I wondered if it would help if I started on a part-time basis this week—I could get to know the ropes, and if I came with you on one or two visits it would familiarise me with the area again, after so long away.’
Of course it would help. Christa had been sleepless for many nights, wondering how she could cope with the work that was piling up. But she wasn’t so sure that being close to Lachlan Maguire was a good thing so soon after her experience with him the night before. She’d rather have liked that episode to fade into the past.
‘Oh, I don’t think there’s any need to—’
‘I think that’s a great idea,’ interrupted Ginny. ‘You’ve been working yourself to a frazzle over the past weeks, Christa. You accept any help that’s offered!’ She turned to Lachlan. ‘Visits are usually done around midday to two o’clock after morning surgery.’
Dear Ginny—she was like a mother hen where she, Christa, was concerned, and she’d been marvellous when Isobel had died, staying late to reorganise surgeries, bringing Christa meals to eat at the surgery. But sometimes she was just a little too fussy!
‘Right!’ Lachlan said briskly. ‘I’ll be back, then. See you later.’
When he’d gone, Alice turned to Christa and said accusingly, ‘You misled us there! You said he wasn’t bad looking...’
‘Well?’ asked Christa innocently.
‘You ought to go for an eye test...he’s absolutely gorgeous!’
‘Beauty,’ said Christa grimly, as she picked up a pile of blood results and went towards the door, ‘is in the eye of the beholder!’
‘Quite so,’ agreed Ginny tersely, as she reached out to answer the phone.
‘Will you listen to yourselves?’ demanded Alice in disbelief. ‘I can tell you, that man’s made my pulse go into overdrive! You two must be made of stone!’
* * *
Lachlan stood for a moment before he got into the car and looked back towards the surgery, amusement flickering across his face. So Christa Lennox wouldn’t get married for a million pounds—even to George Clooney! What the hell had brought that on, a bad experience perhaps?
He grinned to himself. It was a delicious irony that she should say that she wouldn’t marry at any price, when one of his mother’s ridiculous suggestions in her letter to him had been that he should get married. And that, of all people, Christa Lennox should be the bride!
Well, that was one proposition that wouldn’t be fulfilled! He was damned if he’d be manipulated by his mother from beyond the grave, however much he regretted her death and wanted to atone for his quarrel with her.
CHAPTER THREE
‘COME ON, TITAN! In you get!’
Titan sprang into the boot of the car and stood up with his front paws on the back seat, looking around eagerly.
‘He seems to enjoy going out on visits,’ remarked Lachlan as he folded himself up to fit in Christa’s little car.
‘Oh, he’s spoilt rotten—all my regulars seem to love him, especially at our first port of call. Fred was a shepherd and misses his sheepdog dreadfully. She died only a few months ago, so he loves to spoil Titan.’
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