The Australian's Proposal: The Doctor's Marriage Wish / The Playboy Doctor's Proposal / The Nurse He's Been Waiting For

‘Hope for what? What kind of hope?’

He grinned at her.

‘Well, I thought earlier you’d only come closer to me because you were worried about a gunman lurking out there somewhere, but if you’re brave enough to take on a couple of armed desperados, then I guess you were cuddling up to me because you like me.’

He touched her lightly on the head, lifting one of her curls and twirling it around his finger.

Dangerous territory, finger twirls in hair that felt very … comforting?

Kate took a deep breath, sorted her thoughts into order, shifted out of hair-twirling distance and tried to explain.

‘I do like you, what little I know of you, but I meant what I said about immunity, Hamish. Coming to Crocodile Creek is the first stage in getting on with my life. My birth mother came from here and I want to find out more about her—and who my father was. At the moment, I’m lost. Everything I believed in—the very foundations of my life, even love—proved to be a lie and right now I need to find some truths. Something to rebuild on. Can you understand that?’

He nodded, then stared out into the gorge for a few minutes before saying, ‘I could help you, Kate. Everyone at the hospital would help you. Some of the staff have lived in Crocodile Creek all their lives.’

‘No!’

The word came out far more strongly—and more loudly—than she’d intended, and she turned automatically to see if she’d disturbed Jack. He was still sleeping peacefully, so she repeated the word more quietly this time.

‘No, Hamish. I know you mean well, but this is something I have to do myself.’

She’d edged further away from him and Hamish knew she was withdrawing behind whatever feeble defences she’d been able to build up since her callous brother and unfaithful rat of a fiancé had delivered their separate but equally devastating blows. He could understand her reluctance to accept help because accepting help meant getting close to the helper, and right now, with everything she’d ever trusted in stripped away from her, getting close to someone wasn’t an option.

‘OK,’ he conceded. ‘But just remember, if ever you need anything at all, a little help, a hug—especially a hug—I’ll be there for you.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, but Hamish knew there was no way she’d be coming to him for a hug. She’d felt the same chemistry he had between them and hugs plus chemistry equalled trouble for a woman who claimed to be immune to love and who was fresh out of trust.

‘I’ll check our patient, then we should try to get some sleep,’ he said, standing up and moving back into the cave. ‘There are a couple more of those space blankets in the pack. It could get cold towards morning.’

Grateful to have something to do, Kate also stood. She’d noticed a couple more packs of the flimsy silver sheets they called space blankets when she’d pulled one out to cover Jack. She was aware they prevented heat loss from the body but was dubious about how warm they’d be if the night grew cold. Still, it was something to do and having something to do was important because it stopped her thinking about the mess her life was in. She’d talked bravely to Hamish of having to do this on her own, but it was the aloneness of her situation—the total stripping away of all she’d believed to be true—that frightened her the most. Far more than a man with a gun somewhere out there in the darkness of the gorge.

Hamish was attaching a new bag of fluid to one of Jack’s IV lines. He nodded towards the blood-stained bandage.

‘I’m just hoping it’s not running out faster than it runs in.’

‘Should we give him a clotting agent of some kind—or don’t the packs carry such things?’

‘They contain Thrombostat, which is topical thrombin. I put some on when I was dressing the wound. Because of Lucky, everyone at the hospital knows a lot more about von Willebrand’s disease than most non-specialist physicians would but I don’t know as much as I’d like to know. I know some coagulants work for some haemophilic patients and not others, depending on the missing blood factor in their particular disease. I wouldn’t like to try anything on him without checking a pharmacology text for contraindications or complications …’

He paused and sighed, but Kate understood his dilemma.

‘You don’t want to take the risk,’ she finished for him. ‘Well, hopefully the thrombin will work well enough to stop some of the bleeding.’

‘Externally!’ Hamish reminded her, hanging the second fresh bag of fluid. ‘Internally we haven’t a clue what’s happening. Damn that Digger for not leaving Jack’s gear with him. He’d have some kind of coagulation drug in it for sure, probably an inhalant.’

‘Unless he didn’t know he had von Willebrand’s. Some people don’t, do they?’

Hamish nodded. He was counting respirations. Their patient would make it through the night, he was sure of that. And providing they could stem the infection, he would recover from this wound. What he wasn’t sure about was what would happen after that. Lucky was the hospital’s miracle baby, but his mother, Megan, and her family had been going through a rough time for years, and now, right when it looked as if things might be coming good for them, Lucky’s father could end up in jail.

Hamish looked out into the darkness. Kate’s idea of finding the cattle duffers and bringing them to justice was suddenly very appealing.

And very stupid, he admitted to himself, but he turned to study the spunky woman who’d suggested it. She was unfolding a space blanket, her head bent as she concentrated on spreading it out, neat white teeth biting the corner of her lower lip. He saw her again as he’d first seen her, and heard her voice saying ‘piffle’ in a no-nonsense way to Jack.

You don’t fall in love because of a sunbeam turning brown curls golden, or because a husky voice says ‘piffle.’ But if he wasn’t in love then he must be sickening for something. Elevated heart rate, shallow respiration, a slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something disagreeable was lurking there—and all this without taking into consideration the stirring in his groin whenever he looked at the woman.

She’s not interested, he reminded himself. And who could blame her, after what she’s been through? Even if she was interested, she’s here on a mission and you’re going home in three weeks. Home to a position you’ve waited two years to secure, home to specialise in paediatrics—your life-long dream-come-true scenario. You cannot fall in love with Kate Winship.

‘Here’s your blanket. Do you want another of those dreadful biscuits from the provision pack?’

‘Those dreadful biscuits are proven to be life-sustaining. They probably contain more nutrition than your regular three meals a day.’

It would be nice to eat three meals a day with Kate …

‘But they taste terrible,’ Kate reminded him with a smile.

And have her smiling at him all the time …

‘Should we take turns to watch him?’ She nodded towards their patient.

‘I’ll doze beside him. I’ll need to change the fluid bags during the night, and probably see to fluid output as well. I think he’d prefer I tended him.’

Kate nodded, knowing this was an indication she should move a little further away to give Jack and Hamish privacy, but there was someone out there who might not want Jack rescued.

‘Bring the backpack to cushion the rock, and sleep on the other side of me,’ Hamish suggested, apparently reading her thoughts with ease. ‘I’m big enough to block Jack’s view of you, and to shade you from the lamplight. Come on. We’ll be warmer if we’re all close together.’

Not too close, Kate warned herself, but she lifted the pack and carried it around to Hamish’s side of the patient, opening it in the light first so he could get out what he’d need during the night, then pushing it into place against the rock wall.

‘I’m not sure that a backpack full of medical supplies makes the perfect pillow,’ she said, as she tried to shift box-shaped lumps around inside it.

‘Try sleeping against a folded aluminium stretcher,’ Hamish countered, but he leaned over and removed some of the boxes from her pack, stacking them neatly on the ledge. ‘Better?’

His face was shadowed but she knew he was smiling, because she could hear the amusement in his voice. He was a nice man, she decided—the kind of man a girl would be lucky to meet should she be on the lookout for nice in a man.

Or anything in a man.

Or a man …

Was it a sound that had woken her? Hamish must have turned off the lamp, for the cave was dark. Kate lay still, knowing any movement would rustle the silver blanket tucked around her body. Someone—or something—was moving out there.

‘Shh!’

She didn’t need the barely breathed warning but it was comforting to know Hamish was awake—comforting to feel his hand find her shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze.

He’d be a nice man to hug.

Good thing he couldn’t see the eye-roll that was her reaction to the stupid thought. She had to get a grip. What she needed was a big rock to hide behind, not a hug. What use were hugs if whatever was out there was a man with a gun?

‘Look!’