The Australian's Proposal. Alison Roberts

on, let’s go,’ she urged.

      ‘You’re going like that?’

      She glanced down at the amiable hippo on the T-shirt top of her pyjamas.

      ‘I’m decent, Jack’s very ill, why not?’

      ‘No reason,’ Hamish said, but he shook his head in a bemused manner and followed her through the quiet house.

      Were all the occupants over at the hospital, or were some people actually getting some sleep?

      As they walked through the garden, an imminent dawn ghosting the foliage into strange shapes and patterns, Hamish explained. The operation to remove the bullet, with the guidance of the surgeon in Brisbane, had apparently gone well, and no replacement devices had been required. Jack had made the transition to the recovery room safely. Even there, Emily had been pleased with his responses as he’d come out of the anaesthetic, then they’d transferred him to the ICU for monitoring, and everything had gone haywire, his blood pressure dropping, pulse rate rising and his mental state confused and lethargic.

      He wanted to die, he kept repeating weakly, then closing his eyes in response to any comment or question.

      Desperate with concern—had he made the wrong decision doing the op here?—Charles had paged Hamish, asking him to wake Kate in the hope she might be able to rouse the young man.

      ‘The ICU is through here,’ Hamish said, guiding Kate with a hand on her elbow to an area she hadn’t explored with Brian.

      Talk about state of the art. Many city hospitals Kate had seen would have been pleased to have such a set-up. Five rooms, all monitored from a central desk, but only one of them occupied. Behind the desk, a nurse and Emily frowned at the monitor.

      Jack’s was the room crowded with people in spite of ICU protocols that discouraged such practices.

      ‘Kate!’ Charles greeted her with relief. ‘I’m sorry, but we thought if you could speak to him—rouse him. Alix is running new blood tests but as yet we can’t find any physical reason for his sudden collapse.’

      ‘He’s been through a lot,’ Kate reminded him, slipping past the man in the wheelchair to reach the side of Jack’s bed and take one limp hand in both of hers.

      ‘Hey, Jack, it’s me, Kate. Sorry I was a bit late getting here, but you were ages in Theatre and a girl has to sleep some time.’

      She was keeping it light, as she had earlier, but although Jack acknowledged her arrival by opening his eyes, that was all the response she got.

      Cal, who’d been standing at the foot of the bed with his arm around Gina, nodded tiredly at Kate, then led Gina away. Jill, who looked as if she hadn’t slept for days, also departed, her shoulders slumped as if Jack’s failure to respond was somehow her fault.

      Kate continued to talk, while Charles sat beside her, watching the screen for any kind of response from his nephew.

      Nothing—well, not nothing, but the changes were all negative. They were looking on while a healthy young man died for no apparent reason.

      Hamish stood outside the room, watching through the window, seeing the urgency in Kate’s pose as she bent over the bed, trying to force a reaction of any kind from Jack.

      Apparently deciding there was nothing he could do, Charles left the room, wheeling to a stop beside Hamish so he, too, could watch through the window.

      ‘I tried to phone his mother, but got an answering-machine. Philip thinks she might be skiing in New Zealand. Even if we ask the police over there to track the family down, it could be days before she gets here.’

      The anguish in Charles’s voice told Hamish far more than the words. The man was blaming himself for insisting the lad stayed here in Crocodile Creek.

      ‘You did all you could,’ Hamish assured him. ‘His whole blood clotting time was within acceptable limits, we had the desmopressin on hand for Lucky, so you were able to infuse that into him before the op. They couldn’t have done any more in a major city hospital, and shifting him again might have provoked this problem earlier.’

      But Charles refused to be comforted.

      ‘I shouldn’t have assumed my way was the best way,’ he said bitterly. ‘Damn it all, Hamish. There’s far too much bad blood in this family already, without me having more of it on my hands.’

      ‘You’ve already done what you can to get Jim and Honey Cooper back on their feet and to end the feud between the Coopers and the Wetherbys,’ he reminded Charles.

      ‘Sure!’ Charles growled. ‘I patch things up just fine then let the father of their grandchild die. It’ll start all over again!’

      ‘Not if Kate has any say in it,’ Hamish said, nodding to where Kate was ordering the young man to live.

      Standing helplessly beside the bed, her gaze snapping from Jack to the monitor and back again, Kate thought about the story Hamish had told her. A family feud that had torn this modern-day Romeo from his Juliet.

      His Juliet! His girlfriend! The baby! She swung around to see Hamish talking to Charles outside the window.

      Leaving Jack’s side, she headed out the door.

      ‘Megan? Where’s Megan? Is she still in the hospital? Or in town? Can we get her here? She’s the one person to whom he might respond.’

      Hamish, who’d heard Jack’s insistence that Megan was the only girl for him, caught on fastest.

      ‘She’s living at Christina’s house. I’ll go there now.’

      But Charles held him back.

      ‘You think he cares about her? According to Jim, he hasn’t seen her for six months.’

      ‘He cares,’ Hamish said, and Charles nodded.

      ‘Then go and get her. I’ll handle Jim.’

      Satisfied she’d done what she could, Kate returned to Jack’s side, and continued urging a response from him, but through the window she saw Charles wheel away—to tell Jim Cooper his daughter’s boyfriend was now in the hospital?

      Would Megan come? Kate was frustrated that she didn’t know more about the dynamics of the relationship between Megan and Jack. There was a baby—but did Megan care about its father?

      The question was answered very soon afterwards when a plump young woman came racing into the ICU, Hamish hurrying rather ineffectually behind her.

      ‘Where is he? Where’s Jack?’ she demanded.

      Emily came out from behind the monitor to intercept her.

      ‘Hush, Megan,’ she said quietly. ‘Calm down, love. You’re not long out of here yourself.’

      But Megan was beyond stopping. With one swift glance around the sterile space, she found which room held the man she sought and, stepping around Emily, headed straight for it.

      But was it love or anger driving her? Kate had no idea, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She intercepted Megan as the excited young woman burst through the door.

      ‘He’s very sick. Don’t shock him,’ she warned, then put her arms around the newcomer as Megan’s face crumpled and she let out an anguished cry.

      ‘I wouldn’t hurt him,’ she whispered. ‘I love him!’

      The plaintive declaration speared pain deep into Kate’s heart, but she held her ground, talking quietly to Megan to calm her before she approached Jack’s bed.

      ‘Hamish said there was no reason for him to be so sick,’ Megan whimpered, allowing Kate to hold her while she stared at the pale, depleted figure on the bed.

      ‘No, it just seems as if he’s given up.’

      ‘He can’t do that. He’s got a baby,’ Megan