by Anne Fraser
‘Now you can go sit.’ Susie instructed, and pointed to where Mia should go.
‘Thanks, Susie.’ She walked fifty metres and sat down again.
Flynn bent down next to her, his breath caressing her ear. With a mighty effort she held her head erect despite the temptation to lean toward him.
He spoke quietly so only she could hear. ‘Take your hat off so the bad spirits can leave you.’
Bad spirits? Her breath caught in her throat. Surely he couldn’t know what lurked inside her? She pulled the hat into her lap.
Susie approached her, holding smoking green leaves from the ironwood tree. Waving them over Mia’s head, she chanted in Kirri, touching her head and her shoulders firmly with her hands.
Mia closed her eyes, letting the smoke waft around her, desperately wanting to believe that the smouldering leaves and a foreign language could remove from her the illness that dogged her family. The illness that had taken her mother and brother from her.
Knowing full well it would have no effect at all.
She breathed in long, slow breaths, pushing away the thoughts that permanently hovered close by, and willed herself to focus on the here and now. She tried to take life one day at a time and grasp every opportunity that came her way, but it wasn’t always easy.
Opening her eyes, she looked around as fifteen dancers with their dark skins decorated moved in front of her, swaying to the beat of the clapping sticks.
‘Crocodile dance, Mia.’ Walter led a group of men in their dreaming dance, followed by a group of children.
‘Rainbow Serpent dance!’ Susie enthusiastically stamped her feet with her arms outstretched.
‘This is amazing.’ Mia’s throat tightened as each group danced for her, showing their thanks.
‘It’s pretty special, isn’t it?’ Flynn’s voice had a reverent quality to it that she’d not heard before.
Walter stopped in front of them. ‘Flynn, you do the turtle dance, turtle man.’
Mia’s head snapped around. ‘Turtle man?’
Flynn shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s a long story.’ He lurched to his feet, his face creased in a huge smile and he joined the dancing throng.
White skin flashed pale against the black but the dance didn’t differentiate colour. It accepted whoever chose to honour it. Voices merged as the song soared into the hot air, the joy of the dance evident on everyone’s faces.
Mia couldn’t help it, her eyes zeroed in on Flynn, so much a part of this group. How many sides were there to this man? Doctor, pilot, teacher, advocate and now ‘turtle man’.
Flynn came toward her, stamping his feet, waving his arms, his black stubbled cheeks giving him the look of a powerful warrior. Her heart pounded hard and fast, but she felt no fear from the man, only fear for herself as need and longing swirled inside her.
He stood above her tall and commanding. ‘Come on, Walter and I will teach you the whirlwind dance.’
She shaded her eyes from the sun so she could see his face. ‘Why the whirlwind dance?’
Walter laughed. ‘Because since you’ve come to Kirra you’ve been a whirlwind.’ He danced away, showing her the moves.
Flynn’s large suntanned hands hovered in front of her, emanating strength, with tendons flexed and ready to pull her to her feet.
She hesitated, knowing she should rise from the earth on her own, but the temptation to touch him overwhelmed her and she slid her hands into his. These were not soft-palmed city hands. Yet his calloused grip closed over her with a tenderness she hadn’t expected. Tantalising heat whirled through her, easily stripping away her intentions of only thinking about Flynn in terms of a doctor and teacher.
She gazed straight up at him and the noise of the dance receded as she lost herself in golden brown eyes the colour of maple syrup.
The moment drew out—his hands still holding hers, his heat flitting along her veins, both intoxicating and energising. With a firm but gentle tug, she rose to her feet, her mind and body spinning with newly discovered need.
Finally she found her voice. ‘Thank you.’
An unusual huskiness clung to the words as he let go of her hands. ‘No problem.’
Yes, big problem.
It was impossible to feel cold on Kirra but her palms ached with an unfamiliar chill. She instinctively clapped her hands together, joining Walter in the dance. Dancing the whirlwind to gain control.
Dancing the whirlwind to lock down the maelstrom of emotions that one brief look and touch from Flynn could unleash.
Dancing to forget.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE short flight between islands had been uneventful in the glorious conditions of late-afternoon winter sunshine. It didn’t matter how many times he flew, Flynn never lost the feeling of complete awe when he caught site of Kirra. Ringed by aquamarine sea, edged by red and white sand, and dominated by the lush green of the canopy of trees, its naturally occurring tearshape looked like paradise.
Pity about the crocodiles, mantra rays and the snakes.
He lined the plane up with the Kirra airstrip and brought the Cessna down easily, thankful there were no gusting crosswinds. They’d come soon enough as the wet season approached. The moment the front wheels bounced on the tarmac, he opened the window to let in a breeze because the tiny plane was like a hotbox once it was on the ground.
He taxied down toward the gate, catching sight of the clinic ute barrelling along the gravel road in front of him, a plume of dust streaming out behind it. A honey-tanned arm waved to him.
Mia.
For the last few days he’d been busy running clinics on the other islands. Usually his mind was completely focussed on the place he was working on, dealing with that community’s issues, and giving scant thought to the other islands. But during the few quiet times on Mugur and Barra his mind had wandered back to Kirra and the ceremony. Back to Mia.
Back to the touch of Mia’s hands in his. Back to the flickering shadows in her eyes. Back to the way she’d given herself up to the whirlwind dance as if she’d been shedding part of her soul.
He’d watched her dance and deep inside him something had ached.
But he wasn’t thinking about that.
Whatever had caused those shadows was her secret. Everyone who came this far north had secrets. He didn’t want to know and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. Asking questions meant involvement. Asking questions opened him up to having questions asked back so he didn’t do that any more. Getting involved meant getting hurt so the only way he got involved in people’s lives now, was as their doctor.
Mia’s secrets belonged to her and he intended to let her keep them.
He turned off the ignition and logged his times in the logbook. Then he grabbed his backpack, locked the plane and walked around toward the gate.
Mia leaned against the low fence, her long, blonde hair blowing out behind her as she fanned herself with her hat.
Every nerve ending fired off a volley of hot and hard need that swooped through him, leaving no place untouched.
Her rigid stance of two weeks ago had completely vanished. Instead, an aura of relaxation shimmered around her. In the place of neat and fitted cargo shorts with a blouse tucked in at the waist, she wore a simple island print dress that fell from her shoulders, the green and blue intersecting lines giving way to a band of yellow and red turtles that hovered around her knees. Cut for comfort, designed for coolness, it should have hung like a sack.
But the oncoming breeze blew it against her, outlining pert breasts, a slim waist and toned thighs. A supple body designed for touching.
Don’t go there. He started mentally reciting the names of the bones in the body, driving some blood back to his brain from the pool in his groin. By the time he reached her, he could make coherent conversation.
He raised his brows. ‘You’ve gone native on me?’
She laughed, the shadows in her eyes lifting for a moment. ‘I know it’s not regulation uniform but a baby vomited all over me. I figured you�
��d prefer to share the truck with me in Susie’s spare dress than in my uniform, which reeks of curdled milk.’
‘You’ve got me pegged.’ He grinned at her. ‘It might not be uniform but it suits you.’
She gripped the dress by the side seams and held it out as she glanced down at the fabric as if she was looking at it for the first time. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ The word came out overly low despite his attempt at making it sound casual.
She flicked her gaze up, her eyes shimmering like the sea. A flash of yearning, a flare of naked need broke through the shadows for a moment before receding. His blood pounded.
Work, think of work. He spun around and walked briskly to the truck. ‘Anything happen this week that I need to know about?’
Silence met his question. He turned to see Mia walking toward him, her hips swaying in response to her relaxed gait.
She’d found her island time.
She shot him a teasing look. ‘You’re city-wired today.’
Laughter rumbled from deep inside him as she used his own words against him. ‘And you’re acclimatising.’
She shrugged and gave him a self-deprecating grin. ‘The whirlwind’s been downgraded to a light breeze. Here, catch. I’ve been driving all day.’ She tossed him the keys and hopped into the truck. ‘I even gave up on the immunisation clinic idea. Instead I had a sausage sizzle and fruit festa and I ended up immunising more children than I had on my initial list.’
He swung up next to her. ‘Good for you.’ He couldn’t get over the change in her. Not only was she more relaxed, she almost glowed with good health. Perhaps the shadows in her eyes had just been fatigue and not secrets after all. Not that he cared either way. He was just glad for her that after a few weeks away from the stress of city living she’d found her niche.
He turned the truck around and headed back toward town. ‘So what’s been happening?’
She tucked her hair back from her face. ‘I’m still experimenting with the bread idea. Jimmy is my chief taste-tester.’
He caught a waft of her tropical perfume and gripped the wheel. ‘How’s his wound?’
‘Healing really well. Do you want another set of liver-function tests and electrolytes just as a final roundup before he’s officially discharged off the books?’
‘That’s probably a good idea considering the history of kidney disease on the island.’ He had to concentrate on keeping his eyes on the road rather than snatching glances at Mia.
‘Oh, and we had a brawl and I had to stitch a few people.’
Startled, he swung his head around so quickly his neck ricked. Her matter-of-fact tone almost implied she’d added that fact in as an afterthought.
Were you safe? His heart jumped as the unexpected thought rammed through him, pushing aside his usual and immediate need to know about the patients. Completely disconcerting him.
He tried to sound casual as he stared at the road. ‘Was Robbo around?’ The policeman had a large territory and he wasn’t always in town when trouble broke out.
She twisted her hair up off her neck and slid in a wide comb to hold it in place. ‘Yes, and he dealt with it all very quickly.’
Relief spread through him. ‘Good.’ The word came out crisp, clean and professional. The doctor in him was back in control and all was well in his world. ‘Who was hurt?’
She crossed her legs, and her dress moved up, exposing a honey-tanned thigh.
He gripped the wheel more tightly.
Mia tugged at her hem. ‘No one you would know. Six young blokes from Brisbane flew in for a few days’ fishing. They got into a fight with a couple of local lads over some women. I stitched them up, wrote a referral letter to their doctors and Robbo sent two of them back to Darwin and warned the others. It’s all been very quiet since.’
He smiled at her. ‘It sounds like you’re well and truly finding your feet and you didn’t miss me at all.’
What are you saying? He hadn’t flirted with a woman in two years so why was he starting now?
‘Actually, I did miss you.’ The words vibrated deeply around the cab of the truck.
The wheels hit a pothole he’d been planning to miss. He snatched another look at her face, trying to match the statement with her expression.
Cornflower-blue eyes sparkled. ‘I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since you left.’ She touched a reddened area on the back of her hand. ‘That coffee-machine of yours hates me and spits steam at me. I don’t think I could have waited another day for you to get back because my lack of caffeine is giving me the shakes.’
A rush of lightness streaked through him and he had a crazy desire to hum. He grinned, enjoying her sense of humour. ‘Forget all about saving lives, it’s good to know I’m missed for something really important.’
‘Coffee is important.’ Her face dissolved into deep laughter lines in complete contrast to the serious tone of her voice, and she giggled like a young girl.
He laughed with her as warmth spread through him like a rising sun sending out its rays, slowly waking up parts of him that had slumbered for too long. This woman had more facets to her than a crystal.
Suddenly she gripped the doorhandle, her knuckles white. ‘Stop the truck. Now!’
Her voice sharp and furious sliced through him and he instantly jammed on the brakes. ‘What’s wr—?’
But she’d jumped out of the still-moving truck and was running through the scrub, dodging cycads, their silver fronds glinting in the sun. He caught a flash of colour and realised that a Kirri teenager was pulling back away from a non-Kirri man whose hand tightly gripped her upper arm.
‘Hey!’ Mia’s shout blew back to him on the wind.
The man swung around to face Mia, his balance unsteady, his expression surprised. His free hand held a shotgun.
Flynn saw the gun at the same moment the truck stopped. Fear for Mia’s safety gripped the pit of his stomach as acid shot into it. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to run, ready to fight, ready to knock Mia out of harm’s way. But instinct overruled impulse. Accosting a man who held a gun and who looked high on an unknown substance would put Mia and the girl in more danger than they already were.
The man’s grip must have loosened on the girl’s arm at Mia’s shout because she suddenly ducked and weaved behind Mia, before breaking into a run and disappearing into the bush.
Flynn’s chest tightened as if a steel band had closed around his ribcage. How would the man react now the girl had fled? With his eyes glued to the scene he radioed the police.
As he slipped quietly out of the truck, Flynn heard Mia speak, her voice remarkably steady. ‘I thought you were here to fish, Joel?’
Flynn realised this must be one of the fishing tourists.
Joel staggered toward Mia. ‘That’s right, sweetheart.’ His slurred words tumbled over each other.
Mia stood perfectly still. ‘This is a long way from the water and too close to town to hunt.’ Her head inclined towards the gun.
Joel looked down at his hand as if the gun was something he wasn’t expecting to be holding. ‘I came in for some…’ He scratched his head. ‘Supplies.’
She kept her hands open and her arms hanging loosely by her sides. ‘You’re looking a bit hot and tired. I’ve got some water in the truck. Would you like a drink?’
That was Flynn’s entrée into the situation. He grabbed the water bottles and walked slowly toward Mia and Joel, the bottles in front of him, clearly in view.
Joel’s unfocussed gaze wandered from Mia to Flynn. ‘Have you got any beer, mate?’
Now didn’t seem the time to remind Joel it was illegal to have alcohol on Kirra except in the club. He adopted the conspiratorial tone of two blokes on a mission. ‘I can take you into town for some.’ He handed over a water bottle.
‘Yeah? Good. At least I can go back to the boys with beer. The girl got away.’ He leered at Mia and then rubbed his eyes as if that would help improve his focus.
Flynn caught th
e pinprick size of his pupils and wondered if he’d consumed more than just beer.
Tension lined Mia’s face but her voice sounded conversational. ‘I’m boiling. Let’s get into the cool of the truck.’
Placing himself firmly between Mia and Joel, Flynn made sure they all turned together, making their way back to the vehicle. ‘So, have you caught any barramundi?’ Flynn tried to sound as normal as possible, his eyes fixed on the gun.
But Joel remained silent, concentrating on the seemingly difficult task of putting one foot in front of the other.
Mia walked next to him, the scent of her fear mixing with her perfume. He knew how she felt. The unpredictability of the man made every moment like walking through a minefield, never knowing if or when the bomb would go off.
As they reached the truck, Flynn pointed to the gun box and prayed his gambit would work. ‘I’ll stow your gun in the back for safekeeping.’ He could feel Mia’s penetrating gaze behind him and he knew exactly what the target was.
Joel’s brow furrowed as he processed the statement. He slowly raised the gun, his hand close to the trigger.
Flynn held his breath, not daring to look away from Joel. Wanting desperately to look at Mia.
‘There you go, mate.’ Joel pushed the gun into his hands.
‘Thanks.’ Flynn locked his knees against the desire to sag against the truck. He immediately uncocked the gun, checking for ammunition before laying it in the gun box. A red cartridge full of shot lay inside the barrel. His gut churned acid into his throat at what might have been.
The roar of an engine made them all turn. A white four-wheel-drive police vehicle pulled up next to them. Robbo hopped out. ‘Need a hand, Flynn?’
Relief flooded him. ‘That would be great. I’ve got a customer for you. And I think you might want to talk to Lizzie Wonterrgerra later to see if she wants to lay a complaint about this man.’
Five minutes later Robbo drove back to town with Joel in the back of the vehicle. Flynn had promised to call by the police lockup and do a physical examination before Joel and his mates were put on a plane back to the mainland.
Running his hand through his hair, he turned to Mia, his fear finally finding voice. ‘What possessed you to run into a potentially violent situation? You could have been killed!’
