Glasgow Grace (12 page)

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Skye nodded, barely managing to offer a smile. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

With his back to Skye, Dr. McGuire stood gazing out the window. She’d half expected him to be dressed in a white overcoat. Instead he wore a dark gray suit. He remained rooted when they entered.

Skye set her handbag down on a chair as his receptionist announced, “Miss Hunter.”

All he offered in return was, “Thank you, Linda.”

Linda turned and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind her.

That voice. But it couldn’t be. He turned and crossed the room before Skye’s brain could register that what she saw matched what she’d heard. “Callum? Wh-what are you doing here in Dr. Mc—”

He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, burying his head in her hair. He held her so tight she could barely breathe and released a sob. Then another.

“I-I don’t understand.” Why was he here? Dressed in a suit? She couldn’t believe he even owned one.

Drawing a deep breath, Callum loosened his grip and crooked a finger beneath her chin. He lifted her face and gazed down at her, his eyes still glistening. “I will get you through this. I promise. I’ll clear my calendar. We’ll schedule surgery right away.”

“Wha—wait. You’re Dr. McGuire? You’re not just coincidentally standing here in his office?”

Of course he wasn’t. Why had the thought even crossed her mind that he’d somehow heard and was there to console her, and that Dr. McGuire, the oncologist, would walk through the door any minute? Wasn’t she paying attention when his receptionist announced Skye’s arrival? Callum was Dr. McGuire.

Callum’s eyes searched hers, seemingly filled with regret. “I wanted to tell you, Skye, when the time was right.”

Skye stiffened. “When the time was right? How about the night we were reunited? When I spilled my guts about my life and waited for some indication as to what you’d done all these years. You never gave the slightest indication. Why?”

Lowering his gaze to the floor, Callum answered. “I…wanted to be sure that any feelings you had for me were because of who I was, not because of what I’d become.”

She blew out a huff. “You think that little of me that you’d believe I’d be so fickle, that it would matter to me whether you were a doctor or still working in your father’s pub, entertaining with your songs?”

“No. I-I needed to be sure that the years without your father’s influence regarding me hadn’t changed you. Please, Skye, try to understand. I would have told you soon enough.”

“I can’t believe you’d do something like this.” She tore herself from his embrace, snatched up her handbag from the chair and stumbled to the door. Air. She needed air. And space to think.

“Skye, don’t go. We need to talk about this. We need to agree on an urgent treatment plan. We need to discuss your options and the risks involved.”

Skye stopped at the door. She turned and narrowed her gaze. “No. We don’t need to do anything. I’ll figure this out on my own.” She slammed the office door on her way out, ignoring the wide-eyed look from Linda as she made a dash for the door and stepped into the passage.

Gasping for air, Skye ran down the long corridor, hot tears spilling over her cheeks. How could he exclude her from such an important part of his life? Could she ever trust him? Was he really the same man she’d known long ago? Yesterday she’d been so certain. Now?

Doubts overwhelmed her as the same two-lettered answer screamed to be heard.

No. No. No.

~*~

“Skye, wait!” Callum rushed for the closing door. It slammed in his face. He reached for the handle, but his hand wavered on the metal bar.
Let her go. You know where to find her. She needs time to process all that’s happened today.

Were those his thoughts or God’s caution? He released his hold and returned to the wall-mounted light box where he’d clipped the MRI images to the illuminated surface. Leaning against his desk, he studied the evidence, his mind tracing every step of the required surgery, over and over, making mental notes for Skye’s recovery and radiotherapy treatment. But what if he couldn’t convince her to stay in Scotland? What if she’d want to run home to her mother at this devastating news? She had to stay. No other doctor would give her the care that he would. Physically and emotionally.

Pressing his eyes closed with his index finger and thumb, he bowed his head.
Lord, don’t let this cancer have spread further. I beg you. Father, only You can convince Skye to allow me to do this. Help her accept all that lies ahead and the disappointment that her career is over, for now, at least. Comfort her, and let her sing again one day. I thank and praise You for bringing her back to me and preparing me all these years for this moment. You are Omniscient God. Thank you that the plans You have for us are always good, because You are good.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Callum pushed away. He had much to do, and little time in which to do it. He’d need to put a medical team together for her treatment—the best—and then he had to get to her hotel and make her stay with him, not only as her oncologist, but as the man who could never again imagine life without her.

He sank into his chair and picked up the phone. “Linda, clear all my appointments for the rest of the week. Then book blood tests, chest x-rays and an EKG for tomorrow morning for Miss Hunter, as well as an operating room on Monday for transoral laser surgery. After that, contact our radiographer and make an appointment for tomorrow morning for Miss Hunter to have a radiotherapy mask made. Before you do all that, first get Dr. Griffiths on the line.” The best Specialist Therapy Radiographer at Southern General Hospital, Callum needed him on board with Skye’s treatment.

“But, doctor—”

“No buts, Linda. Just do as I ask. Please.” He replaced the receiver, a little too hard. Closing his eyes, Callum inhaled and exhaled, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath. Poor woman was probably confused—Skye had barely crossed the threshold of his office before she hightailed it out of there, and here he was, seconds later, making arrangements for her cancer treatment as if they’d discussed it at length. He’d have to apologize to Linda. Later. He had to first ensure all arrangements were in place before he knocked on Skye’s door.

10

“Skye. Let me in. I’m not going away until you open up and listen to me. You can’t stay holed up in there forever. Remember, I’ve already spent two days this week waiting in this corridor—a few more won’t hurt at all.” One hour down, how many more to go?

“Leave me alone.”

Callum had forgotten how stubborn Skye could be. But he could be just as hardheaded. Especially now that he had an unlimited reserve of motivation. He knocked again. Sooner or later she would have to open. “Perhaps I should call your mother, get her to talk some sense into you.”

If Rita Robinson knew what was going on, she’d be on the first plane over—if she wasn’t already after hearing last night that he was back in Skye’s life.

Silence. Perhaps calling her mother was exactly what Skye wanted, but needed someone else to blame for the deed.

“You wouldn’t dare.” This time her voice was inches away. Callum pressed his ear up against the door. Soft sobs between her staccato breaths filtered through the wooden divide. An ache filled his chest.

“Let me in, and I promise I won’t.” He held his breath.
Open, Skye, before I run out of oxygen.
Moments later, the door clicked. He exhaled.
Thank you, Lord. A breakthrough.

Skye’s swollen eyes and red nose peered through the crack. She turned her face away as she opened the door fully.

Callum dropped his briefcase to the floor and reached for her, easing her face to meet his gaze. “Don’t…” he whispered. “Never be ashamed of your tears. They cleanse the soul.” He drew her in his arms and held her tight.

Her body shuddered as her tears soaked his suit. “Oh, Callum, I’m so afraid.”

He smoothed her hair and planted a kiss on her head. “I know you are, but you don’t need to be. I’m here, and I told you I would take care of you. Don’t you see? God has brought you here because He has equipped me to fix this—you just need to give me, and yourself, time.”

Skye pulled a fresh tissue from her cardigan’s pocket and blew her nose before drying her face with the edge of her sleeve. She looked a mess. A beautiful mess. His heart swelled with love. “Let me make you a cup of tea. Then we need to talk.”

With the slightest nod, Skye slipped from his arms and turned.

Callum grabbed his briefcase and followed her inside. Setting it down beside the desk, he took off his coat and threw it onto the bed before switching on the kettle. He smiled as he spotted the flavored teabags. “Perhaps chamomile tea would be better? It’s calming.”

When Skye didn’t protest, Callum tore open the paper wrapping with its cheery daisy picture on the front. The packaging was enough to lift one’s spirits. He opened another. He could do with some calming himself. Would she say yes to the treatment plan he’d propose? His pulse raced at the thought of his second proposal. What would she think of the idea? That he was impulsive, crazy? Or would she believe the action was way overdue, as he did? He had deliberated the matter the entire afternoon, and nothing felt more right. There was no time to waste, on either matter.

He lifted the scalding kettle and filled the cups. Dangling the teabags in the boiling water, he glanced around at Skye. She stood beside the window, gazing out. On the wingback chair beside her lay his gifts, still waiting to be unwrapped. He hadn’t asked about them last night—they’d had far better things to do. But tonight, he just may. She could do with a little something to sweeten her life right now.

He cleared his throat. “I never got a chance to thank you for my gift. It’s great. Smells good, too. Soothing. Takes me back to our walks across Bell’s Bridge.”

Skye turned and looked at Callum, mustering a smile. “I’m glad.”

“I lit that candle before climbing into bed this weekend and prayed that God would bring you back to me. I believe He answered my prayers.” Removing the teabags, Callum handed a cup to Skye.

She wrapped her fingers around the white porcelain.

Callum breathed in deep. “I see you haven’t opened my gifts yet.”

She shook her head. “I-I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just haven’t had a chance.”

“That’s OK. Perhaps later?”

“Perhaps.”

“Let’s sit down.” Two wingback chairs stood side by side in the corner of the room, a rectangular coffee table filling the space in front of them. He set his cup on the table and moved the gifts, placing them to one side of his cup. He motioned for Skye to sit down and fetched his briefcase. For several minutes, they sat in silence, sipping tea. When he’d finished, Callum placed his cup back on the table.

Skye clung to hers, running a finger around the rim. “Tell me what you would’ve told me earlier today in your rooms…before I so foolishly bolted.” She swallowed the last of her tea.

Thank you, Lord.

“Before I do, please know that I never meant to hurt you. I love you too much to ever cause you pain. You have to know that.”

“I-I wish you would’ve trusted me…trusted what we’d always had together.”

“I know. I wish I had, too.” He reached over and rubbed her forearm, tilting his head. “Forgive me?”

She touched his hand. Twining her fingers between his, she brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against his skin. “Yes.”

“Skye, do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Are you certain? You seemed unsure earlier.”

“I was…shocked and confused.”

“You’ve had a lot to process today.” Callum withdrew his hand. Taking her cup, he set it down next to his before bending over and unlatching his briefcase. He pulled out the envelope with her scans. “Will you trust me to make you well?”

A smile touched her lips. “I believe I can’t get any better than you, Dr. McGuire. So I’m told.”

All right!

Callum held up the first scan to the light—a skeletal profile of Skye’s head and neck—and pointed to the white bean-shaped spot above the trachea. “You see this here? That’s what we need to remove, as soon as possible. I believe Dr. Webber already told you the tumor’s on your vocal cord. That’s why I don’t want to wait to operate.”

“C-could I lose my voice?”

“Not if I have anything to do with your surgery and treatment. This world would be a poorer place without your sweet sound.”

“Will I still be able to sing?”

“In time.”
Lord, help me keep my word. I’ll do what I can. Please, will You do the rest?

“Will I be scarred?”

“No. I’ll perform transoral laser surgery. It’s less invasive than open surgery.”

Skye bit on her lip, remaining silent for a while. He’d give her the time she needed to process every new thing he told her. This had to be frightening for her.

“W-what do you do?”

“I pass a surgical camera and microscope through your mouth. The laser is directed to the tumor. This way we avoid any chance of facial disfigurement, as well as a tracheostomy. I believe it’s your best option.”

Skye stared across the room before turning to him. “So, when can you do the surgery?”

Thank you, God.
“I’ve already scheduled it for Monday.”

“Have you now?” How beautiful the smile that brightened her face.

“Aye.”

“You were that certain you’d convince me to let you do the surgery?”

“No. God promised to do that. I know my limits. I learned a long time ago that you’re not a woman who’s easily swayed.”

Skye tipped her head back and laughed, wiping away her tears.

Callum’s chuckles joined hers, making music together in the air. This was exactly what she needed. Laughter. Medicine for the soul. He’d not spoil the moment by showing her more scans. She got the picture. The tumor was there, and it needed to come out. He’d discuss all the pre-op tests in-depth with her later, and the weeks of radiotherapy required. Right now, there was something even more important he wanted to talk to her about.

He gathered the scans and returned them to the envelope before placing it back in his briefcase. He lifted the first gift from the table and handed it to Skye. “It’s time you opened these.”