Wedding at Sunday Creek

by Leah Martyn

  Taking a moment to look in the long mirror, she decided she’d do. The top of the dress was held up by shoestring straps, showing off the light tan she’d acquired. And just wearing the dress made her feel cool and feminine—and something else.

  Desirable?

  She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. There was so much going on between her and Jack. So many undercurrents. He hadn’t spelled anything out. Neither had she.

  She scooped her hair away from her neck and let it fall loosely to her shoulders. This evening was to be about relaxing. Not supposition. Closing her bedroom door quietly, she went along the hallway, passing the dining room on the way. Stopping, she peered in. Her hand went to her throat. ‘Wow...’

  ‘Darcie, you ready?’ Jack’s voice came from the kitchen.

  ‘I’m here.’ She stepped through the doorway into the kitchen.

  Jack’s eyes swept her from head to toe.

  ‘We’re eating in the dining room, I gather?’

  ‘Well, a portion of it,’ he countered with a dry smile. He’d set one end of the long refectory table after finding rather elegant placemats and cutlery in a drawer of the big old-fashioned sideboard and had thought, Why not?

  ‘Can I give you a hand?’ Darcie’s eyes flicked over him, her gaze almost hungry. By now she knew all his features by heart—the clear blue eyes that spelled honesty, the dark hair, always a bit unruly, springing back from his temples, the strength of his facial features, honed to an almost hawk-like leanness. And his mouth—the gateway to the fulfilment of all her private dreams...

  ‘You could pour us a glass of wine,’ Jack said. ‘There’s a Riesling in the fridge. I thought it would go well with our fish. And Lauren’s left some kind of salad.’

  ‘Oh, that was sweet of her.’ Darcie brought out the wine and the salad from the fridge. ‘How are you cooking the fish?’

  ‘I’ll pan-fry it.’ Jack raised a dark brow. And then let it rest in the oven for a minute or two. ‘Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Perfectly. I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.’

  It was.

  Jack had prepared the fish into chunky fillets, leaving the skin on. Pan-fried quickly, the flesh was crisp, full of flavour and delicious.

  ‘That’s the best meal I’ve eaten in weeks,’ Darcie said, replete.

  Jack swirled the last of his wine in his glass. ‘What about your seafood last night?’

  ‘It was nice,’ Darcie allowed, with a little shrug. ‘But this was much more special.’

  ‘In what way?’ His dark head at an angle, Jack looked broodingly at her.

  She swallowed dryly. Even in the subdued light from the candles they’d lit, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. ‘Because you cooked it especially for me.’ A beat of silence. ‘Didn’t you?’ She felt her eyes drawn helplessly to his.

  ‘I needed to do something for you.’ He threw back his head and finished his wine in a gulp. ‘After my boorish behaviour recently, I thought you might walk,’ he admitted candidly.

  ‘Leave?’ Darcie almost squawked. ‘Why would I do that? Anyway, I have a contract. So unless you’re booting me out, Dr Cassidy, I’m not going anywhere.’

  Jack couldn’t believe the relief he felt. ‘So...when will you be seeing Brad again?’

  ‘I have no idea. But he’s extended his time here for a couple of months so I imagine he’ll be back and forth a bit.’

  ‘You seemed pretty cosy with him.’

  ‘And you couldn’t wait to make a snap judgement.’ Two spots of colour glazed Darcie’s cheeks. She knew where he was going with this and felt like thumping him. ‘I don’t creep around keeping men on a string. That’s not my style at all. And if you know anything about me, Jack, you should know that.’

  ‘OK...’ Jack held up his hand in acceptance. ‘I admit to a streak of jealousy a mile wide. I’m sorry for thinking what I did. Deep down I knew it wasn’t like you. I—just couldn’t seem to get past the possibility...’

  Darcie gave a sharp glance at the sudden tight set of his shoulders. So, someone, somewhere had stuffed up his ability to trust. It didn’t take much imagination to know where the blame lay. She pressed forward gently. ‘What kind of relationship did you have with your former girlfriend? You gave the impression it was just a mutual parting of the ways. But I have to wonder if it was as simple as that...’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Darcie tsked and gave a little toss of her head. ‘So, it’s OK to have me spilling the facts of my messed-up love-life but not you. How is that fair, Jack?’

  It wasn’t fair at all, Jack had to admit. But he’d been left feeling such a fool and worse. He dragged air in and expelled it. ‘You want me to talk about this here? Now?’

  ‘The place doesn’t matter.’ Her voice was soft, intense. ‘The telling does. Begin with her name, Jack. And go from there.’

  ‘Zoe,’ he said after the longest pause. ‘You already know some of the rest of it.’

  ‘Some but not all,’ Darcie said calmly. ‘Go on.’

  He rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘We met in Sydney through mutual friends. We hit it off. Pretty soon we were a couple. Our lives were busy, different, and that’s probably what kept everything fresh.’

  ‘But you had such diverse callings,’ Darcie stressed.

  ‘Yes.’ Jack eased back in his chair, unaware his eyes had taken on a bleak look. ‘Back then, Zoe had stage roles so she was working mostly at night. I worked mostly in the day. At first it didn’t seem to matter. We grabbed what time we had. Made the most of it.’

  Mostly in bed, Darcie interpreted, and felt a spasm of dislike for this woman who had obviously led Jack a merry dance and then for whatever reason had dumped their relationship and him along with it.

  ‘Zoe wanted to try her chances for work in England.’ Jack picked up the thread of the conversation reluctantly. ‘It seemed feasible and obviously I didn’t want us to be separated so I applied for an exchange. It took a while to organise and Zoe was over there for three months before I could join her.’

  ‘But surely you kept in touch?’

  ‘Of course, but, looking back now, I see it was mostly at my instigation. Zoe just said she was doing the rounds of the casting agents and I understood how much time and effort that took. Then, almost simultaneously, she landed a film part and my exchange came through. I texted her to let her know I was on my way. Told her what flight I was on.’

  And he would have been full of expectation and excitement at the prospect of reuniting with his lover. Darcie’s heart ached for him. She felt a moment of doubt. Perhaps she shouldn’t have started any of this... She held out her hand to him across the table and he took it, clasped it and looked her squarely in the eyes.

  She blinked. ‘Stop now, if you want to, Jack. I think I know what happened.’

  ‘I arrived in London a day earlier than scheduled.’ Jack went on as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘I went straight to her flat. Zoe opened the door. It was obvious my arrival was unexpected, to say the least.’

  Darcie took a dry swallow and tried gently to fill in the picture he was painting. ‘She was there with someone else?’

  He gave a hard laugh. ‘Well, they weren’t in bed but near as dammit. She was in a dressing gown and he was parked against the bedroom door, smoking one of those filthy cheroots. I wanted to smash the place up and him along with it.’

  Oh, lord. Darcie took a breath so deep it hurt. ‘So, it ended then and there? Did you not...talk?’ Yet she hadn’t, Darcie had to admit. She’d just cut and run...

  ‘At that moment there didn’t seem much point.’ Jack gave a hollow laugh. ‘But we did meet up some time later. Zoe simply said she’d moved on. That Simon was an actor, that he gave her what she needed. What I obviously hadn’t been able
to.’

  Darcie heard the pain in his voice. ‘You must have been gutted.’

  His jaw worked a bit before he answered. ‘I just got on with things. I had to. And I am over her.’

  But there was still a residue of hurt there, Darcie decided. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. ‘That’s probably why you didn’t enjoy your time in England as much as you should have.’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘If you’d been with me, I could have shown you the most wonderful time, the magical places that make England so special.’

  A beat of silence.

  ‘I’m sorry you had to leave your country,’ he said softly, his gaze, blue, clear and caressing, locking with hers.

  ‘Don’t be. Life happens, as they say.’ Her smile was a little forced as she got to her feet. ‘Now, what about a cup of tea?’

  Jack felt his throat thicken. The need to hold her and kiss her was so urgent he almost jumped up from the table to make it happen. Instead, he let the avalanche of emotion wash over him. ‘Tea sounds good.’ His jaw tightened for a moment. ‘And, Darcie?’

  ‘Jack?’ She turned back.

  ‘Thanks for the talk. And the day off.’

  * * *

  They took their tea and some chocolate mints Darcie found and went outside to the courtyard. ‘We seem to make a habit of this,’ she said, as they made themselves comfortable.

  ‘It’s a good place to relax, listen to the night sounds. Are you used to them yet?’

  ‘Mostly.’ Darcie made a small downturn of her mouth. ‘But the dingoes’ howling at night still scares the life out of me. Thankfully, they don’t come too close.’

  ‘They’re carnivores, for the most part,’ Jack said. ‘They hunt smaller animals. They only venture closer to civilisation when they can’t find food.’

  ‘So I wouldn’t find one waiting for me on the back deck, then?

  He chuckled. ‘Unlikely. And even if you did, the dingo would be more scared of you than you of it.’

  ‘Well, I hope so.’ Darcie didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘Darcie, they’re native dogs, not wolves,’ Jack’s eyes crinkled in soft amusement. ‘The rangers keep tabs on their whereabouts so stop worrying.’

  They lapsed into easy silence until Jack said, ‘Would you mind if we talked shop a for a bit?’

  Darcie gave a throaty laugh. ‘I’d be amazed if we didn’t. I’ve held off so you’d feel you’d had a real day off.’

  ‘It was good.’ Jack lifted his arms to half-mast and stretched. ‘Very good.’

  ‘So, where do you want to start?’ Darcie said.

  ‘How’s Max’s recovery?’

  ‘So far, he’s checking out well. Pain-free for most of today. I told him we’ll review his swallow quite soon.’

  Jack made a moue of conjecture. ‘I’d like to leave it for a bit longer.’ He paused and stroked his thumb across the handle of his tea mug. ‘Brad filled you in about Max’s surgery?’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Darcie said slowly. ‘He said it was your skill as a surgeon that got him through.’

  ‘Generous of him.’ Jack’s mouth tightened. ‘It was a joint effort. Brad’s an instinctive clinician.’

  ‘That’s what makes him such a good fit for the flying doctors.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Jack’s mouth curled into a noncommittal moue. He didn’t want the obvious warmth she felt towards Kitto burning a hole in his skull. So, move on. ‘The whole episode relating to Max’s surgery got me thinking, though.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘We need to re-evaluate what kinds of surgery can be safely carried out here. And I want you to know I’d never have attempted Max’s surgery without knowing there was a qualified anaesthetist on board. I’d have had Max flown out. You were right to be cautious about opening the theatre.’ He held her gaze steadily. ‘On the other hand, I was pretty arrogant about what could be accomplished here.’

  Darcie’s quick glance was very perceptive. As a proud man, she guessed it had cost him something to have admitted his lapse. ‘But there was no harm done, Jack.’

  ‘This time.’ He gave a jaded laugh. ‘I want you to know I would never put you in any position where you felt medically compromised, Darcie. In other words, only the very basic surgical procedures will be done here in future. And whether or not we decide to do them at all will in turn be a joint decision.’

  ‘That’s more than fair. Thank you.’ After a moment, she continued. ‘But I think we need to get this across to the board. And where Louise is concerned, gently, of course. But she took it as read that Max’s surgery would happen here. She was grateful and relieved that he wouldn’t have to be flown miles away.’

  Jack gave a philosophical shrug. ‘Well, I’ll talk to her privately about that. As for the rest of the board, they’ll have to be made aware that we call the shots about medical protocols.’

  Which was what she’d tried to convey in the first place, Darcie thought. But she didn’t bear grudges. She was just infinitely glad that the matter had been settled and that Jack had been the one to call it.

  ‘Sunday Creek hospital is very lucky to have you, Darcie Drummond.’

  ‘Pft!’ Darcie dismissed the earnest look in his eyes and said lightly, ‘It’s a team effort between the doctors and the nurses. The practice only functions because of the efforts of both.’

  His lips tweaked to a one-cornered grin. ‘Well, that seems that matter dealt with. Any news of David Campion?’

  Darcie shook her head. ‘I’m still hoping he’ll make his own way in to us.’

  ‘If he feels grotty enough, he may,’ Jack conceded. ‘Let’s hope your intuition is right.’

  ‘Oh, it will be.’ Darcie’s lips turned up prettily. She got to her feet. ‘Now, I’m going to do the dishes.’

  ‘I’ll help you.’ Jack was on his feet as well.

  ‘Uh-uh.’ Darcie waved away his offer. ‘You got dinner.’

  ‘Oh, let’s just leave it. I’ll bung it all in the dishwasher later,’ Jack declared, moving around the table toward her.

  In a second she was in his arms.

  ‘About before...’ Darcie’s look was contrite, her eyes glistening in the muted light. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he answered, meaning it. ‘And you know what, Dr Drummond?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You’re a very good listener.’

  ‘Oh. But I only—’

  He kissed her into silence.

  ‘You have the sexiest lips,’ he said gruffly, looking down at her.

  ‘Do I?’ Her gaze widened and she saw the heat flare in his.

  ‘You do,’ he murmured, just before he claimed her mouth again.

  Darcie made a tiny sound like a purr and felt a strange lightness, as if love and desire had rolled into one high-voltage surge, sweeping through her body and out to the tips of her fingers and toes. And with a half-formed decision of whatever would be would be, she curled her body into his, each curve and hollow finding a home, a placement, as though they’d been carved out and had been waiting to be filled.

  When he pulled back, she felt empty, bereft. She looked up at him, warm honey flecks of uncertainty chasing through her eyes.

  Looking at her, Jack felt all his senses go into free-fall. Was this the moment he asked her to go to bed with him? If not now, then when? He agonised for a few seconds, waiting for the words to form. In the almost dark the night air around them began snapping with cicada clicks and simmering with the sharp scent of lemon tea-trees.

  ‘We could take this inside...’ he murmured tautly.

  Jack’s meaning was clear and Darcie felt the nerves grab in her stomach, her mind zeroing in on the fact that they had the house to themselves and there was no on
e to disturb them. Whatever they chose to do...

  ‘I want to be with you, Darcie. Let me...’ His hands stroked up her arms before he gathered her in again, holding her to him so that she felt the solid imprint of him from thigh to breast.

  ‘Jack...’ She drew in breath, feeling his hands on her lower back, tilting her closer still, and the wild sting of anticipation pin-pricked up her spine.

  ‘Just say the word.’ His plea was muffled against her hair.

  Darcie’s arms went round his neck, images she’d dreamt about chasing sensible thoughts away. She longed to tell him what he so wanted to hear. But a little voice in her head told her that once they had taken that step, there was no going back. Nothing between them would be simple again.

  And there’d be nowhere to hide if it all went wrong.

  Nowhere.

  Wordlessly, she stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around her midriff. ‘Jack—there’s a thousand reasons why we shouldn’t go rushing into things.’

  ‘Who’s rushing?’ He made a sound of dissension. ‘This has been waiting to happen for weeks. You know we’d be good together.’ His voice was husky with gentle persuasion.

  Darcie kept her gaze lowered, unwilling to let him see her fears, her vulnerability.

  ‘You’re scared, aren’t you?’

  She licked suddenly dry lips. ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘No.’ Jack thrust back against the lattice wall. ‘But I blame that piece of work in England who took away your ability to trust your own judgement. But you have to trust again, Darcie. You have to trust me!’

  Her heart scrunched tight and she shut her eyes against the surge of desire. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be a real part of Jack’s life. Yet something pulled her back from the edge. ‘Just give me a little space, Jack. A little more time.’

  ‘Time for what, Darcie?’ Jack’s voice was without rancour but he was clearly frustrated. ‘To start overthinking things. Imagining worst-case scenarios? Come on...’

  ‘Come on, what?’ She spun away when he would have contained her. ‘You want instant solutions.’ Her heart began beating with an uncomfortable swiftness. ‘Well, sorry, Jack. I can’t give you any.’