‘Sure.’
It was crazy the way her stomach tightened as she crossed the road to Will’s parked truck. Crazier still the way her heart thrashed when she saw his tall figure waiting in the shadows beside the vehicle. He stepped forward when he saw her and the white shirt beneath his jacket glowed in the moonlight. Fire flashed in his light grey eyes.
‘Let me help you up,’ he said as he opened the truck’s passenger door.
‘I can manage.’ Lucy was anxious to avoid his gallantry. If Will touched her now, she might self-combust.
But managing alone wasn’t easy. With her arms filled with her bridesmaid’s bouquet as well as the bride’s white roses and with the added complication of her long straight skirt and precarious high heels, the whole business of clambering up into the truck was fraught with difficulties.
Will was full of apologies. ‘I forgot how hard it is to climb into this damned thing.’
‘If you hold the bouquets, I’m sure I can swing myself up.’
Without waiting for his reply, Lucy thrust the flowers into his arms. Then, grateful for the darkness, she yanked her skirt with one hand and took a firm grip of the door handle with the other. She stepped high and hauled herself up, and everything would have been fine if one of her high heels hadn’t caught on the step.
In mid-flight she lost her balance and then lost her grip on the handle and, before she could recover, she was slipping backwards.
Into Will’s arms.
She was crushed against his chest, along with several dozen blooms.
‘I’ve got you.’
Lucy wasn’t sure if the pounding of Will’s heart and his sharp intake of breath were caused by shock or the exertion of catching her.
Desperately, she tried to ignore how wonderfully safe she felt in his arms, how beyond fabulous it was to be cradled against his splendidly muscular chest. The wool of his expensive suit was cool and fine beneath her cheek. She could have stayed there…
‘I’m sorry,’ she spluttered. ‘Anyone would think I was drunk.’
‘The thought never crossed my mind.’
‘You can put me down, Will. I’m quite all right.’
‘I think it might be better if we do this my way.’
His face was in darkness so Lucy couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was deep and warm, like a comforting blanket around her, and he hoisted her up onto the front seat of the truck with astonishing ease.
‘Put your seat belt on,’ he said, as if she was a child. ‘And then I’ll pass you what’s left of the bouquets.’
Chastened, Lucy thanked him.
The glorious scent of crushed rose petals filled the truck’s cabin as Will climbed behind the wheel and pulled the driver’s door shut. But the fragrance couldn’t disguise the smell of ancient leather and it couldn’t block Lucy’s memories.
This was the first time in ten years that she’d been alone in the dark with Will, and stupidly she remembered that embarrassing kiss on the shadowy veranda at Tambaroora. She could remember exactly how he’d tasted and the warm pressure of his lips, the sexy slide of his tongue…
He turned to her. ‘Are you OK now?’
‘Perfectly,’ she said in a choked whisper.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, frowning at her, watching her intently.
She pressed a hand against her heart in a bid to calm its wicked thudding. ‘I was hobbled by this jolly dress and I slipped in the stupid heels.’ She sounded more astringent than she’d meant to. ‘After tonight, these shoes are going straight to the Country Women’s second-hand store.’
Will chuckled softly, then started the truck and soon they were rumbling down the street. Lucy buried her nose in the roses, glad that he didn’t try to talk all the way home.
But, in the silence, her thoughts turned back to their earlier conversation. Will had shocked her when he’d raised the subject of marriage and babies, but perhaps she shouldn’t have been so surprised. It was, as he’d said, happening all around them. Gina and Tom had their twins. Mattie was married.
She had been so busy trying to back away from the topic, so scared Will would discover how hung up she was about these very things, that she’d cut the conversation short.
Now she was left to wonder. Had he actually been leading up to something he wanted to discuss? She’d always been hurt by Will’s silence after Josh’s death and the miscarriage. He’d never given her the chance to confess why she’d become involved with his brother.
Of course, it would be dreadfully difficult to tell him the truth, but she’d always felt guilty and she wanted to come clean. Perhaps then she would be able to put it behind her at last. She might, at last, stop dreaming about Will.
As the truck rumbled down country lanes, past darkened farmhouses and quiet paddocks, a number of questions bumped around in her head and by the time Will pulled up in front of her house, Lucy couldn’t hold back. ‘Will, what was the point you wanted to make?’
In the glow of the dashboard’s lights, she could see his frown. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, you’ve lost me.’
‘When we were talking at the wedding, you were carrying on about how old we are now and I got in a huff, but were you actually trying to make a point?’
He turned to face her, one hand draped loosely over the steering wheel. ‘Nothing in particular.’ He smiled shyly. ‘I simply wanted to talk to you—the way we used to.’
A ghost of a smile trickled across his face. Then he looked out through the windscreen and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘We have a lot to catch up on, but it’s late. Why don’t I give you a call some time?’
How could such a simple question send her insides into turmoil? It was so silly to be incredibly excited simply because Will Carruthers planned to talk to her again.
With difficulty, Lucy overcame her desperate curiosity to know what he wanted to talk about. She managed to speak calmly.
‘I’ll wait to hear from you, then,’ she said as she pushed the door open.
‘Don’t move,’ Will ordered, shoving his door open too. ‘I’ll help you out. I don’t want you falling again. You’re an accident waiting to happen tonight.’
A hasty glance at the huge step down to the road showed Lucy the wisdom of accepting his offer, but her heart skipped several beats as he rounded the truck and helped her down.
‘Thank you,’ she said demurely. ‘My elderly bones couldn’t have taken another stumble this evening.’
His soft laugh held the hint of a growl. ‘Get to bed, Grandma.’
To her astonishment, Will’s lips feathered the merest brush of a kiss against her temple. Her knees almost gave way.
‘Perhaps I should escort you to the door,’ he said.
‘I think I’m still capable of tottering up my own front path.’
‘I’ll wait here till you’re safely inside.’
After years of being fiercely independent, Lucy had to admit it was rather pleasant to have a lordly male watching out for her. With the bouquets bundled in one arm, she lifted her skirt elegantly and took careful dainty steps as she made her way up the uneven brick path.
She’d left her car and her other set of keys at Mattie’s parents’ house, but there was a spare key under the flowerpot on the porch. Tonight, however, there was more than a flowerpot on the porch. A hessian bag had been left on the doorstep.
Lucy saw it and sighed. Caring for wildlife wasn’t part of her veterinary responsibilities, but people knew she had a soft heart and they were always bringing her injured bush creatures. Animals hit by cars were the most common and this was sure to be another one—a wounded sugar glider, an orphaned kangaroo, or perhaps an injured possum.
She was dead tired tonight, but now, before she could crawl into bed, she would have to attend to this.
She found the key, opened the front door and reached inside to turn on the porch light. Behind her, Will was waiting at the front gate and she sent him a friendly wave. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ she called.<
br />
He returned her wave and she watched as he headed back to the truck, then, with the flowers in one arm, she picked up the sack. The animal inside wriggled, which was a good sign. Maybe it wasn’t too badly hurt and she wouldn’t lose too much sleep tonight.
She heard her dogs scratching at the back door, but they would have to wait a bit longer for her attention. She took the sack through to the surgery, put the roses and lilies in one of the huge metal sinks and set the bag down gently on the metal examining table.
First things first, she kicked off her shoes. That was so-o-o-o much better. Yawning widely, she unknotted the string around the neck of the bag.
A snake’s head shot out.
Lucy screamed.
Panic flooded her!
A snake was the last thing she’d expected. The worst thing. She loved animals. She loved all animals. But she still couldn’t help being terrified of snakes.
Her heart leapt in a rush of instinctive primeval terror. She couldn’t deal with this.
Not now. Not alone in the middle of the night.
Paralysed by fear, she thought of Will driving off in his truck and seriously considered chasing after him, yelling for help. She whimpered his name and was ready to scream again when footsteps thundered up the path and Will appeared at the surgery doorway.
‘Lucy, what’s the matter?’
‘A s-snake! With a shaking hand she pointed to the sack.
‘Let me deal with it.’ He spoke calmly and, just like that, he crossed the floor to the wriggling hessian bag.
Lucy watched, one hand clamped over her mouth to hold back another scream, as Will carefully pulled the top of the sack apart, then, with commendable cool, gripped the snake firmly, just behind its head.
‘It’s a carpet python,’ he told her smoothly as he lifted it out and took hold of the tail, while the snake thrashed wildly. ‘And it’s wounded.’
A carpet python.
Right. Lucy drew a deep breath. Her racing heartbeats subsided. Carpet pythons weren’t poisonous. Actually, now that she was calming down, she could see the distinctive brown and cream markings on the snake’s back.
‘I’m afraid I panicked,’ she said. ‘Someone left the bag on my porch and I was expecting a small motherless furry creature.’
‘Instead you have an angry snake with a nasty gash on its back.’ The expression in Will’s grey eyes was both tender and amused.
No longer trembling, Lucy came closer and saw the wound halfway down the snake’s length. ‘I’m afraid snakes are the one species of the animal kingdom I find hard to love. But this fellow’s actually quite beautiful, isn’t he?’
‘As snakes go—he’s extremely handsome,’ Will said dryly. ‘What do you want to do with him? Would you try to treat a wound like this?’
‘I can at least clean it up. Maybe give it a few stitches.’
‘Can you leave it till tomorrow? Shall I put it in a cage for you?’
She bit back a sigh and shook her head. ‘The biggest threat for him is infection, so I really should see to the wound straight away.’ Shooting Will an apologetic glance, she said, ‘It won’t take long, but I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly manage without an assistant.’
He chuckled. ‘No problem. I’m all yours.’
The sparkle in his eyes sent heat flaming in her cheeks. Tightly, she said, ‘Thank you. If you’ll keep holding him right there, I’ll get organised. First, I’m going to have to feed oxygen and anaesthetic down his trachea.’
‘You’re going to knock him out just to clean up a wound?’
‘It’s the only way to keep a snake still. They’re actually very sensitive to pain.’
As Lucy set up the gas cylinders, her mind raced ahead, planning each step of the procedure. She would place a wooden board between the python and the metal table to keep him that little bit warmer. And she needed something to hold the wounded section steady while she worked on it. Masking tape would do the least damage to the python’s sensitive skin.
Quickly she assembled everything she needed—scissors, scalpels, tweezers, swabs, needles—and then she donned sterile gloves. ‘OK, let’s get this gas into him.’
Will held the snake’s head steady while she fed the tube down its mouth, and she was amazed that she wasn’t scared any more.
‘How many pythons’ lives have you saved?’ Will asked as they waited for the anaesthetic to take effect.
‘This is the first.’
He smiled. ‘I can remember your very first patient.’
She frowned at him, puzzled. ‘You were in Argentina when I started to work as a vet.’
‘Before that. Don’t you remember the chicken you brought to school in a woolly sock?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She grinned. ‘The poor little thing hatched on a very cold winter’s morning and I was worried that it wouldn’t make it through the day.’
‘You kept it hidden under the desk.’
‘Until Mr Sanderson discovered it during biology and turned it into a lecture on imprinting.’
Their eyes met and they smiled and for a heady moment, Lucy was sixteen again and Will Carruthers was…
No, for heaven’s sake.
Shocked by how easily she was distracted by him, she centred her thoughts on cleaning the outside of the python’s wound with alcohol wipes and foaming solution. Then, when her patient was completely under, she began to debride the damaged tissue.
All the time she worked, Will was silent, watching her with a curious smile that she tried very hard to ignore.
‘I guess this isn’t quite how you expected to spend your evening,’ she said as she finally began to suture the delicate skin together.
‘Wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’ He chuckled softly. ‘You have to admit, it’s a unique experience. How many guys have watched a barefoot bridesmaid stitch up a python at midnight?’
Lucy couldn’t help smiling. ‘You make it sound like some kind of medieval witches’ ritual.’
‘The rites of spring?’
‘Maybe, but then again, how many vets have been assisted by a hun—a guy in best man’s clobber?’
Lucy thanked heavens she’d retracted the word hunk. For heaven’s sake. It was the dinner suit factor. Stick the plainest man in a tuxedo and his looks were improved two hundred per cent. Will in a tuxedo was downright dangerous.
But she was grateful for his help. Working side by side with him again, she’d felt good in a weirdly unsettled-yet-comfortable way. They’d always worked well together.
‘You’re a tough cookie,’ Will told her. ‘You were white as a ghost and shaking when I came in and yet you morphed into a steady-handed snake surgeon.’
‘It’s my job,’ she said, trying not to look too pleased.
She dropped the suture needles into the tray and snapped off her sterile gloves, removed the paper apron and rolled up the disposable sheet she’d used to drape over the wound.
‘So where will we put this fellow while he sleeps off his ordeal?’ Will asked.
‘He’ll have to go in one of the cages out the back.’ Carefully, she peeled away the masking tape that had kept the snake straight.
‘Shall I do the honours?’
‘Thanks, Will. There’s a cage in the far corner, away from the other patients. If you give me a minute, I’ll line it with thick newspaper to keep him warm and dry.’
By the time the python was safely in its cage it was long past midnight but, to Lucy’s surprise, she didn’t feel tired any more. She tried to tell herself that she’d found working on a completely new species exhilarating, but she knew very well it had everything to do with Will’s presence.
She’d felt relaxed and focused and it had been like stepping back in time to their student days. But, dear heaven, it was such a long time ago and they couldn’t really go back, could they?
‘Let’s go through to the kitchen,’ she said once they’d cleaned up.
She snapped the kitchen light on and the room leapt t
o life. She was rather proud of the renovations she’d made to this room, painting the walls a soft buttercup and adding hand painted tiles to the splashback over the sink. And she’d spent ages hunting for the right kind of cupboards and shelving in country-style second-hand shops.
‘I’d better let the boys in.’
As soon as Lucy opened the back door, Seamus and Harry bounded inside, greeting her with doggy kisses and fiercely wagging tails, as if she’d been away for six months.
At last the dogs calmed down and she turned to Will. ‘I think you’ve earned a drink.’
‘I believe I have,’ he agreed and he immediately began to remove his jacket and tie.
Lucy drew a sharp breath, already doubting the soundness of this idea. But she couldn’t send Will packing after he’d been so helpful. Surely two old friends could have a drink together?
‘What are you in the mood for?’ Oh, cringe. What a question. ‘Alcohol or coffee?’ she added quickly.
She opened the fridge. ‘If you’d like alcohol, I’m afraid there’s only beer or white wine.’
Will chose beer and Lucy poured a glass of wine for herself. She found a wedge of Parmesan cheese and freshly shelled walnuts and set them on a platter with crackers and slices of apple.
‘Come on through to the lounge room,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty shabby, though. I started renovating the kitchen and then ran out of enthusiasm.’
Tonight, however, Lucy was surprised. She hadn’t drawn the curtains and the lounge room, now flooded by moonlight, had taken on a strangely ethereal beauty. The shabbiness had all but disappeared and the garish colours of the cotton throws she’d used to cover the tattered upholstery had taken on a subtle glow.
‘I might leave the lights off,’ she said. ‘This room is definitely improved by moonlight.’
‘Everything’s improved by moonlight.’
She studiously ignored this comment in the same way that she avoided the sofa and flopped into a deep, comfy single chair instead.
With a be-my-guest gesture she directed Will to the other chair. Then, as the dogs settled on the floor, heads on paws, niggles of disquiet returned to haunt her. It was such a long time since she and Will had been alone like this.
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