The Australian's Proposal (Mills & Boon By Request): The Doctor's Marriage Wish / The Playboy Doctor's Proposal / The Nurse He's Been Waiting For (17 page)

But walking on the headland where she and Hamish had first kissed was not a good idea. Sure, she’d almost managed to put Charles’s revelations out of her head, but now she was far too conscious of Hamish—of the feel of his bones beneath the flesh of his fingers, of the warmth of the muscles beneath the skin of his thighs. Bits of Hamish she’d never even considered seemed to be calling to her, tempting her, pulling her towards him, so when he stopped at the highest point where the sea broke against the cliff beneath them, she turned into his arms and lifted her head for his kiss.

And what happened to not kissing Hamish any more? her conscience demanded.

Tonight’s different, she reminded it, although she knew that
was just an excuse. No matter what had happened, she shouldn’t, definitely shouldn’t, be kissing Hamish!

The pressure of his lips opened hers, and she tasted his uniqueness, tart yet sweet—addictive, as addictive as the feel of his body against hers and the strength of the arms that held her close. As addictive as the softly accented words he whispered in her ear, and the way his fingers caught a curl and twirled it round and round.

She sighed and he caught the sound in his mouth and turned it back to her, then the intoxication of the kisses took over and she stopped thinking, simply responding with her lips and hands, exploring more and more of him, knowing she needed to know him with every sense so she could keep the memory for ever.

‘I love this place. I could stay
—not
go back,’ he said quietly, when, sated with kisses, they walked again.

And knowing just how much the position in the paediatrics team meant to him, Kate understood the magnitude of the offer he was making.

She turned and put her arms around him, resting her head on his chest.

‘Oh, Hamish! That’s the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful thing you could ever have said to me, but it’s not a matter of geography. I know, having just found Charles, that leaving him would be very hard to do, but there are phones and emails and even planes that fly from here to there and back again. So …’

Knowing she needed words as she’d never needed them before, she searched her tired, over-excited mind.

But how to explain?

‘It’s love that worries me,’ she said in the end. ‘And all that love entails. The giving over so completely of oneself, the responsibility for someone else’s happiness—it frightens me too much, Hamish. Yes, it’s magic when it works—the magic that you’ve talked of, a precious magic. But when it doesn’t?’

She moved away from him but he drew her back, holding her in his arms as if he’d never let her go.

‘It’s love,’ she whispered again, hating the word that was paining her so much. ‘Love’s—love’s so full of hurt!’

And she pressed her face against his shirt and wrapped her arms around him.

They stood like that for a while, until he moved so they were side by side again. Then arm in arm, with saddened, heavy hearts, they walked back towards the old house.

Kate leaned against the gate of the cow paddock, watching Lily as she sat on the lush lawn inside the fence, pulling up handfuls of grass and feeding them to Oscar, chatting all the time, telling him she was going to live with Charles and that he’d be going to Wygera with the other bulls but Charles would take her to visit him often.

The gentle giant stood in front of her, carefully lipping the offerings from her small hand, a look of bemused benevolence on his face.

Kate felt Hamish’s presence a moment before he joined her, folding his arms on the top rail and resting his chin on them so he, too, could watch the pair.

He’d asked her so often to go back to Scotland with him but Kate knew that today—the day before he left—he wouldn’t ask again.

It was up to her.

She slid a glance towards him—saw the strong, angular planes of his face, the almost arrogant masculinity of this gentle, caring man, and her heart all but seized up when she considered never seeing him again …

‘It’s all about trust, isn’t it?’ she said, nodding towards the pair in the paddock. ‘By trusting Oscar, she’s virtually handed him her life, hasn’t she?’

‘It is, and she has,’ Hamish replied, and the depth of emotion
in his voice told Kate he knew she wasn’t talking about Lily and the bull. ‘But she’s young,’ he continued. ‘She’s never had reason to lose trust—never had it betrayed.’

Kate turned and looked properly at him, seeing the face she loved so dearly strained and tired.

‘But she lost her parents,’ she said, needing to argue with him no matter how tired he looked.

‘Death isn’t a betrayal,’ Hamish reminded her. ‘And it shouldn’t be seen that way.’

‘It wasn’t my parents’ deaths but that they hadn’t told me,’ Kate whispered, and Hamish took her in his arms and held her close.

‘Do you think I don’t know that, Kateling? Do you think I can’t feel your hurt or understand your unwillingness to trust again? I can and I do, but I can’t make you trust me. Trust’s something that has to be given freely or it’s a worthless gift.’

Kate looked up into the anguished eyes above her, then she rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the chin.

‘Will you take my trust?’ she murmured, and watched his anguish change to puzzlement then to something that looked like a very cautious hope.

‘Are you offering it?’ he asked, his voice harshly raspy with emotion.

Kate tried a tentative smile, and took a deep gulp of air.

‘I am,’ she said, and waited.

And waited.

Then Hamish gave a whoop that startled Oscar into skittishness and had Lily scolding both of them for giving her a fright.

‘You mean it? You’ll marry me?’

‘I do and I will,’ Kate said, her voice shaking so much she just hoped the words were distinguishable.

They must have been for Hamish’s grasp tightened, but belief, she realised, was still a little way off.

‘And Charles? Your family here? You do realise you have
family, don’t you? Beyond Charles, you and Jack are cousins. You and Lily are related.’

‘Charles said he’ll bring Lily to visit us. Jack and Megan and Jackson can come, too. I thought we might give Jack and Megan money for their fares as a wedding present. Then when you’ve finished your paediatric training …’

‘We’ll come back here?’ The words were hushed with disbelief, as if the last thing Hamish had been expecting was a miracle.

But something must have sunk in for he released her suddenly, stepping back and peering suspiciously down into her face.

‘Whoa! Back up here,’ he said sternly. ‘Charles said he’ll come and visit? He’ll bring Lily? How come Charles knows where you’ll be to visit, before you got around to telling me?’

Hamish watched the colour rise in her cheeks and wondered if he’d ever tire of looking at this woman. She raised those soft brown eyes, now brimming with embarrassment, then offered an equally embarrassed smile.

‘Everyone knows Charles knows everything,’ she teased, and though it was a brave try, Hamish refused to let her get away with it.

He raised his eyebrows and waited.

And waited.

‘Charles had a long talk to me this morning,’ Kate finally explained, then she swallowed hard and for a moment Hamish regretted pushing her. In fact, he wanted to take her in his arms and keep her there for ever, no matter how this miracle had happened.

But before he could do anything, she was speaking again.

‘He talked to me about my birth mother, not who she was and what had happened between them—he’d told me all of that before. But this morning he told me how much he’d loved her and how much he’s always regretted not going after her—not searching for her until he found her.’

Kate blinked but not before one tear had escaped, to roll slowly down her flushed cheek.

‘He said regret was a terrible companion with whom to spend your life, but even worse was the knowledge that he’d once been offered the very precious gift of love and he hadn’t grasped it with both hands. That, he said, was stupidity, and he hoped like hell he hadn’t passed on the stupid gene to his daughter.’

Now more tears were following the first, hurting Hamish’s heart just to look at them. He pulled her close and held her tightly, using her body to anchor his to the ground as the realisation that she was his for ever filled him with a heady, dizzying delight.

‘I love you,’ he managed to whisper gruffly, knowing the words needed to be said.

‘And I love you,’ Kate responded, drawing away from his embrace so she could look into his eyes. ‘With all my heart!’ she added.

Then she kissed him again, while across the fence Oscar nodded benevolently.

Everyone was there—Christina and Joe, back from New Zealand with Joe’s mother and sister in tow, Emily and Mike, Cal and Gina, CJ and Rudolph. Grace was there, and Susie, Georgie and young Max, and Jill, standing quietly next to Charles, who held Lily on his lap—all lining the drive between the house and the hospital—all yelling good luck and best wishes and waving streamers.

The old house that had seen so much now saw them go—a certain warmth departing with them. But it had stood too long to think love wouldn’t bloom again within its walls.

Alison Roberts

ALISON ROBERTS
lives in Christchurch, New Zealand. She began her working career as a primary school teacher, but now juggles available working hours between writing and active duty as an ambulance officer. Throwing in a large dose of parenting, housework, gardening and petminding keeps life busy, and teenage daughter Becky is responsible for an increasing number of days spent on equestrian pursuits. Finding time for everything can be a challenge, but the rewards make the effort more than worthwhile.

‘S
HH
, now, Felixx!’

‘Hush, OK?’

‘Silence. We have to have silence for Alanya to get well.’

For days this was all he’d heard, it seemed to Felixx. He crept around on the edge of Alanya’s illness, too scared to ask how bad she was, shut away from seeing her except for one or two short visits to the wellness shelter each day, during which he knew he had to be silent or she wouldn’t get better fast enough.

Sometimes he asked people, ‘How’s Mummy?’ He liked to call her Mummy because that’s who she was. She always wanted him to call her Alanya, because that was her spirit name, but as she couldn’t hear him right now, he said ‘Mummy’ and it helped a little bit.

The silence helped, too. He had to stay as quiet as anything, or she might not get well. He knew that, but it was so hard. The fish on his sneaker helped. Mummy had drawn it with his felt pens. Mostly the bright orange one. She’d done it the day he’d showed her the hole.

‘We can’t afford a new shoe just yet,’ she’d said. ‘So let’s make it special. The hole can be his eye, see?’

He could poke his finger in the hole. In and out. It was tight at first but now it was easy. His finger went in and out.

In and out.

It helped him to stay quiet. To stop the questions he so badly wanted to ask, like, ‘Mummy … Alanya … are you feeling better? Do you need more medicine?’

She didn’t seem to be eating very much. They gave her carrot juice to drink, to drain the toxins from her system. How long did toxins take to drain?

Where did they come out?

He was too scared to ask any of these questions, but he listened more than the healing sisters thought. He heard words like ‘worried’ and ‘taking too long’ and after this he stayed even quieter, stopped even asking, ‘How’s Mummy?’ in case his talking, even outside the healing shelter, was the thing stopping her from getting well.

Late one night … he couldn’t remember, maybe the sixth or seventh night of her illness … he couldn’t sleep, and crept over to the healing shelter because there was light coming from its windows. It was cold and his feet were bare and he didn’t dare go inside, but he listened underneath the window and heard more words. ‘Getting worse’ and ‘I don’t know’ and ‘ambulance’.

After this, everything got so confusing, when he thought about it he couldn’t think the way it had gone. He fell asleep on the couch on the veranda of the healing shelter, and a big car came with red lights. He hid under the blanket in case he got in trouble for being there. He heard men’s voices. ‘Too late’ and ‘useless’ and ‘bloody quack treatments’. Someone found him—Raina, one of the healing sisters—and he pretended to be asleep and she carried him gently in her arms to his bed, and by the time he got there
he must have really been asleep because he didn’t remember anything else until morning.

Then there were more words—’very peaceful’ and ‘gone away on the most wonderful journey’—but he was so good, he didn’t say anything himself in case it made Mummy … better call her Alanya … in case it made her worse. A lot of boring time went by. He wasn’t allowed to see her at all. He had some meals, breakfast and lunch. Were they saying it was Alanya who had gone on the wonderful journey? When was she coming back? He didn’t want to ask because that would not have been hushing and staying silent.

Raina sat him down and hugged him and kissed his forehead and told him, ‘Your auntie Janey is going to come and get you, sweetheart.’

He didn’t know he had an auntie Janey. He wanted to ask who she was and when she was coming but he was so, so good, he stayed quiet and silent and hushed and didn’t say a word.

‘Y
OU
’
RE
not!’

‘Yes, I am. What’s the big deal? It’s only a few days off work.’

‘You never take days off work. In all the time I’ve known you, Hannah, and that’s, what—three years? You’ve never missed a shift.’

Senior Nurse Jennifer Bradley collected the paper emerging from the twelve-lead ECG machine and Dr Hannah Jackson cast an experienced eye over the results.

‘Bit of right heart failure—there’s notching on the P waves but everything else looks pretty good for an eighty-six-year-old. No sign of infarct.’

The elderly patient, who had been sound asleep while the recording was being taken, suddenly opened her eyes.

‘Give it back,’ she said loudly. ‘You’re a
naughty
girl!’

The complaint was loud enough to attract the attention of several staff members near the central desk. Heads turned in astonishment and Hannah sighed inwardly. One of them would be her fellow senior registrar, Ryan Fisher, wouldn’t it? And, of course, he had a grin from ear to ear on overhearing the accusation.

Jennifer was stifling a smile with difficulty. ‘What’s the matter, Mrs Matheson?’

‘She’s stolen my handbag! I’ve got a lot of money in my purse and she’s taken it, the little blonde trollop!’

Hannah heard a snigger from the small audience by the central desk. It would have been a good idea to pull the curtain of this cubicle but in the early hours of a Monday morning, with the emergency department virtually empty, it hadn’t seemed a priority.

‘Your handbag’s quite safe, Mrs Matheson,’ she said soothingly. ‘It’s in the bag with your other belongings.’

‘Show me!’

Hannah fished in the large, brown paper bag printed with the label P
ATIENT
P
ROPERTY
and withdrew a cavernous black handbag that must have been purchased at least forty years ago.

‘Give it to me!’

Hands gnarled with arthritis fumbled with the clasp. The bag was tipped upside down and several items fell onto Doris Matheson’s lap. The contents of the opened packet of peppermints rolled off to bounce on the floor and a number of used, screwed-up handkerchiefs were thrown after them.

‘There, I told you! There was a
thousand
dollars in here and it’s
gone!’
A shaky finger pointed at Hannah. ‘
She’s
taken it! Call the police!’

Ryan wasn’t content to observe now. He was standing at the end of the bed. Faded blue eyes peered suspiciously at the tall, broad masculine figure.

‘Are
you
the police?’

Ryan flashed the ghost of a wink at both Jennifer and Hannah. ‘I’ve had some experience with handcuffs, if that’s any help.’

Hannah shut her eyes briefly. How did Ryan get away with this sort of behaviour? Sometimes, if he was any more
laid back, he’d be asleep. What a shame Doris hadn’t stayed asleep. She was sniffing imperiously now.

‘Arrest that woman,’ she commanded.

‘Dr Jackson?’ Ryan eyed Hannah with great interest. She couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth twitched. This
was
pretty funny. It was just a shame it was going to give Ryan ammunition he wouldn’t hesitate to use.

‘She’s stolen my money.’

Ryan stepped closer. He leaned down and smiled at Doris. One of those killer smiles he usually reserved for the women he was flirting with. Which was just about every female member of staff.

Except Hannah.

His voice was a deep, sexy rumble.
‘Really?’

Doris Matheson stared back. Her mouth opened and then closed. Hannah could swear she fluttered her eyelashes and stifled another sigh at the typical feminine reaction to being the centre of this man’s attention. The coy smile Ryan received was only surprising because of the age of their patient.

‘What’s your name, young man?’

‘Ryan Fisher, ma’am.’

‘And you’re a policeman?’

‘Not really.’ Ryan’s tone was that of a conspirator revealing a secret. ‘I’m a doctor.’

The charm he was exuding was palpable. Totally fake but, for once, Hannah could appreciate the talent. It wasn’t being directed at her, was it? She didn’t need to arm herself with the memories of the misery men like Ryan could cause the women who trusted them. It was certainly defusing a potentially aggravating situation here.

‘Ooh,’ Doris said. ‘Are you going to look after me?’

‘You’re about to go to X-Ray, Mrs Matheson,’ Hannah said.

‘What for?’

‘We think you’ve broken your hip.’

‘How did I do that?’

‘You fell over.’

‘
Did I?’
The question, like the others, was directed at Ryan despite it being Hannah who was supplying the answers.

‘Yes.’ Hannah looped her stethoscope back around her neck. ‘And we can’t find any medical reason why you might have fallen.’ The cause had been obvious as soon as Hannah had been within sniffing distance of her patient. She hadn’t needed the ambulance officer’s report of an astonishing number of empty whisky bottles lined up on window-sills.

Ryan was smiling again but with mock severity this time. ‘Have you had something to drink tonight, Mrs Matheson?’

She actually giggled. ‘Call me Doris, dear. And, yes, I do like a wee dram. Helps me sleep, you know.’

‘I’m sure it does, Doris.’ Ryan’s tone was understanding. He raised an eyebrow. ‘But it can make it difficult to remember some things, too, can’t it?’

‘Ooh, yes.’ Doris was looking coy again. ‘Do you know, I almost forgot where the bathroom was one night?’

‘Did you forget how much money you might have had in your purse, too?’

‘I
never
keep money in my purse, dear! It might get stolen.’

‘It might, indeed.’ Hannah got a ‘there you go, all sorted’ kind of glance from Ryan. She tried hard to look suitably grateful.

‘I keep it in the fridge,’ Doris continued happily. ‘In the margarine tub.’

‘Good thinking.’ Ryan stepped back as an orderly
entered the cubicle. ‘Maybe I’ll see you when you get back from X-Ray, Doris.’

‘Oh, I hope so, dear.’

Hannah held up her hand as her patient’s bed was pushed away. ‘Don’t say it,’ she warned.

‘Say what?’ Ryan asked innocently.

‘Anything about naughty girls,’ Jennifer supplied helpfully. ‘Or arresting them. And especially nothing about handcuffs.’

‘Not even fluffy ones?’

Jennifer gave him a shove. ‘Go away. Try and find something useful to do.’

They were both laughing as Ryan walked away. Relaxed. Enjoying the diversion of an amusing incident. But Jennifer could afford to enjoy Ryan’s company, couldn’t she? Happily married with two adorable small children at home, she was in no danger of being led astray.

Neither was Hannah, of course. She knew too much about men like Ryan Fisher. Great-looking,
fun
men like the ones who’d made her mother’s life a misery after her dad died, not to mention the guy who’d broken her sister’s heart not so long ago.

Hannah only ever let herself get involved with nice, trustworthy, serious men like her father had been. She’d believed herself to be totally immune to men of Ryan’s ilk.

Until three months ago.

Until she’d met Ryan Fisher.

Jennifer was still smiling as she tidied the ECG leads away. ‘I still can’t believe you’re taking time off,’ she told Hannah. ‘I’ve never even known you to be sick. You’re the one who always fills in for other people like Ryan when
they
take days off work.’

Hannah glanced towards the central desk. Ryan—the
king of holidays and all other good things life had to offer—was now leaning casually on the counter, talking to a tired-looking receptionist. Probably telling her one of his inexhaustible supply of dumb blonde jokes. Sure enough, a smile was starting to edge the lines of weariness from Maureen’s face.

‘I’m going to check the trauma room while it’s quiet,’ Hannah told Jennifer.

‘I’ll help you.’ Hannah’s news of taking time off had clearly intrigued her friend, who didn’t consider their conversation finished. ‘And there I was thinking that, if
I
didn’t drag you out occasionally, you’d spend all your time off studying or something.’

Hannah picked up the laryngoscope on top of the airway trolley and pulled the blade open to check that the battery for the light was still functional. ‘Are you saying I have no life?’

‘I’m saying your career takes the prize as your raison d’etre.’

‘I always wanted to be a doctor.’ Hannah snapped the blade back in line with its handle, switching off the light. ‘Now that I
am
one, I intend to be a very good one.’

‘You
are
a very good one. The best.’

‘We’ll see.’ The glance between the two women acknowledged the growing speculation within the department over who was going to win the new consultant position. She had been the only serious contender until Ryan had thrown his hat into the ring today. Was that why she was so aware of his presence in the department tonight? Why everything about him seemed to be rubbing her up the wrong way even more than usual?

‘Anyway …’ The wind had been taken out of Jenny’s sails, but not by much. She opened a box of syringes to
restock the IV trolley. ‘You don’t need to prove how good you are by living and breathing emergency medicine.’

‘So you’re saying I’m an emergency department geek?’ Hannah tilted the ceiling-mounted, operating-theatre light so it was in a neutral position. It would be fair enough if she was. Hannah loved this space. Fabulous lighting, X-ray and ultrasound facilities, every piece of equipment they could possibly need to cover the basics of resuscitation and stabilisation of a critically ill patient. Airway, breathing, circulation. To be faced with a life-threatening emergency and succeed in saving that life was all the excitement Hannah needed in her life.

Jenny caught her expression and clicked her tongue with mock exasperation. ‘I’m just saying you could do with more in your life than work.’

‘And that’s precisely why I’m taking a few days off.’

‘Touché.’ Jenny grinned, magnanimous in defeat. ‘OK.’ She shoved the syringes into their allocated slot and then used her forefinger to stir the supply of luer plugs and IV connectors, pretending to count. ‘So where the hell is Crocodile Creek, anyway?’

‘Australia. Far north Queensland.’

‘Oh! Has this got something to do with your sister?’

‘Yes. I’ve been invited to a wedding.’

‘Susie’s getting
married?
’

‘No, though I’m sure she’d be over the moon if it
was
her wedding. She’s being a bridesmaid to her best friend, Emily.’

‘Do you know Emily?’

‘No.’

‘So why have you been invited to her wedding?’

‘Well …’ Hannah leaned against the bed for a moment. It wasn’t often they got a quiet spell, even at 2 a.m. on a Monday morning and the break hadn’t gone on long
enough to get boring yet. ‘Susie didn’t have a partner to invite and we haven’t seen each other since she jumped the ditch and came to New Zealand for Christmas. I’m starting to feel guilty about how long it’s been.’

‘It’s only March and it’s a hell of a long way to go to ease a guilty conscience. Auckland to Cairns is about a six-hour flight, isn’t it?’

‘It sure is.’ Hannah groaned. ‘And then there’s the little plane from Cairns to Crocodile Creek, which will take another couple of hours, I guess.’

‘It must be a long way north.’

‘About as far as you can get. The hospital there is the rescue base for the whole of far north Queensland. That’s why I need the Friday on top of the weekend. I have to get right into the heartland of sugar and cane toads.’

‘Eew!’

‘Actually, it’s right on the coast. It sounds gorgeous.’

‘You’ve never been there before?’

‘No, and Susie’s been living there for as long as I’ve been working here. It’s high time I checked out what my little sister is up to.’

‘I thought you were twins.’

By tacit consent, the doctor and nurse were leaving the trauma room, satisfied it was ready for a new emergency. Hopefully, they’d be back in there soon with some real work to do.

‘She’s four minutes younger than me.’

‘And she’s a physiotherapist, right?’

‘Yeah. She started medical school with me but she hated it. Too much pressure.’

‘You must be quite different.’

‘Personality-wise, definitely. To look at, no. We’re identical.’

‘Wow! Do you have, like, that twin thing?’

‘Which “twin thing” is that?’ They were near the central desk now. Ryan had disappeared, presumably into the only cubicle with a drawn curtain. The nurse on triage duty, Wayne, was sitting, drumming his fingers on the counter.

‘You know, when one twin sprains her ankle, say, here in Auckland and the other twin falls over in a supermarket in central London.’

Hannah laughed, dismissing the suggestion with a shake of her sleek head. But was it so ridiculous? Was it just that she was missing a sister who had always also been her best friend or did those niggling doubts about how happy Susie was have a basis in some form of telepathic communication? Was the urge to travel thousands of miles at a very inconvenient time to attend the wedding of two people she only knew through Susie’s emails just an excuse?

‘Apparently this wedding is going to be great fun.’ Hannah tried to find a more rational explanation for the urge she hadn’t been able to resist. ‘The groom, Mike, is Greek and his parents own a boutique hotel right in the cove. Susie reckons it’ll be the biggest party the Creek has ever seen.’

Jennifer’s peal of laughter made several heads turn.

‘What’s so funny?’ Hannah’s eye was caught by the light on the radio receiver that linked the department with the ambulance service. It was blinking.

Jennifer could hardly get the words out clearly. ‘You’re going to
My Big Fat Creek Wedding
!’

Grinning, Hannah still managed to beat Wayne to the microphone. ‘Emergency Department.’

‘Auckland four eight here. How do you receive?’

‘Loud and clear,’ Hannah responded, her grin fading rapidly. ‘Go ahead.’