orientation documents when he’d first started. It had caught his attention because the Kennedy name meant money in Warragurra. The family construction company built or renovated just about every substantial public building in the town and had contracts on many of the cattle stations.
That’s why she hadn’t mentioned her last name when she’d introduced herself—typical Warragurra style. His brief experience with the three prominent families in town had been the same. They all assumed you knew them by the nature of their community standing. ‘We must have just missed each other. I started in September last year. So you must be Kate Kennedy?’
Her jaw stiffened slightly, the tremor running down her neck and along her arm. ‘My surname is Lawson.’ The words snapped out, matching the flash of fire in her eyes. Her body language brooked no argument. It clearly said, Get it right and don’t ask why.
He recognised her posture. He’d used it often enough himself to deflect questions. But it was a strong response over a name. Perhaps Lawson was her professional name? A lot of his female colleagues retained their maiden names for work.
He let it slide, wanting to establish some working esprit de corps. ‘You must have left just before I arrived in Warragurra. Welcome back, Kate.’
‘Thanks.’ Her eyes softened. A wistful tone entered her voice. ‘I hope it’s going to be good.’
‘Coming back from a long break is always a bit of an adjustment.’ He remembered how tough it had been when he’d returned to work after Annie’s death. All those sympathetic faces. He pushed the memory away. ‘Still, two weeks working with me will be a good way to ease back into the routine and then you’ll be set to take over your usual clinic runs.’
She blinked twice and her smooth brow creased in a fine line. ‘This is my usual run.’
His gut tightened, his unease strengthening. ‘But Emily—’
‘Was filling in for me while I was on leave.’
Her quiet words exploded like a bomb in his brain. No. No. He didn’t want this. ‘So you and I, we’re now Flight Team Four?’
‘We are.’ She smiled again.
Her enthusiastic vibes radiated around him, sparking off a trail of heat that coursed through him, completely disconcerting him. His mind creaked to the inevitable, unwanted conclusion. ‘And Emily has been reassigned?’
‘She has.’
‘Right.’ The tightness of his throat strangled the word. Think. This wasn’t really a problem. He’d just ask for another nurse.
The booming voice of the regional director sounded in his head. Teamwork is the key. Get your hormones under control and deal with it.
A shadow floated through Kate’s caramel-brown eyes before resignation pushed it aside. She laced her hands in her lap. ‘I’m sorry this change of roster caught you by surprise but I’m sure it won’t take too long for us to get used to each other.’ She gave a throaty laugh. ‘After all, I don’t bite.’
An image of her lush, red lips and her white teeth nibbling his neck slammed into him.
This wasn’t happening. He didn’t react like this to women. He couldn’t. For years he’d seen women as colleagues, employees, sisters, mothers, friends. He packaged women into neat, safe boxes.
And that was exactly what he had to do now. Find a box for Kate. She would go into the workbox. And it would be a very secure, firm box with a lid that would not open.
He could do that. Of course he could do that.
How hard could it be?
KATE twisted open the top of a bottle of ice-cold water and drank half of the contents in one go. After recapping the bottle, she ran it across the back of her neck, savouring the coolness against her hot skin. She glanced out toward the endless burnt brown paddocks and beyond to the horizon which blurred with shimmering heat. Cattle clustered under the few available scrubby trees, seeking shade in the midday heat.
Coming out of a European winter and straight back into a Warragurra summer was like crashing into a brick wall, except the wall was all-encompassing, energy-draining heat. She must be mad. She should have delayed her return and spent two more months in France and Italy. But Warragurra was home. At least it had been, and she planned to make it home again no matter what anyone else thought.
‘Hot one for you today, Kate.’ Barry Sanderson, the taciturn owner of Camoora Station, lifted his hat and ran his forearm across his sweaty brow.
Kate smiled. She’d missed the ironic understatement of the Australian outback. It was always hot in February in western New South Wales. ‘It’s a stinker. Thanks for giving me the shadiest spot on the veranda for my baby clinic.’
‘You know for as long as Mary and I are here, you’re always welcome at Camoora.’ Understanding crossed his weatherworn face before his voice became gruff, as if he’d exposed too much of his feelings. ‘Besides, we can’t have those babies overheated.’
‘Thanks, Barry.’ She continued swiftly, not wanting to embarrass him but grateful for his support. ‘I’d better get back to work. Can’t have the new doc beating me on my first day back.’
Barry put his hat back on his head. ‘You make sure you have some tea and scones with Mary sooner rather than later.’ He strode down the long veranda of the homestead, stopping to talk to Baden.
Kate watched the interchange—the stocky bushman and the tall, athletic doctor. Baden was as dark as Barry was fair. She’d been stunned this morning when he’d turned around and faced her on the plane. Yesterday’s pirate was a doctor.
A disconcerted doctor. He’d looked almost worried when he’d realised the two of them were now Team Four. That had thrown her. She was used to all sorts of expressions from half the town—disdain, hatred and loathing. But work was different. At work she was valued, admired, respected. Or at least she had been.
Teamwork was the basis of the Flying Doctors. The working day meant a lot of time was spent with your team colleague. She’d hoped to resume working with Doug Johnston, but he’d transferred to Muttawindi two months ago covering Bronte Morrison’s maternity leave. He wouldn’t be back in Warragurra for a year.
We must have just missed each other. I started in September last year. Her stomach dropped as she recalled Baden’s words. He and his family would have arrived in Warragurra just as the Kennedys had finally realised they had no legal standing to contest Shane’s will. Just as the vitriol in the local press had reached its zenith. In many circles in the town her name was mud. Perhaps Baden’s wife had heard the rumours and not heard the truth.
Tension tugged at her temples with a vice-like grip. Work was her sanctuary while she found her feet again in the town. She must make this assignment with Baden work. Only her actions could dissolve rumours and innuendo. She had to prove to him she was a professional who could be relied on, a team player. Someone he could depend on as much as he’d obviously depended on Emily.
She watched him walk along the veranda toward her, his moleskins
