‘Well, whatever you do, don’t put her in charge of family planning. As you can probably tell from looking at me, contraception is so not her specialist subject.’

‘Lexi!’ Jenna sounded mortified and the girl flushed.

‘Sorry. It’s just—oh, never mind. Being in this place is really doing my head in.’ Close to tears, the teenager flipped her hair away from her face and stared across the quay. ‘Is there an internet café or something? Any way of contacting the outside world? Or are we using Morse code and smoke signals? Or, better still, can we just go home, Mum?’

Ryan was still watching Jenna. He saw the pain in her eyes, the exasperation and the sheer grit and determination. She looked like someone who was fighting her way through a storm, knowing that there was no shelter.

Interesting, he mused, that Glenmore so often provided a bolthole for the wounded.

He wondered what these two were escaping.

Sensing that Jenna was hideously embarrassed, he knew he ought to say something—but what did he know about handling teenagers? Nothing. And he knew even less about what to say to soften the blow of teenage rudeness. Assuming that something along the lines of she’ll be leaving home in another four years wouldn’t go down well, Ryan opted to keep his mouth shut.

He’d never raised a child, had he?

Never been given that option. Anger thudded through him and he stilled, acknowledging that the feelings hadn’t gone away. He’d buried them, but they were still there.

Taking an audible breath, Jenna picked up their bags. ‘We’re renting a cottage at West Beach. Is there a bus that goes that way?’

‘No bus. There are taxis, but before you think about that I have a favour to ask.’

‘What favour can I possibly do you already?’

Ryan gently prised the suitcases from her cold fingers, sensing the vulnerability hidden beneath layers of poise and dignity. ‘I know you’re not supposed to officially start until tomorrow, but we’re snowed under at the surgery. I’m supposed to exert my charm to persuade you to start early, only I was up three times in the night so I’m not feeling that charming. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack and say yes.’

‘You do house-calls?’

‘Is that surprising?’

‘The doctors I worked with rarely did their own house-calls. It was the one thing—’ She broke off and smiled at him, obviously deciding that she’d said too much.

‘On Glenmore we can’t delegate. We don’t have an out-of-hours service or a local hospital—it’s just the three of us.’ He looked at her pointedly. ‘Four now. You’re one of the team.’ And he still wasn’t sure what he thought about that.