Re-Awakening His Shy Nurse

‘Yes.’ Katya gave him a bright, brittle smile. Maybe, one day, she’d find something she could put her heart into, where there was no danger of her messing up. Until then, she’d keep making coffee and smiling.

Luke wasn’t quite sure what he’d said or done to set the ghosts swirling in her eyes. Perhaps it would have been better to stay with Peter, but the temptation to show her the project that was so close to his heart had overwhelmed him, and now that he’d brought her up here, he couldn’t take her back downstairs again without at least showing her around quickly.

She didn’t seem in that much of a hurry, though. If anything, she lingered over the half-finished office space, inspecting the kitchen and tiny shower room and pacing the full length and breadth of the main area.

‘It’s a huge space.’

‘Yeah. I’m going to have demountable partitions made so it can be split up into thirds later on, if necessary. For now, I prefer open-plan.’ He was watching her carefully, trying to see the place through her eyes. The value that she put on it had suddenly become un-realistically important.

‘Yes. The views are beautiful, too.’ She was leaning on one of the windowsills, looking out at the rolling green countryside. ‘It’ll be better still once you get those prefabs down.’

For the first time Luke saw the two, low, prefabricated units that had been home sweet home for the last two years through someone else’s eyes. ‘They’ll be staying for a while.’

‘But surely once you get your new offices and surgery …?’

He shifted uncomfortably. ‘That’s where I live.’

She reddened slightly. ‘Oh! I thought …’ Suspicion flickered in her eyes and hardened suddenly. ‘I thought that the coffee shop was on your way to work.’

‘It is. My surgery’s still down in the village. I pick up my coffee on the way there from here.’ He shrugged. ‘In a few weeks’ time I’ll be giving up the lease on my practice premises and moving it over here. It’s all part of a five-year plan.’

‘I see.’ She thought for a moment then nodded, obviously finding his answer acceptable. ‘So when do you get somewhere permanent to live?’

‘That’s not at the top of my list of priorities right now. I bought this land two years ago, and I’ve ploughed every penny I have into getting this place set up. I’ve got planning permission for a house down by the road there, but it’ll have to wait.’ He indicated the spot where the house would eventually stand, shaded by trees and currently overrun with brambles. ‘In the meantime, I have no shortage of fresh blackberries.’

‘Pretty long-term project.’ She was craning to see the spot he had indicated, and then her gaze swept back to the temporary buildings. ‘Doesn’t it get cold in there in the winter?’

Cold, unwelcoming, utilitarian. He didn’t spend a lot of time there anyway, and up until this moment he had neither wanted nor needed anything else. The word ‘home’ had seemed overrated. ‘Depends how many pairs of socks I wear.’

She smiled. Really smiled. A smile like that could make anywhere a home. ‘This is an amazing place, Luke. It’ll be worth it when it’s finished.’

He wanted to hug her. No—that was hardly substantial or long-lasting enough. He wanted to hold her. But the last time he’d come too close to her, he’d seen fear in her eyes and she had shrunk back from him. If that happened again, it would shatter everything that Luke had ever believed about himself. A man that a woman feared was no kind of man at all. He turned quickly, cannoning into a workbench, and put his hand out to steady himself.

The blade sliced into his thumb like a hot knife through butter. In the moment before he felt any pain he jerked his hand away from the workman’s knife, which had been left out on the bench, and saw blood plume over his fingers.

‘Dammit.’ Some blood drops had skittered across to a gap in the plastic covering the newly laid flooring and were beginning to soak into the untreated wood. Luke held his injured hand over an empty paint can and bent to repair the damage.

He felt her hands on his, something wrapped around the gash and pressure at the base of his thumb. ‘Don’t worry about that.’

‘It’ll stain the wood.’ Luke hissed out a curse as the plastic slipped under his feet and more blood spilled onto the floor.

‘And you’re just making it worse.’ Her voice was calm but brooked no argument. ‘What’s done is done. Come here and we’ll sort that out later.’ She pulled him away, her green eyes flashing dangerously when he made to resist.

‘Hey, that’s my fabric sample …’ Somehow she’d managed to locate the only clean piece of fabric in the whole place and wrap it around his hand, in the space of time it had taken Luke to half assess the damage to the flooring.

‘You’re using that colour in here?’ She raised one eyebrow. Whatever hesitation she might have displayed in the past was gone now. She was direct, calm and unmistakably in charge. Capital letters, In Charge.

‘No. When I got it back here, I thought something a little lighter would be better.’

‘Good. You’ll not be needing it, then.’ She rolled her eyes as Luke tried to move her fingers to inspect his thumb. ‘Stop that and come here.’

She hustled him down the stairs and thrust him into a battered armchair that the workmen used during their coffee breaks. ‘Peter.’ Peter was immersed in trying to disentangle a set of claws from his pullover and Katya’s voice increased in intensity if not volume. ‘Peter, will you take my keys and go and get the red bag from the back of my car, please?’

Luke took his chance. When she wore her vulnerability like armour, he could do nothing else but treat her gently. But now it was as if her true self had emerged, fearless and capable. He was the one who was at a disadvantage now, and he could afford to flex his muscles a little with her.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I need to see if I can get those bloodspots off the flooring before it stains.’

She dismissed him with a flip of her eyelashes and Luke grinned. ‘It’s already stained. You might be able to get it off with vinegar. If that doesn’t work, try a little bleach.’

‘I’d better go and see …’ He broke off as she wiggled the thumb of her free hand at him.

‘See this?’

‘Yep. I cut my hand, not cracked my skull.’

‘It’s an opposable thumb.’ She grinned at him. ‘You of all people should know how tricky things get without it.’

‘It’s a myth that we’re the only species with opposable thumbs, lots of animals have them. Gibbons, great apes. Some possums have two digits that oppose the other three. Giant pandas …’

‘So many for you to keep up with. Be a shame if you lost your grip.’ She lifted the corner of the fabric. ‘Seems to have stopped bleeding. Any loss of feeling in your thumb?’

‘No.’ Luke mimicked the movements of her thumb, circling and bending his own, and she nodded.

‘Okay. I’ll clean it and tape it up, but you need to get it looked at by a doctor if you experience any loss of sensation or movement or the wound becomes infected.’

‘Right.’ An idea was beginning to occur to Luke, and when she unzipped the red nylon bag that Peter had brought to her side, it began to gain form and substance. ‘Done this before?’

‘Once or twice.’ She began to clean the wound with alcohol wipes selected from the well-stocked first-aid kit.

‘I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to trust my valuable opposable thumbs to just anyone.’

‘I think you’ll be okay.’ No explanation. Nothing to reassure him, but then he was getting used to Katya giving the absolute minimum of information and leaving him wondering. Luke didn’t need it, though, her attitude and obvious expertise were quite enough.

‘It looks horrible.’ Peter had been watching carefully.

‘It does now. But the miracle of the human body is that it can heal. It’ll be just fine in a few days. When we get home, I’ll show you exactly what to do if anyone you know cuts themselves like this.’ She took a moment to check that Peter was happy with her answer and gave a little satisfied nod. ‘Now, have you chosen which kitten you’d like to take home with us?’

‘That one.’ Peter pointed to an all-black kitten, the boldest of the crew, and the one that Luke had expected him to take to. ‘Or that one.’ A little white one, with blue eyes and undoubtedly the prettiest. ‘Or perhaps …’

Katya laughed. ‘Well, I guess you’ve got a bit more thinking to do.’ She paused for a moment to concentrate on taping Luke’s wound and then glanced across at Peter’s rucksack. ‘Perhaps one of them has chosen you.’

Peter caught his breath and ran over to his rucksack, where the tiny kitten with the black patch over its eye had managed to work the zip open and was trying to crawl inside. Carefully he disentangled its claws, and let it attach itself to his chest instead. ‘It’s licking my hand!’

‘Can you let that one go?’ She turned to Luke, seeming to know that the weakest of the litter, the one that he had needed to nurse back to health, was the one that he most wanted to find a good home for. ‘Olenka will make sure he’s looked after properly.’

‘I know.’ He nodded over towards Peter and his new best friend. ‘All he needs now is someone to care for him, and it seems he’s found that.’

Luke’s gaze found Katya’s and she gave him a nod and a shy smile. Now that she was out of the loose-fitting top and apron that she wore at the coffee shop, he could see how slim she was. Almost painfully so. He wouldn’t have credited her with the strength to propel him downstairs the way she had just now.