she’s sick?’ Mary Bolton stared at Kate hard. ‘How sick?’
‘It used to be called toxemia of pregnancy. Her blood pressure’s high and dangerous, for both her and her baby. I’m worried she could have a fit if it gets too high. They want her flown to Perth.’
Mary stared out of the window and then back at Kate. ‘I had that ‘clampsia thing. Scared the pants off the old man when he woke up and the bed was shaking, with me staring at him like a stunned rabbit unable to speak.’ Mary shrugged. ‘Or so he said—that was just before Lucy was born,’ Mary said matter-of-factly and Kate’s stomach dropped. Maternal history of eclampsia as well? So her mother had progressed to fitting. Kate closed her eyes. More risk for Lucy.
Mary glanced out of the window and frowned. ‘But the Flying Doctor won’t be able to fly in this weather.’
Kate looked out of the window to see what she already knew. The sky was heavy and purpling now. ‘I know. We’ll have to take her by road to Derby. Unless the weather clears further west and they can fly in and meet us at one of the stations along the way.’
Mary looked down at her daughter, then at Kate. ‘You must be worried, Kate, if you can’t wait here a day or two.’
‘I am.’
Mary grimaced. ‘We’re lucky you’re here. I’ll have to arrange for someone to take over the pub and mind the other kids, then I’ll follow. My sister lives in Derby. When does Lucy have to go?’
‘Today. Now. As soon as I can arrange it.’And that was when Kate realised the implications. By ambulance. The usual driver, Charlie, had retired and just left on his lifetime dream holiday. There was no one else with any training to come with her, and she really needed some bac-kup for this trip…
Sophie would be needed here and there was no one with any medical knowledge except—the second highest qualified paramedic in the state—she’d heard he’d got the Deputy job. The man from her past who’d flown in this morning to see her.
Rory was the last person she wanted to spend twenty-four hours locked in an ambulance truck with.
She turned away and looked into the room where Lucy lay. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe what she’d felt for him when she’d been sweet sixteen and besotted enough to practically force him to make love to her would be different.
Of course it would. He was ten years older now—that made him twenty-eight. With his job the onroad experiences would age anyone, so he’d probably have changed, put on city weight, look a lot older. She’d be fine.
The call came in just as Rory finished unpacking. Betty knocked like a machine gun on his door and Rory flinched from too many sudden call situations in the city. Maybe he did need this break away from work.
Betty in a battledress shirt and viciously creased trousers was a scary thing as she stood ramrod-straight outside his door, and he wondered if he should salute her.
He opened the door wider, but gingerly, because the handle felt as if it was going to come off in his hand. The place was falling apart.
The fierce expression on Shultzie’s face made him wonder if he was going to be put through an emergency fire drill. ‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘Kate Onslow’s on the phone for you. Best take it in the hall quick smart.’
He moved fast enough even for Shultzie to be satisfied.
Chapter Two
RORY parked the ambulance outside the front door of the clinic and climbed the steps to the wooden veranda. His boots clunked across the dusty wood as the wind whipped his shirt against his body.
He could remember riding out to one of the station fences in weather like this to shift cattle with his father, a big man then that no horse could throw, with the gusty wind in their faces and the sky a cauldron above their heads. He could remember them eyeing the forks of lightning on the horizon with respect. And he remembered his father telling him to forget about any future with Kate Onslow. That it wasn’t his place. She was out of his league.
His feeling of betrayal that his own father hadn’t thought him good enough for Kate either had remained until his dad had been fired not long after Rory had left, after twenty years of hard work, and his dad’s motive became clearer.
Lyle Onslow had a lot to answer for. The problem was Rory had always loved Kate. Not just because she’d hero-worshipped him since she’d started at the tiny station school but because he could see the flame inside her that her own father had wanted to stamp out.
He understood the insecurities she’d fought against and how she refused to be cold and callous like Lyle Onslow. She’d been a brave but lonely little girl with a real kindness for those less fortunate that never tipped into pity and her father had hated her for it.
It wasn’t healthy or Christian, but Rory hoped Kate’s father suffered a bit before the end. He shoved the bitter thoughts back into the dark place they belonged, along with the guilt that he’d caused his parents’ misfortunes.
No wonder he’d never wanted to come back after Kate’s letter. Kate, who hadn’t needed him for what seemed a lifetime but needed him now.
The lightning flickered and a few drops of rain began to form circular puffs of dust in the road. ‘Lovely weather for ducks,’ he muttered out loud—his mother’s favourite saying and one he hadn’t said for years—to shake off the gloomy thoughts that sat like icy water on his soul.
He pushed open the door and walked down the hall to the clinic.
Rory’s first sight of Kate winded him as if he’d run into one of those shutters banging in the street on the way.
He’d tried to picture this moment so many times on the way but she looked so different from what he’d imagined and a whole lot more distant.
She was dressed in fitted tan trousers that hugged her slim hips and thighs above soft-skinned riding boots. The white buttoned shirt just brushed her trim waist and an elusive curve of full breast peeped from the shifting vee of her neckline and then disappeared, a bit like his breath, as she turned to face him. He lifted his gaze.
Thick dark hair still pulled back in a ponytail, no sign yet of grey, but ten years had added a definition to her beauty—womanly beauty—yet the set of her chin was tougher and steadier and she’d probably reach his chin now so she didn’t look as fragile as he’d remembered.
Lord, she was beautiful.
He’d have liked to have sat somewhere out of sight and just studied her to see the changes and nuances of this Kate he didn’t know. Breathe in the truth that he was here, beside her, and acknowledge she still touched him on a level no other woman had reached. But his training kicked in. There’d be time for that later.
‘Rory,’ she said but she was talking to the wall behind his head, which was a shame because he ached with real hunger for her to look at him. ‘Thank you for offering to help.’ She barely paused for breath, as if to eliminate any possibility of other topics. ‘I’m worried about Lucy and the sooner we leave the better.’
Her voice was calm, unhurried, unlike his heart as he struggled for an equal composure. ‘I’ve fuelled the truck and packed emergency
