couple of house bricks, pronounced.
Felicity gasped, a broad smile like the rising sun breaking over her face. ‘I’ve got a pulse,’ he confirmed, grinning back. ‘Jock?’ Callum pulled the mask away. ‘Can you hear me, Jock?’
Jock gave a slight moan and made a feeble attempt to move a hand. ‘Jock? Jock!’ Thelma threw herself down beside them.
‘Is he okay?’ she asked, looking first at Callum then at Felicity through puffy red eyes.
‘We got him back,’ Callum said. Both of them knew he wasn’t out of danger but it was something.
Felicity reached across and squeezed Thelma’s arm. ‘He’s still very unstable,’ she said gently. ‘But it’s a good sign.’
Callum was relieved when the train pulled into the station, even if the strobing of red and blue lights around the iron and tin structure of the roof created a bizarre discotheque. Very quickly a drowsy Jock was transported out of the train to the ambulance, accompanied by a paramedic, Callum, Felicity, Thelma and the rail guy with the radio.
Finally Callum had access to oxygen and a heart monitor. It was worrying to see multiple ectopic beats and runs of ventricular tachycardia, though, and Callum crossed his fingers that Jock’s heart would hold out until he got the primary cardiac care he so urgently needed.
Callum and the paramedic whacked in two large-bore IVs and then Felicity was helping Thelma into the ambulance and he was getting in the back with Jock. There was no question in his mind that he’d stay with the old man and hand over to the medivac crew when they landed at the airstrip in approximately fifteen minutes’ time.
He glanced out the back window as the rig pulled away, the siren a mournful wail in the deserted streets of the tiny outback town. Felicity was framed in the strobing lights, staring after the ambulance. She looked exactly the way he suspected they all probably looked. A little shell-shocked as the adrenaline that had ridden them hard started to ebb.
But also strong and calm. As she had been throughout.
This was not how he’d pictured tonight would end, and as the mantle of regret settled into his bones he knew their moment had passed.
He watched her with a heavy heart until she faded from sight.
FELICITY LAY AWAKE on her bed an hour later, staring out the window. The train was still stationary at Condobolin station, which was in darkness after the ghoulish flashing of emergency lights. Her compartment was also in darkness, except for the slice of light coming in from the hallway through her open door.
Callum hadn’t returned and she couldn’t sleep.
After the ambulance had disappeared she’d gone back to her compartment and showered, standing beneath the spray shaking like a leaf as the adrenaline that had sustained her during the emergency had released her from its grip.
She’d waited around in the lounge for a while after they’d gone, thinking Callum would be back soon. Some of her fellow passengers joined her, curious to know what was happening, but they didn’t linger and eventually Donald had urged her to go back to her compartment and try and get some sleep.
But she couldn’t. It was hard to shut her brain down after what had transpired.
She was about to give up, switch her light on and grab a book out of her bag when Callum strode by her door.
‘Oh...hi,’ he said, obviously surprised to see her awake and her door open as he pulled up short. She’d deliberately left it ajar because she didn’t want to miss his return.
Felicity sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘You’re back.’ She stood and took a couple of paces towards him, conscious, as he took up all the space in her doorway, of how different she looked now in loose yoga pants and T with bare feet, compared to the high-heeled, little-black-dress woman he’d been flirting with earlier.
He looked exactly the same. Only sexier. His calm and control when everyone else around them had been losing their heads had kicked his good looks up to a whole other level.
Why was competence so damn attractive?
‘How’s Jock? Did the medivac transfer go smoothly?’
‘Not really. He went into VF while we were waiting for the plane and we had to shock him twice to get him back.’
Felicity pressed her hand to her mouth, a hot spike of concern needling her. ‘I was worried something was going down. You were gone so long.’
‘I stuck around and helped them stabilise him for transport.’
‘Of course.’ They’d have wanted to have everything as controlled as possible before they loaded him on the chopper to avoid any chance of midair deterioration. ‘What are his chances, do you think?’ she asked, folding her arms.
‘I don’t know. He’s not very stable at the moment. It’s a forty-minute chopper flight to Dubbo hospital and by that time he’ll be about ninety minutes post–cardiac tissue injury. He’s inside the window, so fingers crossed, with some tertiary management he should be okay. I’ll check on him when we get into Adelaide tomorrow.’
Felicity nodded. ‘I guess we’re going to be kind of late into Adelaide.’
‘I guess we are. Although Donald reckons they’ll be able to make up a lot of the time.’
‘I’m in no hurry,’ she said, and gave him a smile because she could stay on this train and look at him for a decade and it probably still wouldn’t be long enough.
He smiled back, his gaze locking with hers. ‘Neither am I.’
There was silence for a beat or two while they just stood and smiled at each other in some weird moment of shared intimacy as only two people who’d been through such a high-stakes ordeal could.
The train moved forward unexpectedly and jostled him inside the compartment, bringing him a step closer. He ducked his head down to glance out the window. ‘Looks like we’re off.’
‘Yes,’ Felicity said, as she half turned to find the darkened station platform appearing to slowly move.
When she turned back he was staring at her with heat in his eyes. They’d been flirty earlier but now they were just plain frank. His gaze dropped to her mouth as he took a step towards her. Her breath hitched. The atmosphere thickened and pulsed with promise.
She’d resigned herself to this not happening but suddenly it was on again.
‘So...’ She swallowed to moisten her suddenly parched throat as he loomed big and broad and close enough to reach out and touch. ‘Not a technical writer, huh?’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Not a public servant?’
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to be regaled with a dozen different medical stories or be canonised as some kind of saint.’
‘You’re forgetting about
