Wedding at Sunday Creek

by Leah Martyn

  ‘Maybe not. But his circulation has to be critically impaired. We can’t tell what we’re dealing with until we get him down.’ Jack looked up to where the SES team was vainly trying to separate and cut through the thick ropes. ‘Come on, guys!’ he exhorted. ‘Lean on it! What’s keeping you?’

  ‘Doin’ our best, Doc.’ The hard-breathed reply came back. ‘Five more minutes.’

  The doctors exchanged a swift, tight look, both acknowledging that the time for a successful rescue was running out.

  Darcie kept her gaze focused on their patient until her eyes burned. If they didn’t reverse Wayne’s upside-down position in the next couple of minutes...

  Fear and anguish pooled in her stomach and froze the sunny afternoon, stretching the moments into a chasm of waiting.

  ‘OK—we’re about to cut the last of the ropes!’ Chris, from the SES, yelled. ‘He’s all yours, Doc!’

  Jack reached up, the muscles in his throat and around his mouth locked in a grimace as he took the brunt of the injured man’s weight.

  Darcie pitched in, her slender frame almost doubled as Wayne’s body descended heavily and fast into their waiting arms and they were able to guide him down onto the floor of the platform.

  There were plenty of hands to help them once they were safely on the ground. ‘I want the patient treated as a spinal injury,’ Jack said tersely. And God knew what else. ‘How’s the BP, Darcie?’

  ‘Coming down, one sixty over ninety.’

  Jack hissed out a breath. He bent closer to their patient. Wayne was dazed and confused, babbling he couldn’t feel his legs. Jack brought his head up. ‘Will you do a set of spinal obs, please, Darcie?’ he asked. As soon as she’d finished, he asked, ‘Anything?’

  She shook her head. There had been no feeling or sensation in either leg.

  ‘Right, let’s give Hartmann’s IV, one litre. Stat, please.’

  Darcie complied. Did Jack suspect internal bleeding? If he did, then they were hedging their bets here. It was better and safer to give a fluid expander if there was any doubt.

  ‘Flying doctor’s landed,’ someone said, waving a phone.

  ‘Almost ready for us, Jack?’ Zach Bayliss hovered anxiously. This guy looked very bad. The sooner they got him loaded and away the better.

  ‘Just give us a minute to get some morphine into him, Zach.’ Jack brought up the dose. ‘I’ll come with you for the handover.’

  ‘Right, good.’ The paramedic looked relieved. ‘Where are the flying docs taking him?’

  ‘The Princess Alexandra in Brisbane.’

  ‘It’s the best place for him,’ Zach agreed.

  Jack nodded, proud of his old teaching hospital. The PA was outstanding. The leaders in immediate post-trauma care. And for Wayne it could mean the difference between life and death, or full or partial paraplegia.

  ‘Darcie.’ Jack touched her shoulder briefly. ‘Check there are no minor injuries to be dealt with, please. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Good luck, Wayne. The silent wish came from Darcie’s heart as she watched the ambulance move away. She felt a shiver of unease up her backbone. This place was beginning to give her the creeps, the tree where the stuntman had been caught rising like some kind of grotesque giant. No, not a nice place at all, she decided. And the sooner they were shot of it, the better...

  * * *

  ‘I take it you’ve put in a call to Workplace Health and Safety?’ Darcie said much later, as they drove back to town.

  ‘And the local MP.’ The tension in Jack’s face had eased remarkably. ‘If Meadows and his cronies haven’t had their dodgy operations closed down by tonight, I’ll raise hell.’

  ‘Mal and his constables took statements from the film crew,’ Darcie said. ‘Blake Meadows had the hide to say that time meant money and that he wasn’t going to hang about.’

  Jack snorted. ‘I’ll bet that went down well with Mal.’

  ‘He told Meadows that if he ignored a police directive, he’d be arrested,’ Darcie said with satisfaction. ‘Mal was brilliant.’

  ‘So were you, Dr Drummond.’ Jack reached across and found her hand, sliding his fingers through hers. ‘I—uh—finished moving into the house this morning.’

  ‘Oh—I hadn’t realised...’ Silence seemed to hang between them, a great curve of it, until Darcie gave an off-key laugh edged with uncertainty. ‘Are you going to have a house-warming, then?’

  The sides of his mouth pleated in a dry smile. ‘I thought we’d already done that.’

  Darcie lowered her gaze, at the same time feeling her skin heat up.

  ‘What about coming for dinner?’ Jack increased the pressure on her fingers.

  Darcie tried to ignore the sudden leap in her pulse as his thigh brushed against hers. ‘I think I can manage that,’ she said slowly. ‘Shall I bring something towards the meal?’

  ‘Not necessary. Just come prepared to stay, Darcie.’ Jack’s voice had dropped to a deep huskiness. ‘I want to hold you all night.’

  * * *

  The following morning Darcie asked if they could debrief.

  Jack’s dark brows flicked up. ‘About Wayne?’ They were sitting side by side at the breakfast bar, their mugs of tea in front of them.

  ‘Have you heard anything?’

  ‘I got on to the surgical registrar a while ago,’ Jack said. ‘Wayne’s still with us.’

  ‘Oh, thank heavens. Was it a fractured NOF?’

  ‘Herniated L one, two and three.’

  Lumbar vertebrae prolapse, Darcie interpreted. ‘It must have happened in the initial fall when the rigging collapsed and left him hanging. Poor man. He must have been in such agony.’

  ‘He’s been put on a Fentanyl protocol IV. It’s a strong narcotic so I guess his pain is manageable.’

  ‘What about spinal damage? Do we know?’

  ‘He’s had MRI and CT scans. Seems OK. I’ll check with the surgeon in charge later today.’

  Darcie’s eyes went straight to his face and slid away. ‘Do you ever wish you were back there in the thick of it again?’

  A small silence bled inwards, until Jack lifted his mug and drank the last of his tea. ‘No, I don’t,’ he said. ‘Why would I, when I can be here with you?’

  ‘Same here...’ She looked past Jack to the open window and beyond it, her eyes soft and dreamy.

  Watching her expression, Jack took stock. I don’t ever want to be away from her, he thought, unbelieving of the avalanche of emotion that arrowed into him. And recognising with stark reality that what he’d had with Zoe now seemed a pale imitation of what Darcie had brought to his life.

  Jack Cassidy had fallen headlong in love. The thought scared him, delighted him, amazed him. ‘Why don’t we get married?’

  Darcie’s mouth opened and closed. She blinked rapidly. ‘Married?’ Her voice was hardly there.

  ‘I love you,’ he said for the first time.

  She took a shuddery little breath. ‘I know...’

  ‘And you love me.’ His jaw worked. ‘You couldn’t be with me the way you are, unless you did.’

  ‘Marriage, though...’ she countered inadequately. ‘We’re from such different backgrounds, different countries...’

  ‘Happens all the time,’ he drawled, his tone careful and hard to read. ‘Just please don’t say we hardly know each other, Darcie.’

  ‘No.’ She gave a forced laugh. ‘That would be silly. Marriage is an enormous commitment, though, Jack. Doesn’t it scare you?’

  ‘Not at all. We’re perfect together and I love everything about you.’

  ‘Oh, Jack...’ She shook her head. ‘I have so much baggage.’

  ‘No, Darcie. You don’t.’ He lifted her hand and rubbed the knuckles against his cheek. ‘You left it
all behind at the creek, when we kissed for the first time.’

  But it’s still there, she thought silently, and carefully reclaimed her hand. ‘I need some time to process all this.’

  ‘In other words, you’re going to tie yourself in knots.’

  Self-preservation hardened her response. ‘Well, I’m sorry I can’t see everything in black and white like you.’

  ‘You’re taking this to extremes, Darcie. Hell! I’ve asked you marry me, not jump off London Bridge!’

  Maybe that would have been easier.

  ‘Why do we even have to talk about marriage?’ Sheer panic sharpened her words. ‘We’re all right the way we are.’

  He gave a snort of derision. ‘Sometimes lovers. Would you be happy with that?’

  Meaning that he wouldn’t. ‘I’m just grateful for what we have.’

  ‘But it could be so much more!’ Sliding off the stool, he strode to the window and turned back. ‘So, what do you need from me, Darcie? Just tell me.’

  Her eyes clouded. ‘I just need you to give me some more space. And no pressure.’ She swallowed thickly. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Jack, but I won’t be pressured into making a life-changing decision.’

  ‘On the other hand, if you could bring yourself to trust me, we could have something amazing together.’

  Or broken hearts for ever if it didn’t work. She got to her feet. ‘I need your word about this, Jack.’

  Jack stared at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched, a tiny muscle jumping. He flicked an open-handed shrug. ‘If that’s what you want...’

  What did she want? In a moment of self-doubt she wanted to ditch her scruples and accept Jack’s proposal. Make a life with him far from everything that had driven her here. But deep down she knew she couldn’t make the leap. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. She swallowed the razor-sharp emotion clogging her throat. ‘That’s what I want.’

  * * *

  Three days later at the nurses’ station Maggie asked Darcie if she was OK.

  ‘Fine.’ Darcie looked up from the computer. ‘Why?’

  ‘You seem a bit...distracted.’

  The nerves in Darcie’s stomach did a tumble turn. ‘You’re imagining things, Maggie.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Maggie insisted.

  Darcie huffed a laugh. ‘That carry-on the other day out at the film site would make anyone distracted,’ she offered by way of explanation. ‘I hate administering medicine on the trot like that.’

  ‘Well, Meadows and his lot have left the district,’ Maggie said. ‘Packed up and gone apparently. And there’s an investigation pending. You and Jack will likely be called as witnesses.’

  That’s if she was still here in Sunday Creek. Darcie felt her throat tighten. ‘I thought you were going with Jack to the outreach clinic today,’ she said, changing lanes swiftly.

  ‘I cried off. Ethan’s not feeling so well.’

  ‘Oh, poor kid,’ Darcie commiserated. ‘Would you like me to check him over?’

  ‘Thanks, Darce, but he’ll be fine. It’s just a tummy upset. I’ll pop home at lunchtime and take him some new DVDs. Lauren was keen to get a turn at the clinic so it worked out all right. Hey, great news Jack’s organised for an ophthalmologist to take a regular clinic out here, isn’t it? Quite a few eye problems among our indigenous folk, from all accounts.’

  Darcie felt taken aback. ‘He didn’t mention any of that to me.’

  The two looked at each other awkwardly. And then Maggie took the initiative. ‘He’s got a lot on his plate. Probably slipped his mind.’

  Or perhaps he was just taking her request for space to extremes. Darcie felt her stomach dive. It was all such a mess.

  And it couldn’t go on indefinitely.

  * * *

  It was early evening the same day and Jack was sitting on his front veranda. Since Darcie’s standoff, he’d felt like throwing things. He’d even considered howling at the moon once or twice but that wouldn’t have solved anything.

  Why the hell had he mentioned the M word to Darcie? Just because it had seemed a good idea at the time. He hated the panic he’d seen on her face. And knowing he’d been the cause of it made it even worse. Idiot! His heart lurched. He should be renamed Crass Cassidy.

  He had to talk with her. Keeping this ridiculous space between them was crazy. ‘What do you think, mate?’ Reaching down, he ruffled Capone’s rough coat. Capone laid his head on his front paws and gave a feeble wag of his tail, before settling. Jack thought about it for one second. ‘I guess that’s a yes, then.’

  Decision made, he got to his feet swiftly and went inside to locate his car keys. He’d go across to the residence now before he could change his mind. Making sure the house was secure, he pocketed his keys and walked back along the hallway to the front veranda.

  About to close the front door, he stopped. Headlights lit up the street and a car stopped outside his house. He muttered a curse. Who wanted him now? Was it one of the board members? If it was, why couldn’t they come to the hospital in daylight hours like normal people?

  He blew out a resigned breath and waited. It was no use pretending he wasn’t home as his silhouette was backlit from the sensor light on the veranda. As he waited, the driver’s door opened and a figure got out. He blinked a bit. There were no streetlights but unless his eyes deceived him, it was...Darcie?

  ‘Hi,’ she called throatily, as she opened the gate and came up the path.

  ‘I didn’t recognise the car.’ Jack winced at the mundane greeting.

  Darcie reached the steps. ‘My car wouldn’t start. The guys from the garage lent me this one.’

  Jack beckoned her up the steps. ‘Any clue what’s wrong with your car?’

  She shrugged. ‘One of the mechanics will sort it.’ And why on earth were they talking about dumb cars? The nerves in Darcie’s stomach twisted. Already, the tension between them was as sticky as toffee. Her shoulders rose in a steadying breath. She had to do what she’d come to do. ‘Could we talk?’

  Jack felt relief with the force of a tsunami sweep through him. ‘Of course we can talk.’ He swallowed the sudden constriction in his throat. ‘As a matter of fact, I was almost out the door myself. I was coming to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh...’

  They looked at each other helplessly, unable to bridge the gap.

  ‘OK if we sit here?’ Jack waved her to one of the cane chairs on the veranda. ‘Or we can go inside.’ Or I can take you in my arms and hold you.

  She shook her head. ‘Here’s fine.’ She took the chair he offered.

  ‘So...’ His mouth tightened for a second before he hooked out a chair and sat. ‘What did you want to say to me?’

  Darcie ground her lip. ‘I have some leave due. I’d like to take it.’

  Jack sat back as if he’d been stung. This was not what he’d been hoping to hear. In the ensuing silence he scraped a hand across his cheekbones, took a long breath and released it. ‘When do you want to go? In other words, do you need to make plans?’

  ‘I’ve made them.’ In fact, she’d spent the last couple of hours online, doing just that.

  ‘OK...’ He digested that for a minute. ‘So, when?’

  ‘There’s a flight out tomorrow. I’d like to be on it.’

  ‘To Brisbane?’

  She nodded.

  Jack suspected he should leave it there but couldn’t. ‘Well, that’s probably a good call. Being in Brisbane will give you easy access to the coast.’

  She met his gaze, startled. ‘I’m not going to the coast.’ She swallowed past the lump in her throat. ‘I’m flying home.’

  ‘Home?’ Jack emphasised, feeling as though his heart had been cut from its moorings and was flailing all over the place. ‘To England?’

  She gave a tight sh
rug, wishing she’d used another word. But it was out there now. Front and centre.

  ‘I thought you said Australia was home for you now?’ A latent prickle of anger sharpened his response.

  ‘I don’t want to start playing semantics, Jack.’ Suddenly Darcie felt apart and alone. ‘This is something I have to do.’

  ‘Why, Darcie?’

  ‘You know why...’ She met his gaze unflinchingly, although inside she was quivering. ‘I hate the term but I have to say it. I need closure.’

  ‘You’re going to see him, aren’t you?’ Jack’s eyes burned like polished sapphires. ‘What, precisely, is the point of doing that?’

  ‘Because I let him get away with everything! I should have stood my ground! Called Aaron on his despicable behaviour. Instead...’ She paused painfully. ‘I folded like an empty crisp packet. And bolted.’

  ‘Which is what you should have done. God, Darcie...’ Jack shook his head in disbelief. ‘The cretin isn’t worth the plane fare to England. Do you even know if he’s still at the same hospital?’

  ‘He’s still there. I checked.’

  Suddenly the atmosphere between them was crackling with instability.

  Darcie felt the quick rise of desire, watching the play of his muscles under his dark T-shirt as he leant back in his chair and planted his hands on his hips. ‘Here’s another scenario,’ he said. ‘If you could delay your departure for a couple of days, I could arrange to come with you.’

  Her teeth worried at her bottom lip. She felt guilty for not wanting him to accompany her. But he had to understand this was something she had to do on her own. ‘Jack—my travel arrangements are locked in. Besides, the board would hardly approve your leave, would they?’

  ‘The board can mind their own business.’

  She gave a fleeting smile. ‘The running of the hospital is their business, Jack. And, honestly, you don’t need to feel responsible for me. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Have you considered he might talk you into giving him a second chance?’ Jack didn’t look at her because he couldn’t. The question he’d posed was too important. Just spelling it out opened a door on a future—their future—that was suddenly treacherous with deep, dark chasms and the crippling effect of stepping into a minefield.