Four Weddings: A Woman To Belong To / A Wedding in Warragurra / The Surgeon's Chosen Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Marriage Proposal. Fiona Lowe
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‘I’m heading to the Lai Chau district.’
‘The hill-tribe region, right?’ A friendly tone had replaced the chill of a moment ago.
He gave an internal sigh of relief. She was seeing reason. ‘That’s right. I look after a clinic in a remote village there and I visit once a month. Local health workers staff it the rest of the time. I’ll be doing some “train the trainer,” as well as seeing patients. Right now we have a focus on maternal and child health.’
She reached for her hat and stood up. ‘So is Lai Chau Province the sort of place I should visit to get a real feel for the country?’
‘Sure. It would be a start.’ He walked toward the door to usher her out.
‘Excellent. My hotel is on the way to the airport and I can quickly grab my stuff.’
Her words ricocheted around his brain, trying to take purchase. ‘Hang on a minute—you’re not coming with me.’
She tilted her head slightly and focused her clear unflinching gaze straight at him. ‘Why not? You said I needed to do my research and what better way than with a doctor who is completely familiar with the health needs?’
Indignation spluttered through him. ‘I’m a doctor, not a tour guide!’
Her mouth took on the increasingly familiar firm line. ‘And I’m a nurse, not a tourist. I’ll pay my way and earn my keep. I have midwifery and maternal and child health qualifications, some emergency experience and a master’s degree in public health. I’ll be an asset, not a hindrance. Are you in the position of knocking back free professional help?’
Hell! She’d completely turned the tables on him. Somehow she’d seized control of the conversation without him realising.
He didn’t want her travelling with him, with her sparkling eyes and wondrous smile. Part vixen, part ingénue, he hated the way his body reacted to her. He had to keep his focus firmly on his reasons for being in Vietnam. Between medicine and trying to trace his family, he had no time for anything else.
But how could he knock back an extra pair of medical hands? He didn’t have the right when so many people had so little access to health care. A few weeks in the remote regions of the country would prove if she had the mettle to follow her dream.
He picked up his pack. ‘It’s hot and exhausting out there.’
A laugh quickly chased away her grimace. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
He had to regain some equilibrium, set some ground rules. ‘You acknowledge I’m the doctor in charge?’
She nodded, her face serious, but a hint of a smile hovered about her mouth. ‘Absolutely.’
So why didn’t that ready agreement make him feel any more in control?
BEC LEANED AGAINST the supporting stilts of the thatched hut, which doubled as a clinic. She watched the scrawny bronze-coloured chickens pecking at the sun-baked earth, ever hopeful of finding some seed. Fanning herself with her hat, she was taking a five-minute breather from unpacking the medical supplies Tom had brought with them.
The bone-shaking four-wheel-drive journey to get to this small village, snuggled deep into the valley between towering rugged mountains, had taken five hours. The flight in the tiny plane to Lai Chau yesterday had been luxurious in comparison.
Her hand still ached from gripping the grab-handle above the window of the vehicle, trying to avoid being thrown against Tom or into his lap. Terror lanced her at the secret knowledge that it might not have been an awful experience if she had landed there.
But it would have been bad. Really bad. She couldn’t trust her instincts when it came to men. She got it so wrong every time. First her father and then Nick. Both of them had only given pain, not love. She rubbed the ache in her leg. She carried the legacy of her time spent with both of them every day.
She avoided men as much as she could, both professionally and personally. Keep a safe distance. That had been her mode of operation since she was twenty. Anxiety-generated sweat broke out on her brow as the reality of what she’d done—was doing—hit her.
For the first time in forever she’d broken her own rule.
First she’d travelled alone with an unknown man. Now she was in a village where she didn’t speak the dialect and her only back-up was Tom. A man she knew little about other than that he was a respected doctor.
She’d used all her street smarts to coerce him to bring her here, her need to do something for the children of Vietnam overriding the safety net she always cast about herself.
She hated the fact he’d correctly challenged her. She’d let her enthusiasm cloud her vision. How could she really help unless she truly understood the country? As much as she considered her inheritance ‘tainted’ money, she wanted to put it to good use. By the end of this trip she’d have a much clearer direction.
Since they’d left Hanoi, Tom had been polite, considerate and aloof. He’d arranged a lovely room for her when they’d overnighted in Lai Chau. Granted, it had been as far away from his as possible with a grove of trees between them, but that had suited her perfectly. Even at that distance he’d managed to feature in her dreams.
That morning Tom had introduced her to their interpreter, Hin, and with an appropriate professional manner and much bowing he’d made sure she’d been welcomed by the local health care worker.
She knew Tom really didn’t want her here and merely tolerated her presence. Perhaps she’d allowed for a safety net after all.
‘Drink?’ Tom appeared behind her, offering her a bottle of water.
She turned and smiled, surprise snaking through her at his unexpected thoughtfulness. ‘Thanks.’ She twisted off the blue cap. ‘Now, this sort of heat I can cope with. The humidity of the lowlands is almost too much for a girl from Perth.’
‘At least you grew up in heat. Growing up on a dairy farm in the rainbelt of southern Victoria was no preparation at all.’ He tipped his head back and gulped his drink down.
She tried to look away but her gaze was transfixed on the movement of his Adam’s apple against his corded, muscular neck.
‘That view’s pretty amazing isn’t it?’
She coughed, choking on her water while her cheeks flared with heat. Had he seen her blatant staring?
He swept his arm out at the panorama of green and grey mountains that ringed the village, their lower aspects carved and defined by terraces of emerald-green rice paddies. ‘It looks so stunning and yet it makes life so damn hard for the locals.’
‘Floods?’ She’d seen debris, evidence that the Song Da River had in the past broken its banks.
‘Floods and mudslides are one problem. The narrow valley means the river becomes a raging torrent and there’s СКАЧАТЬ