The Outback Doctor's Surprise Bride

by Amy Andrews

  Still, she wasn’t stupid enough to take him to any of the more secluded pools. She hadn’t forgotten the reason why she was up here and she certainly wasn’t going to give him an unfair advantage.

  She followed the short track to the main pool and was satisfied to see several family groups and couples had set up camp around the edges. It wasn’t crowded enough to ruin the enjoyment but it wasn’t deserted either.

  ‘This looks perfect,’ she said, finding a spot not too close to anyone but near enough to be in full view.

  James raised an amused eyebrow. ‘You think prying eyes are going to help you keep your hands off me?’

  ‘I don’t need any help,’ she replied steadily. ‘They’re to keep you honest.’

  He chuckled. ‘You think I care about an audience?’

  Helen swallowed. No, he probably didn’t. She ignored his comment and unzipped her jacket. ‘I’m going for a swim.’

  She was conscious of his gaze on her as she quickly stripped down to the black one-piece she had on beneath her leathers. She daren’t even look at him when she was done, afraid of the desire she’d seen in his eyes. She just turned and plunged straight into the pool.

  James stared helplessly after her. She’d pulled off her clothes and was gone in what seemed like the blink of an eye but the bit in the middle would be burned on his retinas for ever. A swimsuit that covered everything but left nothing to the imagination. The bulge of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the slimness of her shoulders and waist and the jut of her hip.

  He felt a droplet of water hit his cheek and he looked down to find her splashing him. ‘Come on in. It’s gorgeous.’

  The warmth of the water enveloped her instantly and she lay on her back as she waited for him to join her. The heat was drugging and she pondered the supposed detoxifying qualities of the springs as she stared at the little squares of blue sky just visible through the lush canopy. Local legend had it that spirits lived in the springs.

  She felt water land on her face and she popped her head up in time to see him swiping his arm in a wide arc across the surface and thrusting in her direction. She couldn’t see what he was wearing. All she could see was his magnificent naked chest decorated with its dainty medallion and she prayed to the spirits, if they existed, for restraint.

  They wallowed in the water for an hour, chatting occasionally. Helen gave him the tourist blurb on the local area and he listened attentively. A beach ball landed between them and for twenty minutes they got caught up in an impromptu volleyball game.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Helen said as the game came to a close.

  ‘Lets eat, then.’

  Helen watched as his powerful arm muscles boosted him out of the pool. Water sluiced off his hair and down his back in a fluid sheet, his muscles flexing as he twisted. He stood and she was treading water in the pool, staring up at him.

  It was a very bad vantage point. His usually tall frame looked potently dominant. His legs looked longer, his quads bulkier. His chest broader. Black Lycra briefs, similar to cyclist pants and just covering his upper thighs, moulded his hips, buttocks and the contours of his manhood.

  ‘Here,’ he said, and held out his hand to her.

  Helen was too dumbfounded to refuse. She took his hand and he pulled her out of the water as if she weighed no more than a feather. She stumbled against him briefly as she found her footing but quickly stepped back and dropped her hand from his.

  She found her towel and quickly dried herself off, paying particular attention to her hair. The warmth of the day would dry her skin and costume quickly. It was her thick hair that would take for ever.

  James also dried off quickly and then threw the towel down on the ground and sat on it as he pulled things out of the backpack. By the time Helen had sat too he had it all prepared. Mini-quiches, ham and salad rolls stuffed with filling and a fruit platter. He’d even thrown in two long-necked beers.

  ‘Wow, this looks amazing,’ Helen said, pulling on her T-shirt. She knew she’d never have the nerve to sit in her costume as he was and not cover up.

  She accepted the beer and clinked the neck against his. ‘Cheers.’

  They ate in silence for the most part, content to absorb their surroundings and let other people’s conversation drift around them. James’s medallion moved with every movement of his jaw and Helen’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to it.

  She reached forward and picked the delicate piece of jewellery off the broad expanse of chest. ‘Is that a St Christopher?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘Patron saint of travellers.’

  She dropped it back against his neck. ‘Did someone give it to you?’

  He gave her a steady stare. ‘It belonged to my father. It came with the bike.’

  She was surprised. It was so fine, almost feminine she’d assumed that a woman had given it to him. Of course, it looked curiously at home around the corded muscles of his neck. On any other man it may have even looked effeminate but he was so masculine it just looked…right.

  Helen took a long swallow of her beer, her eyes focused on the St Christopher, not daring to look lower. ‘Tell me about your dad.’

  James drained the contents of his bottle. ‘Not much to tell.’ He shrugged. ‘He married my mother because she was pregnant with me. He stayed until the day I left for uni and then he took off.’

  He was tense. She could see the muscles of his shoulders and neck were corded tight, the veins protruded, a pulse hammered in the hollow of his throat. ‘They weren’t happy.’

  He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Now, there’s an understatement! I don’t remember a time when they were ever happy.’

  Helen could hear the bitterness in his voice. ‘They argued a lot?’

  James shook his head. ‘No. They didn’t. No more than any other couple, I guess. They just co-existed. They got married through some twisted sense of obligation to me and then felt trapped by it for the rest of their lives. They were very different people, who didn’t really get on. The only thing they shared in common was me. They were polite but distant. Not very demonstrative or emotional.’

  Helen drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. Her heart bled for him. His childhood sounded so desolate. At least she’d had Elsie’s love and care. At least she’d felt wanted by someone. His turquoise gaze stared past her. He hadn’t looked her in the eye since the conversation had begun. ‘It sounds lonely.’

  ‘It was,’ he said abruptly. He really didn’t want to spoil this time with her by dredging up his past.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m prying. You don’t want to talk about this.’

  James looked at her then. He saw the compassion warming the amber flecks in her cool jade eyes. He sighed. ‘No, it’s OK. It doesn’t matter. It’s…a long time ago now.’ But living in Skye, being embraced by the community, seeing Helen with Elsie, had bought his childhood back into sharp focus. He’d thought about those days a lot recently. Skye’s easy acceptance of him had made him acutely aware of what he’d missed out on.

  ‘Families are…complicated,’ she agreed.

  James nodded. He started to peel the label off his beer bottle. ‘I always got the sense that I was in the way of the lives they wanted to lead. Like I was a nuisance. Don’t get me wrong. They didn’t beat me or anything.’

  ‘They just neglected you emotionally.’ The thought of a little boy wandering around a house, aching for someone to pay him a little attention, was awful.

  James heard the sharpness of her tone as he pulled at the label. ‘No. Not on purpose. They just were too caught up in their own sadness to notice I was there most of the time.’

  James dropped the denuded bottle down on the ground beside him and started peeling the label off hers. The St Christopher swung gently with his movements.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, its OK. I turned out all right.’ He grinned.

  She looked at his self-deprecating smile and he looked completely unaffected. Except that shadow in his
eyes that she’d seen lurking that first day was suddenly explained. Sure, he seemed fine, but he travelled from place to place, looking for something that not even he could figure out. She knew how devastating parental behaviour could be. How a sense of family, or lack of it, isolated kids in a way that touched every aspect of their lives. For ever. No matter how grown-up they’d become.

  ‘No thanks to your folks,’ she said.

  James dropped the second stripped bottle to the ground and it clanked against the first. ‘They did the best they could with what they had.’

  She nodded. She guessed everyone had different standards. But sharing his childhood with him had brought back her own painful memories. She could see the lost, lonely little boy and could totally relate to him. How often had she felt abandoned? How desperately had she craved being part of a real family? Was it right that children had to suffer because they were powerless and some adults made bad decisions?

  Helen didn’t realise how engrossed they were in their conversation until a shrill desperate plea broke the air of quiet relaxation around the pool.

  ‘Help! Help! Is there a doctor or midwife anywhere?’

  James and Helen looked up instantly at the cry for help. The panicked voice was coming from one of the many walking tracks that led from the main pool.

  ‘Don?’ Helen gasped, staring as a man and a woman came into view. She was on her feet in two seconds, followed closely by James, their wretched childhoods forgotten.

  ‘Genevieve!’ Helen exclaimed, closing the distance as she pushed through the curious crowd that had leapt to their feet at the first sign of crisis.

  ‘Helen! James! Thank God!’ Genevieve said, sagging against Helen instantly.

  Helen looked into Genevieve’s flushed face, her heavily pregnant abdomen looking cumbersome. ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded.

  ‘I’m in labour,’ Genevieve panted, clutching Helen’s arm like she’d just been offered the last seat in the last lifeboat to leave the Titanic.

  ‘You’re ten days overdue, Genevieve, what the hell are you doing all the way out here?’ Helen demanded as she glared at Don, a well-known local bushwalker.

  The contraction passed and Genevieve looked at her with apprehension in her eyes. ‘I was going stir crazy in the house. I had to do something to give the baby a prod. I thought a vigorous walk would stir things along. Oh…’ she wailed and clutched at Don’s sleeve as another pain swept through her. ‘I need to push…’ She doubled over.

  Helen and James looked at each other. Such a definite statement from a first-time mother was alarming.

  ‘I told her I didn’t think it was wise to come so far away,’ Don said, visibly paling at his wife’s distress. He looked as petrified as some of the wood in the nearby forest. As a botanist, he didn’t cope well with human conditions.

  ‘When did the contractions start?’ James asked, as a bystander offered them their picnic blanket and Helen helped her friend to the ground.

  ‘Call the ambulance,’ Helen said, looking blindly around and hoping someone in the crowd responded. She had a bad feeling this baby wasn’t going to wait. She had a worse feeling that help would be at least an hour away. If the baby did come and there were complications, Genevieve’s baby didn’t stand a chance.

  ‘We were only half an hour into our walk,’ Don said, answering for his wife who was bellowing through another contraction.

  ‘Oh, God! It’s coming!’ Genevieve yelled. ‘I have to push.’

  James looked at Helen. This was bad.

  ‘Have a look,’ James said to her out the corner of his mouth.

  He threw a towel over Genevieve’s drawn-up knees. ‘Do you think we can have some privacy, folks?’ James asked the gathering crowd, and was relieved when they broke away, even though every eye at the rock pool was still trained on them.

  Helen helped Genevieve off with her shorts and undies and took a quick peek beneath the towel. The baby’s head was right there.

  ‘She’s crowned,’ Helen told James in a low voice.

  ‘How may babies have you delivered?’

  Helen shrugged. ‘Hundreds.’

  OK. There was no time to transport Genevieve to the hospital and he was with a professional who easily out-delivered him. ‘Looks like this baby has its daddy’s genes and wants to be born among vegetation,’ James said to a panting Genevieve. ‘The head’s ready to deliver. Do you trust us?’

  Genevieve looked from one to the other. ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK, then.’ James smiled. ‘Push with the next contraction. Helen’s going to catch.’

  ‘What? No. I can’t believe this is happening,’ Don said, looking at Helen and James in disbelief. ‘We have to get her to hospital.’

  Helen took up position at the business end. ‘No time, Don. You’re about to meet your baby.’

  And in three pushes William Redmond Jacobs, all ten pounds of him, was born, bawling and furious at the world. His lusty cries split the suddenly eerily quiet air around the rock pool. There was a collective sigh and then a burst of applause.

  Helen caught him expertly and, satisfied with his condition, handed him immediately into the waiting arms of his impatient mother and father. Someone from the crowd handed Helen a clean dry towel and they covered the squawking newborn.

  James squeezed her hand and they smiled at each other as they watched Genevieve and Don stare in utter amazement at the perfectness of their son. The new parents were utterly entranced.

  James and Helen knew this was one child who was never going to feel unwanted.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GENEVIEVE’S baby took over the rest of the afternoon and, needless to say, they got through the day without ravishing each other. Helen accompanied the new mum as Don drove them back to Skye and James rode back alone, resigned to the fact it wasn’t going to happen between him and Helen. Helen was gaga over the baby and he knew she deserved someone better at the whole family thing than him.

  He remembered her saying she wanted children and he knew he couldn’t do that. Maybe someone like Tom could. Maybe someone else. But he knew one thing for sure, he didn’t know a damn thing about raising a happy child and he sure as hell had no plans to try.

  Weeks passed and they returned to their roles as flatmates with reasonable ease. The attraction he felt for her didn’t go away and he was damn sure it hadn’t evaporated for her either. Sometimes he caught her looking at him and there was such raw hunger in her jade eyes it took his breath away.

  But she, as promised, never once acted on it. Never even looked like she was wavering. ‘I’m an adult.’ That’s what she’d said and she had well and truly proved it. It was actually a good exercise for him in self-control. He’d never been in a situation before where he’d had to keep his libido in check. Pretty much any attraction he’d ever felt had been returned and well and truly acted on. Helen’s don’t-even-go-there aura was good practice for him should he ever be insane enough to hanker after someone else who could withstand his considerable charm.

  Consequently he did a lot of exploring over the next six weeks. He went away on his bike each weekend, discovering a different part of the local area. He usually took his swag and camped out under the stars, returning on Sunday evening in time for the regular trivia night.

  That just left the weekdays and nights to deal with. Thankfully work was always busy so although he saw a lot of her, it was impersonal with no time for exchanging longing looks. Nights were the most challenging. But curiously also the most rewarding. Even though it was torturous being near her and not being able to touch her, he loved her company.

  She was smart and funny and they’d read a lot of the same books and had the same taste in television. She was a veritable fount of information on the local area and helped him plan his jaunts. They both loved to cook and there was something very fulfilling about hanging out in the kitchen with her, drinking wine and cooking a meal.

  Before he knew it he’d been in Skye for three months. The agency h
e was with had been scouting out locum jobs further north and had secured him another four-month position in central Queensland. His leg was fully recovered and as hard as it was going to be to leave, he doubted he could stay any longer and not make a play for Helen. Only one month to go and it couldn’t come soon enough.

  ‘Your next patient is here, James.’

  Helen’s voice on the intercom stroked over his skin as vividly as the day she had touched his leg newly released from its fibreglass prison. He groaned inwardly. Every day of the next month was going to be hell.

  ‘Send him in.’

  He greeted Val and Joshua as they walked through his door a few seconds later and shut the door after them.

  James looked at the little blond-haired, blue-eyed boy that he’d saved from drowning. He looked none the worse for it. He had a really mischievous glint in his eyes and James had heard all about what a handful the lad was.

  He grinned at the boy. ‘Joshua, my man, what have you been up to this time?’

  ‘I have a ’sistent sniffle.’

  James noted the stream of clear mucus running from the boys left nostril and laughed. ‘That sounds bad.’

  ‘Persistent,’ Val said apologetically, pulling out a tissue and wiping her uncooperative son’s nose.

  Val looked stressed and tired. Exasperated. ‘How long has he had it?’ James asked, opening Josh’s substantial chart.

  Val’s brow furrowed. ‘About a week. But it’s really strange. It’s just one side. He hasn’t had a fever or a cough or even felt unwell. He’s been haring around at a million miles an hour into everything as usual.’

  James watched Josh as he ran a grubby-looking toy car along the edge of the desk, making brm noises.

  ‘His left eye is really watery all the time, too,’ Val continued. ‘I thought it was a cold and would go away, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s an allergy.’

  ‘Is he allergic to anything?’ James asked, flipping though the notes. Josh had produced another car and was crashing the two together, making smashing noises now.