Snowbound With The Surgeon. Annie Claydon

      ‘Yes. The power goes out from time to time here, so I had an oil-fired stove put in.’ It appeared the questioning wasn’t over quite yet. That was okay, he could ask. Neve had made sure that she could deal with pretty much anything the world chose to throw at her, and she had the answers.

      The touch of humour that twitched at the sides of his mouth suited him. ‘I guess I’ll just stop with the neighbourly concern, shall I?’

      ‘It’s appreciated. But not needed at the moment.’ She hid her smile behind the open door of the larder, reaching for the biscuit barrel and laying it on the table next to the teapot. ‘Help yourself.’

      He took the mug of tea that she slid across the table towards him with a nod of acknowledgement. He seemed… tense wasn’t the word. He seemed watchful, taking in everything around him, as if he needed to keep an eye on the world to keep it spinning. Neve began to wish that she’d found the time to fold the sofa bed back up this morning. Hopefully, any stray underwear would go unnoticed in the candlelight.

      ‘You’re not from around here?’ His attention was fixed on Neve now and, before she could stop it, her hand flew to her hair to smooth it back. ‘The South somewhere?’

      ‘London.’

      He nodded. ‘I must be improving. When I first came here, all I could hear was that everyone had British accents.’

      ‘And you’re from Canada…?’

      His smile had the same sense of discipline about it as all his other movements did. Graceful, economical, and with a sense of purpose about it. And gorgeous.

      ‘Right in one. Most people reckon I’m from America.’

      ‘Actually, Maisie told me. I imagine you’ve got a lot more experience of driving in these conditions than me.’ Best get back to business. That smile, the relaxed, watchful curve of his body was distracting her.

      ‘A bit. It’s a little different at home…’

      ‘Snow’s snow, isn’t it?’

      ‘My Inupiak granny wouldn’t agree with you there. She lived on the ice when she was a child, and could write a book about different kinds of snow.’

      That explained his striking looks. Raven-dark hair that grazed the collar of his thick sweater. Dark eyes and proud cheekbones. ‘So how did you end up in Yorkshire?’

      ‘My other grandmother came from around here. Her family went to Canada when she was a child, but she used to tell me stories about England. I decided to pay a visit and ended up staying.’ He looked at his tea, as if taking a second sip was yet another thing that required a thought-through decision. ‘It’s a good base to travel to Europe from.’

      Neve would have thought that London would be better. But Joe didn’t seem the type to spend much time worrying about what other people thought. ‘You travel a lot?’

      He shrugged. ‘A bit. I’ve seen most of Europe. Africa, Asia.’ He made a small, dismissive movement of his hand, as if this all meant nothing. ‘How long have you been here?’

      ‘Eighteen months.’

      ‘Love at first sight?’

      ‘Eh?’ Suddenly she was falling into the depths of his dark eyes. Not quite love at first sight, but there was definitely something about him…

      ‘You fell in love with this place. Like me.’

      Nothing like that. Yorkshire had been somewhere to run to, and the most lovely thing about this particular location was that it was remote. ‘I’m growing to love it. Maisie’s been very good to me.’

      He nodded. ‘She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she? When she called me, asking for help, there was no saying no…’

      ‘But I thought… Aren’t you a volunteer?’

      ‘Seems I am now.’

      Neve’s heart sank. ‘So Maisie talked you into this. Listen, if you don’t want—’

      ‘It’s okay. I was getting a little cabin crazy doing nothing at home, and I was looking for a way to help. Maisie just saved me some trouble.’ His dark gaze sought hers. ‘I have winter tyres fitted on my four-by-four, and they’ll cope with just about anything. And snow chains, in case we run into any trouble. You’ll be quite safe.’

      ‘I don’t doubt it.’ He didn’t need to reassure her. Maisie had vouched for him, and in any case there was something about Joe. If you were in the habit of trusting people on the basis of ten minutes’ conversation then he’d be the one to pick.

      ‘Maisie said you were covering the north side of the practice’s catchment area.’ He reached over and slid a map out of his jacket pocket, spreading it on the table. ‘Here…’ His finger described a loop.

      ‘Yes, that’s right. We’ve split the practice up into three, and each one of us is covering one section. We’re holding temporary surgeries in church halls and so on for people who find it difficult to get to the main surgery, and taking on all the visits for our own area. Cuts down on the travelling.’

      ‘I imagine you’re still pretty busy, though.’

      ‘Yeah. With only two weeks to go before Christmas…’ She shrugged. ‘Everyone seems to rush for the shops and the doctor’s surgery around now.’

      He nodded, surveying the map thoughtfully. ‘You’ve drawn the short straw, this is some of the most difficult terrain in the area. Couldn’t you have asked to swap with a doctor with more local experience?’

      Neve felt her spine stiffen. One of the reasons she’d come here was to escape being told what she could, and couldn’t, do.

      ‘We each took the area closest to where we live. I can handle it.’

      ‘I dare say you can.’ He flashed her a disarming smile. ‘What time do you want me tomorrow?’

      Six o’clock, with a cup of fresh brewed coffee and a gently warmed croissant. The fantasy was inappropriate on almost every level she could think of, and Neve let it slide.

      ‘If nothing else urgent comes up, I’ll be starting in Leminster at nine tomorrow. I can drive over and meet you there…’

      He shook his head. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.’ He re-folded the map and stood up. ‘I’d better get going now. I’m on my way to the supermarket in town…’

      ‘At this time of night?’

      ‘I promised to pick some things up for someone. Can I get you anything?’ He gestured towards the large, well-scraped jar sitting on the kitchen worktop. ‘Some more peanut butter?’

      He didn’t give up, did he? But she was going to have to stop off at the shops tomorrow if she didn’t ask for more supplies now. ‘Um… perhaps one or two things. If it’s no trouble.’

      ‘No trouble. Give me a list…’

       CHAPTER TWO

      A BOWL OF steaming porridge, a banana that had seen better days, coffee, toast and the last of the peanut butter would be enough to keep her going for the morning. By twenty past eight, Neve had tidied up and folded the sofa bed, and her deliberations about whether it was entirely wise to tidy her duvet away upstairs in the freezing bedroom were interrupted by the sound of a car outside in the lane. She dumped the duvet back onto the sofa and ventured into the hall, peering outside.

      The trees were laden with snow after a fresh fall during the night. Clear blue skies, and sparkling white fields. The landscape had a kind of rugged beauty about it, an implicit challenge to either respect its rules or fall foul of them.

      And talking about rugged beauty…