A Nurse to Heal His Heart

By Louisa George

She makes him feel alive again But can he heal her heart too? Single dad GP Joe Thompson’s priorities are his daughter and his patients. It might’ve earned him a brooding reputation, but since losing his wife romance has been off-limits…until he meets locum nurse Rose McIntyre! Her warm smile and live-for-the-moment attitude soothe a pain Joe believed would never fade. But can Joe stop Rose running from her own secrets…and find comfort in his arms? Harlequin Medical Romance: Life and love in the world of modern medicine. “I liked the hero immediately…. However, it was from the moment the hero and heroine come face-to-face for the first time that had me reading quickly, determined to discover more….” Harlequin Junkie on Reunited by Their Secret Son “This was a beautiful, emotional story filled with exciting medical drama… plenty of light-hearted moments to give relief to the more emotional aspects of the story, it was perfectly balanced and a joy to read.” Goodreads on The Nurse’s Special Delivery

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jan 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781488047732

Louisa George

Award-winning author Louisa George has been an avid reader her whole life. In between chapters she managed to train as a nurse, marry her doctor hero and have two sons. Now she writes chapters of her own in the medical romance, contemporary romance and women's fiction genres. Louisa's books have variously been nominated for the coveted RITA Award, and the NZ Koru Award and have been translated into twelve languages. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

THERE SHE WAS AGAIN.

The third day in a row she’d marched past his house, rattled through the farm gate bordering his property and walked up onto the hill path. He wouldn’t have noticed—Joe generally took little interest in the steady stream of day-trippers and hikers walking past his foothills cottage—only for the bright multi-coloured hat and lipstick-red knitted knee-length coat more suitable for shopping than hiking.

It was the hat that had first caught his attention. Oranges and yellows and something he was sure his sister would call umber or something. Like a sunburst, or sunrise. A fresh vibrancy in the Lake District early autumnal grey they’d been having for the last few weeks. But wearing a wool coat and no decent wet weather gear? Downright foolish. She was probably one of those ill-equipped flakes he heard about too regularly, that had Search and Mountain Rescue out in the dark, risking their own lives.

Should he tell her about today’s forecast? Run after her like a busybody and tell her to wrap up warmly and get back down before dark and the threatened downpour?

Like hell. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t get so involved these days—live and let live. Get Katy ready for school, then go to work, come home. That was his life now: rinse and repeat.

But there was something about the brightness that compelled him to watch her. She’d stopped along the path and was looking out over the hotchpotch of grey stone and whitewashed buildings in the village. From this vantage point at the kitchen sink he had a closer view of her profile. Fresh pink cheeks. Long white-blonde hair cascading down her back as she shook her head from side to side and stretched her arms out wide, raised a leg. Such joy and energy in her movements, she waved her arms in the air and breathed deeply, maintaining her single leg balance. A yoga position?

She was doing yoga on a mountainside in sleepy Oakdale.

Yeah, it took all sorts.

As if she knew he was looking, she turned to him and smiled. Something about the openness of her face, of the soft yet bright eyes, had him instinctively smiling back. Enough of a rarity these days that it made the muscles around his mouth feel stretched and strange.

He made a snap decision—hell, he was just doing his civic duty—and found himself on the path running towards her. It hadn’t started raining yet, but the wind was cruel and cold. He liked it that way. It bit through his skin, reminding him that he had once been a man who felt things instead of just numbly going through the motions.

‘Hey.’ He caught up with her. Close up, she was...well, she was beautiful. English rose complexion, pretty smile and that long hair moving round her shoulders like a languid river as she turned to look at him. Beautiful indeed. It had been a very long time since he’d been struck enough to think something like that about a woman. He cleared his throat, raised his voice above the wild whip of wind. ‘It’s going to rain.’

‘I know. I checked the forecast.’ Her voice was soft, like velvet. A purr. Her eyes a curious amber colour. Something he’d never seen before. Or at least hadn’t noticed. A hint of an accent, definitely southern. Not from around here, so no understanding of how quickly bad weather could creep up.

‘But still no raincoat? No waterproof trousers? Gaiters?’ She didn’t even have a rucksack and he’d take bets on her not having a drink or snack in those cosy pockets in case of emergency. Wool? In the rain? Hypothermia would hit her before she had the chance to call the Oakdale team out. Didn’t she know how stupid that was? ‘I hope you’re not going to be out for long—it’s dangerous to be dressed like that out here. The weather changes very quickly at the top of those mountains and you could get caught out. People would have to risk their lives trying to find you if you got lost or hurt—imagine that. Imagine if someone got hurt because you didn’t plan your hike properly. You’re not remotely prepared for the conditions. Any conditions, to be honest.’

Her sunny smile fell as she looked at his collared cotton shirt then down at his leather work shoes. ‘Neither are you, but I wouldn’t dream of being so rude to a stranger.’

‘Rude? I was trying to help.’ Thanks for nothing.

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at her legs then back at him. ‘Do I look as if I need help?’

Anything but. She looked vibrant and strong. Long limbs encased in black Lycra tights. Pink-cheeked. Well, actually red-faced now. He shrugged. ‘Okay. Suit yourself. Get wet.’

She tipped her head and looked at the blackening clouds. ‘I like rain.’

She really was a flake, then. Rain might have been good for crops, but it wasn’t good for ill-prepared hikers. Or car drivers... He pushed that memory away, along with the accompanying ache in his heart. ‘Good, because you’re going to get a soaking today. Fill your boots.’

‘I intend to.’ At least she had sturdy shoes on. That was something. Gold eyes flashed with irritation. Warm-coloured pupils with a cold fleck of anger. She held his gaze.

And he held it right back. So much for being the Good Samaritan. He’d know better next time.

‘Daddy? Dad! What are you doing out here? What’s for breakfast? Can we have pancakes today?’

His daughter’s voice jolted him back to reality. Behind him, Katy was shivering on the path, dressed only in her pyjamas. Nothing on her feet.

‘Quick, inside—you’ll get cold out here.’ He ran back to the house, cursing to himself. Idiot. That was the last time he’d try to be helpful. ‘Sorry, darling. No pancakes on a school day. I’m making porridge and there’s a banana for afterwards.’

‘Aww. Not fair.’

‘Keep complaining and it’ll be two bowls of porridge,’ he quipped, trying to make her smile while making a deal.

Katy’s bottom lip protruded in her well-worn, years-old way of appealing to his soft side. ‘Granny makes pancakes every day when I’m there. Why can’t we have them every day too?’

Joe bit back the healthy eating lecture that seemed to form the basis of their communication these days. His beautiful, playful toddler had turned into a demanding little Miss recently and he wasn’t sure why. Growing pains? Not for the first time—and definitely not the last—he wondered how different things might have been if Katy had had two parents around to bring her up. And with that thought he slopped the porridge into a bowl, the altercation with the woman still infiltrating his mood. Thank God he’d never need to speak to her again. Tomorrow, if she went past, he’d keep his mouth shut. Good luck to her.

He slid the bowl over to his eight-going-on-eighteen-year-old. ‘Hey, you’ll thank me when you still have lots of energy to run around at playtime.’

‘Ugh. But I don’t like it.’ Katy really did look dismayed and Joe’s heart pinged. Guilt lingered around the edges. Work was too damned busy at the moment; two staff down had made them all fraught, working extra hours to keep up with demand. Which meant less time with Katy. But now, as she watched his reaction, she grinned so easily, turning from heartbroken to heartbreaker with the simple upturn of her lips. ‘I have lots of energy. All the time. And I really, really like pancakes. They’re the best thing ever and if I have them I’ll smile all day. For ever.’

For ever. He wished he could somehow stop time and preserve her like this, so innocent and so easily pleased by little things.

‘Okay, we can set the alarm for earlier tomorrow and try making some pancakes. But you remember what happened last time?’

‘You just threw it too high. We know better now. Granny’s shown me how to flip them properly.’ His daughter looked up at the sticky patch on the ceiling that he hadn’t quite managed to remove with normal detergent and water. ‘I’ll show you.’

‘Okay. Pancakes tomorrow. Now, eat up the porridge.’ And there. He’d given in to her again. How could he not? She was the light of his life, the reason he got up in the morning. Things could have been so different...

As he tipped the rest of the sludgy breakfast into his own bowl his gaze drifted outside again. Thick clouds darkened the sky as heavy raindrops pelted the windows. See? She’d be getting soaked right about now. Rude? No, sensible. Unlike sunburst hat woman, who had disappeared and taken what little was left of his good mood with her.

---

The irritation lingered with him for the rest of the morning. His sister would have told him he had a choice and that he could choose to be jovial. But now he was running forty minutes late and was choosing to be quietly efficient and, okay, he might well have come across as gruff to the patient who complained about being kept waiting. Jovial and work-smart didn’t figure in his picture right now. He was a man, after all; he couldn’t multi-task.

And as if he needed more proof of his inability to focus, every time he tried writing up his notes he stared at the screen and the image of sunburst hat woman filled his head. Gah. He’d been rude and she’d called him on it, rightly. But it had been for her own good. At least that was what he kept trying to convince himself. And those eyes... The memory of that unusual colour had lingered as long as his bad mood. Why had he gone outside to talk to her when women were off his agenda these days?

‘You want a cuppa?’ Maxine, his trusty receptionist, called through his open office door.

‘Brilliant. Yes, please, in my takeaway cup though, because I’m just heading out on the home visits.’

Maxine hobbled in on her arthritic legs. One day, too soon, she’d retire and he’d never find someone to truly replace her. She wasn’t just the face of Oakdale Medical, she was it, heart and soul. ‘You’ll come through to the staffroom first, though, Joey? The new locum nurse has popped in for a walk-through before she starts properly tomorrow and I want you to say hello.’

There was a glint in her eye that made him nervous. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe, because Maxine hadn’t had a glint in her eye for a long time. ‘Oh?’

‘We’ve got her for a month so we’ve got some breathing space to fill the vacancy. Be nice—I don’t want you scaring her off.’

‘I’m always nice.’

‘Hmm... No comment.’ She smiled and he remembered his sister saying Maxine needed a medal for putting up with him these last few years. No doubt she was right. He hadn’t exactly been a bundle of laughs recently. ‘Come and say hello at least.’

He probably should, and be thankful someone had turned up at all, given the scarcity of people wanting to work here in the middle of nowhere, but he had patients who needed him to visit them. ‘Would it be rude if I said no, and that I’ll meet her tomorrow? I’ve got too much to do before the afternoon clinic.’

‘Right you are. I’ll tell her. She’s lovely, so I’m sure she’ll understand. Actually, there’s something about her that seems...’ As she shook her head her nose crinkled. ‘Oh, nothing really. Just me being silly.’

‘Seems what?’ He didn’t want anyone upsetting his staff. But there he was, jumping to conclusions before he’d set eyes on the woman.

‘I don’t know...familiar, I suppose, although I’ve never met her before. She’s nice. Got a nice manner. Friendly.’ As she turned to leave she stopped short and inhaled sharply. ‘Oh. Oh.’

His gut clenched. ‘Everything okay, Maxine?’

She hunched forward and rubbed at her chest. Frowned. ‘Nothing. Don’t fuss. Just indigestion. I told David not to put onions in my sandwiches, but did he listen? No. And I ate them anyway, too quickly for my own good.’

‘You sure you’re okay?’ Pulse prickling with concern, Joe was halfway across the room, assessing her pallor and breathing rate. ‘What kind of pain is it? Come and sit down; let me look you over.’

She threw him the same look she’d been giving him for the last five years or so. ‘Since that accident you’ve been on a mission to save the world, Joseph Thompson. And you can’t. You’ve got to stop worrying about everyone and everything.’

‘I care about you, so sue me. Let me check you over. Sit down.’ He didn’t want to be reminded about the accident and his overwhelming need to protect those he cared about. ‘Please, Maxine. It won’t take a minute.’

But, woefully stubborn as usual, she straightened and waved him back to his seat. ‘I’m fine, Joey. Don’t go bothering about me. I’ll pop the kettle on. The closed sign’s up, Jenny’s out on calls, Alex is still on annual leave and the nurses are at a vaccination update over at the community hub in Ambleside, so it’s tea for two. Oh...three if we count Rose.’

‘Rose?’

Maxine’s voice wafted down the corridor and he could picture her rolling her eyes, just so. ‘The new nurse.’

The one he was choosing not to see. Right. Too bad. She’d understand once she saw his task list and inbox. He checked the clock on his computer screen as he finished writing up the last patient’s notes. Five minutes before he was due at his first house call—a fifteen-minute drive away. Today, he was destined to run late for everything. Maybe he’d take a raincheck on that cup of—

‘Quick! Someone? Dr...er...er...?’ The woman’s voice, assertive but breathy, came from Reception. ‘Someone? Hello? Er... Crash call! Now.’

Crash call? Damn.

It took him less than five seconds to run up the corridor, but his heart rate trebled as he saw Maxine lying on the floor and a woman with white-blonde hair in a messy ponytail tilting his lovely receptionist’s chin back...about to breathe for her?

What the hell? ‘Maxine?’

‘She collapsed. Cardiac, I’m sure. She was clutching her chest.’ Amber eyes turned to him, then narrowed. ‘Oh. It’s you.’

---

‘Joe Thompson. Dr Joe Thompson.’ He nodded, then knelt next to Maxine with no hint of recognition or memory of their altercation this morning.

‘And I’m Rose.’ Great. He was the doctor she’d come to work with? The guy from the hill? The kind of pompous man she’d left behind, along with her old life. Still, if he was a stickler for the right walking gear he’d be picky about getting CPR technique right too. She just hoped they wouldn’t need it. ‘Faint carotid pulse. Dyspnoea. I caught her as she fell and lowered her to the floor, so no head or other bony injury.’

She looked down at the sweet woman who’d been showing her round the medical centre only a few minutes ago. They’d been getting on so well before this; Rose had been looking forward to working with her. She had a nice nature Rose had been instantly drawn to, and she also knew her way round the medical centre like an old hand. Maxine’s eyes flickered open and she winced. ‘Pain. Arm. Chest.’

‘Okay, Maxi. We’ll sort you out. Don’t worry; we’ve got you. It’ll be fine.’ The doctor’s face softened with affection and concern as he examined their unexpected patient. ‘Those damned onions, right? I’ll have to have a word with David.’

Onions? No. Rose blinked up at him and shook her head. It was some sort of cardiac problem. Clearly. What the hell kind of doctor was he? It was obviously cardiac and if anyone knew what that meant she did. She felt her own chest constrict and the long scar down her ribcage prickle in sympathy. ‘Er...the pain is central chest and radiating to the left and down her arm. She’s short of breath and has a weak pulse. It’s not gastric—’

He looked at her as if she’d spoken out of turn. ‘I am well aware of the symptoms.’

Yeah. Pompous was one thing, but misguided? Wrong, actually. ‘You alluded to it being gastric, and it’s not—’

Ignoring the rest of Rose’s input, he pointed down the corridor, his voice all business as he spoke. ‘ECG machine, portable oxygen and defibrillator are on a trolley in the treatment room. Down there. Second right. Bring it all here then call 999. Our full address is by the phone behind you, but shouldn’t be necessary as they know where we are.’

She gritted her teeth and did as requested as efficiently as she could, given she’d only had a brief whip round the place in preparation for a full induction tomorrow. But it gave her enough time to ruminate on her impression of her new colleague and boss. Bad enough that he’d taken umbrage at her clothing choices this morning, but he was also one hell of a grumpy dude at work too.

It was just a shame he was so damned good-looking and she would have to endure looking at those soulful blue eyes for the duration of her stay. Never mind the impressive height and shock of blond hair—had Vikings ever made it this far west? If so, here was their long-lost son. Dr Joe Thor Thompson.

Tall. Pompous. Sexy eyes. A tick list to avoid if ever there was one. Been there, done that. Not happening again.

By the time she got off the phone the doctor had managed to assist Maxine onto a gurney Rose had dragged up from the treatment room along with the resus trolley, assessed her blood pressure and oxygen saturation, fitted an oxygen mask over her face and was attaching a twelve lead ECG to her chest. ‘Breathing any better?’

Maxine shifted the mask so