Healing The Single Dad's Heart. Scarlet Wilson

was that, in some respects, they were all the same.

      It didn’t matter about the facilities, the climate or the time. The smell of disinfectant, the quiet hum of voices and brisk footsteps made him take a deep breath and let the edges of his mouth turn upwards.

      He had missed this. No matter how much he tried to pretend he hadn’t. Joe had wanted to be a doctor since he was a kid, and for the last six months...

      He swallowed. He’d been working. But he hadn’t been enjoying it. He hadn’t loved the job the way he’d once done.

      And even though he knew nothing about this place or these people, this felt right.

      There was a noise to his right. ‘Can I help you?’

      He turned to see a woman at his side. She’d spoken English to him. She could obviously tell he wasn’t from around here. ‘I’m supposed to meet Nguyen Van Khiem, or Nguyen Van Hoa,’ he said, trying to say the names in the right order. ‘The two doctors that run this place.’

      As he spun around to face her, she caught sight of the bundle in his arms. ‘Oh,’ she said, taking a step back in surprise. She blinked then took a breath.

      For a second the air was still between them. He could see the surprise on her pretty face. He obviously wasn’t quite what she’d expected. But as his eyes took in her dark hair and eyes, the barest hint of make-up and straight white teeth, he realised that this wasn’t quite what he’d expected either. His mother had told him the hospital was run by an older couple with fifty years of experience between them.

      The woman spoke. ‘You must be the new doctor. Khiem and Hoa told me you should arrive today.’ She tilted her head as she tried to catch a look at Regan, who was snuggled into his father’s shoulder. ‘This must be... Regan, isn’t it?’

      Now he was intrigued. Who was this woman who’d obviously paid attention to the new arrival?

      She was a little shorter than him, with shiny dark brown hair tied back with a clip at her neck. She was wearing a pink shirt and black trousers that showed off her neat waist.

      She held out her hand towards him. ‘I’m Lien—one of the other doctors that works here.’ Her smile was broad and reached her dark eyes. He must have been looking at her curiously because she filled in the blanks. ‘Dang Van Lien,’ she said, giving her name in full. ‘But the people around here just call me Dr Lien.’

      He gave a nod, trying to familiarise himself with saying the family name first. Her handshake was warm and firm. He liked that. She was still holding his hand while she spoke.

      ‘Khiem and Hoa have been called away. They’re sorry they couldn’t be here to meet you. Come with me. I guess you’ll want to put the little guy down.’ She reached over and grabbed the handle of both suitcases before he had a chance to stop her and tugged them along behind her.

      ‘Is everything okay?’ he asked as he followed her down the corridor, wondering if everything was going to stop before it even started. He was surprised the doctors who had employed him weren’t here. ‘Where did they have to go?’

      She nodded her head. ‘They’ve had to go to one of the other hospitals. It’s a few hundred kilometres away, and some of the staff have taken ill. They’ll probably be away for the next few weeks.’ For a small woman, she had surprisingly long strides. He didn’t even get a chance to really see the facilities before she’d led him out the back of the building and pointed to one of three smaller houses set in the grounds at the back. She shot him a smile. ‘We’re lucky. Good staff facilities here.’

      It seemed that the slightly shabby colonial-style house had been hiding some secrets. The grounds at the back were bigger than he would have expected. He hid a smile, likening it to walking into the Tardis in Dr Who. There were green bushes, some trees and the three individual white houses set just far enough away from each other to give some privacy. Each of the houses had a different coloured front door, one yellow, one blue and one lilac.

      She led him over to the house with the blue door, swinging it open and flicking a switch. She picked up the key that was hanging on a hook behind the door. ‘Here you go,’ she said as she handed it over.

      A warm glow filled the small space. It was cosy. Nowhere near as big as his house back home. There was a small red sofa in the main room and a table with two chairs, then a neat kitchen set in the back. With a smile Lien showed him the two compact bedrooms, both beds covered with mosquito nets, and bathroom.

      It didn’t matter that the space was small. There was something about the furnishings and decor that made it welcoming. He laid Regan carefully down on the white bedspread, ensured the mosquito net was in place, then paused for a second and pulled something from Regan’s small backpack. He didn’t want Regan to wake up with nothing familiar around him.

      The picture frame held two pictures of Esther. In one, shortly after delivery, she was pale, holding Regan wrapped in a white blanket, and in the other Esther was much brighter—it was taken a year before her diagnosis with acute myeloid leukaemia and Regan said it was his favourite picture of his mum. In it she was laughing on a beach as her blonde hair blew in her eyes. Joe’s fingers hovered over the photo as he placed it on the bed next to Regan’s head and backed out of the room, leaving the door open.

      ‘I need a story,’ Regan whispered with his eyes still closed.

      Joe looked at the stuffed-full cases and Lien caught his gaze. She gave a little shrug. ‘I have a never-ending stack of stories. Why don’t you let me tell him one while you try to get yourself settled?’

      Something inside him twinged. Telling Regan a bedtime story had been part of their bedtime routine for the last four years. He was tired himself, though, his brain not really computing what time of day it was. Fatigue told him that it might be nice for Regan to hear a story that wasn’t one of those he’d repeated time and time again over the years. New stories were in short supply. ‘That’s really kind of you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘No problem,’ said Lien as she sat at the edge of Regan’s bed and launched into a story about dragons.

      Joe was actually sad that Regan was so sleepy. He would relish a story like this. Still, it gave him time to open their cases and find their toiletries and some clothes for the next day, along with their mosquito repellent. Everything else could wait.

      Lien appeared next to him just as he was trying to shake the creases out of a shirt. ‘He’s gone,’ she said quietly. ‘I think he was halfway there when I started.’

      Lien moved over to the kitchen. ‘Tea?’ she asked, holding up a pair of cups. She opened the fridge and a few cupboards. ‘Don’t worry, Hoa has filled the fridge and cupboards with some staples for you.’

      ‘She has? That was kind of her.’

      Lien gestured to the red sofa. ‘Sit down. You must be tired.’ She gave him a curious look. ‘Scotland? Isn’t it? You’ve come along way.’

      Joe relaxed down onto the sofa. It was just as comfortable as it looked. He watched as Lien moved easily around the kitchen, boiling water and preparing the tea. The smell drifting towards him was distinctly floral. This wasn’t the strong black tea he was used to in Scotland.

      A few minutes later Lien handed him the steaming cup of pale yellow liquid. He tried to give an unobtrusive sniff. ‘What kind of tea is this?’

      She settled next to him, her leg brushing against his jeans. ‘The best kind, jasmine. Haven’t you tried it before?’

      It smelled like perfume, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud, so he balanced the cup on his lap and turned a little to face her. ‘Thanks for this. You didn’t need to.’

      ‘I did.’ She grinned, eyes glinting as she sipped her own tea. ‘It’s bribery. I’m just trying to make sure you’ll be fit to work tomorrow. The jasmine tea should relax you a little, and hopefully you’ll get some sleep and your body clock will adjust.’

      He