let me loose on your patients, then?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Emma felt a curious lightening of her spirits. To be able to share her workload, even for a few hours, would be wonderful. ‘I’ll give you the ones who like a good chat.’
‘I guess I asked for that.’ Declan’s look was rueful and he uncurled to his feet. ‘I’ll grab a burger somewhere and my bag and be back in—’ he checked his watch ‘—twenty minutes?’
Swept along by his enthusiasm, Emma stood hastily. ‘Take whatever time you need.’ She began to usher him out. ‘You can use Dad’s consulting room.’
Declan stopped, looked down at her, his expression closed. ‘If you’re sure?’
Emma nodded, leading him down the corridor to the room next to her own. She opened the door and went in.
Declan followed hesitantly. Soft early afternoon light streamed in through the windows, leaving a dappled pattern across the large desk and the big leather chair behind it. A big chair for a big man, Declan thought. A man with a big heart that had in the end let him down far earlier than it should have.
‘It’s been cleaned but basically everything is as Dad left it.’ Emma moved across to touch the tips of her fingers to the rosewood patina of the desktop.
Declan felt emotion drench him. Yet he knew what he felt at the man’s loss was only a fraction of what his daughter must be feeling. He spun to face her, questioning softly, ‘Are you sure about this, Emma?’
‘Quite sure. It will be good to see the place being used again.’ The words were husky, as though she was pushing them through a very tight throat.
Declan wanted to reach out to her. Hold her close. Feel the press of her body against his. Take her grief into himself…Oh, for crying out loud! He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll see you back here, then, in a half-hour or so.’
‘Feel free to come straight through and get yourself set up,’ Emma said as they left the consulting room and she pulled the door closed. ‘I’ll just need to make a call and verify your registration before you take surgery.’
Declan inclined his head, acknowledging her eyes were clearly weighing the effect of her statement on him. He gave a mental shrug. As far as his accreditation went, he had nothing to hide. ‘Good,’ he agreed. ‘You should do that.’
‘And I’ll brief Moira,’ Emma added. ‘She’ll make sure the patients find you.’
‘Moira.’ Declan lifted a dark brow. ‘The lady I spoke to in reception, right?’
Emma nodded. ‘She’s been with us for years. I sometimes think she could treat most of the patients herself.’ Her eyes lit impishly, her full mouth hooking into a half smile.
The impact of that curve of her lips hit him like a sandbag to the solar-plexus. He flicked back the edges of his jacket, jamming his hands low on his hips. ‘Let’s try to push through early, then.’ He paused, his blue gaze roaming over her in an almost physical caress. ‘We do need to talk, Emma.’
For a second Emma felt as though she could hardly breathe, his proximity sending a warm rush of want to every part of her body. Feminine places she’d almost forgotten existed. She pulled back, regaining her space. ‘We’ll arrange something…’
Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, it was good to be back in a consulting room with his feet under a desk again, Declan thought. At least he was doing something useful and if it lasted no more than the rest of the day, he’d give it his best shot.
He was amazed how the time flew. He saw a steady stream of patients, each without exception with a comment about his presence in the practice. He’d answered as honestly as he could, ‘I’m helping out Dr Armitage for the moment.’ And whether that situation became permanent still depended on so many things. So many.
He called in his final patient for the day, Carolyn Jones. She looked anxiously at Declan. ‘I was expecting to see Emma—Dr Armitage.’
‘Emma’s passed some of her patients over to me today, Mrs Jones,’ Declan offloaded with a cheerful smile. ‘I’ll do my best to help.’
Carolyn gripped her handbag more tightly. ‘I…really just wanted a chat…’
‘That’s fine,’ Declan encouraged, leaning back in his chair, his look expectant. ‘I’m here to listen.’
‘I want to go back on my sleeping pills. I’ve tried to do without them for a couple of months now but I just can’t manage—’ Carolyn stopped and swallowed heavily.
For a second Declan considered a quick consult with Emma. But she had enough on her plate. He could handle this. He leaned forward, speed-reading the patient notes.
The lady was sixty-one but there was nothing leaping out at him to warrant extra caution. He raised his gaze, asking, ‘Is there a reason why you can’t sleep, Carolyn?’
‘I’ve a difficult family life. Emma knows about it—’
‘I see. Suppose you tell me about it as well and see how we go?’
Carolyn lifted her shoulders in a long sigh. ‘My husband, Nev, and I are bringing up our three grandchildren. Their ages range from seven to ten.’
‘Hard going, then,’ Declan surmised gently. ‘What circumstances caused this to come about?’
Carolyn gave a weary shrug. ‘The whole town knows about it. Our son was a soldier serving overseas. He was killed by a roadside mine. Our daughter-in-law, Tracey, took off and then got in with the wrong crowd. Started seeing someone else. She was always a bit flighty.’
Declan raised his eyebrows at the old-fashioned word.
‘She’s with this new boyfriend now. We’ve heard they’re into drugs. I don’t understand how she could just dump her children…’
Declan’s caring instincts went out to his patient. But, on the other hand, there were strategies she could try that might induce natural sleep—
‘The children are still unsettled, especially at night,’ Carolyn said, interrupting his train of thought. ‘I just can’t get off to sleep and then I’m useless the next day.’ She paused and blinked. ‘I’ve really had enough…’
So, crisis time then. Declan thought quickly. As a general rule, sleeping pills were prescribed in small doses and only for a limited time-span. But his patient sounded desperate—desperate enough to…He got to his feet. ‘Carolyn, excuse me a moment. I’ve been out of the country for a while. I’ll just need to recheck on dosage and so on.’
Declan came out of his office the same time as Emma emerged from hers. Her brows flicked in question. ‘Finished for the day?’
‘Not quite.’ He accompanied her along to reception. ‘Actually, I wanted a word about a patient, Carolyn Jones.’
‘The family have ongoing problems,’ Emma said quietly.
‘I gathered that.’ Declan backed himself against the counter and folded his arms. ‘Carolyn wants to go back
