The GP's Meant-To-Be Bride

‘Of course.’ Gemma jumped to her feet and hurried to the door.

‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Ross suggested as they all trooped into the hall. He paused, forcing Gemma to stop to avoid bumping into him. ‘That stretch of the canal is quite difficult to reach. The fewer vehicles that are there, blocking the way, the better.’

‘That’s a point,’ Matt concurred. ‘Heaven knows what sort of machinery they’ll need to shift that crane but there’s no point cluttering up the area. I’ll pick up Rachel and the others and that will help to keep the number of vehicles to a minimum.’

It was all sorted out without Gemma saying a word, not that she could have objected to going with Ross—that would have been too difficult to explain. She could hardly have admitted that the thought of being in the car with him was giving her hot and cold chills.

She slid into the rear seat, murmuring something about leaving the front passenger seat free for Ben. Ross obviously saw nothing strange in that, but he had no reason to be suspicious. He didn’t know that the thought of sitting next to him would have been torture for her. To feel his shoulder brush against hers, to smell the scent of his skin, to absorb the powerful force of his masculinity would have been both heaven and hell, and she couldn’t handle it. Not today. Not this day when he should have been on his way to church to marry her best friend.

She needed time to gather her thoughts and return them to the box mentally marked ‘Forbidden’ where they had resided for the last three years. Only then would she be able to cope, when Ross was back in his rightful place as her best friend’s fiancé… Only he was no longer that, was he? He was neither engaged to Heather nor married to her. To all intents and purposes, he was a free agent now. Available. Obtainable. Although not for someone like her. Not for a woman whose body had made men recoil in revulsion.

Pain speared through her heart as she stared out of the car window. She could only ever love Ross from afar.

CHAPTER THREE

GEMMA had been seventeen when her whole life had changed. She had been in her first year at sixth-form college and just finding her feet as an adult. She had been enjoying her studies and enjoying the new opportunities to socialise. Life had been exciting, exhilarating, fun.

When her friend Katie suggested that they go to Sheffield to see a concert, Gemma was thrilled. Katie had passed her driving test a few months earlier and the plan was that she would drive them there. Gemma pleaded with her parents to let her go and in the end, they agreed. They knew Katie and trusted her.

The concert was as good as they had hoped it would be. Gemma and Katie were on a high as they drove home afterwards, singing along to a CD of the bands they had seen that night. They were within a mile of home when a car suddenly pulled out of a side road and rammed straight into them.

Gemma took the brunt of the impact. Part of the door embedded itself into her side, slicing through her left kidney and damaging her spleen. There was extensive tissue damage, broken ribs, bruising to her spine, although, mercifully, she was unaware of how severe her injuries were. The long weeks she spent in ICU were a blank. She remembered nothing about them, although her parents told her later that twice they were warned to prepare themselves when it looked as though she was about to lose her battle to survive. Yet somehow, against all the odds, she pulled through.

Once she left Intensive Care she underwent months of physiotherapy plus more surgery. Her kidney had needed to be removed as well as her spleen, but the surgeons assured her that she would be able to function perfectly well without either organ. What they couldn’t do anything about was the extensive scarring from the many operations she’d needed, but that seemed relatively unimportant compared to the fact that she was alive. With the support of her family, Gemma resumed her studies and soon discovered that the plans she’d made for a career in law no longer appealed. She decided to train as a nurse and help people like herself who had been injured.

It was during her final year in university that she started dating one of the other students. Up till then she’d been more concerned about catching up with her peer group, but when Mike Walsh asked her out, she accepted. Within a couple of weeks Gemma knew that she was falling in love, and the wonderful thing was that Mike felt the same way. She had told him about the accident, glossing over the fact that she still bore the scars from it because they hadn’t seemed important; they were just part of her and that was that. Mike, however, viewed them in an entirely different light.

Gemma was stunned by his reaction the first time they slept together. Although he tried to hide it, she could tell he was repulsed by the sight of her damaged flesh. Every time they made love after that, she was aware that he averted his eyes from the left side of her body and never, ever, touched her there.

It was inevitable that their relationship would fail. Neither of them could cope with the continual stress. By the time they parted, all Gemma felt was relief that she would no longer be made to feel like a freak. However, it proved one thing to her: no man would find her attractive undressed. And that was when she made her decision to save herself a great deal of heartache by never having a physical relationship with a man again…

‘I’ll just fetch Ben. Is there anything you need? A coat, a sweater, gloves?’ Ross frowned when he saw Gemma jump. She hadn’t said a word on the drive to his house. She’d been so quiet, in fact, that he’d wondered if she had fallen asleep at one point. However, a glance in the rearview mirror had soon dispelled that idea.

His frown deepened as he recalled the expression on her face. She’d looked so lost, so lonely, so much in pain, and he couldn’t understand it… Unless she was upset about the wedding being cancelled? Gemma’s ability to empathise with people was legendary in the surgery; all their patients remarked on how sympathetic she was. Now he couldn’t help feeling guilty that she was suffering because of him. If he’d thought long and hard before he’d asked Heather to marry him, based the decision on his emotions rather than ticking all those wretched boxes, a lot of people might not be feeling quite so upset today.

It was galling to admit that he was at fault. Ross got out of the car without waiting to see if Gemma was going to take him up on his offer of extra clothing. He would take some stuff with him and she could choose what she wanted, he decided as he let himself into the house. Ben was just hanging up the phone—he grimaced when Ross went in.

‘I’ve only managed to contact about half the people on this list. Most of them are already on their way here.’

‘I’ll phone the vicar and ask him to meet them at the church,’ Ross said shortly, unhooking a waterproof jacket from the peg behind the door. He tossed it over a chair then rummaged through the stack of Wellington boots until he found a pair that should fit Gemma, then picked up a larger pair for himself plus a pair for Ben.

‘I thought you were going to meet the ones who turned up,’ Ben said uncertainly, eyeing the mound of clothing. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I understand if you’ve changed your mind. It’s not something I’d relish doing either.’

‘I’d go if I could but I’m afraid we’re needed elsewhere.’

Ross felt around on the shelf and came up with several pairs of gloves which he added to the pile. The kitchen was starting to resemble a jumble sale but they’d be glad of the extra layers. It was bitterly cold outside and they would be frozen if they were outside for any length of time, Gemma in particular. All she had on was a sweatshirt and jeans—she’d catch her death.

The thought was far too worrying. Ross pushed it aside and opened the cupboard. Lifting out the spare pack of medical supplies he kept for emergencies, he placed it next to the chair.

‘We are?’ Ben’s brows rose steeply. ‘Why? What’s up?’

‘A crane has collapsed down by the canal and there are several people injured,’ Ross explained, opening the pack to check that everything was there. Dressings, scissors, stethoscope, cannulas…what else? Ah, yes, saline, an essential in a situation like this.

He lifted out the box containing the pouches of fluid, and handed it to Ben. ‘Here. Grab hold of this.’

‘How come you’ve been asked to attend?’ Ben demanded, taking the box from him.

‘Because your lot aren’t up to the job,’ Ross quipped. He scooped up the clothes, swung the backpack over his shoulder and headed for the door.

‘Cheek!’ Ben loped along beside him. He reached around and opened the front door seeing as Ross’s hands were full. ‘Seriously, though, what’s going on?’

‘Apparently, there’s a problem with the fuel that’s been delivered to Dalverston’s ambulance station. All the vehicles apart from one paramedic car are out of action.’ He juggled the pairs of Wellingtons as he tried to unlock the boot of the car, dropped one, and cursed.

‘I’ll get that.’

All of a sudden Gemma was there, bending down to retrieve the recalcitrant boot. Ross nodded his thanks as he stowed the equipment in the car, then eased a waxed jacket out of the tangle of clothing and handed it to her.

‘Thanks.’ She shrugged it on, shivering as she zipped it up. Taking the box from Ben, she put it with the rest of the gear then slammed the boot lid.

‘I can’t believe this has happened!’ Ben was muttering to himself as they climbed into the car. ‘No ambulances? What on earth are they going to do for the rest of the day?’

‘It could take longer than a day to sort things out,’ Ross pointed out. He pulled out of the drive and turned right, heading towards the canal. ‘Remember that problem they had down south last year? Dozens of cars broke down because there was something in the fuel? It took weeks to get them back on the road. They had to strip all the engines.’

‘We can’t be without an ambulance service for weeks!’ Ben exclaimed. ‘Lives will be lost.’

‘They’ll come up with some sort of a contingency plan,’ Gemma said soothingly from the back seat.

‘You’re right.’ Ben turned round and grinned at her. ‘Of course they will. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get my knickers in a twist!’

They both laughed, Ben at his own stupidity, Gemma at the joke, although Ross didn’t join in. Ben and Gemma seemed very friendly all of a sudden. Far more friendly than he would have expected, although wasn’t it tradition that romantic sparks should fly between the best man and the bridesmaid? Had Ben been looking forward to upholding that tradition, perhaps? Well, if that was the case, maybe it was a good job the wedding had been cancelled.

The force of that thought surprised him so much that the car swerved as he pulled a little too forcefully on the steering-wheel. ‘Ice,’ he said briefly to excuse his error. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, expecting Gemma to smile with her customary understanding, but she was staring straight ahead with an expression of such terror on her face that he was instantly contrite. The last thing he wanted was to scare her witless!

The rest of the journey passed without incident, mainly because Ross refused to let his mind wander again. The paramedic car had already arrived when they reached the canal so Ben went to speak to the driver. Ross unloaded their gear, piling everything on the ground next to the car.

‘Help yourself to anything you need,’ he told Gemma when she came to help him.

‘Thanks.’

She picked up a woollen hat and pulled it on, silky tendrils of silver-gold hair peeking out from under the brim, and that funny wobbly feeling started up again in the pit of Ross’s stomach. Lifting out the haversack, he swung it over his shoulder and headed towards the footpath that led to the canal.

‘I’ll go and see what’s what,’ he said tersely, determined to keep a rein on his emotions before they got him into trouble.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said immediately, grabbing a pair of gloves.

They climbed over the stile, followed the path through the copse then ground to a halt at the sight that met them. The whole arm of the crane, complete with a huge metal girder it had been lifting, had buckled and was straddling the canal from one bank to the other. Sections of metalwork had sheered off when it had collapsed and had rained down on the men who’d been working below. Ross could see a number of people lying on the ground and several others, including a boy of about ten, wandering about looking dazed. Turning to Gemma, he rattled out instructions.

‘You check the guy nearest to us while I take a look at the crane driver. I’ll check out the child first, though—I don’t want him hanging around here any longer than is necessary. Do what you can but don’t waste time if it doesn’t look hopeful. Speed is of the essence here. Ben should be along soon so don’t do anything stupid. And keep well away from the crane. That thing could collapse at any moment and I don’t want you underneath it if it does.’