Summer Kisses

‘Ah—’ She glanced towards the ferry, her smile tired. ‘Well, I’m the woman, but the teenage daughter is still on the boat, I’m afraid. That’s her, hanging over the side glaring at me. She’s refusing to get off, and I’m still trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation without ruining my reputation before I even take my first clinic. I don’t suppose you have any experience in handling moody teenagers, Dr McKinley?’

He cleared his throat. ‘None.’

‘Shame.’ Her tone was a mixture of humour and weary acceptance. ‘This is one of those occasions when I need to refer to my handbook on teenagers. Stupidly, I packed it at the bottom of the suitcase. Next time it’s going in my handbag and if necessary I’ll ditch my purse. I apologise for her lack of manners.’ She flushed self-consciously and looked away. ‘You’re staring at me, Dr McKinley. You’re thinking I should have better control over my child.’

Yes, he was staring. Of course he was staring.

All the men on Glenmore were going to be staring.

Ryan realised that she was waiti

ng for him to say something. ‘I’m thinking you can’t possibly be old enough to be that girl’s mother. Is she adopted?’ Damn. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

‘No, she’s all mine. I have sole responsibility for the behavioural problems. But it’s refreshing to hear I don’t look old enough. According to Lexi, I’m a dinosaur. And she’s probably right. I certainly feel past it—particularly right now, when I’m going to have to get firm with her in public. Oh, joy.’ The wind flipped a strand of hair across her face and she anchored it with her fingers. ‘You’re still staring, Dr McKinley. I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting.’

So was he.

He wasn’t ready to feel this. Wasn’t sure he wanted to feel this.

Mistrusting his emotions, Ryan ran a hand over his neck, wondering what had happened to his powers of speech. ‘You must have been a child bride. Either that or you have shares in Botox.’

‘Child bride.’ There was a wistful note to her voice, and something else that he couldn’t decipher. And then she lifted her eyebrows as the girl flounced off the ferry. ‘Well, that’s a first. She’s doing something I want her to do without a row. I wonder what made her co-operate. Lexi—’ she lifted her voice slightly ‘—come and meet Dr McKinley.’

A slender, moody teenager stomped towards them.

Ryan, who had never had any trouble with numbers, couldn’t work out how the girl in front of him could be this woman’s daughter. ‘Hi, there. Nice to meet you.’

Eyes exactly like her mother’s stared back at him. ‘Are you the one who gave my mum this job? You don’t look like anything like a doctor.’

Ryan wanted to say that Jenna didn’t look like the mother of a teenager, but he didn’t. ‘That’s because I didn’t have time to shave before I met the ferry.’ He rubbed his fingers over his roughened jaw. ‘I am a doctor. But I didn’t give your mother the job—that was my colleague, Dr McNeil.’

‘Well, whatever you do, don’t put her in charge of family planning. As you can probably tell from looking at me, contraception is so not her specialist subject.’

‘Lexi!’ Jenna sounded mortified and the girl flushed.

‘Sorry. It’s just—oh, never mind. Being in this place is really doing my head in.’ Close to tears, the teenager flipped her hair away from her face and stared across the quay. ‘Is there an internet café or something? Any way of contacting the outside world? Or are we using Morse code and smoke signals? Or, better still, can we just go home, Mum?’

Ryan was still watching Jenna. He saw the pain in her eyes, the exasperation and the sheer grit and determination. She looked like someone who was fighting her way through a storm, knowing that there was no shelter.

Interesting, he mused, that Glenmore so often provided a bolthole for the wounded.

He wondered what these two were escaping.

Sensing that Jenna was hideously embarrassed, he knew he ought to say something—but what did he know about handling teenagers? Nothing. And he knew even less about what to say to soften the blow of teenage rudeness. Assuming that something along the lines of she’ll be leaving home in another four years wouldn’t go down well, Ryan opted to keep his mouth shut.

He’d never raised a child, had he?

Never been given that option. Anger thudded through him and he stilled, acknowledging that the feelings hadn’t gone away. He’d buried them, but they were still there.

Taking an audible breath, Jenna picked up their bags. ‘We’re renting a cottage at West Beach. Is there a bus that goes that way?’

‘No bus. There are taxis, but before you think about that I have a favour to ask.’

‘What favour can I possibly do you already?’

Ryan gently prised the suitcases from her cold fingers, sensing the vulnerability hidden beneath layers of poise and dignity. ‘I know you’re not supposed to officially start until tomorrow, but we’re snowed under at the surgery. I’m supposed to exert my charm to persuade you to start early, only I was up three times in the night so I’m not feeling that charming. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack and say yes.’

‘You do house-calls?’