Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh Read online

  ‘I’ll stay a little longer,’ she said.

  What had he said or done to make her so suspicious? Kam wondered as he made his way towards the clinic tent, intending to check on Akbar before going for his dinner. People were moving about the camp in the dusk, gowned figures flitting here and there, and he realised how easy it would be for the warring tribes to have spies here.

  Though spying on what? What more could be taken from these poor, stateless people?

  ‘I am here to see how things are running and what the needs are,’ he told Jenny, meeting up with her later in the food tent. ‘From both a government angle and as far as Aid for All is concerned. I’m here to see what’s being done and what more needs to be done.’

  He spoke flatly. The idea that she might not trust him had upset him more than it should have, and Akbar’s condition made things worse as the man refused to speak to anyone, refused to eat or drink, and when he had felt strong enough to sit up, he’d begun picking out the stitches on his chest and legs, cutting through the sutures with a rusty razor-blade a friend must have provided for him. Kam had considered taking the razor blade off him, but knew Akbar would then tear the stitches out and create far worse wounds.

  Did Jenny know this that she was so intent on getting the boy back?

  He didn’t like to ask in case she didn’t know—finding out would make her more upset.

  So he sat and ate, waiting to see if she would respond to his explanation or perhaps tell him why she doubted him.

  ‘So, I know you would only get a very general idea of how things are from one walk through the camp, but what did you find today?’

  Was she testing him?

  Kam couldn’t tell, for her head was bent and her face in shadow.

  ‘Jenny.’ He said her name, but quietly, then waited until she did look up, her eyes dark in the shadowy tent, the pale oval of her face framed by the dark scarf. ‘You can trust me,’ he said, ‘in every way. The fate of these people as well as their comfort and health and welfare is as important to me as it is to you. Do you believe me?’

  She studied him, tilting her head to one side as if that might give her a different perspective, but it was his motives, not his looks, she had to be considering.

  ‘I would like to,’ she said, ‘because these people are so vulnerable.’

  She put down her dish and held out her hands in a helpless kind of gesture.

  ‘And even if you are some kind of spy, what can I do? I can ask you to have compassion in your heart. To see their plight and maybe report on it, but not make things worse for them. I could beg, I suppose, trade kisses that would have no meaning, but in the end it is between you and your conscience what you do.’

  The trade-kisses part made Kam’s heart race, but only until he realised just how demeaning a suggestion it had been, especially coming after the kisses they’d shared not long ago—kisses of passion and desire, he’d thought.

  But he’d asked for it, daring her to trade a kiss last night, but now he hurt for her that she felt such doubt, yet he couldn’t make things right.

  Not yet!

  Except as far as kisses went. He could sort that out.

  ‘Your kisses are too valuable for any currency but love,’ he said. ‘What we shared this evening grew from attraction and perhaps a little from pain. I doubt you can deny the attraction, Jenny, and I certainly can’t. But…’

  She half smiled at him.

  ‘There’s always a but, isn’t there?’ she said, so much sadness and regret in her voice he wanted to hold her again—kiss her again.

  Instead, he nodded.

  ‘Yes, there’s always a but,’ he agreed. ‘Another time, another place, we might have met and kissed and enjoyed the attraction that has sparked between us, but suspicion is a bad basis for such things, and right now my life is bounded by demands I can’t explain. Right now, seizing the moment and enjoying the attraction would be all that could happen between us, and I doubt that, even without the suspicion, you would enjoy such a relationship.’

  Jen sighed as the words ran through her mind, then ran through again—poetic words, and things he couldn’t explain.

  ‘So I remain suspicious and kisses are forbidden,’ she said, speaking quietly, half-teasing, although the other half was sadness.

  Then Kam smiled and she felt the flare of heat again.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know that we can’t kiss again,’ he murmured. ‘As long as we both understand that’s all they are. Just kisses, not currency, or promises…’

  Just kisses?

  The flare of heat spread through Jenny’s body, sending tingling messages along her nerves.

  Would it hurt?

  Harm anyone?

  ‘Just kisses?’ she repeated, and saw him glance at his watch.

  ‘We should check Akbar first, then perhaps a walk along the edge of the plateau? The moon should be full enough to light our way.’

  The tingling messages turned to shivers of apprehension, but Jen knew she’d nod agreement. That she could still feel longing and desire had been a revelation, like a rebirth almost, so surely it would do no harm to see where such a rebirth would lead.

  Where moonlit kisses would lead…

  CHAPTER SIX

  THEY walked back to the clinic tent together, saying nothing more about the proposed meeting, although to Jen the anticipation seemed to spark in the air around them.

  Kam knelt by Akbar, who appeared to be sleeping, perhaps trying to persuade Lia to get some sleep as well. Jen went on into her private corner, thankful she’d got through all the slides and medication lists during the day so there was no work awaiting her.

  She wanted desperately to wash and change into something prettier than jeans and shirt and a long grey tunic. But that would look stupid, as if she was going on a date…

  Changing clothes would look stupid?

  What on earth was she thinking?

  What could be more stupid than walking in the moonlight and trading kisses with a man who’d already said quite clearly he wasn’t interested in her? A man who hadn’t denied he might be a spy? Was she nuts? Of course she couldn’t do it!

  She undid her braid and brushed her hair before pinning it into a loose knot on top of her head and was about to strip off her working clothes when a commotion outside led her back into the main part of the tent.

  Three of the small boys she knew were standing in the doorway next to a man in a black robe so old the fabric looked rusty. He had a black scarf rolled into a rope and wound around his head so only his eyes and his lips were visible.

  He spoke and Kam moved so swiftly, grabbing the man’s arm and hurrying him further out of the tent, that Jen felt a flash of fear. Was the man a messenger for Kam? Did this prove he was a spy?

  Jen followed—after all, this was her clinic, not his.

  As she came out of the tent the man gesticulated towards her and spoke again, Kam slamming words at him, obviously not agreeing, but the man kept pointing at Jenny.

  ‘Go back inside,’ Kam ordered, sounding so furious Jen almost obeyed, but somehow she was caught up in this, and, with the unease of distrust between them, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘What are they saying?’ she asked the boys, wide-eyed onlookers to the confrontation. She knew they didn’t speak much English but they were picking up more each day.

  ‘That man wants you to go with him to the chief because chief’s wife having baby.’

  The child who had explained this pointed to the stranger.

  ‘Go where? What chief?’ Jen asked, and Kam shot some kind of command at the boys which not only silenced them but made them step back into the shadows.

  ‘Then you tell me what’s happening,’ Jen demanded of Kam. ‘And tell me the truth—no lies or evasions, thank you!’

  He looked at her and shook his head.

  ‘You should have stayed inside,’ he muttered, and she threw him a furious glare which he obviously understood because he then explained.<
br />
  ‘The wife of the leader of one of the warring tribes, the one who has taken over the village where most of the refugees lived, has been in labour eighteen hours. The woman who acts as midwife has told the chief the baby won’t come out. He wants you there to help. I imagine he knows about Caesareans and assumes you can do one. I have been trying to tell him I can do one, but he—’

  ‘The chief doesn’t want a man touching his wife,’ Jen finished for him.

  Kam gave a grim nod, though he did add, ‘And if you hadn’t come out of the tent I could have told him you were away and I’d have to go.’

  ‘What nonsense,’ Jen said. ‘These people aren’t barbarians.’

  Images of Akbar’s flayed and battered body flashed before her eyes, and after them images of Akbar’s acute distress.

  ‘But it’s perfect,’ Jen said, suddenly excited. ‘Tell him I’ll come but only on condition we bring back Akbar’s son as payment.’

  ‘You can’t make conditions with these people,’ Kam protested. ‘You don’t even know if you’ll come back yourself.’

  ‘If we make a pact they’ll honour it—I’ve been here long enough to know that honour exists among the tribes. Once someone’s word is given, it is kept.’

  Kam gave her one last frown then turned and spoke to the messenger, whose dark eyes flashed between Kam and Jenny as Kam was speaking.

  ‘I’ll pack a bag with what I might need,’ Jenny said, and slipped inside the tent, stopping beside Lia to ask if she had a photo of Hamid. Lia’s English wasn’t good but eventually she reached into the folds of her gown and produced a small picture of a little boy, then a picture of the three of them, parents and child, both pictures worn and grey, as if looking at them had drained them of their shininess.

  Jen slipped them both into her bag, found a warm scarf to wrap around her head and shoulders. Would they be walking or driving? Please, don’t let it be riding on a camel—she found the favoured beasts unstable to say the least.

  Outside, Kam and the stranger were still arguing, and as she appeared the stranger stepped forward and grabbed her arm, using one English word. ‘Come.’

  Jen pulled away from him, taking a step backwards, although she knew she couldn’t waste too much time as the lives of both the mother and the unborn infant could be in danger.

  ‘Has he agreed?’ she asked Kam, who shook his head.

  Time for bluff.

  ‘Then I don’t go!’ she said, and turned to walk back inside the tent.

  ‘Come!’ the man repeated, but it wasn’t the order made her turn but Kam’s quick gasp.

  The man had produced a long and very dangerous-looking rifle from beneath his robes and was now pointing it at her.

  She took a deep breath and remained right where she was, staring defiantly into the dark slit where his eyes were.

  ‘Tell him if he shoots me, the woman and the child will die and his leader will be very angry with him.’

  Kam said something, and Jen had to assume he was translating what she’d said. Slowly the stranger lowered the rifle until it was pointing at the ground.

  Kam spoke to him again, and this time he nodded.

  ‘OK,’ Kam said, grabbing Jenny almost roughly by the arm, ‘you’ve got your agreement, although that was the most damn stupid thing I’ve ever seen anyone do. What if he’d shot you?’

  She turned and smiled at him, although the smile was to hide the fact her lips were probably trembling—every other bit of her was. She’d never been so terrified in her life but she’d known she had to hide it—to show strength and determination in front of the man with the gun.

  Kam walked with her as she followed the dark-gowned figure through the camp, aware of whispering as they passed and hisses of fear or disgust rising into the night air.

  ‘If I’m not back tomorrow, you’ll have to carry on the testing,’ she said to Kam. ‘The girls know the system, it’s just the slides you have to check and compare to the others.’

  ‘If you’re not back tomorrow, I won’t be either,’ he said. ‘Surely you didn’t think I’d let you go alone?’

  She wanted to stop right there and argue with him, but the black-robed man was striding on ahead and she wasn’t sure just how badly off the pregnant woman might be, so she kept walking, berating Kam as she went.

  ‘You can’t come with me—that’s just stupid. What happens if they keep us both—what will happen to the clinic with no doctor? Besides, I thought the man said he didn’t want you.’

  ‘He didn’t want me as a doctor but I told him you don’t speak the language and I would need to be there to explain to the chief exactly what was happening with his wife. I did rather emphasise the fact that the chief would be extremely worried if he didn’t know what was going on and if you couldn’t ask him for permission to do an operation. I added a bit of medical drama to make a Caesar seem a bit worse than it is, and our friend up ahead was probably turning green under his turban and decided better me than him telling that kind of stuff to the chief.’

  ‘It’s still stupid!’ Jen muttered, not willing to admit she felt far braver about this adventure now she knew Kam was coming, although a little sick in her stomach when she thought of something happening to him.

  These were the people who had beaten up Akbar.

  They had reached the outer limits of the camp and to her relief she saw a battered vehicle standing beyond the loose wire boundary. No camels!

  ‘Make sure he understands we want safe passage back here and we want the boy,’ Jen said to Kam before agreeing to climb in.

  Kam spoke and the man held up his hand as if giving some kind of oath then hustled them both into the car and took off, speeding through the moonlit night. If they were on a road, it wasn’t discernible to Jen, but she was in the back seat so maybe Kam could see it from the front. Not that the man seemed to need a road. The vehicle was twisting and turning around the dunes, heading around the base of the mountains before beginning to climb.

  ‘I know this place,’ Kam said. ‘As a child I was sometimes brought here to these mountains. I think there’s a way across them back to our camp, a track Akbar probably took, maybe ten miles long, from memory.’

  The driver said something to him, the voice indicative of an order, and Kam shrugged his shoulders but stopped talking.

  Ten miles wasn’t far to walk, Jen decided, if they had to make their own way back to the camp. Though over the mountains? From the camp side the mountains looked steep and not at all user-friendly, but if there was a track…

  An hour into their journey the driver slowed, and ahead Jenny could see lights.

  So this was the village where most of their refugees had lived. The houses up ahead had been their homes, the gentle mountain slopes their grazing land. By moonlight it was a pretty place, the houses built of stone or mortar mixed from sand hard up against the cliffs.

  But there were tents here, too, the black Bedouin tents she now knew so well, and it was outside one of these their driver stopped.

  Fear caught at Jenny’s throat and she breathed deeply. For all they were at war and had driven the refugees out, she reminded herself, they were honourable people in their own way.

  Their guide barked an order at Kam, who got out and opened the back door for Jenny, giving her shoulder a little squeeze and keeping close to her as they moved towards the open doorway of the big tent. That hand on her shoulder and the closeness of his body rebuilt her strength, and she wondered that she could feel such trust in a man she’d doubted.

  But at the doorway another man held up his hand, barring Kam’s way and speaking so quickly Jen knew Kam’s knowledge of the language must be good for him to follow it.

  ‘This is the women’s tent,’ he said to Jenny, this time taking her hand while he spoke. Guessing she was fearful and in need of support? ‘Our friend and I will not be allowed in, but the chief is just outside around the back. We will go and talk to him, then I will talk to you through the walls. You’ll be all
right?’

  He squeezed her fingers gently and his eyes scanned her face, but she couldn’t let him know how apprehensive she was feeling. She nodded, then, hearing a cry of pain from within, quickly broke away, although she turned back at the last moment, fishing the two photos from her pocket.

  ‘Hamid,’ she said. ‘Make them give you Hamid. He must be with you or I won’t help the woman.’

  Jen knew she was bluffing, and she was reasonably sure that Kam also knew she was bluffing, but would the chief know?

  That was the risk they had to take.

  A woman took Jenny’s hand and led her deep into the tent, where a lamp lit up a scene that could have been repeated in tents all over the Arabian Peninsula down through thousands of years. A young woman, bundled in clothes, lay on a pile of mats and a palliasse in the middle of the tent, other women kneeling and sitting cross-legged around her, one bathing her face, others holding her hands, all of them talking in their sing-song voices very quietly and, Jen guessed, encouragingly.

  The girl herself—and she was only a girl—was extraordinarily attractive, even though her face was grey with fatigue and almost black circles lay beneath her huge dark eyes.

  And those eyes held fear—Jen could see it. She knelt beside the girl and took her hands, talking to her, saying words she wouldn’t understand but hoping her tone might convey reassurance.

  ‘I’m going to examine her now. I’d like to remove some of the clothes she’s wearing so I can palpate her abdomen at the next contraction and I’d like someone to tell me exactly what’s happened so far.’

  Jen spoke loudly, hoping Kam was outside the right part of the tent, then she heard his voice, talking quietly but quite audibly, and one of the women, talking all the time, began to pull the blankets off the girl, finally revealing her swollen belly.

  ‘The woman says the contractions grew weaker and weaker. She is obviously an experienced midwife and she says she could poke her finger quite deeply into the patient’s belly during a contraction at the end,’ Kam translated, while the woman who had spoken demonstrated this for Jenny then held her fingers apart to show how far the cervix had dilated.