by Clare Revell
“Not here,” Tim said dryly. “Hence the radio. And no power for email either.”
Jed shook his head. “I can’t take her. The roads aren’t safe. The rebels—actually, speak of the devil. They want to evac you lot outta here. You need to radio—” He broke off, swearing, managing to cut off the blasphemy just in time. “I’ll use the radio in the Ute. Call a chopper and they can take the whole jolly lot of you away.”
“Jed, please…” Tim began.
Lucy sighed. “Tim, don’t waste your breath. I’m not going anywhere, least of all with him. And that’s final. Not even if he were the last man on the face of the planet.”
Jed spun around, fixing his furious gaze on her. His arguments aside, no one was allowed to insult him like that. Yes, he was mad, but there were some words even he wouldn’t use in front of a lady. Instead, he opted for one of the milder cuss words he’d heard even Christians use. “Why the heck not? What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re rude. I don’t like you. You swear way too much. You have lousy taste in music.” Her eyes unfocused for a second or two. “And you have a snake on your arm.”
Building anger filled him until her last words. He automatically brushed his arm, glancing down. “No, I don’t,” he snapped. “And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
“I don’t feel…” Lucy closed her eyes.
“The meds are kicking in,” Vic said. “She might be a little more compliant, but I doubt it.”
Jed turned to Tim. “Look, I agree she needs a hospital, but it’s really not safe out there. The main road is closed because of the fighting, and the back roads are naff at the best of times. On top of that, the Ute can be a little shonky when she puts her mind to it. And with the monsoon about to start the roads are just gonna get worse.”
Thunder crashed in the distance, right on cue.
Jed nodded to the window. “The jungle is no place for a woman, especially a sheila who’s talking rubbish.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “She was right about one thing.”
“What’s that?” he asked, not having expected anyone to agree with the woman’s torrent of abuse.
“Your choice of language can be a little colorful at times. At least more than she’s used to hearing in the mission field.”
“There is a snake on your arm,” Mani added, indicating the edge of the tattoo peeking from under Jed’s shirt sleeve.
“And your music is a little loud.” Vic winked.
Jed scowled. He didn’t want to take the sheila, couldn’t risk something happening to her on the road. But at the same time, she needed medical help and with no radio they couldn’t call a chopper. He could, but the rebels would intercept the transmission and be here sooner. He really had no choice but to try to get the doc out himself. Sucking in a deep breath, he looked at Tim. “Would it be possible to take a shower before we leave?”
“Sure.” Tim nodded. “We’ve got soap and towels you can use.”
“Cheers.” He followed the bloke to the shower block. “Pack up what meds the doc will need while I shower. Better give me a weeks’ worth just to be on the safe side.” He took the soap and towels. He turned the water on full belt. He showered twice. First with his clothes on to wash them, because who knew when he’d get to change them again. Then he stripped and showered properly.
His fingers ran over the snake tattoo on his left arm. That was one of his favorites, despite having been done after a long session with the blokes that left him blind drunk. No doubt, the nosy sheila would want to know the story behind the tattoos, but if he told anyone it wouldn’t be her. With a bit of luck, she’d sleep all the way to the city.
He dried off, then wrung out his clothes and put them back on. In this heat, he’d dry fast. Thunder rolled again. He glanced through the window at the clouds building in the distance. “Just give me two days,” he muttered. “Just hold off for two days.”
He headed back to the clinic and looked at Lucy. “Ready?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped. “Why won’t anyone listen to me?”
“Shut up. I took a shower, washed my hair and my clothes, just to take you out. So you jolly well are coming if I have to drag you all the way to the city myself. Have they packed for you?” As she shook her head, he heaved a heavy sigh and stomped off towards her room.
As he flung open the drawers and grabbed a backpack, he could hear her moving slowly down the hallway.
“Don’t you go through my drawers,” she called, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice.
“I wouldn’t go through your drawers if you paid me, darl’,” he yelled back, deliberately using innuendo. He flung her underwear into the bag, followed by shirts, shorts and a very short nightshirt. He turned around, grabbing her hair brush.
Lucy appeared in the doorway. “I beg your pardon!”
“Granted, but like you said the other day, darl’, you ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen a dozen times.”
Her jaw dropped. “How…how dare you?”
He smirked. “I think the expression you’re looking for is how very dare you, actually. Where’s your wash bag and toothbrush?”
“Over there.”
Jed shoved those into the pack as well. “I’ll come back for ya in a sec.” He brushed past her and took her bag out to the Ute. He slung it in the back.
Mani came out with a crate. “Some food, water, and meds.”
Jed nodded. “Cheers.” He noticed the pot of violets in the side of the crate, but didn’t say anything. “Set it in the back. I’ll go get the doc.”
He headed back inside and swung Lucy into his arms.
She struggled, managing to keep hold of the crutches. “Hey, I can walk.”
“I beg to differ.” He strode to the Ute and dumped her unceremoniously into the passenger seat. “Sit there and belt up.”
“Belt up?” Fire briefly replaced the pain in her eyes.
“Take it both ways, lady. She’ll be apples, you’ll see.” He scurried around the vehicle. Sooner he bailed the better.
“What have apples got to do with anything?” she sighed, struggling with the belt.
Jed tried to start the Ute. “Means it’ll be OK.”
Tim ran over. “Before you go…” He leaned in through the window and took Lucy’s hand. “Lord, God, I pray for protection on the road for Lucy and Jed…”
Jed shook his head and tuned out Tim, turning the engine over and over until it caught. God sure hadn’t protected him in the past, and he didn’t see how that was about to change now. He cast one eye over the darkening sky to the west.
Two more days. Just give me two more days before you fall, rain.
He raised his hand in farewell, as Tim finished speaking, slammed the Ute into gear and left a trail of dust behind him.
5
Lucy grabbed the dashboard and held on for dear life as the truck lurched over the rough road. “I thought bouncing on roads was a metaphor,” she gasped.
Jed stopped chewing the piece of gum long enough to shake his head. “Nope.”
Could the man not do two things at once? “Can’t we use the main road?”
His chewing grew louder. “Nope.” He turned up the music.
Lucy turned it down immediately. “Why not?”
“Guerillas.” He spat something out of the window, hopefully the gum, and then twisted and stretched across Lucy. He pulled open the glove box and drew out a pack of cigarettes. He flipped it open and offered the pack to her.
She shook her head. “No, thanks.” The pain in her knee reached new heights. Her stomach churned, and she swallowed hard.
Jed shrugged. He pulled a cigarette out with his teeth and tossed the pack back, pushing the glove box shut. He lit up and inhaled deeply.
“That will kill you,” she chided.
His only reaction was to blow a cloud of smoke at her.
She coughed and waved a hand to clear it.
He laughed, transf
erring the cigarette to the hand by the window. “Better?”
She closed her eyes as the truck lurched again. “I think your suspension is going.”
“Think?”
She groaned. This was going to be a very long day. Assuming she lasted that long. “Can you use more than one word at a time while driving?”
He tilted his head for a moment. “Nope.”
“Great.” Lucy sucked in a deep breath, her stomach churning. With all that was going on, and her fighting so much over leaving, she hadn’t asked for the travel meds. “Pull over.”
Jed glared at her. “No.”
She swallowed hard, bile rising fast. “Pull over or I throw up in your truck.”
Jed slammed on the brakes, forcing her against the seatbelt. He turned the music up full blast.
Lucy flung open the door and leaned out as far as she could. Pain, plus motion sickness, wasn’t a good combination. She heaved over and over. Finally, she leaned back in the seat.
“Better?”
She nodded, holding one hand against her stomach, sucking in several deep breaths.
“Goodo.” He slammed the truck into gear, setting off again.
Lucy groaned as the road got worse. She hung onto the seat with one hand, pressing her stomach with the other, and praying the nausea would ease. But she only managed five minutes before she had to ask Jed to stop again. The next half hour was just as miserable. After the fifth time of her asking, Jed didn’t even bother to hide the sigh of displeasure as he stopped.
Leaning back into her seat, exhausted, Lucy looked at him. “What? I can’t help it.”
“Women,” he muttered.
“I said all along I didn’t want to come in your truck…”
“Ute,” he corrected.
“Whatever you call it. I get travel sick going five miles in a car on a tarmac road if I’m not driving. Never mind this.”
Jed thumped the steering wheel with both hands, setting off the horn. He swore. “Car sick? Are you having me on?”
Lucy pressed her hand to her mouth, swallowing hard. The urge to throw up eased. “No, I’m not. And please don’t swear. Or I might just throw up on you.”
He scowled. “Throw up in my Ute, and I’ll teach you swear words you didn’t know existed.”
She shut her eyes. “Can I at least have the window open more than a crack? The smoke isn’t helping.”
He stubbed out the cigarette. “Sure.”
Lucy cranked open the window, twisted to face it, and sucked in a deep breath.
“Would there be anything to help in the box of meds they gave me?”
“Might be. It’ll be in a red box if there is.”
He opened his door and leapt out. Moving to the back of the truck, he started rummaging through the crate. “How’s your pain level?”
“Bad.”
“How bad is bad?”
Lucy bit her lip and rubbed a sleeve over her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her. If she were honest, she no longer knew what to do with herself. She wanted this whole nightmare over.
Please, God, get me out of here…
She opened her eyes and jumped. Jed stood right there, studying her.
“Pretty bad, then,” he said, his voice gentler than it had been. “Crikey, woman, why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t want to be a burden. It made you mad to bring me anyway. And I don’t need mollycoddling.” She wrapped her arms tightly across her middle, wishing fervently she hadn’t been made to come. She had no idea what God was thinking, leaving her alone with this uncouth man for so long. Although, she had to admit, he did clean up well.
He heaved a sigh. “Don’t you come the raw prawn with me. I’ve seen my fair share of serious injuries and know from personal experience what severe pain’s like.” He pulled the cap off the needle with his teeth and spat it inside the truck. “Believe me; I have no intention of mollycoddling anyone, especially you. This is the anti-nausea.” He yanked open the door. “Arm or leg?”
“Arm.” She closed her eyes. Something cold brushed against her arm, followed by the sharp sting of the shot.
“I’ll go get the pain meds. Don’t move.”
“Can’t move,” she whispered. Please, God, do something, anything. Just get me through the next day. He can’t be all bad, but…
Her eyes flung open as another needle pierced her skin. “What was…?” She broke off, instantly woozy. Her vision blurred and her head swam. “What did you—?” Her eyes fluttered closed as bright light surrounded her.
~*~
Jed fastened the seatbelt, and tucked the faded blanket from the back of the Ute around her. He shut the door and strode to the back of the vehicle. He’d never known a woman like her. She could whinge and earbash like a good’un, but at the same time, he was starting to feel sorry for her. She didn’t want to be here anymore than he wanted her around.
He fastened the back cover on the Ute and went around to the driver’s side. The woman was as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. And he didn’t have time for…
Jed shook his head.
All these women were the same. She’d be just like his succession of foster mothers. He’d never meet her high standards. No matter how hard he tried. OK, she was unlikely to lock him in the dunny without supper, or stub a smoke out on him, but could he take the chance on letting himself become emotionally involved with anyone who believed in a God who allowed kids to suffer?
No.
No, he couldn’t.
Not when he was one of those kids.
No matter how much he wanted kids of his own one day. Just a darn shame he’d have to put up with a wife in order to get them.
It had to be this way. He had to be alone. It was safer.
He started the Ute, and set off. Hopefully, he’d go more than half a mile this time before having to stop again. Reaching down, he grabbed the radio. Time to call in. “Hey, Pete, it’s Jed. Are you there?”
“Sure am.” Pete’s voice crackled over the airwaves. “You on the way back?”
“Not exactly. I have one of the medics with me.”
“Who?”
Jed paused. The airwaves weren’t exactly safe, and he didn’t want the guerrilla’s finding out he had a sheila with him—especially one who couldn’t run away. They’d be sitting ducks. He was a pretty good shot, but even he couldn’t fight off a whole platoon of armed men. “One of the docs. We’re heading to one of the hospitals to pick up some urgent supplies.”
The Ute lurched over the road. The suspension creaked.
“The rains are coming.” Pete sounded worried.
“I know and believe me, mate, if I had a choice, I would not be doing this.” He glanced up at the sky. “I’m hoping we make it before it gets too wet out here.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the Ute,” he snapped. “Roughly thirty miles out from the mission. The best I can do on these back roads is crawl along at a whopping fifteen miles an hour, twenty at the most.”
“Step on it.”
Jed cursed as the Ute hit another rut. “I’m trying, but the roads ain’t the best.”
“Radio in every two hours.”
“Will do. Out.” He replaced the mic and turned the music up full blast. His fingers tapped in time to the drums and bass filling the vehicle. He began to hum and ended up singing full belt, forgetting for a while he even had a passenger.
Three hours later, he parked and jumped out for what foster mother number seven called a comfort stop. He headed into the bush, his senses on full alert. Aware of the gun tucked into the back of his pants, he untucked his shirt to cover it.
Back at the Ute, Dr. Boyd was still out of it.
“Long may silence reign.” He pulled a wipe from the pack in the door and rubbed it over his hands. Tucking it into the garbo-bag, he got back in the Ute and started her up.
An hour further down the road, the doctor still hadn’t stirred. Was that normal? Reaching over, he shoo
k her. “Time to wake up, doc.”
There was no reaction, not even a murmur.
He slowed to a stop and yanked up the handbrake. He shook her harder. “Dr. Boyd?”
Lucy’s head rolled towards him.
Wow. He realized with a jolt how pretty she was. Full lips, long lashes, small nose, with her blonde hair framing her face, loose strands hanging over her cheek.
He reached out, gently pushing the strands back. Her skin was soft and for a moment, he was tempted to kiss her.
Then his senses returned. “Grow up, Jed,” he scolded himself. “She’s not sleeping beauty. Kissing her is the most idiotic idea you had in years.” He shook her harder. “Doc, wake up.” He tapped her cheek. “Come on, Lucy, open your eyes.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
He tapped her again, a little harder. “That’s it, come on. Wakey, wakey.”
Her eyes slowly opened.
“How ya doing?”
“I don’t…” She sat bolt upright, crying out as she knocked her knee on the door.
His hands gently eased her back in the seat. “Take it easy.”
Lucy struggled to focus on him. “Where am I?”
“In my Ute. We’re about sixty miles from your place. It’s kinda slow going right about now.”
“We should travel by map,” she muttered. “It’s quicker.”
Jed frowned. “Map?”
She reached out and drew two X’s in the dust on the dashboard. “This is where I live. This is the city.” She connected the two marks with a line. “See, there. Much faster.” She rubbed her temples slowly, and pulled a face as she swallowed.
“Here.” He handed her a piece of gum. “It won’t compensate for cleaning your teeth, but I don’t have a limitless supply of water. It’ll freshen your mouth after being sick earlier.”
“Thanks.” She unwrapped the small piece of gum and put it in her mouth. She chewed slowly. “How long was I out?”
“Three and a half, maybe four hours. I was beginning to think I’d killed you.”
“No such luck. What did you give me?”
“No idea. They packed me up a crate of stuff. Got it from the box with the headache pills in. It started with a....” he faltered. “The box it was in was blue.” He pulled the vial and syringe from where he’d tossed them and gave it to her. “That’s the one.”
