He cleared his throat. ‘None.’
‘Shame.’ Her tone was a mixture of humour and weary acceptance. ‘This is one of those occasions when I need to refer to my handbook on teenagers. Stupidly, I packed it at the bottom of the suitcase. Next time it’s going in my handbag and if necessary I’ll ditch my purse. I apologise for her lack of manners.’ She flushed self-consciously and looked away. ‘You’re staring at me, Dr McKinley. You’re thinking I should have better control over my child.’
Yes, he was staring. Of course he was staring.
All the men on Glenmore were going to be staring.
Ryan realised that she was waiting for him to say something. ‘I’m thinking you can’t possibly be old enough to be that girl’s mother. Is she adopted?’ Damn. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.
‘No, she’s all mine. I have sole responsibility for the behavioural problems. But it’s refreshing to hear I don’t look old enough. According to Lexi, I’m a dinosaur. And she’s probably right. I certainly feel past it—particularly right now, when I’m going to have to get firm with her in public. Oh, joy.’ The wind flipped a strand of hair across her face and she anchored it with her fingers. ‘You’re still staring, Dr McKinley. I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting.’
So was he.
He wasn’t ready to feel this. Wasn’t sure he wanted to feel this.
Mistrusting his emotions, Ryan ran a hand over his neck, wondering what had happened to his powers of speech. ‘You must have been a child bride. Either that or you have shares in Botox.’
‘Child bride.’ There was a wistful note to her voice, and something else that he couldn’t decipher. And then she lifted her eyebrows as the girl flounced off the ferry. ‘Well, that’s a first. She’s doing something I want her to do without a row. I wonder what made her co-operate. Lexi—’ she lifted her voice slightly ‘—come and meet Dr McKinley.’
A slender, moody teenager stomped towards them.
Ryan, who had never had any trouble with numbers, couldn’t work out how the girl in front of him could be this woman’s daughter. ‘Hi, there. Nice to meet you.’
Eyes exactly like her mother’s stared back at him. ‘Are you the one who gave my mum this job? You don’t look like anything like a doctor.’
Ryan wanted to say that Jenna didn’t look like the mother of a teenager, but he didn’t. ‘That’s because I didn’t have time to shave before I met the ferry.’ He rubbed his fingers over his roughened jaw. ‘I am a doctor. But I didn’t give your mother the job—that was my colleague, Dr McNeil.’
‘Well, whatever you do, don’t put her in charge of family planning. As you can probably tell from looking at me, contraception is so not her specialist subject.’
‘Lexi!’ Jenna sounded mortified and the girl flushed.
‘Sorry. It’s just—oh, never mind. Being in this place is really doing my head in.’ Close to tears, the teenager flipped her hair away from her face and stared across the quay. ‘Is there an internet café or something? Any way of contacting the outside world? Or are we using Morse code and smoke signals? Or, better still, can we just go home, Mum?’
Ryan was still watching Jenna. He saw the pain in her eyes, the exasperation and the sheer grit and determination. She looked like someone who was fighting her way through a storm, knowing that there was no shelter.
Interesting, he mused, that Glenmore so often provided a bolthole for the wounded.
He wondered what these two were escaping.
Sensing that Jenna was hideously embarrassed, he knew he ought to say something—but what did he know about handling teenagers? Nothing. And he knew even less about what to say to soften the blow of teenage rudeness. Assuming that something along the lines of she’ll be leaving home in another four years wouldn’t go down well, Ryan opted to keep his mouth shut.
He’d never raised a child, had he?
Never been given that option. Anger thudded through him and he stilled, acknowledging that the feelings hadn’t gone away. He’d buried them, but they were still there.
Taking an audible breath, Jenna picked up their bags. ‘We’re renting a cottage at West Beach. Is there a bus that goes that way?’
‘No bus. There are taxis, but before you think about that I have a favour to ask.’
‘What favour can I possibly do you already?’
Ryan gently prised the suitcases from her cold fingers, sensing the vulnerability hidden beneath layers of poise and dignity. ‘I know you’re not supposed to officially start until tomorrow, but we’re snowed under at the surgery. I’m supposed to exert my charm to persuade you to start early, only I was up three times in the night so I’m not feeling that charming. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack and say yes.’
‘You do house-calls?’
‘Is that surprising?’
‘The doctors I worked with rarely did their own house-calls. It was the one thing—’ She broke off and smiled at him, obviously deciding that she’d said too much.
‘On Glenmore we can’t delegate. We don’t have an out-of-hours service or a local hospital—it’s just the three of us.’ He looked at her pointedly. ‘Four now. You’re one of the team.’ And he still wasn’t sure what he thought about that.
‘Are you sure you still want me? You’re sure you don’t want to rethink my appointment after what Lexi just said?’ Her tone was light, but there was vulnerability in her eyes that told him she was worrying about her daughter’s comments.
Ryan was surprised that she was so sensitive to what others might be thinking. Out of the blue, his mind drifted to Connie. Connie hadn’t given a damn what other people thought. She’d been so monumentally selfish and self-absorbed that it had driven him mad.
‘Your qualifications are really impressive. We’re delighted to have you here. And the sooner you can start the better.’
‘I spoke to Evanna McNeil on the phone.’ She turned her head and checked on her daughter. ‘She’s arranged for us to pick up the keys to the cottage this morning. I was going to spend the day settling in and start work tomorrow.’
‘The cottage isn’t far from here. And I know you were supposed to have today to settle in, but if there is any way I can persuade you to start work this morning that would be fantastic. There’s a clinic starting at eight-thirty, and the girl who helps Evanna with the kids is off sick so she has to look after the children. I’d cancel it, but we’re already overrun because we’ve been down a nurse for a few months.’
‘But if the clinic starts at eight-thirty that’s just half an hour from now.’ Jenna glanced at her watch, flustered by his request, working out the implications. ‘I want to help, of course. Normally I’d say yes instantly, but—well, I haven’t made any arrangements for Lexi.’
‘I’m not six, Mum. I’ll stay on my own.’ The girl looked round with a despairing look on her face. ‘I’m hardly likely to get into danger here.’
Ryan had a feeling that the child would be capable of getting into trouble in an empty room, and Jenna was clearly of the same opinion because she looked doubtful.
‘I’m not leaving you on your own until we’ve both settled