Single Father, Wife Needed

Evanna slipped back into the changing room and wriggled out of the dress.

The dress made her feel good. Feminine. But it was an extravagance she couldn’t afford.

Wearing her jeans and T-shirt, she stepped out of the changing room with the dress over her arm and the shoes dangling from her fingers. ‘It’s too expensive, Kyla.’

‘It’s in the sale.’ Alison, who owned the boutique, strolled up to them and named a price that made Evanna stare.

‘But it can’t possibly be that cheap. I saw the tag.’

‘I haven’t forgotten what you did for Mum when she was ill,’ Alison said gruffly, removing the tag and taking the dress and shoes from Evanna. ‘Call it a thank-you from me.’

Evanna was embarrassed. ‘You really don’t have to—’

‘I want to,’ Alison said gruffly, folding the dress around tissue paper and sliding it into a bag. ‘My mum always said you were an angel. You deserve to look like one.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘THIS is an emergency and I have private health care,’ boomed a man’s voice. ‘Just get me a doctor. Call the helicopter or whatever it is you do around these godforsaken parts!’

Evanna heard the commotion in the reception area from her room and hurried out at the same time as Logan.

It was two days after her arrival home and she’d been working non stop to catch up with everything that she’d missed while she’d been away.

The man was looming over the desk, his expression threatening. Sweat beaded on his brow and his stomach bulged against a T-shirt that was too tight. ‘We’re only here for a week. If I waste a morning, that’s a chunk of my holiday gone!’

‘Obviously we’re doing our best to see everyone,’ Janet said smoothly, ‘but Dr Walker was called out on an emergency and Dr MacNeil is seeing his patients, too, and that means that—’

‘I keep telling you I have private health care! I can pay.’ The man pulled a fat wallet out of his back pocket and lifted an eyebrow. ‘How much to jump the queue?’

Logan stepped up behind him. ‘We don’t offer private health care,’ he said calmly, his ice-blue eyes narrowed and assessing as he looked at the man. ‘Here on Glenmore, it isn’t necessary. People get seen according to need. If there’s no urgency, they wait in line.’

‘Well, then, you need to organise yourselves a bit better,’ the man spluttered, ‘because the line is too long!’

‘My partner has had to attend a sick patient,’ Logan explained, his voice reasonable, ‘so I’m running two lists at the moment. We’re seeing patients in the order they arrived, unless someone has an urgent condition.’

‘That girl—’ the man pointed a finger at little Nicola Horsfield, who shrank closer to her mother ‘—came in after me and she’s going in next.’

‘Nicola is severely asthmatic and the heat is bothering her. She’s six years old. Do you feel that your medical condition requires you to go in front of her?’

Evanna watched from the doorway but not because her presence was needed. Just because she couldn’t help herself. Logan was such a master at dealing with difficult people that watching him wa

s a pleasure.

He managed to sound pleasant and reasonable while staying in complete control of the situation.

The man frowned. ‘It isn’t about queue jumping—’

‘There’s one doctor and a line of people. That’s generally called a queue.’

‘You could get me a helicopter to the mainland.’

Logan lifted an eyebrow. ‘Are you bleeding, suffering severe chest pains or having breathing problems?’

‘No, but—’

‘Are you in imminent danger of death or collapse?’

‘No, but—’