Wedding in Darling Downs

by Leah Martyn

  Was this the time to let her feelings run free and just trust him? Emma agonized as she opened her mouth under his and kissed him back.

  Chapter Seven

  IT WAS two days later and Lauren was icing cup cakes with Emma at the kitchen table after school. ‘Is Mum ever coming home?’

  Oh, please heaven, yes, Emma thought, her eyes clouding, but what to tell this sweet child? ‘Lauren,’ she said carefully, leaning over and gently curving her hand around Lauren’s slender little wrist. ‘Your Mum’s been sick.’

  ‘Like vomiting and stuff?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Well, not quite like that. But a lot of worries have made her sad and just not able to be with you all.’

  Lauren set two huge dark eyes on Emma. ‘How do you mean?’

  Emma’s mind scrabbled for a truth that might be acceptable. And then in a flash she remembered the explanation one of her trainers in paeds had given to a child whose circumstances had not been dissimilar to Lauren’s.

  ‘You’ve seen a balloon burst, haven’t you, Lauren?’

  The little girl’s eyes widened and then she nodded.

  ‘Well, your mum’s problems just kept piling up and up and each problem was like another puff into the balloon. And then it was just one problem too many and the balloon exploded.’

  ‘And she ran away…’

  ‘Yes.’ Emma met the child’s gaze steadily.

  Lauren looked suddenly lost. ‘Was she mad at us?’

  ‘Oh, honey, no…’ Emma scooped the little girl close to her. ‘Your mum was just mixed up.’ Emma smoothed a hand over Lauren’s fair hair. ‘But she’s been staying with some people who are helping her and she’s feeling so much better, we think she’ll be home with you again before too long.’ Emma mentally crossed her fingers about that. But, from what Declan had said only that morning, it seemed Tracey had made a remarkable turn-around and had begun a tentative reconnection with Carolyn. Tomorrow, Declan was taking her to see Adam at the hospital.

  ‘She might be back in time for our sports day,’ Lauren said, her little hand still trustingly in Emma’s.

  ‘Yes, she just might.’ Oh, Tracey, please don’t screw up, Emma pleaded silently to the absent mum. Please come home where you belong.

  The next morning, Emma welcomed a new patient, Rina Kennedy, into her consulting room. ‘You’re new to our community?’

  ‘We’ve just bought the garden centre,’ Rina answered in her soft Irish brogue.

  ‘That’s interesting,’ Emma said. ‘It looked like closing there for a while.’

  Rina made a face. ‘I don’t think the former owners had a clue what they were doing. But we aim to fix all that. It’ll be grand when we’ve done a makeover.’

  ‘Very good luck with it, then.’ Emma smiled. ‘Now, Mrs Kennedy, what can I do for you today?’

  ‘Call me Rina for starters. And I hope you don’t think I’ve gone soft in the head for coming to see you, Doctor, but I wanted to ask you about the best way to avoid getting sun damage to our skin. We’ve been hearing such terrible things about skin cancer since we’ve moved to Australia and our two little girls have the fairest complexions.’

  ‘You’re right to be concerned,’ Emma said. ‘Our summers here are hotter and the sun’s rays far more intense than you’d be used to in the Northern hemisphere.’

  ‘That’s what I thought…’

  ‘But mostly,’ Emma went on, ‘folk who suffer sun damage to their skin can only blame themselves, because they don’t take a blind bit of notice of what health professionals have been telling them for years. And that is to stay out of the sun in the hottest part of the day, to cover up with light protective clothing and, most importantly, to use sunscreen with the highest protection factor. A thirty-plus rating is the best.’

  ‘Could you write all that down for me, please, Doctor?’

  Emma smiled. ‘I’ll give you some fact sheets and you can read up on it. But if you’re sensible and keep a healthy respect for what excessive exposure to the sun can do, you shouldn’t have any problems.’

  Rina jerked a hand at the window. ‘It’s a lovely garden you have out there,’ she said with an impish grin. ‘But there’s always room for another shrub or two,’ she added, unashamedly drumming up business. ‘You must come along to our official opening when we’ve done our revamp. We’ll have some grand bargains.’

  Emma’s head went back as she laughed. ‘Let’s know the date and I’ll make sure all our folk from the practice are there with bells on and nice fat wallets,’ she promised. What a nice cheery person, she thought. Spirits lighter, Emma began to make her way through the day’s patient list and, at the end of it, she popped in on Declan.

  ‘Hi.’ He looked up from his computer, his eyes crinkling into a smile.

  ‘Is our Friday staff meeting still on?”

  ‘Hell, yeah. This is where we function properly as a practice. Thrash out all the hairy bits.’

  Watching his strong mouth, so sexy in repose, curve upwards in a smile, Emma felt her heart pick up speed. ‘See you shortly, then.’

  ‘I can’t believe how the time seems to be flying these days.’ Moira looked around the team with a happy smile. ‘Mind you, they say it does when you’re having fun.’

  ‘It’s certainly been interesting,’ Declan said. ‘OK, folks, any problems?’

  ‘Cedric Dutton,’ Libby said with feeling. ‘One of our patients on the list for a home visit.’

  Declan reclined in his chair and stretched out his legs. ‘What’s up with Mr Dutton?’

  ‘For starters, he lives alone. He had a stroke some while ago. He was treated in Toowoomba Base. But he’s not reclaiming his independence at all.’

  ‘Do we know why not?’ Declan cut to the chase.

  Libby shook her head. ‘The Rotary arranged the necessary safety modifications to his house, and the meals on wheels folk call but he appears to be just sitting in front of the television. It’s not like he doesn’t know better—he’s an educated man. He used to work as a surveyor with the council.’

  Declan’s eyes lit with sympathy. ‘The stroke will have come as a great shock to him.’

  ‘If Mr Dutton’s not moving about, we have to be concerned about pressure sores.’ Emma looked keenly at Libby.

  ‘We do,’ Libby agreed. ‘And he’s so very thin. But he wouldn’t let me touch him, let alone explain anything. There are a dozen things he could be doing to gain a much better quality of life.’

  Declan’s mouth drew in. ‘Possibly there’s a residue of post-trauma. Sounds like he’s scared to try himself out. Does he have family?’

  ‘He’s a bachelor,’ Libby said. ‘Extended family in Brisbane.’

  ‘Has anyone talked to him about the stroke itself?’ Declan queried. ‘The repercussions to his body?’

  ‘I imagine the nurses tried but he’s such an old chauvinist,’ Libby emphasized with a roll of her eyes. ‘He called me girlie!’

  Declan cracked a laugh. ‘Want me to have a word, then, Libs?’

  ‘Please, Declan, if you have time. He lives in one of the cottages along by the old railway line, number fourteen. Seems very much a loner, from what I could gather.’

  ‘Possibly another candidate for our water walking if we can get it up and running,’ Declan considered. ‘Which reminds me, I’ve been invited to a meeting of the school’s P&C committee on Monday night. It’s on the agenda to be discussed.’

  ‘Hey, that’s great,’ Libby enthused. ‘I’ve a list a mile long of folk who’d benefit. We’d possibly need to arrange transport, though.’

  ‘The council could be pressed into doing that,’ Moira contributed.

  ‘Hang on, people.’ Declan lifted a staying hand. ‘We’ve only got to first base yet.’

  ‘But it’s a positive first step and all down to you,’ Emma said, enthusiastic and proud on his behalf.

  Declan acknowledged Emma’s praise with a twist of his hand. Rocking forward, he doodled something on his pad a
nd thought life played weird tricks sometimes. Very weird. A year ago, he’d never in his wildest dreams have imagined he’d be here in rural Queensland practicing family medicine. Rather, he’d expected to be planning a quick rise to the top in his chosen field in one of Australia’s big teaching hospitals…

  Emma was now so tuned in to his body language she could read Declan like a book. He was doing his best to settle in, even enjoying the challenge to some extent. But was he also acknowledging that community medicine could never match the heart-pumping discipline of being a top-flight surgeon? And, if he was, could he let his dreams go so easily? Suddenly, the six months he’d promised for their trial period seemed so little time to work out whether they had a future together.

  Or apart.

  ‘Oh, Emma, while I think of it—’ Moira cast a quick enquiring look across the table ‘—Jodi wondered whether Lauren and Joel would like to spend some time out at the stables tomorrow. Apparently, there are a couple of quiet ponies they could ride and Jodi would be there to supervise them. She thought—well, we both thought—it might be a nice treat for them and, being Saturday, it could help fill in the time a little?’

  Emma was touched by Moira and Jodi’s kindness. In truth, she’d been wondering how she could keep the kids occupied over a whole weekend. There wasn’t a lot to do in Bendemere. She jumped at the offer. ‘I’m sure they’d love it, Moira. But is Jodi sure it’s OK with the McGintys?’

  Moira shrugged. ‘My granddaughter could sweet-talk a crow into singing like a canary if she had a mind to. I’ll tell her it’s all right then, shall I?’

  Emma nodded. ‘Did she mention a time?’

  ‘Morning’s good. And, speaking of the children—’ Moira looked at her watch. ‘Do you need to see to them?’

  ‘No, they’re spending the night back home with their grandfather.’ Emma smiled. ‘He was picking them up from school. Promised them pizza for tea, I believe.’

  ‘Good old Nev,’ Moira nodded in approval. ‘How’s Tracey doing?’ she asked gently. The whole practice in one way or another was now involved in the Jones’s ongoing saga and were all rooting for the family to be healed and reunited.

  Declan rubbed a hand across his chin. ‘I’m visiting Tracey tomorrow. She thinks she’s ready to see Adam. I’m picking up Nev and taking him along with me. He, at least, seems very optimistic things will work out.’

  ‘He’s the calming influence on Carolyn,’ Moira said wisely. ‘And he’s always had a soft spot for Tracey.’

  ‘There’s still a fair bit of sorting out to do yet.’ Declan was cautious. ‘Now, anything else on the agenda, guys?’

  There wasn’t a lot, so the meeting wrapped up quickly and Libby and Moira left.

  ‘How optimistic are you, really, about Tracey getting things together?’ Emma looked earnestly at Declan, her chin resting in her upturned hand.

  ‘Reasonably.’ He flexed a hand. ‘I’ve spoken to her on the phone each night and she’s surprised me with her turnaround. But then, the folk at the shelter have been working with her and her self-esteem has received a huge boost. Apparently, she’s been absorbing the counselling sessions like a sponge.’

  ‘Lauren has been quietly eating her little heart out about things, worrying whether her mum left because she was mad at them. I tried to reassure her and I hope I haven’t jumped the gun but I indicated Tracey might be back home soon.’

  ‘It’s best to keep positive around the kids,’ Declan said slowly. ‘I mean, what’s the alternative?’

  Emma bit her lip. ‘Awful,’ she agreed.

  ‘Hey, don’t let’s drop the ball.’ In an abrupt gesture of reassurance, Declan pressed her hand and then got to his feet. ‘Are you busy tonight?’

  ‘Er…no.’

  ‘Like to go out somewhere to eat later?’

  ‘Um…’ Emma flannelled. He’d taken her by surprise. ‘Where would we go?’

  ‘You choose. Better phone and book, though. It’s Friday night.’

  ‘OK…Are you heading home now?’ she asked as they walked slowly along the hallway and through to the main part of the house and eventually to the kitchen.

  ‘I thought I’d call in on Libby’s old chap first. See what I can sort out for him. I’ll pick you up about seven?’

  ‘Or we could meet at the restaurant.’

  ‘Let’s be old-fashioned.’ His mouth tipped at the corner. ‘I’ll call for you.’

  Emma pulled back, her nerve ends pinching alarmingly. So, were they going on a date? The thought thrilled her and panicked her in equal measure. ‘Fine. Seven’s good.’

  As Declan opened the back door, a gale-force wind nearly knocked him back inside. ‘Hell’s bells, when did the weather turn foul like this?’

  ‘Ages ago, probably without our knowing. We’ve been cloistered indoors. And it’s freezing, Declan.’

  ‘Rats!’ Declan turned up the collar on his windcheater. ‘After Scotland, this is nothing.’

  Emma began to rub her upper arms vigorously. ‘You won’t say that when the power lines come down.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  ‘It’s happened a few times since I’ve been here.’

  ‘Snap decision then.’ His eyes narrowed on her face and suddenly the intensity of his regard hardened, as though he’d made up his mind about something. ‘Change of plan. I’ll drop by Cedric’s, then head home for a shower and, on my way back to you, I’ll grab some stuff for dinner. Not a takeaway,’ he promised. ‘I’ll cook.’

  How could she refuse? It would be such a relief not to have to venture out on such a wild night. ‘If you’re sure? But I’ve stuff in the freezer—’

  ‘Please. Let it be my treat, Emma.’

  Emma gave an uneasy huff of laughter. ‘And you can cook?’

  ‘I promise it’ll be edible. Just trust me on this, all right?’

  Well, she had to, didn’t she? Emma thought as she closed the door after him and turned back inside. About dinner and about a lot of other things too.

  Declan felt the wind tear at his clothes as he made a dash to his car. But, far from being intimidated by its force, he felt exhilarated, wild, powerful. As if he could do anything he really set his mind to.

  If only that were an option.

  Following Emma’s directions, he soon found his way to the row of neatly kept cottages and drove slowly along until he found Cedric Dutton’s. Hefting his case off the passenger seat, he swung out of his car. Making his way to the front door, Declan lifted his hand and banged loudly. When there was no response, he called, ‘Mr Dutton? I’m a doctor from the Kingsholme surgery. I’d like a word. Could you let me in, please?’

  Declan waited and listened and, finally, there was a shuffling inside and the door was opened just a crack. Two faded blue eyes under bushy brows looked suspiciously out. ‘Who’re you?’

  ‘I’m a doctor from the Kingsholme surgery,’ Declan repeated. ‘May I come in?’

  A beat of silence while the elderly man digested the information. ‘No law against it, I suppose,’ he said, unlocking the chain and holding the door open.

  Once inside, Declan extended his hand. ‘Declan O’Malley, Mr Dutton.’

  ‘New around here, are you?’ Cedric looked over the imposing male figure while he held Declan’s hand in a fragile grip.

  ‘Yes. I’m in partnership with Dr Armitage.’ Unobtrusively, Declan watched his patient’s general mobility as Cedric led the way back inside to the lounge room.

  It took a little time for the elderly man to settle himself into his armchair. ‘So—why did you want to see me?’ he asked, seeming to sense the importance of Declan’s visit. ‘That girl’s being talking to you, I’ll bet?’

  ‘Libby Macklin is a Registered Nurse, Mr Dutton. It’s part of her job to check on our senior patients. We depend on her to tell us how your health is. She was concerned for you and she’s a skilled professional, otherwise, she wouldn’t be employed at our practice. You should have let her check you over.’
/>
  ‘Maybe.’ Cedric shrugged a skinny shoulder.

  ‘How’s your general health, Cedric?’ Declan’s voice was gentle. He didn’t want to antagonize his new patient from the outset.

  ‘Days get a bit long. I’m not as fit as I used to be.’

  ‘I understand that. What about your exercises?’ Declan asked. ‘Are you doing them? You know they’re essential to help your muscles recover from the stroke.’

  The elderly man hesitated. ‘Sometimes I do them. But it’s hard when everything’s crook…’

  ‘I know.’

  Cedric looked sceptical. ‘What would you know about it—young fella like you?’

  Declan snorted a hard laugh. ‘Oh, believe me, Cedric, I know.’ Briefly, Declan explained something of his own circumstances.

  ‘I get a bit down,’ Cedric admitted. ‘Like you said—’

  ‘Depression is all part of the syndrome.’ Declan leaned forward, his hands linked between his knees. ‘When your body won’t do what you want it to, you feel robbed of self-respect. And it’s hard when you lose everything you could once be sure of.’

  ‘My word, that’s it!’ Cedric looked impressed. ‘For a while there I couldn’t even get my pants on.’ His mouth compressed in a reluctant grin. ‘Or do up any buttons. And shoelaces were a lost cause.’

  Declan nodded sympathetically. ‘Was it explained to you just what a stroke is?’

  ‘Something about a blood clot, isn’t it?’

  ‘Exactly. A stroke happens when a clot blocks a blood vessel or artery in the brain. It interrupts the blood flow and suddenly the body is out of whack.’

  ‘Like damming a river,’ Cedric acknowledged thoughtfully. ‘I never cottoned on. But I do now you’ve explained it.’

  ‘So you can see why those exercises are so important, can’t you?’

  ‘Reckon I can.’ Cedric thought long and hard. ‘So, this Libby, the nurse, she could help me with that, could she?’

  ‘Yes.’ Declan nodded. ‘But I want you to come into the hospital one day a week for the next while and see our regular physiotherapist, Michelle Crother. I’ll arrange transport for you.’