Hired: GP and Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal by Judy Campbell / Anne Fraser

a certain hesitancy, ‘The fact is, Doctor, my wife’s never been ill in her life—I can’t ever remember her complaining about not feeling well. And I suppose it’s just come home to me that I’d have to cope if she was laid low.’
    And you’re frightened, surmised Terry. For the first time perhaps he was beginning to realise how much he relied on her.
    ‘I’m sure you’d be a tower of strength,’ said Terry bracingly. ‘In the meantime, try not to worry and I’ll probably see you in about two weeks.’
    It was amazing how comforting the familiar platitudes could be. Cyril even managed a grateful smile as he went out, and the confident and rather arrogant manner he’d had the first time Terry had met him had gone.
    At the end of the morning’s surgery Terry went into the office and poured herself a cup of coffee before she tackled the blood test and biopsy results via the e-mails she’d had that day. Isobel was speaking on the phone, looking grimmer than ever. She looked up at Terry.
    ‘Atholl had best get down the glen quickly,’ she said, putting the phone down. ‘Hamish Stoddard has collapsed in a field there and his dogs won’t let anyone near him.’
    ‘What about the ambulance? Anyone called it?’
    Isobel pursed her lips. ‘Oh, yes, but it’s got stuck in the mud and they could do with help anyway, getting it out. It’s pouring with rain out there, by the way.’
    Atholl had strolled in, also to get a coffee, and raised his eyes to the ceiling when he heard the news. ‘Oh, God, poor old Hamish. I bet the man’s having a heart attack—he’s got a history of angina. I’d better take the Land Rover and get there pronto.’ He snatched some biscuits from the plate by the coffee. ‘I’ll take some of these to distract those bad-tempered dogs of his.’ He turned to Terry. ‘Fancy having your first taste of rural excitement? If you’ve got wellies and a mac, put them on and come with me—I may need help.’
    Caught up with the potential drama of the situation, Terry rushed out of the room to collect her outdoor clothing, a little buzz of anticipation zipping through her at the thought of working closely with Atholl, and that old familiar rush of nervous adrenaline that a medical drama produced.
    The weather had changed yet again and Terry gazed out of the car window at the lashing rain. The trees in the fields bent in the wind, and dark clouds scudded across leaden skies, with the background shapes of black mountains. How snug the inside of the car seemed, cocooned from the weather, and how aware she was of the closeness of Atholl sitting next to her. He peered through the windscreen as the wipers did their best to cope with the deluge. It was like driving underwater.
    ‘Nothing like coping with a heart attack in the middle of a field in the pouring rain,’ he commented grimly. ‘As I said, Hamish has a history of cardiac trouble and he’s a heavy smoker, so it’s been a disaster waiting to happen. I’ve been on at him to retire, but he’s a stubborn old fool and won’t countenance it. These sheep farmers won’t give up easily.’
    He swung the vehicle in through the rough track to some farm buildings and a group of men huddled round an ambulance at the far end of the field.
    ‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we can do for him.’
    Atholl grabbed his medical bag and they both leapt out of the car and went as quickly as they could through the muddy field to where the ambulance was. And she’d thought she was coming to a quiet little corner of Britain where nothing much happened, reflected Terry wryly. She was beginning to understand what Atholl had meant when he said she’d probably be dealing with a completely different range of situations from the practice in London!
    The elderly man was lying on the ground and two sheepdogs were standing guard by him with a small group of men—farm workers and paramedics—grouped beyond him. The ambulance was heavily bedded into