Bride for Glenmore (5 page)

Ethan let himself into the cottage, changed into his running gear and let himself out of the back of the house. He needed a shower, a shave and a rest, but none of those options tempted him. He didn’t want what he needed.

What he wanted was to run. Fast.

The conversation with Kyla had disturbed him and he didn’t understand why.

All he knew what that he intended to drive out the thoughts from his head with hard exercise.

Despite the sunshine, a strong wind gusted, but Ethan didn’t even notice, his expression grim and intent as he jogged to the end of the garden and down onto the beach.

As soon as his feet hit the sand he picked up speed, his long, powerful legs covering the ground in rhythmic, pounding strides as he pushing his body to its limits. His arms and legs pumped, his heart thumped and the sweat prickled between his shoulder blades, but still he ran, lengthening his stride until his pace would have been the envy of the wind. Still he pushed himself, giving himself no slack.

He ran until the sand ended and the cliff path rose upwards. He hit the slope with a fierce determination, maintaining his punishing speed through a mixture of willpower and physical fitness, his lungs and his muscles screaming a protest that he ignored.

He felt the rapid pumping of his heart as it responded to the demands of physical exertion, felt his body burn as his arms and legs pounded the earth. Felt his brain empty of everything except the need to focus on the physical task in hand.

Run, Ethan. Run.

And if he ran fast enough and hard enough, perhaps none of it would hurt any more.

Kyla stood at the bedroom window and watched.

Ethan ran like a professional athlete.

Or a man with the devil at his heels.

Even from this distance she could sense the grim determination that drove his long stride. She could almost feel the power and force of his body as he took on the elements and pushed himself with almost superhuman effort.

Kyla stared, unable to look away, captivated by the unexpected display of masculinity.

She’d only popped into the house to collect something for her afternoon clinic but then she’d happened to glance out of the window. She’d begun watching out of concern, sure that such physical exertion would cause an injury and then her gaze had turned almost greedy as she realised exactly what she was watching.

A male in his prime, at the peak of physical fitness.

This was no city boy out for a guilt-driven exercise session. This was a man who regularly pushed his body to the limit.

He ran with rhythm and surprising grace, drawing on all the strength and power of his body to meet the challenge he’d set himself.

She couldn’t see his face and yet she knew that his expression would have been set and determined. Focussed. Bleak?

Sensing that his run was more than a desire to raise his pulse rate, Kyla turned away, giving him the privacy he so clearly craved, her curiosity well and truly piqued. Her own body suddenly stirred to an uncomfortable degree.

Who was he?

His cool indifference and aloof approach to life was completely alien to her.

Who was this man who held himself slightly apart from others? And why did he affect her so strongly?

She’d spent too long cooped up on an island with people she knew too well, that was why.

Ethan Walker was a stranger. And when you lived with people who were entirely familiar, strangers were always interesting.

It was no more than that.

She gave herself a mental shake and reminded herself that she had less than ten minutes to get back to the surgery or she’d have Logan on her back.

Logan’s house was attached to the surgery and opened onto a huge garden crowded with mature apple trees.

Fresh from the shower after a busy clinic, Kyla pushed open the back gate and walked straight into the kitchen without knocking.

‘Oh!’ Evanna was standing in front of the range, stirring something in a pot. Her dark hair was caught up in a ponytail, her cheeks were pink from the heat and she was wearing a loose white dress that was summery and pretty. ‘You’re early. Can you pass me the coriander, please?’

‘Coriander?’ Kyla glanced along the work surface in confusion. ‘Is that this green, weedy-looking stuff?’ She picked it up, sniffed and handed it to Evanna. ‘If we’re early, you can blame Ethan’s car. You should see it. All black and very growly. Very high testosterone rating.’ She peered over Evanna’s shoulder into the pot. ‘Is that our dinner? It looks nice, but nothing like barbecued seafood. Did you lose the recipe?’

‘It’s chicken soup, and it’s for Kirsty who hasn’t woken up yet from her nap. Logan is hopeless with routine. He keeps waking her up for a cuddle.’ Evanna swiftly chopped the coriander, sprinkled it on the soup and glanced at her friend, a curious look in her eyes. ‘So I notice you’re calling the new doctor Ethan now? Getting friendly, are you?’

Kyla grinned. ‘No. Not yet. But I could probably be persuaded. You should have seen him running along the beach earlier. I thought my heart was going to stop. What a body! Not that you notice things like that.’

‘I’m not blind, Kyla,’ Evanna said mildly as she stirred the soup slowly. ‘I do know a handsome man when I see one, and Ethan is certainly very good looking.’

‘But?’ Kyla leaned forward and dipped a spoon in the soup, tasting it cautiously. ‘There’s a definite “but” coming. This soup is good. Can I take some for lunch tomorrow?’

‘There’s more to a man than looks, Kyla.’ Evanna gently slapped the back of her hand. ‘Leave the soup alone. It’s for Kirsty.’

‘I’m the royal taster. And there’s plenty more to Ethan than looks.’

Evanna frowned. ‘That’s what worries me. There are dark corners there. And mystery.’

‘Dark corners? Mystery?’ Kyla dropped the spoon in the sink, laughing to hide the effect that Evanna’s words had had on her. ‘You’ve been reading too many Celtic legends. Your imagination is in sprint mode. Spotted any fire-breathing dragons on your rounds?’

Evanna didn’t smile. ‘You can laugh, but I’m right. That man has secrets, Kyla.’

Kyla felt cold fingers of unease stroke her nerve endings. ‘What sort of secrets?’

‘If I knew that, they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? But I don’t think they’re good ones.’ Evanna stopped stirring and her pretty face was serious. ‘There’s something about him,’ she said softly, glancing over her shoulder to check that they were on their own. ‘Can’t you feel it? A hardness. He’s tough—a bit intimidating. I don’t know…’ She gave a shrug, obviously wishing she’d never said anything. ‘Something’s happened in his life, I’m sure of it. Something that he’s living with every day of his life. He has issues.’

‘Well, things have happened in our lives, too,’ Kyla reminded her, trying to shake off the black, threatening cloud that hovered over her happiness, ‘and we’re living with them. We all have issues, Evanna.’

‘That’s true. Just be careful, that’s all. I don’t want to see you hurt by a man.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time.’

Her friend looked at her and her expression softened. ‘You haven’t fallen for anyone since that rat, Mike Robinson, hoisted his sails and left for the mainland. It’s time you found someone. I’m just not sure it should be Ethan. Is there something going on there or is it just wishful imagining on your part?’

‘I’m not imagining the chemistry. I keep thinking we’re going to burn the cottage down every time we look at each other.’ Kyla chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘I just have a feeling he isn’t very pleased about it. He’s fighting it.’

‘Probably because he knows he’s only here for the summer,’ Evanna said briskly. ‘Thank goodness one of you is sensible.’

‘Well, it isn’t me,’ Kyla said lightly. ‘You know I always pick the unsuitable. And what about you? Talking of issues, you’re wearing a white dress to feed my niece chicken soup. A strange choice from where I’m standing, knowing what I do about Kirsty’s aim. You’re going to have serious stain issues.’

Evanna’s colour deepened. ‘I happen to like this dress.’

‘So you should. It suits you. It’s nice to see you in something other than jeans.’ Kyla opened the drawer, fished out a spoon and dipped it into the soup. ‘My brother will probably like it, too. Which, I’m guessing, was the intention.’

Evanna gave a wry smile. ‘Your brother wouldn’t notice me if I stripped naked in front of him and danced a tango.’

Kyla tasted the soup again. ‘I’ve come to the sad conclusion that my brother is obviously thick. One day I’m going to tease him about it. But not before I’ve eaten his seafood. My stomach always comes before sibling conflict.’

‘You mustn’t mention it.’ Evanna gave a faint frown. ‘And to call him thick is just ridiculous when you know just how clever he is. It’s just that he can only think of Catherine. And that’s normal, of course,’ she added hastily, emptying the soup into a blender and securing the lid. ‘She was his wife. He loved her.’

Kyla waited for the noise of the blender to cease before she spoke. ‘Yes, I think he did. But that doesn’t mean he can’t love again.’

Evanna’s eyes met hers. ‘It isn’t going to happen, Kyla. Please stop talking about it.’

Kyla leaned forward and gave her friend a hug. ‘Give him time. Be patient.’ She glanced up as Ethan strolled into the room and suddenly found herself unable to breathe.

‘Logan has the barbecue going.’ His voice was a smooth, cultured drawl. ‘He wants to know what the pair of you are doing in here.’

‘We’re hugging. As friends should. Our Dr Walker isn’t much of a hugger,’ Kyla drawled, releasing Evanna and trying not to stare at Ethan. But it was hard to look away.

On the short car journey from their cottages, she hadn’t had a chance to look at him, but she saw now that he’d showered and shaved and changed into a pair of black jeans and a casual shirt that clung to the muscles of his shoulders. Kyla felt her stomach flip and suddenly discovered that her fingers were shaking. She turned, dropped the spoon into the sink to hide her burning cheeks and gave herself a sharp talking-to. Evanna was right. She knew perfectly well that Ethan was complicated. But he was the only man who had ever made her want to sit down in case her legs gave way. It was pretty hard to ignore that degree of chemistry.

‘We’ll just get the prawns out of the fridge,’ she mumbled, crossing the kitchen and tugging open the door.
Maybe cold air would help.
Plates of fresh seafood confronted her and she lifted them out and handed them to Ethan. ‘Take these out. We’ll follow with the salad.’

‘You go out, Kyla.’ Evanna poured some of the liquid soup into a bowl. ‘I’ll fetch Kirsty and join you in the garden.’

Logan and Ethan immediately started talking about what had happened with Aisla, and Kyla stared at the pile of uncooked food with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

‘Logan, could you cook and then talk? If someone doesn’t feed me soon, my blood sugar will do something dramatic,’ she said in a conversational tone, and her brother lifted an eyebrow in mockery.

‘Is there something wrong with your arms? What’s stopping you putting food on the barbecue?’

‘Possibly the memory of the stomachache I gave everyone last time I cooked.’

‘Good point.’ Logan grinned and she gave him a gentle push.

‘Start cooking or none of us will be eating before midnight. Aisla is fine. And she’s Ethan’s patient now.’

‘She’s coming to see me at the surgery so that I can check her properly and we can talk. I’ll cook.’ Ethan stepped forward and picked up the plate. Soon he was placing food on the barbecue with swift efficiency and Kyla watched in admiration.

‘You cook?’

He sent her an easy smile that had her heart racing. ‘When I have time, I cook.’

Evanna was wrong,
Kyla thought to herself, relaxing slightly. He didn’t have demons. He was just naturally reserved. And here, in their garden, she could see him unwind.

Her theory lasted for as long as it took Kirsty to lift the baby out of her crib and bring her downstairs.

‘You have to stop letting her sleep so late, Logan,’ Evanna scolded gently as she cuddled the wriggling toddler against her body. ‘She needs a routine.’

‘So do I,’ Logan said dryly, snapping the top off a bottle of beer. ‘Would someone mind telling our patients? I need a regular bedtime and regular meals. I can’t function like this. It gives me indigestion.’

‘I’m serious, Logan,’ Evanna said. ‘She’s really hard to settle in the evenings because she doesn’t know whether she’s supposed to be awake or asleep.’

Logan sighed and reached out his arms for his daughter. ‘Routine is overrated,’ he said roughly, as he buried his face in the little girl’s blonde curls. ‘If she goes to bed early then there are some nights when I don’t see her, and I don’t want that. I need cuddles.’

Kyla’s heart shifted as she saw the two of them together and suddenly she found she had a lump in her throat.
He’s a good father,
she thought to herself, and she knew from the soft expression in her friend’s eyes that Evanna was thinking the same thing.

Then she looked at Ethan and something in his eyes caught her attention.

She saw shock, pain and desolation so huge that it almost hurt to watch.

And he was staring at the baby.

‘I offered her some of my home-made soup,’ Evanna was saying as she pulled faces at the little girl, drawing smiles of delight, ‘but she wasn’t interested.’

Had no one else noticed?
Kyla wondered as she moved instinctively towards Ethan. Had no one else noticed the grim set of his mouth or the fact that his entire body was unnaturally still? It was as if he were afraid to move.

Did he hate babies? Had he lost a baby? What could possibly have happened in his life to trigger that sort of reaction?

Her mind sifted through options and came up with nothing concrete.

Perhaps she was just being dramatic. He was single after all. It was perfectly possible that he just didn’t like babies.

‘She doesn’t need soup, she needs attention. Give your daddy a cuddle,’ Logan drawled in a soft voice, and the little girl gurgled with delight and lifted her hand to pull his hair.