was his wife. Wife, mother, midwife and—Ryan sighed—friend. She was a loyal, caring friend.
In the two years he’d been living on the island she’d done everything she could to end his hermit-like existence. It had been Evanna who had dragged him into island life, and Evanna who had insisted that he help out when the second island doctor had left a year earlier.
He hadn’t been planning to work, but the work had proved a distraction from his thoughts, as she’d guessed it would. And it was different enough from his old job to ensure that there were no difficult memories. Different had proved to be good. The shift in pace and pressure just what he’d needed. But, as grateful as he was to his colleague’s wife for forcing him out of his life of self-imposed isolation, he refused to go along with her need to see him in a relationship.
There were some things that wouldn’t change.
‘Hi, Dr McKinley. You’re up early—’ A pretty girl strolled over to him, her hair swinging over her shoulders, her adoring gaze hopeful. ‘Last night was fun, wasn’t it?’
‘It was a good night, Zoe.’ Confronted with the realities of living as part of a small island community, Ryan chose his words carefully. This was the drawback of living and working in the same place, he mused. He was her doctor. He knew about her depression and the battle she’d had to get herself to this point. ‘You looked as though you were enjoying yourself. It was good to see you out. I’m glad you’re feeling better.’
He’d spent the evening trying to keep the girl at a safe distance without hurting her feelings in front of her friends. Aware that her emotions were fragile, he hadn’t wanted to be the cause of any more damage—but he knew only too well how important it was to keep that distance.
‘I wasn’t drinking alcohol. You told me not to with those tablets.’
‘Probably wise.’
‘I—’ She pushed her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans, slightly awkward. ‘You know—if you ever wanted to go out some time—’ She broke off and her face turned scarlet. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Millions of girls want to go out with you, I know. Sorry. Why would someone like you pick a screwball like me?’
‘You’re not a screwball.’ Ryan wondered why the most difficult conversations always happened at the most awkward times. The ferry was docking and he was doing a consultation on the quay, within earshot of a hundred disembarking passengers. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she was trying to step over a line he never allowed a patient to cross. ‘You’re suffering from depression, Zoe, and that’s an illness like any other.’
‘Yes, I know. You made me see that.’ Painfully awkward, she rubbed her toe on the hard concrete of the quay. ‘You’ve been great, Dr McKinley. Really great. I feel better about everything, now. More able to cope, you know? And I just wondered if—’
Ryan cut her off before she went too far and said something that couldn’t be unsaid. ‘Apart from the fact I’m your doctor, and I’d be struck off if I said yes, I’m way too old for you.’ Too old. Too cynical. ‘But I’m pleased you feel like dating. That’s good, Zoe. And, judging from the way the men of Glenmore were flocking around you last night, you’re not short of admirers, so I think you should go for it. Pick someone you like and get yourself out there.’
Her wistful glance told him exactly who was top of her list, and she gazed at him for a moment before giving a short laugh. ‘You’re refusing me.’
‘Yes.’ Ryan spoke firmly, not wanting there to be any mistake. ‘I am. But in the nicest possible way.’
Zoe was looking at him anxiously. ‘I’ve embarrassed you—’
‘I’m not embarrassed.’ Ryan searched for the right thing to say, knowing that the correct response was crucial both for her self-esteem and their future relationship. ‘We’ve talked a lot over the past two months, Zoe. You’ve trusted me with things you probably haven’t told other people. It’s not unusual for that type of confidence to make you feel a bit confused about your own feelings. If it would help, you can change doctors.’
‘I’m not confused, Dr McKinley. And I don’t want to change doctors. You’ve got such a way with words, and I’ve never known a man listen like you—I suppose that’s why I—’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I will date one of those guys.’ She smiled up at him. ‘That archaeologist who’s hanging around this summer is pretty cool.’
‘Interesting guy,’ Ryan agreed, relieved that she didn’t appear to be too heartbroken by his rejection.
‘What about you, Dr McKinley? Why are you waiting for the ferry? Are you meeting a woman?’
‘In a manner of speaking. Our new practice nurse is arriving today. Reinforcements.’ And he had a favour to ask her. He just hoped that Jennifer Richards was a big-hearted woman.
‘A new nurse?’ There was a wistful note to Zoe’s voice. ‘Well, I know Nurse Evanna needs the help. So what’s this new nurse like? Is she young?’
‘She’s coming with her teenage daughter.’ Why had Evanna wanted him to meet her? That question played on his mind as he watched the ferry dock. It could have been an innocent request, but he also knew that his colleague was obsessed with matching people up. She wanted a happy ending.
Ryan felt the tension spread across his shoulders. He knew life didn’t often offer up happy endings.
Zoe’s face brightened. ‘If she has a teenage daughter, she must be forty at least. Maybe even older.’ She dismissed the competition. ‘Well, the ferry is on time, so you’re about to meet your nurse.’
Shaking the sleep out of his brain, Ryan watched as a patchwork of people flowed off the ferry. Businessmen in suits, families clutching bulging beach bags, toddlers in pushchairs. A slightly overweight, middle-aged woman puffed her way towards him carrying a suitcase.
He didn’t know whether to be relieved that Evanna clearly hadn’t been matchmaking or disappointed that their new practice nurse didn’t look fit enough to work a hard day at the surgery. ‘Jennifer?’ He extended a hand. ‘I’m Dr McKinley. Ryan McKinley. Welcome to Glenmore Island.’
The woman looked startled. ‘Thank you, but I’m Caroline, not Jennifer. I’m just here for a week with my husband.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards a sweating, balding man, who was struggling with a beach umbrella and an assortment of bags, one of which popped open, spilling the contents onto the quay.
‘Oops. Let me help you—’ A slim girl put down her own suitcase, stepped forward and deftly rescued the contents of the bag, her pink mouth curving into a friendly smile as she stuffed everything back inside and snapped the bag firmly shut.
Ryan’s gaze lingered on that mouth for a full five seconds before shifting to her snaky dark curls. The clip at the back of her head suggested that at one time her hair had been fastened, but it had obviously made an escape bid during the ferry journey and was now tumbling unrestrained around her narrow shoulders. She was pale, and there were dark rings under her eyes—as if she hadn’t had a decent sleep in months. As if life had closed its jaws and taken a bite out of her.
He recognised the look because for months he’d seen it in his own reflection when he’d looked in the mirror.
Or maybe he was imagining things. Plenty of people looked tired when they first arrived on
