The Doctor's Unexpected Proposal

by Alison Roberts

  Not that it mattered. Charles had approved, and convincing Emily had been a cinch given that her fear of getting into the chopper outweighed any other concerns.

  She’d done it, though, hadn’t she? With a quick glance to his left, Mike stopped feeling proud of himself and felt proud of Emily instead. You’d never think it to look at her—she wouldn’t look out of place behind an information desk in an academic library or some other such serious place—but she was gutsy all right.

  Emily had seen him looking, so Mike did what came automatically and smiled at her.

  ‘OK, babe?’

  She nodded but bent her head again quickly to stare through the small Perspex panel near her feet. ‘It’s really different from being in a plane, isn’t it? You can see so much more.’

  ‘Bird’s-eye view.’ Mike was relieved that Emily had remembered not to shout this time. She was a quick learner as well as gutsy.

  Moonlight bathed the outside world and visibility was great—with a ghostly but rather beautiful bleached effect. They were already past the sugar-cane plantations that surrounded the township of Crocodile Creek and over the foothills of rainforest-clad mountains now. The dense vegetation had been cleared in patches, and banana trees added to the tropical appearance of a landscape that Mike had grown up in and still loved with a passion.

  Checking his instruments, he banked to follow the main road that snaked towards the pass leading to the arid cattle country on the other side of the mountains. Emily squeaked softly and Mike could see her fingers sinking into the upholstery of her seat as the aircraft banked.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m not planning any aerobatics.’

  ‘Aren’t we going over the mountains? Like the plane does?’

  ‘Can if you want to, but the view’s better this way.’

  Grey-blue eyes were looking distinctly anxious again. ‘This thing can go high enough to get over the mountains, can’t it? If the weather gets bad or something?’

  ‘This is an MBB-Kawasaki BK-117,’ Mike informed her with an air of injured pride. ‘State-of-the-art rescue chopper. We’ve got a ceiling of 10,000 feet, a range of 338 miles with standard tankage, maximum speed of 174 miles per hour and a maximum climb rate of over 1700 feet per minute.’

  ‘Oh.’ Emily looked as though she was trying to do several mathematical calculations simultaneously. Her face brightened. ‘That’s OK, then, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yep.’ Mike couldn’t resist teasing her just a little. ‘We’ve got a thirty million candle-power nightsun, too. I can turn it on any time so you don’t need to be scared of the dark.’

  Emily snorted indignantly. ‘You’re the one who goes round spitting to ward off the evil eye, mate.’ She watched Mike adjust a control on the panel that sat between them. ‘Just out of idle curiosity, did you go round spitting on your helicopters when you were a member of that crack platoon or squadron or whatever you call them in the Special Air Services?’

  ‘Sure did.’

  ‘And what did your army buddies think about that?’

  Mike kept a straight face. ‘I suspect that anyone in the regiment that doesn’t spit for luck now gets left on the ground.’

  ‘Very unhygienic.’

  ‘Didn’t stop you doing it.’

  ‘No.’ He could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Well, sometimes you need a bit of luck.’ She was silent for a few seconds and then her tone became very wry. ‘Maybe I should spit on the next man to ask me out on a date.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise it.’ It was hard to keep his own tone light. ‘Unless he’s Greek, of course.’

  Dammit, Emily was thinking about Simon bloody Kent again. Mike’s fingers curled more tightly around the control stick. The man had better not show his face in Crocodile Creek again, that was for sure. He’d never been good enough for Emily, anyone could have seen that, but she’d fallen for him and if the others had shared Mike’s reservations, seeing the sparkle that emanated from the quiet young physician had been more than enough to stop them saying anything.

  Mike decided he needed to distract Emily from her thoughts. ‘Sounds like that young girl must be pretty sick to collapse like that.’

  ‘She may have just had a spell of low blood pressure. If she’s been unwell and lying in bed for a few days without adequate food or fluid intake, she could well have fainted by standing up too quickly.’

  ‘Her father sounded pretty anxious.’

  ‘Charles will have stayed in contact with him. He’ll call us if there’s any significant change.’

  Emily fell silent as she watched the set of instruments on her side of the dashboard.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Airspeed. In knots.’

  ‘And that one?’

  ‘Artificial horizon. Gives us our position in relation to the real horizon.’

  He kept answering the queries as Emily discovered the fuel gauge, engine temperature, altitude and vertical speed indicators.

  Now Emily was leaning towards him to examine the rest of the dials. ‘They’re exactly the same as the others!’

  ‘It’s a twin-engined craft. It would be possible to fit a second set of controls and have two pilots so there’s a duplicate set of instruments. Hey, maybe you should get your helicopter pilot’s licence.’

  Emily laughed. ‘Not in this lifetime, mate.’

  At least she wasn’t thinking about Simon the rat any more.

  It had lasted for months, that sparkle. If it hadn’t still been there when Marcella had ended her engagement to Mike and stormed off back to her native Italy six months after their arrival in Crocodile Creek, he would have…

  Would have what?

  Told Emily just how special he thought she was? That her living in and loving his home town had made an appearance on the list of why he hadn’t given in to Marcella’s ultimatum and left Crocodile Creek for ever?

  Not likely.

  Not when his ego had actually been rather dented by Marcella having dumped of him. Or when he’d never had a hint of anything more than friendship being available from Emily. And especially not when she was obviously still in love with Simon the cardiologist, whom she couldn’t see had no respect for hearts other than in their pumping capacity.

  Not many people knew just how patient he was capable of being, however. Or how highly he prized his friendships. However hard it was right now, he was not going to jeopardise a friendship or risk something even bigger by moving too fast. Or by telling Emily just how much better off she was without Simon in her life.

  And it was hard. As hard as it had been to watch that sparkle dimming and tendrils of unhappiness infiltrate Emily’s life over the last twelve months. She’d tried so hard to make the relationship work and Mike had been sorely tempted on more than one occasion to take her in his arms and tell her that Simon simply wasn’t worth the effort.

  Thank goodness he had trusted his instincts and left things to travel naturally to their inevitable conclusion. Emily needed to work things out for herself. To see what was staring her in the face and decide whether or not she wanted it.

  All Mike could do right now was to be there.

  And to be patient.

  The moonlight was even brighter as they neared their destination and it was quite light enough to appreciate the oasis that Wetherby Downs cattle station represented. The number of outbuildings and a cluster of what had to be staff accommodation made the hub of the station seem like a small village. A huge, majestic old homestead sat well to one side, isolated by a ring of irrigated lawns and gardens.

  ‘Wow, look at that!’ Emily breathed. ‘Almost medieval, isn’t it? The big manor-house and all the peasant cottages. This is where Charles grew up, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Mike hovered for a moment, looking past the homestead. ‘There’s the airfield.’

  ‘His younger brother runs the station now, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Philip,’ Mike confirmed.

  ‘And he’s married?’


  ‘To Lynley. Couple of teenage girls who go to boarding school down south.’

  ‘Charles never talks about them.’

  ‘No.’ Mike clearly needed to concentrate as he brought the helicopter down close to a floodlit area where a rangy stockman was standing beside a series of fuel tanks.

  Emily needed to distract herself from the landing process.

  ‘Did it have something to do with his accident?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Was it a disappointment to his family that he couldn’t take over running the station because he was in a wheelchair?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Mike reached overhead to ease the throttle control back and the engine noise abated as the rotors began to slow. ‘I was just a kid when it happened. I do remember seeing old man Wetherby in town once or twice, though. He was pretty intimidating. He had a reputation for being pretty rough. On his family as well as the blokes who worked for him.’ He unclipped his harness. ‘I’ll get on with the refuelling. Shouldn’t take long.’

  The helicopter felt strangely empty without Mike so Emily climbed out a minute later.

  ‘This is Wayne,’ Mike told her. ‘He’s the station manager for Wetherby Downs.’

  ‘Gidday.’ Wayne pushed the brim of his hat up and held out his hand. Emily winced inwardly at the firm grip. ‘Long way for you guys to get hauled out in a chopper. How far have you still got to go?’

  ‘We’re headed for Cooper’s Crossing,’ Emily said. ‘Next door, isn’t it?’

  ‘Been an accident?’

  ‘No.’ There was something weird about his tone, Emily thought. About the place in general, actually. This was Charles Wetherby’s family station but he wanted nothing to do with it. The Coopers were neighbours in an area of country that was so vast people depended on their neighbours for support, but clearly they hadn’t been in touch and Wayne sounded…disinterested.

  ‘Be Jim, then,’ the stockman decided. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised. Another heart attack, I s’pose?’

  ‘No.’ But Emily remembered how panicked the girl’s father had sounded on the radio. If Jim Cooper had a heart condition they might find themselves with more than one patient to care for. Some more information could well be useful. ‘Is he not well at the moment?’

  ‘Almost didn’t recognise him when I copped sight of him at the rodeo a few days ago. Looked like death warmed up.’ Wayne was watching the gauges on the fuel tank. ‘Thirsty beast, isn’t it?’

  ‘She’ll be pretty empty,’ Mike told him. ‘Auxillary tank holds over 100 litres and the internal one takes 380.’

  ‘Nice-looking bird.’ Wayne’s hat tipped further back as he admired the aircraft.

  ‘Yeah.’ Mike looked as proud as a new father and quite happy to embark on a conversation regarding the helicopter’s attributes but Emily cleared her throat.

  ‘When did Jim have the heart attack, Wayne?’

  ‘Fair while back now. Maybe two or three years ago?’ The hat had resumed its original position so Emily couldn’t read the man’s expression. She was startled when he turned his head and spat rather emphatically onto the dusty ground. ‘He should have sold up years ago. Farm’s been ruined now.’

  ‘Has it?’ Emily caught Mike’s glance briefly and he raised an eyebrow. There was no evil eye to ward off here.

  Or was there?

  ‘We’ve lost some good stock because they won’t do their share of the fencing.’ Wetherby Downs’ station manager sounded disgusted. And there was that trouble around Christmastime when one of the lads apparently took a shine to that Cooper girl. But never mind. The bank’s going to sort it out before long, from what I’ve heard.’

  A loud ding from the fuel tank seemed to signal a halt to any gossip. Wayne spat into the dust again and then turned away to coil the fuel pipe and hang it up. ‘That should do you,’ he said dismissively.

  ‘What did you make of all that?’ Mike queried as soon as they were airborne again.

  ‘There’s some bad blood around here. I think we might need to check Jim out as well as his daughter.’

  ‘You could be right.’

  ‘I don’t think Wayne’s Greek either.’ The instant smile from Mike was well worth the attempt at humour. ‘That was no token spitting.’

  ‘No…but look down there. He’s got a point about the fences.’

  They both fell silent as they flew over the Coopers’ station. The moonlight could not conceal how rundown the property was. If anything, it accentuated an almost desperate atmosphere. Some fences were broken, the land looked as though it was suffering a permanent drought and the cattle they could see looked ill-nourished and lethargic.

  The station homestead was only the size of one of Wetherby Downs’ many staff dwellings. The roofing iron was rusty, the paint peeling and the only decoration in the immediate vicinity was a tired-looking chicken coop and a clothesline with several limp garments attached to it.

  Mike turned on the powerful light beneath the helicopter as they came in to land and Emily could see a woman struggling to latch a gate behind several cattle. She was looking up at them, her expression a mixture of surprise and dread, and the tail end of the blast from the rotors whipped strands of hair across her face.

  Inadequate-looking repairs had been made with rope and sheets of corrugated iron to a section of the fence beside the gate, and Mike didn’t look happy.

  ‘Let’s just hope that lot holds until we can take off again. I don’t fancy getting stuck out here thanks to getting a cow tangled up in our rotors.’

  Emily was thinking about the woman as the skids made gentle contact with the almost bare earth of the paddock.

  ‘I don’t think she was expecting us,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t look very happy.’

  ‘No.’ Mike shut down the engine and pulled his helmet off. ‘Why don’t you grab the kit from the back and I’ll go and talk to her?’

  He had opened the clamshell door at the back of the chopper by the time the woman had run across the paddock.

  ‘I’m Mike Poulos,’ Emily heard him say. ‘From the Air Medical Service.’

  ‘But what are you doing here?’

  ‘We got called a couple of hours ago now. Are you Mrs Cooper?’

  ‘I’m Honey.’ The woman was out of breath but wasn’t going to be distracted by introductions. Her face creased into deep lines of anxiety and she shoved long strands of grey hair behind her ears. ‘I’ve been out trying to move the cattle and fix the damned fences again.’ The glance she cast over her shoulder towards the house was almost fearful. ‘Why didn’t she call me? It’s Jim, isn’t it? It’s his heart. I should never have left them alone…’

  ‘It was Jim who made the call, Mrs Cooper. It’s Megan who’s unwell, apparently.’

  But Honey Cooper wasn’t listening. She was running towards the house.

  Emily caught Mike’s hand as he reached to help her scramble from the back of the helicopter. He took the large pack containing their medical supplies in his other hand and then they were both running to catch up with the distressed Mrs Cooper. Mike hadn’t let go of Emily’s hand, though.

  She liked that.

  Honey stopped by the steps leading to a narrow veranda that wrapped around three sides of the house. The pause in her headlong flight was so abrupt that Mike and Emily narrowly missed cannoning into her.

  Emily pulled her hand free from Mike’s and touched Honey on the arm. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Cooper?’ She smiled. ‘Can I call you Honey?’

  She nodded, gulping in air and blinking hard. ‘I’m…scared to go inside,’ she admitted. ‘What if Jim’s…?’

  ‘Jim sounded fine when he called us, Honey.’ Mike’s voice was calm. Reassuring. ‘It was Megan he was worried about.’

  But Honey did not seemed reassured by this information. If anything, she looked even more alarmed.

  ‘What? Megan? What did he say? What’s Megan told him?’ She pulled away from Emily’s touch and almost stumbled up the steps in her haste. ‘But it’s only flu. She said s
he was feeling better today. I told Jim that.’ The words were tumbling out as Honey reached for the door. ‘You’d better come in anyway, now that you’re here, but Jim gets too worried about things.’ She opened the door. ‘It’ll be the death of him one of these days.’

  Emily glanced back at Mike as she climbed the steps but he looked just as puzzled. Why did Honey seem frightened? Just who was their patient going to be here, and was the situation anywhere near urgent enough to have summoned a rescue helicopter across hundreds of miles?

  The furnishings of the small house were faded, the floors bare, and there was no sign of a television or music centre or anything else that might add comfort to an isolated lifestyle. That the house was so immaculately clean and tidy somehow added to the sad feeling it engendered.

  Emily followed Mrs Cooper from the living area into a narrow hallway that led towards her daughter’s bedroom. The struggle this family was having had undoubtedly been going on for a long time. The house seemed to have absorbed some of its inhabitants’ weariness and it felt like they were only a very small step away from giving up.

  They were clinging to something, however—this small family. Seeing the way Honey rushed to the side of the small, wiry man waiting near the last doorway in the hall and the way he reached out to take her hands, Emily could sense the bond between this couple. A belief that, no matter how bad things got, they would make it through simply because they still had each other.

  ‘Jim! What on earth’s happened?’

  ‘It’s all right, Hon, don’t panic. I’m sorry—I thought you’d be back long before the medics got here. I went out to look for you but I ran out of puff.’

  ‘I was right over by the creek. The cattle had broken through the fence there, too. They’re desperate for feed, poor things. What’s wrong with Megan?’

  ‘I dunno. She doesn’t seem so bad now.’ Jim turned an apologetic gaze towards Mike. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve probably called you out all this way for nothing.’

  ‘We’d much rather get called out and find it’s not serious than the other way round,’ Mike assured him. ‘But seeing as we’re here now, how ’bout we check Megan out?’