Secrets (Hope Bay) Read online

  Even worse, if he found out what she’d been accused of, what would he do? Even though she was innocent? Not to mention that…

  At the thought of an unsavoury reaction, her guts curdled, causing her to shiver.

  “No,” she whispered. “No, it can’t go further. Anyway, it probably won’t go further. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that’s all.” She pondered the tip of CK’s tail where it lazily flicked in the grass. “Maybe he already knows. He’s bound to know. Doc knows. Doc would have told him, right?”

  Maybe Doc hadn’t told him. Maybe Doc had but Shane didn’t care. Maybe she could ask Doc. But if he hadn’t told Shane, would that make him decide to? What consequence would that have?

  “Argh.” She scowled. “Bloody tangled webs.” Pushing upright, she braced her hands on her hips and looked down at CK, who hadn’t budged an inch except to regard her through half-closed eyes. “Life is easy when you’re a cat.”

  CK’s tail flicked.

  “You didn’t have to do anything to get roast chicken. In fact, if I hadn’t mentioned it, Shane wouldn’t have cooked it for you. He only cooked it because he…because I mentioned it. Because he wanted to win you over.” After several seconds of silence, Emma threw her hands up in the air. “Cripes! He cooked it to impress me!” She paused. “Or not. It’s stupid. Why try to impress me?”

  Because he’s attracted to you. Like you’re attracted to him.

  “Stupid. Give it a couple of days and he’ll know it’s stupid.”

  Why? What’s wrong with him being attracted to you?

  “Because that road has some potholes that I’m not sure I want to try and navigate.” Dropping her head forward, she gently nudged CK with the toe of her sandal. “The new beginnings I’d planned didn’t included romance, Cute Kitty. Plus I have no idea if Shane is thinking of romance, or just lust, or maybe it’s just a passing fancy.”

  A tinge of sadness made her sigh. If it hadn’t been for that stupid happening she wouldn’t be so scared. Well, she would, but only about dating a boss who might break up with her and make the work environment uncomfortable. Add the other thing hanging over her head…

  Damn it, it hadn’t hung over her head until Shane had arrived. Well, it had a little, but now there was Shane.

  “Bugger it.” Scowling, she kicked the toe of her sandal into the grass. “Bugger Shane Armand. Bugger him!” With that, she whirled around and stormed into the house, irriatated beyond belief.

  And troubled. So very troubled.

  ~*~

  Uncertain how Shane would react on Monday morning, Emma was relieved when he greeted her as cheerfully as he greeted Harriet. He had his usual morning music playing out into the hallway before the clinic was due to open, had the usual joke with Doc, and then the clinic officially opened, the phone started ringing, patients came and went and the day progressed as normal.

  Except for one thing.

  On her desk she found a note written in Shane’s handwriting check your window sill. Looking over at the window sill, she saw one of those little solar-powered daisies waving to and fro, the leaves going up and down. It made her smile.

  A flower from Shane. Fun gesture…or something else?

  Not sure what to think, she stared at it, half admiring the funny little thing, half uncertain how to respond.

  Just be normal, idiot.

  When he entered the treatment room midmorning, she smiled at him. “It’s cute. Thank you so much.”

  “Very cute.” His eyes were warm as he looked from the bobbing daisy to her. “Like y-” He stopped, cleared his throat. “Like CK.”

  “CK?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

  “Cute Kitty, remember?” He flashed her a grin, then got back to business. “Can you book Arthur Walton in for an INR and BSL check tomorrow, along with a general wellness check? His appointment to see me is eleven o’clock. Can you fit him in before that?”

  Definitely sure of herself when it came to work, Emma checked the appointment list. “I could possibly shuffle it around a bit. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Great.” He hesitated.

  She waited, holding her breath.

  “Thanks,” he finally said, and left.

  Maybe she wasn’t the only one conflicted. Maybe he was regretting making the little flower gesture. Or maybe he wasn’t conflicted at all. Maybe she was reading more into this whole thing.

  “Argh!” She dropped her face into her palms.

  A discreet cough had her snapping upright in the chair to see Harriet in the doorway with Hannah Hambolt behind her.

  “Bad time?” Harriet asked curiously.

  “No, it’s all good.” Emma waved Hannah inside. “Come for your dressing change, I take it?”

  Harriet scrutinised Emma with a quick but intense look before she retreated, leaving Hannah in Emma’s care.

  The rest of the day went quickly, and Emma was relieved to be out the door before Shane had finished with his last patient.

  Early Tuesday morning when she entered the treatment room, her gaze went to the window sill to check out her flower. She had to admit it was a cheery little thing - simple, sweet and a little corny. However, there were now two solar-daisies bobbing their heads and leaves in the sunshine streaming through the window.

  For several seconds she just stood and watched them, a little sliver of warmth filling her before she smiled slowly.

  So. Darn. Sweet.

  Turning around, she made her way to Shane’s office. The music spilling out of the open door was testament to his presence. He was sitting at the computer with what appeared to be pathology test results up on the screen. The tip of a silver pen tapped lightly against his chin as he pursed his lips while studying the results.

  She knocked on the door frame. “Hi.”

  He glanced up, saw her and immediately swung the swivel chair around to face her, his posture relaxed, thighs spread apart, one forearm resting on the desktop while he tapped the pen on his slack-clad thigh. “Em. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m here about the daisies.”

  “CA.”

  She blinked. “Pardon?”

  “Cute As.”

  “CK?”

  “CA.”

  “I’m a little confused.”

  “I’m not.” He winked. “And that’s all that matters.”

  “Right.” Not sure what to think, she took refuge in good manners. “They are really cute. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” He flipped the pen onto the desk. “Doing anything tomorrow night?”

  Was he inviting her out? Did she want to accept? Would she sound desperate if she said no, or panicked if she said yes? Wait a minute, you twit, you are going out! She did a mental head smack. Saved by the bell. “Actually, I’m going to Katie’s.”

  “Okay.” His expression remained pleasant.

  Was he upset? Disappointed? Okay, maybe she was reading more into everything he did or said. It was becoming a bad habit. He was probably just being polite.

  “Zombie night,” she added.

  “Zombie night.”

  “We both like watching Zombie Days.”

  You watch Zombie Days on zombie night.”

  “When you say it like that it’s a little confusing, but yes.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “Right. Yes, well, must get back to my patients.” She retreated quickly.

  Once in the privacy of the treatment room, she flopped into the chair, folded her arms on the desk and dropped her head onto them with a groan. How can I sound so stupid? Seriously, can’t I think of some other way to-

  “This is becoming a habit,” Harriet said from the doorway. “Now what?”

  “Not enough sleep.” Emma sat up, plastered a smile on her face and swung around in the chair, only to groan inwardly at the sight of Shane hovering behind Harriet with his eyebrows raised.

  “Maybe Shane should check you out,” Harriet suggested.

&n
bsp; “Be my pleasure,” Shane said. “Come into my off-”

  “No!” At the sight of Harriet’s eyebrows now shooting upwards to her hairline and Shane’s amused expression, Emma took a deep, calming breath. “I mean, no need. I’m fine. I’ll get an early night tonight and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

  “Just don’t kill any patients today,” Harriet advised. “The paperwork would kill us. Oh!” She snorted a laugh. “Get it? Kill and kill?” She guffawed loudly.

  Shane chuckled appreciatively. “Good one.”

  It was with relief that Emma saw them both leave - Shane for his office and Harriet for the reception.

  When they closed for lunch, she sat at the kitchen table with Harriet opposite her. They had just unwrapped their sandwiches when Doc came through the door with his wife close behind carrying a basket covered with a checked cloth.

  “Scones for everyone,” Mrs A announced. “I baked them especially for all you hard workers.”

  “Yes!” Harriet quickly wrapped her sandwiches back up and tossed them aside. “Em, get the butter and Vegemite!”

  “There’s jam and cream, too.” Doc placed a plastic bag on the table.

  Emma’s mouth watered as the scent of freshly baked scones filled the air. “Thank you, Mrs A. You really shouldn’t have.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Shane strode into the room, his gaze zeroing straight onto the basket. “Of course she should have!”

  “Be a good boy.” Mrs A smacked his backside lightly as he passed her.

  “Always was a spoiled brat.” Doc pointed to the kettle. “Put on some more hot water, boy, and earn your keep.”

  “Slave driver.” Shane filled the kettle and plugged it in. “You staying, Mum?”

  “Of course.”

  Minutes later, everyone was sitting around the table with warm scones on their plates, passing around butter, Vegemite, jam and cream, depending on who wanted what.

  Personally, Emma loved butter and Vegemite on fresh scones, and she sank her teeth into the goodness with a blissful moan of delight. “Oh gosh, Mrs A, you are the best.”

  “Love a woman who can cook,” Shane stated.

  “And a man who can roast a chook,” Emma added.

  Doc snorted a laugh.

  The look Shane cut at her held a definite wicked gleam.

  Remembering what he’d said about dire consequences if anyone found out about his offering to CK, she quickly turned to Doc. “You don’t cook, Doc?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he replied. “I burn water.”

  “Why do you think he married me?” Mrs A slathered cream on her scone.

  “For her looks, her cooking, and her ironing skills,” Doc said. “Her cleaning skills are admirable, too.”

  “Don’t forget balancing your books.”

  “You do that to cover your spending.”

  Mrs A gave a mock gasp of outrage. “Harriet, did you hear what he said?”

  “I’m telling you, Avery, it’s a man’s job to whinge and whine about us,” Harriet replied.

  “That’s big, fat fib!” Doc placed one hand on his chest. “Concocted, no doubt, by women in an attempt to overthrow us men.”

  “We’d do a better job,” Harriet said.

  “Here, here.” Mrs A toasted her with a cup of hot tea.

  As the three happily tossed insults around, Emma relaxed. Having successfully diverted the subject from Shane and cooking, she enjoyed the family atmosphere around the table while cutting another scone in half. She had just scooped her knife blade through the butter when Shane’s knife appeared in her line of vision to deftly scoop the butter from her knife to his, leaving her gaping in surprise.

  “You owe me.” He grinned and winked.

  “What? Why?”

  “You almost tossed me to the wolves with the roast remark.” He spoke quietly so only she could hear him. “Close, Em, you trod very close to the line that time.”

  His words ran a thrill through her, but she kept her expression calm. “I owe you nothing, seeing as how I didn’t throw you to the wolves.”

  “It was close.”

  “Being close isn’t the same as crossing it.”

  “Hmm.” Expression thoughtful, he buttered his scone .

  She wondered what he was thinking while she was having a little spark of excitement coursing through to her very core at the sudden fantasy of what he’d do to her if she did cross the line.

  Emma crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. Geez, what had Mrs A put in the scones? Some kind of libido enhancing powder or something?

  Shane cut his eyes to her again and cripes, the way he did it had her gulping. His head was tilted down, but his eyelids rose lazily to reveal a piercing gaze that was at once both a little hot and a little predatory.

  Was he actually thinking of the kind of retribution he’d give her?

  “I didn’t cross the line.” Okay, she tried to say it calmly but it came out a lot squeakier which, in turn, created a threefold effect.

  Shane’s eyes gleamed brighter, everyone at the table stopped talking, and Mrs A inquired concernedly, “Are you all right, dear? Is that naughty boy teasing you?”

  Shane being regarded as a naughty boy was so ridiculous that Emma laughed right in his face.

  “Thanks, Mum,” he said. “Because I’m a grown-up, apparently.”

  “Behave yourself. You’re making poor Em flustered.”

  “No, really, he’s not.” Emma felt her cheeks burn as his grin widened. “Will you stop it?”

  “Yeah, Mum, stop it.”

  “I meant you.”

  “What’d I do?”

  She opened her mouth, only to snap it shut again. What could she say while he was, watching her with a teasing glint that - oh gosh, surely not? - held a hint of heat, his mother tsked, Harriet watched like a hawk, and Doc spread cream lavishly on his scone while his wife wasn’t watching.

  Like that did him any good.

  “I saw that!” She whipped the cream bowl out of his reach. “You’ve had your quota of cream. Good gravy, what about your cholesterol level? This is exactly where your son gets his bad habits from!”

  “Shane doesn’t need my help to develop bad habits.” Doc took a big bite of scone, the rest of his reply muffled by food. “He has plenty of his own.”

  Mrs A shook her head, but her eyes twinkled at her husband.

  Taking her hand, Doc gave it a loving squeeze.

  Harriet’s attention switched between Emma and Shane. “Something going on I should know about?”

  “Nothing’s going on,” Emma assured her. “You heard Mrs A, Shane has his dad’s bad habits.”

  “Like that’s something new.” Harriet’s gaze fastened on Shane munching away on scone, jam and cream. “Something to share?”

  “Nope.” Licking jam and cream off his thumb, he winked at Emma. “Not a thing.”

  “Hmm.” Still staring at him, Harriet took a sip of hot tea.

  “Speaking of parents,” Shane said idly, his expression now polite curiosity, “where do your parents live, Em?”

  This was safer ground. “They’re actually not alive.”

  He paused. “They’re not? I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. They had a car accident on their way home from a party one night. I was eleven years old.”

  “So who brought you up?”

  “I didn’t have family. I grew up in a foster home.”

  He lowered the half eaten scone back to his plate. “That must have been hard.”

  “It was at first,” she agreed. “But they were a nice couple. I was one of many but they treated us all well. We were clothed, fed and educated.”

  “Are you still in touch with them?”

  “No. Well, you know, a Christmas card now and again, but we’re not close.” Taking refuge in her cup, Emma drained the last few mouthfuls, acutely aware of everyone listening. “Still.” She smiled brightly. “Here I am, watching you all doing
the family thing.”

  Reaching over the table, Mrs A patted her hand. “You’re part of our family, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

  Oh cripes, she hadn’t meant to hint at anything. “Oh, Mrs A, I didn’t mean - I mean, working here is like working in a family and-”

  “Just consider us family,” Mrs A continued. “If you ever need to talk, you can come to me. The thought of you being alone in the world…” She shook her head.

  “Em’s not leaving us,” Doc stated with confidence. “This is her job, her home, her town. New beginnings, Emma, hmm?” He winked.

  “Yes,” she managed. “And I’m right at home, thank you.”

  “No siblings?” Shane probed.

  “Only child.” Emma shrugged. “It’s okay.” At the sympathy she saw in his eyes, the same sympathy reflected in the eyes of every other person at the table even though they already knew she was alone, she decided to switch the topic. “Anyway, how are you finding it, working back in your home town? Are you settling in?”

  Shane continued to watch her while pushing his empty plate away. “It’s like I never left.”

  “Really?” Doc queried. “’Cause I don’t remember you taking people’s temperatures or blood pressures before you left.”

  “I took yours.”

  “With that dinky plastic doctor’s stethoscope you got for your fifth birthday.”

  “You wouldn’t let me take your temperature.”

  “You had some weird idea of where the thermometer was supposed to go.” Doc turned to Emma. “Let me tell you, he had our poor dogs bandaged up every time I turned around. Was forever hounding them to-” he broke off with a snort of amusement. “Dogs and hounding, get it? Avery? Harriet?” He guffawed and slapped his knee.

  “Ah, geez.” Mrs A sighed.

  “This is what I have to work with,” Harriet informed her.

  “Oh that note, I’m going home to peace and quiet.” Mrs A stood up and started packing the empty container of cream, the jar of jam, and the empty plate back into the basket. “Now, Emma, honey, you remember that you’re welcome at our place anytime, you hear?”

  “Thanks.” Emma took her plate and cup to the sink. “I’m fine, though.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Mrs A kissed Doc’s cheek, patted Shane’s cheek, and left with a cheery, “Anytime, Em, you’re welcome any time.”