The Courage To Love Her Army Doc. Karin Baine

kava ceremony?’ She eyed him suspiciously, as if he might be luring her to the village as some sort of human sacrifice.

      ‘Basically, it’s a welcoming ceremony with the most senior tribal members present. They grind the yaqona, or kava, and make it into a drink for you to take with them in a traditional ceremony. All visitors are invited to take part when they first arrive on the island.’

      ‘It’s not one of those hallucinogenic substances you hear about, is it? I don’t want to be seeing fairies dancing about all night in front of my eyes. I’m not even a big drinker because I don’t enjoy that feeling of being out of control.’ She was starting to get herself into a flap for no reason.

      Joe hadn’t even asked questions when he’d taken part in his first kava ceremony, he’d just gone with the flow. He embraced every new experience with gusto, whereas Emily seemed to fear it.

      ‘Don’t worry. It’s nothing sinister, although the taste leaves a lot to be desired. There shouldn’t be any fairy visions keeping you awake. If anything, it’s known to aid sleep, among other things.’ He kept the claims of its aphrodisiac properties to himself rather than freak her out any further.

      ‘I don’t think that’s something I’m going to have a problem with tonight.’ She set her case down and rubbed her palms on her dress before lifting it again. The heavy labour in less-than-ideal circumstances was something she was going to have to get used to and only time would tell if she was up to it.

      He, on the other hand, had a feeling his peace of mind here had suddenly been thrown into chaos.

      It was just as well he thrived on a challenge.

       CHAPTER TWO

      ALL EMILY WANTED was a familiar face and familiar things around her. It wasn’t a lot to ask for and the sooner she got her bags unpacked and her clinic in the sun set up the better. Then she might be able to finally relax. She’d had all the excitement she needed just getting here.

      Her pulse skittered faster as the ramshackle buildings with their corrugated-iron roofs came into view. This was as far from her humdrum life as she could get and a definite two-fingered salute to her ex.

      ‘Can I refuse to take part in this kava thing?’ She’d used up her quota of bravery already. Drinking unknown substances with strangers was the sort of thing that could make her the subject of one of those ‘disappearances unsolved’ programmes.

      Her idea of living dangerously was putting an extra spoonful of sugar in her cuppa at bedtime, not imbibing a local brew of origin unknown to her. It wasn’t that she’d heard anything but good things about these people, she was just scared of all this newness. This would’ve been so much easier if Peter was here with her instead of the scowling Joe.

      ‘You have free will, of course you can refuse. It would, however, show a distinct lack of respect for your hosts.’

      That would be a no, then. It was going to be difficult enough fitting in here, without incurring the wrath of the community from the get-go.

      Trust and respect were vital components between a doctor and her patients. It had taken her a long time to gain both from her colleagues and the locals when she’d first joined the GP practice at home. Only years of hard work, building her reputation, had moved her from being last option to first choice for her patients.

      With only two weeks to re-create that success here she’d have to take every opportunity available to ingratiate herself. Even if she was breaking out in a cold sweat at what that meant she could be walking into.

      They passed a white building, larger than the rest, which her tour guide informed her was the village school. Although lessons were surely over for the day, the children were congregated on the patch of green surrounding it, playing ball games. There was a chorus of ‘Bula!’ as the youngsters waved in their direction.

      Unfortunately, one boy by the volleyball net was too distracted by their arrival to see the ball coming straight for him. The loud smack as it connected full in his face even made Emily flinch. As the child crumpled to the ground, for a split second she wondered if there was some sort of protocol she should follow as she hadn’t been officially introduced. Common sense quickly overrode her worry and she dropped her bags to run to him. It was only when she was battling through the throng of children to reach him that she realised Joe had followed too. They knelt on either side of the boy, who was thankfully still conscious but clearly winded.

      ‘If you could just stay still for us, sweetheart, we want to give you a check over. That was quite a hit you took there.’ She couldn’t see any blood or bruising as yet but she wanted him to stay flat until they’d given him a quick examination.

      ‘Hi, Joni. This is Emily, the new doctor. You know, Pastor Peter’s sister?’ Joe made the introduction she’d omitted to do herself, and was already checking the boy’s pupils with a small torch he’d retrieved from one of his pockets.

      She’d bet her life he had a Swiss Army knife and a compass somewhere in those cargo shorts too. He was the type of guy who was always prepared, like a rugged, muscly Boy Scout. The only survival essentials she carried were make-up, teabags and chocolate biscuits, none of which were particularly useful at present. The few medical supplies she had with her were packed somewhere in her abandoned luggage.

      Life as an island doctor certainly wasn’t going to run to the office hours she was used to. She was going to be permanently on call and if she didn’t come equipped, deferring to her army medic colleague was going to become the norm. That feeling of inadequacy could defeat the purpose of her personal journey here if she didn’t get with the programme. This trip was primarily to bring medical relief to the people of the island and she could do without uncovering any new flaws to obsess over.

      ‘Do you know where you are, Joni? Or what happened?’ She wrestled back some control, determined not to let the issue of a pocket torch spiral into a major meltdown in her neurotic brain.

      That earned her an Are you serious? glare. ‘I’m lying on the ground because you two won’t let me get up after I got hit in the face with a ball.’

      Joe snickered as she was educated by her first patient.

      ‘Dr Emily’s making sure the bump on the head hasn’t caused any serious damage, smart guy.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair, clearly already acquainted with the child.

      She figured he was using her first name to break the ice a little because she was a stranger. Either that or he didn’t know what surname she was currently going under.

      It was a subject she hadn’t fully resolved herself. Greg Clifford was going to be someone else’s husband soon. She no longer had any claim over his name, or anything else. Yet reverting back to her maiden name of Jackson was confirmation that her marriage had failed. She’d been returned unwanted for a second time, like a mangy stray dog. The idea of going back on the singles market felt very much like waiting for someone to take pity on her and find her a forever home.

      She tried to refocus her attention back from her ex to the present. He didn’t deserve any more of her time since all the years she’d given him had apparently meant so little.

      ‘Do you have any pain in your neck?’

      Her choice of words had her patient sniggering at her again.

      ‘Come on, Joni. We’re trying to help you here. We need to know if you’re hurting anywhere before we get you back on your feet.’

      It was comforting to find Joe had her back this time, even if his apparent seniority here was irksome.

      ‘I’m okay.’ As if to try to prove their fears unwarranted, Joni jumped to his feet, only to have to reach out and steady himself by grabbing Joe’s arm.

      If Emily was honest, she’d have made a grab for the strong and sturdy desert island doc too in similar circumstances.

      ‘Really?’