think we should make sure Kate’s patient list for the afternoon surgery doesn’t run over.’
Kate’s chin came up, disbelief widening her gaze. Dammit. What on earth did O’Connor think he was doing? She didn’t need him advocating for her. She could fight her own corner. ‘That happened only on Monday,’ she pointed out thinly. ‘And the circumstances were extraordinary.’
Aiden blinked. Her angry little thrust as she turned towards him revealed the creamy skin of her throat and upper chest. He felt his body grow hot, imagining the tip of his tongue traversing that same silky skin. He blinked the thought away as if it had the power to rear up and bite him. ‘I just think your special needs should take priority.’
Special needs? Kate pursed her lips disapprovingly. Where did he get off making a loaded comment like that? He’d made her sound like some kind of basket case.
‘I’m sure Kate will speak up if she needs any change in her surgery hours,’ Brady came in smoothly. ‘Right, Kate?’
Kate sent him a grateful nod, temporarily unable to find words.
‘Good, good.’ Always the mediator, Angelo was brisk, gathering up his notes. ‘I’m on call at the after-hours clinic over the weekend. What about the rest of you—Brady, any plans?’
‘Nah.’ Brady leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming a lazy tattoo on the tabletop. ‘Staying close to home.’
Aiden chuckled. ‘Figures.’ He arched back, raising his arms in a long stretch. ‘What about you, Kate? What kind of weekend do you have planned?’
As if he cared. And it was none of his business anyway. Kate felt like poking her tongue at him. But that would have been totally juvenile. She jerked a shoulder in a careless shrug. ‘Cleaning the house and doing the laundry will be high on my agenda.’
‘Riveting stuff, then,’ he said.
She shot him a look, certain she hadn’t imagined the trace of boredom in his tone. Well, nice for some. He didn’t have kids to consider when he made his weekend plans. ‘What about you, then, Dr O’Connor?’ she asked. Not that she cared.
‘I’m going sky-diving. Should be a good day for it.’
Kate’s insides froze. A good day for what—killing himself? She felt sick to the stomach, drowned in a thousand memories. Scooping up her notes, she got to her feet. ‘Um—excuse me. I have to collect my children.’ Suddenly she needed to fill her lungs with good, clean air.
Frowning, Aiden watched her almost run from the room. He gave a short humourless laugh and shot a wordless query at his male colleagues.
‘Kate’s husband was killed in a sky-diving accident,’ Brady supplied gruffly.
‘Oh, God …’ Aiden’s breath of disbelief hitched to a halt. ‘Why did no one tell me?’ He shot a pained look at the two men.
‘Kate and I had a quiet chat after her appointment had been confirmed,’ Angelo looked contrite. ‘She told me then.’
‘And I found out from Jo,’ Brady said. ‘She and Kate have become friends.’ He looked at Aiden and gave an apologetic open-handed shrug. ‘Sorry, mate. I thought you would have known.’
Saturday.
How long was a fair time to grieve? Kate wondered as she placed the last of the breakfast dishes in the drainer. It had been three years and surely now it was time to stop. A stray sunbeam burst through the open window, catching the fine gold of her wedding ring.
Was that a sign? she wondered. Perhaps, to be fully free so she could move forward, the ring had to go.
Her breath almost stilled as she eased the wedding band from her finger. Happy-go-lucky Cory. She’d loved him with all her heart. She couldn’t imagine falling in love again, let alone going to bed with someone other than Cory. She cast the rather desolate thought away. Hadn’t she just convinced herself it was time to move on?
Being outdoors seemed like a plan, she thought, going out onto the deck that overlooked the back garden. The kids were happily engaged. Luke was bouncing his soccer ball off the brick wall that separated the garage from the garden, while Mia had staked out a strip of the concrete path and was playing a game of hopscotch.
Well, she’d take a leaf out of her children’s book, Kate thought. She’d get cracking on the garden. She had some daisies she wanted to thin out and replant and there was bound to be some weeding that needed doing.
Ignoring the thump, thump of Luke’s ball, Kate got to work with her trowel. The smell in the air was simply glorious, she mused as she hacked her way through the clumps of daisies. A sweet pungency drifted up from the earth and while Kate worked, two leaves of gold and brown fluttered down beside her. Finally, she was done, stripping off her gloves and flexing her fingers thankfully.
But there was still one more job she had to do. The lower hinge on the lattice gate of the little fern house was hanging by a thread.
Exhaling a small sigh of resignation, she inspected her meagre supply of tools, finally selecting a screwdriver that might do the job. Squatting beside the gate, she began to work on replacing the screw. ‘Oh, blast!’ she muttered as the recalcitrant bit of metal fell sideways onto the grass.
‘What are you trying to do?’
Kate felt a ripple along her spine, like a bird sensing a predator. She’d have known that voice anywhere. She didn’t look up. ‘What brings you by, Aiden?’
‘Just passing. Thought I’d call in.’
And if she believed that, she’d believe there was a practical use for chocolate teapots.
‘Here give it to me,’ he said, hunkering down beside her and holding out a long-fingered hand.
Kate gritted her teeth, slapping the screwdriver into his palm like a surgical instrument. She jerked upright, her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders under the black T-shirt as they flexed to give his arms more impetus, putting the final twist on the large metal screw.
‘General maintenance should be part of your lease,’ Aiden said, uncoiling upwards beside her. ‘Where’s your landlord?’
Kate huffed a derogatory laugh. ‘Out of the country mostly.’
‘Bummer.’
He chuckled softly and Kate felt as though she’d been dipped in a vat of warm, rich chocolate. Her heart did a few skips and she looked away hastily. ‘I thought you were going sky-diving’.
‘That was at five o’clock this morning,’ he dismissed. ‘I’ve been up for ages.’ A beat of silence. ‘Are you OK?’
She looked at him then, caught by the sincerity of his tone. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
His blue eyes hazed for a moment. ‘Yesterday … after the meeting. You were upset. My fault, I think. My remarks were thoughtless.’ He gave a self-deprecating half-smile. ‘Anyway … my sincere apologies.’
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. You weren’t to know. Perhaps I overreacted anyway.’
