LITMIR.BIZ

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than he’d been in a long time.

      ‘Isn’t he just? Stubborn as an ox. And you were right that night. It is my place to be here for David. I owe him a lot.’

      ‘I heard you lived with David and Mary as a teenager.’

      He nodded. ‘They rescued me from foster-care when I got into trouble with the law. David always listens to people, especially youngsters who don’t have anyone on their side. I gave them merry hell at times, but they were always there for me from the day I met them.’ Brad leaned back in his chair, tipped his head to stare up at the ceiling. ‘I should’ve come the moment David told me about the Parkinson’s, given him the time off to reassess his priorities. But I was caught between two people—David and my son.’

      Not an easy choice. Why was he telling her this? Did he feel he had to justify his actions to her? ‘Haven’t Samuel and his mother moved to California?’

      He winced. ‘Yes.’

      So, what had stopped him coming, then? Glancing at his stern face, she thought better of asking. But she couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Brad to have his son taken so far away. To only see him on rare occasions when he’d have been used to having Samuel in his life every day must’ve broken his heart. It was one thing not to be able to have a child, but to have one and lose him? That was far beyond her comprehension. She’d never feel complete again if it happened to her.

      On the desk the phone buzzed discreetly. Grateful for the interruption, Erin slipped out the door, leaving Brad to answer it. Leaving Brad with a haunted look in his eyes.

      Panic rose, threatened to engulf her. She could not share the clinic with this man. She’d go crazy trying to deal with all the emotions that whirled through her at the sight of him. A moment ago she’d wanted to hug away that haunted look. Imagine if she’d attempted to? He’d have been furious. How was she going to manage? One day at a time? Impossible. One minute at a time?

      Brad watched Erin go as he slowly reached for the phone. What a motormouth he’d turned into all of a sudden, raving on about personal things to her, exposing himself to her scorn. Which hadn’t been forthcoming. He’d grown to expect derision from Blenheim folk ever since his wayward youth spent here. The one time he’d talked to Erin on the phone she’d been so scathing in her criticism of him that he’d believed she was just another disgruntled Blenheimite, but she’d managed to make him think about how he was letting David down, made him realise it was time to move on from what Penelope had done.

      The pain that had stabbed him when he’d talked about Sammy to Erin was ebbing. She still didn’t know how he’d struggled to leave the apartment where he and Penelope had brought Sammy home as a four-day-old infant; where he’d taught his boy to play ball in the back yard; where he’d told him endless stories, attempting to get him to go to sleep. The apartment was crammed with sweet memories Brad hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave. The rooms were filled with the sound of Sam’s laughter. His childish drawings still adorned the walls of his bedroom and the kitchen. His rugby ball lay discarded by the back door, not needed in his new life.

      The phone stopped ringing.

      Brad spun around in his chair to stare out the window at the back of a brick wall beyond which rose the ugly sight of a supermarket.

      ‘God, Sammy, I miss you so much. Sunday night phone calls are just not enough, buddy.’ He needed to touch his boy, to hug him and talk with him. Hearing his excited chatter over the phone did not make up for not being able to see Sam’s eyes grow as big as plates and his mouth curl up into a happy smile as he explained how he’d hit a run at baseball.

      Baseball. A goddamned Yankee game. What was wrong with good old rugby? A game that Kiwis and Aussies loved? A man should be able to teach his boy the rudiments of a real bloke’s game.

      Someone knocked on his door, and Marilyn’s face appeared tentatively around the edge. ‘ED is on the line regarding Jason. Is there something wrong with your phone line? I put the call through here.’

      ‘Try again, Marilyn. I’ll get it this time.’ He gave her a smile, the kind that usually got him most things he wanted. Except in Blenheim. Would it work with Erin? Would she fall for his charms? More likely she’d tell him to go take a flying leap off a very high cliff.

      This time he took the call. ‘Perano.’

      ‘Roger Bailey, ED, Blenheim Hospital.’

      ‘Roger, as in the best oarsman Otago Med School ever put up against Canterbury?’ Brad hoped this was one man who’d accept him back in town without prejudice. Roger had loathed Penelope from the start, bringing tension between the two men.

      ‘Didn’t do us a lot of good, considering some of the useless dudes we had on that team. You still kicking a rugby ball around?’

      ‘Not since I tore a ligament in my shoulder and decided I was getting too soft.’ Not since my son was stolen from me.

      ‘How are you anyway? I hear you’re back to keep David out of trouble.’

      ‘Only for a few months.’ But even in the week since he’d arrived here, Brad had noticed some of the tension lining David’s mouth easing, making him wonder how he’d be able to leave again.

      ‘Right, about Jason Curtis.’

      ‘Go on.’ Brad sighed with relief. No mention of his ex-wife, then. The local gossip machine had probably put out an all-points bulletin about the state of Brad Perano’s marriage before he’d even made the decision to move back home. Glad to have avoided the subject, Brad listened to everything Roger had to say about their young patient.

      Roger filled him in quickly and efficiently. ‘I’m flying Jason up to Starship Children’s Hospital in Auckland on the medical emergency plane. I’m not happy about the head injury and we don’t have a resident neurosurgeon here. I’m probably being over-cautious but better that way than thinking we can handle his problems and having it backfire on us.’

      Brad hung up, and noted his computer informing him he had two patients waiting to be seen. ‘Great, now I’m running late.’ What had happened to the idea of coming in early and being very organised by the time the clinic opened for business?

      He’d tell Erin about Jason later. Erin. The name suited her. Damn it. Why couldn’t she be called Gertrude or Winifred? Then he’d be able to recall his austere great-aunts every time he looked at her, and forget the blinding passion that had rocked him earlier. Being squashed in that kennel-size shop, he’d felt dizzy with the scent of her.

      Erin.

      Damn it. He had to work with her. Like it or not. She could be another problem to add to an already overly long list of problems, starting with a town that he had to get back on side with.

      Erin’s only a problem if you let her be, squeaked a pesky little voice in his head.

      Brad shoved the voice aside and went in search of his first patient. Nothing like focussing on someone else’s problems to forget his own for a while.

      Erin sat at the tiny table in the centre’s kitchen and bit into her salad sandwich. Not exactly the most exciting lunch but it was all she’d had time to slap together after the way her morning had gone.

      ‘I’d have thought you’d be munching on burgers and fries, getting all the carbs you can after your early morning ride.’ Brad dropped onto a chair opposite her, threatening its flimsy legs with his weight.

      ‘She would if I didn’t nag her to be healthy.’ David beat her to answering Brad as he walked in behind him.

      Erin rolled her eyes at the man who’d been more like a father to her than her own had. She knew he was hoping Brad would buy him out of the practice. ‘One of the drawbacks of working with David is that he thinks he can order me around.’

      ‘He was always like that with me too.’ Brad snagged a muffin out of the goodies basket David had brought in for all the staff as he officially

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