Judy Campbell - Return of Dr Maguire

He padded downstairs wearily and opened the front door, realising too late that he was still only dressed in a small towel wrapped round his waist. Christa was standing there, with Titan standing guard by her side.

They stared at each other, his eyes sweeping over her slim figure, elegant in jeans, long black boots and a warm, close-fitting red biker jacket with a black scarf casually looped round her neck. He clapped a hand to his forehead.

‘Oh, God! Sorry! I fell asleep after my shower...forgot you were coming.’ His austere expression changed to a wry grin. ‘I’d have put something on to hide my modesty if I’d known it was you.’

Christa flicked a glance over the lean and athletic body before her. Good God, was ever a man in such superb shape! She wondered crossly why the sight of his bare chest should affect her when it was something she saw routinely in the surgery—but, then, of course, not many of her patients had torsos like Lachlan Maguire!

She tore her glance away and said blandly, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before... If it’s inconvenient, I’ll come back another time.’

‘No time like the present...’ He held the door open and motioned her in. ‘If you’ll wait in the kitchen I’ll put some clothes on—won’t be a minute.’

He stepped away as Christa passed him and she caught the faint fresh smell of soap and shaving lotion. She watched as he bounded up the stairs, holding onto the towel, and grimaced to herself when she remembered the way she’d harangued him about being nothing but the scum of the earth! That was the last thing he looked...he had to be the sexiest male on two legs that she’d seen for a very long time. Not, she reminded herself sharply, that she was at all interested in sexy males—they were too sure of themselves, too confident by half and far too duplicitous.

She sat down in the ramshackle kitchen with Titan curled up on an old rug under the window. There were ancient cupboards with broken hinges, an old-fashioned stove on four cast-iron legs and a few dusty shelves with bottles and jam jars jostling for space. Isobel had been a lonely person, living on her own in this big house, and patently had had no interest in cooking if the look of the kitchen was anything to go by. It was almost shocking that she had allowed the house to get into this state—odd, too, when she had been a well-organised and efficient doctor.

If Lachlan was married and came to live in Errin Bridge, how would his wife take to living in a time warp like this? Indeed, would she relish the thought of leaving Australia and coming up to a Scottish backwater?

Engrossed in her thoughts, Christa didn’t notice Lachlan at first when he appeared at the door. She was gazing out of the window, her shiny bob of auburn hair framing a profile of a determined little chin and a tip-tilted nose. She was feisty with decided opinions—rather like he was, he acknowledged. He guessed she wasn’t about to defer to him in any discussion about the practice.

‘I’ve looked in the drinks cupboard,’ he said from the doorway. ‘All I can find is whisky and more whisky... Would that be OK?’

Christa jumped with surprise and looked round at him, relieved to see that he was now more modestly attired in jeans and a T-shirt under a corduroy jerkin. ‘Yes, please, with a splash of water.’

She watched him as he poured out the drink, his movements neat, unfussy. He handed her a tumbler and she twirled the amber liquid around in her glass, watching the light catch it, and then looked at him warily.

‘So. When are you going to decide on whether or not to follow your mother’s wishes?’

‘I’ve almost decided, although I do have some matters to discuss with the solicitor,’ he admitted. ‘If those matters can be resolved and I can find a way to pay for the repairs to the house, then I’m tempted to come back.’

‘That’s a big decision—to give up your life in Australia,’ commented Christa. ‘Did you like it there?’

‘Certainly I did...’ A slight change in expression flickered across his face. ‘But I’ve been there a good while and perhaps it’s time to come back to my roots.’ He looked across the rolling fields to the side of the house and the sea beyond, lacy with white breakers, and smiled. ‘Who wouldn’t want to live in the beautiful surroundings of Errin Bridge?’

‘And are you married—would your wife mind you moving away from Australia?’

Lachlan laughed. ‘No—I’ve no ties, I’m entirely free... And you? Are you someone’s wife or mother?’

Christa took a gulp of the whisky and it trailed fire down her throat. ‘Oh, no,’ she said airily. ‘I’m not into commitment—far too much to do with my life first.’

‘How very wise,’ he murmured.

Christa changed the subject abruptly—she certainly didn’t want to dwell on the past, especially her relationship with Colin Maitland. She drew out her list of bullet points from her bag and looked at Lachlan challengingly.

‘Now, can we get down to business? I have to say bluntly I’m not happy that you can just leap into the practice here as senior partner—I can’t believe that Isobel wouldn’t understand how I’d feel about it all.’

Lachlan put his hands up. ‘Hey! Not so fast! You have a habit of jumping to conclusions, don’t you? I’m certainly not proposing to leap into anything, but if I’m to have full responsibility for the buildings, I need to have at least an equal say.’

‘Fair enough...but, to be blunt, I’d like to know what experience you have. I know nothing about you.’

‘Of course!’ The austere face broke into a grin. ‘I’ve been with the Flying Doctor service in Australia for a few years, and I’m quite brilliant at small ops...a dab hand at dealing with every imaginable situation, from snake bites and childbirth to extracting teeth and acute dehydration...’

Christa couldn’t resist smiling at him, her cheeks dimpling. He certainly had all the Maguire charm of persuasion, and underneath that sometimes dour expression he seemed to have a sense of humour. But there were still questions as to why he’d leave his life in Australia so easily.

‘You have an interesting job there—why give it all up, even if your mother has left you Ardenleigh?’ she asked curiously.

He swirled the whisky round in his glass, the smile fading from his face. ‘Time to move on, I guess. I’d been thinking of leaving for some time—it was a great life, but it wasn’t Errin Bridge. I think I always hoped to come back here some day.’

But not while your mother was alive, thought Christa, puzzled as to why that should be. She tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully. ‘We’d have to get on with each other...’

A raised eyebrow. ‘You’re bound to be able to get on with an easygoing guy like me!’

She looked at Lachlan sardonically. ‘You think? Suppose we don’t, and incredibly I find you’re impossible to work with? I’m certainly not going to be the one leaving the practice.’

‘Let’s give it six months—if the incredible happens and you find you can’t work with me, then I shall go!’ He took another swig of his drink. ‘I’ll give you the e-mail address of my boss near Sydney—I can guarantee he’ll give me a good reference.’

Christa nodded coolly. She wasn’t about to go overboard and welcome him with open arms yet. ‘I imagine it will be very different from the Australian Outback. You ought to know something about the practice here...’’

‘People still have the same illnesses, I suppose. What about local hospitals?’

‘St Luke’s, about eight miles away, is the nearest, but we have a small cottage hospital in the town, mostly for post-operative use when patients living in outlying districts have no one to look after them. And we have a minor injuries unit at the surgery.’

‘Sounds good. Anything else?’

‘You’d have to be good at walking up mountains. We’re the back-up team if things go wrong up there—and you’d be amazed how often that happens in the summer with the tourists.’

He raised an impressed eyebrow. ‘You’re a Jill of all trades, then. I remember going out to help before I went to medical school. I enjoyed it, so you can count me in.’

‘You sound as if you’ve made up your mind!’

‘I suppose I have,’ he said cautiously. ‘A germ of an idea came to me when I was resting upstairs about how I might raise some money to restore Ardenleigh House—and that makes me feel quite excited about the future here.’

‘So that’s a yes, is it?’

He nodded and smiled. ‘Probably. As I said, there are just one or two things I need to clarify, but I think they can be resolved.’

‘Then we’ll need to hammer out some sort of an agreement for the partnership...’ A moment’s misgiving as Christa flicked a glance at his self-assertive face—she could imagine he’d want his own way on quite a few matters, and she certainly wouldn’t give in easily! ‘When can you start? How much notice do you have to give?’

‘I’m due a few weeks’ holiday—I’ll use that in lieu of notice.’

‘What about your stuff—won’t you have to go back and pack?’

He shrugged. ‘I travel light so I’ve brought all I need. I’ve a friend who’ll arrange to have things shipped out if I need them.’

Christa bit her lip. Was she being foolish, leaping into work with someone she knew nothing about? Then she gave a mental shrug. The man was here and available and she was desperate for help, and in any case how could she stop him? She’d just have to hope he was efficient.

‘I’ll see you, then, in a week, with the proviso of a six months’ probationary period to see if it works, and that we’ll be equal partners. I’ll put it in writing.’ She looked at her watch and stood up. ‘I’ve got to fly and see my mother. I usually pop in on a Sunday evening.’

‘Your mother still lives in the area?’

‘Oh, yes. She has a little flat near me and she loves it there. She’s made a good life for herself since my father died.’

Christa got up and Lachlan went with her to the door. It was getting dark now and the courtyard light made deep shadows against the walls. Drops of rain had started to fall, and there was a soft, sweet smell of damp earth on the cool air. Autumn was on its way, and soon the soft purple heather and greens of the glens would be replaced by sparkling frost and snow on the hills.

He’d missed those definitive seasons, and although he’d had a ball in Australia, there had been times when a certain tune, the waft of scent of the sea, or a Scottish voice passing him on the street, would stir a longing in him to be back in Errin Bridge. He should have come back before, he thought sadly, and not allowed his stubborn nature to dictate his life.

Titan, standing beside Christa, suddenly stiffened, the hackles on his neck rising. Then he gave a low growl before breaking into a cacophony of barking.

‘What is it, old boy? Calm down...’

Titan took no notice and suddenly darted across the yard, still barking at full pitch.

‘There’s someone there,’ said Lachlan in a low voice, putting a restraining hand on Christa’s arm. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns out to be one of your pesky thieves.’

CHAPTER TWO

THEY STOOD FOR a moment on the doorstep, looking towards the barns, the outside light from the surgery casting a beam across the courtyard and the ladder that Lachlan had been using. It was raining heavily now and the sound of it drummed on the roof and made huge puddles across the yard.

Then above that sound there was a muffled crash as if something heavy had fallen. A scream came from one of the outbuildings, and a hooded youth ran out into the beam of light, the raindrops silver as they landed on his frightened face. He looked wildly around and then darted back into the building. Titan barked excitedly and rushed after him.