Page 101 of A Country Practice Christmas
She drew in a slow breath, exhaling as she spoke. ‘If you don’t mind, we might finish there for today. Next time we’ll look at some strategies for coping with cravings and talk more about your family.’
Owen stood.
‘See you next Thursday.’
No goodbye. Just the banging of the door as he hot-footed it out of the office.
Hannah leaned back in her chair and covered her face with her hands. What the hell was she thinking, letting her mind run away with her like that? She was better than that, had worked hard to block out the past, had always prided herself on her professionalism.
Maybe it wasn’t just being blindsided by the details of Owen’s case. Maybe the unexpected appearance of the decorations in the cafe or Hugh’s mention of the tree light-up had messed with her head. Or the bad news from Lenore? Or maybe that weird reaction she’d had to meeting Cole Morgan had thrown her off kilter? Not that any of that should matter. Her job—or rather, her calling—was to help people sort themselves out, find better ways of dealing with and expressing their emotions so they could live life to the full. God, she sounded like a guide on a career options field day. Even so, it was true. She knew enough about dysfunction to be able to put herself in her client’s shoes. But this case cut way too close to the bone. Why did it have to land in her lap now, when her walls were already starting to crack?
Standing, she collected her water bottle from the desk and took a long, deep draft. Her next client wasn’t due until twelve. Maybe some fresh air and a coffee was all she needed to clear her head. She pulled open the door and there was Crystal, phone pressed to her ear, peering at the computer screen.
‘Dr Rasmussen can see you on Tuesday, December seventeen, at two pm for an initial consult. Please bring the referral from your GP. Thank you.’ Efficient and polite. Impressive. Despite her misgivings about sharing the small office space, having someone else deal with the phone calls and bookings was a huge relief.
Crystal hung up, pushed her hair back with both hands and gave a smile worthy of a toothpaste advertisement. ‘Everything okay?’ She had a maternal kind of face, soft with crinkles around her eyes, although she too was probably only in her mid-thirties.
‘Yes. Fine. All good out here?’
‘Fabulous.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Owen Morgan left in a hurry.’
Based on Crystal’s implied question, he hadn’t said why. So, no need to provide any further enlightenment. ‘Can you book him in again for the same time next week and send him a confirmation email?’ Considering the decline in her own organisational skills, evidenced by her inability to fully print a set of case notes, she may as well take full advantage of having good office help. ‘I’m just going to grab a coffee before my next appointment.’
Crystal sprang to her feet. ‘I can get it for you.’
‘No.’ She held up her hand. There was a limit to letting others carry your load. And she could do with the fresh air. ‘I’d like to stretch my legs.’
‘Okay.’ Crystal dropped back into her seat, looking a little crestfallen. ‘I’ll keep sorting through these emails.’ She grimaced. ‘Lots of spam.’
Spam? Really? Come to think of it, she had let the admin slide. Could her inefficiency be something to do with the looming holiday season? She stepped out onto the verandah, closed the door behind her, leaned against it and let her eyes shut. This was no more than a temporary glitch.
Everything was completely under control.
Chapter 3
Tiny wrens flitted from branch to branch in the chaotic hedge lining the footpath. Pruning was on the to-do list, along with a few dozen other chores. Moving from an apartment to a house was a huge step up in the maintenance department but it meant there was always something to keep her busy.
Letting the gate latch click behind her, she gave her head a shake, rattling away the mental dust that had stormed in and layered itself across her brain. Movement, fresh air, caffeine: a sure-fire remedy for brain fog. Almost as good, but not quite, as a bush walk. Maybe she could squeeze a short one in after work.
Just as the thought sparked, the toe of her sandal caught a tree root jutting out onto the nature strip from her neighbour’s yard. She hit the ground with a thud and an ‘Oh, shit.’
A hand appeared, broad and tanned, nails short and clean, and the body it belonged to crouched beside her. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes, thank you, I’m fine.’ She gave an awkward laugh. ‘Just a little embarrassed to be falling over in public.’ And then she looked up. Right into those dark caramel swirls. Oh God, did it have to be him that came to her rescue?
She pushed herself to her feet and once she was upright, he let go of her elbow. Dirt stained the knees of her pants. She swiped her hands roughly across the marks and brushed the remnants of earth from her hands.
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
Her cheeks burned, ostensibly from the mortification of the public fall. Possibly also from the ridiculously schoolgirl physical responses she seemed to be having whenever this man was in touching distance.
Cole pointed towards the house. ‘So, is my brother still here?’
‘Oh, no … he … we …’ Why was she being such an inarticulate moron? ‘We cut the session a little short. Just easing into things. He left about ten minutes ago.’ Given that Owen wasn’t exactly a chatterbox and seemed to resent his brother, there was a good chance he’d keep the details of their session private.
‘Right.’ A furrow formed between Cole’s brows. He huffed out a sigh.
