‘So how have you been?’ Janet asked as they each took a seat.
Fliss made sure that her expression appeared relaxed and her words emerged calm. ‘I’m well, thanks. An old rodeo friend of Denham’s has been helping me get Bundara into shape. I even have a proper garden now.’
‘Your mother would be pleased. She loved her garden. It brought her so much peace.’
‘I’m finding it brings me peace as well.’
Janet leaned over and patted her hand. ‘Don’t forget Dr Sam’s always looking for another general practitioner if you ever find gardening isn’t enough.’
‘I won’t. I’m still taking my time to see what I’ll do next. I have some savings to tide me over for the short term.’
She pushed back a fresh swell of anxiety that was tinged with guilt. It was tough to attract, let alone keep, rural doctors in the bush. In the past month, the hospital had been without a permanently rostered-on doctor for two weekends. A visiting locum from Orange had covered the roster gaps but this was only a temporary solution as he would soon return to his family in Sydney.
The hospital didn’t only suffer from a lack of staff but also from an erosion of services. Fliss and Cressy had been born in Woodlea but babies could no longer be delivered at the hospital. Mothers-to-be either had to travel to Dubbo or Orange. Fliss had heard stories about babies being born in cars and even in the car park of a fast food restaurant when parents couldn’t reach the larger hospitals in time.
The hospital doors burst open and little feet pounded on the hard floor before a small body slid onto Fliss’s lap. Fliss laughed and put her arms around Zoe as the seven-year-old snuggled into her embrace. They’d spent many hours in such a position over the time Fliss would visit Zoe during her chemotherapy to read to her. Fliss kissed the top of Zoe’s blonde curls that always smelt like strawberries.
‘I think you’ve grown even more since I last saw you.’
Zoe leaned back and Fliss could see the healthy roundness of her face. ‘That’s what Dr Martin said. He also said I’m better.’
‘I know. He called me. And these …’ Fliss shifted in the seat so she could slide the balloons to the edge of the table, ‘are to celebrate.’
Zoe jumped off her lap to bat the closest balloon. The delight in her brown eyes made every balloon head-butt worth it. Fliss reached into her handbag and took out the wrapped present. ‘This is for you, too.’
Zoe’s grin widened as she sat next to Fliss to open her gift. Kellie walked through the hospital doorway and slipped the phone she’d been talking on into her bag. Kellie and Jason may have kept their happy news quiet but the loose lines of Kellie’s white shirt could no longer hide the pronounced contours of her stomach. When Zoe had been diagnosed with leukaemia, Kellie had miscarried their second baby that she and Jason had waited years for. Now they’d been blessed with another child and Zoe would have the brother or sister she’d always wanted.
A squeal drew Fliss’s attention back to the seven-year-old now hugging a book to her chest. ‘I haven’t read this one.’
The little cowgirl was horse-mad and her favourite series was about a group of girls who worked in the stables of a small town and solved mysteries.
‘It only came out last week.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, sweet pea.’
Zoe went to Kellie’s side and pulled a purple envelope from out of her mother’s black handbag. She passed it to Fliss. ‘I drew you another picture.’
‘Your other ones are on my fridge. Does this have a horse in it too?’
Her blonde head bobbed.
Fliss prised open the envelope and unfolded a drawing of two people riding horses. The person with dark hair rode a grey horse while the smaller figure, with yellow curly hair, rode a little and very round white pony. Zoe came to sit on Fliss’s lap and pointed to the picture. ‘This is us when we go on the trail ride.’
Fliss couldn’t suppress a surge of panic. The thought of being around people for all three days of the ride made her chest tighten, while the possibility that she’d be called upon to act in a medical emergency made her feel sick.
She took a moment to speak. ‘We look like we’re having fun.’
‘We are.’
‘Don’t forget, I need to ask Cressy if I can ride Jazz but she has sore knees so she mightn’t be able to go.’
‘You can ride Minty and I can ride Stella.’
Fliss touched the pony in the picture. ‘I’m not sure if Minty would like me riding him. My feet would touch the ground.’
Everyone laughed and to Fliss’s relief talk turned to the positive outcome of Zoe’s appointment with Dr Martin. Zoe’s yawns soon said it was time for her and Kellie to continue home. They’d left Sydney early to reach Woodlea by mid-morning. Fliss texted Hewitt to let him know she was ready to go whenever he was.
As Fliss waved and Zoe blew Fliss kisses from the car window, a diesel engine chugged as it climbed the hospital hill. It wasn’t long before Hewitt’s ute pulled up alongside her.
She slid into the passenger seat. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’ He gave her a slow grin.
The tension tightly bound within her loosened. Just like when her fingers had rested in his when they’d met, his smile reassured her. As strong as he was, he also seemed capable of empathy and softness.
She clicked in her seatbelt. But Hewitt shouldn’t make her feel … safe. Such a feeling was dangerous. She’d spent her life being independent. She wasn’t about to become needy, especially at a time when it was more important than ever to be in control.
His grey gaze swept over her face before he handed her a takeaway mug. ‘I thought you might need this. Tanner and I had a coffee and Sally at the café made your regular order.’
‘Thanks.’
She took hold of the cup, making sure her fingers didn’t brush his. She wasn’t taking any chances on chemistry blindsiding her. Thanks to the volatility of her emotions she was already far too aware of the cowboy beside her. She took a sip of the hot chocolate and savoured the sweetness.
‘Home?’
‘Yes, please. We can grab my groceries on the way.’
‘I’ve already got them.’ Hewitt took the road that would lead them out of town. ‘The girl behind the counter gave them to me.’
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but living in a small community where everyone knows your business isn’t always such a bad thing.’ Fliss relaxed into her seat. ‘If Tanner found you does that mean Edna did as well?’
‘Yes. Thanks for sending Tanner to find me.’
‘No worries. He’s a good guy.’
Hewitt glanced at her. She pushed aside the impression he was gauging whether there was anything between her and the blond drover. ‘So did Edna mention her daughter, Bethany?’
‘She did, but not to me. I was packing a parcel to send to Lizzie and Quinn, so I’m guessing she wasn’t sure if I was single or not.’
Fliss’s hold on her hot chocolate tightened and she took another sip to buy time before she answered. She’d assumed Hewitt was single and hadn’t even considered that he might have children. He didn’t wear a ring, but men in rural areas often didn’t for safety reasons when working around stock or machinery. Perhaps his relationship had broken down and that was why he’d come to hole up at Bundara? And if he had, there was no justification for feeling like something she’d been searching for had just moved further out of reach.
‘You can be sure she won’t rest until she finds out.’ Relieved her voice sounded normal, she risked a sideways glance at him. ‘Lizzie and Quinn are such cute names. Are they your kids?’
Hewitt flinched. He had no one but himself to blame for Fliss’s question. He’d opened the conversation door to the one thing he didn’t want to talk about. But even as he met Fliss’s gaze, he knew he’d answer.
He might have made it clear to Edna his personal life wasn’t open to discussion but when around Fliss his self-control
went into a freefall. A stronger man might have talked Fliss into driving his ute to town so they wouldn’t then spend the day together. But he hadn’t been that man.
The silence lengthened. Unsure of exactly what to say, he glanced at her. Her eyes were now more amber than hazel. The colour of her irises appeared to be a barometer for her emotions. He looked back at the road. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t always stop his own eyes from revealing his thoughts or feelings. He’d keep their conversation short and give her the condensed version.
‘They’re my niece and nephew. But … since my brother died … I’m looking out for them.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
The genuine compassion in her soft words caused his jaw to harden. He couldn’t let her empathy slide beneath his defences. ‘Thanks.’
When Fliss didn’t reply, or ask any further questions, he chanced another quick look at her. Expression solemn, she studied him.
‘Hewitt … I know you have your reasons for coming to stay and I don’t want to pry, but if you want to talk you know where I am.’
Dealing with Edna’s inquisition had been far less threatening than this brief, unobtrusive conversation with Fliss. Her genuine offer rattled the bars containing his emotions. She’d be someone who’d hear him out and not pass judgement. She’d be someone who’d really listen. Without thought, he rolled his shoulders to disperse the grief that never left him. Pain lanced through his upper arm and he fought to keep his expression from changing.
They passed the THANKS FOR VISITING WOODLEA sign but neither looked at it.
Fliss stared at the point of his shoulder. ‘I’m also here anytime you need medical advice.’
He ground his teeth. He’d been right to think she’d realised the full extent of his injury. ‘Is my bad shoulder that obvious?’
‘Only to me.’ She settled her takeaway mug in the ute console. ‘Motorbike accident?’
‘How did you know?’
‘You’re a country boy.’
Talking about broken bones was far easier than discussing Lizzie and Quinn. He matched Fliss’s light tone. ‘So I’m just a conformist?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I did a placement with the Royal Flying Doctors so saw that when it comes to motorbikes, most men who fall off are usually not wearing a helmet and are going too fast.’
‘Just to be different, I wasn’t going fast, and I’m pleading the Fifth Amendment about whether I was, or wasn’t, wearing a helmet.’
‘Next time, I hope you don’t have to plead the Fifth.’
‘There won’t be a next time. I need to set a good example for Quinn. I don’t want him ending up like me.’
‘Exactly.’ Fliss leaned over to take a closer look at his shoulder. ‘Did you fracture the scapula? That’s quite a hard bone to break.’
‘Yes, but it’s the side of my arm that gives me the most grief, especially if I lift anything.’
He thought Fliss was going to touch him but then her hands curled together in her lap. ‘Was anything said about your rotator cuff?’
‘No, because I knocked myself out, my arm wasn’t really a priority. I also left hospital as soon as I could.’
Fliss’s frown gave him a glimpse into her life as Dr Felicity Knight. He could imagine her levelling a stern look at a patient who’d failed to do the right thing. But along with her disapproval, he’d also seen concern in her eyes. Concern, he told himself, that wasn’t personal. The way she’d taken his duffle bag the afternoon he’d arrived, so he wouldn’t use his injured shoulder, told him that was just who Fliss was. She cared.
‘So when did this all happen?’
‘Six days ago.’
‘Six days?’ She shifted in her seat to face him. He didn’t need to take his attention from the road to know she again frowned. Her words were clipped. ‘And you’ve been at Bundara for three of those, where you haven’t exactly been taking it easy. Didn’t the hospital talk to you about what you should and shouldn’t be doing?’
‘They did but I’ve knocked myself out enough times to know what to keep an eye on. And as for my shoulder … I’ve had far worse broken bones.’
She shook her head. ‘No wonder you and Denham are such great mates. His medical history would fill a filing cabinet.’
‘Mine’s not that long, really. Being a pickup rider is much safer than being a bull rider.’
Even before he’d finished, his voice had deepened. He didn’t know if it was her offer that she was there if he needed to talk, or the way he’d felt comfortable discussing his shoulder, but words formed in his head. Words he hadn’t been able to say for almost a year. He spoke before he lost his nerve.
‘My twin brother … Brody … was a bull rider. That’s how we lost him.’
He thought he imagined Fliss’s light touch on his arm, until her fingers wrapped around his forearm and squeezed. Despite the comfort offered, he hesitated. He needed to keep his distance but he’d also come to Woodlea to deal with his grief. He owed it to Lizzie and Quinn to follow through. He’d start by getting to the end of his story, however much his heart broke.
‘I rode pickup for the saddle bronco event, but for the bull riding my pickup partner Seth brought in a new guy to show him the ropes. Usually in bull riding it’s the rodeo clown who keeps the cowboys safe. We just steer a bull out of the arena if it doesn’t go quietly. Brody had drawn a rank bull so I wanted to see him ride before I stabled my mare.’ He cleared his throat. ‘When he came off … no one else seemed to read the bull like I did … I don’t even remember getting the arena gate open, all I remember is galloping to get between Brody and the bull … but I was too—’
He couldn’t finish. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his shoulder burned. This time when Fliss’s hand curled around his forearm, the warmth of her touch stayed.
‘It wasn’t your fault.’
He glanced at her, even knowing his anguish would be carved into every stiff line of his face. ‘I should have realised what that bull was capable of earlier. I should have reached Brody sooner.’
Fliss’s wide, dark eyes mirrored his pain. ‘All of those things don’t make what happened to your brother your fault. We can only do what we can and have faith that we did the best we could. And we have to hold on to that faith.’
The emotions writhing inside him made it impossible to reply. He broke eye contact to scowl at the road.
‘Hewitt,’ Fliss spoke again, her tone almost fierce. ‘That’s what we have to do. I know … because I have to do it, too.’
Her hand lifted from his arm and as he glanced at her the skin of her throat rippled as she swallowed.
‘I … lost a patient. That’s why I’m here. Caitlyn was twenty-three, pregnant with her first child, and had her whole life ahead of her. All she was doing was crossing the road to meet her husband for dinner, when a drunk driver hit her. I was able to save baby Jemma but … Caitlyn … didn’t make it.’
Hewitt reached for Fliss’s hand that was latched onto her seatbelt in a death-grip. She’d offered him physical comfort and he’d do the same, even if she didn’t accept the gesture. To his surprise, Fliss released the seatbelt to link her fingers with his. Her delicate bones were at odds with the strength that tilted her chin.
‘Medical training doesn’t exactly teach you how to deal with loss or how to deliver news that will change a family’s future forever. I’ve lost patients before, and while I’ve grieved for each of them, they were all … expected. Caitlyn’s death was unexpected and so unfair. It hit me hard.’
Hewitt nodded and, when her grip on his hand tightened, he let Fliss keep talking.
‘But that’s the thing, isn’t it … life isn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people.’ A deep resignation and sadness drained the vitality from her voice. ‘The reality is, I can’t control everything.’
‘I can’t imagine what you and Caitlyn’s family went through.’ He brushed his thumb across the smooth skin of the back of her hand. ‘But I do know you wo
uld have done all that you could have to save your patient. Cressy and Denham both say what a committed doctor you are.’ He gave a brief grin to ease the strain. ‘Denham would actually say too committed a doctor. You follow up on everything.’
As he’d hoped, Fliss’s fingers relaxed and a small smile shaped her mouth before she slipped her hand free. ‘With Denham that usually meant at least two phone calls to make sure he even went near a hospital when he was injured on the American pro-rodeo circuit.’
‘That sounds like Denham.’
‘Let’s just hope now he’s home, and with Cressy, his hospital visits will be few and far between.’ Fliss’s voice had returned to normal and when she looked at him her face was composed. ‘I bet Lizzie and Quinn are great kids.’
‘They are. Lizzie’s organised, loves animals and her bedroom’s always tidy. She gives the best hugs. Quinn’s a few minutes younger and while he doesn’t say much he’s a deep thinker. He’s very busy and is happiest digging in the sandpit or riding his PeeWee motorbike.’ Hewitt paused as emotion thickened his words. ‘I’d do anything for them.’
‘You must be missing them. They’re welcome to visit anytime; there’s plenty of room in the house.’
‘Thanks, I am missing them, but I need to use this time while my shoulder heals to say goodbye to Brody. Then I can get back to taking care of them and Ava just like he would have.’
‘I understand.’
Fliss folded her arms and stared out the side window, weariness bowing her shoulders. She didn’t need to tell him that she had a similar journey. She needed to find peace after the trauma of losing her patient.
Hewitt slowed the ute as he turned off the bitumen and onto the dirt road. The drive home hadn’t been as impersonal as the trip into Woodlea. Regret crawled through him. What had possessed him to talk so much? He’d just bared his soul to a woman he’d only met three days ago and who, until today, had made sure they interacted as little as possible.
In the distance he could see the white wooden frame of the one-lane bridge but the knowledge they’d soon be at Bundara didn’t bring any relief.
So much for keeping to himself and not crossing the emotional line. He hadn’t just stepped over it, he’d catapulted himself across it, like the pebbles he and Brody used to fire from their homemade slingshots. And now, somehow, he had to find a way back.
The Red Dirt Road Page 4
