Читать книгу A Kiss To Melt Her Heart - Emily Forbes - Страница 9

Date: March 7th

Temperature: -7°C

Hours of sunlight: 13.9

THE SEAT BELT WAS pressing into Sophie’s still-tender abdomen and it was starting to irritate her now. Having had her appendix removed just a few days before her adventure wasn’t ideal but she’d had no other option.

She was determined to be on this plane and she hadn’t been about to let something as relatively minor as prophylactic surgery stop her. Any Australian doctor who wanted to work at one of the Antarctic stations had to have their appendix removed before they could be sent south. This clause didn’t apply to anyone else—the doctor would be able to remove anyone else’s troublesome appendix on the ice but the Australian Antarctic Programme didn’t want to risk the station doctor. The surgery was non-negotiable but in Sophie’s mind it was a relatively minor procedure and certainly something she had been happy to agree to. But she hadn’t expected the tenderness to last for so many days.

She undid her belt and stood up. She could stretch her legs and her abdominals at the same time. She wandered to the cockpit, seeking company. She was the sole passenger from Hobart to the Antarctic airfield. The plane would return filled with summer expeditioners heading home for the winter but on this leg she had the entire cabin to herself.

She’d spent most of the four-and-a-half-hour flight reading the numerous documents she’d been given, trying to work out which ones were the most important. Her trip had been fast-tracked and she knew she hadn’t had the same time to prepare as most others would have had. But she was tired of reading and it couldn’t be too much longer before they landed. It had been dark when they’d left Hobart but the sunrise had followed them as they’d flown west, eventually catching up with them, and Sophie had watched as the sky had turned pink and lightened as they’d flown over the ocean.

She knocked on the cockpit door, eager to check with the flight crew what their ETA was. She felt like a kid on a long car trip. ‘How much longer?’ She wanted to get the three-thousand-four-hundred-kilometre flight over and done with. She wanted to get to the ice.

‘Perfect timing,’ the pilot, said as he called her in. ‘Have a seat. We’ve just started spotting the first icebergs.’

Sophie took a seat behind the captain and co-pilot and peered through the cockpit windows. The sea was calm and flat, a pond of dark blue dotted with white. The icebergs were stunning, crisp, pure and brilliant and all different shapes and sizes. But the ice was not pure white, like she’d expected, but lit with myriad shades of blue—turquoise, aqua, a hint of cerulean and the palest sky blue.

It was a serene, perfect vista and Sophie was mesmerised. She could hardly believe she’d done it. What at times had seemed almost impossible was now only incredible. She was almost in Antarctica.

‘We should be landing in about thirty minutes.’ The captain interrupted her daydreaming. ‘The weather conditions look good, it should be a straightforward approach, but you should change into your survival clothing now. It will probably take you a while.’

Sophie had collected her red kitbag just prior to boarding the plane in Hobart. It contained the multiple layers she needed to wear to keep warm in the polar conditions. She’d had a brief lesson in getting dressed the previous day and she just hoped she remembered the order.

She returned to the cabin, pulled the bag out of the overhead locker and dumped the contents on her seat. She could feel the plane start its descent as she stripped off her shoes, sweatpants and jumper and pulled on thermal underwear before replacing the other layers. She stepped into her red waterproof pants, which were insulated with a down filling, making them rather cumbersome. She stuffed her shoes into the kitbag and then sat down to wrestle with the bulky insulated snow boots complete with thick rubber soles. She had some difficulty getting her feet into the boots—the puffy pants made bending awkward—but eventually she was able to lace up the white boots, which had the rather odd nickname of ‘bunny boots’. She slipped her arms into the padded jacket and tugged a neck warmer over her head but decided the beanie and gloves could wait. She gathered her hair in one hand and tucked it inside her jacket, where it hung down between her shoulder blades.

By the time she’d finished and returned to her seat she could see through the window that the vast expanse of ocean was giving way to an equally vast expanse of ice and snow in the distance. She searched the horizon for signs of life, for buildings or communication towers, something, anything, to indicate that the icy plateau was inhabited. She could see miles and miles of ice, snow and ocean and eventually a few small buildings, which looked no bigger than shipping containers cobbled together, came into view. That would be the airstrip.

She knew not to expect to see a traditional tarred runway but she was nervous. She could see nothing that remotely resembled a landing strip. She knew from the mandatory flight briefing she’d had the previous day that the plane would land on a specially built pack-ice runway three kilometres long, but that didn’t appease her nerves at all. She couldn’t fathom how something as big and heavy as this plane could land safely on a runway made of ice. The flight briefing had covered information on the flight and the runway, as well as several topics on safety and survival in the Antarctic, but that didn’t stop her from imagining the plane skidding out of control off the edge of the slippery landing strip.

She decided ignorance was bliss and turned away from the window, choosing not to watch as the plane approached the runway. She zipped up her jacket and dug her sunglasses out of her bag.

Standing at the top of the stairs, with the landing safely completed, the chill of the Antarctic autumn day took her by surprise. It was only minus seven degrees Celsius and the sun was shining, but the briskness of the wind on her face after the relative warmth of the plane was unexpected. She tugged her neck warmer up to cover the bottom half of her face and considered donning her beanie but opted just to pull the hood of her jacket over her head before she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and made her way down the aircraft stairs.

In contrast to the relative silence on the plane, the airstrip was a hive of activity. She couldn’t remember who she was supposed to look for and even if she could she doubted she’d find them. Everyone looked identical. They were all bundled up in matching government-issue red jackets, balaclavas or face masks and sunglasses as they went about their duties, making it impossible to recognise anyone.

The fluttering in her stomach, which she’d convinced herself was excitement, suddenly intensified as anticipation gave way to nervousness. Was she going to be able to handle this? All of a sudden living and working in this extraordinary environment with a group of strangers didn’t seem quite so exotic and exhilarating.

But she remembered her promise to Luke and straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She would do it. And she’d return home stronger and surer and ready to get on with her life.

‘Doc?’ A thick-set man had separated himself from the bustle and was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He stuck out a hand and Sophie shook it, rather awkwardly due to the thick gloves they both wore, as she took in what little she could see of him.

He was a few inches taller than her and wasn’t wearing any head protection—no hat, no balaclava—just sunglasses. He was a big man but appeared to be muscular rather than fat and had hair that hung to his shoulders in thick blond ringlets. His nose was slightly hooked and his jaw was covered in a scruffy blond beard. His eyes were hidden but a cheeky smile lit up his face.

‘I’m Alex, the FTO.’

From her previous dealings and background reading Sophie already thought of Antarctica as the land of acronyms but she was struggling to keep track of them all and couldn’t remember what this one meant. She looked blankly at him until he qualified it for her.

‘The field training officer.’

‘Oh, right. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘I’ll be driving you back to Carey Station but you’ve got some time to kill first. I have to get the cargo squared away to take back with us.’

Sophie was surprised by Alex’s strong Australian accent—a Queensland twang, she thought—and she realised she had expected to hear foreign accents, the kind of thing that happened when you travelled to the ski fields and the lift operators and ski instructors had European accents, even though the ski fields were in Australia. She’d been fooled by the surroundings into thinking she was in a foreign land—and she was—but this part of it was being run by Australians. It was obviously going to take her some time to adjust and she had another nervous moment as she realised that it was very likely that nothing would be as she’d expected.

‘What do I need to do with my bags?’ she asked, as she saw them being unloaded from the cargo hold. She’d been allowed three bags with a combined weight of fifty-five kilograms and, having no real concept of what she might actually need but knowing it would be impossible to get anything she’d forgotten, she’d used every ounce of her allowance. In addition to her own luggage she’d also been given the survival kit, which she had hauled down the airplane steps along with her carry-on luggage. Even though she was now wearing most of the contents of the bag, it was still bulky and she hadn’t thought about the logistics of getting all her bags from the plane across the ice and snow to the buildings and to her transport. She had no idea what the procedure was.

‘Is that them?’ Alex pointed at her cases. Sophie nodded. ‘Just the three?’ She nodded again. ‘I’ll take care of it,’ he offered. ‘Give me your survival bag as well. I’ll stow them in the Hägglund and I’ll meet you inside the terminal when I’m done.’

Sophie didn’t argue as Alex took her survival kit and grabbed the first of her cases. She was relieved not to have to cart her heavy bags while negotiating the icy conditions.

She could see the over-snow vehicle parked a few metres from the plane. The Hägglund was an odd-looking machine and it reminded her of a childish drawing of a car crossed with a mini-tank. It looked like a box with windows set atop caterpillar treads, which Sophie knew would enable it to traverse the ice. Both the cabin and its attached trailer were square and boxy and painted bright red. Alex hoisted her bags into the attached trailer while Sophie headed for the building that he had indicated. It was difficult to walk in the cumbersome clothing, especially the heavily insulated bunny boots, and her progress felt slow and awkward.

When she finally reached the ‘terminal’ it turned out to be a rather makeshift building constructed out of several shipping containers, just as it had looked from the air, with a few minor modifications along the lines of some windows and a couple of doors. It also reminded her of a child’s drawing and it lent a surreal air to her surroundings.

Inside, the building was full of people who, she assumed, were summer expeditioners. They were milling around, waiting to get on the plane that would fly them home for winter, but despite the crowd it wasn’t any warmer inside the building. The only difference in here was that more people had their heads and faces uncovered.

‘Dr Thompson?’

She turned at the sound of her name and, recognising the Scottish burr of the man’s voice, she smiled as she greeted him. ‘You must be John.’ His accent was much more similar to what she’d expected to encounter. John was the doctor she had come to replace and while she had dealt with him before through the AMU, the Antarctic Medicine Unit, it had only been over the phone, never in person, and it was good to be able to put a face to his name.

He was able to give her a brief handover but Sophie was relieved to hear he’d left detailed instructions for her at the station. Knowing he had more pressing things on his mind—his daughter’s scheduled surgery—she insisted she would be fine. ‘Just make sure you call with an update on Marianna’s condition,’ she said, before saying farewell to him as he made his way to the refuelled aircraft.

Alex appeared at her side as the terminal emptied of people. ‘We’re good to go,’ he told her.

He kept up a steady stream of conversation from the moment she climbed into the Hägglund and she was grateful that he didn’t appear to expect too much in the way of replies from her.

He was entertaining company, keeping her amused with stories from the ice and telling her what to expect. She was quite interested in how a rugby player from the warm climate of Queensland had adjusted to the indoor life at an Antarctic station.

‘We spend more time outside than you’d think,’ he responded. ‘The weather is cold but it’s often clear and fine. You’ll be able to get out and go exploring. Do you know how to ride a quad bike?’

‘No.’ Sophie shook her head.

‘No worries. I’ll teach you. That’s part of my role as the FTO. It’s my job to train the other expeditioners, including you, in station safety procedures, survival skills, how to operate snowmobiles, quad bikes and the like. I’m also one of your medical support team.’

Sophie knew that some of the expeditioners had done some basic medical training and were able to assist her in an emergency situation, helping with suturing, anaesthetic monitoring and acting as scrub nurses among other things, but as Alex talked she found herself becoming increasingly nervous as it really sank in that she would be the only doctor for hundreds of miles and solely responsible for all the crew at the station.

She was feeling quite overwhelmed. She’d thought she’d be excited but everything was far more foreign than she’d anticipated, including the landscape. The pictures and videos she’d seen hadn’t prepared her for the rather alien scenery that filled the windows. Vast expanses of ice stretched into the distance. She could see mountains of ice but the only thing that broke the expanse of white was the occasional rocky outcrop.

The landscape looked relatively flat but she could feel corrugations under the caterpillar treads of the Hägglund, making it seem as though they were going up and down over crests of waves. Alex told her that was exactly what happened. The wind formed the snow into drifts that then froze, making waves in the surface. In some places, where the ice rose up in thicker drifts that absorbed red light from the spectrum, the ice appeared more blue than white, but mostly it was a blinding glare that made her feel she needed to close her eyes even with her sunglasses on.

‘Doc? We’re almost here.’

Alex woke her as they approached the station. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the interior of the over-snow vehicle was warm and cosy, and despite the excitement of her new surroundings she was exhausted. She hadn’t slept the night before—she’d had to be at the airport by three-thirty in the morning and she hadn’t seen much point in going to bed first so she’d stayed up, double-checking her packing. She’d taken out clothes and put in a few nonessential luxury items that other women who had worked on the ice suggested she take—a nice dress, decent shampoo, a thick bath towel, sheepskin boots—and as much as she hadn’t wanted to miss anything on the seventy-kilometre trip from the airstrip to the station she’d been lulled to sleep by the monotonous sound of the diesel engine and the warmth of the cabin.

‘I thought you might like a first glimpse of your temporary home,’ Alex said, as they came over a crest in the snow.

The station was spread out before her. It was perched on the edge of a natural harbour and while Sophie had seen photos the scale still took her by surprise. Close to a dozen brightly painted buildings were scattered over the snow, as if someone had spilt a handful of children’s building blocks. The buildings were a collection of shipping containers welded together to form larger structures, exactly the same as the buildings at the airstrip but on a bigger scale.

Sophie knew the bright paint scheme—red, yellow, blue and orange—was to make the buildings distinguishable from each other in blizzard conditions. The colour each ‘shed’ was painted depended on its function, but the brightness of the paint made the buildings look out of place, a blight on the landscape and a stark contrast to the ancient, icy plateau surrounding her.

A large dock poked out into the harbour and parked on the dock and scattered between the buildings were dozens of vehicles—trucks, graders, snowmobiles and trailers. Antennae and tanks, for water and gas storage, she suspected, sprouted out of the ground between the sheds, competing for space on the ice.

Her nervousness kicked up another notch. This was the station, her home for the next few weeks, and the little outpost of civilisation looked even more alien than the landscape.

‘Welcome to Carey,’ Alex said, as he brought the Hägglund to a stop in front of the largest of the buildings. This building was painted bright red and it was one thing Sophie did recognise. It was called, not surprisingly, ‘the red shed’, and it housed the accommodation block, the kitchen and the medical centre, and it was where she expected to spend most of her time.

Sophie pulled her gloves back on, squared her shoulders and climbed out of the cabin as she told herself everything would all be all right.

The wind whipped past her cheeks, making them ache with the cold after the warmth of the vehicle. She reached for the neck warmer and pulled it up over the lower half of her face.

‘Doc, welcome.’

A tall, solidly built man greeted her as he strode across the ground without a hint of the clumsiness she herself had felt as she’d negotiated the icy conditions. This man looked completely comfortable in the alien environment. He was dressed in a bright red cold-weather suit, identical to hers, but like Alex he had his head and face uncovered and exposed to the elements. The only concession he made to the conditions was in the form of sunglasses to protect against the blinding glare of the sun. Didn’t anyone else think it was cold?

He stopped in front of her and Sophie looked up, way up.

He was several inches taller than her and she stood five feet seven inches. His dark hair was cropped short and sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, and a dark, neatly trimmed beard covered the bottom half of his oval-shaped face.

‘I’m Gabe Sullivan, the station leader.’

So this was the man whose job it was to run Carey Station. This was her new boss.

He took his sunglasses off and extended his hand. His eyes were a dark chocolate-brown, kind and warming, and when he smiled at her, showcasing perfect white teeth framed by the darkness of his beard, Sophie forgot about being cold. Whereas Alex looked like a weekend surfer, Gabe Sullivan looked like a pioneer. Dark, rugged and strong. He looked like an explorer who was perfectly suited to this environment. He looked confident, like a man who could easily withstand the harsh elements of this climate, and as Sophie shook his outstretched, gloved hand she felt her nervousness recede as his gaze instilled confidence in her too.

Holding Gabe’s hand and looking into his dark-eyed gaze, she had an immediate sense that things would be okay. It was a bizarre feeling to get from a complete stranger, it was a ridiculous notion, but she saw something in his eyes, felt something in the strength of his grasp, that made her feel as though she had made the right decision. That this adventure would not be a huge mistake.

She could sense the strength in him and she could draw her own strength from that. In the same way that Danny had made her a stronger person she felt the same sense of security and confidence when she looked at Gabe. Standing here, looking up at him, she knew she’d be all right. She could do this. She was ready for the next stage of her life.

Alex had opened the back of the Hägglund and was removing her luggage from the trailer. Sophie forced herself to remove her hand from Gabe’s glove and break eye contact as she went to help with her bags. But Gabe was there before her.

‘We’ll get those for you,’ he offered.

‘I can manage,’ she said, even though she wasn’t certain that she could. Her bags were heavy and her stomach muscles complained every time she moved too quickly, let alone tried to lift something heavy.

‘Alex and I will do it,’ Gabe insisted. ‘You’ll have plenty of opportunity to help out once you get used to moving in your cold-weather gear.’

Sophie wondered if he was normally this chivalrous or whether he knew she’d recently undergone surgery but, either way, she didn’t bother arguing any further. It was nice to have someone look after her for a change so rather than debating the issue she graciously accepted his offer.

She did feel awkward in the padded overclothes and she suspected it would take some time for the bulky layers to feel comfortable. But even though her movement and her vision were restricted, she was grateful for the modern comforts. She couldn’t imagine surviving out here without this clothing. She was no intrepid explorer. She wasn’t really any sort of explorer. While Danny would have survived and thrived in these conditions, much like she suspected Gabe did, she knew she would be quite happy to experience the wilderness provided she had some twenty-first-century comforts.

Gabe and Alex retrieved her bags from the vehicle and Sophie followed them up the metal stairs to the red shed. She needed to steady herself with one hand on the rail of the steps, which were slick with a coating of ice, and she was glad she wasn’t trying to wrestle with her bags at the same time.

The two-storey building towered above her as Gabe stomped his feet on the steel grid at the top of the stairs to dislodge any snow and Sophie followed suit. Alex deposited Sophie’s bags beside her and excused himself, explaining he needed to return the Hägglund to the vehicle shed.

Gabe pushed open the door. It looked heavy and exactly like a door one would find on a freezer room. As she stepped through it she could see that was precisely what it was. As Gabe closed the door softly behind her, she noticed an immediate increase in temperature for, despite the sunshine, the outside temperature remained well below freezing. She understood the point of the freezer door now—it wasn’t to keep the cold in but to keep the cold out.

She found herself in what looked like a large mud room, similar to the drying rooms she’d seen in ski lodges. Around the edge of the room were open-fronted lockers with hanging space and shelving. Gabe directed her to one with ‘Doc’ written above it. ‘You can keep your outer layer of clothes here—boots, jackets, pants, gloves.’ His voice was deep and sounded like it held a smile, Sophie felt as if she could listen to him for hours. ‘The shed is heated to around twenty degrees Celsius,’ he continued, ‘so you don’t need much more than a layer of normal clothing once you’re inside. If your clothes are damp or wet, make sure you hang them with some space between them so they dry effectively. Take your linings out of your boots if they are wet. If your socks are dry leave them on, otherwise change them.’

Sophie nodded and looked around, taking in the surroundings, as Gabe brought her bags into the room and then began to strip off his outer layers of clothing. Sophie hesitated before following. She wasn’t sure exactly how many layers she was supposed to discard. He had mentioned normal clothing but stripping down to one layer would leave her standing there in her thermal underwear. She didn’t think that was what he’d meant.

She looked to Gabe for guidance. His waterproof jacket was hanging on a peg above his boots. His waterproof pants came off next, followed by a fleecy pullover and his long-sleeved shirt. Sophie wondered how many more layers he was going to remove until she realised he had finished and was now standing, waiting for her, dressed in a simple black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

She could see now that her first impression of him being solidly built had been correct. It was impossible to judge people’s sizes accurately when they were encased in their cold-weather gear but now that he was standing in front of her in civvies she didn’t have to imagine what he looked like. His shoulders were broad, his chest was muscular and his stomach was flat. His jeans hugged his thighs, showing off his long, lean legs. He was an impressive-looking man.

Realising it was probably inappropriate to be taking stock of him like this she averted her eyes and continued removing layers until she was clothed in her sweatpants and T-shirt. She was still wearing her thermals but she wasn’t about to remove another layer and stand before Gabe in her underwear. She wasn’t that confident and, if the truth be told, undressing at all in front of him was making her feel a little nervous. She’d taken off enough clothing for now, she just hoped it wasn’t going to be much hotter inside the shed proper. She might regret her modesty.

Once she’d finished discarding clothing, Gabe opened the next door that led further into the red shed. ‘Can you hold this for me?’ he asked.

His voice was deep and smooth and matched his physique. He exuded a sense of calm while looking like a man who was used to being in charge, used to being listened to, used to having people follow his instructions. She supposed that was appropriate, given that he was in charge of the station, but Sophie got the sense that he wasn’t a man you wanted to disappoint.

She held the door as Gabe picked up one of her bags and slung it over his shoulder, before grabbing the two remaining bags and leading the way out of the drying room.

‘Let me take one of those,’ Sophie protested. All she had to carry was her virtually empty kitbag.

‘I’ve got it,’ he replied. ‘I know you’ve only just had your appendix out. I don’t want to jeopardise your recovery by letting you lift and carry things you don’t need to. You’re far too important on this station to put you at risk.’

Sophie didn’t argue any further. Gabe was twice her size. He had removed his shoes but he was still an inch or two over six feet tall and much heavier than she was. If he was going to insist on lugging her gear, she was happy to let him. She was willing to admit relief at not having to cart her suitcases.

She didn’t ask how Gabe knew about her recent surgery. As Station Leader, he would have his finger on every pulse. She knew that the Human Resources department in Hobart would have prepared a file on her and that Gabe would have read it. The file would detail everything he might need to know, from her qualifications to the results of her psych tests to her next of kin. He would know how many years’ experience she had as a doctor and that she was widowed. He would have read all the reports but he didn’t mention any other personal details.

She was grateful for his help and his discretion. She followed him out of the drying room into a passageway. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he was carting over fifty kilograms of her baggage. He didn’t appear to be under any strain at all. His long-legged stride ate up the corridor and Sophie had to hurry to keep up with him.

‘You’ve missed lunch but the cook will rustle something up for you as I’m sure you’re hungry, and then I’ll give you a tour of the station,’ Gabe said over his shoulder. ‘Unless you need to rest, in which case I’ll show you straight to your room.’

The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted along the corridor, teasing her taste buds. ‘Something to eat sounds good,’ she said, surprising herself. She had lost her appetite since Danny’s death and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually felt like eating. But suddenly she was starving.

Gabe turned and pushed open a door. He backed into a room and when Sophie followed she found herself in the mess hall. The kitchen equipment ran along the back wall to her left. Massive serving stations filled the centre of the room and several long communal tables were arranged between the serving area and the far wall. Sophie’s eyes were drawn to a series of enormous windows on the far wall and she forgot all about the smell of freshly baked bread. She forgot she was in the kitchen. She forgot Gabe had brought her here to eat. She forgot she was hungry.

The view through the windows drew her across the room. The windows looked out over the icy plateau and across the blue waters of Vincennes Bay, and she couldn’t resist a closer look at the harbour. She’d only caught a quick glimpse of the station’s landscape as Alex had delivered her to the red shed and she was drawn to the contrasting colours of the buildings, the ice and the water. The views were glorious.

Half a dozen armchairs with plump cushions were positioned in front of the windows and she could just imagine curling up in one and staring out across the ice. It would be a constantly changing landscape, depending on the weather conditions, and more than likely would be enough to keep her occupied for hours.

‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ Gabe stood beside her.

She nodded and spoke in a whisper that seemed to fit the majesty of the view. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to live here for the next few weeks. At the end of the earth.’

Gabe was smiling at her. ‘Just wait until you see Mother Nature in all her glory. It’s beautiful today when the sun is shining but if there’s a blizzard it will seem as though someone has pulled a snow curtain over the windows. Every day is different and at times the weather can, and does, change in a matter of seconds. It’s a beautiful but inhospitable landscape and, while you’re welcome to explore it, it’s imperative we make sure you’re equipped to deal with it. I’ll organise for Alex to give you some survival training as we can’t let you out there until we’re sure you’re ready, but right now I think the first order of business is getting you fed.’

Gabe introduced her to Dom, the station chef, who served her a bowl of minestrone with freshly baked rolls still warm from the oven. Sophie’s stomach rumbled as she quickly gathered her brown, shoulder-length curls into one hand, pulling them into a ponytail before securing it with an elastic band that was around her wrist. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder, picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup. She bent her head and tasted it.

‘Mmm, this is fabulous, thanks, Dom. I think I’ll make you my first friend.’

She lifted her head and beamed at Dom and Gabe was stunned at the way her smile lit up her face and changed her from an attractive woman into a beautiful one. How did he get her to smile like that at him? He’d been mesmerised, watching her tie her dark curls back into a ponytail—he had always loved how women could so deftly change their hairstyles—but watching her play with her hair couldn’t compare to watching her face light up with a full smile. She had two dimples, one in each cheek, and the sudden flash of the matching pair completely blindsided him. She was a gorgeous woman even if, in his opinion, she was too thin. Seeing her tuck into Dom’s soup was a relief.

He knew that Sophie’s husband had been tragically killed only a few months ago and he’d had reservations about the Australian Antarctic Programme sending her down here so soon after the accident, but he’d been told that she’d passed all the tests and that they didn’t have any other options. She was the best choice, they’d said, and he just had to hope it worked out. The only trouble was that if things didn’t go according to plan, she became his problem, not the AAP’s. He was the one in charge down here. He was the one left to sort out any mess. But seeing her eat relieved some of his apprehension. That was one less thing to worry about. Maybe she was naturally thin or maybe she’d lost weight after her husband had died, but at least she was eating.

To distract himself from thoughts of her dimples, he transferred her bags to her room while she ate, before returning to help settle her into the station. Their first stop on the way to her room was the storeroom.

‘This is our version of a supermarket, and you can help yourself to anything in here that you need,’ he told her as he waited for her to select linen, toiletries and other essentials from the shelves. ‘This floor of the shed is primarily living and rec space. We have a gym, a climbing wall, an activity centre, a library, lounge and a cinema, so there’s plenty to keep you occupied for any downtime. Everything of importance as far as your role is concerned is housed in the red shed. The other sheds are for stores, machinery, that sort of thing, although there is an area set up in one shed for those who like painting or woodwork or photography, etcetera. I’ll show you that another time. The medical centre and your room are down this way.

‘This is your donga,’ he said as he pushed open yet another door, this one leading into a bedroom. ‘And the medical centre is across the corridor.’

Sophie followed Gabe into her room. It was far from spacious. Her bags were taking up most of the free floor space, leaving just enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. The air in the room felt charged and she had a sense of anticipation but she tried to tell herself it was just the circumstances, the excitement of her new surroundings, and had nothing to do with the man standing next to her. But she was aware of how much space he took up, and as there was no room for her to move she stood beside him as she checked out her quarters.

As small as it was, it contained all the essentials. There was a single bed with built-in furniture—a tiny desk, a wardrobe and plenty of shelves and under-bed drawers for storage. It reminded her of boarding school.

‘I know it’s pretty basic but this is actually one of the dongas that has been recently refurbished. And we don’t want to make it too comfortable because we want people to get out of their rooms and socialise—it’s important in this isolated environment—but we realise people do need some privacy. You’ll have internet access for emails, etcetera, but no video calls. The password and log-in details are here on your notice-board,’ he said, as he pointed out a scrap of paper pinned to a board above the desk. ‘All the dongas have single beds. That’s not to say there aren’t South Pole romances, we’re not trying to deliberately make things difficult, but space is at a premium.’

‘I don’t think a single bed will bother me,’ she said, knowing it was of little consequence to her.

‘My room is next to yours. I also want to be close to the action but most of the accommodation is on the upper level. Now that most of the summer staff has left, I can arrange to move you upstairs if you’d prefer.’

‘No.’ Sophie shook her head. ‘It makes sense for me to be close to the medical facilities.’ She was the only doctor at the station so she needed to be close by, but she was also oddly comforted by the thought that Gabe would be close at hand too, especially while she familiarised herself with her strange new surroundings.

‘Good decision. Staying on this floor means you’ll have your own bathroom. Upstairs there are private dongas but shared facilities. You will need to keep your own bathroom clean, though. There’s a roster for Saturday chores—vacuuming, cleaning common areas, shovelling snow, that sort of thing—plus everyone volunteers for a secondary position.’

‘Secondary positions?’

‘We all take on part-time roles in addition to normal duties. Things like librarian, firefighter, medical support team, working in the hydroponics shed or helping Dom in the kitchen. There are enough options so you should be able to choose something that interests you as long as you can do it without any extra training as we won’t have time for that. But you don’t need to worry about it today. I’ll give you a rundown later. If you’re okay, I’ll leave you to get sorted. Dinner is at six and everyone will gather for a drink in the bar beforehand. Do you want me to come back for you or can you find it? It’s right next to the dining hall.’

‘I’ll find it.’

‘One last thing—it’s the final bit of information for now, I promise,’ he added, when Sophie suspected he’d noticed her bewildered expression. Gabe smiled at her and his dark eyes shone, and she wondered if she could think of a few questions for him, something to delay him leaving. She wasn’t sure that she felt like keeping her own company but she was sure he had more important matters to attend to. ‘Water is scarce over winter so we have restrictions in place.’

‘Water restrictions in a place smothered in ice?’ Sophie queried, thinking he had to be kidding.

‘That’s the problem over winter. We have plenty of ice but no water. It doesn’t rain here so until the temperatures rise and the summer melt happens we have to watch our water supply. The restrictions are mainly for showers—two minutes, every second day.’

‘Okay.’ She hadn’t been expecting that but she supposed there would be plenty more unexpected and unusual things over the next few days until she got used to her new surroundings. She closed the door behind him, letting him go. She unpacked one of her bags before deciding to explore the medical centre instead. It was her domain and she was eager to see what was in store for her.

The medical suite consisted of a consulting room, a dental and exam room, a small operating theatre, a lab, a two-bed ward, a storeroom and a bathroom. Sophie was pleasantly surprised to find the clinic so well equipped. She did a quick inventory of equipment and drugs before returning to her room. She had promised to send Luke an email to let him know she arrived safely and she figured he would have expected to hear from her by now.

She booted up her laptop and paused when the screensaver photo appeared on the display. It was a photo of Danny, taken at their wedding. The photographer had snapped it just after they’d exchanged their vows and Danny had just kissed his bride. The picture captured Danny only. He had been smiling at her, the goofy smile she had adored, and his eyes had been full of love, his dimples marking his cheeks. Sophie had loved his dimples and they had laughed about their matching genetic defects. Dimples were an inherited trait and they’d talked about passing them on to their kids. But now that wasn’t to be.

She reached out and ran her fingers over the screen, tracing the angles of Danny’s face, the line of his lips, the dip of his dimples. The photo stirred mixed emotions in her—love and sadness—but she couldn’t bring herself to change the screensaver. She needed to see him still.

She moved her hand over the keyboard and logged onto the station’s WiFi, opening up her email account before she got too maudlin. She sent Luke a quick message and promised to give more details next time when she’d had a chance to get her head around everything and had something more substantial to report or had hopefully had time to explore. It was all so different. She copied the email to the AAP division headquarters in Hobart and to her parents in Queensland to keep them in the loop. At the moment everything was very strange and new and she had no idea how to verbalise her first impressions. In a day or two things might seem less surreal.

She checked the clock and decided she had just enough time to put fresh linen on her bed and change her clothes before making her way to the bar for pre-dinner drinks. She was feeling a little homesick but knew she just needed to keep busy. She closed the laptop. She didn’t need to see Danny’s face right now, she needed to keep a clear head.

She eventually found her way to the bar by following the noise. It was almost full. Most of the expeditioners who hadn’t left today must already be in the room. She swallowed nervously and wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. She never really liked walking into a room full of strangers.

She searched the room for a familiar face and spotted Gabe behind the bar. She headed in his direction. He saw her coming and grinned at her. Sophie returned his smile gratefully, feeling her nervousness about her new surroundings settle as she tried to fight the other butterflies that stirred in her stomach in response to Gabe’s smile. She had never had such a sudden and strong reaction to any man. Danny had been familiar and comfortable. She’d never before met a stranger who could make her go weak at the knees with just a smile and a glance.

‘What will you have?’ he asked.

‘What’s on offer?’

‘Most of the crew drink beer but most of that’s brewed here at the station over summer so it may not be to your liking. Other than that, there’s whatever we’ve shipped in. There’s an allowance of two drinks per day, for all sorts of reasons, but you’re welcome to one of Dr John’s red wines or one of my Tassie beers.’

‘Thanks, but I think I’ll stick with something soft.’ She wasn’t a big drinker and while she wouldn’t have minded a glass of something to relax her she thought it was more important to stay sober and focussed until she felt more at ease. She was already aware that people were looking at her with interest. She hadn’t expected to be the object of dozens of pairs of eyes all at once as she came under the scrutiny of the entire crowd. She knew the number of people on base shrank over winter but there were still far more people here than she had anticipated. ‘I thought most people went home for winter?’

Gabe nodded. ‘They do, but there are still thirty people here for now. Another twelve will be heading home when the supply ship makes its last journey before the winter season. They’ve got some final packing up to do in preparation for winter and then they’ll head off,’ he explained.

Sophie knew the supply ship, the Explorer Australis, was due to dock at Carey in six or seven weeks’ time after visiting the other two Australian Antarctic stations. The original plan had been for Dr John to be on board, in which case she would depart then. Until then, apparently, she would be responsible for the thirty expeditioners who remained on the base.

Gabe poured her a drink and then called the room to attention. ‘Everyone, I’d like you all to welcome, Sophie Thompson, our new doc.’

His introduction was followed by a chorus of ‘G’day, Doc,’ and Sophie suspected that from now on she was going to be known simply as ‘Doc’. She didn’t mind the idea—she was sure that being known as ‘Doc’ was preferable to being known as Danny’s widow.

‘You’ll gradually meet everyone but for now let me introduce you to Finn,’ Gabe said, as a tall, thin man approached the bar. ‘Finn is our watercraft operator and along with me and Alex he’s the third member of your medical support crew.’

Finn shook her hand. ‘We’re the important ones, Gabe, Alex and me,’ he said, his greeting accompanied by a wide smile. ‘We’re the ones you need to know.’

He took her under his wing and proceeded to introduce her to more of the crew throughout dinner. Sophie knew it would take a few days before she would be able to put all the names and faces and their job roles together, but luckily no one seemed to expect too much of her in the way of conversation. She ate quietly, happy to watch the interaction between the expeditioners and get a feeling for the different personalities and listen to their stories. She was surprised to find that the majority of them had family at home. She hadn’t realised so many would be in that situation and she wondered why they would choose to stay for months at a time if that was the case. But it seemed that many had been bitten by the Antarctic bug.

By the time dinner, a three-course affair that was apparently the norm, was finished and their dishes had been returned to the kitchen for the slushies to clean up, Sophie was exhausted. There had been a lot to absorb in the short time since she’d arrived and her eyelids were drooping as everyone made their way back to the bar. She listened to the plans being made around her—some of the guys decided to have a jam session, others were going to watch a movie—but Sophie just wanted to put her head down.

As soon as she thought it was polite to do so, she excused herself and went in search of her bed. Not that she expected to sleep well but it would be wise, she thought, to at least lie down. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Danny had died and she suspected that her insomnia would be compounded by her new surroundings and a different bed.

Back in her donga she was glad she’d had the foresight to make her bed. She changed into pyjamas and unpacked a soft cashmere blanket that she had carried in her hand luggage. The blanket had once been on the bed she’d shared with Danny and she liked to think it still smelt like him. She knew that was fanciful thinking but it was something that gave her some comfort. But the blanket was as much a practical item as a comforting one. It had seemed to Sophie that she felt the cold more now that she had no one to share her bed.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and climbed under the covers. She laid her head on her pillow as she thought about Danny.

She knew this experience would have been right up his alley. He had been an adrenalin junkie—not a risk-taker, any risks he’d taken had been calculated ones—and she knew he would have jumped at a chance to explore Antarctica. The company he and Luke had founded ran adventure tours all around Tasmania, offering everything from white-water rafting on the Franklin River, mountain biking down Mt Wellington, cycling the east coast, hiking on Cradle Mountain, rock-climbing and abseiling to kayaking. His job had taken him away from home, away from her, a lot but they had been planning on reorganising things to allow them to spend more time together as they’d hoped to start a family, but now it was just her and she had to make new plans. Solo plans. And today she had taken the first step on her new path.

‘Doc?’

A voice disturbed Sophie and she rolled over, still half-asleep.

‘Are you awake?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Doc.’ The voice was a little louder this time. A little more insistent. ‘You need to get up. There’s been an accident.’

An accident? Danny?

Sophie’s eyes flew open. There was a man standing beside her bed but he wasn’t fair and clean-shaven, like Danny. He was tall and dark and bearded. He looked familiar but it still took her a moment to work out who it was.

‘Gabe?’

What was he doing in her room?

There could only be one reason. She sat up.

‘What is it?’