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‘Tired, I expect…’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Struggling desperately to control herself, Jenna rummaged in her pocket for a tissue. Someone pushed one into her hand. ‘Just leave me for a minute—I’ll be fine.’ Oh, God, she was going to crack. Right here in public, with these kind people around her.
Evanna hurried out of her clinic, alerted by Janet. ‘Jenna? Are you all right?’
Jenna blew her nose. ‘Just being really stupid. And making my clinic even more behind than it is at the moment.’
‘Then perhaps we can get on with it? I’m first.’ Mrs Parker’s crisp voice cut through the mumbling and the sympathy. ‘And I’ve been standing on this leg for twenty minutes now. I’m too old to be kept waiting around. It isn’t the first drama we’ve had on Glenmore and it won’t be the last.’
Even the gentle Evanna gritted her teeth, but Jenna stood up, grateful to be forced into action.
‘Of course, Mrs Parker. I’m so sorry. Come with me. The rest of you—’ she glanced around the crowded waiting room ‘—I’ll be as quick as I can.’
Following Mrs Parker down the corridor to her room, Jenna braced herself for a sharp rebuke and a lecture.
Instead she was given a hug. ‘There, now…’ Mrs Parker’s voice shook slightly, and her thin fingers rubbed Jenna’s back awkwardly. ‘Those folks think they’re helping, but they’re overwhelming, aren’t they? I’ve lived on this island all my life and there are times when I could kill the lot of them. You must feel like a crust of bread being fought over by a flock of seagulls.’ With a sniff she pulled away, leaving Jenna with a lump in her throat.
‘Oh, Mrs Parker—’
‘Now, don’t you get all sentimental on me, young lady.’ Mrs Parker settled herself in the chair. ‘Sentimental is all very well once in a while, but it doesn’t solve problems. I’m guessing those tears have nothing to do with that foolhardy rescue or lack of sleep. Do you want to talk about it?’
Jenna blew her nose again. ‘I’m supposed to be dressing your leg—’
‘You’re a woman. Are you telling me you can’t talk and bandage a leg at the same time?’
Jenna gave a weak smile and turned her attention to work. Washing her hands, she prepared the equipment she needed. ‘It’s just reaction to yesterday, I’m sure. And I am a little tired. Really.’
‘I’m old, not stupid. But not so old I don’t remember how it feels to be confused about a man. You came here as a single mother. I’m guessing you’re rethinking that now.’
Jenna’s hands shook as she removed the bandage from the old lad
y’s leg. ‘No. No, I’m not rethinking that. Lexi and I are a team.’
‘So you’re going to let a strong, impressive man like Dr McKinley walk away from you?’
Jenna stilled. She thought about denying it and then realised it was useless. ‘Does everyone know?’
Mrs Parker sighed. ‘Of course. This is Glenmore. What we don’t know is why you’re not just booking the church. The Reverend King is quite happy to marry you, even though you’ve been divorced. I asked him.’
‘You—?’ Jenna gulped. ‘Mrs Parker, you can’t possibly—you shouldn’t have—’
‘You have a daughter. You need to keep it respectable. One bad marriage shouldn’t put you off doing it again.’ Mrs Parker glared at her. ‘What? You think it’s right, teaching that girl of yours it’s all right to take up with whoever takes your fancy? You need to set an example. If you like him enough to roll around in his sheets with him, you like him enough to marry him. And he certainly likes you. There’s a bet going on down at the pub that he’s going to ask you to marry him. You’d better have your answer ready.’
‘It would have to be no.’
Mrs Parker looked at her steadily, her customary frown absent. ‘As we’ve been drinking tea together for almost two months now, perhaps you’d do me the courtesy of explaining why you’d say no to a man most women would kill to be with.’
Jenna didn’t pause to wonder why she was talking to this woman. She needed to talk to someone, and Mrs Parker had proved to be a surprisingly good listener. ‘Because of Lexi.’
She blurted it all out. Everything she was feeling. The only thing she didn’t mention was Ryan’s past. That wasn’t hers to reveal.
Mrs Parker listened without interrupting. Only when Jenna had finished and was placing a fresh dressing on the wound did she finally speak. Her hands were folded carefully in her lap.
Age and wisdom, Jenna thought, wondering what secrets Mrs Parker had in her past. She was a girl once. A young woman. We see them as patients, but they’re people.
‘Tell me something.’ The old lady looked at her in the eye. ‘Do you plan to try and shield your daughter from everything that happens in life?’
Jenna swallowed. ‘If I can.’ Then she gave a sigh. ‘No, of course not. Not everything, but—I love her. I want her to be happy.’
