a different reason.
But if holding her once had been a mistake, twice would be fatal.
And he was still married—or probably still married, even if he hadn’t seen his wife for five years.
Did that matter?
Of course it did.
He could hardly start something that she might think would lead to marriage if he couldn’t marry her.
So forget a hug.
‘We can’t run the mine,’ he said, far too bluntly because now a different confusion was nagging at him.
She shook her head in irritation.
‘Then we’ll just have to think of something.’
He had to agree, if only silently. The continued survival of the hospital—in fact, of all the health care in the islands—depended on support from the mine.
‘I imagine once we know what’s happening we can find someone who can,’ he said, reluctantly drawn in and now thinking aloud. ‘Some of the local men have worked there since it opened, or if they’re not still there we could find them. We want men who trained under Peter Blake or maybe beg Peter to come back.’
‘And pay him how?’ Caroline demanded.
Keanu held up his hands in surrender.
‘Hey, you’re the one who wanted to think of something. I’m just throwing out ideas here. You can take them or leave them.’
He saw the shadow cross her face and knew he’d somehow said the wrong thing.
‘Is that how you felt about me back then? That you could take me or leave me? Yes, Ian obviously hurt your mother, but what did I do to you to make you cut me out of your life?’
She was angry—beautiful with anger—but he stood his ground, then he leaned forward and touched her very gently on the cheek.
‘You were never right out of my life, Caro,’ he said quietly, his hand sliding down to rest on her shoulder. Momentarily. He turned and walked swiftly back down the track, not wanting her to see the pain her words had caused written clearly on his face.
But she was right. He had come back to see what he could do to save the hospital, and saving the mine should have been the obvious starting place.
But joining forces in this crusade would mean seeing more of her, working with her outside hospital hours, feeling her body beside his, aware all the time of the effect she had on him, aware of her in a way he’d never been before, or imagined he ever would.
Physically aware of the one woman in the world who was beyond his grasp—the woman whose trust he’d betrayed when she’d been nothing more than a girl …
Caroline watched him stride down the path, long legs moving smoothly and deliberately over the rough track, stance upright, broad shoulders square …
Was it just the length of time since they’d seen each other that was making things so awkward between them, or was Keanu still brooding over whatever had happened to make him stop writing to her? Even stop reading her letters …
‘Bother the man,’ she muttered to herself, climbing the steps and wandering through the house towards her bedroom.
Her bedroom. Still decorated with the posters of the idols of her teenage self.
Of course, with Ian gone, she could have the pick of any of the six bedrooms in the house, but her room felt like home, even if home was an empty and lonely place without Keanu in it. Helen and Keanu. Their rooms had been in the western annexe, but the whole house had been her and Keanu’s playground—the whole island, in fact.
Stupid tears pricked behind her eyelids as memories of their youth together—their friendship and closeness—threatened to overwhelm her.
Pulling herself together, she ripped the posters off the walls. One day soon—when she’d done the things she really needed to do, like visit the mine, she’d find some paint and redo the room, maybe redecorate the whole house, removing all traces of the past.
Except in your head, a traitorous voice reminded her.
But she’d had enough of traitorous voices—hadn’t one lived with her through most of her relationship with Steve?
She’d learned to ignore it and could do so again.
Although, with Steve, maybe she’d have been better off listening to it. Listening to the whisper that had questioned his protestations of love, listened to the niggling murmur that had questioned broken dates with facile excuses, listened to her friends …
Had she been so desperate for love, for someone to love her, that she’d ignored all the signs and warnings?
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, get with it, girl!’ she said out loud, hoping to jolt herself from the past to the present.
There was certainly enough to be done in the present to blot out any voices in her head.
Work was the answer. Nursing at the hospital, and during her time off finding out exactly what had been happening on the island.
THE PREVIOUS EVENING Hettie had disappeared by the time Caroline had finished talking to Jack, so she wasn’t sure if she was employed or not. Deciding she had to find out, she walked down to the hospital at seven-thirty the next morning.
It was already hot and the humidity was rising. Jack’s mention of cyclones had reminded her that this wasn’t the best time of the year to return to the island—although she’d spent many long summer holidays here and survived whatever the weather had thrown at her.
Hettie was in a side ward with the patient she’d brought in the previous evening, and it was, Caroline decided, almost inevitable that Keanu would be with her as she examined the wound.
‘Will you have to cut away the ulcerated tissue?’ she asked, walking to the other side of the bed and peering at the ulcer herself.
Hettie looked up, beautiful green eyes focussing on Caroline.
Focussing so intently Caroline found herself offering a shrug that wasn’t exactly an apology for speaking but very nearly.
‘I came down to see if you had work for me to do—a slot in the roster perhaps, or some use you could put me to?’
Hettie was still eyeing her warily, or maybe that was just her everyday look. She was neat—a slim figure, jeans and a white shirt, long dark hair controlled in a perfect roll at the back of her head—and attractive in a way that made Caroline think she’d be beautiful if she smiled.
‘What do you know about Buruli ulcers?’ Hettie asked, and, breathing silent thanks for the instinct that had made her look them up on the internet, Caroline rattled off what she’d
