made you decide to give Medicine For All a go?’ Chase asked as they walked out of the secure area.
‘I’m getting tired of locum work. I start to feel settled and then have to pack up and leave again. Jarrod suggested MFA and how I might fit in. Once I started delving into the organisation I knew I had to give it a go and contacted Liam.’ The director had been effusive when she’d volunteered. Though again she’d be moving on afterwards.
* * *
Fit in. Chase studied the slender woman before him. Get under his skin, more like. His brother-in-law had been chuckling when he’d told Chase how Kristina Morton was perfect for the summer operation in the Mediterranean. Yes, he’d known who’d put her up to signing up and until now had had no problem with it. All doctors were welcome any time. But now Chase had to question what fates had put this doctor on this mission. ‘You want to get away from GP work?’
Her laughter was soft and sweet, and stirred him. Not that he wanted to be stirred by a beautiful woman. Or any woman. He’d put her where he put any female who managed to tweak his interest—out of his mind.
‘Not at all.’ Her shrug was tight. ‘It’s just that I would like something permanent, somewhere to get to know people beyond their headaches and high blood pressures.’
Good. The complete opposite from him. ‘You like ships? Being at sea, getting tossed around in storms?’
Another shrug. ‘Wouldn’t have a clue, but I’m about to find out.’
There was more to this. For someone who wanted permanence she seemed to move around as much as he did. Not that he was about to ask her about it. That spoke of being interested and getting involved. Not his thing. ‘Liam’s a great advocate for our organisation. Without him we wouldn’t get half the volunteers that sign up.’ If not for Liam, who knew where he’d be working right now? For all he knew, it could’ve been in Africa, Asia, New Guinea, anywhere there were lives that needed to be saved. That was his mission in life. Not that he’d ever make up for the loss of his best friend, Nick, but he would keep trying. One day the guilt might run out. Might.
‘I didn’t stand a chance once he started in on me,’ the woman matching his strides admitted. Then her eyes went a bit sad.
He wasn’t asking about that either. They’d reached the security gate. ‘Yours?’ He nodded at a pack and roll mat the guard held out.
‘Thanks.’ She stretched for them.
‘I’ll take those.’ Chase reached out at the same time. His fingers skimmed across hers before wrapping around a shoulder strap on the pack. A jolt of heat caught at him. Spinning sideways, he swung the pack over one shoulder and hooked the mat under his arm then headed for the ship, ignoring Kristina and the inferno in his blood. That was the second time he’d felt the heat around her.
Unfortunately she kept up with him. ‘I don’t expect you to carry my gear.’
Chase stopped as quickly as he’d taken off. ‘I’m not trying to show you up as incapable. I’m exercising the manners I was taught as a lad.’ If not in the polite way his father expected.
‘It’s just...’ She hesitated, seemed to be thinking how to say whatever was bothering her. ‘I’m ex-army. No one ever carries your pack there.’
He’d read in her CV about Kristina being ex-military. And the evidence was in front of him in her upright, controlled deportment—and apparently in her determination to carry her own pack. Because she’d heated his blood and stirred him with her soft laugh, he was going to rock her boat. ‘You’re not in the army now. I’ll carry these to the ship.’
‘Fine.’ Her mouth drifted up into a lazy smile, stirring him tighter. He should’ve walked right past the blasted gear and its owner. It was as though she was poking him with sharp pins to wake him up from a long, deep sleep. But he wasn’t asleep and as far as he could tell Kristina hadn’t come armed with anything sharp, except maybe her tongue.
Chase pulled on his co-ordinator’s hat; only way to go. ‘I saw in your CV that you’ve worked in quite a few different medical jobs.’
The smile slipped away slowly, painfully. The light that had begun shining in her eyes faded. ‘I have.’
Again, there was more to this than the simplicity the words suggested. If she wasn’t saying anything else it had to be that something had happened to affect her badly. He’d respect that, because he understood too well about keeping fears close, and pain closer. Suddenly he wanted her smile to return. ‘On board we tend to treat one another kindly, no ordering anyone to do anything.’
Her nod was abrupt. ‘Good.’
Try again. ‘The refugees are going to love that calm manner you showed with Antoine.’
‘That’s me. Calm throughout a crisis, a bit rocky afterwards.’
‘No one would know that from helping Antoine.’ There. A subtle lifting of those lips he’d have missed if he hadn’t been watching for it. His heart lightened. Then her perfume wafted across his nose and he pictured pine cones on the fire at home. Pine and roses. Yes, the strange mix that was home was this woman’s scent. A scent he was not going to get out of his senses in a hurry. They’d just met, and she’d found a way to get under his skin already.
It didn’t bode well for his sanity when they’d be crammed together for weeks with all the other medical staff in the small spaces that were the ship’s medical facilities. They’d probably end up hating the sight of each other. It happened. There was little privacy, no space to think without being interrupted. Having no alone time did a number on everyone, especially on those used to their own company; like himself. Something about how Kristina held herself, self-contained, suggested she’d fit into that group.
Chase began striding towards the ship again. ‘I think most people have arrived.’ He automatically scanned the people at the gangway. And tripped. Ethan Reid stood at the bottom of the gangway, looking directly at him.
Chase’s heart began a low thump, thump. So much of who he’d become was tied up in that man. And Nick.
The past charged at him in waves, winding him, curdling his stomach, raising the fear of not being able to save those he loved, bringing ice and snow pushing away the warm summer air, suffocating him. Death. Not his. Nick’s. The crippling guilt.
I can’t do this.
Yes, he could. He had no choice. He’d been the one to put out the feelers, asking Ethan to step up to the promise he’d made way back then. If ever you need me, call.
Right now Chase rued that phone call, even though it had been about helping others. But it was done. He needed to start moving forward, towards Ethan, the man he had saved instead of Nick, and the hideous past they needed to dispel, or at least subdue so they could work together. Would they be able to talk about what had happened that fateful day in the Alps? About why certain people had survived when others hadn’t? Why Nick had died, and Ethan had survived? Why he’d had to make that choice about who to save even when there really was no choice? Turning his back on Nick as the last breaths left his body had haunted him ever since, and made him go over it again and again looking for a way to change the outcome.
‘Chase? Are you all right?’ Kristina’s question seemed to come from miles away. Her
