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City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle
Marion Lennox
Table of Contents
With thanks to the fabulous Anne Gracie, whose friendship means the world to me.
Dear Reader
Sometimes reality meshes with the stories in my head. This year, a visit to a friend with a passion for ancient tractors was followed by a holiday to Coogee—one of Sydney’s fabulous beaches. While we were there the lights went out. No power! And, what was worse, no breakfast coffee. Aagh! So, while the love of my life tried to read his morning paper in a café so dimly lit I could barely see the table, I was forced to sit over cold cereal and think up a story instead.
The couple at the next table were fussing over their sleeping baby. They looked to be older first-time parents, and their love for each other and their joyful adoration of their beautiful daughter shone out despite the gloom. That’ll do, I thought, as I sulked over my orange juice. I named them Max and Maggie, and their lovely baby Rose. But there’s always an obstacle to a truly great romance, and suddenly those tractors sprang to mind. Sadly, that’s where my story stopped. There’s only so much a woman can do without caffeine :-(
Luckily the power came back on, and with it came coffee. Hooray, I thought as I headed home to start Chapter One. I’ve fallen in love with Maggie and Max and Rose and tractors. I hope you do, too.
Happy reading
Marion
Marion Lennox is a country girl, born on an Australian dairy farm. She moved on—mostly because the cows just weren’t interested in her stories! Married to a ‘very special doctor’, Marion writes Medical™ Romances, as well as Mills & Boon® Romances. (She used a different name for each category for a while—if you’re looking for her past Mills & Boon® Romances, search for author Trisha David as well.) She’s now had 75 romance novels accepted for publication.
In her non-writing life Marion cares for kids, cats, dogs, chooks and goldfish. She travels, she fights her rampant garden (she’s losing) and her house dust (she’s lost). Having spun in circles for the first part of her life, she’s now stepped back from her ‘other’ career, which was teaching statistics at her local university. Finally she’s reprioritised her life, figured out what’s important, and discovered the joys of deep baths, romance and chocolate. Preferably all at the same time!
CHAPTER ONE
THE road was narrow, with a sheer cliff face on one side and a steep fall-away to the sea on the other. The scenery was fantastic, but Dr Max Ashton was in no mood to enjoy the view. He’d had enough of this bucolic setting. He’d had enough of holiday. All he wanted was to get back to Sydney, to work and to solitude.
Which wasn’t happening anytime soon. As he nosed his gorgeous, midnight-blue sports coupé around the fourth blind bend since town, a cattle truck veered around from the opposite direction. The small but ancient truck wasn’t travelling at speed, and neither was he, but the road was too narrow to let them both pass.
The truck jerked sideways into the cliff-face and the back of the tray swung out to meet him. Collision was inevitable, and collision was what happened.
He wasn’t hurt—his car was too well built for that—but it took moments to react to the shock, to see past his inflated airbags to assess the damage.
Mess, he thought grimly, but no smoke. The cab of the truck didn’t look badly damaged, and his own car looked bent but not broken. Hopefully this meant nothing but the hassle of a probably uninsured idiot who didn’t know enough to keep rust-buckets off the road.
But the accident wasn’t over yet. There was a bang, like a minor explosion, and the back of the truck jerked sideways. A tyre had just decided to burst. As he stared out past his airbags, the steel crate on the rear of the truck lurched in sympathy—and didn’t stop. It slewed off the truck and crashed sideways down onto the edge of the road.
It was as if a bucket of legs was suddenly upended. A cluster of calves, a soft toffee colour, with huge eyes, white faces and white feet, was tumbling out onto the road. He couldn’t count them for sure. They were too entwined.
The tangle of calves, all legs, tails and wide, scared eyes, was scrambling for collective purchase, failing and pushing itself further toward the edge of the cliff. Before
