A Wedding In Warragurra. Fiona Lowe

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A Wedding In Warragurra - Fiona Lowe


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      A tall, willowy woman met his gaze. A startled look crossed her face, racing down to bee-stung lips, which compressed slightly before relaxing into a hint of a smile. Large brown eyes, their gaze serious, blinked against a flash of surprise. ‘H-hello.’

      He guessed he looked equally astonished. Unexpected warmth spread through him at seeing her again. A type of warmth he hadn’t experienced in a long time. ‘Hello.’ He extended his hand. ‘I’m Baden Tremont and you cost me an extra forty-five dollars yesterday.’

      This time she smiled a full, wide smile and the serious edge in her eyes softened, changing her look completely. ‘A girl lives to accessorise, Doctor, didn’t you know that?’

      He laughed. ‘I’m learning fast.’

      She stepped forward with natural grace, taking his hand with a firm grip. ‘I’m Kate. Nurse Practitioner.’

      Her smooth skin glided softly against his palm and his mind emptied. A tingle of sensation shot through him, stirring his blood for the first time since Annie’s death.

      Shocking him to his toes.

      He abruptly dropped her hand. He covered his rudeness by indicating they should both sit down. ‘Pleased to meet you, Kate.’ Had she mentioned a surname? He forced a smile. ‘Call me Baden. We should buckle up. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Is Emily sick?’

      Kate slid into her seat, crossing her long legs. Baden’s gaze followed the movement as if hypnotised.

      Stop gawking. He dragged his gaze away and focussed intently on the buckles of the safety harness wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

      ‘I don’t think so. She looked her usual hale and hearty self this morning when she flew out to Barcoo Station with Linton.’

      Confusion snagged him. ‘Linton Gregory? The doctor in charge of A and E at the base hospital?’

      She nodded. ‘That’s right. A couple of times a year he spends two weeks with us. Emily always accompanies him as she has so much experience. It’s a good link between the two organisations. Bridge building never goes astray.’ Slender fingers expertly snapped the buckles of the harness in place. She tilted her head. ‘You’re frowning at me—is something wrong?’

      He started at the direct question. ‘Um, sorry. It’s just this has a surreal feeling of being my first day at a new school where everyone else knows each other and how things work. The only problem is that I’m not the new person, you are.’

      She laughed. ‘I’m not actually new. I’ve worked for the Flying Doctors for four years. I saw your name on the email that Jen sent out on Friday outlining the changes, so I assumed you were expecting me. Besides, didn’t Emily tell you?’

      Your email bounced back as undeliverable. Jen had tried to tell him but what about Emily? He racked his brains. ‘Come to think of it, on Friday night she did thump me on the back after beating me at pool and said, “Doc, you’re a good bloke to work with.”’

      Kate’s mouth broadened into a knowing smile. ‘That’s Emily’s code for saying goodbye.’

      A thread of unease vibrated deep inside him. Goodbye? No. He wanted to keep working with Emily. Emily was safe and uncomplicated. She didn’t stir up sensations he’d forgotten existed. Surely Emily was just spending a couple of weeks with Linton as part of the bridge-building exercise.

      Of course, that was it. Just a temporary change.

      Once he’d embraced the exhilaration of change. He used to actively seek it out, loving to juggle up the mix. But when Annie had got sick, uncertainty had marched into their life, changing it for ever. Now he craved stability for himself and Sasha. Especially for Sasha.

      Of course he could cope for a fortnight working with a tall and slender colleague even if her standard-issue blue blouse seemed to hug her in all the right places. She was a nurse, just like Emily. He swallowed a sigh as he caught sight of her toned calves. He didn’t suppose it was PC to suggest she wear trousers rather than shorts.

      The engines burst into life, their noise immediately killing the conversation. Baden lifted his green headphones over his ears and adjusted the black mouthpiece so he could hear any last-minute instructions from Glen.

      He loved take-off. Loved the roar of the engines, the thrust of power, the torque and the pressure against his chest as acceleration increased and the plane tilted for its fast climb. It gave him an endorphin rush every single time. He forgot his unease and relaxed into the power surge.

      The red earth of the outback opened out underneath them, endless red sand bound together by green-grey spinifex. A ute far below sent up a plume of dust into the cloudless blue sky as it travelled along a straight road. Kangaroos bounded with purpose in the cool of the morning. In an hour or so they’d be sheltering in the shade of the gnarled gum trees that clearly marked the winding path of the muddy Darling River, once the transportation lifeline of outback New South Wales.

      It took a lot of imagination to picture the ‘river jam’ of a century ago. One hundred paddle steamers had plied the river, their barges groaning with bales of wool as they’d connected the outback stations with the southern cities. In today’s drought, the river was a trickle of its former glory.

      He glanced across at Kate. Her eyes sparkled and her face glowed as she peered out the window, her fingers spread against the Perspex. She didn’t look like an experienced flight nurse. She looked like a child on her first flight.

      She turned away from the window and caught him staring at her. She gave an embarrassed shrug and spoke into her mouthpiece. ‘I love the view.’

      ‘It’s pretty spectacular if you’re not into green, rolling hills.’

      She nodded. ‘I’ve been in Europe and although I adored the greenness, I’ve just realised how much I missed this view. There’s a certain rugged beauty about scrubby vegetation and red sand.’

      Surprise snagged him. It was like putting together a difficult jigsaw puzzle. Right up to this point he’d thought she was a transfer from another base. ‘You’ve seen this view before?’

      ‘Oh, yes, lots of times.’ She picked up a procedures folder as if she was going to read rather than talk.

      He tried to ignore the irrational feeling of being overlooked. ‘But not recently?’

      She shook her head, her chestnut bob caressing her cheeks, highlighting the fine line of her jaw. She seemed to hesitate before speaking. ‘I’ve been away for six months. Today is my first day back.’

      Suddenly things started to line up in his brain. He vaguely remembered seeing the name Kate Kennedy on 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


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