change. One he had accepted a long time ago that he would live with for the rest of his life. And to be spending any time thinking about a woman other than his late wife was ridiculous.
But as much as he fought the distraction, he couldn’t control his wandering thoughts.
He wondered for a moment what life had dealt Juliet. Just being a surgeon would have provided struggles along the way. He had found the study and workload gruelling and he was not raising a child alone. Whether or not her status as a single mother was recent he was unsure. She looked to him like a waif but she had the fire and fight of someone a foot taller and he assumed she would have faced life head-on. His wife had been similar in stature but very different in demeanour and profession. She was quietly spoken, and a local Cotswolds girl who managed a craft shop in town. She spent hours quilting and running the little store that doubled as a social hub for the local community.
Charlie doubted that Juliet would have any interest in quilting. But it bothered him greatly that questions about the woman holding her daughter had suddenly and unexplainably captured his thoughts.
He was grateful that Juliet had been distracted by the nurse coming back and looked away. For some unfathomable reason he was struggling to do just that. The woman before him was nothing close to the stoic surgical specialist he’d been expecting and he was shocked at just how much he had noticed about her in such a short space of time.
And he was angry and disappointed with himself for doing so.
Juliet forced herself to blink away her wandering thoughts. Charlie Warren was nothing close to what she’d been expecting. His white consulting coat covered black dress jeans and blue striped shirt. He was still wearing his black motorcycle boots. The combination of the leather and gunmetal hardware of his boots was both edgy and masculine. It had to stop. She had not flown to another hemisphere to find herself distracted by the first handsome man she met. First handsome, arrogant man who would be her work colleague for the next few weeks.
She felt butterflies slowly returning just knowing he was so close to her. Close enough to reach out and touch her. Not that he would…nor would she want that, she told herself sternly. But it was as if she could see there was something more to the man who had rudely stood her up and then berated her for inattention to her daughter. Was his brash exterior a shield? She wasn’t sure as she tried in vain to analyse the ogre. Perhaps it was the way he had rushed to Bea. As a man and as a doctor, he had not hesitated to help Juliet’s daughter. He had lifted her into the safety and strength of his arms the way a father would. The way Bea’s own father never would and the way no man other than her grandfather up until that day had done.
But it was romantic nonsense. He was just the tall and not so dark—more dusty blond—handsome stranger of happily ever after stories that she knew didn’t really exist.
There wasn’t anything more to this man, her practical self was saying firmly and resolutely despite how her body was arguing. He wasn’t even nice let alone the type to sweep her off her feet. He was far too brusque and cold. What was going on in her tired mind? she wondered. It had to be international time difference setting in. Most definitely. It couldn’t be anything else stirring her thoughts into chaos. She needed a good night’s sleep and all would be as it should be. And she would be looking at her colleague as just that, a colleague. And if his strong, borderline obstinate opinion about her plans on surgical intervention with the quadruplets’ mother remained, they would in fact shift from colleagues to adversaries.
She took solace in the idea that their differing opinions would add another protective layer to the armour she wore very comfortably.
‘Hmm-hmm…’ Juliet coughed. ‘I said I’m happy there’s no need for a closed reduction.’
‘That makes two of us,’ he replied, turning back to the radiographic films.
‘So there’ll be no intervention to realign the bones, just a cast as we already discussed, then?’ Juliet continued as she fought to keep her thoughts professional.
‘It’s standard practice to give the arm a few days in a sling to allow swelling to subside,’ Charlie explained to everyone in the room. ‘But I’m concerned at Bea’s age she may cause further damage if we don’t protect the fracture with a cast. There’s a marginal amount of swelling around the fracture site but not enough to warrant risking further damage by allowing it to be without protection.’ He then asked the nurse to prepare for the cast while three medical students, who had quickly become part of the furniture, continued listening intently. The nurse moved swiftly, while the medication still kept Bea’s pain at bay. ‘And we need pink. That is the colour you want, isn’t it, Bea?’
Bea looked up and nodded.
‘Then pink it is,’ he told her. The nurse helped Juliet to carefully roll up Bea’s long-sleeved top that she had worn underneath the woollen jacket that was still under Juliet’s arm.
‘You were all layered up, weren’t you, young lady?’ the nurse commented with a smile. ‘Rugged up for our chilly winter?’
Bea nodded and watched as her mother and the nurse worked gently to lift the clothing free so the cast could be applied.
‘It’s a nice loose top so it should roll down again afterwards, but the jacket will never fit so we’ll have to just rest that over her shoulders and go shopping for a cape,’ Juliet mentioned as she dropped the little coat on the nearest chair.
Charlie began the process of applying the cast, explaining to Bea in simple language every step, while also including a short tutorial for the students’ benefit as they stood observing the process from the sidelines. Juliet listened to the way he spoke so tenderly to her daughter and she felt the flutter of the annoying butterflies emerging once again. She hated the feeling but she was unable to control it. His manner and tone to Bea made him appear almost fatherly. She sternly told herself it had to be his standard bedside manner…but she wasn’t completely convinced.
‘Applying a cast is quite a simple procedure,’ he began as he turned his attention to the students. ‘I’ll begin by wrapping several layers of soft cotton around the injured area. Today I’ll be applying a short cast that extends from the wrist to just below the elbow as the break is a distal radial fracture so extending further than that would cause unnecessary discomfort to the patient.’ Charlie worked at wrapping Bea’s tiny injured arm, and as he spoke the fibreglass outer layer was being soaked in water. Gently he wrapped the fibreglass around the soft first layer. ‘While the outer layer is wet at the moment, it will dry to a hard, protective covering. I’ll make some tiny incisions in the cast to allow for any potential swelling.’
In less than thirty minutes, Beatrice Turner was the proud owner of a pretty pink cast. And her mother could not help but be impressed with the way in which Dr Charlie Warren had attended to her daughter, executed the delicate procedure and managed to deliver a tutorial to the students. All the while continuing to look devastatingly handsome. She shook herself mentally and tried to remind herself of his initial overbearing attitude. But it was difficult when he was displaying such empathy to the little person she loved most in the world.
‘Now you need to rest this arm quite still for about an hour, Bea,’ Charlie said. ‘The nurse will keep an eye on it and we’ll leave your top rolled up for the time being.’
Bea just looked at the cast. Her eyes told the story. They were filled with confusion. It had been an overwhelming experience for her and she wasn’t taking in much of what was being said at that moment.
‘And
