The Bush Doctor's Challenge. Carol Marinelli
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two bush buddies wouldn’t have a clue about maternity arrangements.
‘Just the complicated ones.’ Kell gave a knowing nod and Bruce scratched his head.
‘It’s upside down, isn’t it?’
‘Breech,’ Abby said, trying to keep the note of superiority out of her voice. ‘She probably won’t need a Caesarean section, but it’s better to be on the safe side. Breech deliveries can be complicated.’
‘Is that right? Rightio, then.’ Taking his cue, Bruce threw the dregs of his drink onto the ground and took another moment or two to replace his lid and cup. ‘I’d better step on it. Will you be all right? I mean, if Shelly really is about to have the little tacker, do you want me to give anyone a call?’
‘Good idea,’ Abby said approvingly, then snapped her mouth closed as Kell overrode her.
‘Oh, we’ll be right.’ Kell shrugged again. ‘But more to the point, Shelly will kill me if I go summoning the troops. I’ll catch you later, then, Bruce.’ As Kell turned to go Abby stood there bemused for a moment before calling him. ‘What about my luggage?’
‘Bruce will bring it in later when he drops Ross back. I’ve only got the bike.’ Gesturing to a massive brute of a motorcycle parked in the middle of nowhere, he didn’t seem to notice or, more pointedly, chose to ignore Abby’s gasp of horror.
‘But my computer…’ Her voice trailed off as Kell gave her a curious look.
‘It will be fine. Bruce will only be gone an hour or so. No one’s going to take it.’
Maybe not, but if Bruce went and fell asleep at the controls, which Abby reasoned wouldn’t exactly be far off from where he was now, not only would all her drug rehab research go up the shoot, she’d be stuck in this God-forsaken place without the internet, and heaven forbid, the chance to email every last one of her family to tell them about the worst career move in history.
‘I’d like my computer, please.’ Standing her ground, Abby watched as Kell gave her another quizzical look, combined with another brief shrug.
‘Whatever you say. Hey, Bruce!’
Ambling his way over, Abby watched as the two men exchanged a few words, no doubt moaning about the little princess who needed all her gadgets. Well, let them moan, Abby thought fiercely, she needed her computer, it wasn’t exactly a big thing to ask!
‘Here you go.’ Handing her the black bag, Abby mumbled her thanks, her eyes travelling behind him to the large white building.
‘The clinic’s bigger than I thought.’
That was the understatement of the millennium. For weeks now Abby had been having visions of a tiny tin shack, with a rickety sign bearing a red cross on the outside. Maybe it was the word ‘clinic’ that had caused her misconception, conjuring up images of a halfway house, a holding bay until real help arrived, but the very white, very large building she was looking at now looked suspiciously like a hospital.
Kell nodded as Abby carried on staring. ‘It’s getting there. Half of it is still under construction, but it’s coming along. I’d take you round for a quick tour, but Ross asked me to keep an eye on Shelly. I can take you in, though. Clara’s on duty, she’ll be only too happy to show you around.’
‘That’s fine,’ Abby said quickly, suddenly overcome with nerves at the prospect of meeting everyone. ‘I’ll wait for the doctor.’ Her words came out horribly wrong, superior and condescending, but thankfully Kell didn’t respond, just climbed on the bike. It wasn’t as if he’d be up on the intricacies of hospital hierarchy to be offended by her words, Abby consoled herself, making a mental note to be a bit more diplomatic.
‘Do you want me to hold your computer for you?’ Kell volunteered as Abby eyed the bike suspiciously and lifted one very wary leg. ‘Would that make things easier?’
‘Thanks.’ He slipped the carry strap over his shoulder and waited patiently, a slight grin on his lips as Abby struggled to mount, her cheeks still burning from the mess she had made of his polite offer to introduce her. But it wasn’t only embarrassment and the thought of climbing on the brute of a thing that was giving Abby palpitations, it was the realisation that she had no hope of getting on, straddling the thing and riding the couple of kilometres or so to the homestead without touching Kell. Or more pointedly, without touching the vast expanse of naked skin that she simply couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from.
She wanted to ask him for a helmet, to point out the dangers of riding a bike without one. How dammed irresponsible they were being and how awful it would look in her obituary if an emergency doctor was killed riding a bike without one.
But what would be the point?
All that would achieve would be to make her look even more neurotic. Still, if this was how they got about here, she was going to make damned sure she bought one for herself, order one from the internet if she had to.
At least she had her computer.
‘Whoops.’ Midway through starting the engine, he stopped. Climbing off, Kell opened the back box Abby was leaning on and took out two of the offending objects. ‘Better to be safe. Ross would never forgive me if I killed the new doctor on her first day here.’
The annoying thing was, now that she’d got what she’d only seconds ago wanted, Abby had no idea what to do with the blessed thing. Oh, she could get it on, and hopefully it was the right way around, but the straps on Kell’s helmet had clipped together easily, whereas hers…
‘Here.’ He was standing next to her, clipping together the connection and tightening the straps under her chin. As unwashed and unkempt as he looked, this close up Abby realised it just wasn’t the case as she caught the faint scent of his soap mingling with a strong masculine deodorant that most definitely did the job. As he lifted his arms and fitted her helmet, pulling the straps so taut under her chin Abby was sure she might choke, the worst part of it all was that while she suffered this brief indignation there was no place else to look than at his very flat, very brown stomach.
OK, he was sexy, Abby admitted reluctantly, in a sort of overgrown, salt-of-the-earth way.
Very sexy, she conceded, eyes level with his epicentre. Even his belly button was sexy, which up to this point Abby had been sure was an impossible feat. Belly buttons were just that—belly buttons. But Kell’s, well, the hair around it circled gently, and Abby found herself momentarily mesmerised by the strange beauty of such a normally nondescript object.
‘Third time lucky.’ Kell grinned, climbing nimbly in front of her and shouting over his shoulder as the bike sprang into life between her thighs. ‘Let’s go.’
Abby had never been on a motorbike in her life. In fact, she’d barely graduated to getting the training wheels taken off her push bike before books had beckoned, or a drop of pond water placed under her father’s antiquated microscope had held more excitement than riding around the back garden in circles. And now here she was in the middle of nowhere, roaring along a dusty red road clinging on for dear life to a man she’d only just met.
It was terrifying, exhilarating and strangely…Abby’s mind clicked over, struggling against the whipping hair around her face to find the word she was looking for.
Sexy.
There it was again.
Thousands of dollars’ worth of chrome catapulting them along the rough, unsealed road, and it would be a lie by omission not to recognise the added thrill of Kell’s snaky hips beneath her hands, her fingers coiling through the loops on his shorts, and unless she wanted to fall off the palms of her hand had nowhere else to go other than resting on his warm, bronzed skin. Abby kept her body well back, though, leaning against the back box, terrified she might be catapulted forward and forced to touch more of him.
It was over too soon, and vague memories of the waltzers at the fairground surfaced as Abby took Kell’s hand and attempted to dismount with at least a shred of dignity.