The English Bride. Margaret Way
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moved so he was in Curly’s sights. “Hi there, Curly. I’m not paying you to rest easy under a tree.”
This time Curly tried a smile. “Hi, boss. I wondered when you’d get here.”
“Don’t try to speak, Curly. Save your strength,” Grant urged, perturbed his man looked terrible. He’d get onto the flying doctor right away. Curly could be airlifted to Bunnerong, which had its own airstrip. The Royal Flying Doctor’s Cessna could land there.
“Bloody cats, would you believe it,” Curly groaned. “Bloody feral cats, savage little bastards. A whole pack of them came at me out of nowhere while I was off balance being as sick as a dog. Never had such a thing happen to me before. Must have scared them somehow. Reckon I passed a kidney stone I was in so much pain. The radio is out. Needs an expert. I had to land. Just made it before I passed out. Agony I tell ya! Hell wouldn’t be too strong a word for it. Now I open my eyes to an angel with eyes like the sky and hair like the sunset.”
“Don’t talk, Curly.” Francesca smiled, knowing it was taking too much out of him. “You’ve had a very bad experience. I’ll try not to hurt you but those scratches need attention.”
Curly gave the ghost of a cheeky grin. “Whatever you do to me, I’ll love it.”
Come to think of it she could pass for a celestial creature, Grant thought as he walked back to the helicopter to put through his calls. She could be counted on, too, to keep her head in an emergency as well. He had to admit he was impressed with her quiet efficiency.
A day later Curly was sleeping peacefully in hospital minus his gall bladder, lamenting the fact the “angel” who had tended his lacerations so tenderly had been replaced by a burly male nurse.
The following week saw the return of Fee and David Westbury, arms full of presents, looking wonderfully rested and increasingly affectionate after a fortnight on a small exclusive Great Barrier Reef island. Both wore becoming golden tans, Fee telling all and sundry she wasn’t in the least afraid of the sun, it was “absolutely” essential. Of course Fee was blessed with a good olive skin, well hydrated, well cared for and she’d spent nearly all of her adult life in misty England.
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