by Fiona Lowe
Except it was far from simple.
She’d noticed he’d recently been doing day trips to Burra and Mugur whenever it was possible and reducing the number of nights he was away. His razor and toothbrush were in her bathroom cabinet and she doubted he had many clothes left in his own wardrobe. He hadn’t slept at his place in weeks.
Not that she minded. She loved going to sleep in the security of his arms every night. He was the first person she thought of when she woke up and the last person she thought of when she closed her eyes at night.
I think it’s a shame you won’t rethink the marriage thing. His words unsettled her. Surely he wasn’t rethinking the idea of an affair, thinking about making it something more permanent?
You’re over thinking this. Just take it one day at a time.
Flynn slung his arm over her shoulder, drawing her closer. ‘You’re very quiet.’
She shuffled across the bench seat, her shoulder resting under his. ‘I’m just admiring the view.’
He glanced at her, slightly bemused. ‘It’s just scrub. We haven’t got to the coast yet.’
She rested her hand on his thigh. ‘I’m talking about you.’
Heat surged through him as his blood pounded faster. Her touch did that do him every, single time. He could never get enough of it.
She sighed. ‘I do enjoy North Point but do you know what I really miss?’
‘What?’
‘I miss strolling along the beach at sunset, trailing my feet through the water.’
He grimaced. ‘At the best of times it’s not safe but at this time of year the crocodiles are really territorial and will attack without warning. Plus they’re on the move too because the wet gives them a lot more waterways to traverse than the dry.’
She shivered. ‘Watching the sunset from the top of the cliff is just fine.’
He grinned. ‘I thought you’d agree with me.’ He took a left turn and slowed as he drove through a small community.
The road was raised over three huge drains that diverted a creek under the road. The coffee-brown, muddy, wet-season waters poured through the drains and back into the creek.
‘Oh, no, look at that.’ Mia pointed through the windscreen. The children of the community were using the drain overflow as a waterslide and diving pool. ‘Heaven knows what sort of diseases they’re going to pick up from that. Gastro at the very least.’
He braked and pulled over. ‘I’ll tell them to get out.’
Mia reached for the door handle and smiled. ‘I’ll do it. It’s your turn to give Joe a pit stop so he doesn’t soil his pouch.’
He laughed. ‘Fair enough.’
The squeals of delighted kids riding the natural waterslide drifted in the air as Mia walked over to them.
Flynn gently removed Joe from the pouch and squatted down over the red dirt and stimulated his cloacal area with a damp tissue.
Joe happily obliged and urinated and defecated neatly. Flynn gave him a quick rub behind the ears and returned him to the pouch, suspending him from the interior hook that hung from the handle over the door.
He heard Mia talking to the children, her voice cheerful and laughing.
Planning to head over to her, he walked around the back of the truck just as a child jumped from the road into the waterhole.
He shielded his eyes against the low sun and had taken three steps when he caught sight of a long, rough, olive coloured log sliding out of the large drain.
He started. That didn’t seem right. A log that size would surely have been caught and stuck further up in the drains. He did a double-take and caught the flash of yellow menacing eyes.
‘Crocodile,’ Flynn yelled as loudly as he could.
At the same moment Mia screamed. ‘Yirrikipayi! Get out of the water now!’
The children frantically scrambled up the muddy sides of the creek but one little girl froze, staring straight at the crocodile.
Flynn raced back to the truck, frantically fitting the key into the lock of the gun box. ‘Come on, open.’
Mia scooped up two discarded cans and threw them at the reptile.
The lock opened and Flynn grabbed the gun, and immediately started running back toward the creek.
The crocodile’s tail flicked slowly back and forth, its back humped and rising out of the water. One nostril flared.
Mia darted a quick look at Flynn as he approached. A look identical to the one she’d given him seconds before she’d thrown herself out of the truck and into the path of Joel and his gun. His inhaled breath stalled, trapped in his throat. He knew with horrendous clarity what she planned to do.
‘Mia, no!’
But his shouted plea did nothing and his heart threatened to stop.
She leapt into the water between the child and the beast, catching the child under the arms and throwing her to safety.
Mia’s rapid movements would provoke the crocodile to attack. Flynn raised his gun, he had to save her.
I love her.
He had to save the woman he loved as much as life itself. She had to live so he could tell her how much he loved her.
Breathing hard against his fear, he gripped the gun firmly, as much to steady it as to keep his hands from shaking. He lined up the sights, praying he could hit the beast and disorient it. Praying he would completely miss Mia.
He had to get this right.
The brown water suddenly churned white and the crocodile lunged just as Mia hurled herself sideways. Its jaw missed her torso, instead clamping down on her left arm. It immediately started to roll, intending to pull her down under the water and drown her.
Her scream of terror rent the air as she plunged her fingers into its eyes.
Now! Flynn pulled the trigger, aiming for the crocodile’s hips, the sound of the gun deafening but not loud enough to silence Mia’s scream.
The bullet hit its back and the crocodile thrashed, its jaw slackening.
Mia flung herself onto the bank, her arms and legs slipping in the mud as she struggled for purchase.
The reptile swam toward her and jumped for her legs.
Flynn aimed for its head and fired.
The bullet hit the side of the head and it fell back into the water with a loud splash, its three-metre length slowly sinking.
Thank you. Thank you. Relief poured through him but adrenaline kept him centred because the battle wasn’t over yet. Her arm looked like a mangled mess.
He ran to Mia, pulling her away from the creek bank, pulling her into his arms. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ His hands ran all over her, checking her, as if touching made him believe she was still alive.
Her shaking, wet body trembled in his arms and her head bobbed up and down, her teeth chattering so hard she couldn’t talk.
His palms cradled her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘Don’t ever do anything like that to me again, do you hear me?’ He kissed her forehead and held her tight. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you, Mia.’
Blank, sky-blue eyes stared up at him, devoid of emotion. Devoid of the vital life force he associated so much with Mia. Dread tore at him. He’d just rescued the woman he loved from the jaws of a crocodile, but for a split second he had an insidious feeling that the prehistoric beast wasn’t their biggest predator.
He pulled off his shirt, ripping it into long strips while he gave himself a shake, cross that he would listen to crazy intuition that was completely wrong. The look in her eyes was just shock. The same thing had happened after Joel.
People came running from everywhere, having heard the shots and the cries. Robbo’s police vehicle pulled up and the policeman jumped out.
‘I shot a three-metre salty, Robbo. You can charge me later. Check the kids and look after Joe for me. Right now I’ve got to get Mia to the clinic.’
The stunned policeman shook his head. ‘No charge, Flynn. Self-defence, mate. You look after Mia. I’ll look after this mob.’ He jerked his head to the gathering crowd.
Mia’s lacerated arm hung lim
ply by her side, bleeding and floppy, the humerus obviously broken. Flynn wrapped the cotton lengths firmly around the lacerated skin, creating a makeshift compression bandage. He was second-guessing the extent of the damage. He was certain of muscle and tendon injuries and there was a high chance the crocodile’s teeth could have punctured an artery or vein, causing internal bleeding.
Mia stayed silent, her eyes following his every move. With the last piece of his shirt he created a collar and cuff sling. ‘I’m taking you to the clinic now. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart.’
She nodded but remained silent, her expression vacant.
Fear clawed at him as he swung her into his arms, carrying her to the truck. Where was his vibrant Mia? It was like she’d disappeared and left a shell behind. He tucked a towel around her shivering body before closing the door and running around to the driver’s side, not wanting to leave her alone for a second.
She hadn’t spoken a word since the attack and he was frantic to examine her. Frantic to get her to Darwin and under the care of a plastic surgeon. With one hand holding her right hand and the other gripping the steering-wheel, he gunned the engine and sped down the gravel road.
*
Mia felt Flynn’s strong arms lifting her out of the truck. She let her head lie on his shoulder, feeling his heart beating under her chest, feeling his arms secure around her. Trying to focus on that and push away the image of jagged teeth and yellow eyes.
Flynn had saved her life.
Her wonderful crocodile hunter, the man she loved, had killed the prey that had threatened her. But he can’t kill the other prey.
She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t get her mouth to work. She felt like she was floating outside her body, watching the events around her. Her thoughts jumbled through her head, everything that had happened in the last half-hour a hazy and disconnected blur. Her arm throbbed with pain, which she welcomed because at least that meant some nerves were still attached.
‘Lie down.’ He laid her on the examination table and went to the top cupboard.
She struggled up onto her good elbow, finally finding her voice. ‘The saline’s in the lower cupboard and the antibiotics are—’
Flynn spun around, his face grim. ‘Lie down, Mia. You’re the patient, so behave,’ he growled as he grabbed the equipment he needed.
‘Will I lose my arm?’ She blurted out the words, half wanting to know, the other half of her preferring not to know.
‘Not if I can help it.’ He picked up the satellite phone, dialled a number and tucked it under his ear. ‘You’re going to Darwin for the best care possible. I want a plastic surgeon to operate.’
She bit her lip against her shaking, grateful for his care.
She listened to him order the air ambulance while he wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around her uninjured arm.
The phone call ended and he put the phone down next to her and pumped up the cuff. As he released the value his brow creased in concentration and concern. ‘One hundred on sixty.’
The image of horned eyebrows and a long snout thundered through her and paralysing fear gripped her. Think about now. Think about your treatment. ‘Perhaps it just broke my arm.’
‘Perhaps.’ He touched her hand. ‘It’s cool but that could be due to my pressure bandage.’ He slid the tourniquet up her arm and swabbed her hand. ‘As soon as I’ve put this IV in, I’m going to do an ultrasound to check your brachial artery. If there’s bleeding I’m going to have to do a fasciotomy to release the pressure.’
She nodded her understanding. She knew all the theory and she tried to focus on that. IV, ultrasound, evacuation, Theatre. She silently said the words over and over as she watched him guide the cannula into the back of her hand.
But snapshot images started exploding in her head. Colour images. Moving images. Images so real she was in them.
The little girl frozen with terror.
The crocodile’s hunched back. The intent in his unblinking eyes.
The crunching sound as its jaw snapped down hard on her arm.
Her throat closed, she couldn’t breathe. She hadn’t thought about herself, she’d just jumped to save the little girl who would have died instantly.
Impulse. Twice in four months she’d done something stupid and thoughtless. It was starting. The dementia that haunted her family was starting and she couldn’t ignore it any more.
She grabbed Flynn’s arm, staring up at him, panic tearing at her. ‘I couldn’t let her die.’ Words tumbled out over each other. ‘She’s too little to die. I’m going to die anyway but when the croc got me I didn’t want to die, but I will and I can’t stop it.’
Flynn’s startled expression soon changed to one of unflappable calm. He stroked her hair, his voice soothing. ‘You’re safe now, Mia, you’re not going to die. We’re going to save your arm and after a few days in hospital everything will be fine.’
Hysteria gripped her and tears cascaded down her cheeks. She shook her head, her voice rising. ‘No, you don’t understand. I’m going to die. I know I’m going to die.’
He pressed his lips against her forehead. ‘Shh, this is post-traumatic stress talking and I’m going to give you something to calm you down and make you sleep.’ He wiped her tears away with the soft pads of his thumb. ‘I didn’t save you so I could lose you. Everything is going to be all right. I promise that you and I are going to have a long life and grow old together.’
I didn’t save you so I could lose you.
Intense pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before dragged through her, hard, sharp and devastating. He loved her but she was lost to him already. She tried to speak but she couldn’t move air in or out of her chest.
She saw Flynn reach for the oxygen mask as blackness rolled in from the edges of her mind. Then his image faded as the darkness swamped her completely.
CHAPTER TEN
MIA squinted against the light that crept in though the slatted blinds, illuminating her eyelids and waking her up. She automatically tried to turn to check her bedside clock, wondering what time it was.
Red-hot pain seared her. She glanced to her left and saw her arm suspended in a sling, hanging from a pole next to the bed. The back of her right hand contained an intravenous drip, which was attached to a pump. Her mouth tasted of metal, her skin smelt of Betadine, her head felt fuzzy and her hair lay in clumps lank against the pillow.
Hospital.
She had no recollection of arriving. She didn’t remember much at all except being held in Flynn’s arms after the attack. She shuddered and immediately pushed the thoughts away. She didn’t want to relive yesterday at all.
‘You’re awake?’ Flynn’s warm lips caressed her cheek. ‘How are you feeling?’
The warmth in his voice and lips rolled through her and she reached up, touching his cheek, reassuring herself that he was real and she was fine. ‘Just peachy.’ Her voice croaked through her dry mouth. ‘Can I have drink, please?’
‘Sure.’ He poured water into a glass from a plastic jug and with a dextrous flick angled the straw. Then he gently eased her upward and pushed another pillow behind her back so she was half-reclined and handed her the glass, steadying the straw against her lips.
The water tasted cold and sweet and she gulped it down. ‘Thanks. You’d make a good nurse.’
He sat down on the bed facing her, his eye’s twinkling. ‘I learned from the best.’
Her lips curved upwards. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
He grinned. ‘That’s the plan.’
She wriggled her fingers of her left hand just to test they worked. Relief filled her. ‘I don’t really remember too much after you put me in the truck.’
Flynn picked up her uninjured hand, gently stroking her fingers. ‘After I got you back to the clinic you started to hyperventilate, which is pretty understandable after what you’d just been through. I gave you some diazepam to calm you down and that helped slow down your bleeding.’
�
�Sorry.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t remember flipping out.’
‘That’s OK. It’s all part of the job.’ His eyes stared into hers, their hazel depths brimming with care and affection. ‘The air ambulance arrived and you were pretty drowsy on the flight. Simon Peters, the plastic surgeon, met us in A and E and you went straight to Theatre.’
She stared up at her arm, which was swathed in layers and layers of white gauze bandage. She couldn’t remember anything about going to Theatre. ‘How’s my circulation?’
Flynn reached over and touched the fingers on her injured arm. ‘Toasty warm and pink, so I’d say your circulation is perfect.’ He pulled her chart off the end of the bed and passed it to her. ‘See for yourself.
‘The staff checked it all night and there haven’t been any concerns. Simon said the repair went well and he doesn’t anticipate any problems. You have about three hundred tiny stitches but no skin grafts were required.’
He pointed to the drug order. ‘The biggest worry is the risk of a Pseudomonas infection from the water or the teeth so you’re on strong antibiotics, which might make you feel a bit nauseous.’
Her stomach rolled. ‘I think that’s already happening.’
He tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘You might be hungry. It’s been a long time since you ate.’
She grimaced. ‘Oh, great, a week of hospital food. I can’t wait.’
‘Well, I’ve got some news that might make you smile.’ Again his gaze rested on hers, his eyes shining with a light she’d not seen before. It puzzled her because she thought she knew his every look and expression.
‘Simon is happy to discharge you into my care tomorrow morning. I’ve got us a suite at The Gardens, overlooking the harbour where we can spend the week before you have your post-op appointment with Simon in his rooms. You can relax, read and enjoy some pampering.’
His unexpected words stunned her. ‘But what about work? Kirra needs their doctor.’
He smiled down at her indulgently, as if she was an innocent child who didn’t understand how the world worked. ‘I’ve organised to take some annual leave and Northern Territory Health has sent in two relievers to cover for both of us.’
