‘I bet you can do with a drink after serving this many cups of tea.’
‘That’s for sure.’ The woman reached for two teacups and poured a splash into the bottom of each, handing Kate one. ‘I’m Pat. Here’s to a happy ending.’
Kate grinned. ‘Kate. To happy endings.’
They clinked their cups together, and Pat downed the contents of hers in one. Kate followed suit, almost choking as the astringent heat hit the back of her throat.
‘Oh...!’ Pat’s eyes had filled with tears, and she blinked them away. ‘I’m not used to this. But it’s a bit of a tradition here, once we get the dishwasher stacked.’
Kate sat down with a bump on one of the chairs next to the tea table, her head swimming. ‘Maybe I should have sipped it.’
‘Me too. So much for bravado.’ Pat reached for another mug and filled both with tea, pushing Kate’s towards her.
‘Here’s to bravado, then.’ Kate grinned, taking a welcome mouthful of tea.
‘Yes, that’s much better.’ Pat sat down, looking at Kate speculatively. ‘You know Ethan, then?’
‘Yes. I’m a vet. I looked after his dog, Jeff.’
Pat nodded. ‘Poor old Jeff. Great big thing but as gentle as they come. When Sam was little he used to sit himself down next to his pushchair, nudging anyone he didn’t know away if they got too close. Jenna used to have to lean on him, to get him to move.’
‘You knew Ethan’s wife?’ It seemed somehow presumptuous to use her name.
‘Oh, yes, she came from around here. And she was often in the village. She used to bring Sam to see his grandparents. Such a shame. If there were ever two people that belonged together...’
Kate took a swallow of her tea. For a short time it had seemed that she and Ethan belonged together. But she knew so little about Ethan, and if the people he’d grown up with said he belonged with someone else then it must be true.
‘Sam seems... He’s got a great relationship with his dad.’
‘Yes, he has. And Ethan’s devoted to him. Chocolate biscuit?’
‘Yes, please. Can I take it with me? I should get back to our stand. I’m sure there’s something I can help with.’ Kate managed a smile as Pat stripped the cling-film off one of the plates and wrapped three biscuits, putting them into her hand.
‘There you go, my love.’
She wandered outside, sitting down on the steps outside the front of the hall. Her car was still in the garage, and Mike had said he’d drop her home, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Ethan had trusted her. It made her feel good...no, better than good. It had made her feel strong, as if his belief in her was worth more than anyone else’s. But he’d gone now.
Of course he had. If he hadn’t needed to go to the hospital, then he would have gone straight to Sam. They were priorities, and it would be unthinkable to expect anything different. And if she allowed herself to rely on him too much, then she would be just setting herself up for heartbreak.
She picked up her tea, wandering over to the empty mountain rescue tent. Sitting around drinking tea was all very well, but taking the tent down was the kind of problem she needed to distract her right now. At least that involved some possibility of success.
* * *
In the cramped space inside the ambulance, Ethan and John had managed to prevent their patient from bleeding out, or having a seizure, or a heart attack, or any one of a number of things that could have killed him before they reached the hospital.
Time had become an irrelevance, something that might be counted on a clock somewhere, but which didn’t matter. An hour or a minute. It didn’t make any difference as long as his patient was still alive and there was one more thing that he could do to k
eep him that way.
He’d made it to the resuscitation room. Then he’d made it past the concentrated activity which assessed his injuries and vital signs. He’d been stabilised, and Ethan had made the decision that he was ready for surgery. And then Ethan had finally looked at his watch.
He checked his phone and saw the text from his father, saying that Sam was all right. Then he spent ten minutes under the shower, knowing that he couldn’t speak to Sam just yet. In a moment he’d be able to be a father again, instead of a doctor whose one aim was to keep the patient under his care alive.
‘Hey, Sam. How are you doing?’
‘You made the man better, Dad?’