for the bump on his forehead and accepted some paracetamol, which Joe had produced from his shorts of many pockets. This new informal approach to treatment would take some getting used to. Just like her new co-worker would.

They retrieved her gifts for the community on the way back to the chief’s house and dispatched the rest of her belongings back to her temporary lodgings with the children. Trust didn’t come easily to her any more but she was willing to take a leap of faith safe in the knowledge there were few places on the island to hide. She’d found that out the minute she’d set foot on the beach.

Now she was standing on the doorstep of the most important man on Yasi as Joe entered into a dialogue she assumed involved her arrival. It was hard to tell because they were conversing in Fijian, another skill he’d apparently acquired in his short time here and one more advantage over her. Languages had never been her strong point. Along with keeping a husband.

She was hanging back as the menfolk discussed her business, still hoping for a way out, when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

‘Hey, sis. Long time no see.’

In her desire to be accepted she thought she’d imagined her stepbrother standing beside her in a garish pink hibiscus shirt but there was no mistaking the bear hug as anything but the real deal as the breath was almost squeezed out of her.

‘Peter?’ The tears were already welling in her eyes with relief to have finally found some comfort.

‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now, Joe will be acting as our “chief” since he’s the eldest of our group, or temporary tribe. It’s his job to present the kava root to the elders. We’ll talk you through everything else once we’re inside.’

He instructed her to remove her sandals before they entered. Sandwiched between her brother and Joe was the safest she’d felt in an age. They sat down on woven mats strewn across the floor of the main room, surrounded by those she assumed were the elders of the village.

‘I take it everything met with their approval?’ She leaned over to whisper to her unofficial leader sitting cross-legged beside her.

Joe kept his gaze straight ahead, completely ignoring her. She didn’t know if pretending she didn’t exist was part of the process until she was accepted into the community or if he was completely relinquishing all responsibility for her now Peter had appeared. Either way, it hurt.

She leaned back the other direction toward Peter. ‘Am I persona non grata around here until the ceremony’s over?’

He frowned at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

She nodded at her silent partner. ‘Your friend here can be a little cold when he wants. Thanks for landing me with a complete stranger, by the way. Just what I needed to make me feel at home. Not.’

The cheesy grin told her he’d done it on purpose. ‘I thought you two could do with some team bonding since you’ll be working together, and he volunteered in the first place. I should probably mention he’s a bit hard of hearing, especially if you’re whispering.’

‘I had no idea!’ Shame enveloped her. It had never entered her head that hearing impairment could’ve been an issue with Joe when he was so young and capable. She of all people should’ve known not to make assumptions based on people’s appearances.

‘Yeah. IED blast. The one where we lost Ste and Batesy.’

The pieces she’d been scrambling to put together slowly fitted into place. Of course, she’d heard of Sergeant Joe Braden. He’d been one of Peter’s best friends and that blast had made her brother finally experience for himself the worry and fear of losing someone close. It hadn’t been long after that he’d made the decision to change his career path completely. She hated it that his friends had suffered so much for him to reach that point and now she’d met the man behind the name, that blast held more significance than ever.

She sneaked a sideways peek at him. His strong profile gave no clue to his impairment. There was no physical evidence to provoke a discussion or sympathy. Unlike her, whose scars were there for the world to see and pass judgement on.

Over the years she’d heard all sorts of theories whispered behind her back. From being scalded as a baby to being the victim of a house fire or an acid attack, she’d heard them all. In the end it had been easier to simply cover the birthmark than to endure the constant rumours.

Joe came across as a stronger, more confident person than she could ever hope to be, but that kind of injury must’ve caused him the same level of anguish at one time or another. Someone like him would’ve seen it as a personal weakness when their whole career had been built on personal fitness and being the best. She barely knew him but she could tell that the word ‘courage’ was stamped all over his DNA. She was even more in awe of him now she knew something of his past.

As though he could sense her staring at the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft contours of his lips, Joe slowly turned to face her. ‘There’s a certain guide to drinking kava. You clap once with a cupped hand, making a hollow sound, and yell, ‘Bula!’ Drink it in one gulp, clap three times and say, ‘Mathe.’ You’ll be offered the option of high tide or low tide. I strongly advise low tide for your first time.’

‘Okay...’ She might’ve put this down as some sort of elaborate practical joke if it wasn’t for the twinkle in his eye and his excited-puppy enthusiasm while waiting for the ceremony to begin. In contrast to her reservations about the whole palaver, he clearly relished being a part of the culture.

He fell silent again as the villagers began to grind up the kava in the centre of the room. There were few women present but as the proceedings got under way she didn’t feel intimidated at all. The relaxed atmosphere and the men playing guitar in the corner of the room gave it more of a party vibe. Despite her initial reservations, she was actually beginning to relax.

After they ground the kava, it was strained through a cloth bag into a large wooden bowl. It looked like muddy water to her but the chief drank it down without hesitation, as did Peter and Joe. She was thankful for the advice when it came to her turn. Requesting ‘low tide’ ensured the coconut shell she was offered was only half-full.

It didn’t taste any better than it looked. Like mud. Bitter, peppery mud. Definitely an acquired taste but she drank it in one gulp and did the happy, clappy thing which seemed to please everyone. For unknown reasons the proud look from Joe was the one that gave her tingles.

In fact, it wasn’t long before her mouth and tongue seemed to go completely numb.

‘Whath happenin’?’ she lisped to Peter as her tongue suddenly seemed to be too big for her mouth.

‘That’ll be the kava kicking in. It’s a very mild narcotic but don’t worry, it’ll pass soon.’ Something that wasn’t bothering her God-fearing brother as he accepted another bowl.

She declined to partake in any further rounds, which her hosts accepted without any offence. Clearly she’d already proved herself as a worthy guest. Thank goodness. Any more and she’d either pass out or lose control of the rest of her faculties. All she wanted now was for Joe to take her to bed. Home. She meant home...

* * *

Joe had become accustomed to the bitter-tasting celebration drink to the point even a second bowl had had no effect. He was aware, however, that it might not be the same for Emily, especially as she was probably tired and hungry and currently running her fingertips across her lips. Numb no doubt from the small taste she’d had. He watched as she darted her tongue out to lick them, drawing his attention and thoughts to where they shouldn’t go.

Emily was his best friend’s sister and obviously running away from her demons to have come somewhere so clearly out of her comfort zone. She wasn’t, and couldn’t ever be, someone he could hook up with. Normally he didn’t hesitate to act on his attraction to women on his travels. Life was too short and so was his stay in their company when he was always on the move. This was an entirely different situation. Peter would always be part of his life and he wouldn’t jeopardise that friendship when he invariably moved on. There was no point thinking of her as anything other than a hindrance, a soft soul who’d probably never left her cosy office and would only get in his way. A liability he didn’t want or need.

Now she had been fully accepted into the community the villagers soon let their curiosity shine through and asked the questions he already knew the answers to.

‘Do you have a husband?’

‘What about children?’

The first question had thrown her, he could see it in her wide aquamarine eyes and knew why. Peter had confided in him about her marital problems long before her arrival because he’d worried how she might’ve been affected by it all. He’d taken her acceptance to help out on the mission as the first step to her recovery and had sworn Joe to secrecy. Not that it was any of his business anyway and he’d no wish to embarrass her by answering for her now. This was her call.

She took her time in finding an answer she was happy to give them. ‘No husband or children.’

It didn’t surprise him to find her divorce wasn’t a subject she intended to discuss. She wasn’t the only one who preferred to keep private matters out of the public domain. Only Peter knew about his past in the army and the fallout from the IED, and that’s the way it would stay. Much like Emily, he’d decided he didn’t need sympathy or pitying looks.

The gathering and the kava seemed to relax her more as the evening wore on, and she fielded their questions about her work without giving away too much personal information. A single, female doctor was something of a novelty out here and he understood their fascination. He was caught up in it too.

As usual, the evening ended with music and dancing, with both he and a yawning Emily watching from the sidelines.

‘You can go any time you’re ready.’

‘Really? They won’t mind?’ In contrast to her earlier attempt to cry off from proceedings, she now seemed apprehensive about potentially upsetting her hosts. That was the beauty of the people here. They were so warm and friendly it was impossible to feel like an outsider for too long.

‘Sure. You’ve done everything right and they’ll understand you’re tired. This could go on all night.’ He got up and helped her to her feet.

‘Peter?’ She waited for her brother to join her but he wasn’t as ready as his companions to leave.

Joe couldn’t wait for some time out from the crowd. Sometimes the white noise could be a bit overwhelming when he couldn’t pick out individual conversations.

‘You could see Emily to Miriama’s, couldn’t you? It’s on the way back to the medical centre.’

He couldn’t fault Peter’s logic since he was staying with the chief anyway but it meant prolonging his role as escort a while longer. This was beyond the remit of his volunteer medic/best friend duties and he didn’t want it to become a habit. He’d only known Emily a few hours and for someone who considered himself a lone wolf he’d already taken on too much responsibility.

‘Fine.’ He sighed with just enough sulkiness to let Peter know he wasn’t happy playing babysitter any more.

The only thoughts in his head about Emily should be to do with the clinic and how they were going to make it work together. Now there was no chance of forgetting how beautiful she’d looked, sitting cross-legged, utterly transfixed with island life, if she was going to be the last thing he saw before going to sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

EMILY WAS STILL trying to shuffle back into her shoes as she trailed after Joe. If it wasn’t for it being completely pitch-black outside without the streetlights she took for granted back home and the sense of direction that meant she shouldn’t be allowed out of the house unsupervised, she’d totally have made her own way back without him. Joe’s term as ‘leader’ had clearly ended given his reluctance to see her home. Not that she blamed him. She’d imposed long enough and as soon as she had five minutes alone with her brother she’d tear strips off him for palming her off on him all night.

Peter should have understood what a big deal it had been for her to come here and gone out of his way to look after her. She needed some TLC after everything she’d gone through, not being frog-marched home as if she’d broken curfew. This was supposed to build her confidence, not reaffirm that idea she spoiled everyone’s fun.

‘I’m sorry you’ve copped babysitting duties for the nuisance little sister again.’ She made sure she spoke loudly and clearly for him to hear. She didn’t know the full extent of his hearing loss. He wasn’t wearing a hearing aid but he was the type of guy who wouldn’t be seen with one even if he needed it.

‘No problem. We can’t have you stumbling about here alone in the dark. It’ll take a while for you to get your bearings but you’ll be able to walk this island with your eyes shut in no time.’