Название | New York Doc, Thailand Proposal / The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell |
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Автор произведения | Dianne Drake |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Medical |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008901936 |
“And I was part of that holiday?”
Arlo didn’t answer the question. Instead, he pulled back a thin sheet separating the main part of the room from what looked to be a tiny space for a bedroom. “And you’re in luck. Chauncy isn’t here right now. So the cot is all yours if you want to rest until I can find someone to get your car.”
Layla looked out the window above her cot and sighed. It was beginning to rain. Big fat drops. Hitting the dirt road and turning it into instant mud. And here she was, in a hut without a door, assigned to sleep with something or someone called Chauncy, and just now learning that what she’d thought might have been love in some form had been merely a holiday for Arlo. She’d been merely a holiday. Well, she was here. And she had to make the best of it while she was. But her spirits were as dreary as the gray sky outside. She’d hoped for something different, something more. And the truth hurt.
“I don’t suppose this Chauncy happens to have an umbrella, does he? I’d like to go back across the road and get myself acquainted with the hospital.”
“Actually, I have an umbrella. But you should be careful because some snakes love the rain and come out to play, while others are making a mad dash to get out of it.”
Yep, that’s all she needed to add to her mood. Snakes in the puddles. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, but the good news is we have a nice supply of antivenin always handy. That’s the one thing that’s delivered to my door because the pharmaceutical reps deem my snakebite findings useful to them. So, use the antivenin, fill out some paperwork, answer some questions and they keep the supply coming.”
Snakes and snakebites. Somehow none of this was brightening her day. Not this holiday girl.
“You trying to get rid of me already, Arlo?” Layla asked, walking into a small room, one of only three with real doors in the hospital, then stopping halfway inside to look around. It was a basic exam room. One hard, flat, old-fashioned exam table, an open cabinet with supplies like gloves, bandages and tongue depressors. The medicine cabinet she’d already seen. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t hopeless either. More like something new in her collection of medical experiences.
“So, do you have a usual time to order supplies?”
“On a PRN basis.” As needed.
“And you get that order sent by?”
“Going to an elephant rescue near here and getting on their internet.” Arlo smiled. “It may seem difficult, but it works out.”
But would she work out inside Arlo’s system? That was the question that kept coming to mind. She wanted to help him, to do a good job, but practically speaking, could she? “And I’ll fit into this how?”
“Any way you want to. I operate on the same system as my orders are submitted. PRN. It works, as long as I don’t get distracted. And that’s when everything falls apart.”
“What distracts you?” Layla was curious, as Arlo had never seemed the type to get distracted when they’d been together.
“A lot of things. Too much need, too little of me to go around. Medicines I can’t get when I need them. The hole in the roof over my cot. Actually, now that you’ve displaced me that’s one less distraction I’ll have to deal with.”
“Did you always feel that way about me, Arlo? That I distracted you?”
He gave her a questioning look. “How do you mean?”
“That I was a distraction you didn’t want to have?”
“You were always a distraction, Layla. But I wanted that distraction. Wanted that time we had together. It meant—everything.”
To her, it had. But she wasn’t sure about Arlo. One thing was certain, though. He’d been her distraction. And he’d displaced her feelings in a way no one would ever do again. Before him, she’d been sure what she wanted. But after him there had been times when she hadn’t been so sure.
“Well, however it worked out, I’m glad you have everything you wanted,” she said, walking out into the short corridor leading to the single room holding ten beds. All empty now. And everything bare bones. Meager. Medicine on a level she’d never seen. “Do you think Ollie might have provided you with more, had he known how bare your hospital is?”
“He knows, Layla. He’s been here. But he’s so heavily invested in his surgical practice—putting me through med school was enough. It was a very generous thing to do, especially considering that if he hadn’t done it, I might still be struggling to earn enough money to get through. Besides, my parents were able to manage under difficult circumstances and so am I.”
“I hope so. For your sake, as well as your patients’.”
“You think I don’t do what’s best for my patients? You’re here all of an hour and you’re already making judgments?”
“Not at all. I’m beginning to realize how difficult it must be to exist here.” She was almost gaining a deeper insight into him now, seeing him differently than she had in those years they had been together. And this side of Arlo wasadmirable. He was someone to be respected. And it was so frightening, knowing he was out here, practically on his own, trying to make a difference she still didn’t understand. “Since I’ve come a long way to work with you, I have the right to wonder. And worry, if that’s the way it turns out. If that bothers you, sorry. But there’s nothing I can do about it. At least, not until I understand more.”
As Layla passed by Arlo on her way to the tiny kitchen at the rear of the ward, she paused when they were almost chest to chest and looked up at him. “I never worked directly with you when we were residents because of our personal situation. Fraternization wasn’t allowed. But now it’s different. And what we had, or what we meant to each other, can’t get in the way. OK? The past is the past. So, keep in mind, Arlo, that this can’t turn into something that’s only about us. Taking offense too quickly at things not intended to be offensive, overreacting—we can’t do that. We can’t wipe the slate clean either. But we’ve got to find a way to make this work for a while. If that’s what you want for your hospital. If it’s not”
She shrugged, then ducked into the tiny kitchen to assess the two-burner stove, the small utility table, and the knee-high refrigerator that looked to be a decade past its prime. It was working off a small generator that ran only the kitchen. Well, for now she’d have to get used to it. For better or worse, she had to make a go of this. And of Arlo.
For the first time, Layla really wondered why she had raised her hand so quickly. But it was too late to worry over that, especially when she had so many other things to fret about now. Snakes, something called Chauncy, rain, difficult conditions, Arlo It was almost too much. Still, she was here, trying to convince herself she could do this. She had to. Arlo might suffer a little if she backed out, but his patients were the ones who really counted. Because of them, Layla would fight her way through and hope she was good enough. No matter what Arlo or anybody else thought, she was about being a doctor. A good doctor. As good a doctor as Arlo.
“What happened to your back?” Layla asked, as they both went to greet a patient who’d wandered in the door. A little boy with a scratch on his arm. He couldn’t have been more than five or six, and Layla escorted the child to the exam room and pointed to the table, indicating for the child to hop up.
“I strained it a little,” Arlo said, surprised and even flattered that she was paying that much attention. But Layla had always been observant. Sometimes too observant, especially when she’d picked up on one of his moods—moods he’d tried hard never to show. Yet she’d always known, just like now. “I fell off a roof. Actually,