Читать книгу The Australian's Proposal - Алисон Робертс - Страница 8

‘OKAY, THAT’S ABOUT as clean as I can get it without actually removing the bullet,’ Hamish announced. ‘I’d like to go in and get it, but without X-rays to show us exactly where it is and where I’d have to cut, I wouldn’t risk it. You’re also losing a fair bit of blood, Jack. Had any problems with bleeding before?’

Jack ignored the question, closing his eyes as if the effort of talking to Kate had exhausted him.

Which it might have, though Hamish was thinking otherwise.

‘At least, doing it back at the hospital, we’ll have blood on hand should you need it. The helicopter will be back at first light, and we’ll have you in Theatre in Crocodile Creek a couple of hours later.’

Jack’s eyes opened at that, and he tried to sit up straighter.

‘Shouldn’t I go to Cairns? Or what about Townsville? That has a bigger hospital, doesn’t it?’

‘Bigger but not better,’ Hamish told him. ‘Besides, it’s too far for a chopper flight. Something about Crocodile Creek bothering you? We don’t really have crocodiles in the creek—well, not where it flows past the hospital.’

Jack didn’t answer, but turned his head away, as if not seeing Hamish might remove him from the cave.

And the prospect of a trip to Crocodile Creek …

Hamish watched Kate bend to speak quietly to the young man, no doubt reassuring him he’d have the very best of treatment at Crocodile Creek, but Hamish was becoming more and more certain that Jack had reasons of his own for avoiding that particular hospital.

But how to confirm what he was thinking?

He walked around to the other side and squatted beside the open pack, delving through it for what he needed. Then, from this side, he looked directly at Jack.

‘I’ll add some pain relief to the fluid now, so you should be feeling more comfortable before long, and then I guess we should do the paperwork. You up for that, Kate? Did you see the initial assessment forms in the pack?’

Kate’s frown told him she disapproved of the change in his attitude from friendly banter to practical matter-of-factness, but she didn’t know about a feud between two neighbouring families up here in the north, or the connection of one family to the hospital. Or about a baby called Lucky who was now called Jackson who had a form of haemophilia known as von Willebrand’s disease.

Or about the search for the baby’s father—a young man called Jack.

‘I’ve got them here,’ she said, putting ice into her words in case he hadn’t caught the frown.

‘Then fill them out. You and Jack can manage all the personal stuff then I’ll do the medication and dosages when you get down to that section. And while you’re doing it, I’ll take a look around to see if there’s a patch of clear ground from which we can winch Jack up in the morning.’

He found a stronger torch in the equipment backpack, turned it on and walked away, hoping his absence might help Jack speak more freely. If he’d talk to anyone, it would be to Kate. Nothing like a baring of souls to create a bond between people. But had she really been through so much emotional trauma or had she made it all up to keep Jack talking? He had no idea, which wasn’t surprising, but what did surprise him was that he wanted to find out.

Hell’s teeth! He’d been in Australia for nearly two years, and while he’d enjoyed some mild flirtations and one reasonably lengthy and decidedly pleasant relationship, he’d remained heart-whole and fancy-free. So now, three weeks before he was due to return home, was hardly the time to be developing an interest in a woman.

Yet his mind kept throwing up the image of his first sight of her, a slight figure, dressed all in brown, except for those ridiculous purple sandals, standing in the gloomy hallway, with a stray sunbeam probing through the fretwork breezeway above the door and turning the tips of her loose brown curls to liquid gold.

‘Is he a good doctor?’ Jack asked, when Hamish had disappeared into the darkness.

Kate looked in the direction Hamish had taken, but already she could see nothing but inky blackness beyond the glow of the lamp.

‘I’ve just started work so I don’t know, but from the way he treated you I’d have to say he is.’

Jack closed his eyes and lay in silence for a while, but just when Kate had decided he’d drifted off to sleep he opened his eyes again and looked at her.

‘So you don’t know anything about the hospital?’ he asked.

‘Not a thing, except its reputation is excellent. Apparently the boss, Charles Wetherby, insists on hiring top-class staff and only buying the best equipment, so it has a name for being far in advance of most country hospitals.’

But her words failed to reassure Jack, who had not only closed his eyes but had now folded his lips into a straight line of worry.

Seeking to divert him, she pulled out the pad of assessment forms.

‘You must be tired, but before you drop off to sleep, how about we fill this out. There aren’t many questions.’

Jack opened his eyes and looked directly at her.

‘I should have died,’ he said, then he closed his eyes again and turned his head away, making it unmistakably clear that the conversation was over.

‘Full name?’ Kate asked hopefully. ‘Address? Come on, Jack, we have to do this.’

But the young man had removed himself from her—not physically, but mentally—cutting the link she’d thought she’d forged when they’d played their ‘whose life sucks the most’ game earlier.

She lifted his wrist and checked his pulse then wrote the time and the rate on the form. She filled in all the other parts she could, remembering Jack’s initial respiration rate, systolic blood pressure—she’d taken that herself before Hamish had started the second drip—and pulse, writing times and numbers, wondering about all the unanswered questions at the top of the form.

‘Asleep?’

Hamish’s quiet question preceded him into the light. She stood up, careful not to disturb their patient, and moved a little away.

‘He wasn’t—just closed his eyes to avoid answering me—but I think he’s genuinely asleep now. I’ve just checked him. His pulse is steadier but his systolic blood pressure hasn’t changed as much as I’d have thought it would, considering the fluid we’re giving him. Do you think there could be internal bleeding somewhere?’

‘It’s likely, and though I’ve sutured part of the wound and put a pressure pad on it, I’d say it’s still bleeding.’

‘That’s more than a guess, isn’t it?’ Kate looked up at the man who sounded so concerned. They’d moved out of the lamplight, but a full moon had risen and was shedding soft, silvery light into the gorge.

‘It’s a long story but we’ve time ahead of us. If you dig into the equipment backpack you’ll find a space blanket to wrap around Jack—there should be a couple of inflatable pillows in there as well. Put one under his feet and one behind his head and cover him with the blanket while I get a cuppa going and find something for us to eat.’

‘And then you’ll tell me?’

Hamish smiled, but it was a grim effort.

‘I’ll tell you what I’m guessing.’

Kate cupped her hands around the now empty mug and looked out at the broad leaves of the cabbage palms that filled the gorge. Hamish’s story of a newborn baby found at a rodeo, the dramatic efforts that had saved his life, the finding of his dangerously ill mother, and the fight to save her life, was the stuff of television medicine, while feuding neighbours and heart attacks turned it into soap opera.

Maybe she’d got it wrong.

She turned to Hamish, sitting solidly beside her at the entrance to the cave.

‘So you think Jack is Charles Wetherby’s nephew, sacked from the family property, run by Charles’s brother Philip, for consorting with the Cooper girl, daughter of the Wetherbys’ sworn enemies who live next door. And you’ve put all this together because his wound is bleeding and you think he has von Willebrand’s disease.’

‘Lucky—the baby—has von Willebrand’s disease and it runs through the Wetherby family,’ Hamish said patiently. ‘Originally, back when Lucky was found, Charles had no idea his nephew had been working at Wetherby Downs, because Charles and Philip rarely spoke to each other. But since Jim Cooper was admitted to hospital with a heart attack, Charles has been anxious about the Coopers’ property and that forced him to speak to Philip—’

‘Who told him about Jack and Megan—OK, I get that bit,’ Kate assured him. ‘And the family feud—I can understand that. But if Jack is Charles’s nephew, and Charles and Philip don’t get on, why’s Jack so against going to hospital at Crocodile Creek? It’s a good uncle and bad uncle scenario—like good cop and bad cop. You’d think he’d be happy to be under his good uncle’s care. Family does count, you know.’

Before the words were fully out, she knew they were a mistake. She didn’t need to look at Hamish to know those darned expressive eyebrows of his would be on the rise.

‘Look,’ she told him, wishing she was standing up and a little further away from him but resigned to making the best of things. ‘The story I told Jack—well, that comes under the heading of nurse-patient confidentiality so, please, pretend you never heard it and don’t you dare breathe so much as a word of it to anyone. I went back to work for a week after my mother died, and if one more person had put their arm around me or thrown me a “poor Kate” look, I tell you, I’d have slit their throat with the nearest scalpel. Stuff happens, and you have to move on. I’ve moved on, and that’s it.’

He nodded but didn’t speak. In the end she had to prompt him.

‘So why’s Jack worried about going to Crocodile Creek?’

‘He has a bullet in his leg.’

Kate turned to frown at the man beside her.

‘This is the bush. Out here, from what I’ve heard, people tote guns all the time. They shoot things—wild pigs and water buffalo and snakes. From the evidence of road signs on the drive up, they even shoot road signs. So he shot himself, gun going off as he climbed through a fence—isn’t that what happens? Or maybe Digger shot him by accident.’

‘So where’s Digger now? If he shot Jack by accident, why would he call for help then disappear?’

‘Because he had to be elsewhere. Had to take his cattle to market or organise a rodeo. I’m a city girl, how would I know where he had to be?’

She saw the glimmer of white teeth as Hamish smiled, but the cheerful expression passed quickly.

‘Outback people aren’t like that. They don’t desert their mates. And Jack’s worried about being disinherited for something that’s happened since his uncle sacked him. My guess is he met up with some unsavoury characters—no doubt innocently, he’s a city kid too, remember—and when he realised something was wrong, he tried to leave.’

‘And someone shot him? To stop him leaving? Someone who’s out there? With a gun?’

Kate must have sounded more panicky than she’d realised, for Hamish put a comforting arm around her shoulders and drew her close. It was probably a ‘poor Kate’ kind of hug and she should have been reaching for a scalpel, but the heavy arm was exceedingly comforting so she let it stay there—even snuggled a little closer.

Not a good idea as far as the immunity was concerned. She unsnuggled and thought a little more about Hamish’s hypothesis.

‘What kind of unsavoury characters might you have out here?’

‘Cattle duffers.’

‘Stupid cattle?’

Hamish laughed.

‘Cattle thieves. They steal cattle from properties in the area. These properties are the size of small countries so their boundaries can’t be watched all the time. The duffers keep the cattle somewhere safe—this gorge would be ideal—until they can alter the brands, then truck them to the markets.’

‘So Jack meets these guys who say come and steal some cattle with us and he does?’ She turned to study their sleeping patient for a moment. ‘He doesn’t look that dumb.’

Hamish turned to look as well, bringing his body closer.

‘No, but say he meets a couple of guys at a pub, and their story is that they’re droving a mob of cattle to a railhead. Something like that. Jack joins, thinking they’re OK, then slowly works out there’s something wrong. I’d say he recognised his uncle’s brand on some of the cattle. He tries to leave and the boss, who’s about to reap a good reward for his thievery, tries to stop him.’

‘With a bullet?’

Bother the immunity. Kate scooted back to snuggle position by Hamish’s side.

‘They play for keeps.’ He tucked his arm back around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. ‘It’s my guess he didn’t shoot to kill the kid. In his mind, that gave Jack a chance of survival and himself time to get the cattle away from here. Jack was lucky the second guy, Digger, had a conscience.’

‘That does explain Jack’s concern, but surely if he went into the job innocently, he can’t be charged with cattle … What was the word you used?’

‘Duffing.’

Kate nodded. ‘I like it. Cattle duffing. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it? Not quite as nasty as stealing.’

‘Apparently it’s gone on ever since Australia was first settled, but that doesn’t make it right, or legal. No, our Jack will be in trouble. For a start, we have to report bullet wounds to the police.’

‘But if he’s the father of the baby, and we know he loves the girl because he told us so, then it’s not very lucky for Lucky if his father’s in jail. We’ll have to get him off the charge. Don’t people get a second chance? Or if he’s responsible for the police catching the duffers, won’t he be rewarded, not punished? Perhaps we could help catch the duffers?’

‘Well, that gives me hope,’ Hamish said.

Kate shifted reluctantly away from him so she could turn and look into his face.

‘Hope for what? What kind of hope?’

He grinned at her.

‘Well, I thought earlier you’d only come closer to me because you were worried about a gunman lurking out there somewhere, but if you’re brave enough to take on a couple of armed desperados, then I guess you were cuddling up to me because you like me.’

He touched her lightly on the head, lifting one of her curls and twirling it around his finger.

Dangerous territory, finger twirls in hair that felt very … comforting?

Kate took a deep breath, sorted her thoughts into order, shifted out of hair-twirling distance and tried to explain.

‘I do like you, what little I know of you, but I meant what I said about immunity, Hamish. Coming to Crocodile Creek is the first stage in getting on with my life. My birth mother came from here and I want to find out more about her—and who my father was. At the moment, I’m lost. Everything I believed in—the very foundations of my life, even love—proved to be a lie and right now I need to find some truths. Something to rebuild on. Can you understand that?’

He nodded, then stared out into the gorge for a few minutes before saying, ‘I could help you, Kate. Everyone at the hospital would help you. Some of the staff have lived in Crocodile Creek all their lives.’

‘No!’

The word came out far more strongly—and more loudly—than she’d intended, and she turned automatically to see if she’d disturbed Jack. He was still sleeping peacefully, so she repeated the word more quietly this time.

‘No, Hamish. I know you mean well, but this is something I have to do myself.’

She’d edged further away from him and Hamish knew she was withdrawing behind whatever feeble defences she’d been able to build up since her callous brother and unfaithful rat of a fiancé had delivered their separate but equally devastating blows. He could understand her reluctance to accept help because accepting help meant getting close to the helper, and right now, with everything she’d ever trusted in stripped away from her, getting close to someone wasn’t an option.

‘OK,’ he conceded. ‘But just remember, if ever you need anything at all, a little help, a hug—especially a hug—I’ll be there for you.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, but Hamish knew there was no way she’d be coming to him for a hug. She’d felt the same chemistry he had between them and hugs plus chemistry equalled trouble for a woman who claimed to be immune to love and who was fresh out of trust.

‘I’ll check our patient, then we should try to get some sleep,’ he said, standing up and moving back into the cave. ‘There are a couple more of those space blankets in the pack. It could get cold towards morning.’

Grateful to have something to do, Kate also stood. She’d noticed a couple more packs of the flimsy silver sheets they called space blankets when she’d pulled one out to cover Jack. She was aware they prevented heat loss from the body but was dubious about how warm they’d be if the night grew cold. Still, it was something to do and having something to do was important because it stopped her thinking about the mess her life was in. She’d talked bravely to Hamish of having to do this on her own, but it was the aloneness of her situation—the total stripping away of all she’d believed to be true—that frightened her the most. Far more than a man with a gun somewhere out there in the darkness of the gorge.

Hamish was attaching a new bag of fluid to one of Jack’s IV lines. He nodded towards the blood-stained bandage.

‘I’m just hoping it’s not running out faster than it runs in.’

‘Should we give him a clotting agent of some kind—or don’t the packs carry such things?’

‘They contain Thrombostat, which is topical thrombin. I put some on when I was dressing the wound. Because of Lucky, everyone at the hospital knows a lot more about von Willebrand’s disease than most non-specialist physicians would but I don’t know as much as I’d like to know. I know some coagulants work for some haemophilic patients and not others, depending on the missing blood factor in their particular disease. I wouldn’t like to try anything on him without checking a pharmacology text for contraindications or complications …’

He paused and sighed, but Kate understood his dilemma.

‘You don’t want to take the risk,’ she finished for him. ‘Well, hopefully the thrombin will work well enough to stop some of the bleeding.’

‘Externally!’ Hamish reminded her, hanging the second fresh bag of fluid. ‘Internally we haven’t a clue what’s happening. Damn that Digger for not leaving Jack’s gear with him. He’d have some kind of coagulation drug in it for sure, probably an inhalant.’

‘Unless he didn’t know he had von Willebrand’s. Some people don’t, do they?’

Hamish nodded. He was counting respirations. Their patient would make it through the night, he was sure of that. And providing they could stem the infection, he would recover from this wound. What he wasn’t sure about was what would happen after that. Lucky was the hospital’s miracle baby, but his mother, Megan, and her family had been going through a rough time for years, and now, right when it looked as if things might be coming good for them, Lucky’s father could end up in jail.

Hamish looked out into the darkness. Kate’s idea of finding the cattle duffers and bringing them to justice was suddenly very appealing.

And very stupid, he admitted to himself, but he turned to study the spunky woman who’d suggested it. She was unfolding a space blanket, her head bent as she concentrated on spreading it out, neat white teeth biting the corner of her lower lip. He saw her again as he’d first seen her, and heard her voice saying ‘piffle’ in a no-nonsense way to Jack.

You don’t fall in love because of a sunbeam turning brown curls golden, or because a husky voice says ‘piffle.’ But if he wasn’t in love then he must be sickening for something. Elevated heart rate, shallow respiration, a slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something disagreeable was lurking there—and all this without taking into consideration the stirring in his groin whenever he looked at the woman.

She’s not interested, he reminded himself. And who could blame her, after what she’s been through? Even if she was interested, she’s here on a mission and you’re going home in three weeks. Home to a position you’ve waited two years to secure, home to specialise in paediatrics—your life-long dream-come-true scenario. You cannot fall in love with Kate Winship.

‘Here’s your blanket. Do you want another of those dreadful biscuits from the provision pack?’

‘Those dreadful biscuits are proven to be life-sustaining. They probably contain more nutrition than your regular three meals a day.’

It would be nice to eat three meals a day with Kate …

‘But they taste terrible,’ Kate reminded him with a smile.

And have her smiling at him all the time …

‘Should we take turns to watch him?’ She nodded towards their patient.

‘I’ll doze beside him. I’ll need to change the fluid bags during the night, and probably see to fluid output as well. I think he’d prefer I tended him.’

Kate nodded, knowing this was an indication she should move a little further away to give Jack and Hamish privacy, but there was someone out there who might not want Jack rescued.

‘Bring the backpack to cushion the rock, and sleep on the other side of me,’ Hamish suggested, apparently reading her thoughts with ease. ‘I’m big enough to block Jack’s view of you, and to shade you from the lamplight. Come on. We’ll be warmer if we’re all close together.’

Not too close, Kate warned herself, but she lifted the pack and carried it around to Hamish’s side of the patient, opening it in the light first so he could get out what he’d need during the night, then pushing it into place against the rock wall.

‘I’m not sure that a backpack full of medical supplies makes the perfect pillow,’ she said, as she tried to shift box-shaped lumps around inside it.

‘Try sleeping against a folded aluminium stretcher,’ Hamish countered, but he leaned over and removed some of the boxes from her pack, stacking them neatly on the ledge. ‘Better?’

His face was shadowed but she knew he was smiling, because she could hear the amusement in his voice. He was a nice man, she decided—the kind of man a girl would be lucky to meet should she be on the lookout for nice in a man.

Or anything in a man.

Or a man …

Was it a sound that had woken her? Hamish must have turned off the lamp, for the cave was dark. Kate lay still, knowing any movement would rustle the silver blanket tucked around her body. Someone—or something—was moving out there.

‘Shh!’

She didn’t need the barely breathed warning but it was comforting to know Hamish was awake—comforting to feel his hand find her shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze.

He’d be a nice man to hug.

Good thing he couldn’t see the eye-roll that was her reaction to the stupid thought. She had to get a grip. What she needed was a big rock to hide behind, not a hug. What use were hugs if whatever was out there was a man with a gun?

‘Look!’

The soft word made her turn, and there, exposed in the moonlight, was a family of wallabies.

‘Rock wallabies,’ Hamish whispered, as the biggest of the three lifted his delicately shaped head and looked around, scenting some alien presence in his domain. The middle one was also curious, but anxious about the youngster, who was braver in his exploration of the world. Kate sighed at the wonder of it.

‘I didn’t know they were nocturnal,’ she murmured, fascinated by the threesome who had paused, as if posed for photographs, right in front of her.

‘It’s nearly dawn. They’ll feed now until the sun gets too hot then rest in the shade for the remainder of the day.’

A shot rang out, then echoed frighteningly back at them again and again. Two of the wallabies had disappeared, but the third lay still in front of them, the long back legs twitching one or twice.

‘That’s Todd! He’s out there. It’s a warning.’

Jack’s voice quivered with fear, and Hamish’s ‘Get back here’ was far louder, but Kate was already bending over the injured wallaby, trying to turn the body to see the wound. Then she was lifted from the ground and carried back into the cave.

‘You stupid woman! He had a clear shot at the ‘roo from wherever he was and you go out there and make a bigger target for him. Are you insane?’

‘It might not be dead.’

Kate couldn’t believe the dampness on her cheeks could possibly be tears. She hadn’t cried when Bill had told her she’d been fostered. She hadn’t cried when she’d found out about Daniel and Lindy. She hadn’t even cried when she’d discovered she’d missed meeting her birth mother by one lousy week—so why was she crying over a dead animal?

‘We’ll check later.’ Hamish was still holding her, but more gently now, brushing his hand over her head and repeating the words as if he knew she needed the reassurance. ‘We’ll check when we hear the chopper overhead. If it’s only injured we can take it out with us, but experienced ‘roo shooters shoot to kill, Kate.’

‘He’ll shoot us all.’ Jack’s panic reminded Kate she had a patient to tend. She pushed away from Hamish, swiped her hands across her face and knelt beside the young man, who was frantically trying to free himself from tubes and bags of fluid.

‘He’s just trying to scare us,’ Hamish said, but his Scottish accent didn’t make the words any less ridiculous.

‘Well, he’s succeeded in that part of his plan. What’s next?’ Kate muttered, holding tightly to Jack’s hand—finding as much comfort as she was giving.

‘I doubt he wants three bodies on his hands. It’s not as if he has the luxury of time to get rid of any trace of us. Having heard the chopper yesterday, he’ll know it will be coming back for us at first light. I’d say the gunshot was a warning to Jack not to talk about what’s been going on.’

‘As if I would!’ Jack muttered, and though Kate wanted to argue with him he was still feverish and they had a difficult time ahead of them, getting him safely out of the gorge.

Which reminded her.

‘Did you find an open space we can use to winch Jack up?’ she asked Hamish, though the thought of how vulnerable they’d be when they left the cave, she and Hamish carrying the stretcher, Jack strapped to it between them, made her shiver.

‘I did, and not too far away. It’s getting lighter by the minute, so Rex will be on his way. Once he’s overhead we’ll have radio contact with him and I’ll let him know there’s some unfriendly person out there. He’ll buzz around and hover over us when we move, but I’m sure this Todd person fired his shot to frighten Jack, then took off.’

‘I should have died. You should have let me die!’ Jack said, and Kate rounded on him.

‘If you moan like that once more I swear I’ll finish you off myself. Think of it as a big adventure in your path to adulthood. As a great story you can tell your kids in the future. How many young men your age have been shot at and had to huddle in a cave in a gorge in the middle of nowhere, and been rescued by …’ She turned to Hamish. ‘Could we be Batman and Robin, do you think? Swooping out of the sky in our Bat Helicopter?’

She looked up at Hamish. ‘Bags I be Batman!’

Hamish was kneeling on the floor of the cave, fitting the long sides of the stretcher together. He turned towards her and smiled.

‘And that would make me Robin?’

‘Or Jack could be Robin and you could be the butler guy who answered the phone at the mansion.’

‘That’s not very fair,’ Hamish protested, moving the now-assembled stretcher over to their patient. ‘I flew in too so I have to be Robin.’

‘I don’t need that. I can walk—or hop—if the two of you support me,’ Jack protested. He sat up to prove his point, and as the colour faded from his cheeks Kate caught him and rested him gently back against the pillow.

‘Not just yet,’ she said, helping Hamish position the stretcher where they needed it. ‘It’s far easier to carry you if you’re lying down, and much safer winching you up in a stretcher harness. I imagine Hamish will go first so he can get you safely inside, then you, then I’ll follow.’

She glanced up to see Hamish frowning at her.

‘It’s the only practical way to do it,’ she pointed out, though she knew he’d know it. It was the knight errantry thing again—he didn’t want her down here on her own. ‘I’ll be fine—I’m Batman, remember.’

Her reward was a brief smile, flashing across his tired, unshaven face, but the smile was almost immediately replaced by a new frown.

‘Just remember Batman wasn’t indestructible,’ he warned, then he turned his attention to Jack, explaining how they would move him onto the stretcher.

‘When it’s time to move, we’ll take you off the oxygen and stop the IV fluid until you’re on board. The fewer tubes you have around you, the less likely it is we’ll foul the winch ropes.’

‘Boy, that’s a comforting thing to be telling a patient,’ Kate remarked, fitting a strap across Jack’s chest. ‘Less likely to foul the winch ropes! And just how often does this service have trouble with winch ropes?’

‘Never in my time,’ Hamish reassured Jack, then he smiled again at Kate. ‘But I believe when it does happen, it’s usually on the third lift.’

‘Great! Might have known!’ she said, poking Jack’s arm with her finger. ‘Told you my life was worse than yours.’

Hamish studied her for a moment, and saw the small even teeth once again nibbling at the corner of her lower lip as she fastened the straps on the stretcher. She must be scared stiff, but she was dealing with it her way—with teasing humour. He wasn’t exactly unconcerned himself. Dangling on the end of a winch rope, all three of them in turn would make perfect targets for a man with a rifle.

Hamish could tell himself any shooting at this stage would bring the full might of the Queensland police into the gorge, so the man called Todd would be stupid to take aim at any of them.

But believing it was harder.

How badly did Todd want to protect his secret?

How far would he go?