by Anne Fraser
“Was I that bad?”
He chuckled. “No. I just couldn’t go home.”
“Why ever not?” she asked. “It isn’t like we don’t pay our nurses to look after patients.”
“True, but I didn’t like the idea of you being by yourself. If you had problems, I would have been halfway across town.”
“But I didn’t have problems,” she pointed out.
“Didn’t matter. The possibility was there. My parents wanted to fly over as soon as I told them about the accident, including your grandmother, but I told them not to. You see, I wanted to be here for you. No one else.”
Touched by his statement, she didn’t know what to say, so she flexed her aching shoulders and changed the subject. “Are you going to share your diagnosis or do I have to guess?”
“Your liver and kidneys were bruised, but they’re healing nicely. We thought we might have to remove your spleen, but Ahmadi decided to wait and see if your blood counts stabilized. So far so good.” He grinned. “You also have the usual assortment of scrapes and other bruises, as well as a minor concussion, but it could have been a lot worse.”
“My patient? Glen Gibson?”
“Strangely enough, he’s in better shape than you. Probably because you’d managed to push him forward enough so the heaviest pieces fell on you instead. You’ll also be interested to know his pancreatitis is coming under control.”
“I’m glad. Was anyone else hurt?”
“A few had minor injuries, lacerations and the sort. Other than the driver, you and Gibson were the worst.”
“How is he?” she asked.
Ruark shook his head. “Massive coronary. According to his wife, he hadn’t felt well but insisted on driving himself to the hospital. It’s a shame he didn’t listen.”
“His family must feel terrible,” she said, “but it could have been worse. We could have had a full-blown disaster on our hands.”
“It’s bad enough,” he said. “The ER has been shut down until the engineers can check the structural integrity of our end of the building. Then, once they give the OK, they’ll start repairs and we’ll be back in business.”
“What about the patients?”
“We’ll handle what we can through the minor emergency center across the street and route the serious cases to St Bridgit’s. In the meantime, staff are temporarily reassigned to different units or they’re using their earned time.” He grinned. “I’m taking a few days off, too.”
“Whatever for?”
“I figure I’ll need every one of those days to convince my wife how much I love her.”
She froze, wondering if the combination of pain medication and wishful thinking had affected her hearing. “You what?”
He carefully perched on the edge of her bed as he held her hand. “I love you, Gina.”
“You… How…? What…? I thought you didn’t believe in love.”
“I didn’t, until you came along. Once I realized how I couldn’t imagine a day without you, I knew I was wrong.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I thought…I thought…” Unable to deal with her sudden relief, she began to cry quietly because her muscles were too sore for her to let loose real sobs.
He waited until her emotional storm lightened. “You thought what?”
“I imagined all sorts of possibilities,” she confessed, wiping her cheeks with the backs of both hands. “I couldn’t decide if you truly didn’t love me or were just afraid to say so. Then I thought you’d heard it so many times before from so many other women that you didn’t believe me.”
“I did believe you, Gina. I just had trouble accepting it. Fool that I was, I thought if I showed you how important you were by my actions, everything would be fine. You’d see how much you meant to me, even if I never said so.”
“I tried to tell myself that, but a girl needs to hear the words,” she finished simply.
He tipped her chin up. “I didn’t do this right the first time, so I’m trying again.” He paused. “Will you marry me, Gina? Not because of duty or responsibility, not because of our family history or political expedience, but because I love you?”
Tears threatened again, but they were happy tears. “Oh, yes, I will.”
He leaned over and kissed her ever so gently as if afraid she would break.
“Come, now,” she teased. “Is that the best you can do?”
“For now,” he promised. “I’m saving my best for when you’re out of this hospital bed.”
She giggled. “Promises, promises.”
He grinned down at her. “May I call my father and tell him to organize a wedding?”
“Please, do.”
“He’ll ask for a date,” he warned.
“Tomorrow.”
He laughed. “Even my mother can’t work that huge a miracle. Besides, you need time to recover. How about a month?”
“Perfect.” With her spirits restored, she suddenly wanted to share her mood with everyone. “Do you have your phone with you?”
He pulled it out of the case on his hip. “Yes, why?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.” Grateful for his international calling plan, she scrolled through his contact list to find the name she wanted.
“I can call for you,” he began.
“I know, but this is something I have to do myself.” After pressing a button, she waited… The number she’d dialed began ringing and a woman answered.
Her crisp accent reminded her so much of her parents’ that Gina could hardly speak past the lump in her throat, but somehow she managed.
“Grandmother?” she croaked. “It’s me. Gina…”
EPILOGUE
“MY BROTHER would have been so proud to see this day,” King Henrik stated as he threaded Gina’s arm through his in the vestibule of St Gregory’s Cathedral in the heart of Marestonia’s capital city.
“I think so, too.” She smiled at her uncle, who resembled her father so closely it was uncanny. “Thank you for giving me away.”
“It’s my honor and privilege.” The twinkle in his eyes belied his solemn expression. “I’ll be glad when it’s over, though,” he said. “Planning a royal wedding in less than a month, even a small one like yours, has turned both palaces upside down. Your aunt and grandmother discussed nothing but fabrics and dress designs for days. I can’t imagine what Ruark’s parents went through to organize their end.”
While tradition required the bride marry in her family seat, she and Ruark chose to spread the celebration between both countries in order to avoid slighting anyone. They’d opted to hold the actual ceremony and reception in Marestonia, with her uncle giving her away in lieu of her father. The formal wedding ball would follow in Avelogne.
“I know, and I’m sorry for all the problems I caused.”
He patted her hand. “Nonsense, my dear. This event was what everyone needed. It’s a shame you’ll be returning to America so soon. We haven’t had nearly enough time to talk.”
“We’ll come back to visit,” she promised.
Gina could hardly hear the music over the pounding of her heart. She knew the flower girls were slowly scattering the rose petals along the white-carpeted center aisle as they’d practiced during last night’s rehearsal. In a few minutes the wedding coordinators would cue her uncle and it would be her turn.
While she waited, she fingered the ivory-colored handkerchief that had been in her family for generations and had once been framed and hung in a place of honor in her parents’ bedroom. Ten names had been embroidered on it so far, and as part of their tradition Gina’s name had been added underneath her mother’s. Someday her daughter’s name would appear there as well.
Buoyed by the thought of Ruark waiting for her, her jitters faded as the orchestra began playing the Lohengren’s Bridal Chorus. “This is your last opportunity to run out the back door,” Henrik joked.
“We’re already married, so it’s not an option,” she reminded him with a smile.
The a
isle seemed to stretch for miles, but she focused on Ruark as he waited for her in the sanctuary, looking distinguished in his official state regalia with all the accoutrements of his royal family. He might already be her legal husband, but today he would become the husband of her heart.
Her uncle placed her hand in Ruark’s, then stepped back while Ruark took his place at her side.
He whispered over the chamber ensemble’s performance. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
“I thought you’d never get here.”
“I walked as fast as I could. We didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“And deny everyone all this excitement? They would never have forgiven us.”
For all the fuss and uproar, Gina knew both families had been thrilled by their decision and members of both royal houses had pitched in to help. She’d been more than grateful because she didn’t care about flowers, colors, music, or the food. She was only interested in repeating her vows because this time they would both mean them.
As the music began to fade, she teased, “Does His Royal Highness have any final comments before he marries his wife again?”
He squeezed her hand tightly. “How does ‘I love you’ sound?”
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
The Doctor Claims His Bride
Fiona Lowe
Unable to wait a moment longer, Mia launched herself to her feet and arrived at the low fence just as the propellers of the plane slowly wound down and stopped.
The door on the opposite side of the plane opened. Mia caught sight of a pair of long, sun-kissed, muscular legs, which jumped down and landed on large feet. Intrigued, she watched as the legs strode around the plane, eating up the distance with commanding ease. Then the owner came into full view, and an uncontrollable shock of electric delight raced through her, completely disarming her.
Mia’s mouth dried. The intensity of his look made her feel stripped bare, and to her horror she dropped her gaze.
‘I wasn’t expecting a welcoming party. I’m Flynn Harrington. Pilot and doctor.’ He grinned with the cheekiness of someone who had inside information. ‘You must be Mia.’
‘You’re the island doctor?’ She couldn’t hide the shock and disbelief from her voice.
He didn’t look like any doctor she’d ever met—and she’d met more than her fair share, personally and professionally.
And no doctor had ever made her tingle like that.
Always an avid reader, Fiona Lowe decided to combine her love of romance with her interest in all things medical, so writing Medical™ Romance was an obvious choice! She lives in a seaside town in southern Australia, where she juggles writing, reading, working and raising two gorgeous sons, with the support of her own real-life hero! You can visit Fiona’s website at www.fionalowe.com
Dear Reader
In June 2007 my family left our home on the south coast of Australia and we set off on a six-hour flight to the far north of the country. It was 6C in Melbourne and 33C in Darwin—hard to believe we were still in the same country, but it wasn’t just the weather that was different. As we toured around the World Heritage Area of Kakadu National Park and swam in the waterholes of Litchfield Park we absorbed the vivid reds, yellows and browns of the outback. We learned all sorts of things about the land, the plants and animals, and what they all mean to the Aboriginal people.
A very special part of our holiday was a two-day trip to an island in the Timor Sea. Here we went hunting for turtle eggs, watched dugong at play and crocodiles surfing in the ocean! As I sat around the campfire I started to get an idea for a story. We had met a lot of people on our holiday and many had come from the south. I found myself asking, “Why would someone from the south be drawn to the isolation of this island?”
And that is how Mia and Flynn’s story evolved. Set against the background of the Aborigines’ love for their land and their own unique health issues, Mia and Flynn are on the island running from their individual demons. Both are determined to live a solo life but they discover that no matter where you are or how far you go, you can’t outrun your past until you face it.
I hope you enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it and that one day you too can take a trip to the far north of central Australia. It’s an amazing place!
Love
Fiona x
To Gaye, with heartfelt thanks for the friendship, the walks along the river and the conversations that roam from laundry liquid to solving the world’s problems!
Special thanks to Nellie, for generously sharing her experiences as a Remote Area Nurse.
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU still on city time, Sis.’ Susie, one of the Kirri health workers, grinned widely, her teeth white against her chocolate-brown face.
Mia Latham sighed and twirled her hair up, welcoming the light breeze against her very hot and sweaty neck. Jamming her straw hat down hard, she scanned the outback-blue skies for the elusive light plane.
Nothing.
Not a faint dot in the distance, not even a bird. Just heat haze shimmering upwards against wisps of grey smoke from the dry-season fires. She forced her shoulders to relax while muttering, ‘He said eleven o’clock and now it’s almost one.’
‘He on island time.’ Susie leaned back contentedly against the shady eucalypt.
Mia turned and gazed at the sensible indigenous health worker. ‘But I have an immunisation clinic all organised, and we’re keeping people waiting.’
Susie gave her a bemused look. ‘You got no clinic till plane brings vaccines.’ She shrugged. ‘So sit. You can’t do nothing until the plane comes.’
Every cell in Mia’s body rebelled at the practical words. Her ‘to do’ list magnified in her head, the print bold and black, bearing down on her, urging her to do something, anything, to make a dent in it. She’d wanted to be as up to date as possible for when she met the visiting doctor. But at this rate she’d be way behind and she hated having no control over the situation.
She stifled a huge scream of frustration and plonked down awkwardly in the shade next to Susie, her cargo shorts instantly filling with fine, brown dirt. Just great. She might still be on Australian soil but nothing about life up in the far far north of the country, nothing about life on this tiny island resembled anything she’d ever known.
She’d wanted a change. She’d badly needed change but today, her fifth day on the job as a remote area nurse on Kirra Island, left her wondering if what she’d come to was harder than what she’d left.
Impossible.
She wanted remoteness, wanted to work on her own and be as far away as possible from her old life. She just wanted to forget.
She fanned her face and took a long slug of water from the bottle that was a permanent part of her in this heat. And this was the dry season—winter. She didn’t want to think about the dripping humidity just before the big wet.
‘Hear that?’ Susie inclined her head to the right.
Mia couldn’t hear anything. It was so hot that even nature had gone quiet. ‘No.’
‘Listen with all of you,’ Susie chided gently.
Mia let the heat roll over her, let the dust settle on her and strained to hear past the silence of the soporific midday malady. A faint buzzing vibrated in her ears. ‘The plane?’
Susie nodded. ‘That’s right. Him coming now.’
Mia moved forward, preparing to stand.
Susie’s workworn brown hand rested against her forearm, detaining her. ‘Still five minutes, no hurry.’
She forced herself to sit back but most of her wanted to rush out onto the runway and start unpacking boxes the moment the plane had come to a complete halt. She’d never been very good at sitting back and waiting. Even when she’d known in her heart there was nothing she could do to help her mother, she’d hated the waiting. Waiting and watching her die.
The Cessna lined up with the runway and slowly descended, coming in over the thick mangroves and the eucalypts, its small blac
k wheels bouncing on the asphalt, sticky with heat. The pilot immediately opened the window and gave a wave.
Unable to wait a moment longer, Mia launched herself to her feet, leaving Susie under the tree, and she arrived at the low cyclone fence just as the propellers of the plane slowly wound down and stopped. The door on the opposite side of the plane opened. Mia caught sight of a pair of long, tanned, muscular legs, which jumped down and landed on large feet. Feet clad in sturdy work boots with khaki socks that casually gathered down around solid ankles.
It wasn’t the usual uniform of a pilot—they wore long navy trousers. No, these legs looked like they belonged to a bounty hunter, buffalo or crocodile hunter—a man who spent a lot of time outdoors.
Intrigued, she watched as the legs strode around the plane, eating up the distance with commanding ease. Then the owner came into full view and an uncontrollable shock of electric delight raced through her, completely disarming her.
At well over six feet, her crocodile hunter had the natural grace of a man at one with his surroundings, and it radiated from the top of his jet-black hair to the tips of his olive-skinned fingers, which gripped a large cooler in one hand and held a backpack in the other. Three-day stubble hovered around his smiling mouth, fanning out along a firm jaw. Dark brows framed intelligent hazel eyes, whose mesmerising gaze quickly took in his surroundings, acknowledged Susie with a wave and then centred in on her.
Mia’s mouth dried. The intensity of his look made her feel stripped bare and to her horror she dropped her gaze. She took in his broad shoulders, which were covered by a shirt made from locally designed fabric. The emerald green and sea blue of the design accurately depicted the colours of the island’s land and sea, and together they brought out a hint of green in his hazel eyes.