Her phone rang sharply and she pulled it out of her pocket.
‘Dr Halliday? Are you here yet?’ It was a deep voice and one she didn’t recognise.
‘That depends. What “here” do you mean? And who are you?’
‘Sorry. It’s Logan Scott. One of the GPs you’ll be working with. I needed to see if you could cover a shift.’
She let out a laugh. ‘Cover a shift? I’ve just got here. And my house isn’t painted. A window’s broken, I haven’t unpacked a thing and I would have no one to look after my daughter. So, Dr Scott, I don’t think I’ll be covering any shifts any time soon.’ She winced at the snarky tone in her voice. She was taking her frustrations out on a perfect stranger—and, worse still, a new workmate.
‘You have a daughter? I didn’t know that.’
She felt herself bristle. What did that mean? And what business of his was it that she had a daughter? But he continued, ‘You’re at the cottage? I’ll be there in two minutes.’
Before she could say another thing he’d hung up. She shook her head and walked back inside, just in time to see the wooden board being taken off the window and the window frame being slid out of place.
The underlay was already down on the floor and was being anchored in place. These removal guys really didn’t waste any time. Then again, she could bet none of them wanted to risk missing the last ferry home and being stranded for the night. She’d been warned in advance that the Arran ferry could be cancelled at the first gust of wind.
She walked along to Isla’s room. Her bed was nestled in the corner with the new bedding and curtains sitting on top of it. Isla was on the floor with one of her boxes upended and toys spread across the floor. She was already in a world all of her own.
Gemma’s eyes ran over the room and she gave a groan. No curtain poles. She hadn’t even given it a thought. She’d just assumed there would be some still in place. Another thing to add to the list.
Isla’s oak wardrobe and chest of drawers had been put in place—in the exact spots where Gemma would have positioned them herself. Most of Isla’s clothes were in the car—still on their hangers—it would only take a few minutes to pick them up and start to get Isla’s room ready.
She walked outside and opened her car door. The wind was starting to whip her dress around her legs and she grabbed it as she leaned inside to grab a handful of Isla’s clothes. The last hanger slid from her hands on to the floor between the front seats and the back. She leaned further, her feet leaving the ground as she stretched as far as she could, just as the biggest gust of wind caught her dress and billowed it upwards.
‘Well, there’s a sight I don’t see every day.’
‘What?’ Panic filled her chest as her cheeks flared with heat. Her left hand thrust out behind her and caught the wayward fabric of her dress, pulling it back firmly over her underwear as she scrambled back out the car, pulling Isla’s clothes with her. Several of the items landed on the ground at her feet. So much for keeping everything on their hangers to save time.
She pushed her hair out of her face. She couldn’t really see properly. The cheeky stranger was standing with his back to the bright sun, which was glaring directly at her.
‘Look, Mummy!’ shouted Isla. ‘There’s one! I told you we’d find you a boyfriend on Arran!’
Her eyes adjusted. Oh, no. Just what she needed. A tall, almost dark and very handsome stranger with a smattering of stubble across his face. Her biggest vice.
Ground, open up and swallow me now. Complete and utter mortification.
What else could go wrong?
* * *
Logan didn’t know who to be more amused with. The little girl for just embarrassing her mum to death, or the rogue dress and sea winds, which had just given him a glimpse of some lovely pink satin underwear.
He held out his hand. He’d love to stay here all day, but he really needed to get things sorted. ‘Logan Scott. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ There it was. The light floral scent that he’d thought was floating in the air was actually coming from her. Hmm. He could get used to that.
Her cheeks were scarlet. Her long curly brown hair with lighter tips was flapping around her face like mad, caught in the brisk sea winds, and her dress was once again joining in the fun. He hadn’t expected her to look quite so young. Then again, he hadn’t expected her to have a child either. Maybe he should have paid a little more attention when his colleagues had said they had recruited someone for the summer.
The dress was really playing havoc with her. Now the pink and white material was plastered back across her body, revealing every curve, every slope and the outline of her underwire bra. Having glimpsed one half of her underwear he tried not to wonder if it was a matching set.
It was obvious she was trying to collect her thoughts. She held out her slim hand towards his outstretched one and grasped it firmly—as if she was trying to prove a point. ‘Are you always so forward with your colleagues, Dr Scott?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Only if they look like you. Welcome to Arran, Dr Halliday.’
The little girl waved her hand. ‘Come and see my new room, it’s beautiful.’
Gemma tucked her hair behind her ears and thrust the pile of clothes she had in her hands towards him. Her embarrassment was still apparent, but it was clear she intended to get past it. ‘You might as well make yourself useful. These are Isla’s. Just hang them up in her cupboard.’
For a second he was stunned. Then a smile crept across his face. It wasn’t any more presumptuous than he’d just been. Maybe he’d just met his female equivalent?
He followed the little red-haired girl into the house and fumbled with her clothes. Most of the hangers had tangled together and some of the dresses landed in a heap at his feet as he tried to slot them in the wooden wardrobe.
‘Careful with this one. It’s my favourite.’
She held up a pale blue dress with some obvious netting underneath. A little-girl princess-style dress. The kind of thing his sister would love.
He took the dress and carefully put it on a hanger. ‘There we go. Do you want to hang it up yourself?’
She shook her head, her curls bouncing around her. ‘No. Mum says that’s your job.’ Like mother, like daughter.
‘How old are you, Isla? It is Isla, isn’t it?’
She smiled. One of her front teeth was missing. ‘I’m five. I’ll be going to the big school after the summer.’
He nodded. ‘There’s a lovely primary school just around the corner. I’ll show you it later if you like.’ He pointed to her tooth. ‘Did the tooth fairy come?’
She rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. ‘No, silly. The tooth fairy only comes if a tooth falls out by itself.’
He straightened his back. ‘Why, what happened to yours?’
She sighed. She’d gone back to her dolls and had obviously lost interest in him now. ‘I got it knocked out when I was playing football.’
He blinked. So the little curly-haired redhead who liked princess dresses was actually a tomboy?
Gemma appeared at the door with another pile of clothes, which she started automatically hanging in the wardrobe. ‘I can see Isla’s entertaining you with her terrifying tales.’
Logan gave a slow nod. ‘Football?’
Gemma nodded. ‘Football. Is there a team she can join?’
‘At five?’
‘Yes. She was in a mixed team back in Glasgow. They played in a mini-league.’
Logan leaned against the wall and folded his arms. ‘I think the primary school has a football team, but I’m sure it’s the primary six and sevens. We can ask at the surgery, someone is bound to know.’
Gemma finished hanging her clothes and turned around. ‘I’m not really sure what you’re doing here, Logan. I certainly won’t be ready to start work for a while. Look around. My contractor hasn’t appeared and one of the windows is broken.’ She ran her hand through her tangled hair. ‘And I have no idea where to start wi
th that one. The estate agent isn’t even answering her phone.’
Logan glanced at his watch. ‘That’s because it’s a Thursday and it’s two o’clock. Nancy Connelly will be getting her hair done.’
Gemma’s chin almost bounced off the floor. What did she expect? Logan had spent most of his life on this island and could tell her the ins, outs and daily habits of just about everyone.