Annie O'Neil

Her Hot Highland Doc


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shook off the thought. His father had been neither bitter nor vengeful. It had been his fathomless kindness and understanding that had driven the stakes of guilt deep into Brodie’s heart.

      “Hmm...”

      Kali’s green-eyed gaze remained steady apart from a blink or two. Could she see the inner turmoil he was fighting? Filial loyalty over a need to cut loose? To forge his own path.

      Kali’s voice, when she finally spoke, was completely neutral. “Guess they did leave that bit out.” She considered him for a moment longer. “I am presuming you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t had the all clear so...it does beg the question: what am I doing here if you’re good to go?”

      “Ah, the mysteries of life in Dunregan begin to reveal themselves.” This was the part that rankled. The part where Brodie found himself slamming doors, spilling boiling water and leaving unsuspecting GPs with their muck-covered bicycles by the side of the road on a stormy day.

      “Some of—most of the patients are concerned...about being seen by me.” Total honesty? All of them. Fear of catching Ebola from Ol’ Dr. McClellan’s son had gripped the island.

      Or...the thought struck him...maybe they had simply preferred his father and were using the Ebola scare as an excuse to refuse his treatment. Now, that hurt.

      He cleared his throat. One step at a time.

      “Even though you’ve had the all clear?” Kali’s voice remained impartial. She was fact gathering.

      “Right. Apparently most folk round here don’t put much faith in the Public Health Office’s green light.” He snorted derisively. “And to think of all the viral infections I’ve treated here. Rich, isn’t it?”

      He stopped himself. He was going to have to check the bitter tone in his voice. Yeah, he was angry. But he was hurting much more than he was spitting flames. And to add on moments like these—moments that reminded him why he wanted more than anything to live somewhere else. Oh, to be anonymous!

      “I’m going to presume, as someone who has also taken the Hippocratic oath, that you wouldn’t have returned to your practice until you felt well and truly able to.”

      Despite himself, he shot her a look. One that said, Obviously not. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so blinking frustrated.

      “Don’t shoot the messenger, Dr. McClellan! I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check with you.”

      “Fair enough.”

      And it was. It just felt...invasive...being questioned again. And by someone who hadn’t been through the post-Ebola wringer as he had.

      Kali might be a fully qualified GP, but her face was unlined by personal history. With skin that smooth, no dark circles under her eyes, excited to be working in Dunregan... She had to be green around the ears.

      “What are you? Two...three days out of med school?”

      She looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. The rod of steel reasserted itself.

      “Old enough. Apart from which, I don’t really think that’s any business of yours.”

      “No.” Might as well be honest. “You just look—”

      “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She all but spat the words out, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. “Baby-faced.”

      “Not exactly what I was going to say,” Brodie countered. Arrestingly beautiful would’ve been more accurate. Her smooth skin was entirely unweathered by life, but now that he was paying more attention the wary look in her eyes spoke of wisdom beyond her years.

      “Well...” She adopted a tone one might use for toddlers. “I’m a fully fledged grown-up, just like you, so you can rest easy, Dr. McClellan.”

      “Brodie,” he countered with a smile.

      He was warming to Kali. The more they spoke the more it seemed they might be two of a kind. Quick to smart when someone hit the right buttons. Slow to trust. A well-earned friendship if you ever got that far.

      “Well, guess you’re just lucky. Good genes from your parents, eh?”

      She stiffened.

      More sensitive territory, from the looks of things. Maybe her relationship with her family was as terrific as the one he had with his. One wayward brother, a meddling auntie and a godsend of a niece who’d stepped in at the reception desk when his “loyal” long-term sidekick had flown the coop. Okay...so they weren’t that bad. But right now he was feeling a bit more me-against-the-world than he liked.

      “So...you were working in Africa...?”

      Score one to Kali for deftly changing the topic!

      “Right, sorry.” Brodie regrouped with a shake of his head. “Okay—long story short: I did the work through Doctors Without Borders who—as I’m sure you will appreciate—have some pretty rigorous safety systems in place for this sort of thing. I was lucky enough to be working in one of the newly built facilities. Upon my return to the UK...” he glanced at the date on his phone “...which was about five weeks ago, I went to a pre-identified debriefing under the watchful eye of Public Health England.”

      “PHE? I know it.” Kali nodded for him to continue before noticing Ailsa coming down the corridor, her arms laden with patient files.

      “Oh, Dr. O’Shea! Glad to see you in some dry clothes. If you’d just like to hang yours on the radiator in the tea room at the back there—where we came in—they should be dry in no time. I’ll see about finding you a white coat as well, but folk don’t stand too much on formality here. What you have on now will do just fine.”

      Ailsa squeezed between the pair of them on her way to her office, giving Brodie a bit of a glare as she did. He gave her a toothy grin in return. He knew he was a pain in the bum, but that was what number one nephews were for!

      Ailsa Dunregan was a brilliant nurse. And a vigilant auntie. It meant more than he could say that she hadn’t fled the coop like the rest of his staff. Well, the receptionist. Best not get too hysterical.

      He returned his focus to Kali. All gamine and sexy looking in his castoffs. Who knew a scrubby T-shirt and joggers could look so...rip-offable?

      He gave his head a quick shake. Kali was showing professionalism. Now it was his turn.

      “Okay, the clinic is going to be opening soon so—in a nutshell—there’s a twenty-one-day incubation period. I stayed near a PHE-approved facility and did the following: I took my temperature twice a day, called my ‘fever parole officer,’ did a full course of malaria prophylaxis, because malaria symptoms can mimic Ebola symptoms. Any hint of a fever and I was meant to isolate myself and call the paramedics—like that doctor in New York. Who also got the all clear, by the way,” he added hastily.

      “Where did you do all this?” Kali asked.

      “I stayed in London so that I was near an appropriate treatment center should any of the symptoms have arisen, and I spoke regularly with hospital staff just to triple-check everything I was experiencing was normal.”

      She quirked an eyebrow.

      “It makes you paranoid. Hemorrhagic fever ain’t pretty.” He checked his tone. Kali hadn’t said a word of judgment. She wasn’t the enemy. Just a GP doing her job. His job. Whatever.

      He started over. “Three months in protective gear, vigilant disinfections and then nothing. I’d never realized how often people sneeze on public transport before.” He tried for a nonchalant chortle and ended up coughing. Sexy. Not that he was trying to appeal to Kali on any level other than as a doctor or anything.

      “Right.” Kali took back the conversation’s reins before his thoughts went in too wayward a direction. “I take it you’ve spoken with everyone? The islanders?” she clarified.

      He swallowed. Not in so many words...

      *