Читать книгу Top-Notch Doc, Outback Bride - Melanie Milburne, Melanie Milburne - Страница 9
ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
IT WAS quite a juggling act, getting the whole of Kellie’s luggage into the back of Matt’s vehicle, even though he had only his carry-on bag with him. But there were other things in the rear of his car—tow ropes, a spare tyre and what looked to be his doctor’s bag, as it was very similar to hers, and a big box of mechanical tools, as well as a few pieces of hay scattered about.
Kellie stood to one side as he jostled everything into position and once the hatchback was closed she moved to the passenger side, but before she could open the door he had got there first and opened it for her.
‘Thanks,’ she said, feeling a little taken aback by his courteous gesture. Over the years she had become so used to her brothers diving into the family people-mover, each vying for the best seat with little regard for her comfort, that his gallantry took her completely by surprise.
‘Mrs Williams seems like a lovely lady,’ she said as she caught sight of the older woman driving off ahead of them to the road leading to town. ‘Did she come out to the airport just to see you? She doesn’t appear to have picked anyone up.’
‘Ruth Williams comes out to meet every flight,’ Matt said as he shifted the gears. ‘She’s been doing it for years.’
‘Why is that?’ Kellie asked, turning to look at him.
His gaze never wavered from the road ahead. ‘Her teenage daughter disappeared twenty years ago. Ruth has never quite given up hope that one day Tegan will get off one of the thrice-weekly flights, so she meets each one just in case.’
Kellie frowned. ‘How terribly sad. Did her daughter run away or was it likely to have been something more sinister?’
His dark blue eyes met hers for a moment before returning to the long straight stretch of road ahead. ‘She went missing without trace,’ he said. ‘As far as I know, the case is still open.’
‘Did she go missing from here?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘She was fourteen, nearly fifteen years old. She caught the bus home from school, she was seen walking along the main street at around four-thirty and then she disappeared. No one has seen or heard from her since. The police lost valuable time thinking it was just another bored country kid running away from home. Tegan had run away a couple of times before. Ruth’s now late husband, Tegan’s stepfather, apparently wasn’t the easiest man to live with. It was understandable that they assumed the girl had hitched a ride out of town. She was a bit of a rebel around these parts, truanting, shoplifting, driving without a licence, that sort of thing.’
‘But no one’s ever found out what happened to her?’ Kellie asked with a frown.
He shook his head. ‘There was no sign of a struggle or blood where she was last seen alive and her stepfather had an iron-clad alibi once the police got around to investigating things a little more thoroughly. And, of course, even after two decades there has been no sign of her body.’
Kellie was still frowning. ‘So after all these years Ruth doesn’t really know if her daughter is alive or dead?’ she asked.
‘No, but, as I said, she lives in hope.’
‘But that’s awful!’ she said. ‘At least when my mum died we had a few months’ warning. I miss her terribly but at least I know where she is. I was there when she took her last breath and I was there when the coffin was lowered in the ground.’
Matt felt his gut clench but fought against it. ‘What did your mother die of?’ he asked.
‘Pancreatic cancer,’ she said. ‘She became jaundiced overnight and started vomiting and within three days we had the diagnosis.’
‘How long did she have?’
‘Five months,’ she said. ‘I took time off from my surgical term to nurse her. She died in my arms…’
Matt felt a lump the size of a boulder lodge in his throat. ‘At least you were there,’ he said, his tone sounding rough around the edges. ‘Spouses and relatives don’t always get there in time.’
‘Yes…’ she said, looking down at her hands. ‘At least I was there…’
Silence followed for several minutes.
‘So where did you go on the weekend?’ Kellie asked.
Matt’s hands tightened fractionally on the steering-wheel. ‘I went to visit some…’ He paused briefly over the word. ‘Friends in Brisbane. It was their daughter’s thirtieth birthday.’
‘It was my birthday a week ago,’ Kellie said. ‘I’m twenty-nine—the big one is next year. I’m kind of dreading it, to tell you the truth. My family wants me to have a big party but I’m not sure I want to go to all that fuss.’ She swung her gaze his way again. ‘So was your friend’s daughter’s party a big celebration?’
His eyes were trained on the road ahead but Kellie noticed he was gripping the steering-wheel as if it was a lifeline. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It was very small.’
Another silence ticked away.
‘How old are your brothers?’ Matt broke it by asking.
‘Alistair and Josh are twins,’ she said. ‘They’re four years younger than me at twenty-five. Sebastian, but we always call him Seb, is twenty-three, Nick’s twenty and Cain is nineteen.’
‘Do they all still live at home?’
‘Yes and no,’ she said. ‘They’re a bit like homing pigeons—or maybe more like locusts—swooping in, eating all the food and then moving on again.’
Matt noticed her fond smile and marvelled at the difference between his life and hers. He had grown up as an only child to parents who had eventually divorced when he’d been seven. He had never quite forgiven his mother for leaving his father with a small child to rear. And his father had never quite forgiven him for being a small, dependent, somewhat insecure and shy boy, which had made things even more difficult and strained between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to either of his parents. They hadn’t even met Madeleine.
‘What about you?’ Kellie asked. ‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’
‘No.’
‘Are both your parents still alive?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you ever answer a question with more than one word?’ she asked.
The distance between his brows decreased. ‘When I think it’s appropriate,’ he said.
‘You’re not the easiest person to talk to,’ she said. ‘I’m used to living in a household of six men where I have to shout to get a word in edgeways, unless they’re in one of their non-communicative moods. Talking to you is like getting blood out of a stone.’
Matt felt his shoulders tensing. ‘I’m not a chit-chat person. If you don’t like it, tough. Find someone else’s ear to chew off.’
She sent him a reproachful look. ‘The least you could do is make some sort of an effort to make me feel at home here. This is a big thing for me. I’m the one who’s put myself out to come here to fill a vacancy, a vacancy, I might add, that isn’t generally easy to fill. Outback postings are notoriously difficult to attract doctors to, especially given the timeframe of this one. You should be grateful I’ve put my hand up so willingly. Not many people would.’
‘I am very grateful, Dr Thorne, but I had absolutely nothing to do with your appointment and I have some serious doubts about your suitability.’
‘What?’ she said, with an affronted glare. ‘Who are you to decide whether I’m suitable or not?’
‘I think you’ve been sent here for the wrong reasons,’ he said.
Kellie frowned at him. ‘The wrong reasons? What on earth do you mean? I’m a GP with all the right qualifications and I’ve worked in a busy practice in Newcastle for four years.’
He was still looking at the road ahead but she noticed his knuckles were now almost white where he was gripping the steering-wheel. ‘This is a rough-and-tough area,’ he said. ‘You’re probably used to the sort of facilities that are just not available out here. Sometimes we lose patients not because of their injuries or illnesses but because we can’t get them to help in time. We do what we can with what we’ve got, but it can do in even the most level-headed person at times.’
Kellie totally understood where he was coming from. She had met plenty of paramedics and trauma surgeons during her various terms to know that working at the coal face of tragedy was no picnic. But she had toughened up over the years of her training and with the help of her friends and family had come to a point in her life where she felt compelled to do her bit in spite of the sleepless nights that resulted. She had wanted to be a doctor all her life. She loved taking care of people and what better way to do that than out in the bush where patients were not just patients but friends as well?
‘Contrary to what you think, I believe I’ll manage just fine,’ she said. ‘But if you think it’s so rough and tough out here, why have you stayed here so long?’
‘I would hardly describe six years as a long time,’ he said, without glancing her way.
‘Are you planning to stay here indefinitely?’ she asked.
‘It depends.’
‘On what?’
He threw her an irritated look. ‘Has anyone ever told you you ask too many questions?’
Kellie bristled with anger. ‘Well, sor-ry for trying to be friendly. Sheesh! You take the quiet, silent type to a whole new level.’
He let out a sigh and sent her a quick, unreadable glance. ‘Look, it’s been a long, tiring weekend. All I can think about right now is getting home and going to bed.’
‘Do you live alone?’ she asked.
His eyes flickered upwards, his hands still tight on the steering-wheel. ‘Yes.’
Kellie looked out at the dusty, arid landscape; even the red river gums lining the road looked gnarled with thirst. ‘I guess this isn’t such a great place to meet potential partners,’ she mused. Swivelling her head to look at him again, she added, ‘I read this article in a women’s magazine about men in the bush and how hard it is for them to find a wife. It’s not like in the city where there are clubs and pubs and gyms and so on. Out here it’s just miles and miles of bush between neighbours and towns.’
‘I’m not interested in finding a wife,’ he said with an implacable edge to his tone.
‘It seems a pretty bleak existence,’ she remarked as the tiny township came into view. ‘Don’t you want more for your life?’
His dark blue eyes collided with hers. ‘If you don’t like it here, there’s another plane out at five p.m. on Saturday.’
She sent him a determined look. ‘I am here for six months, Dr McNaught, so you’d better get used to it. I’m not a quitter and even though you are the most unfriendly colleague I’ve ever met, I’m not going to be run out of town just because you have a chip on your shoulder about women.’
His brows snapped together irritably. ‘I do not have a chip on my shoulder about women.’
Kellie tossed her head and looked out at the small strip of shops that lined both sides of the impossibly wide street. It was certainly nothing like she was used to, even though Newcastle was nowhere near the size of Sydney or Melbourne, or even for that matter Brisbane.
Culwulla Creek had little more than a general store, which was now closed, a small hardware centre, a hamburger café, a service station, a tiny school and a rundown-looking pub that was currently booming with business.
‘The clinic is just over there in that small cottage,’ Matt said, pointing to the left-hand side of the road just before the pub. ‘I’ll get Trish to show you around in the next day or so once you’ve settled in at the Montgomerys’ house.’
As they drove past the pub, people were spilling out on the street, stubbies of beer in hand, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight.
‘G’day, Dr McNaught,’ one man wearing an acubra hat and a cast on his right arm called out. ‘How was your weekend in the big smoke?’
‘Shut up, Bluey,’ another man said, elbowing his mate in the ribs.
Matt slowed the car down and leaned forward slightly to look past Kellie in the passenger seat. ‘It was fine. How’s your arm?’
The man with the hat lifted his can of beer with his other arm and grinned. ‘I can still hold my beer so I must be all right.’
Kellie witnessed the first genuine smile crack Matt’s face and her heart did a funny little jerk behind her chest wall. His dark blue eyes crinkled up at the corners, his lean jaw relaxed and his usually furrowed brow smoothed out, making his already attractive features heart-stoppingly gorgeous.
‘Take it easy, Bluey,’ he said, still smiling. ‘It was a bad break and you’ll need the full six weeks to rest it.’
‘I’m resting it,’ Bluey assured him, and peered through the passenger window. ‘So who’s the little lady?’
‘This is Dr Thorne,’ Matt said, his smile instantly disappearing. ‘She’s the new locum.’
Kellie lifted her hand in a fingertip wave. ‘Hi, there.’
Bluey’s light blue eyes twinkled. ‘G’day, Dr Thorne. How about joining us for a drink to get to know the locals?’
‘I have to get her settled into Tim and Claire’s house,’ Matt said before Kellie could respond. ‘She has a lot of baggage.’
Kellie glowered at him before turning back to smile at Bluey. ‘I would love to join you all,’ she said. ‘What time does the pub close?’
Bluey grinned from ear to ear. ‘We’ll keep it open just for you, Dr Thorne.’
Matt drove on past the tiny church and cemetery before turning right into a pepper corn-tree-lined street. ‘Tim and Claire’s house is the cream one,’ he said. ‘The car will be in the garage.’
Kellie looked at the cottage with interest and trepidation. It was a three-bedroom weatherboard with a corrugated-tin roof, a large rainwater tank on one side and a shady verandah wrapped around the outside of the house. There was no garden to speak of, but not for want of trying, she observed as she noted the spindly skeletons of what looked to be some yellowed sweet peas clinging listlessly to the mid-height picket fence. There were several pots on the verandah that had suffered much the same fate, and the patchy and parched lawn looked as if it could do with a long soak and a decent trim. There were other similar cottages further along the street, although both of the houses either side of the Montgomerys’ appeared to be vacant.
Fixing an I-can-get-through-this-for-six-months expression on her face, Kellie rummaged for the keys she had been sent in the post as Matt began to unload the luggage. She walked up to the front door and searched through the array of keys to find the right one, but with little success. She was down to the last three when she felt Matt come up behind her.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘Let me.’
Kellie felt the brush of his arm against her waist as he took the keys and her heart did another little uncoordinated skip in her chest. She watched as his long, tanned fingers selected the right key and inserted it into the lock, turning it effortlessly before pushing the door open for her.
‘You go in and have a look around while I bring in your bags,’ he said as he opened the meter box near the door and turned a switch. ‘The hot water will take a couple of hours to heat but everything else should be OK. There’s an air-conditioning control panel in the lounge, which serves the main living area of the house.’
Kellie looked guiltily towards his car where her bags were lined up behind the open hatchback. ‘I don’t expect you to be my slave,’ she said. ‘I can carry my own bags inside.’
‘Then you must be a whole lot stronger than you look because I nearly bulged a disc loading them in there in the first place.’
She put her hands on her hips as if she was admonishing one of her younger brothers. ‘I am here for half a year, you know,’ she said. ‘I need lots of stuff, especially out here.’
‘I hate to be the one to tell you this but the sort of stuff you need to survive out here can’t be packed into four hot pink suitcases, Dr Thorne,’ Matt said, stepping back down off the verandah to his car.
‘What is it with you?’ she asked, following him to his car in quick angry strides. ‘You seem determined to turn me off this appointment before I’ve even started.’
Matt carried two of her cases to the verandah as she yapped at his heels like a small terrier. She was exactly what this town didn’t need, he thought. No, strike that—she was exactly what he didn’t need right now. He wasn’t ready. He wondered if he ever would be ready and yet…
‘Give me that bag,’ she demanded. ‘Now.’
Matt mentally rolled his eyes. She looked so fierce standing there with her hands on her slim-as-a-boy’s hips, her toffee-brown eyes flashing. For a tiny moment she reminded him of…
He gave himself a hard mental slap and handed her one of the bags. ‘I’ll bring in the rest,’ he said. ‘And watch out for snakes as you go in.’
She stopped in mid-stride, her hand falling away from the handle of her bag. ‘Snakes?’ she asked. ‘You mean…’ She visibly gulped. ‘Inside?’