Reunited: A Miracle Marriage. Judy Campbell

in her own right, beautiful, and connected to the right people.

      She had met Tim through her father, whose well-known firm of solicitors acted for Tim’s company. Mr Lawson was a respected lawyer in Glasgow, very much involved in the city life, and he admired Tim’s get-up-and-go and ambition and had encouraged his daughter and Tim to get together. Her parents had been devastated at their daughter’s unhappiness when she and Jack had broken up and had longed for her to find stability and love again. They had been thrilled when her new romance had seemed to be going well.

      At first she and Tim had been thrown together when asked to make up numbers for business parties that Mr Lawson had arranged. They’d become good friends and it had been fun to be part of a group. They suited each other and it seemed right that two lonely people should end up together. Perhaps they were both aware that their commitment to each other was based more on need for a partner than all-consuming passion, but once they’d decided to get married, and almost before she’d known it, Sally had been caught up in the whirlwind of organising the wedding.

      In two weeks she was having the final fitting of her wedding dress, although she felt a little shiver of guilt at the expense of it. But Tim had said that she must have only the best—and that was rather flattering. Sally had to dress for the part even if she did sometimes feel that she was being asked to take the lead in an enormous dramatic production on behalf of the guests.

      She let the window blind drop with a snap and turned back towards her desk with a small sigh, flicking a look at her watch. It was still early—half an hour before surgery began—so she’d just have time to do some paperwork and catch up on her hospital admission e-mails.

      Joyce Farquahar’s abrupt voice came over the intercom. ‘Dr McLennan’s here to see you. Do you want me to send him in?’

      An inexplicable skip of her heart at this information made Sally tell herself sternly, For heaven’s sake, you’re only working with Jack because it’s an emergency situation. Forget what went on between you all that time ago. He’s a colleague, that’s all!

      Then she said aloud, ‘Thanks, Joyce. And if you’d rustle up some coffee, that would be great.’

      Joyce said in her usual brusque manner, ‘I can’t do everything at once. It’ll be a few minutes if you want me to finish printing off all the immunisation letters first.’

      Sally grinned to herself. Joyce Farquahar was hard working and well organised, but charm didn’t feature in her many attributes. ‘I think the letters can wait a few minutes,’ she said drily.

      A few seconds later there was a light knock on the door and Jack walked in, looking tall and imposing in a well-cut dark suit that emphasised his strong build. There were no two ways about it, he had style! How well she remembered those compelling blue eyes with the dancing amusement in them that had made her go weak at the knees. Sally drew in a deep breath. It was hard to believe that underneath that debonair and charismatic aura he was a complete rat! She wondered how many other women he’d conned over the years.

      He smiled down at her easily, and before she knew it had taken her hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘I’m looking forward to working with you again, Sally,’ he said in that deep attractive voice.

      His hand was warm and strong and Sally removed hers quickly from his clasp. ‘We won’t be working in each other’s pockets,’ she informed him coolly. ‘Once I’ve shown you the ropes we’ll have a weekly meeting. Jean and I divided up the clinics between us and I guess we can do the same.’

      ‘Whatever you say.’

      A wry look of amusement flickered in Jack’s eyes. He didn’t blame her for keeping him at arm’s length. From her point of view he was the man whose word couldn’t be trusted, the man who had led her to believe they’d had a future together, and she was bound to hate him for what he’d done to her. He’d thought it would be for the best for her to think of him as a heartless brute, someone not worth loving, and that way she’d get over him quickly, realising that she’d made a mistake and get on with her life.

      Over the years he’d often wondered what she was doing, what path her life had taken. Seeing her standing in front of him now dressed in a trim navy blue trousersuit, with those wide grey eyes and blond, shining hair, he realised that his feelings for her were still very near the surface. Only now it was too late, he thought sadly. Even if he had been able to commit to her, she was about to get married to somebody else.

      She cleared her throat and said briskly, ‘Then shall we get on with things? Please sit down and I’ll give you the lowdown on the practice before we start work, and later I’ll show you the little flat above the surgery where you can stay—we’ve just had it renovated.’

      If Jack noticed her peremptory manner he didn’t show it. ‘Sounds a good idea,’ he said evenly, hitching up his trousers and sitting down on the chair in front of the desk. ‘It’ll be very convenient to live over the shop. Do you live near the practice?’

      ‘I have a little cottage at the end of the village.’

      Jack’s gaze slid to the picture of Tim on her desk and turned it more towards him. ‘And is this your fiancé?’

      ‘Yes… He lives in Glasgow,’ she replied, slightly irritated at his probing questions. She continued crisply, ‘He comes here at the weekends when he can—or I go to stay with him.’ She turned the conversation firmly back to the matter in hand. ‘Now, about the practice—we have six thousand patients scattered over a wide area, and I’m afraid we’re responsible for an on-call service at night, which we share with two other practices down the coast, but we only do it once a week. I hope that won’t be a problem?’

      Jack shook his head and looked out of the window where the view could just be seen through the half-closed blinds. ‘It’s a lovely area to work in,’ he commented. ‘Do we have any patients on the island over there?’

      Sally nodded. ‘Yes—there’s a ferry that comes and goes, but the sea can be treacherous. Although the island is so near it means that the ferry can’t always get across and in an emergency the rescue helicopter has to be used.’

      There was a loud bang on the door and Joyce stumped in with a tray of coffee. ‘Here you are, then. I’m afraid there’s no sugar left,’ she said tersely, putting the tray on the desk. ‘I’ll send Sharon out for some when she gets here.’

      Sharon was the other receptionist, a constant thorn in Joyce’s side, giggly and good-natured and addicted to women’s magazines with the latest tips on how to improve oneself—which she was always trying to persuade Joyce to follow, without much success.

      ‘Joyce, this is Jack McLennan, who’s going to be helping out while Jean’s in New Zealand.’

      Jack stood up and smiled down at Joyce. ‘A pleasure to meet you. I’ll be relying on you to keep me on the straight and narrow!’

      He gave her that melting lopsided grin, and even as Sally watched, Jean’s dour face relaxed into an unwilling smile.

      ‘Och, I’ll be pleased to help if I can. Just let me know if you’re not sure about anything,’ she said as she went out.

      Jack obviously hadn’t lost his skill in turning on the charm, thought Sally, almost amused by his ability to bring a smile to Joyce’s face. Thank goodness she herself was immune to it now! She opened one of the desk drawers to give Jack a sheaf of papers relating to the practice and the local health authority, and just as she did so, loud screaming started outside.

      They both looked up, startled, then Jack frowned and put down his coffee, getting up from his chair and striding to the window.

      ‘Sounds as if someone’s in trouble,’ he murmured, pulling aside the blinds to look outside. He gave a sudden horrified exclamation as he leaned forward to look at the scene.

      ‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s someone in the water, and it’s hellish rough. A little girl’s watching it from the side—she’s the one that’s screaming.