The Country Doctor's Daughter Read online

  ‘Daddy, Daddy!’ Jenny opened her arms as best she could.

  Luc leaned over and gave her a gentle hug, a kiss, and then sat on the side of the bed. ‘How are you feeling, little girl?’

  ‘I’ve written a letter! And Auntie Kelly says you will send it to the nurses in the hospital where I was, cos they will want to know how I am.’

  ‘I’m sure they will.’ Luc studied the sheet of paper that Jenny had passed him.

  ‘That’s me in bed with the fix…fix thing on my leg,’ Jenny said importantly. ‘Daddy, can Auntie Kelly come to stay with us?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, darling. She has her own home and she loves it.’

  ‘Sometimes she could come, and hold me when I cry in the night. Like you do. And then you could get more sleep.’

  ‘You’re going to stop crying in the night soon, because you are getting better. Now, drink your milk. It makes bones mend.’

  This was a side of Luc that Kelly hadn’t seen before. He was tender. The love he had for his daughter was obvious when he stroked her hair, when he held the glass to her mouth, when he kissed her gently on the cheek.

  ‘I wish I had someone who could love me like that,’ Kelly muttered to herself. Then she blanched. What was she thinking?

  GILL SANDERSON, aka Roger Sanderson, started writing as a husband-and-wife team. At first Gill created the storyline, characters and background, asking Roger to help with the actual writing. But her job became more and more time-consuming, and he took over all of the work. He loves it!

  Roger has written many Medical™ Romance books for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Ideas come from three of his children—Helen is a midwife, Adam a health visitor, Mark a consultant oncologist. Weekdays are for work; weekends find Roger walking in the Lake District or Wales.

  Recent titles by the same author:

  THE MIDWIFE AND THE SINGLE DAD

  A MOTHER FOR HIS SON

  NURSE BRIDE, BAYSIDE WEDDING*

  THEIR MIRACLE CHILD

  A BABY OF THEIR OWN**

  THE DOCTOR’S BABY SURPRISE**

  A SURGEON, A MIDWIFE: A FAMILY**

  THE COUNTRY DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER

  BY

  GILL SANDERSON

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  For Sweetpea—Wuv you.

  THE COUNTRY DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER

  CHAPTER ONE

  DR KELLY BLACKMAN liked walking in the sunshine. Here, the sun wasn’t too hot or the air too dry and the wind didn’t blow sand so that…Here, on the south coast of Brittany things were just fine.

  Well, as fine as they could be. Finer than they had been over the past six months. For a start, all that was left of the injury to her leg was a scar that was easily disguised. Not that that had ever been so important.

  She had been ill, really ill. But now it was over, she was cured. She was starting a new life. And if at first she felt a little uncertain, not sure of where she was going or what she wanted, well, that was to be expected. She’d planned an easy start for a month or so—and then on to anywhere in the world!

  She had thought this path would be deserted. But in the distance she saw a man coming towards her and she veered away from the cliff edge, headed through the gorse. She’d go back to her cottage now, she didn’t feel like another chat. She’d start being a friendly member of the community when she began work, in a week’s time.

  In fact, she recognised the man. He was the village postman. That morning he had congratulated her on her French, and had obviously wanted to talk longer. But he had bright golden hair. Nothing wrong with that, it wasn’t his fault, it just brought back memories of another man.

  And the memories of the golden-haired man were still with her now, even though her other problem had completely disappeared.

  She had always been ready to face her problems—perhaps too ready. So now she had to face up to the fact that Gary was gone, he was out of her life. She had torn up all his letters—not that there had been too many of them. She had thrown away the gifts he had given her. She’d offered him back the engagement ring—he had taken it. She wondered if he would try to sell it, or even keep it for the next woman he fooled.

  Don’t look back, look forward! Gary was gone, he wasn’t worth bothering about! All right, for a while perhaps her behaviour had been hard to take, she must have been difficult to live with. But there had always been an end in sight, he’d known she was curable. She knew that if the situation had been reversed, she would have stood by him, would have been patient, would have been loving. Not Gary. He didn’t do being patient. And then there was that last ultimate betrayal. So now she had to get over him. Another hurdle.

  Would she ever meet, ever love another man? She doubted it. She just couldn’t imagine offering any other man the unquestioning devotion she had given to Gary. Always, she would be cautious, afraid. Not a good beginning for any relationship.

  She was nearly home now. In front of her was a tiny path through the gorse, she guessed it would lead to the back of her cottage. It would be quicker to climb the slight rise in front of her, to walk back along the main road that led to the village. She could hear the hum of the occasional passing car, slowing as it negotiated the first of the hairpin bends that led down past her cottage into the village square. But she would stay here, where it was more pleasant.

  She thought she’d enjoy her three months’ stay in the whitewashed cottage. She’d be happy here in the little French seaside village of Riom. The cottage belonged to Dr Joe Cameron, an old friend—usually he lived in it while he acted as part-time doctor at a local practice. Kelly was taking over both the cottage and the part-time job; this year Joe was going to New Zealand to see his son and family.

  It would be good to get back into medicine again. She was ready for it now—even eager for it. Joe had said that she was completely cured but to take it easy for a while. Work herself back into things. This was a job that would enable her to stay tranquil.

  That was weird, she thought she could hear the sound of children singing. Next, she was half-conscious of the sound of an engine. A car was speeding down the hill, far too fast to negotiate the bends that…She didn’t have time to complete the thought.

  She had not expected this! Not straight away! For a while her life was supposed to be calm, uneventful, without any undue excitement. But suddenly she was there again, in the middle of it, the sounds so familiar, so terrible. The car must have crashed. There was the bang of a bursting tyre, the shriek of tortured metal. A moment or two later the softer but even more frightening ‘woof’ of fuel catching fire. And then, just faintly, the smell of burning petrol. And screams. Kelly winced. She knew this scene, she was back there!

  Her body reacted before her brain did. She turned, ran up the slope that overlooked the road. In an accident sometimes even the first few seconds were important.

  Her expert eye assessed the situation at once. An old Citroën minibus, lying on its side, jammed against a stone wall. A sign on the side said that it belonged to the École Élémentaire de Merveille. There were flames coming from somewhere but so far there had been no explosion. Two young children stood nearby. A door was open in the upturned side of the vehicle and a man with blood streaming down the side of his face was helping a crying child to climb out. There were still screams coming from inside but Kelly’s trained ear detected that so far they were more screams of fear than actual physical pain. That was good—but only trouble could come from panic. A van full of children—how many available, useful adults?

  For Kelly this was like old times, she automatically knew what to do. Assess what you saw. These were children, which made things worse, but the situation seemed ultimately containable. This was a management
problem before it was a medical one.

  First, she could do with expert help. Joe had told her that the doctor she was to work for, a Dr Luc Laforge, lived only five minutes’ drive from the village. Kelly was to start work for him in a week’s time, she had intended to phone him after she had settled into her cottage. But this was an emergency, she needed him now. She took out her mobile phone, called the pre-set number. Fortunately, there was an instant answer.

  ‘Dr Laforge? This is Dr Blackman, I am to be your new locum doctor. A minibus has crashed and overturned here on the hill that runs down from Merveille into Riom. Children are injured, perhaps not seriously, but I need help.’

  ‘I’ll be there in five minutes, Dr Blackman.’ He rang off.

  Kelly nodded her satisfaction. This was a man who understood emergencies.

  She walked to the side of the minibus, summoned up her French and told the three children to go to the far side of the road, sit high on the bank and not move. Then she heaved herself up onto the side of the vehicle, looked at the bleeding man.

  ‘I’m a doctor, let me take charge. Have you got a first-aid kit, a fire extinguisher?’

  The man was obviously shocked. ‘The tyre burst,’ he said plaintively, ‘I was driving round the bend and the tyre burst.’

  ‘Never mind that now! Do you have a first-aid kit, a fire extinguisher?’

  She had to repeat her question. Be patient, the man was shocked. ‘Under the front seat. They’re both there.’

  Kelly peered down. There appeared to be five children lying tumbled among the seats. Another man was trying to pull a child from under a pile of baggage.

  ‘You,’ Kelly snapped. ‘Leave that child alone, I’ll come and see to her. Pass me the fire extinguisher from under the front seat and then climb up here.’

  Startled, the man did as he was told. Kelly handed the fire extinguisher to the bleeding man by her side. ‘This should be good enough to put out the flames,’ she said. ‘When you’ve done that, walk up the road with your red triangle and make sure any oncoming traffic stops. We don’t want another accident. Oh, and hold this to your face.’ She took the silk scarf from round her neck and handed it to him.

  The man stared at her. ‘Do it now!’ Kelly shouted. The man responded at once.

  Kelly realised she was forgetting something. She was slipping. ‘What is your name, please?’ she asked the man now standing by her.

  ‘I am Armand Leblanc. I am a teacher and I—’

  ‘My name’s Kelly, Kelly Blackman, and I’m an English doctor. Who’s that who is putting out the fire?’

  ‘That is François Moliere. He was our driver and I—’

  ‘Armand and Francois, good. We can cope with this.’

  In a situation like this, names were important. Call them by name and people felt they were part of a team, not a cog in a machine. Names made people more efficient.

  ‘You stay out here, Armand, and I’ll drop down to examine the children before we move them. When I pass them up to you, see that they sit quietly together at the far side of the road. Has François managed to put out the fire?’

  ‘He has. He’s walking up the road as you told him.’

  ‘Good.’

  She dropped into the vehicle and found herself kneeling on the side of a seat. Around her, like scattered dolls, were five children, aged, she guessed, about seven. Three were crying, one, who appeared to be trapped, was moaning, one was suspiciously silent. ‘Children!’ she called. ‘This is an adventure. I know you’re upset but soon you’ll all be well and you can carry on with your trip. I want you all to remain absolutely still until I have looked at you. Now, I heard you singing. What is your favourite song, the one you were singing as you came down the hill?’

  ‘“Frère Jacques”,’ a voice offered.

  ‘Sing “Frère Jacques” to me. Loudly!’

  A moment’s silence. Then one quavering voice started and then one or two more. It was a start, Kelly thought.

  First, a lightning ABC check on each child. Airway, breathing, circulation. All well so far. She bent over, scrabbled under the front seat and found the first-aid kit. It wasn’t equipped for large-scale accidents like this but there would be something of use.

  Next, the unconscious child. As Kelly knelt over her, her eyes twitched open and she groaned. Kelly looked into the eyes, one pupil was much more dilated than the other. Concussion. This child would need hospital care. She had forgotten again! ‘Armand! Has anyone informed the police, asked for an ambulance?’

  ‘I called on my mobile phone. But they might be some time.’

  ‘Well done.’

  Kelly felt round the back of the child’s head, there was a bad gash there and more blood than she had realised. There was a lump but she didn’t think the skull was fractured. Still, the gash needed immediate attention. Kelly found an emergency dressing, put it on the cut and then wrapped bandages tightly round the head. It was an improvised job but it was the kind of thing she had had to do before. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best she could do and it would slow the bleeding.

  Then, as far as possible, an examination of the rest of the body. Scratches, bruises, she didn’t think there was anything more seriously wrong. But the child could rest here a minute.

  Unbelievably, the three children who had been singing had finished their song—and had started another. Kelly shook her head.

  She turned to the child who had been moaning, and winced. She didn’t like the way the child’s head was lolling to one side. She shook out the contents of the first-aid box—no hard collar.

  She took bandages and a dressing from the first-aid kit, tried to adjust the child’s head so that she couldn’t move it. Probably none of the vertebrae would be damaged. But if one was damaged then any sudden movement could result in permanent paralysis of the lower body. Kelly had seen it happen.

  Another quick check of the child’s body, the usual scratches, a deep cut on one arm. Kelly wrapped a temporary dressing round the arm, patted the child’s cheek and murmured, ‘Rest there a while. Try not to move, I’ll be back with you soon.’

  And onto the other three. They seemed to be largely unhurt apart from minor injuries, which were quickly dressed. The children would have to be checked over in hospital, of course, that was essential. This was first aid, she was trying to ensure that they didn’t get any worse until they could have proper medical attention.

  She was about to ask Armand to help her out with the three largely uninjured children when she heard voices. And a second later there was another face looking down at her from the opened door above.

  She shouldn’t have had time to notice—but she did. It was an attractive face. Quite sunburned—as most of them were around here. Not really conventionally good looking but there were laughter lines round startlingly blue eyes, and his lips were curved and looked as if they liked to laugh as well.

  Then his gaze shifted to the children’s bodies lying around her and she saw the horror on his face. Too late, she remembered that she had been told that Dr Laforge had a daughter of about this age—and she had recently been injured in a car crash. What must he be feeling now?

  But the doctor was a professional, here to do his job. She could tell it was an effort for him but his face went blank and he said, ‘Dr Blackman, I’m Dr Laforge. What have you got for me?’ He spoke to her in English.

  His tone was cool, the voice not very welcoming, and Kelly didn’t like the phrasing of his question. She was as much a doctor as he was, this was something that they should do together. Odd, his English was impeccable.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Dr Laforge. Have you got a hard collar with you? I’m not happy about this little girl, she seems to have strained her neck.’

  ‘I always carry a full medical kit in my car.’

  She saw him turn his head, heard him say, ‘Please, could you fetch the large black bag out of the boot of my car?’ Then he turned back to her and said, ‘Dr Blackman, as I recollect, you are not
yet insured to practise medicine in France.’

  ‘No, I am not. Would you have preferred me to sit quietly by the roadside, filling out a formal application for permission?’

  He smiled briefly, and for a moment she saw a different, more pleasant man, the change in his face was so great. ‘Dr Blackman, you have done in France what I trust I would have done in England. But now, may I suggest that I take over the work here and you see to those who we can take out? I suspect there is only room for one doctor to work.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. It made sense. But first she had to make her report. What she had observed, what she had done, what she thought was necessary. Dr Laforge listened and obviously approved. ‘Good,’ he said briefly.

  She climbed out and the doctor took her place. He suggested, ‘Shall we take out these three little girls who appear to be relatively unharmed? You look after them and then I’ll do what I can for the two more seriously injured children.’

  ‘Seems a good plan.’

  Armand returned with a large black bag, handed it down to the doctor. When Kelly saw him take out a hard collar, she decided that there was little more she could do to help.

  She now had six little girls sitting together by the roadside. First of all a quick but more detailed examination of each. She had brought the first-aid kit with her as Dr Laforge now had his own, much larger bag. There were a couple of cuts to dress, grazes to spread ointment on, but nothing serious. She moved them further up the bank so they were in the sun, made them huddle together to keep warm. No hot drink unfortunately—but that would come later. There was still the danger of shock, she had to make them feel loved and comfortable and at ease.

  Of all things, her accent was the thing that amused them. She got them to correct her pronunciation, to tell her words that she claimed not to know. And the little girls laughed and loved it. No danger of shock.