Island of Secrets and Scars

Cameron held her breath as Ian and Wes stood chest to chest, each waiting for the other to give in. Finally, Ian shouldered past the other man and stomped from the clinic. She pulled in a ragged breath and blinked away tears.

Wes’s body sagged as he released a long sigh. “It’s been a long five years.”’

“Wes,” she warned. This wasn’t the day for hearing about Ian’s poor, miserable life since she’d left.

Her former friend turned and met her gaze. His brown eyes were duller than she remembered. Lines now spread from the corners to disappear into the graying hair at his temples. He’d aged since she’d last seen him. They all had. They’d moved on with their lives. They’d evolved. None of them were the same as they’d been before that last trip to Africa. They never could be again.

“I wasn’t trying to insult him or either of you.” She needed to move this conversation away from her past. Their past. “Let’s look at the facts here. You’re all Americans. You’re doctors, which they equate with wealth. You’re educated, which is a privilege here. You represent things they’ve tried to escape. Maybe eventually they can trust you, but you’ll have earned that trust. What you did for Ara and Brodie will pave the way. How you treat them going forward will determine the rest.”

Wes continued to study her from eyes that rarely missed anything. She forced herself not to squirm under his scrutiny.

“Calling people cowards for being here won’t help your cause,” she finished.

“Cameron, he’s understandably upset. He’s just verified that you left and chose to stay away.”

She snickered. “Of course, I chose to stay away. Why else wouldn’t I have come back?”

The two men exchanged a look she couldn’t comprehend.

“When you never returned, when he couldn’t find you anywhere, he assumed you were dead,” Wes finally answered. “We all did.”

The man beside him nodded.

“No,” she stated the obvious. “I just had no reason to come back.”

A muscle in Wes’s jaw jumped. Matt’s eyes widened.

“I guess we didn’t realize how little you cared for Ian . . . and the rest of us.” Wes’s voice didn’t break, but she got the impression if he said much more it would.

“There’s a lot you didn’t realize about Ian and me.” Or at least she hoped she spoke the truth. She couldn’t bear the thought Wes knew Ian and Mallory betrayed her, or Ian’s true feelings about their child, and he’d kept that information from her. “We were over before we left Africa.”

Wes’s eyes turned to slits, surprise registering in the shake of his head. She breathed easier. Maybe his reaction meant she’d been right to assume Wes had been as clueless about Ian’s true feelings as she’d been.

“You can’t still blame him for what happened to the baby. He didn’t even perform the surgery, Cam. I did that. If you want to punish someone, punish me.” Wes’s brown eyes clouded with tears. Tears she could hear in his deep voice.

“I’m finished with punishing anyone.” She turned up her lips, offering a smile she didn’t feel. “I just want to live my life, raise my daughter, and take care of my friends and neighbors. You handle the Americans. I’ll see to my people.”

She turned to walk away, but Wes stopped her with a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Brodie needs to be moved,” he told her. “His chances of waking up are greater on the main . . . big island.”

Maybe he was right, but she didn’t think so. Medically, they’d done all anyone could do for Brodie. If she allowed them to ship him off to another island, there was little anyone could offer him he couldn’t receive from her with the help of Wes and his team. But if Brodie stayed, he’d have his wife and children, his friends and family close by. His chances of waking up and recovering surrounded by love and support were greater than if he lay in a sterile hospital room across the water. Not to mention the stress to Esme and their unborn child if Brodie were moved. The islanders weren’t used to sick neighbors returning home once they were sent away.

“I don’t agree.” In the past, when they’d worked together, she’d never stood up to Wes about a patient’s care. He’d overseen their team, and she’d been too insecure to go against his dictate. Although, truth be told, she’d rarely disagreed with him. But things were different now. She was different now. Wes might know medicine, but she knew her patients.

“Brodie will have a better chance of recovering here at home. He won’t react well to being separated or waking alone and finding his legs gone.”

Wes and Matt shared a look that let her know they didn’t agree with her assessment.

“You just take care of the Americans. I’ve got this.”

This time she didn’t give Wes time to stop her as she hurried from the clinic. She needed space to think without her past in the way.

* * *

Cameron barely recognized the beach when she stepped through the charred trees onto the once pristine sand. Volunteers had used boats to pull pieces of the plane and wrecked boats onto the shore. She searched the wreckage for any pieces of Brodie’s boat.

“Hey Doc.” Edmund approached, wiping the back of his arm over his forehead. “How’s everything at the clinic?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Under control.” She didn’t have any better explanation. Even with Wes and Ian’s team, she didn’t have the space or supplies to treat the tourists on top of the locals. Maybe by the time she returned, Wes would have arrangements made for them to be transported to the big island.

“Ara?” Concern laced the man’s voice when he asked about her daughter.

“She’s good. She’ll take some time to heal, but she’s going to be just fine.” She gave his forearm a soft squeeze. “Thank you for all you did for her. Her injuries could’ve been much worse.”

He smiled, then waved off her thanks. “I’m glad she’ll be okay. She’s such a sweet, funny little girl. I can’t stand the thought of her hurting.”

Tears stung Cam’s eyes. Yes, Arabella was quite the little girl.

The smile disappeared from her companion’s face. “How’s Brodie?”

Blinking away her tears, she attempted a smile of her own. “We have him sedated to allow his body and mind to rest. For now, we just wait and hope.”

Edmund’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he visibly struggled to swallow his emotions. “You did everything you could. More than anyone could dare ask of you.”

She opened her mouth to protest. She’d only done what anyone else would’ve done. Brodie was her friend, Keso’s best-friend. She couldn’t have turned her back on him.

“Uh uh.” Edmund cut off the words on the tip of her tongue. “He’d have died in that water, trapped in his boat, if not for you. You own that, Doc.”

Emotion rose in her chest, tightening it. Biting her lip, she tried to hold back the tears that threatened. She hoped she’d done enough. Brodie deserved a happy life. He should see his children grow up. Those little girls had been blessed with a father who adored them. They should get to bask in that love long into their own adulthood.

“You heard who owned the plane, didn’t you?” Edmund had turned his attention back to the beach where strangers sifted through the debris.

“No.” She’d heard speculation throughout the previous day but nothing concrete.

“Victor Roberts.” His voice lowered as if saying the name aloud might summon the man like those stories of Bloody Mary Cameron had feared as a child.

Her next breath caught in her throat. Despite the way her heart raced in her chest, she forced herself to remain calm as she asked, “He’s that guy from the big island, right? The one they say is a mobster?” She tried to infuse her voice with wonder and curiosity, but the task was difficult while battling the ice running through her veins.

Edmund nodded, oblivious to anything odd about her behavior. “That would explain some of the things we found washed up on shore this morning.”

He motioned down the beach where two uniformed men stood by a pile of rubbish. Not that it mattered if police officers or government officials found anything illegal on Victor Roberts. The man owned the government on the big island and all the surrounding islands. Nothing would stop that man but death.