Sarah's Gift. Caroline AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER ONE

      IT HAD been years since Sarah had noticed a man—five and a half, to be exact, and most of them not worth remembering.

      She noticed this man, though.

      Not that it was surprising. She would have had to be blind, deaf or hermaphrodite not to sit up and pay attention when he strolled through the double doors into the business end of Audley Memorial’s A and E unit, one hand shoved casually into the pocket of his well-cut trousers, the other dangling a jacket over his shoulder on one finger.

      Tall and fair, his rangy body wasn’t lean enough to be lanky. It looked powerful, well put-together, with a look of Paul Newman about the grey eyes and a mouth just made for kissing. And laughing. And whispering sweet nothings. He also had no business just wandering onto the unit unannounced.

      She slapped the file shut and stood up. ‘Can I help you?’

      His eyes dropped to her name badge, seeming to make a point of reading her name, then they flicked up and locked with hers, and a smile brushed his lips, just briefly. ‘Sister Cooper—I’m Matt Jordan. I believe you’re expecting me?’

      His voice was deep, a little gravelly, with a soft Canadian accent that did odd things to the hairs on the back of her neck. How strange. She gave him a professional smile and ignored the shivers down her spine. ‘Oh, yes. You’ve come to study us, like bugs under a microscope. Welcome to the Audley, Dr Jordan—and to England.’ She went round the desk, held out her hand and had it swamped by long, strong fingers that wrapped around the back of her hand and engulfed it.

      His touch was cool, dry, firm—and businesslike, so why did she experience that strange reaction? She had to fight the urge to snatch her hand back, but the next second, almost as if he knew she was uncomfortable, he freed her and smiled, sliding his hand easily back into that trouser pocket.

      ‘I was told to report to the ER—sorry, A and E! Ryan O’Connor’s expecting me.’

      ‘Yes, he is, but he’s tied up now, so you’ll have to put up with me.’

      He grinned. ‘More likely to be the other way round, and I hope to learn from you, not treat you like a bug.’

      She laughed. ‘Whatever. I’m sure blood’s red both sides of the pond. I’ll have to write you out a glossary of abbreviations—in fact we’ll get Ryan to do it as he’s Canadian too.’

      ‘At least we both speak the same language.’ Laughter touched his mouth, putting her at her ease instantly.

      ‘I shouldn’t bet on it, we’ve trained him pretty well,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘He’s about somewhere—we’re quiet this morning, by a miracle, although that will all change now I’ve gone and opened my big mouth. He’s just seeing a couple of yesterday’s patients who’ve come back for a check-up. He’ll be along in a minute.’

      His brows pleated together. ‘How come you’re quiet? What a luxury.’

      Sarah laughed. ‘Tell me about it. It won’t last. With the cold snap we had over the weekend we’ve had a string of casualties. They had to call Jack Lawrence in overnight, and he’s taken today off as a result so I expect the day will go to hell very shortly. It’s unfortunate, really, because if he’d been here you might have stood a chance of a gentle introduction. As it is I expect you’ll get dragged into Resus before long and flung in at the deep end. It’s been a bit like that recently.’

      He nodded knowingly. ‘We have the same every year but usually a little earlier—our winters tend to be longer. Lots of tumbles?’ he suggested.

      She agreed. ‘Lots. Mostly elderly people with fractured wrists and hips, some youngsters with wrists again or collar bones—the odd coccyx from landing on their bottoms. Then, of course, there are the RTAs—’

      ‘Road Traffic Accidents?’

      She nodded and smiled. ‘That’s right. You call them MVAs, I believe—Motor Vehicle Accidents?’

      He nodded affirmatively and grinned again. ‘Maybe we won’t have such a communication problem.’

      ‘I’m sure we’ll cope. Most of the time we’ll know what we’re doing anyway, so it’s automatic.’ She cocked her head slightly on one side. ‘Fancy a cup of tea or coffee? You’ve arrived at just the right time. All my delegating’s done and my paperwork’s up to date, so I can sit back and relax for five minutes, knowing the only person I’m holding up is myself, and I reckon I deserve it after the weekend.’

      His smile warmed the blue-grey depths of his rather gorgeous eyes. ‘I’d love a cup of coffee. Breakfast seems a long time ago. I had to take my daughter to school on the way here, and the traffic was a bit heavy by the time I finished getting lost.’

      She chuckled. ‘The traffic round here’s always a bit heavy. We get used to it. Come on, let’s go and check the coffee machine. Patrick might have put it on, otherwise it’ll be instant or wait for the machine to finish.’

      ‘We’ll go for instant,’ he said without hesitation. ‘If we wait someone’ll try and waste themselves and we won’t get it at all.’ He followed her down the corridor, his firm, light tread keeping pace with her businesslike bustle easily. ‘Do you get many MVAs—sorry, RTAs?’

      ‘Enough. We’re well sited for picking up the nasties that happen on the through trunk routes. Although it’s a rural area we’re bisected by busy roads with heavy commuter traffic and lots of freight movements, and so we get accidents, particularly if the weather closes in suddenly like it did on Saturday.’

      She led him into the staffroom and found that it shrank to half its size. Matt Jordan seemed to fill it, propped against the worktop with his arms folded and a lazy grin on his face, watching her as she switched on the kettle and then picked up two mugs. ‘Instant OK? Patrick’s failed us.’