Page 43 of Stranded with the Surgeon

‘This part is the original settler’s cottage. The stone walls are over half a metre thick. There have been additions, of course, but they’ve all been made in keeping with the style and trying to use the same materials.’ Guy bypassed the kitchen to head for the large open fireplace where he set a match to the crumpled newspaper and pinecones in the grate.

He waited until the kindling caught and then added some larger pieces of firewood. He was taken back instantly to the night beside that lake, where he’d made the fire that had probably kept them both from succumbing to hypothermia. The memory of caring for her feet only served as a reminder of how much more intimately he had touched this woman. Guy bent a thick branch across his knee until it snapped, making a crack that rebounded off the thick walls of the cottage like gunfire.

Jessie cringed and wagged her tail apologetically, and Guy ruffled her head in reassurance. The touch grounded him enough to shake off those dangerous memories, and he straightened, brushing dust from his hands.

‘How’s your arm?’ he enquired politely. ‘I see you’ve got rid of the cast already.’ Jennifer had taken her coat off and draped it over one of the spindle-backed chairs surrounding the old kauri table.

‘It was a clean break and it healed fast.’ Jennifer was looking at her hand as she flexed her fingers. ‘I’ll just need to make sure I don’t stress it too much for a few more weeks.’ She looked up. ‘How’s the ankle?’

‘Fine. It was only a hairline fracture. I think Hugh insisted on putting it in a cast just to slow me down a bit. Anyway, I took it tramping again last week and it held up.’

Guy ducked automatically as he walked under the huge beam that separated the low ceiling of the living area from the lean-to kitchen. He filled an old cast-iron kettle with water and put it on top of the coal range, then turned his attention to finding coffee mugs.

Last week’s excursion had marked the real turning point in Guy’s recovery. The trip to what had been a favourite haunt for both himself and Digger, deep in the wilds of Fiordland, had been gruelling, both physically and emotionally, but it had also been exactly what he’d needed.

With no one to hear sobs torn from his soul, he had been able to give his grief free rein and come to terms with the fact that he was, for the first time in his life, completely alone in the world. And there had been a kind of peace to be found in the knowledge. He was responsible for only his own happiness and he would find that again in his work and community. In his home, his pets and especially in his surroundings.

He belonged here. Any errant thoughts of attempting city life again in order to re-establish contact with Jennifer could be dismissed as the kind of reckless dependence on another person that had created such deep misery in the past. And the present, given the depth of his grief at losing Digger.

Guy spooned coffee into the mugs. ‘Do you take milk?’

‘No, thanks. Just black. No sugar either.’

He set the mugs on the table and sat down. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could reclaim the kind of peace he’d found on that solitary walk. But Jennifer didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to the point of this visit and the silence began to feel uncomfortable.

‘So…’ Guy cleared his throat. ‘You’re back at work, then?’

‘Of course. I only took a week off.’

‘Busy?’

‘Very. What about you?’

‘Average workload. It wouldn’t impress you but it keeps me busy enough.’ Guy swallowed a mouthful of his coffee. ‘I’ve been helping out for a day or two every week in Bill’s practice in Te Anau. It took a while to find a locum.’

‘It must have been a shock for the community.’

‘Yeah. The town virtually closed for the funeral.’

‘And Digger’s? Was there a good turnout for him?’

‘Yeah.’ Guy could feel a poignant pride shaping his smile. The whole area had contributed to Digger’s sendoff. The aero club had done a fly-past in formation. The Glenfalloch pub had put on an amazing spread and so many people had had stories to tell that the wake had gone on well into the night.

‘I wish I’d stayed.’

‘You would have felt out of place.’ Guy pushed his mug away and let his gaze rest heavily on Jennifer. This was getting them nowhere fast. ‘Why are you here?’ he said finally. ‘Do you want to visit the crash site or something so you can put it all behind you and get on with real life?’

‘I’m never going to be able to put it all behind me. It’s changed my life.’

‘Oh?’ Guy couldn’t help sounding sceptical. ‘A brush with death and you’ve seen the light then?’

‘In a way.’ Jennifer was toying with her mug, her fingers stroking the rim in slow circles. Guy had to look away. ‘I’m going to be making a few changes.’ She looked up and Guy could see resolution in her eyes. ‘That’s why I’m here,’ she said quietly. ‘I wanted to discuss them with you.’

‘What for?’ Surprise sharpened his tone. ‘I’m not part of your life, Jenna. I never expected to even see you again. Your plans have nothing to do with me.’ Something like alarm was kicking him in the belly, creating a knot that was nothing like the one watching Jennifer’s fingers stroking that mug had provoked.

‘Actually, my plans might have quite a lot to do with you, Guy.’ Jennifer held his gaze, and he could read a mix of emotions along with that resolution now. Fear, perhaps? Sympathy even?

‘You…’ Jennifer had to clear her throat before she spoke again. ‘You’re the father of the baby I’m carrying, Guy.’

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