Wedding at Sunday Creek

by Leah Martyn

  ‘So he’s been hospitalised all this week?’

  ‘It seemed the best and safest option. I’m still getting my head around the distances folk have to travel out here. If I’d released him too early and he’d had a relapse and had to come back in—’

  ‘So you erred on the side of caution. I’d have done the same. Where was he bitten?’

  ‘On the calf muscle. Fortunately, he was near enough to the homestead to be found fairly quickly and he didn’t panic. His parents were able to bring him straight in to the hospital.’

  ‘You don’t think he could possibly be suffering from some kind of PTSD?’

  Darcie looked sceptical. ‘That’s a bit improbable, isn’t it?’

  ‘It can happen as a result of dog bites and shark attacks. How’s he been sleeping?’

  ‘Not all that well, actually. But I put it down to the strangeness of being in hospital for the first time.’

  ‘Well, that’s probably true. But there could be another reason why he’s clammed up.’ Jack’s lips tweaked to a one-cornered grin. ‘He’s sixteen, Darcie. His testosterone has to be all over the place.’

  Darcie’s chin came up defensively. Same old sexist rubbish. ‘Are you saying he’s embarrassed around a female doctor? I was totally professional.’

  ‘I’m sure you were.’

  She swept a strand of hair behind her ear in agitation. ‘Perhaps I should try talking to him again.’

  ‘Why don’t you let me?’

  ‘You?’

  ‘I’m on staff now,’ he reminded her. ‘And your Mitchell may just open up to another male. That’s if you’re agreeable?’

  Darcie felt put on the spot. He’d given her the choice and she didn’t want to be offside with him and appear pedantic. And he was, after all, the senior doctor here. ‘Fine. Let’s do it.’

  Jack gave a nod of approval. ‘Here’s how we’ll handle it, then.’

  * * *

  Mitchell was the only patient in the three-bed unit. Clad in sleep shorts and T-shirt, he was obviously bored, his gaze only intermittently on the television screen in front of him.

  Following Jack’s advice, Darcie went forward. ‘Hi, there, Mitchell.’ Her greeting was low-key and cheerful. ‘Just doing a final round.’

  Colour stained the youth’s face and he kept his gaze determinedly on the TV screen.

  ‘This is Dr Cassidy.’ Darcie whipped the blood-pressure cuff around the boy’s arm and began to pump. ‘He’s going to be spending some time with us here in Sunday Creek.’

  ‘Dr Drummond tells me you crash-tackled a snake recently, Mitch.’ Casually, Jack parked himself on the end of the youngster’s bed. ‘What kind was it?’

  The boy looked up sharply. ‘A western brown. They’re deadly.’

  ‘They’re different from an ordinary brown, then?’

  Almost holding her breath, Darcie watched her young patient make faltering eye contact with Jack. ‘The western is more highly coloured.’

  Jack flicked a questioning hand. ‘How’s that?’

  ‘These guys aren’t brown at all,’ Mitchell said knowledgeably. ‘They’re black with a really pale head and neck. They’re evil-looking. The guy that got me was about a metre and a half long.’

  ‘Hell’s teeth...’ Jack grimaced. ‘That’s about five feet.’

  ‘Yeah, probably. I almost peed in my pants.’

  ‘Well, lucky you didn’t do that.’ Jack’s grin was slow and filled with male bonding. ‘I heard you kept your cool pretty well.’

  Mitch lifted a shoulder dismissively. ‘Out here, you have to learn to take care of yourself from when you’re a kid. Otherwise you’re dead meat.’

  Over their young patient’s head, the doctors exchanged a guarded look. This response was just what they’d hoped for. And it seemed that once started, Mitch couldn’t stop. Aided by Jack’s subtle prompting, he relaxed like a coiled spring unwinding as he continued to regale them with what had happened.

  Finally Jack flicked a glance at his watch. ‘So, it’s home tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Mitch’s smile flashed briefly.

  ‘What time are your parents coming, Mitchell?’ Darcie clipped the medical chart back on the end of the bed.

  ‘About ten. Uh—thanks for looking after me.’ He rushed the words out, his gaze catching Darcie’s for the briefest second before he dipped his head in embarrassment.

  ‘You’re welcome, Mitch.’ Darcie sent him a warm smile. ‘And better wear long trousers out in the paddocks from now on, hmm?’

  ‘And don’t go hassling any more snakes,’ Jack joked, pulling himself unhurriedly upright. ‘Stay cool, champ.’ He butted the kid’s fist with his own.

  ‘No worries, Doc. See ya.’

  ‘You bet.’ Jack raised a one-fingered salute.

  * * *

  ‘Thanks,’ Darcie said when they were out in corridor. ‘You were right,’ she added magnanimously.

  ‘It’s what’s called getting a second opinion,’ Jack deflected quietly. ‘I imagine they’re a bit thin on the ground out here.’

  ‘Awful to think I could have sent him home still all screwed up.’

  ‘Let it go now.’ Jack’s tone was softly insistent. ‘You’ve done a fine job. Physically, your patient is well again. He’s young and resilient. He’d have sorted himself out—probably talked to his dad or a mate.’

  She gave an off-centre smile. ‘And we can’t second-guess everything we do in medicine, can we?’

  ‘Hell, no!’ Jack pretended to shudder. ‘If we did that, we’d all be barking mad. Now, do you need to check on any more patients?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m only next door anyway if there’s a problem.’

  ‘Good.’ In a faintly weary gesture he lifted his hands, running his fingers around his eye sockets and down over the roughness of new beard along his jaw. ‘So, we can call it a day, then? I need a shower, a shave and a cold beer, in that order.’

  ‘Oh, of course. I should have realised...’ Darcie forced herself to take a dispassionate look at him. There was no mistaking the faint shadows beneath his eyes.

  A sliver of raw awareness startled her. The fact that suddenly she wanted to reach up and smooth away those shadows, slowly and gently, startled her even more. Especially when she reminded herself that, for lots of reasons, her trust in men was still borderline.

  * * *

  The staff residence was next door to the hospital with a vacant block in between. Like the hospital, it was of weathered timber with wide verandas positioned to catch the morning sun and to offer shade during the hot summers.

  ‘Here we are.’ Darcie opened the gate and they went in, the heady scent of jasmine following them up the front path.

  ‘Hello, who’s this?’ Jack asked, as a blue heeler cattle dog roused himself from under the steps and slowly came to meet them.

  Darcie dimpled a smile. ‘That’s Capone.’

  ‘Because...?’ Jack bent and stroked the dog between his ears.

  ‘He seems to get away with everything.’

  Jack chuckled. ‘Is that so, chum?’ The dog’s black button eyes looked back innocently. ‘He’s quite old, then?’ Jack had seen the sprinkling of white hair mottling the dog’s blue-grey coat. He went on stroking. ‘What’s his story?’

  ‘Apparently, he belonged to one of the old-timers of the district.’ Darcie recounted the information as she’d heard it. ‘He died here at the hospital and his dog wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t eat and just hung around.’

  ‘So the staff adopted him?’

  ‘Something like that. Naturally, he couldn’t be kept at the hospital so gradually they coaxed him over here and he’s seems content enough to stay.’

  ‘You’re a great old boy, aren’t you?’
Jack gave a couple of hollow thumps to the bony ridge of the dog’s shoulders. He was a sucker for cattle dogs. They’d had some beauties on the farm when he’d been growing up.

  ‘Well, he seems to have taken to you.’

  ‘Seems to.’ Jack’s expression softened for a moment.

  Darcie took a shallow breath, all her nerve ends twanging. What a very compelling picture they made—a big man and his dog... She beat back the sudden urge to reach for her phone and take a picture. How absurd. How sentimental. Shooting her sensible thoughts back in place, she said briskly, ‘Let’s go in, shall we?

  ‘There are six bedrooms, all quite large,’ Darcie said as they made their along the wide hallway. ‘Our funding allows for some domestic help. Meg McLeish keeps everything ticking over. She’s a real gem.’

  Jack managed a polite, ‘Mmm.’ He didn’t need this kind of detail but it was a female thing. He got that.

  ‘You should be comfortable in here.’ Darcie opened the door on the freshness of lemon-scented furniture polish.

  Jack’s gaze tracked over the room, taking in the king-sized bed, fitted wardrobes and bedside tables. ‘This is great, Darcie. Thanks. I’ll manage from here.’

  Darcie took a step back. Was he was trying to get rid of her? Tough. She hadn’t finished. ‘There’s a linen cupboard at the end of the hall where you’ll find sheets and towels. Sorry there’s no en suite bathroom. I think the place was built long before they were in vogue. But there are two bathrooms for communal use.’

  Jack plonked himself on the edge of the bed. ‘Darcie—’ he held down the thread of impatience ‘—it’s all fine, thank you.’

  ‘OK...’ Her teeth bit softly into her bottom lip. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

  He looked up sharply with a frown. Had he offended her somehow? She’d tilted her chin in a gesture he was beginning to recognise. He pulled himself upright again. ‘I’ll just get cleaned up.’ His mouth tweaked into a wry grin. ‘I promise I’ll be more sociable then.’

  ‘Fine.’ Darcie spread her hands in quick acceptance and began backing away. ‘Come out to the kitchen when you’re through and I’ll find you that cold beer.’

  * * *

  Barely twenty minutes later Jack joined Darcie in the kitchen. She turned from the window. ‘You were quick.’ Her eyes flicked over him. Cleaned up and dressed in jeans and a pinstriped cotton shirt, he looked...well, more like a senior doctor should look, she concluded a bit primly. Crossing to the fridge, she took out a beer from a six-pack and handed it to him. ‘You Aussies seem a bit territorial about your brands. I hope you like this one.’

  Jack barely noticed the label and twisting open the top he took a long pull. ‘Right at this moment I’d settle for any brand as long as it was cold.’ He hooked out a chair. ‘Are you joining me?’

  She gave a stilted smile. ‘I have a glass of wine here.’

  ‘What do we do about meals?’ Jack indicated she should sit at the table with him.

  ‘At the moment there’s just Lauren and me.’ Darcie met his questioning look neutrally. ‘So it’s all been a bit haphazard, depending what shifts she’s on. We tend to just grab something from the hospital kitchen. But now you’re here, perhaps we should get a better system going. Do a regular shop.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ He rolled back his shoulders and stretched. ‘What about right now? I’m starved. What can the fridge yield up?’

  ‘There’s some watermelon and fudge,’ Darcie deadpanned.

  ‘OK,’ Jack said with studied calm. ‘I see you’ve covered all the essential food groups.’

  Her spontaneous laugh rippled out, the action bringing her whole face into vivid life.

  Instinctively, Jack swayed forward, staring at the sweet curve of her laughing mouth. And feeling something else. Oh, good grief. Instantly, he took control of his wild thoughts, anchoring his feet more firmly under the table.

  Darcie tilted her head to one side. ‘If we’d known you were coming—’

  ‘You’d have baked a cake,’ Jack rejoined, sitting up straighter.

  ‘Or cooked a roast.’

  He chuckled. ‘So, you’re telling me there’s nothing in the fridge we can make a meal with. No leftovers?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘A remnant of cheese? A couple of lonely eggs?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What about the pub, then? Food OK?’

  ‘Pretty good. And it’s steak night, if that’s what you want to hear.’

  ‘Excellent.’ He downed the last of the beer and got to his feet. ‘Let’s go, then, Dr Drummond. I’m shouting dinner.’

  ‘We’ll take my vehicle,’ Darcie said. ‘It’s a bit of a step up to the town centre.’

  ‘What do I do about getting a vehicle?’ Jack asked as they walked over to her car.

  ‘The local Rotary Club bought a new Land Rover for the MD’s use. It’s presently garaged at the hospital. OK if we sort all that tomorrow?’

  ‘Yup.’ Jack opened the car door, sat down and leaned back against the headrest, deciding any further conversation about the practice could wait.

  * * *

  It was a typical country pub, Jack observed, with a bar, a billiard table and a scattering of tables and chairs.

  ‘There’s a beer garden through there.’ Darcie indicated the softly lit outdoor area. ‘We just have to order at the bar first.’

  ‘So, what would you like to eat?’ He guided her to the blackboard menu. ‘Uh—big choice, I see,’ he said dryly. ‘Steak and vegetables or steak and chips and salad.’

  ‘I’ll have the steak and salad,’ Darcie said. ‘No chips.’

  ‘You don’t like chips?’ Jack pretended outrage.

  ‘I like chips,’ she responded, ‘just not with everything.’

  They ordered and were told there might be a bit of a wait. ‘Let’s have a drink, then,’ Jack said. ‘Another wine?’

  She shook her head. ‘Mineral water, I think.’

  ‘OK. Me as well. I don’t want to fall asleep.’

  Darcie sent him a cool look. Nice to know he found her conversation so scintillating. Being Friday evening, the beer garden was crowded. ‘Most folk are friendly here,’ she said, returning greetings from several of the locals.

  ‘And you’ve made friends since you’ve been here?’ Jack asked as they made their way to a vacant table.

  ‘It’s been good,’ she evaded lightly. ‘You’re getting well looked over,’ she added, taking the chair he held for her.

  ‘I’d better behave myself, then.’

  ‘Will that be difficult?’

  ‘I’m not given to dancing on tables, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  Darcie propped her chin on her upturned hand. ‘I’ve never actually seen anyone do that.’

  ‘I tried it once.’

  ‘Were you drunk?’

  ‘Are you shocked?’ Jack’s teasing smile warmed the space between them. ‘Final interviews were over and I knew they’d offer me a place on the surgical training programme.’

  She raised an eyebrow. Oh, to have such confidence. But, then, she reasoned, Jack Cassidy seemed to be brimming with it. She took a deep breath and decided to find out more about this man who had literally dropped out of the sky and was now to all intents and purposes her boss. ‘So—where have you come from today?’

  His mouth tipped at the corner. ‘You mean by the way I was dressed?’

  And his tan. ‘Well, I didn’t imagine you’d just arrived from London.’

  ‘No.’ He picked up his glass unhurriedly and took a mouthful of his drink. ‘I’ve been trekking in New Guinea for the past couple of weeks. I did part of the Kokoda track. I always promised my grandfather I’d walk it for him one day. His battalion was stat
ioned there in the Second World War.’

  ‘So, it has some significance for Australians, then?’

  He nodded. ‘Our lads were heroes in all kinds of ways. I got some good pics of the general area and managed to run off some film footage too. Next time I see Pa, he’ll be able to see how it is now, although it’s many years on, of course.’

  Darcie felt her heartbeat quicken. She guessed this was her opportunity to extend their personal relationship a little further, ask about his family. But somehow it all felt a bit...intimate. And he’d probably feel compelled to reciprocate, enquire about her family. And as yet she hadn’t been able to go there in any depth—not even with Maggie. While she was still cobbling her thoughts together, her attention was distracted by the sight of one of the hotel staff making his way swiftly between tables, almost running towards them. Darcie jumped to her feet.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Jack’s head spun round, his eyes following her gaze. He sensed an emergency and shoved his chair back as he stood. ‘Do you know him?’

  Darcie’s eyes lit with concern. ‘It’s Warren Rowe. He’s the manager—’

  ‘Thank God you’re here, Darcie.’ Warren looked pale and shaken. ‘The chef—young Nathan—he’s had an electric shock. We need a doctor.’

  ‘You’ve got two!’ Jack turned urgently to Darcie. ‘Grab your bag! I’ll do what I can for the casualty.’

  ‘How long has he been down?’ Jack rapped out the question as the two men sped along the veranda to the kitchen.

  ‘Not sure. Couple of minutes at most.’ Warren palmed open the swing doors and jerked to a stop. He swallowed convulsively. ‘It was the electric knife—’

  Jack’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth and in a few strides he was at the chef’s side. The young man was glassily pale, blue around the lips and, worse, he was still gripping the electric knife that had obviously short-circuited and thrown him to the floor.

  ‘I used an insulator and switched off the current at the power point,’ Warren said helpfully. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘What emergency equipment do you have?’ Jack had already kicked the knife away and begun CPR.

  ‘Defibrillator and oxygen.’