Top-Notch Doc, Outback Bride

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 thereasons, 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.