Letting Go With Dr Rodriguez. Fiona Lowe

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      He shook his head. ‘Not without William’s permission.’

      ‘Fine, I’ll ask Sue.’

      His jaw stiffened. ‘I think that Sue is disappointed that you have not been to see your father in a long time. She will side with me.’

      She swallowed hard, hating that the town might have turned on her without knowing the full story. Her hands shot out in bitter aggravation. ‘This isn’t how we do things in the country.’

      This time one brow rose sardonically. ‘So, you would let anyone read your patients’ files where you work? If this is so, I would not want to be under your care.’

      The shot against her professionalism jolted her hard.

      You know he’s right. From before he caught you trying to read the file you’ve known he was right.

      My situation is different. She harnessed all her frustration, using it to push away the other emotions that threatened to swamp her the way they had on and off over the last six months. She fisted her hands by her sides. ‘You know nothing about me, Dr Rodriguez, and therefore not enough to judge me.’

      Before he could reply, she pushed past him, stalking out into the fading light and back to her car, homeless in a town she’d once called home. Only then did she allow herself to cry.

      CHAPTER TWO

       ‘PAPÁ?’

      Marco lay on his son’s bed as part of their ‘goodnight’ ritual. ‘Yes.’

      ‘No boys …” Ignacio spoke slowly, each word an effort to form perfectly. He breathed in ‘… have crutches.’

      Marco tried to keep the tension out of his voice. ‘Lots of boys use crutches.’

      ‘Not at school. Not in town. I looked.’

      Marco swallowed a familiar sigh. ‘You are right. No other boys in Bulla Creek use crutches, but you’re special.’

      ‘No. I’m not.’ Ignacio’s voice rose and his small body spasmed, making it even more rigid than its usual state. ‘I’m different. I don’t like it.’

      Each word pierced Marco’s heart. A part of him knew that one day his wonderful son would make the connection that he didn’t have the same free and easy control of his body as most other boys his age. Marco had hoped however that the realisation would come much later than at a mere five years of age. The irony of it all was that inside a body that failed Ignacio daily on so many levels was a mind that was sharp and fiercely intelligent.

      ‘Querido, your crutches are your friend when your legs are tired. Now you must sleep so your legs are rested in the morning.’

      He slid the soft-toy koala, the one Ignacio had chosen on their arrival at Sydney airport, into his arms and then tucked in the sheet and light blanket around him. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, he whispered, ‘I love you. Sleep well.’

      ‘I love you, too, Papá.’

      Marco closed the door behind him and walked directly to the kitchen. Heather had prepared a plate of cold chicken and salad for him and as he poured himself a glass of wine to accompany the food, he wished he was eating a thick steak straight off the barbecue instead of yet another cold meal. Of course, he could fire up the grill and cook one, but he lacked the energy. Bulla Creek, the place he’d come to as a sanctuary and for a new start, was wearing him out.

      As he ate, he glanced at the calendar, mentally calculating how long William had been out of action. It felt disloyal to wish his colleague and mentor back at his desk when he clearly didn’t feel up to it and yet if William could give just two hours a day to see the straightforward cases it would ease Marco’s load considerably.

      Lucy Patterson is a doctor. You could ask her to help.

      No. He pushed his plate away and took a long gulp of his wine as the combined image of wild, grey eyes and pale cheeks stained with pink hit him. It was instantly followed up with the backhander of a lush-red, pouting and highly kissable mouth. His blood pounded more than a fraction faster.

      He quickly stood up and stowed his plate in the dishwasher as if movement would empty his mind of her. It galled him that his body had decided to come alive in the presence of a woman who looked like a fragile porcelain doll, but in personality was the exact opposite. Plus, she came with questionable professional ethics. A lesser man would have melted under the incensed fire blazing from those eyes, which had flared when he’d denied her access to the computer.

      His palms suddenly glowed hot, reliving the soft warmth of her skin where he’d touched her arms. Skin that covered surprisingly taut muscles that had hinted at some weight-work. That he’d lifted her out of the way still shocked him, but he’d acted out of loyalty to William. William was his patient and he knew nothing of Lucy.

      William didn’t speak of her and Sue had sighed when she’d reluctantly handed over the email address saying, ‘He won’t be happy about this and she should know better.’ At the time, he’d been intent on getting some help for William and by default for himself so Marco hadn’t given Sue’s statement much thought. However, now he’d met Lucy Patterson, he wondered if it was her conduct as a doctor that was the issue that lay between her and her father. William was one of the most principled and professional doctors Marco had ever worked with and he couldn’t imagine him condoning any behaviour that went against his code of practice.

      No, it was enough that William would resent his intrusion in summoning his daughter without Marco adding to it by asking her to work in the clinic. He couldn’t in all conscience have someone in the practice who ignored protocol. No, Lucy Patterson wasn’t the answer to his problems.

      Decision made, he took his wine out onto the back deck which overlooked the surrounding rocky hills and breathed in the sweet, cool evening air that slid in over the fading heat. Out here, he could usually shed some of the pressures that plagued him, but not tonight. As he watched the night star rise in the darkening sky, his thoughts spun out to Argentina and to his parents who were anxious to join him in Bulla Creek the moment he was granted permanent residency and he could legally sponsor them. They missed their grandson. His thoughts bounced back to Ignacio’s heartbreak. He let his head fall back on that grief, feeling it moving through him again, just like it had years before, and then suddenly, without any bidding, an image of Lucy Patterson’s curvaceous behind swooped in sending all other thoughts scattering.

      Swearing in Spanish, he stood up and walked inside.

      Lucy repaired her makeup in the car using the tiny mirror on the visor and then ran a brush through her hair. The yellow light gave her a jaundiced look and she pinched her cheeks trying to infuse some colour. She should have checked into the motel, but she really didn’t want to meet anyone she knew until she’d spoken to William. She stared at her pale face. ‘Lucy Jane whoever-you-are, it’s time.’

      Stepping out onto the sweeping, circular driveway outside Haven, the gravel crunched under her feet and she stared up at the house. The stone and iron cottage with its whitewashed window sills and decorative wooden veranda rails stood as it had for the last one hundred and thirty years. It had been her home from the age of one when her parents had moved with her to Bulla Creek, and right up until she’d left for university. After that it had been her haven when life in Perth СКАЧАТЬ