The Courage To Love Her Army Doc

‘Really?’ Joe arched a dark eyebrow as he glanced down at his new small-child accessory.

Joni shrugged but made no further wisecracks.

‘We should really get him checked out properly.’ Although he bore no immediate signs of concussion, it didn’t mean they should rule it out altogether.

As well as getting a cold compress to prevent swelling, she’d prefer to keep him under observation in case of headaches or vomiting. He’d taken quite a wallop and although the skull was there to protect the brain there was always a chance the knock could cause the brain to swell or bleed. She didn’t like taking unnecessary chances.

‘The best option for now is to get him to Miriama’s.’ Joe crouched down for the patient to jump on his back. A piggyback was apparently the equivalent of an ambulance around here.

‘Isn’t there a medical centre we can take him to?’ A small bird of panic fluttered its wings in her chest. She’d been led to believe there’d be some sort of facility for her to practise from. He might be used to treating people in the field but she certainly wasn’t.

‘Of sorts, but Miriama is his grandmother and the closest thing they have to a medic. She can keep an eye on him until you make sevusevu and if his condition changes we’ll only be a few minutes away.’

It didn’t slip her attention that he intended coming with her. In the absence of her brother she supposed he was going to have to do as backup. At least this incident showed he could be a calming influence when the need arose and she trusted he would keep her grounded until she tracked down her sibling.

‘What about my things?’ As they followed the dirt trail further into the village she fretted over her worldly possessions abandoned on the hillside.

‘No one’s going to steal them. We’ll come back for the yaqona and send someone to take the rest back to Miriama’s later.’ He strode on ahead, unconcerned with her petty worries or the weight strapped around his neck.

She could picture him in his army gear, bravely heading into battle with his kit on his back, and it gave her chills. The idea of her brother in a war zone had always freaked her out and there’d been no greater relief than when he’d left the army. She was glad he was no longer in danger. Joe too. Life here might be more unconventional than she was used to but she didn’t have to worry about anyone getting shot or blown up.

With her imagination slowing her down, she was forced to run and catch up again. The sandals slapping against her bare feet really weren’t suitable footwear for chasing fit men in a hurry.

‘Why should my luggage end up at Miriama’s?’ That obscure snippet of information hadn’t passed her by.

‘That’s where you’re going to be staying for the next fortnight. Miriama’s your host.’

Although she hadn’t expected the luxury of last night’s five-star resort, she’d imagined she’d be staying with her brother rather than another stranger.

‘Peter’s staying with the village chief. He’s earned a great deal of respect from the community for his endeavours here.’ Joe headed off her next question before she could ask it. She couldn’t help but wonder what his own arrangements were.

‘And you? Where do you lay your head at night?’ Only when the words left her lips did she realise how nosy that sounded. She hadn’t intended prying into his personal life but this was all new to her. She didn’t know if he was presented with pretty young virgins and his own house to thank him for his services. It would certainly explain her brother’s reluctance to leave the village.

He cocked his head to one side, his mouth twitching as he fought a smile. ‘Well, there’s a new arrival in my bed tonight—’

She held her hand up before he went into graphic detail. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.’

‘So I’m moving from Miriama’s into the clinic.’

It took a second for the image of Joe cavorting with exotic beauties to clear and let his words sink in.

‘I’m taking your bed? Honestly, that’s not necessary. I’m more than willing to take your place at the clinic.’ She didn’t know what that entailed but she’d take it over the lack of privacy in someone else’s house.

Joe shook his head. ‘The clinic’s a glorified hut with two camp beds and a supply cupboard. You’ll find no comfort there. I, on the other hand, am used to kipping in ditches, or worse. It’s no hardship for me. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour.’ He gave a furtive glance back at his charge to make sure he wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t want to offend Miriama but I prefer the peace and quiet of being alone. I’m not used to domesticity.’

Perhaps it was because he was the first man to get so close to her in well over a year or the picture he painted of himself as some wild creature who couldn’t be tamed but the shivers were back, causing havoc along her spine and the back of her neck.

Okay, she wasn’t happy with the arrangements made on her behalf but she couldn’t deny him his bed choice when he’d gone so far out of his way for her already. She couldn’t form a logical argument anyway when her brain was still stuck on a freeze frame of caveman Joe.

* * *

The smiling Miriama was as welcoming as anyone could hope for. Until she found out Emily had yet to meet with the tribal elders and shooed them both back out of the door. She’d unhitched her grandson with the promise of getting some ice for the bump on his forehead and accepted some paracetamol, which Joe had produced from his shorts of many pockets. This new informal approach to treatment would take some getting used to. Just like her new co-worker would.

They retrieved her gifts for the community on the way back to the chief’s house and dispatched the rest of her belongings back to her temporary lodgings with the children. Trust didn’t come easily to her any more but she was willing to take a leap of faith safe in the knowledge there were few places on the island to hide. She’d found that out the minute she’d set foot on the beach.

Now she was standing on the doorstep of the most important man on Yasi as Joe entered into a dialogue she assumed involved her arrival. It was hard to tell because they were conversing in Fijian, another skill he’d apparently acquired in his short time here and one more advantage over her. Languages had never been her strong point. Along with keeping a husband.

She was hanging back as the menfolk discussed her business, still hoping for a way out, when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

‘Hey, sis. Long time no see.’

In her desire to be accepted she thought she’d imagined her stepbrother standing beside her in a garish pink hibiscus shirt but there was no mistaking the bear hug as anything but the real deal as the breath was almost squeezed out of her.

‘Peter?’ The tears were already welling in her eyes with relief to have finally found some comfort.

‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now, Joe will be acting as our “chief” since he’s the eldest of our group, or temporary tribe. It’s his job to present the kava root to the elders. We’ll talk you through everything else once we’re inside.’

He instructed her to remove her sandals before they entered. Sandwiched between her brother and Joe was the safest she’d felt in an age. They sat down on woven mats strewn across the floor of the main room, surrounded by those she assumed were the elders of the village.

‘I take it everything met with their approval?’ She leaned over to whisper to her unofficial leader sitting cross-legged beside her.

Joe kept his gaze straight ahead, completely ignoring her. She didn’t know if pretending she didn’t exist was part of the process until she was accepted into the community or if he was completely relinquishing all responsibility for her now Peter had appeared. Either way, it hurt.

She leaned back the other direction toward Peter. ‘Am I persona non grata around here until the ceremony’s over?’

He frowned at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

She nodded at her silent partner. ‘Your friend here can be a little cold when he wants. Thanks for landing me with a complete stranger, by the way. Just what I needed to make me feel at home. Not.’

The cheesy grin told her he’d done it on purpose. ‘I thought you two could do with some team bonding since you’ll be working together, and he volunteered in the first place. I should probably mention he’s a bit hard of hearing, especially if you’re whispering.’

‘I had no idea!’ Shame enveloped her. It had never entered her head that hearing impairment could’ve been an issue with Joe when he was so young and capable. She of all people should’ve known not to make assumptions based on people’s appearances.

‘Yeah. IED blast. The one where we lost Ste and Batesy.’

The pieces she’d been scrambling to put together slowly fitted into place. Of course, she’d heard of Sergeant Joe Braden. He’d been one of Peter’s best friends and that blast had made her brother finally experience for himself the worry and fear of losing someone close. It hadn’t been long after that he’d made the decision to change his career path completely. She hated it that his friends had suffered so much for him to reach that point and now she’d met the man behind the name, that blast held more significance than ever.

She sneaked a sideways peek at him. His strong profile gave no clue to his impairment. There was no physical evidence to provoke a discussion or sympathy. Unlike her, whose scars were there for the world to see and pass judgement on.

Over the years she’d heard all sorts of theories whispered behind her back. From being scalded as a baby to being the victim of a house fire or an acid attack, she’d heard them all. In the end it had been easier to simply cover the birthmark than to endure the constant rumours.

Joe came across as a stronger, more confident person than she could ever hope to be, but that kind of injury must’ve caused him the same level of anguish at one time or another. Someone like him would’ve seen it as a personal weakness when their whole career had been built on personal fitness and being the best. She barely knew him but she could tell that the word ‘courage’ was stamped all over his DNA. She was even more in awe of him now she knew something of his past.

As though he could sense her staring at the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft contours of his lips, Joe slowly turned to face her. ‘There’s a certain guide to drinking kava. You clap once with a cupped hand, making a hollow sound, and yell, ‘Bula!’ Drink it in one gulp, clap three times and say, ‘Mathe.’ You’ll be offered the option of high tide or low tide. I strongly advise low tide for your first time.’

‘Okay...’ She might’ve put this down as some sort of elaborate practical joke if it wasn’t for the twinkle in his eye and his excited-puppy enthusiasm while waiting for the ceremony to begin. In contrast to her reservations about the whole palaver, he clearly relished being a part of the culture.

He fell silent again as the villagers began to grind up the kava in the centre of the room. There were few women present but as the proceedings got under way she didn’t feel intimidated at all. The relaxed atmosphere and the men playing guitar in the corner of the room gave it more of a party vibe. Despite her initial reservations, she was actually beginning to relax.