Australian Bachelors: Outback Heroes: Top-Notch Doc, Outback Bride / A Wedding in Warragurra / The Outback Doctor's Surprise Bride
She looked down at him sheepishly, her perfect small white teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip. ‘Oops,’ she said, giving her shorts a little tug.
‘Here,’ he said, moving closer. ‘Hold onto my shoulders and I’ll unhitch you.’
Kellie put her hands on his shoulders, her belly giving a little quiver of reaction as she felt his hard muscular warmth seeping through the palms of her hands. Her fingers dug in a little further as she felt one of his hands releasing the fabric against her bottom and a shiver ran up like a startled mouse the entire length of her spine. Wow! Those hands of his sure had some magic about them, she thought as she hastily tried to disguise her reaction.
‘There,’ he said, his voice sounding a little scratchy. ‘You’re undone.’
‘Th-thanks,’ she said, locking gazes with him, her hands still on his shoulders.
The sounds of the bush seemed to Kellie to intensify the fact that apart from the dog and the herd of cattle they were not only totally alone but still physically touching.
Her fingers splayed experimentally, relishing the feel of toned male flesh, her belly doing another little flip-kick movement when she saw the dark unshaven stubble on his jaw. She suddenly wanted to run her fingers over the prickle of his skin, to feel it against the softness of hers, on her face, her mouth, her breasts and the silk of her inner thighs.
She looked back into his deep blue gaze and saw the unmistakable flare of male desire burning there. Her chest began to feel as if a moth was fluttering inside the soft cage of her lungs.
His hands went to her waist, the long fingers resting against her for perhaps a second or two longer than necessary before he lifted her from the fence. Kellie felt every angle and plane of his tall lean body on the way down, her breasts brushing against his pectoral muscles, her belly against the hard buckle of his belt, her trembling thighs against the rock-hard length and strength of his.
He set her on the ground and stepped back from her, his expression instantly shutting her out. ‘Come on, then, hop on,’ he said tonelessly, kicking the bike stand with his foot before straddling the bike.
Kellie had never realised how arrantly masculine such a simple action could be. ‘Um … where’s Spike going to sit?’
she asked, trying to sound calm and cool and totally unaffected when inside she felt every secret place pulsing with a need she had never felt in such strong, insistent waves before.
‘He’ll run alongside,’ Matt said, and gave the dog a signal with one of his hands. ‘It’s not far and he’ll enjoy the exercise.’
Kellie put one leg over the bike and moved as close to him as she dared, her inner thighs having to stretch to accommodate the muscular width of his. ‘R-rightio,’ she said a little uncertainly. ‘I’m all set.’
He started the bike with a downward thrust of one booted foot. ‘Put your arms around my waist,’ he instructed. ‘The ground’s pretty rough in spots.’
‘Er … right …’ Kellie said, and nestled closer, her arms going around his trim taut middle, while her mind went to places she wasn’t sure it should be going.
For instance, she knew if she inched her fingers just a teeny bit closer she could touch his male outline, the unmistakably hard male outline of him she had felt on her little sensual slide down his body. Or if she nudged herself even closer against his back, her feminine mound would be able to feel the tautness of his buttocks …
‘Everything all right back there?’ Matt asked after a journey of about fifty metres.
‘Er … yes … fine … just fine …’ she answered, wriggling back a bit.
Within a few minutes Kellie could see the homestead in the distance, the colonial design with its wrap-around veranda and large rainwater tanks an iconic image of rural life on the land.
The effects of the longstanding drought, however, were clearly visible. The gardens surrounding both residences looked worn down by thirst and the various trees offering what they could in terms of shade had a thick coat of red dust on their leaves.
Matt brought the bike to a standstill near one of the large sheds a short distance from the homestead and Kellie dismounted even before he had turned off the engine.
‘How far behind will Spike be?’ she asked.
‘He’ll probably stop for a quick dip in the home paddock dam,’ he said, taking off his hat and brushing back his hair with his hand. ‘And speaking of water, let’s get you inside and rehydrated.’
Kellie followed him up the four well-worn steps to the front door, the cooler shade of the veranda an instant relief from the now fierce heat of the sun. Inside the house was even cooler, the long hallway with its polished timber floors and the smell of furniture polish and cedar making her feel as if she was stepping back in time to a previous era.
She looked around with interest as he led her to the kitchen. ‘Wow, this is such a lovely house, Matt,’ she said. ‘It must be, what, a hundred and fifty years old?’
‘Something like that,’ he said, handing her a tall glass of water he had poured from a covered jug in the fridge.
Kellie felt the brush of his fingers as she took the glass and, averting her gaze, took a few sips even though she felt like throwing her head back and downing the contents in one gulping swallow.
‘Help yourself to more water and feel free to make yourself tea or coffee,’ he said as he headed to the door. ‘Everything’s there on the bench near the kettle. I’m just going to have a quick shower before we head into town.’
‘Thanks,’ she said and once he had left the room she quickly refilled her glass and drank deeply.
Kellie heard the sound of water being lapped thirstily outside. She looked out of the window and was pleased to see Spike had made his way back and after his drink was making himself comfortable in the shade of the rainwater tank.
She wandered from the kitchen to the comfortable-looking sitting room across the hall, the sound of an ancient grandfather clock ticking yet again reminding her of how many generations of farmers had lived here.
Her gaze went to the mantel above the fireplace where there was a photograph of a young woman, the same woman she had caught a glimpse of in Matt’s wallet the day before. She picked up the frame and looked into the features of his late fiancée, her long ash-blonde hair, almond-shaped green eyes and wide happy smile marking her as a stunningly beautiful woman.
The floorboards creaked as Matt stepped into the room and Kellie turned around, suddenly feeling like a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. ‘I was just … um … having a look around,’ she said, still holding the photograph.
He walked across the room, took the frame from her hands and looked down at it for an infinitesimal moment, before turning and carefully setting it back on the mantel in exactly the same position. Kellie got the impression he thought she had deliberately desecrated his shrine for his fiancée. She could see the tension in his shoulders as he stood with his back to her, still looking at the photograph.
‘What was her name?’ she found herself asking.
‘Madeleine,’ he answered after a slight pause.
‘She was very beautiful,’ Kellie said, not sure what else to say to fill the awkward silence.
‘Yes …’ He turned around to look at her, his expression showing none of the emotion she could hear in his voice. ‘Yes, she was …’
The grandfather clock timed the next silence.
Kellie breathed in the clean scent of Matt, the tantalising combination of citrus-based shampoo and soap and aftershave activating all her senses. His dark brown hair was still wet, although it looked as if he had used his fingers rather than a comb to push it into place. His jaw was cleanly shaven now but it looked as if the razor had nicked him just below his chin on his neck. She could see the pinkish graze and she felt an almost uncontrollable urge to close the small distance between their bodies and salve the tiny wound with the tip of her tongue.
She ran her tongue over her parched lips instead, more than a little shocked at how she was reacting to him. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so physically aware of a man. Her whole body was on high alert, her skin tingling to feel more of his touch. She could still feel the warm imprint of his hands where they had rested on her waist earlier, the nerve endings still fizzing like thousands of champagne bubbles under her skin.
‘Matt, I was—Oh, sorry,’ a gruff male voice said from the door. ‘I didn’t know you had company.’
‘It’s all right, Bob,’ Matt said, turning to face the man. ‘This is Kellie Thorne, the new GP filling in for Tim Montgomery. Kellie, this is Bob Gardner, my manager.’
Kellie smiled and took the older man’s heavily calloused hand in hers. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Bob,’ she said with a bright and friendly smile.
‘Nice to meet you, Dr Thorne,’ Bob said. ‘My wife Eunice would like to meet you some time. She’s away at the moment, visiting our daughter in Cairns, but when she gets back I’m sure she’ll invite you over for a meal or something.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Kellie said still smiling.
‘What did you want to talk to me about, Bob?’ Matt asked.
‘That heifer we were worried about has delivered her twin calves without any dramas,’ Bob said. ‘But I thought we should still get a couple of antibiotic injections from Jim Webber just in case she comes down with milk fever.’
‘Good idea,’ Matt said. ‘I’ll drop in on my way home from the clinic, unless you’re going to town.’
‘I’ve got to see about that pump part so I can get them then,’ Bob said. He turned again to Kellie and smiled. ‘I hope you settle in quickly, Dr Thorne, and enjoy your time with us. Lord knows, Matt here could do with the back-up. He works too hard but that’s life in the bush, I guess.’
‘I’m looking forward to helping out in any way I can,’ she said. ‘In fact, the sooner the better.’
‘Well … be seeing you,’ Bob said, and, brushing off his hat, stepped out of the room.
Matt pushed back his partially dry hair with one hand. ‘Wouldn’t you like a couple more days to look around a bit first?’ he asked. ‘To settle in and find your way around?’
She shook her head, making her glossy chestnut ponytail swing from side to side. ‘No, I’ve seen enough. I more or less know what I’m in for. I’m itching to get started.’
Matt felt a tiny wry smile lift one corner of his mouth. ‘You really like diving into things boots and all, don’t you?’
She gave him one of her high-wattage smiles in return. ‘No point in living life unless you live it to the full, right?’
Matt had to force himself not to glance back at Madeleine perched on the mantel in her silver frame, but he felt her rainforest-green eyes watching him all the same. He had been promising himself he would put her away … well, not exactly in that sense. But he had come to realise recently there would always be a part of him that would think of Madeleine with deep affection. What? Not
love? That tiny voice of conscience spoke inside his head, louder than it had in years.
Matt had thought he had loved Madeleine. They had been together for so long it was hard to say when the feelings he had assumed were love had started. As a young couple together for such a long time they had sort of gradually drifted into a deeper and deeper relationship. One thing had followed another and before he’d known it they’d been having an engagement party, and then a little while after that they had started planning a wedding …
He gave an inward grimace. Perhaps it was well and truly time to send Madeleine’s photograph back to her parents. No doubt they would find a space for it among the unopened wedding presents and uncut wedding cake.
He gave himself a mental shake and reached for his keys. ‘Let’s get moving,’ he said, and led the way out to his car.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY had barely travelled a kilometre or two on the way into town when Matt got a call on his mobile. Because he used his hands-free device to answer while he was driving, Kellie heard every word of the exchange.
‘Matt, there’s been an incident at Coolaroo Downs,’ a female voice said. ‘Apparently one of the jackaroos had some sort of altercation with a bull. I’m not sure how serious it is. You know what Joan Dennis is like these days—she panics if someone falls off a fence. It might be just a graze for all we know. The volunteer ambos are on their way but I thought you should see what gives before we call in the flying doctor.’
‘Thanks, Trish,’ Matt said. ‘I’ll head back that way now. I have the new GP with me but rather than drop her in to the clinic I think she’d better come with me just in case this is serious. Can you let the clinic patients know I might be half an hour or so late?’
‘Sure,’ Trish said. ‘So …’ An element of feminine intrigue entered her voice. ‘What’s she like?’
Matt tried to ignore the way Kellie’s toffee-brown gaze turned towards him. He couldn’t see it but he sure as hell could feel it. ‘She’s … er … with me right now,’ he said.
‘Yes, I know, that but what is she like?’ Trish probed. ‘Is she good-looking?’
‘All right, I guess,’ he said, wincing when he felt the laser burn of Kellie’s look.
‘All right as in what?’ Trish kept on at him. ‘As in girl-next-door or model material?’
Matt mentally rolled his eyes. ‘Somewhere in between,’ he answered, chancing a glance Kellie’s way and then wishing he hadn’t. Didn’t he know enough about women to know they all wanted to be considered the most beautiful woman that ever walked the planet? Not that Kellie wasn’t beautiful or anything. She was absolutely gorgeous now that he came to think about it. She had a natural elegance about her—in fact, he reckoned she’d look as fabulous in a slinky evening gown with full make-up and exotic perfume and glittering jewellery as she did in a ripped pair of running shorts with her hair limp with perspiration and her cheeks pink from exertion.
Ever since Matt had felt the slim slide of Kellie’s body down his that morning out by the fence, he had been having some very disturbing and rather erotic thoughts about her. But he didn’t like being manipulated and it seemed to him the whole town was conspiring to hook them up as a couple. When it came time for him to think about another relationship he would do it his way, the old-fashioned way, not because everyone felt sorry for him and had brought in their version of a mail-order bride.
Trish’s voice cut through his private thoughts. ‘So do you think you might ask her on a date or something?’ she asked.
‘Trish, I’m on hands-free here and Dr Thorne is hearing every word,’ he said, wishing he’d thought to say it earlier, like about three sentences back.
‘Oh … Well, then …’ Trish quickly recovered and added, ‘Hi, there, Dr Thorne. I’m Trish, the receptionist. We’ve been looking forward to having you join us.’
‘I’ve been looking forward to being here, too,’ Kellie said. ‘In fact, so much so I’m prepared to get my hands dirty straight away. Dr McNaught has asked me to start a few days early.’
‘Well, thank the Lord for that,’ Trish said. ‘We’ve been run off our feet while Matt was away on the weekend, and my husband David is supposed to be taking it easier these days. You’re just what this place needs—a bit of new blood and young and single and female to boot.’
‘Got to go, Trish,’ Matt said curtly. ‘Keep the phone line as free as you can until we see what gives.’
‘Will do,’ Trish promised, and promptly hung up.
Matt drove a few more kilometres down the seemingly endless road before he took a right turn into a property marked as Coolaroo Downs, the car rumbling over each of the cattle grids making Kellie rock from side to side in her seat.
He frowned as the cattle yards eventually came into view. ‘This looks a little more serious than I thought,’ he said. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he added, ‘I hope to God the ambulance isn’t too far behind us.’
Kellie felt a tight knot of panic clutch at her insides as Matt parked the car a short distance from the small cluster of people hovering around the body of a young man lying on his back, a dark stain of blood spreading from his abdomen to the dusty ground beneath him.
Matt went round to the rear hatch to retrieve his emergency bag and drug pack. ‘Here, take this,’ he said, handing Kellie the drug pack, as they were met by Jack Dennis, the property owner.
‘It’s Brayden Harrison, our junior jackaroo,’ Jack said, his face pale beneath his leathery tan. ‘Didn’t see our stud bull coming straight for him. When he turned, he got gored and thrown into the air. It’s bad, Doc. I don’t think he’s going make it.’
From what Kellie could see, she thought Jack could be right, and sending a quick glance at Matt she could see he thought the same. Brayden was on his back, as white as a sheet and unconscious, hardly breathing. There was a large pool of dark blood still collecting by his side, coming from a wide slash in his abdomen, with a loop of bowel visible through the torn flannelette shirt.
Matt set his emergency pack down beside Brayden, and opened it out to reveal the colour-coded sections for trauma management. ‘Jack, has the air ambulance been called?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Joan called them soon after she called you, but they told her they were on another call to Roma.’
‘Have someone go up to the house and tell Joan to ask them to divert here now. There’s every chance this is going to be a fatality unless we can pull off a miracle here,’ Matt said. Turning to Kellie, he went on, ‘He’s in shock and unconscious. Put on gloves and goggles and come round to the side and stabilise his neck while I intubate him.’
Kellie held the neck steady, while Matt, now also with gloves and goggles on, gathered the laryngoscope and size 7 endotracheal tube. There was no suction, and the sun was bright, flooding out the light of the laryngoscope.
‘Jack, hold this space-blanket over his head to make it darker so I can see down his throat,’ Matt instructed with a calm confidence Kellie couldn’t help admiring.
Under the cover of the blanket, Matt inserted the endotracheal tube, inflated the cuff and attached the respirator bag. There was no oxygen, only air to ventilate with.
‘OK, I’ll ventilate while you fit a hard cervical collar, Kellie. They’re in the airway section,’ Matt instructed.
Kellie retrieved and fitted the collar, then under Matt’s instruction took over ventilation with the bag. Matt listened to the chest with his stethoscope, and then percussed the chest.
‘There’s very little air entry on the right and it’s dull to percussion. I’d say he’s got a haemothorax. He’s also losing a lot of blood from the abdominal wound.’
Taking a pair of scissors, Matt cut away the front of the patient’s shirt to reveal a ragged gash in the right upper quadrant of the abdomen, with a loop of bowel protruding and dark blood oozing out. Taking a pack of gauze dressings and a few ampoules of saline, Matt covered the bowel and compressed it back into the abdomen, then covered the whole wound with several large dressing packs and taped them down. He then inserted a 14-gauge cannula into a vein in the arm, and attached it to a litre bag of normal saline.
‘Jack, here, squeeze this bag firmly to push the fluid in,’ Matt directed, handing over the IV set to the cattle farmer.
One of the station hands came back down from the house to inform them, ‘The flying doctor’s diverting here. They should be overhead in about ten minutes.’
‘Good,’ Matt said, and inserted a second IV line into the other arm, and got the station hand to hold up the IV fluid bag.
Matt knew he had two more bags of saline in the kit which would hopefully be enough till help arrived. The flow of blood had now stopped, at least externally.
‘OK, all we can do now is hold the fort and support his airway and circulation till we get more gear,’ Matt said. ‘I’ll take over ventilation, Kellie. Can you do his obs?’
‘Sure,’ Kellie answered, becoming even more impressed at Matt’s level-headedness under intense pressure and circumstances that were far from ideal. The dust and heat was bad enough but with the stickiness of blood the bush flies were starting to swarm around. ‘Pulse is 120, BP 80 systolic,’ she said. ‘The first bag’s through. I’ll put up the next one.’
Seemingly from nowhere, the roar of a plane at low altitude passed directly overhead, en route to the airstrip on the other side of the homestead.
‘Thank God.’ Matt breathed a sigh of relief. ‘We might just pull this off yet.’
The final bag of saline was almost through when one of the station’s four-wheel-drive vehicles arrived with the air ambulance crew in the back, together with a stretcher and several emergency kits. One of the ambulance crew jumped out, carrying two packs of equipment.
‘Hi, I’m Marty Davis. We haven’t got a doctor—he’s in Roma with a placenta praevia. They’ve got things under control there but we’re on our own here. What have you got?’
‘Brayden Harrison, one of the jackaroos, has been gored by a bull and is in very bad shape,’ Matt informed him. ‘He’s in haemorhagic shock, he’s got a haemothorax and an open abdominal wound. Have you got any plasma expander? We’ve just exhausted our normal saline and we’re still way behind.’
Kellie connected both of the bottles Marty produced to the IV lines while Matt instructed Marty and his partner, Helen, to position the stretcher beside the patient. While Kellie took over ventilation, Matt supervised the transfer onto the trolley and into the back of the four-wheel drive.
‘He’s still bleeding internally. I want to get him to the plane and put in a right intercostal catheter to re-expand his right lung. Have you got underwater drainage?’ Matt asked.
‘Yes, we’ve got a full set of stuff for chest wounds on the aircraft,’ Helen said.
‘Let’s go, then,’ Matt said. Exchanging a quick glance with Kellie, he asked, ‘Are you OK to fly with me to Brisbane? I’ll need you to ventilate him while I manage his IV fluids and abdominal wound.’
‘Of course,’ she said, although she could feel her stomach already beginning to tighten in apprehension.
Once they reached the aircraft, the two ambulance personnel loaded the patient, while Kellie and Matt set up the intercostal tray.
Kellie helped Matt wash his hands with some sterile water and surgical scrub solution.
‘Thanks,’ he said, locking gazes with her momentarily before he donned sterile gloves.
She watched as Matt prepped the right side of the chest before performing the necessary procedure that would stem the flow of blood. Some tense minutes later when he unclamped the tube, about 300 ml of blood drained into the bottle, with a small ongoing leak of blood after that.
‘Hopefully his chest bleed will stop,’ Matt said as he fixed the tube to the skin with a heavy suture and sticky plaster.
‘You did an amazing job back there,’ Kellie said, meeting his eyes across the now relatively stable patient. ‘You stayed so calm and in control.’
Matt gave her a quick movement of his lips that could have almost passed for a smile. ‘You were a damned good assistant,’ he said. ‘It makes a huge difference when everyone knows what to do and when to do it.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, feeling a blush spreading over her cheeks. ‘But I was glad you were the one in charge.’
‘I’m sure you would have coped just as well,’ he said, checking the patient’s condition again. ‘Come on, Brayden, hold it together, mate. Not long now.’
Kellie heard the slight note of desperation in Matt’s voice. ‘Do you know him personally?’ she asked softly.
His eyes connected with hers before looking away again to focus on the young man lying between them. ‘I met him a few months ago. He came to see me about a plantar wart on his foot.’ His frown deepened as he continued, ‘He’s nineteen years old. He was a little undecided about what to do after he finished school, so rather than waste his parents’ money at university doing a course he might never use he came out to the bush for a gap year.’ He let out a ragged sigh as his eyes came back to hers. ‘He’s just a kid …’