Her Hot Highland Doc. Annie O'Neil
Brodie closed the outside door and rubbed his hands together briskly, his body taut with energy, as if someone had just changed his batteries.
He had a lovely voice. All rich and rolling r’s and broguey. If he weren’t so cantankerous... She tilted her head to take another look. Solid jawline, arrestingly blue eyes bright with drive, thick hair a girl could be tempted to run her fingers through.
Yup! Brodie McClellan ticked a lot of boxes. He might be a grump, but he didn’t strike her as someone cruel. In fact he seemed rather genuine behind the abruptness.
She envied him that. A man who, in a split second, came across as true to himself. Honest. Even if that honesty was as scratchy as sandpaper. Her eyes slid down his arms to his hands. Long, capable fingers, none of which sported a ring. Huh... A lone wolf with no designs on joining a pack.
She shook her head, suddenly aware that the lone wolf was speaking to her, though his eyes were trained on his watch.
“So...you’ll want to get a move on. I’ll just put the kettle on and see you in a couple of minutes so I can talk you through everything, all right? Doors open soon.”
He turned into a nearby doorway without further ado. Seconds later Kali could hear a tap running and the familiar sound of a kettle being filled.
Note to self, she thought as her lips twitched into yet another smile, civilities are a bit different up here.
None of the normal How do you do? I’m Dr. fill-in-the-blank, welcome to our clinic. Here’s the tea, here’s the kettle, put your name on your lunch if you’re brave enough to use the staff refrigerator, and we hope you enjoy your time with us, blah-de-blah-de-blah.
Dr. Brodie McClellan’s greeting was the sort of brusque behavior she’d expect in an over-taxed big-city hospital. But here in itsy-bitsy Dunregan, when the clinic wasn’t even set to open for another...she glanced at her waterlogged watch...half hour or so... Perhaps he wasn’t too young to be eccentric. She was going to go with her original assessment. Too honest a human to bother with bog standard social niceties. Even though social niceties were...nice.
A clatter of mugs on a countertop broke the silence, followed by some baritone mutterings she couldn’t make out.
Well, so what if her new colleague wasn’t tuning up the marching band to trill her merrily into her first shift? She’d faced higher hurdles than winning over someone who had obviously flunked out of Charm Academy.
Kali leaned against the wall for a minute. Just to breathe. Realign her emotional bearings. She closed her eyes to see if she could picture the letter inviting her to come to Dunregan. She’d been so ridiculously happy when it had arrived. With so much time “at sea” it had been a moment of pure, unadulterated elation. When the image of the letter refused to come, she pulled her phone out of her pocket so she could pull it up from her emails.
The screen was cracked. Shattered, more like it.
Of course it is! shouted the voice in her head. It’s the least you deserve after what you’ve done. The trouble you’ve caused your mother. Your little sister.
She pressed her hands to her ears, as if that would help silence the voice she fought and fought to suppress on a daily basis.
She huffed a sigh across her lips and looked up to the ceiling. Way up, past the beams, the tiled roofing and the abundance of storm clouds was a beautiful blue sky. And this...? This rocky, discombobulated start was one of those things-could-only-get-better moments. It had to be. This was her shot at a completely fresh start. As far away from her father’s incandescent rage as she could be.
“Kali, are you—” Ailsa burst into the corridor. “Darlin’, did Brodie just leave you standing here in your wet clothes? For heaven’s sake. You would’ve thought the man had been raised by wolves!”
* * *
An eruption of colorful language burst forth from the kitchen as Kali eyed the long-sleeved T-shirt from a three-years-old charity run. That and a pair of men’s faded track pants were all Ailsa had managed to rustle up.
“Brodie’s,” Ailsa had informed her.
Her first instinct had been to refuse, but needs must and all that...
Kali stopped for a moment as the soft cotton slid past her nose and she inhaled a hint of washing powder and peat. A web of mixed feelings swept through her as the T-shirt slipped into place boyfriend-style. Over-sized and offering a hint of sexy and secure all at once. She shook her head at her dreamy-eyed reflection in the small driftwood-framed mirror.
It’s a shirt! Get over it.
“When are we going to get this blasted kettle fixed?”
Blimey. Had the walls just vibrated?
“Cool your jets, Brodie. For heaven’s sake, it’s not rocket science. You do know how to make a cup of tea, don’t you?”
Ailsa’s voice whooshed past the bathroom as she went on her way to the kitchen, her tone soothing as the clink and clatter of mugs and spoons filled out the rest of the mental image Kali was building.
“Stop your fussing, will you?” Brodie grumbled through the stone walls.
“Let me have a look,” Ailsa chided, much to Kali’s amusement. Then, after a moment, “I’ll need to get some dressing on that, Dr. McClellan.”
“Oh, it’s Dr. McClellan now I’m injured, is it?”
“Brodie. Dr. McClellan. You’re still the wee boy whose nappies I changed afore you jumped up on my knee, begging me to read you stories about faeries and cowboys over and over, so hush!”
Kali’s smile widened as the bickering continued.
Local Doctor Defied by Feisty Kettle:
Nurse Forced to Mollify GP with Bedtime Stories.
Was that the type of story the local newspaper would run? The population on Dunregan wasn’t much bigger than some two thousand or so people, and if memory served she was pretty sure that number accounted for the population surge over the summer months. The hospitable months.
“For heaven’s sake, Ailsa! Stop your mithering. I don’t need a bandage! It’s not really even a burn!”
“Well, that’s a fine way to treat your head nurse, who has twenty years experience on you, Brodie McClellan!”
Kali chalked one up to Ailsa.
“But it’s a perfectly normal way to treat my auntie who won’t leave well enough alone!”
Brodie’s grumpy riposte vibrated through the wall. Kali was relieved to hear Ailsa laugh at her nephew’s words, then jumped not a moment later when a door slammed farther along the corridor. Crikey. It was like being in a Scottish soap opera. And it was great! No-holds-barred bickering, banter and underneath it all a wealth of love. The stuff of dreams.
Her family had never had that sort of banter—Stop-stop-stop-stop-stop. Kali deftly trained her hair into a thick plait as she reminded herself she had no family. No one to bicker with, let alone rely on. Not anymore.
Turn it into a positive, Kali.
The other voice in her head—the kind one, the one that had brought her out of her darkest moments—came through like the pure notes of a flute.
There’s always a bright side.
Good. Focus on that. Turn it into a positive... Not having a family means I’m free! Unencumbered! Not a soul in the world to care about me!
The familiar gaping chasm of fear began to tickle at Kali’s every confidence.
Okay. Maybe a positive mantra was going to be elusive. For today. But she could do it. Eventually. And realistically there was only one mantra she really needed to focus on:
K.I.C.K.A.S.S. Keep It Compassionate, Kind and Supremely Simple.