her adoptive parents.’
‘She calls us Jill and Charles,’ Jill said inconsequentially.
‘Wendy says that’s OK.’
‘Yes, but I’d really like her to call me…’ She faltered. ‘But I guess that’s something I can get over. Charles, if you really mean it…’
‘I really mean it.’
‘Then I’ll marry you,’ she whispered, and despite the enormity of their decision Charles’s eyes creased into laughter.
‘I’m supposed to get down on bended knee.’
‘And I’m supposed to blush and simper.’
‘I guess we make do with what we’ve got.’ He caught her hand again and before she guessed what he intended he lifted and lightly brushed the back of her hand with a kiss. ‘It makes sense, Jill. There’s no one I’d rather marry.’
The sound of laughter echoed from the pathway. Across the lawn was the doctors’ house, a residence filled with young doctors from around the world. Doctors came here and gave a year or two’s service to the remote medical base.
Two young women were coming along the path now, in white coats, stethoscopes around their necks.
They were young and carefree and gorgeous.
There was no one Charles would rather marry? Jill doubted that. He was gorgeous, she thought. His disability was nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing in his eyes. It would always stop him giving his heart.
If he couldn’t give his heart, she may as well marry him, she thought. And, hey…
A tiny part of her…just a tiny part…thought marriage to Charles Wetherby might be…well…interesting?
Quite simply, Charles was the sexiest man ever to be stuck in a wheelchair, voted so by every single female medic who ever came here.
‘OK,’ she said, and managed a smile. The smile even felt right.
‘OK, what?’
‘I’ll marry you.’
‘Fine,’ he said, and grinned and let her hand go. ‘Let’s get this hernia organised and go into town and find us a ring.’
‘A ring…’
‘A ruddy great diamond,’ he said. ‘If we’re doing this at all, we’re doing it properly.’
‘Charles, no.’
‘Jill, yes,’ he said, and spun his wheelchair to the end of the veranda where the ramp gave him access to the outside path. Decision made. Time to move on.
‘Let’s tell Lily,’ he said. ‘She needs to approve. But, hell, we only have a month to make this legal. We may as well stop wasting time.’
‘Don’t…don’t tell Lily yet.’ It seemed too fast. Too sudden.
‘Tonight, then, when we tuck her into bed,’ Charles said. ‘But it has to be done. Let’s get a move on.’
CHAPTER TWO
HE NEVER wasted time. Charles Wetherby didn’t know what it was to stand still.
Jill stood beside Cal and handed over instruments as Cal carefully repaired Muriel Mooronwa’s inguinal hernia. It should have been repaired months ago. It had been seriously interfering with her life for over a year, but that Muriel agreed to have the operation at all was a huge achievement.
It was down to Charles, Jill thought. Ten years ago women like Muriel would have become more and more incapacitated, and probably ended up dying needlessly as the hernia strangulated. Muriel, like so many of the population round Crocodile Creek, was an indigenous Australian who’d been raised in a tribal community. She distrusted cities and all they represented. She distrusted white doctors. But Charles had brought these people a medical service second to none.
From the time Charles had been shot, his wealthy farming family had deemed him useless. Their loss had been the greater gain of this entire region. Charles had gone to medical school with a mission, to return here and set up a service other remote communities could only dream of. He’d had the vision to set up a doctors’ residence which attracted medics from all over the world. He talked doctors such as Cal, a top-flight surgeon, and Gina, an American cardiologist, into staying long term. His enthusiasm was infectious. Wherever you went, people were caught up in Charles’s projects.
Like Wallaby Island’s kids’ camp. As soon as his remote air sea rescue service was established Charles had got bored, looking for something else to do. The camp for disabled kids, bringing kids from all over Australia for the holiday of a lifetime, was brilliant in its intent. It brought kids to the tropics to have fun and it provided first-class rehabilitation facilities while that happened.
He acted on impulse, Jill thought as she worked beside him. What sort of impulse had had him asking her to marry him?
‘You’re daydreaming,’ Charles said softly. The main part of the procedure was over now. Cal was stitching, making sure the job was perfect. There was time for his helpers to stand back. Or, in Charles’s case, to wheel back. He had a special stool he used in theatre. He’d devised it himself so he could be on a level with what was going on and swivel and move at need. As director of the entire base it was reasonable to assume he didn’t need to act in a hands-on capacity, but the day Charles stopped working…
It’d kill him, Jill thought. The man was driven.
‘You’re dreaming diamonds?’ Charles said, teasing, and Jill gasped.
‘What…? No!’
‘Diamonds,’ Cal said, eyes widening. ‘Diamonds!’
‘Maybe just one diamond,’ Charles said. ‘Jill, seeing Gina and Cal are our babysitters-in-chief, I figure maybe Cal should be the first to know.’
‘You guys are getting married?’ Cal said incredulously.
‘Only because of Lily,’ Jill said in a rush, and the pleasure in Cal’s eyes faded a little.
‘Why?’
‘If we don’t get married Lily gets adopted by someone else,’ Charles said. ‘We’re sort of used to her being around.’
‘You mean you love her,’ Cal said gently, and the smile returned. ‘You want to tell me how it happened?’
‘Her uncle wants her adopted,’ Charles explained. ‘He’s her legal guardian. He wants a married couple.’ He turned to the tray of surgical instruments and focused on what needed attention.
Nothing needed attention.
‘We can’t let her go,’ Jill said warmly, life returning to her voice. ‘We all love her.’
‘Ofcoursewedo,’ Cal said. Lily was playing with Gina and Cal’s small son, CJ, right now. CJ and Lily
