The Doctor, His Daughter and Me Read online

  ‘Is she your daddy’s girlfriend?’

  Ryan was only half listening to the girls’ conversation. He felt a tugging on his shorts and looked down at his daughter. She was frowning.

  ‘What, Beth?’

  ‘Is Tara your girlfriend?’

  It took him a moment to take in what she’d said.

  ‘No, she’s not,’ he said, but right at that moment he wished she was.

  Daisy climbed out of the pool and came back a few moments later with a pair of blow-up floaties that she plonked in the shallow water next to him, and then swam away to where her young sister had discovered how to blow bubbles under water.

  Ryan positioned the inflated devices on Bethany’s upper arms.

  ‘You should ask her to be.’

  Fortunately he wasn’t required to reply as Bethany’s attention reverted to the pool.

  ‘Who’s coming swimming?’ he said with a grin.

  Bethany needed no further invitation as she slung her arms around Ryan’s neck and they moved smoothly into the water, where they splashed and spluttered and scooted back and forth across the pleasantly warm water.

  As Ryan floated in the soothing water he saw Christine slip into the pool and paddle towards him. When she was a couple of metres away she stopped to tread water and nodded towards his wriggling cargo.

  ‘If you want to have a few minutes to swim on your own, I can look after Beth.’

  His daughter made the decision for him as she reached her arms out to her nanny and boldly plunged into the water.

  ‘Thanks,’ Ryan said, and his gratitude was rewarded with a wink.

  ‘It’s not always easy to relax when you have a four-year-old in tow.’

  Christine didn’t wait for his reply and headed towards the shallow end, where the other girls were playing, leaving Ryan to do laps. And to think…

  He glanced in Tara’s direction, but she was still engrossed in conversation with Rachel.

  The shimmering reflection of the patio lights in the pool danced across her lightly tanned skin and reminded him of an ethereal fairyland. In some ways she had more going for her than many able-bodied women.

  Tara was truly beautiful and alarmingly attractive.

  She was strong and courageous.

  She was intelligent and caring, and often selfless when it came to dealing with those she perceived as being in trouble.

  And she would be a wonderful parent, if her dealings with Bethany were anything to go by.

  His heart did a clumsy somersault as a startling realisation struck like a king wave in an otherwise calm and predictable sea. He felt totally winded.

  Not only did he love her with every fibre of his being but he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  He wanted to care for her, to protect her, to be there for her if she needed a shoulder to cry on or to share the beauty of a spring sunrise, the taste of a fresh-picked peach, the gently caressing waves of a balmy ocean on a hot, midsummer afternoon.

  He wanted to be an enduring part of her life again.

  But he doubted it could ever happen because Tara had made it clear she didn’t want him in her life in any meaningful or long-lasting way. For her, pragmatism appeared more important than love.

  Ryan dived to the bottom of the pool and stroked along underwater until he saw three sets of small chubby feet dangling at the side of the pool.

  ‘Daddy, come on—let’s play bucking horses.’ Ryan’s thoughts were interrupted by the impatient demands of his daughter. He grinned and then rolled onto his stomach, letting Bethany tumble into the water, scooping her up again before her face went under. She gasped, and then squealed with laughter as he lifted her so she straddled his shoulders. He began lurching from side to side.

  ‘More, Daddy, more!’ she shrieked as he bobbed her in and out of the pool, splashing great gouts of water in all directions.

  The game continued for a few minutes more before they were interrupted by the deep, cheerful voice of Steve.

  ‘Food’s up in five minutes, everybody!’ he yelled.

  Ryan looked around for Tara but she was nowhere to be seen. She must have left the pool area when he’d been engrossed in his watery game with Bethany. He recognised the stab of emotion he felt as disappointment, but knowing what it was didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  ‘I’m hungry, and Mr Steve says dinner’s ready,’ his daughter announced, promptly putting an end to Ryan’s introspection. He swam to the steps, deposited Bethany on the top one and lurched out of the pool.

  * * *

  Watching Ryan and his daughter frolicking in Liz and Steve’s pool had evoked a mixture of joy and envy in Tara. She felt a little on edge, but also revived. Life was definitely worth living when you could spend a pleasant couple of hours in the company of friends who expected nothing more of you than that you have a good time.

  Of course she had no idea what Ryan’s expectations were. It was probably big-headed of her to think he had any expectations at all. He was friendly enough, but his focus—and rightly so—had been on his daughter, who was an absolute delight. Maybe she’d imagined the sensual connection she’d felt buzz between them earlier.

  She suddenly felt the chill of a clear, moonlit night and realised the front of her shirt was soaking, and she had a substantial damp patch on her trousers from bouncing a small but very wet child on her knees a few minutes ago. Rachel had excused herself so she could help her daughters into dry clothes and Tara realised she should change herself.

  She wheeled herself into her hostess’s kitchen, where Liz and Christine were tossing salads and adding garnish at the last minute.

  Liz looked up when she heard the door slide open. She smiled.

  ‘Enjoying yourself?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Tara paused, reluctant to interrupt the food preparation, but she was feeling colder and battled to keep her teeth from chattering. ‘I wondered if I could borrow a towel—maybe a pullover? I seemed to have got a bit wet.’

  Liz left what she was doing and came close enough to do a full inspection. At that moment Tara could no longer stop the shivering.

  ‘Oh, you poor love. You need a dry change of clothes. Come with me.’

  ‘But—’ Liz read her mind and glanced at the food.

  ‘That can wait for a few minutes. Your wellbeing is more important.’

  Tara followed her down a passageway and was led into the master bedroom. Liz spread an array of clothes across the bed, fetched a fluffy towel and said she would leave Tara to get changed. Liz closed the door, but Tara felt more comfortable sliding the lock on the knob to ensure her privacy.

  In the en-suite bathroom she peeled off her wet clothes and dried herself as best she could, leaving her still slightly damp trousers on. She glanced in the three-quarter-length mirror and quickly looked away. She usually avoided appraising herself naked. In fact she kept away from mirrors that displayed more than her head and shoulders because she was scared of being reminded of what she had lost. Her pale, thin legs were a symbol of the things she couldn’t do any more.

  Then she looked back and studied the image she saw—broad, lightly tanned shoulders, well-muscled arms, firm rounded breasts and an acceptably flat stomach. She touched her right breast, tentatively at first, and then with a cautious boldness she hadn’t experienced since before the accident. She explored the soft milky skin, the crinkled dark area around the nipple, and then the nipple itself, which was suddenly hard and exquisitely sensitive.

  A vivid image of Ryan touching, stroking, exploring and pleasuring her flashed into her mind. Like old times.

  There was a soft knock on the door and Tara snatched her hand away, grabbing the towel to cover her nudity. She knew she was fantasising, and logic told her that her dream could never turn into reality.

  Ryan had his own life to live.

  ‘Are you okay? Do you need any help?’ Liz’s quiet voice was reassuring.

  ‘No…’ Tara cleared the husky embarrassment fr
om a throat that didn’t seem to want to work properly. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m just getting dressed and I’ll be out in five or ten minutes.’

  ‘Great. No need to hurry. Steve’s estimate was a tad ambitious when he said five minutes. It’ll take at least another ten minutes until we’re ready to eat.’

  ‘Thanks, Liz.’ Tara’s voice was back to normal but her emotions certainly weren’t. Her thoughts drifted back to her reflection in the mirror, to the body she’d denied had any worth for so long. To the ugly but also to the beautiful. She wasn’t usually a negative person, but since the accident she’d been blinded to the fact she had to accept what she was, the good and the bad, before she could move on. It was as if a part of her that had been locked away for more than eight years had been released.

  She was capable of feeling attractive.

  She had sexual urges.

  She had feelings for her ex-husband.

  But could they ever be reciprocated?

  What was happening to her? Whatever it was, she knew she had to nip it in the bud before she added another complication to her life—which was overloaded with them already. Her moment of self-discovery was overshadowed by confusion as she slowly and methodically dressed. She combed her hair and then ruffled it into some kind of order with her fingers, rubbed her cheeks to restore some colour to her pallid face and then, taking a deep, calming breath, she wheeled herself through the door and back out to the…unknown.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RYAN suspected it was more than chance that he and Tara ended up sitting next to each other at dinner. Although he didn’t have much time to have any kind of personal interaction with her, he was acutely aware of her presence, her closeness, the hint of chlorine mixed with the fresh smell of a light lavender cologne that drifted into his airspace, the aura of sensuality she didn’t even know she had.

  ‘Bethany’s a real darling,’ Liz said as she passed the potato salad down the table.

  It was the kind of statement that didn’t need a reply and jolted Ryan back to the reality of the here and now.

  ‘I’d second that,’ Tara said with a little shyness in her voice, but Ryan had no time to dwell on her comment.

  ‘She’s been no trouble at all,’ Christine chimed in. ‘Considering what she’s…’

  It was obvious what the woman was about to say, and Ryan felt embarrassed for her as her cheeks turned a rosy pink. ‘She’s been used to going to day care and having a nanny, so she takes to new people—especially ones she likes,’ he added with a smile, ‘really easily.’

  He glanced over at the small table where the three little girls were quite happily sitting, eating their way through a plate of chipolata sausages, chunks of marinated chicken and several mini-bowls of salad. Bethany whispered something and the two other girls giggled before the threesome resumed their intimate chat. They were getting on like a rabble of Labradors at their first puppy obedience class—exuberant, curious and totally uninhibited.

  ‘She’s made new friends in Bonnie and Daisy too,’ Liz said thoughtfully. ‘In fact I just had an idea.’ She glanced across at Gus and Rachel, who were absorbed in their own conversation. ‘Bonnie and Daisy are staying tonight. How about Bethany sleeping over too?’

  The offer was unexpected, and something Ryan hadn’t even contemplated. When he’d taken on his daughter’s full-time care he’d decided to spend every spare minute he could with her. But his daughter had certainly been used to staying at her grandparents’ before they’d moved interstate. Beth seemed to be more interested in the company of Bonnie and Daisy at the moment than she was in his. And if there were any problems he was only a phone call and at the most ten minutes away.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Liz sent him a look of understanding. ‘Maybe we could ask her? You’ve got an early start tomorrow, and your list probably won’t finish until mid-afternoon, so she’ll be here for most of the day anyway.’

  ‘All right. I’ll ask her after dinner.’ It was a shame to interrupt the girls when they seemed to be huddled in a tête-a-tête of whispered secrets and shared laughter.

  Liz smiled knowingly as the conversation drifted on to the current state of the economy and how it affected the region’s primary producers and the very ordinary performance of the local football team the previous weekend. Before long Liz began collecting dishes. Rachel yawned and Steve unsuccessfully tried to refill Tara’s glass. Bethany definitely looked droopy, and Ryan suspected her supreme effort to stay awake more than an hour after her usual bedtime was to do with wanting to keep up with her young friends.

  ‘I’d better see what Bethany wants to do before she falls asleep.’ Ryan kind of liked the idea of not having to wake a sleepy child and pack her off to Christine before Beth had even had her breakfast.

  Bethany must have heard her name, because she stood up, stretched, and then toddled over on slightly wobbly legs to where Ryan sat. He hoisted her onto his knee.

  ‘Have you had a good time tonight?’ Ryan knew the answer.

  To the adults’ amusement she punched the air with a small fist and said sleepily, ‘The best.’ She yawned. ‘Can I come here tomorrow while you’re at work?’

  Ryan stroked her hair and then kissed her forehead. ‘Would you like to stay here tonight and I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon after I finish work?’

  For a moment Bethany’s eyes opened wide and she beamed. ‘That would be…’ Her eyes crinkled in thought. ‘That would be awesome, Daddy.’

  Christine had obviously tuned in to their conversation and was already bundling the two other girls together, ready to settle them in for the night.

  ‘Let’s get you girls off to bed, then.’

  Bethany followed Christine without question, and when the woman returned about five minutes later she was smiling.

  ‘Would you believe they were all too tired for a bedtime story? They’re sound asleep.’

  ‘Who’s for coffee and cake?’ Liz asked enthusiastically.

  Tara was the first to refuse.

  ‘I really should be going, Liz. I usually don’t stay out this late and I’ve got an early start tomorrow too.’

  Ryan checked his watch. Even though it was only just after nine o’clock, he wasn’t surprised at Tara’s comment. He imagined Graham kept fairly close tabs on his daughter’s whereabouts.

  ‘Oh, what a shame.’ Liz smiled. ‘I’ll pack you some to take home.’

  ‘I’ll be heading off too,’ Ryan said, with the idea of helping Tara. He stretched out his hand to Steve and then gave Liz a brief hug. ‘Thanks so much for the meal and the company—and for having Bethany stay the night.’

  ‘Make the most of it while you can.’ Ryan thought he saw the hint of a wink before Liz added, ‘There’s nothing like an uninterrupted night’s sleep when you’re a parent of a pre-schooler as lively as Bethany.’ She paused and then put her arm around Tara. ‘And don’t leave it so long between visits, young lady.’

  Ryan barely heard what she said next as she leaned close to Tara, but the gist of it was something to do with having a social life and cutting the umbilical cord. If he’d heard right he couldn’t agree more.

  And perhaps he could have a hand in broadening Tara’s social horizons.

  Maybe he could start tonight.

  The realisation suddenly struck Ryan that if he embarked on a physical relationship with Tara it would mean a commitment much more binding than his token attempts in the couple of brief relationships he’d had since his second divorce.

  Could he handle that?

  It would mean significant changes to his already topsy-turvy world.

  It would also mean offering Tara a future she could cope with, both physically and emotionally, and their plans would have to be made together.

  How would he handle rejection?

  In the best way he could. There were no valid alternatives.

  He had to be patient, which was the last thing he felt like being at the moment.

  Tonight
…?

  He’d ask her in for coffee, prepare himself for a knock-back, and if she accepted? Well, he’d just let the evening happen.

  At that moment Christine appeared with two plastic dishes containing what looked like huge slabs of chocolate cake with a big dollop of cream on the side.

  Ryan suddenly began to doubt whether he had the courage to ask Tara back to his place.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, took a deep breath and reminded himself he had nothing to lose.

  * * *

  Tara was acutely aware of Liz and Steve standing on their front veranda as Ryan lifted her chair into the car. She turned the key in the ignition with a sense of disappointment. It was a little like the old days when she’d been a teenager and single. Before she’d met Ryan. An outing with friends would sometimes end with the feeling that the night wasn’t finished. That there was a party somewhere they could go to, or a nightclub that stayed open until the small hours, crammed full of music and dancing and possibilities.

  She felt wound up and ready to party. After all it was Friday night and just after nine o’clock—about the time cities woke up. But country towns like Keysdale closed up for the night.

  She sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of recounting every detail of her night out to her parents, but there was absolutely no alternative.

  Glancing in her side mirror in preparation for reversing, she saw Ryan heading towards her.

  ‘Don’t forget your afters,’ he said with a grin, thrusting a container in her part-open window.

  She wound down the glass.

  ‘Thanks.’

  She expected Ryan to head straight for his car but he lingered, swaying slightly from one foot to the other, as if he had something to say but hadn’t decided whether he would or not.

  ‘Is there something else?’

  ‘Ah…yes there is.’ He cleared his throat.

  Tara’s curiosity was definitely aroused.

  ‘It’s still early and I wondered if you might like to come back to my place…er…to the motel, for a coffee?’

  Tara was totally taken aback by Ryan’s bumbling invitation. He was usually so confident and together. She was the one who was prone to bouts of nerves. In fact her heart had begun to thud at the knowledge that Ryan could no longer be just a colleague. Whether he knew or not, the fantasies Tara had had at Liz’s, the possibility Ryan could become her lover, had put their relationship on a different level.