‘Sounds good. Anything else?’
‘You’d have to be good at walking up mountains. We’re the back-up team if things go wrong up there—and you’d be amazed how often that happens in the summer with the tourists.’
He raised an impressed eyebrow. ‘You’re a Jill of all trades, then. I remember going out to help before I went to medical school. I enjoyed it, so you can count me in.’
‘You sound as if you’ve made up your mind!’
‘I suppose I have,’ he said cautiously. ‘A germ of an idea came to me when I was resting upstairs about how I might raise some money to restore Ardenleigh House—and that makes me feel quite excited about the future here.’
‘So that’s a yes, is it?’
He nodded and smiled. ‘Probably. As I said, there are just one or two things I need to clarify, but I think they can be resolved.’
‘Then we’ll need to hammer out some sort of an agreement for the partnership...’ A moment’s misgiving as Christa flicked a glance at his self-assertive face—she could imagine he’d want his own way on quite a few matters, and she certainly wouldn’t give in easily! ‘When can you start? How much notice do you have to give?’
‘I’m due a few weeks’ holiday—I’ll use that in lieu of notice.’
‘What about your stuff—won’t you have to go back and pack?’
He shrugged. ‘I travel light so I’ve brought all I need. I’ve a friend who’ll arrange to have things shipped out if I need them.’
Christa bit her lip. Was she being foolish, leaping into work with someone she knew nothing about? Then she gave a mental shrug. The man was here and available and she was desperate for help, and in any case how could she stop him? She’d just have to hope he was efficient.
‘I’ll see you, then, in a week, with the proviso of a six months’ probationary period to see if it works, and that we’ll be equal partners. I’ll put it in writing.’ She looked at her watch and stood up. ‘I’ve got to fly and see my mother. I usually pop in on a Sunday evening.’
‘Your mother still lives in the area?’
‘Oh, yes. She has a little flat near me and she loves it there. She’s made a good life for herself since my father died.’
Christa got up and Lachlan went with her to the door. It was getting dark now and the courtyard light made deep shadows against the walls. Drops of rain had started to fall, and there was a soft, sweet smell of damp earth on the cool air. Autumn was on its way, and soon the soft purple heather and greens of the glens would be replaced by sparkling frost and snow on the hills.
He’d missed those definitive seasons, and although he’d had a ball in Australia, there had been times when a certain tune, the waft of scent of the sea, or a Scottish voice passing him on the street, would stir a longing in him to be back in Errin Bridge. He should have come back before, he thought sadly, and not allowed his stubborn nature to dictate his life.
Titan, standing beside Christa, suddenly stiffened, the hackles on his neck rising. Then he gave a low growl before breaking into a cacophony of barking.
‘What is it, old boy? Calm down...’
Titan took no notice and suddenly darted across the yard, still barking at full pitch.
‘There’s someone there,’ said Lachlan in a low voice, putting a restraining hand on Christa’s arm. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns out to be one of your pesky thieves.’
CHAPTER TWO
THEY STOOD FOR a moment on the doorstep, looking towards the barns, the outside light from the surgery casting a beam across the courtyard and the ladder that Lachlan had been using. It was raining heavily now and the sound of it drummed on the roof and made huge puddles across the yard.
Then above that sound there was a muffled crash as if something heavy had fallen. A scream came from one of the outbuildings, and a hooded youth ran out into the beam of light, the raindrops silver as they landed on his frightened face. He looked wildly around and then darted back into the building. Titan barked excitedly and rushed after him.
Christa drew in a sharp breath. ‘I know that boy—it’s Carl Burton. He’s a patient! What’s he doing in the barn?’
‘I’m not waiting to find out,’ growled Lachlan. ‘Is there a torch anywhere?’
He ran quickly across the yard and Christa flew to the surgery, scrabbling round in a drawer to find a torch, and instinct telling her to grab the emergency medical bag she kept locked in a cupboard by her desk. She was back in the barn inside two minutes.
The light in the outbuilding was dim, but in the torch’s beam they saw a boy lying on the floor, ominously still, his legs splayed at an awkward angle. His face was so pale that the large gash over his forehead looked as if it had been painted on. A piece of wood had fallen from the roof and was wedged above him at an angle. Carl Burton crouched by the victim’s side and he looked up at Christa and Lachlan with a mixture of fear and bravado on his face.
‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Lachlan, darting forward and pushing Carl out of the way. ‘Let me see what the damage is.’
Carl backed away from the victim. ‘Is he dead?’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘Has he been killed?’
Lachlan put his fingers on the boy’s neck to feel his carotid artery. He raised his eyes to Christa’s questioning look and nodded. ‘He’s still with us...better get some help, PDQ.’
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Carl blurted out. ‘Greg saw that ladder. I told him not to climb on the roof, but he did. He was being stupid, standing on one foot and waving his arms about. Then he...he...dropped, like a stone...’ He stopped, putting his hands over his face.
‘That’s why he’s got to be treated as quickly as possible.’ Lachlan’s voice was brusque. ‘It’s lucky we were here.’
Christa pulled her mobile out of her pocket and flicked it open, punching out numbers. She walked over to the doorway as she spoke, glancing back at Lachlan bent over the victim’s body. Christa felt an almighty surge of thankfulness that she wasn’t alone in having to cope with things.
‘Ambulance and the police services, please—Dr Lennox here from the Ardenleigh Practice in Errin Bridge. I need the air ambulance for a serious leg, head and possible spinal injury to a youth who’s fallen from a roof just by the practice. My colleague and I will try and stabilise him, but he needs hospitalisation without delay. If you could inform St Luke’s to have an orthopaedic surgeon and anaesthetist on standby, please.’
‘We’ll have to do our best until they get here,’ observed Lachlan. He pulled back the upper lids of the boy’s eyes. ‘Pupils dilated,’ he murmured to himself, then examined the victim’s body, checking his head and other visible injuries. ‘He’s not bleeding too much from this head wound...’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ Carl looked up at Lachlan hopefully.
‘I’m afraid it’s not the same as just banging your head on a cupboard. Hitting your head at speed can give rise to arterial bleeding, and he’s had a tremendous crack to his forehead, besides his possible back and neck injuries and a broken leg.’
Christa bit her lip. Had the boy’s spine survived the impact of falling from the roof? Could they keep him alive until the paramedics arrived with their specialist equipment? She looked closely at the young boy’s face, where a bruise was developing around the gash on his forehead.
She drew in her