Free The Doctor's Proposal by Marion Lennox

decided that Susie was his family from now on, and that was that. Only then he died, and there was nothing. Just a blank nothing. Because there was no one else to grieve over him, it was almost as if Rory hadn’texisted. And now Susie’s found Rory’s Uncle Angus, and he’s lovely and he needs her and I’ll bet right now she’ll be thinking that Rory would want her to stay, and you can’t imagine how much of a blessing that must be.’ She broke off, tears threatening to spill. She wiped them away with an angry backhand swipe. ‘Anyway, you’ve done very well.’
    â€˜For an Australian doctor,’ he said with a hint of teasing, and she flushed and swiped again.
    â€˜I’m not crying,’ she said. ‘I don’t cry. It’s just…’
    â€˜Hayfever,’ he said promptly. ‘Caused by pumpkins. Can I prescribe an antihistamine?’
    â€˜I’m fine,’ she said, and gazed at Susie some more. Susie had abandoned the crutches and was seated on the rock wall abutting the vegetable garden. She was talking animatedly about manure. Angus was listening and nodding and asking questions.
    There were a few things to be considered. Medical things. It was up to her to consider them.
    â€˜Can we deliver Susie’s baby here?’
    â€˜It’s not perfect,’ he told her. ‘Normally I’d say no. But if we’re weighting up the pros and cons, I’d say the pros definitely outweigh the added cons. Wouldn’t you say so, Dr McMahon?’
    â€˜Maybe.’
    â€˜What sort of a doctor are you?’
    â€˜An American one,’ she snapped, and he grinned.
    â€˜Yeah, and a cute one. But don’t you guys all have specialties?’
    â€˜I guess.’ She looked at him speculatively. ‘You’re a family doctor.’
    â€˜A generalist,’ he agreed. ‘But with surgical training.’
    â€˜Do you have an anaesthetist?’
    â€˜Not now. Old Joe Gordon was an anaesthetist—a fine one—but he died on me six months ago.’
    â€˜Which explains the overwork.’
    â€˜Which explains the overwork. So how about you?’
    â€˜I work in a hospice. A big one.’
    â€˜You’re a palliative-care physician.’
    â€˜Um…no.’
    â€˜No?’
    â€˜My basic training’s in anaesthesia,’ she confessed. ‘I specialise in pain management, hence the hospice work. You want a spinal block, I’m your man.’
    His face stilled. His eyes turned blank. She could see cogs start to whirr.
    â€˜Let’s not get any ideas,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m here to look after my sister.’
    â€˜How interested are you in pumpkins?’
    She glanced across at the bent heads and managed a smile.
    â€˜Not very,’ she confessed. ‘They lack a little in the patient backchat department.’
    â€˜Then maybe you’d help me out?’
    â€˜How can I do that?’ She was still watching her sister. Susie was sitting on the wall with Angus. The sun was on her face and she and Angus were examining each pumpkin leaf in turn. ‘I need to be here with Susie. And with Angus. You said yourself that Angus couldn’t be left alone. Ditto Susie. So that leaves me…’
    â€˜Stuck in a castle,’ he said, still smiling, and she wished suddenly that he wouldn’t.
    â€˜I guess that’s terrific,’ she said, with what she hoped was cheerfulness. It didn’t quite come out that way. She looked dubiously across at her sister and realised that Susie and Angus were soul mates. They’d spend what remained of Susie’s pregnancy happily saving pumpkins.
    Maybe she could…um…read some books.
    â€˜Maybe you could help me,’ Jake said again, and she turned from watching Susie and made herself concentrate.
    â€˜How could I do that?’
    â€˜I’m desperate.’
    â€˜You don’t look