‘Yes, I was already immune to chickenpox, so that’s one less problem to contend with.’
Flora was still pondering the problem of Conner. ‘It isn’t as if he’s a useless doctor. He’s brilliant. You should have seen him with Harry Gregg.’ She leaned forward and helped Kirsty ease the sand out of the bucket. ‘There! A perfect castle.’ She smiled as Kirsty clapped her hands with delight. ‘And he’s diagnosed Mrs Ellis.’
‘Yes, she told me he’s given her thyroxine. He certainly seems to know what he’s doing.’
‘So why hasn’t word spread? Why won’t the islanders see him?’
‘Because they see the boy and not the man? I’m guessing, but I suppose they just don’t trust him.’ Evanna hesitated. ‘Apparently Finn Sullivan refused to rent him a yacht a few evenings ago.’
Flora stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, but it’s not all black. I saw Conner kicking a football around with the kids on the beach yesterday. They think he’s so cool. And several women have made appointments to see him, but I don’t think he was too thrilled about that.’
‘He certainly wasn’t.’ Flora brushed sand from Kirsty’s face. ‘He strode up to Janet and said, “I’m not a bloody gynaecologist” or something equally unsympathetic. And Janet pointed out that as we didn’t have a female doctor, he was expected to see female problems.’
‘And what was Conner’s response to that?’
‘I don’t know because he lowered his voice but Janet went scarlet.’
Evanna laughed. ‘I don’t suppose there was much call for gynecology in the army. According to Logan, he was dealing with a lot of trauma. Anyway, it’s time we helped him settle in, which is why I’ve invited him to join us for lunch later.’
Flora’s heart bumped hard against her chest. ‘He’s coming to lunch? I thought it was just your family. Logan, Meg and a few others.’
‘Conner is family. I thought it might be a good idea to remind people of that.’
‘Oh.’ Flora concentrated on Kirsty. ‘Well, that’s great. Really nice of you, Evanna. So we should go back to the house. Start getting ready.’ She rose to her feet and picked Kirsty up. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get the sand off your feet and take you home. Who knows? Your daddy might even be there.’
* * *
Conner’s feet echoed on the cracked wooden floorboards and he glanced around him, feeling the memories swirl. The house smelled of damp, but that wasn’t surprising because it had been years since the light and air had been allowed to pour unrestricted through its doors and windows.
He’d always hated this house and nothing had changed. It was as if the walls had absorbed some of the anger and hatred that had been played out in these rooms.
He tried to feel something positive, but there was nothing that wasn’t dark and murk
y, and he gave a soft curse and strode out of the front door and back into the sunshine, drawing the clear air deep into his lungs.
Just walking into the house had made him feel contaminated.
He shouldn’t have come.
He should have just paid someone to sell the damn place.
Beneath him the sea crashed onto the rocks and he sucked in a breath, drinking in the wildness of it—the savage beauty. Everything about this part of Glenmore was angry. The coast, the sea, the wind, the house…
Him?
Conner stood for a moment, battling with uncomfortable thoughts until some inner sense warned him that he wasn’t alone.
He turned swiftly and saw her.
Flora was standing only metres away from him, the wind lifting her brown curls and blowing them around her face, her expression uncertain.
‘Sorry.’ Her voice faltered and it was obvious that she couldn’t decide whether to stay or retreat. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
He wished she hadn’t, because he was in no mood for company and his desperate need for isolation fuelled his temper. ‘Then why did you?’
Flora flinched at his directness, but she didn’t retreat. ‘You were supposed to be at Logan and Evanna’s for lunch. We assumed you’d forgotten.’