The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain

“Look who’s giving orders now.” He pulled on his pants.

She gave him a sassy look over her shoulder. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t.” And he hadn’t. In fact, he had loved it. There it was again, too many feelings. He went to the tent flap and found a tray of food waiting. Carrying it to the chest, he set it down there.

Laurel joined him. Instead of taking the pillow across from him, she pulled hers around so she could sit beside him. “I like being close to you.”

And he liked having her there. They ate their meal in companionable silence. A couple of times Tariq caught her studying him. “Is there a problem?”

“I was just thinking how gorgeous you are. You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen.”

He had been told that he was nice looking before but somehow it mattered more coming from Laurel. “Thank you. You are lovely yourself.”

“Oh, no, I’m not even in the same ballpark as you. The first time I saw you I thought you were the most handsome man I had seen, but now I know it’s both inside and out. Which makes you even more attractive.”

Now she was embarrassing him, which did not happen easily. “I think you are special as well.” His mouth found hers. They broke apart when someone called from outside the tent entrance. “He said there is a queue waiting for us.”

“Then we should get busy.”

“That we should.” Tariq helped her to her feet.

* * *

Over the next few hours they saw patients as quickly as they could. Tariq had requested someone who spoke English to help them. A young man assisted Laurel.

They had been seeing patients for a couple of hours when Laurel called to him. He looked away from the patient he was seeing. “Yes?”

“When you have a second, could you give me a second opinion?”

“One moment.” Tariq liked it that she valued his thoughts. At one point in their relationship he hadn’t been sure she held them in much esteem. He also found he enjoyed working with her. Laurel was efficient and gentle, and truly seemed to care about his people.

Tariq finished with his patient and stepped over to where Laurel stood. Her patient was a young mother who held a small child of about two in her arms. The translator asked the mother if she knew what the child had been drinking.

He gave Laurel a questioning look.

“I think the boy may have worms. Have you ever seen them before?”

Tariq gave the mother a reassuring smile. “No. All my knowledge is from a textbook.”

“Mine too. But that’s all I can come up with for a diagnosis. The mother states that the boy’s stools have been runny, that he wakes often during the night and she is having difficulty keeping him from putting his hands in his diaper.”

Tariq ask the mother to remove the boy’s diaper. Together he and Laurel examined the boy’s bottom. It was an angry red color.

“Has he been eating well?” Tariq asked the mother.

“No.”

“Where are you getting your drinking water from?”

“From the storage bag beside our tent,” the mother answered.

“What did she say?” Laurel demanded. She gave him a determined look. “Translate, please!” She seemed frustrated not to be able to understand things herself.

Tariq repeated what the woman had said.

“You need to explain to her that she will need to dump the water and clean the container with hot water. That pinworms are very contagious. She will need to clean her tent. Even better, she needs to move to another tent. Not share one, and bring nothing with her until the old one is clean. Do you have any medicine to give her?” Laurel was in doctor mode.

“I do not, but I will send a tribe member down to meet someone who will bring it to him.”

“Good. Make sure she understands that they should bathe right now and clean their clothes as well.”

“I will explain. You have made a diagnosis I am not sure I would have arrived at. Well done.”

She sighed then smiled, a look of satisfaction coming over her face. “Thank you. I’ll see another patient at your station while you finish up here.” She did not wait for him to reply before she walked off.

At noon they took a short break for lunch. Once again one of the women in the village brought them a meal.

“Interesting morning?” Tariq asked.

“Yes. I’ve done more clinic work in Zentar in the last few weeks than I have done in years. I have found I missed it. I think I’ll start doing at least one day a week in a clinic when I return home. It’ll keep me in touch with why I went to medical school. To help people.”

Home. A muscle in his jaw jerked. She was still talking about leaving Zentar. Leaving him.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon and Laurel had just finished with her latest patient when Tariq called her.

“Come here a moment. I have a patient I think you would like to meet.”

She joined him along with a man who looked around thirty years old.

“Laurel, I would like you to meet Uric. He has hemophilia.”

She nodded. “Hello Uric. I’m Dr. Martin. It’s nice to meet you.” Tariq translated. She understood when he corrected her name to Dr. Al Marktum. She still wasn’t used to calling herself that. After last night she truly was his wife. She still glowed from their time together.

Laurel looked at Tariq. “Does he mind me asking him some questions and examining him? You will need to translate.”

“Yes, that is fine.”

Over the next half an hour she asked questions with Tariq’s help and took notes. “Would you ask him how he has managed to survived to adulthood living in the tribe? I know he must have been hurt at some time.”

Tariq nodded. When he had finished talking to the man he turned to her. “He was born in the city. He joined the tribe later in life. He keeps a supply of factor. If no one brings him a supply he goes down for it. He only takes factor if he has fallen or cut himself.”

“Ask how his joints feel and if he will walk to the other tent and back.”

Again Tariq translated. “He does have pain after long walks. Especially if it is cold. It has become more frequent.”

Laurel watched the man walk away, paying special attention to his knees. “So he does have the deterioration of the joints that I expected.” She watched carefully as the man returned to them. “Would you ask him if he would be willing to come in for X-rays when he comes to the city again?”

Tariq relayed her request. “He said he will but it will be months from now.”

“Tell him that will be fine. And thank you.” She smiled at the man. But she might not be here when that happened. If her funding did come through, she would be gone. Sadness came over her. Tariq had said nothing about their relationship becoming a real one. She couldn’t base the rest of her life on one night of passion. It took more than that

. She turned to him. “Even if I am not here to see him, will you see that his test results are sent to me?”

Tariq studied her a moment with his now expressionless eyes and spoke to the man, who returned a toothy grin and hobbled away.

She and Tariq finished with the last few people waiting and stored the few supplies they hadn’t given away.

“What will happen with these?” Laurel placed her hand on the boxes of supplies.

“We will leave them here. They will be used. Come, we need to get dressed for the celebration.” Tariq headed for the tent and she joined him.

Laurel entered behind Tariq to find two royal blue traditional gowns with silver braid down the front openings hanging on a tent pole hook. Sitting on the chest was a matching headdress for him, and another that was much like the one she had worn at their wedding. The clothes were extraordinary. She ran her finger along a section of the braid then looked at Tariq.

“The women of the village started working on these as soon as we arrived. They are our wedding gift from the village. We are to wear them tonight.”

“They are absolutely gorgeous.” She couldn’t believe the generosity of these people.

Tariq picked up his bag. “I need to check on my aunt then I’m going to the stream to wash up. So you will have some privacy.”

Laurel had just pulled on the gown when he returned.

“There should be a belt for yours,” Tariq commented as he put his bag down.

Laurel look through the material on the bed and found the belt. It was embellished with silver as well. She tied it at her waist.

Tariq came to her. “Let me help you.” He removed the belt and wrapped it in and out, creating a pattern.

She looked at the top of his head. “If you have to give up being a prince, you can always go into dressing women.”

Tariq straightened and gave her a pointed look. “I would much rather undress them. One in particular.”