Australian Bachelors: Outback Heroes: Top-Notch Doc, Outback Bride / A Wedding in Warragurra / The Outback Doctor's Surprise Bride

She could tell he wasn’t impressed. He gave her another rolled-eye look and turned back to his book.

‘What are you reading?’ she asked, after the turbulence had faded and the seat-belt light had been turned off again. Talking was good. It helped to keep her calm. It helped her not to notice all those suspicious mechanical noises.

‘It’s a book on astronomy,’ he said without looking up from the pages.

‘Is it any good?’

Matt let out a frustrated sigh and turned to look at her. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said. ‘Would you like to borrow it?’ Anything to shut you up, he thought. What was it with this young woman? Didn’t she see he was in no mood for idle conversation? And what the hell was she doing, arriving a week earlier than expected?

She shook her head. ‘Nope, I don’t do heavy stuff any more. The only things I read now are medical journals and magazines and the occasional light novel.’

‘I’m doing a degree in astronomy online through Swinburne University,’ Matt said, hoping she would take the hint and let him get on with his chapter on globular clusters. ‘There’s a lot of reading, and I have an exam coming up.’

‘You’re a very fast reader,’ she said. ‘Have you done a speed-reading course or something?’

Matt’s eyes were starting to feel strained from the repeated rolling. ‘No, it’s just that I enjoy reading,’ he said. ‘It fills in the time.’

‘So it’s pretty quiet out here, huh?’ she asked.

Matt looked at her again, really looked at her this time. She had a pretty heart-shaped face and her eyes were an unusual caramel brown. He couldn’t quite decide how long her hair was as she had it sort of twisted up in a haphazard ponytail-cum-knot at the back of her head, but it was glossy and thick and there was plenty of it, and every now and again he caught of whiff of the honeysuckle fragrance of her shampoo.

She had a nice figure, trim and toned and yet feminine in all the right places. Her mouth was a little on the pouting side, he’d noticed earlier, but when she smiled it reminded him of a ray of bright sunshine breaking through dark clouds.

‘No, it’s not exactly quiet,’ he answered. ‘It’s different, that’s all.’

She gave him another little smile. ‘So no nightclubs and five-star restaurants, right?’

Matt felt a familiar tight ache deep inside his chest and looked away. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No nightclubs, no cinemas, no fine dining, no twenty-four-hour trading.’ And no Madeleine, he added silently.

‘What about taxis?’ she asked after a short pause. ‘Do you have any of those?’

His eyes came back to hers. ‘No, but I can give you a lift to Tim and Claire’s house. I take it that’s where you’re staying?’

She nodded. ‘It was so kind of them to offer their house and the use of their car while I’m here. They sent me the keys in the mail. Believe me, that would never happen in the city. People don’t lend you anything, especially virtual strangers.’

Matt wondered again what had attracted her to the post. He even wondered if Tim and Claire and Trish had colluded to make the job as attractive as possible in order to secure a female GP, a young and single female GP at that—or so he assumed from her ring-free fingers.

‘So what do people do out here in their spare time?’ she asked. ‘Apart from reading, of course.’

‘Most of the locals are on the land,’ he said. ‘They have plenty to do to keep them occupied, especially with this drought going on and on.’

‘That’s what I thought you were at first,’ she said. ‘I had you pegged as a cattle farmer.’

‘I’ve actually got a few hectares of my own,’ he said, doing his best to ignore the brilliance of her smile. ‘I bought them a couple of years back off an elderly farmer who needed to sell in a hurry. I’ve got some breeding stock I’m trying to keep going until we get some decent rain.’

‘Is that where you live?’

‘Yes, it’s only a few minutes out of town.’

‘So do you have horses and stuff?’ she asked.

Matt looked longingly at his book. ‘Yeah, a couple, but they’re pretty wild.’

‘I love horses,’ she said, snuggling into her seat again. ‘I used to ride a bit as a child.’

The captain announced that they were preparing to land and she looked out of the window at the barren landscape. ‘So where’s the creek?’ she asked, and, turning back to him, continued, ‘I mean, there has to be a creek somewhere. Culwulla Creek must be named after a creek, right?’

Matt only just managed to control the urge to roll his eyes heavenwards yet again. ‘Yes, there is, but it’s practically dry. There’s been barely a trickle of water for more than three years.’

Her face fell a little. ‘Oh … that’s a shame.’

‘Why is that?’ he found himself asking, even though he really didn’t want to know.

‘I live by the beach,’ she said. ‘I swim every day, rain or shine.’

Matt felt his chest tighten again. Madeleine had loved swimming. ‘That’s one hobby you’ll have to suspend while you’re out here,’ he said in a flat, emotionless tone. ‘That is, unless it rains.’

‘Oh, well, then,’ she said with a bright optimistic smile. ‘I’d better start doing a rain dance or something. Who knows what might happen?’

Who indeed, Matt thought as the plane descended to land.

Kellie unclipped her seat belt once the plane had landed and reached for her handbag. Matt had risen to retrieve her bulging cabin bag from the overhead locker and silently handed it to her before he took out his own small overnight travel case.

‘So how far is it to town?’ she asked as they walked across the blistering heat of the tarmac as few minutes later.

‘Ten minutes.’

‘Tim and Claire’s house is a couple of streets away from the practice, isn’t it?’ she asked as they waited for her luggage to be unloaded.

‘Yes.’

She waved away a fly. ‘Gosh, it’s awfully hot, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Right, Kellie thought, that’s it. I’m not even going to try and make conversation. She’d spent the last six years with a house full of monosyllabic males—the last thing she needed was another one in her life.

She looked up to see an older woman in her mid-fifties coming towards them. ‘How did the weekend go, Matt?’ she asked in a gentle, concerned voice.

Kellie watched as Matt moved his lips into a semblance of a smile but it was gone before it had time to settle long enough to transform his features.

‘It was OK,’ he said. ‘John and Mary-Anne were very welcoming as usual, but you know how it is.’

The older woman grimaced in empathy. ‘It’s tough on everyone. Birthdays are the worst.’

‘Yeah,’ he said with another attempt at a smile. ‘They are.’

Kellie was intrigued with the little exchange but before she had time to speculate any further, the older woman glanced past Matt’s broad shoulder and smiled. ‘Well, hello there,’ she said. ‘Welcome to Culwulla Creek. Are you a tourist or visiting a friend?’

‘I’m the new locum filling in for Tim Montgomery,’ Kellie said, extending her hand. ‘I’m Kellie Thorne.’

‘Oh, my goodness, aren’t you gorgeous?’ the woman gushed as she grasped both of Kellie’s hands in her soft motherly ones. ‘I had no idea they had someone so young and attractive in mind.’

Kellie felt her face go hot but it had nothing to do with the furnace-like temperature of the October afternoon. She smiled self-consciously as she felt the press of Matt McNaught’s gaze as if he was assessing her physical attributes for the first time.

‘I’m Ruth Williams,’ the older woman said. ‘It’s wonderful you could come to fill in for Tim while he and Claire are overseas. So tell me, where are you from?’

‘Newcastle, in NSW. I did my medical training and internship there as well,’ Kellie answered.

Ruth smiled with genuine warmth. ‘What a thrill to have you here. We’ve never had a female GP before, have we, Matt?’

‘No,’ Matt said, frowning when he saw the luggage trailer lumbering towards them. In amongst the usual assortment of black and brown and battered bags with a few tattered ribbons attached to various handles to make identification easier, there were four hot pink suitcases, each of which looked as if their fastenings were being stretched to the limit.

Kellie followed the line of his gaze and mentally grimaced. Maybe she had overdone it on the packing thing, she thought. But how was a girl to survive six months in the bush without all the feminine accoutrements?

‘I take it these are yours?’ Matt asked, as he nodded towards the trailer.

She captured her bottom lip for a second. ‘I have a problem travelling lightly. I’ve been working on it but I guess I’m not quite there, huh?’

He didn’t roll his eyes but he came pretty close, Kellie thought but she also thought, she saw his lips twitch slightly, which for some inexplicable reason secretly delighted her.

‘It’s all right, Dr Thorne,’ Ruth piped up. ‘Dr McNaught has a four-wheel-drive vehicle so it will all fit in.’

‘Er …great,’ Kellie said, watching fixatedly as Matt’s biceps bulged as he lifted each case off the trailer.

‘I’m afraid there are no basic foodstuffs at Tim and Claire’s house,’ Ruth said with a worried pleat of her brow. ‘I would have bought you some milk and bread but we thought you were coming next week so I didn’t organise anything, and the corner store will be closed by now.’

‘It’s all right,’ Kellie assured her. ‘I had lots of nibbles in the members’ lounge while I waited for the flight to be called and I’ve got some chocolate in one of my bags. My brothers gave it to me. That will tide me over.’

‘That was sweet of them,’ Ruth said. ‘How many brothers do you have?’

‘I have five,’ Kellie answered, ‘all younger than me.’

Ruth’s eyes bulged. ‘Five? Oh, dear, your poor mother. How on earth does she cope?’

Kellie concentrated on securing her handbag over her shoulder as she reached for one of the pink suitcases. ‘She died six years ago,’ she said, stripping her voice of the raw emotion she—in spite of all her efforts—still occasionally felt. ‘That’s why I took this outback post.’ Or, at least, one of the reasons, she thought. ‘My father and brothers have become a bit too dependent on me,’ she said. ‘I think they need to learn to take more responsibility for themselves. It’s well and truly time to move on, don’t you think?’

Matt still wore a blank expression but Ruth touched Kellie on the arm and gave it a gentle comforting squeeze, her warm brown eyes misting slightly. ‘Not everyone moves on at the same pace, my dear, but it’s wise that you’re giving them the opportunity,’ she said. ‘It’s very brave of you to come so far from home. I hope it works out for you and for them.’

‘Thank you,’ Kellie said, glancing at the tall, silent figure standing nearby, his expression still shuttered. ‘I hope so, too.’

CHAPTER 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.’