Wedding at Sunday Creek. Leah Martyn
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‘Oh, of course. I should have realised...’ Darcie forced herself to take a dispassionate look at him. There was no mistaking the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
A sliver of raw awareness startled her. The fact that suddenly she wanted to reach up and smooth away those shadows, slowly and gently, startled her even more. Especially when she reminded herself that, for lots of reasons, her trust in men was still borderline.
* * *
The staff residence was next door to the hospital with a vacant block in between. Like the hospital, it was of weathered timber with wide verandas positioned to catch the morning sun and to offer shade during the hot summers.
‘Here we are.’ Darcie opened the gate and they went in, the heady scent of jasmine following them up the front path.
‘Hello, who’s this?’ Jack asked, as a blue heeler cattle dog roused himself from under the steps and slowly came to meet them.
Darcie dimpled a smile. ‘That’s Capone.’
‘Because...?’ Jack bent and stroked the dog between his ears.
‘He seems to get away with everything.’
Jack chuckled. ‘Is that so, chum?’ The dog’s black button eyes looked back innocently. ‘He’s quite old, then?’ Jack had seen the sprinkling of white hair mottling the dog’s blue-grey coat. He went on stroking. ‘What’s his story?’
‘Apparently, he belonged to one of the old-timers of the district.’ Darcie recounted the information as she’d heard it. ‘He died here at the hospital and his dog wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t eat and just hung around.’
‘So the staff adopted him?’
‘Something like that. Naturally, he couldn’t be kept at the hospital so gradually they coaxed him over here and he’s seems content enough to stay.’
‘You’re a great old boy, aren’t you?’ Jack gave a couple of hollow thumps to the bony ridge of the dog’s shoulders. He was a sucker for cattle dogs. They’d had some beauties on the farm when he’d been growing up.
‘Well, he seems to have taken to you.’
‘Seems to.’ Jack’s expression softened for a moment.
Darcie took a shallow breath, all her nerve ends twanging. What a very compelling picture they made—a big man and his dog... She beat back the sudden urge to reach for her phone and take a picture. How absurd. How sentimental. Shooting her sensible thoughts back in place, she said briskly, ‘Let’s go in, shall we?
‘There are six bedrooms, all quite large,’ Darcie said as they made their along the wide hallway. ‘Our funding allows for some domestic help. Meg McLeish keeps everything ticking over. She’s a real gem.’
Jack managed a polite, ‘Mmm.’ He didn’t need this kind of detail but it was a female thing. He got that.
‘You should be comfortable in here.’ Darcie opened the door on the freshness of lemon-scented furniture polish.
Jack’s gaze tracked over the room, taking in the king-sized bed, fitted wardrobes and bedside tables. ‘This is great, Darcie. Thanks. I’ll manage from here.’
Darcie took a step back. Was he was trying to get rid of her? Tough. She hadn’t finished. ‘There’s a linen cupboard at the end of the hall where you’ll find sheets and towels. Sorry there’s no en suite bathroom. I think the place was built long before they were in vogue. But there are two bathrooms for communal use.’
Jack plonked himself on the edge of the bed. ‘Darcie—’ he held down the thread of impatience ‘—it’s all fine, thank you.’
‘OK...’ Her teeth bit softly into her bottom lip. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’
He looked up sharply with a frown. Had he offended her somehow? She’d tilted her chin in a gesture he was beginning to recognise. He pulled himself upright again. ‘I’ll just get cleaned up.’ His mouth tweaked into a wry grin. ‘I promise I’ll be more sociable then.’
‘Fine.’ Darcie spread her hands in quick acceptance and began backing away. ‘Come out to the kitchen when you’re through and I’ll find you that cold beer.’
* * *
Barely twenty minutes later Jack joined Darcie in the kitchen. She turned from the window. ‘You were quick.’ Her eyes flicked over him. Cleaned up and dressed in jeans and a pinstriped cotton shirt, he looked...well, more like a senior doctor should look, she concluded a bit primly. Crossing to the fridge, she took out a beer from a six-pack and handed it to him. ‘You Aussies seem a bit territorial about your brands. I hope you like this one.’
Jack barely noticed the label and twisting open the top he took a long pull. ‘Right at this moment I’d settle for any brand as long as it was cold.’ He hooked out a chair. ‘Are you joining me?’
She gave a stilted smile. ‘I have a glass of wine here.’
‘What do we do about meals?’ Jack indicated she should sit at the table with him.
‘At the moment there’s just Lauren and me.’ Darcie met his questioning look neutrally. ‘So it’s all been a bit haphazard, depending what shifts she’s on. We tend to just grab something from the hospital kitchen. But now you’re here, perhaps we should get a better system going. Do a regular shop.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ He rolled back his shoulders and stretched. ‘What about right now? I’m starved. What can the fridge yield up?’
‘There’s some watermelon and fudge,’ Darcie deadpanned.
‘OK,’ Jack said with studied calm. ‘I see you’ve covered all the essential food groups.’
Her spontaneous laugh rippled out, the action bringing her whole face into vivid life.
Instinctively, Jack swayed forward, staring at the sweet curve of her laughing mouth. And feeling something else. Oh, good grief. Instantly, he took control of his wild thoughts, anchoring his feet more firmly under the table.
Darcie tilted her head to one side. ‘If we’d known you were coming—’
‘You’d have baked a cake,’ Jack rejoined, sitting up straighter.
‘Or cooked a roast.’
He chuckled. ‘So, you’re telling me there’s nothing in the fridge we can make a meal with. No leftovers?’
She shook her head.
‘A remnant of cheese? A couple of lonely eggs?’
‘Sorry.’
‘What about the pub, then? Food OK?’
‘Pretty good.