The Doctor's Unexpected Proposal

‘No.’ Mike clearly needed to concentrate as he brought the helicopter down close to a floodlit area where a rangy stockman was standing beside a series of fuel tanks.

Emily needed to distract herself from the landing process.

‘Did it have something to do with his accident?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Was it a disappointment to his family that he couldn’t take over running the station because he was in a wheelchair?’

‘Dunno.’ Mike reached overhead to ease the throttle control back and the engine noise abated as the rotors began to slow. ‘I was just a kid when it happened. I do remember seeing old man Wetherby in town once or twice, though. He was pretty intimidating. He had a reputation for being pretty rough. On his family as well as the blokes who worked for him.’ He unclipped his harness. ‘I’ll get on with the refuelling. Shouldn’t take long.’

The helicopter felt strangely empty without Mike so Emily climbed out a minute later.

‘This is Wayne,’ Mike told her. ‘He’s the station manager for Wetherby Downs.’

‘Gidday.’ Wayne pushed the brim of his hat up and held out his hand. Emily winced inwardly at the firm grip. ‘Long way for you guys to get hauled out in a chopper. How far have you still got to go?’

‘We’re headed for Cooper’s Crossing,’ Emily said. ‘Next door, isn’t it?’

‘Been an accident?’

‘No.’ There was something weird about his tone, Emily thought. About the place in general, actually. This was Charles Wetherby’s family station but he wanted nothing to do with it. The Coopers were neighbours in an area of country that was so vast people depended on their neighbours for support, but clearly they hadn’t been in touch and Wayne sounded…disinterested.

‘Be Jim, then,’ the stockman decided. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised. Another heart attack, I s’pose?’

‘No.’ But Emily remembered how panicked the girl’s father had sounded on the radio. If Jim Cooper had a heart condition they might find themselves with more than one patient to care for. Some more information could well be useful. ‘Is he not well at the moment?’

‘Almost didn’t recognise him when I copped sight of him at the rodeo a few days ago. Looked like death warmed up.’ Wayne was watching the gauges on the fuel tank. ‘Thirsty beast, isn’t it?’

‘She’ll be pretty empty,’ Mike told him. ‘Auxillary tank holds over 100 litres and the internal one takes 380.’

‘Nice-looking bird.’ Wayne’s hat tipped further back as he admired the aircraft.

‘Yeah.’ Mike looked as proud as a new father and quite happy to embark on a conversation regarding the helicopter’s attributes but Emily cleared her throat.

‘When did Jim have the heart attack, Wayne?’

‘Fair while back now. Maybe two or three years ago?’ The hat had resumed its original position so Emily couldn’t read the man’s expression. She was startled when he turned his head and spat rather emphatically onto the dusty ground. ‘He should have sold up years ago. Farm’s been ruined now.’

‘Has it?’ Emily caught Mike’s glance briefly and he raised an eyebrow. There was no evil eye to ward off here.

Or was there?

‘We’ve lost some good stock because they won’t do their share of the fencing.’ Wetherby Downs’ station manager sounded disgusted. And there was that trouble around Christmastime when one of the lads apparently took a shine to that Cooper girl. But never mind. The bank’s going to sort it out before long, from what I’ve heard.’

A loud ding from the fuel tank seemed to signal a halt to any gossip. Wayne spat into the dust again and then turned away to coil the fuel pipe and hang it up. ‘That should do you,’ he said dismissively.

‘What did you make of all that?’ Mike queried as soon as they were airborne again.

‘There’s some bad blood around here. I think we might need to check Jim out as well as his daughter.’

‘You could be right.’

‘I don’t think Wayne’s Greek either.’ The instant smile from Mike was well worth the attempt at humour. ‘That was no token spitting.’

‘No…but look down there. He’s got a point about the fences.’

They both fell silent as they flew over the Coopers’ station. The moonlight could not conceal how rundown the property was. If anything, it accentuated an almost desperate atmosphere. Some fences were broken, the land looked as though it was suffering a permanent drought and the cattle they could see looked ill-nourished and lethargic.

The station homestead was only the size of one of Wetherby Downs’ many staff dwellings. The roofing iron was rusty, the paint peeling and the only decoration in the immediate vicinity was a tired-looking chicken coop and a clothesline with several limp garments attached to it.

Mike turned on the powerful light beneath the helicopter as they came in to land and Emily could see a woman struggling to latch a gate behind several cattle. She was looking up at them, her expression a mixture of surprise and dread, and the tail end of the blast from the rotors whipped strands of hair across her face.

Inadequate-looking repairs had been made with rope and sheets of corrugated iron to a section of the fence beside the gate, and Mike didn’t look happy.

‘Let’s just hope that lot holds until we can take off again. I don’t fancy getting stuck out here thanks to getting a cow tangled up in our rotors.’

Emily was thinking about the woman as the skids made gentle contact with the almost bare earth of the paddock.

‘I don’t think she was expecting us,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t look very happy.’

‘No.’ Mike shut down the engine and pulled his helmet off. ‘Why don’t you grab the kit from the back and I’ll go and talk to her?’

He had opened the clamshell door at the back of the chopper by the time the woman had run across the paddock.

‘I’m Mike Poulos,’ Emily heard him say. ‘From the Air Medical Service.’

‘But what are you doing here?’

‘We got called a couple of hours ago now. Are you Mrs Cooper?’

‘I’m Honey.’ The woman was out of breath but wasn’t going to be distracted by introductions. Her face creased into deep lines of anxiety and she shoved long strands of grey hair behind her ears. ‘I’ve been out trying to move the cattle and fix the damned fences again.’ The glance she cast over her shoulder towards the house was almost fearful. ‘Why didn’t she call me? It’s Jim, isn’t it? It’s his heart. I should never have left them alone…’

‘It was Jim who made the call, Mrs Cooper. It’s Megan who’s unwell, apparently.’

But Honey Cooper wasn’t listening. She was running towards the house.

Emily caught Mike’s hand as he reached to help her scramble from the back of the helicopter. He took the large pack containing their medical supplies in his other hand and then they were both running to catch up with the distressed Mrs Cooper. Mike hadn’t let go of Emily’s hand, though.

She liked that.

Honey stopped by the steps leading to a narrow veranda that wrapped around three sides of the house. The pause in her headlong flight was so abrupt that Mike and Emily narrowly missed cannoning into her.

Emily pulled her hand free from Mike’s and touched Honey on the arm. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Cooper?’ She smiled. ‘Can I call you Honey?’

She nodded, gulping in air and blinking hard. ‘I’m…scared to go inside,’ she admitted. ‘What if Jim’s…?’

‘Jim sounded fine when he called us, Honey.’ Mike’s voice was calm. Reassuring. ‘It was Megan he was worried about.’

But Honey did not seemed reassured by this information. If anything, she looked even more alarmed.

‘What? Megan? What did he say? What’s Megan told him?’ She pulled away from Emily’s touch and almost stumbled up the steps in her haste. ‘But it’s only flu. She said she was feeling better today. I told Jim that.’ The words were tumbling out as Honey reached for the door. ‘You’d better come in anyway, now that you’re here, but Jim gets too worried about things.’ She opened the door. ‘It’ll be the death of him one of these days.’