The Bush Doctor's Challenge

‘You’re crying?’ His voice was questioning, concerned, but not for a second mocking.

‘I know.’ Abby sniffed loudly as she fished in her pockets for a handkerchief. ‘It’s never got to me like that—a birth, I mean. It’s always been nice, special.’ The words were buzzing in her head as Abby attempted to articulate the strange emotions that were assailing her. ‘But at the end of the day it’s been a job well done. Tonight it just got to me. Seeing Matthew, he was so cute, bringing the baby his book, and then Ross…’ Another tear splashed down her cheek and Abby wiped it away then gave in as a few more followed. ‘He was so thrilled, so delighted with his new daughter, yet he still managed to make Matthew feel number one.’

As Abby started to walk again, Kell pulled her back. ‘You think that’s a tear-jerker?’ His eyes were searching hers as Abby’s returned his stare. ‘Wait till you hear this—Matthew isn’t Ross’s son.’

He watched as Abby’s lips parted, as the tears started spilling again.

‘They’ve only been married a year, and you know what? He loves that little guy as if he was his own. That’s love for you.’

‘She’s a lucky woman,’ Abby said slowly, but Kell shook his head.

‘They’re all lucky.’ Taking her hand, he led her along the pathway. ‘They found each other.’

‘This is you.’

Pushing open the unlocked door, Kell stood back and let Abby into her new home.

Her luggage lay higgledy-piggledy on the dark wooden floor, no doubt courtesy of Bruce, and Abby stood a moment as Kell flicked on the light.

‘It’s pretty basic. Kitchen.’ He gestured ahead. ‘Lounge.’ Stomping along the hallway, he flicked on another light and Abby was somewhat surprised to find herself standing in a beautifully furnished room. A large wooden fan whirred away overhead bouncing a shadow off the white walls, broken by vast Aboriginal paintings, the native art so much more appropriate in its own setting than the museums Abby was used to seeing it in. The soft-cushioned cane furnishing looked inviting and the huge low table in the middle of the large room would be the perfect spot for her computer.

‘Oh.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I left my computer back at Ross and Shelly’s.’

‘Well, I’m not going back to get it,’ Kell said quickly. ‘That’s one little party I’m not breaking up.’

‘Of course not,’ Abby snapped, kicking herself for even mentioning it. ‘I was just saying.’

‘So we’re back where we started?’ Kell turned to her. ‘Arguing about a computer.’

‘Nobody’s arguing,’ Abby said defensively, but the closeness that had overtaken them since the delivery seemed to have gone, and to her surprise she missed it. ‘I was just…’ Her voice trailed off and after a reluctant pause she finally spoke. ‘I was just moaning…’ A smile wobbled on the edge of her lips as Kell waited for her to finish.

‘Again.’

‘Ready to see the rest of your place?’ His smile returned as Abby nodded. ‘Bathroom.’ Flinging open the door, Kell carried on walking as Abby poked her head in briefly. ‘Laundry.’ Opening a cupboard, he gave a wicked smile. ‘Washing powder. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s even an iron. All mod cons here.’

‘Very funny,’ Abby retorted, following a very broad back along a very narrow corridor.

‘Bedroom.’

Suddenly, Kell’s voice sounded thick as if he had a cold or had suddenly developed hay fever, but with a notable absence of flowers and not a sneeze in sight Abby could only assume that the sight of the vast queen-size bed was having a similar effect on Kell as it was on her.

A flimsy mosquito net dusted over the bed, the whirring fan billowing the voile gently against the crisp white sheets, emitting a low throbbing hum in the semi-darkened room, and for an inexplicable moment, never had a bed looked more tempting.

‘I think we’ve earned a drink,’ Kell said gruffly. ‘And if I know Shelly, there’ll be a few in the fridge.’

Eternally grateful he wasn’t suggesting the pub, Abby’s answer was for once positive. ‘Help yourself. I’m going to make my acquaintance with the shower.’

‘Better?’

Rubbing her hair with a large towel, Abby stepped into what was supposed to be her lounge and amazingly didn’t feel like a total stranger. She hadn’t known what to wear, but a pair of too new jeans seemed about right and a black sleeveless T-shirt was surely casual enough.

‘Much.’

‘I made some supper.’ The table had been haphazardly laid, and a slab of cheese surrounded by crackers beckoned her. ‘But we could head down to the pub now if you’re starving, or there are a couple of steaks in the fridge.’

‘This will be fine.’

Better than fine actually. Loading her knife with soft Camembert, Abby scraped it along a cracker before biting in. Never had cheese and crackers tasted so good, and as Kell poured iced water into two glasses Abby rallied at the prospect of more time with him.

‘We’ll have to go over soon,’ Kell added. ‘The locals will never forgive me if we don’t go and fill them in.’

‘What’s with the we?’ Abby questioned, nervous at the prospect of facing everyone, far happier to keep a professional distance. ‘It won’t take both of us to deliver the news.’

‘It took both of us to deliver the baby,’ Kell pointed out. ‘Don’t miss your pats on the back, Abby, it’s one of the perks of the job.’

‘So, are you always so laid back?’ Abby asked, resuming the conversation that had taken place in the warm euphoric glow of the baby’s birth.

‘Yep,’ Kell said simply, before elaborating. ‘The only trouble is that it doesn’t last. Me, I worry after the event. Give me a drama and I cope. Honestly, Abby, I don’t know why, but you can throw anything at me and I’m like a textbook, I just see what needs to be done and do my best to get on with it, I don’t even break a sweat. But afterwards…’ Kell let out a breath. ‘I’ll lie awake tonight imagining every possible thing that could have gone wrong. What if I’d still been waiting for your plane to come in? What if the head hadn’t delivered easily? What if—’

‘I get the picture,’ Abby moaned. ‘Unfortunately it hits me there and then. I’m constantly picturing the worst-case scenario.’

‘It’s just the way you work.’ Kell shrugged. ‘And it probably makes you a great emergency doctor. Hell, if I’m in trouble I want a doctor worried on my behalf.’

‘And I want a nurse who’s calm and efficient.’

‘Hey, maybe we’ll make the perfect team.’ Those dark eyes were smiling and that brittle exterior Abby normally so effortlessly portrayed seemed to be crashing down around her as she smiled back at the man beside her.

‘Maybe we will,’ she said softly. ‘Maybe we will.’

Everything about him screamed contradiction.

Everything about him had Abby entranced.

‘You don’t look like a nurse,’ Abby ventured, plunging her knife back into the cheese, flustered by her own rather personal observation.

‘You mean I don’t look gay?’ Kell laughed at her rather shocked features, but Abby quickly recovered.

‘Actually, add a handlebar moustache to those boots and skimpy shorts and you’d be a wow at the Sydney Mardi Gras!’

‘I was decorating!’ Kell laughed. ‘Anyway, in case you were wondering, no, I’m not gay.’

It had never even entered Abby’s head that he might be. Not for the briefest second. Some men might throw up that question every now and then, and a male midwife, oozing compassion and in tune with a laboring woman, might bring about one of those occasions, but somehow Kell wore it all well. ‘I wasn’t,’ Abby said quickly. ‘You just look more like a—’

‘Labourer,’ Kell suggested, totally unabashed. ‘Hell, you’re a snob, Abby.’