Stormbound Surgeon

CHAPTER FOUR

JOSS returned to the hospital to find Charlotte was sleeping. Amy was taking her obs as he walked into her room. She had her white coat on over her clothes again and he thought again how strikingly attractive she was. Once she was out of those dreary clothes…

Maybe he could get Daisy onto that, too.

But Amy was smiling and he thought, Why bother? She was gorgeous enough as she was.

Luckily, Amy wasn’t into mind-reading. She was concentrating on her patient. ‘She’s hardly stirred.’

‘She’s due for some pain relief.’ He took the chart and wrote up what was needed-and then he hesitated. ‘I suppose we have the necessary drugs…’

‘Because we’re isolated I have permission to run a limited pharmacy. I have what’s needed.’

He shook his head in appreciation. ‘This is an amazing nursing home.’

‘It is,’ she said without any false modesty. ‘But didn’t I have you trapped at home?’

‘My father and Daisy came to the rescue. I am currently driving Daisy’s pink Volkswagen.’

She grinned. ‘I bet your dad’s relieved. He might be in love but even he blanched when she had it spray-painted pink.’

‘Bertram took one look and elected to stay at home.’

‘Wise dog.’

‘But I thought I might be needed here.’

‘So you decided to brave even a pink Volkswagen. What a man!’

She was laughing at him. He liked it, he decided. He definitely liked it.

‘Maybe I’m not needed,’ he said, moving on but not without a struggle. ‘Things are looking good here. The baby’s still fine?’

‘Yep. She’s in the sitting room with the oldies. My nursing staff decided that while her mother slept they could babysit.’

‘So we have…twenty babysitters?’

‘At least. Charlotte will be lucky if she gets her daughter back. Talk about a case of collective cluck.’

‘I wonder who she is.’

‘I wonder.’ Amy followed his gaze to the sleeping mother. ‘She looks exhausted.’

‘But she’s not a local?’

‘I’d reckon every single one of our residents managed to get a look at her on the way in and no one recognises her.’

‘Her truck looks like a farm truck.’

‘And that’s what she looks like. A farmer. Her hands…they’re work hands.’ She lifted the girl’s fingers gently from the counterpane. Joss saw and thought that they had matching hands. The stranger’s hands were work-worn but so were Amy’s. Both women knew how to work hard.

‘She’ll tell us soon enough when she wakes.’

‘I’m not sure.’ Amy was still watching the girl’s face. ‘She woke for a little but she seems…she seems almost afraid.’

‘There’s nothing to be afraid of here.’

‘Apart from being cosseted to death. What a place to have a baby. There are no fewer than five sets of bootees and matinée jackets being knitted as we speak.’

‘Fate worse than death.’

‘As you say.’

They left Charlotte sleeping and made their way to Amy’s office. Charlotte was nicely stable and the baby was doing beautifully. There was no reason for him to stay, but Joss made no move to leave.

There wasn’t a good reason for him to leave, Amy figured, remembering where he was going home to. So she might as well make use of the man.

‘How do you feel about checking Rhonda Coutts’s lungs?’

‘Rhonda Coutts?’

‘I think she might be building up to pneumonia. She had a fall last week and spent a few days on her back. She’s up now but she’s coughing and she’s weak. As the Bowra doctor can’t get through…well, would you check her?’

‘Sure.’ Rhonda Coutts’s lungs. Well, well.

He was a surgeon-one of the top in his field. It had been a long time since he’d been called on to advise about the possible pneumonia of an elderly patient with no surgical background.

She sensed his hesitation. ‘Would you feel competent…?’

He bristled. ‘Hey, of course I’m competent.’

‘I only thought…well, with you being a surgeon you might have…’

‘Forgotten?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Insulting, huh?’

‘No. It’s fine.’ He was still bristling. ‘Lead the way to Mrs Coutts.’

‘I have a real live doctor on tap. For a week, if I’m lucky. What I won’t be able to achieve in a week…’

Kitty, Amy’s secretary, was staring at her as if she was demented as Amy danced in to fetch Mrs Coutts’s medical records. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

But Amy was practically whooping on the spot as she planned ahead. ‘Mr Harris’s ingrown toenails. Ethel Crane’s eczema. Martin Hamilton’s prostate. They can all be seen here. Now.’

Martin’s prostate was the best one. The Bowra doctor was a middle-aged woman and Martin wouldn’t consent to speaking to her about his prostate, much less let her examine him. ‘With a doctor right here, I can solve all these problems in one fell swoop.’

‘But he’s here on holiday,’ Kitty said doubtfully. ‘Do you think he will?’

‘He’s staying at my house.’ Amy’s jubilation faded a little when she thought of that-she’d felt embarrassed to ask him out to the shambles that was her home but the upside was that it put him nicely in her debt. ‘And he’s proud, Kitty. I only have to suggest to the man that he can’t and he will. The man’s a renowned surgeon after all, and he’s a walking ego if ever I saw one, so I don’t see why we can’t use him.’

‘He seems…nice.’ Kitty was still doubtful.

‘He’s a man, isn’t he?’ Amy demanded. ‘Therefore he’s here to be used. And use him I will, for however long I have.’

All the signs were that Mrs Coutts did have pneumonia and as Joss put away his stethoscope she burst into tears.

‘I’m not going to hospital,’ she sobbed. ‘I should never have let you examine me. I’m not leaving here.’

‘You have the odds in your favour,’ Amy said wryly. She sat on the bed and took the elderly lady’s hands in hers. ‘Rhonda, remember the bridge?’

Her sobs arrested as the old lady looked up at Amy-and then burst into tears again.

‘But I’ll die. If I can’t go to hospital…’

Amy gave Joss a rueful grin and hugged the old lady. ‘You know, there is a third choice.’ As Rhonda sobbed on, Amy put her away from her and forced her wrinkled face up so her eyes met her own. ‘Rhonda, look who we’ve got. Our very own doctor, for however long the rain takes to subside. We have a really extensive drug cupboard-all the supplies we need we have right here-and you have your own personal physician.’

Rhonda stared. She hiccuped on a sob, then sniffed and looked up at Joss.

‘He’s as stuck as we are,’ Amy told her, and grinned.

And finally Rhonda smiled.

‘Really?’

‘You’ll look after Rhonda, won’t you, Dr Braden?’ Amy asked submissively, but there was nothing submissive in her twinkle as she looked up at him.

And there was no choice.

‘Yes,’ he said, goaded, but then he looked at the old lady in the bed and thought, Damn, they were all in this together. They were all stuck. And he was sure the X-ray he intended to take would verify she had pneumonia.

‘Of course I will,’ he said in a voice that was much more gentle. ‘How can you doubt it?’

After that he saw Mr Harris’s ingrown toenails, Ethel Crane’s eczema, Martin Hamilton’s prostate and Kitty’s splinter under her thumbnail just for good measure.

‘I’ve been meaning to do something about it for a few days but it’s such a hassle to go to Bowra,’ the secretary told him, blushing as he held her hand and gently examined her inflamed finger. ‘And now Amy says you’re here to be used… I mean she says you don’t mind being doctor…’

Joss caught Amy’s eye-and there was laughter there! She looked like a child caught out in mischief.

She was enchanting, he thought. Enchanting! The more he saw of her the more she had him fascinated.

She was using him for all she was worth.

But even her effrontery had its limits. She helped administer a local anaesthetic to Kitty’s thumb, then watched as he cut a tiny section out of the nail to remove the splinter-he really was an excellent operator, she thought with satisfaction-and then she decided it was time he was dismissed. After all, he’d had a rough day-and she had plans for him in the morning.

‘Maybe it’s time you finished for the day,’ she told him. ‘You’ve been very useful.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Think nothing of it.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘There’s not much to eat at home but if you don’t want to eat with your parents maybe you could grab yourself something from the general store. They’re open until six so you have half an hour.’

Wow, that sounded exciting. He didn’t think.

‘And you?’

‘I’ll eat here.’ It didn’t cost her to eat at the hospital-but she wasn’t admitting that.

‘Do you need to stay here?’ he demanded. By now he’d met Mary-Amy’s second in charge-and had been impressed. Mary was bustling around with starched efficiency, slightly miffed that she’d missed the day’s excitement. She was delighted with the opportunity to be used as an acute nurse and Amy would have no problem leaving all her patients in her charge.

‘I have some office work to do…’

‘No, you don’t,’ Kitty said blithely, as Joss fastened a dressing over her thumb. ‘Amy works too hard, Dr Braden. Make her go home.’

‘Tell you what,’ he suggested. ‘I’ll stop at the store and cook for both of us.’

‘You?’

‘Me.’ Once again she’d caught him unprepared and he reacted with ego. ‘I can cook, and I need to do something to pay for my lodging.’

‘I think you’ve done enough. One Caesarean. A healthy mum, a gorgeous baby and four treated residents…’

And one secretary minus her splinter-who was match-making for all she was worth. ‘I’ll donate a bottle of wine,’ Kitty said blithely, beaming from Amy to Joss and back again. ‘Mum gave it to me because she doesn’t like it-and I can’t think of an occasion more splendid.’

‘Kitty-’

‘More splendid than a welcome to Iluka’s new doctor.’

‘Hey, I’m only here until it stops raining,’ Joss said uneasily, and Kitty beamed.

‘Then long may it keep raining.’

‘Keep your wine to stop you thinking about your thumb,’ Amy suggested, and Kitty shook her head.

‘Nope. I’ve been thinking about my thumb for four days now and suddenly it’s better.’

‘The anaesthetic hasn’t worn off,’ Joss warned, but Kitty would have none of it.

‘Go on. Shoo, the pair of you. Have a wonderful night.’ And as she pushed Amy out the office door and closed it after them she was crossing every finger and every toe. ‘For a change,’ she said.

Amy didn’t go home at once. ‘I’m not travelling in a pink Volkswagen even if you are,’ she told Joss. ‘And besides, I want my car at home. I’m not leaving it here.’

She wanted her independence. She certainly didn’t want to be stuck out at White-Breakers with no way of getting back here but to be driven by Joss. So she sent him homewards and did a bit of busy work around the place-and finally popped in to see Charlotte.

The young mother was just waking. Marie was still on watch, and Mary was hovering nearby. Amy signalled them to disappear for a while. Charlotte should be up to talking but the last thing she wanted was a crowd.

‘Feeling better?’

Charlotte gave her a wan smile. Her baby was sleeping beside her in a makeshift cot made out of a filing cabinet drawer and a television stand. It served the purpose, however. The little one looked blissfully content.

‘I am…a bit.’

Amy pulled up a chair and smiled sympathetically at the new mother. ‘You can say you feel lousy if you feel lousy.’

‘OK, then. I feel lousy.’

‘Dr Braden’s written you up for pain relief. You can have something now.’

‘I’ll wait a while. I’m having enough trouble as it is, getting my head around…what’s happened.’

‘Is there someone you’d like us to contact?’ Amy asked her gently. ‘Someone must be worried about you?’

‘No.’

That was blunt. ‘You’re really on your own, then?’

‘Yes.’

Amy hesitated but then pressed further. There was a pallor about the girl’s face that spoke of deep-seated misery-not just the shock of the day’s events. ‘Charlotte, can I ask why you were in Iluka?’

‘I came here…looking for someone.’

‘And did you find him?’

‘Her.’ She closed her eyes. ‘And yes. Yes, I did.’

‘So you do know someone in Iluka.’

‘No one who wants to know me.’

‘Charlotte, can I help you?’ Impulsively Amy reached out and took the girl’s hand. No one should be alone like this-especially when she was hurting so badly. And the pain wasn’t just from the head wound and the effects of the Caesarean. The pain was soul deep. ‘Let me close,’ she urged. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’

‘No.’ The girl’s face was shuttered and closed and she pulled away her hand.

Amy backed off. The last thing she wanted was to put more pressure on her. ‘OK. I’m here if you want me.’

‘How long am I stuck?’

‘The river’s in full flood. It may be up to a week before there’s access, but you need a week in bed anyway. For now you must lie back and let your body recover-for your daughter’s sake if not for your own.’

The girl looked down at her sleeping baby and her face twisted in something that was close to despair. ‘She is beautiful, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she is.’ Amy looked down at the perfect little girl and she could only agree. ‘Have you thought of what you might call her?’

‘I… I need to speak…’

‘To her daddy?’

The girl’s face closed and she bit her lip. ‘No. I don’t need to speak to him. I can make up my own mind.’ She chewed her lip for a little and then looked again at her daughter. ‘What do you think of Ilona?’

‘Ilona?’

‘It’s Hungarian for beautiful.’

‘Then it’s perfect.’ Amy put a finger down and traced the soft curve of the baby’s cheek. ‘Ilona. It’s just right.’

‘It’s sort of… I mean, she was born in Iluka. Iluka-Ilona.’

‘Then it’s even more perfect.’

The girl’s face flushed with pleasure and she smiled. For the first time Amy saw her as she could be-a truly beautiful woman. ‘You really think so?’

‘I really think so.’ She rose. ‘You need to sleep now but, before you do, can I bring you the telephone? Isn’t there someone you want to contact?’

‘I don’t-’

‘I’ll bring you the phone anyway,’ Amy told her, stepping in before she refused entirely. ‘Then when there’s no one else around, you can make up your own mind who you want to tell about Ilona.’

Amy came out of the room and found Joss waiting. He was leaning against the wall of the corridor with his arms crossed, looking like a man prepared to wait for however long it took. He looked like a man waiting for his wife to try on a dress, she thought suddenly. He had just that proprietorial air.

The thought was stupid. Nonsense. She brought herself up with an inward jolt. ‘I thought I sent you home.’

‘I don’t always go when I’m sent.’ He grinned down at her and another image sprang to mind-a half-grown Labrador who’d just brought her the next-door neighbour’s newspapers. He was pleased and guilty all at the same time.

He made her want to smile.

‘You realise we don’t have anything to eat now,’ she said, trying to sound cross. ‘The general store closes at six and there’s nowhere else.’

‘Hey, I’ve been and come back,’ he told her, wounded. ‘I have a car full of supplies. I’m not silly. And I am hungry.’ Then his smile faded and he looked toward the closed door of Charlotte’s room. ‘Any joy?’

‘She’s not saying anything.’

‘Her name’s Charlotte Brooke. The police sergeant got that from her plates. He just rang in with the information. She lives on the other side of Bowra.’

‘She’s a long way from home, then.’

‘Sergeant Packer wants to know whether he should check out the address-just in case someone’s frantic about her.’

‘She doesn’t want anyone told.’

‘And if someone reports her missing?’

‘We’ll worry about it then.’ Amy frowned. ‘But what do you think? Do we respect her need for privacy?’

‘It seems to me,’ Joss said slowly, ‘that if she wants privacy and a few days’ thinking time-time out to come to terms with everything that’s happened to her-then maybe we should respect that. It might be just what she needs. She’s not suicidal?’

‘No.’ Amy thought back to the girl’s face as she’d looked down at her little daughter. ‘She’s falling deeper in love with her daughter every minute. I don’t think she’s making any plans to abandon her. She’s named her Ilona.’

‘Ilona…’ Joss ran it over his tongue and smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘So do I.’ Amy smiled up at Joss and suddenly thought, Wow! This felt good. It felt right-that she should smile up at him. There was some connection… Something she didn’t really understand.

And she liked it that he’d come back. He was as concerned as she was about Charlotte, she thought, and that felt good, too.

But what on earth was she thinking of? She had no links to this man. As soon as the weather eased he’d be off.

She didn’t want friendship.

Or rather-she did but she knew only too well that it’d hurt when it finished. As it had hurt leaving every friend she’d ever made outside the tiny population of Iluka.

‘Are you ready to go home?’ he asked. He was still smiling. She had to give herself an inward shake to escape the vague feeling of unreality. The feeling that here was sweetness she could sink into…

‘Um… I’m still not travelling in your pink Volkswagen.’

‘Daisy will be hurt.’

‘Daisy will never know.’

‘That you chose your wreckage-mobile over her fine automobile?’

‘There are some choices that are easy,’ she retorted, and turned her back on him to head for the car park. But part of her was thinking, Some choices are way too hard.

Joss followed her out to White-Breakers and she was aware of him following her every bit of the way.

Why on earth had she asked him to stay? she wondered. She could have insisted he stay with his father and stepmother. It would have been far less complicated.

But then he might not have felt obligated to donate his professional services…

He would have stepped in anyway, she thought. Joss wasn’t a man to stand back and watch while the likes of Kitty suffered with a splinter under her thumb.

He was a thoroughly nice man.

No. He was a darned sight more than that.

He was gorgeous!

Oh, for heaven’s sake. She was engaged, she thought savagely. Malcolm was in the wings. OK, Malcolm lived at Bowra and she didn’t see him all that often but that didn’t leave her any less engaged. Any less committed.

She was committed to Malcolm. She was committed to Iluka. Sometimes she was so darned committed that she wanted to scream.

Amy drove into her nine-car garage and Joss drove in beside her. The two crazy little cars looked incongruous in such a setting. This garage had been built to house stretch limos or Mercedes at the very least. Not one Just-On-Wheels and a pink Volkswagen.

At least it was better than empty, she thought. She found she was looking forward to tonight. Sharing the kitchen-such as it was-with Joss and his lovely dog.

Maybe she should get a dog.

Yeah. And buy dog food with what?

Six more years…

‘Damn you,’ she told her departed stepfather for what must be the thousandth time. ‘But I’m sticking with this. You won’t win completely.’

Then Joss was climbing out of his Volkswagen, his arms laden with carrier bags, and she forgot all about her stepfather. Because who could think of a mean old man while Joss was here?

‘Do you want help to carry them?’ she asked. Food. Real food! No soup and toast tonight. How wonderful!

Joss looked at her face and he grinned. Taking a woman out to a five-star restaurant had never felt so good.

‘I’ll carry them,’ he told her. ‘Otherwise I have a feeling they might be demolished by the time they reach the kitchen.’

She’d offered to help carry the bags. Joss had refused her offer and it was just as well. She’d have dropped the lot when she saw what was in front of her. She led the way, pushed open the kitchen door and stopped dead.

What…?

Daisy was some organiser, Joss thought with wry appreciation as he looked around the transformed kitchen. Wow!

Before it had seemed empty. Now it was almost too full.

Amy had given Joss a key and Joss had left it with Daisy when he’d returned to the hospital. In the time he’d been away it looked as if the whole town had paid a visit.

With furniture.

There was a dining table and twelve chairs. An overstuffed settee. About five squashy armchairs. A huge rich Persian carpet. A colour television, a stereo, a couple of standard lamps. A wide oak desk.

The room was enormous and now it looked as it should. The furniture was old-fashioned and mismatched but it was comfortable and good quality. Daisy had chosen with care and she’d obviously had a lot to choose from!

‘What…?’ Amy was practically speechless. She walked forward in disbelief.

‘I wonder if they’ve done the bedrooms yet,’ Joss mused. He walked out along the corridor, opened the doors and checked. ‘Yep.’ Two of the bedrooms-the one Amy had been using and the one she’d designated his-were now fully furnished. They both had new beds, complete with luxurious bedclothes. More armchairs. Dressing-tables, wardrobes, bedside tables…

There was even a big squashy dog-bed at the foot of his bed. Bertram was already ensconced, looking up with doggy satisfaction as Joss entered. He rose and waggled his tail, but his sleepy demeanour said he’d been entertained very well-he’d had a very busy afternoon supervising all this activity.

‘This is fantastic.’ Joss smiled his appreciation as his dog loped over for a pat. ‘They’re fantastic.’

‘Um…’ Amy had walked into the bedroom behind him. She looked as if she’d been struck by a piece of four by two and hadn’t surfaced yet. ‘Who’s fantastic?’

‘The combined residents of Iluka. When I told Dad and Daisy how you were living…’

‘You told them?’

‘Of course I told them.’

‘You had no right,’ she said, distressed. ‘Joss, this is my business. How I live.’

‘You spend your time looking after the town. It’s about time the town looked after you.’

‘But this furniture… I can’t keep it.’

‘Of course you can.’

‘You don’t understand.’ She was close to tears, he thought. Her hands were pressed to her cheeks, as if fighting mounting colour. ‘Trevor and Raymond and Lysle…’

‘Who are Trevor and Raymond and Lysle?’

‘My…my stepfather’s nephews.’

‘Ah.’

‘I can’t accept this,’ she told him. ‘I can’t keep anything.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘The nephews… My stepfather left me nothing. Have you any idea what the land tax is on this place?’

‘I can guess.’ In truth, he knew. Thanks to his father. The phones in Iluka had been running hot all day.

‘And the land tax on the land beneath the nursing home?’ she was saying. ‘The overheads?’ Still she was pressing her face. ‘The nephews took everything I didn’t own personally, and anything I do own has to be sold to keep the bank happy.’

‘So what does that have to do with this?’

‘I can’t accept. Even if I did I’d have to sell-’

‘This isn’t a gift,’ he said gently. He took her shoulders and steered her back to the kitchen. Bertram was shifting his sleepy body to the rug before the range and she thought suddenly, It’s warm. It’s warm!

But Joss was still speaking. ‘Everyone at Iluka has moved here from somewhere else,’ he told her. ‘It’s a retirement village so most people have built houses that are smaller than they’re used to. Daisy says there’s hardly a retiree who doesn’t have something that they can’t bear to sell but that doesn’t fit easily into their new home. So this furniture is on loan. For as long as you need it.’

‘But I can’t-’

‘You can. Hell, Amy, you work your butt off for these people. Allow them to repay it a little.’

‘But…’ She stared wildly around and focussed on the stove. There was a kettle on the hob, gently hissing steam. ‘How long have you had the stove on? And the heating? I can’t afford to pay for all this.’

‘The heating’s my lodging fee,’ he told her. ‘It’s self-interest on my part. I have a conference paper to write and I don’t like being cold. So I rang up the gas board and gave them my credit-card details. There’s at least a six-month supply of gas been credited to your account. You can’t use my rent to pay unimportant things like land tax. Oh, and speaking of land tax…’

‘Yes?’ She was so dazed she could hardly speak.

‘My father’s been on to Jack Trotter, the Shire President. The councillors had an emergency meeting this afternoon-in your kitchen.’

‘Here?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t believe this.’

‘You should have let them know. Amy, they were horrified to see how you were living. The whole district wants to help. They voted unanimously to waive land tax on White-Breakers and the nursing home for the next six years. Retrospectively. They can’t backdate it any more than a year but last year’s tax will be refunded.’

Amy was practically speechless, but she was becoming angry. ‘Joss, this is none of your business. I should never have let you near the place.’

‘Then that would have been a great shame. I’m sorry to have to tell you this but your time as a martyr is over.’

He was enjoying this, she thought. A genie granting three wishes couldn’t have looked any more placid than Joss Braden.

‘You can’t…’

But he was smiling. ‘I already have.’ He pulled a cheque from his pocket and handed it over. ‘Mrs Hobbs from the general store asked me to give this to you. I gather she’s the Shire treasurer.’

She looked down at the figure on the cheque and gaped. ‘This is crazy. And as for you paying the gas… You know I didn’t intend charging you rent. You mustn’t.’

‘It’s been done,’ he said virtuously. ‘You try getting refunds from the Gas Corporation. Good luck is all I can say.’

Heat. She had heat. She had furniture. And enough money for essentials.

She had Joss, and a dog.

‘Now to dinner,’ he told her, lifting her chin with one long, strong finger. ‘Bertram’s hungry, even if we’re not. Are you hungry?’

She couldn’t take it all in. All she could absorb was the question.

Was she hungry?

‘I’m starving,’ she told him and it was the truth. She was.

‘Good. Let’s eat.’

It was the strangest meal. Joss had brought one of Mrs Hobbs’s famous beef pies, and he had side dishes to match. Amy ate as she hadn’t eaten for months-no, years-and all the time Joss watched her with that curious look of complacency.

‘You look like a Scout who’s just received his knot certificate-and I’m your very tricky knot,’ she complained, and he grinned.

‘I can see that. A knot, huh? Would you like some lemon meringue pie? Mrs Hobbs threw it in free.’

‘Does the entire population of Iluka see me as their do-a-good-deed-to-Amy project?’ she asked cautiously, and his grin widened.

‘Don’t knock it. It’ll be a damned sight more comfortable than the way you’ve been living for the last four years. Why no one did anything about it…’

‘Yeah. You come sweeping into town-’

‘Guns blazing.’

‘Ego blazing,’ she retorted, and he chuckled.

‘Egos are good for something. Does Malcolm have an ego?’

‘Malcolm?’

‘Your fiancé.’

‘I know who Malcolm is,’ she snapped. ‘And, no, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t have an ego.’

‘That’s why he hasn’t come to the rescue of his maiden in distress.’

‘I’m not in distress.’

‘You are. Or you were. You know, a knight in shining armour with ego to match can sometimes be a very good thing. He gets things done.’

‘Because he rides roughshod over people.’

‘I haven’t ridden roughshod over anyone,’ he said gently, and her indignation took a step back. OK, he hadn’t. Or…he had but in such a way…

‘Um…’

‘Wrap yourself around your lemon meringue pie,’ he told her kindly. ‘We don’t want to upset Mrs Hobbs, now-do we?’

‘No.’ Of course she didn’t.

But it wasn’t Mrs Hobbs she was thinking of.