his gaze still locked with hers. ‘MacNeil.’
Flora felt as though someone had lit a fire inside her body. She should look away. She knew she should look away but she just couldn’t help herself. There was something in his ice-blue eyes that insisted that she look.
‘That’s right, Mr Murray, the dose is large.’ He listened, his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘Yes, I do know that I’m not treating a horse.’
Flora frowned and mouthed, ‘A horse?’ But Conner merely lifted a hand and trailed a finger down her cheek with agonising slowness.
‘No, believe it or not, I’m not trying to kill him, Mr Murray,’ he drawled softly, his finger lingering near her mouth. ‘I’m treating a case of Lyme disease. If you look it up I think you’ll find that the dose I’ve given him is appropriate … Yes, even in a child.’ He brushed her lower lip with his thumb as he continued to field a tirade from the island pharmacist. ‘Yes, I do remember the incident with the firework. Yes, and the barn—No, I don’t blame you for questioning me, Mr Murray.’ His hand dropped to his side and she sensed a sudden change in him. ‘Of course, you’re just doing your job.’
Finally he replaced the receiver. ‘Apparently it isn’t just the patients who have a problem trusting my judgement.’
His tone was flat and Flora stood still, wanting to say something but not knowing what. ‘It was an unusual prescription.’
‘You don’t need to make excuses for them, Flora.’ Conner straightened and walked towards the door, his face expressionless. ‘You’d better carry on with your surgery. You have patients lining the waiting room.’
She stared after him as he left the room, wanting to stop him. She wanted to say something that would fix things because she sensed that beneath his bored, devil-may-care attitude there was a seam of pain buried so deep that no one could touch it.
The islanders were wary of him, that was true, but what did he think of them?
Remembering Logan’s words, Flora bit her lip. When had anyone given Conner MacNeil a chance? When had anyone given him the benefit of the doubt? Why should he bother with any of them when they’d never bothered with him?
It was going to take more than one or two successful consultations to fill his consulting room with patients because no one believed that Conner MacNeil could be anything but a Bad Boy.
It was going to take a miracle.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE miracle didn’t happen.
A few of the locals reluctantly agreed to see Conner, but the majority refused, choosing to wait a week to see Logan rather than be forced to consult the island rebel.
‘It’s ridiculous,’ Flora told Evanna crossly a week after Conner had arrived on Glenmore. They were sitting on a rug on the beach, watching Kirsty dig in the sand. Finally the wind had dropped and the sun shone. ‘They tell Janet it’s urgent, and then say they’d rather wait than see Conner. I mean, just how urgent can something be if it can wait a week? Frankly, it would serve them right if a bit of them dropped off.’
‘Well, to be fair to them, Conner was a bit wild and crazy,’ Evanna said mildly, picking up Kirsty’s sunhat and putting it back on her head. ‘We just need to give them time to realise that he’s changed.’
‘Time isn’t on our side. Glenmore needs another doctor. A doctor the patients will see! Your baby is due in four weeks,’ Flora reminded her. ‘If the patients don’t stop demanding to see Logan, you won’t get a look-in.’
Evanna sighed. ‘I know. He’s shattered. He used to always get home before I put Kirsty to bed. Now I’m lucky if he’s home before I’m in bed.’ She lifted her face to the sun. ‘It’s hot today.’
‘I gather from Logan that your blood result was all right.’ Flora lifted a bottle of water out of her bag and took a sip. ‘That’s a relief all round.’
‘Yes, I was already immune to chickenpox, so that’s one less problem to contend with.’
Flora was still pondering the problem of Conner. ‘It isn’t as if he’s a useless doctor. He’s brilliant. You should have seen him with Harry Gregg.’ She leaned forward and helped Kirsty ease the sand out of the bucket. ‘There! A perfect castle.’ She smiled as Kirsty clapped her hands with delight. ‘And he’s diagnosed Mrs Ellis.’
‘Yes, she told me he’s given her thyroxine. He certainly seems to know what he’s doing.’
‘So why hasn’t word spread? Why won’t the islanders see him?’
‘Because they see the boy and not the man? I’m guessing, but I suppose they just don’t trust him.’ Evanna hesitated. ‘Apparently Finn Sullivan refused to rent him a yacht a few evenings ago.’
Flora stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, but it’s not all black. I saw Conner kicking a football around with the kids on the beach yesterday. They think he’s so cool. And several women have made appointments to see him, but I don’t think he was too thrilled about that.’
‘He certainly wasn’t.’ Flora brushed sand from Kirsty’s face. ‘He strode up to Janet and said, “I’m not a bloody gynaecologist” or something equally unsympathetic. And Janet pointed out that as we didn’t have a female doctor, he was expected to see female problems.’
‘And what was Conner’s response to that?’
‘I don’t know because he lowered his voice but Janet went scarlet.’
Evanna laughed. ‘I don’t suppose there was much call for gynecology in the army. According to Logan, he was dealing with a lot of trauma. Anyway, it’s time we helped him settle in, which is why I’ve invited him to join us for lunch later.’
Flora’s heart bumped hard against her chest. ‘He’s coming to lunch? I thought it was just your family. Logan, Meg and a few others.’
‘Conner is family. I thought it might be a good idea to remind people of that.’
‘Oh.’ Flora concentrated on Kirsty. ‘Well, that’s great. Really nice of you, Evanna. So we should go back to the house. Start getting ready.’ She rose to her feet and picked Kirsty up. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get the sand off your feet and take you home. Who knows? Your daddy might even be there.’
Conner’s feet echoed on the cracked wooden floorboards and he glanced around him, feeling the memories swirl. The house smelled of damp, but that wasn’t surprising because it had been years since the light and air had been allowed to pour unrestricted through its doors and windows.
He’d always hated this house and nothing had changed. It was as if the walls had absorbed some of the anger and hatred that had been played out in these rooms.
He tried to feel something positive, but there was nothing that wasn’t dark and murky, and he gave a soft curse and strode out of the front door and back into the sunshine, drawing the clear air deep into his lungs.
Just walking into the house had made him feel contaminated.
He
