The Australian's Proposal. Alison Roberts

embarrassed that he’d even noticed what she was wearing on her feet. Embarrassed by the frivolous flowers.

      She opened her case again and dug into the bottom of it to find her sensible walking boots. The rest of her outfit was eminently practical. Chocolate brown calf-length pants, and a paler brown T-shirt with just one purple flower decorating the shoulder. But a woman couldn’t be sensible right down to her toes—especially not when these delicious sandals had called to her from a shop window in Townsville the day before.

      Pulling off the sandals, she sat down on the bed to put on her boots, uncomfortably aware that Hamish hadn’t answered her.

      Uncomfortably aware of Hamish.

      ‘You don’t have to wait—just tell me where to go. Is it to the airport? I passed that on the way in.’

      ‘Regular clinic flights leave from the airport. And retrievals leave from there if the aircraft is being used. But today it’s the chopper.’

      He didn’t move from the doorway and Kate was pleased when she finally had her boots laced tightly and was ready to leave.

      She followed him through the house, out the back door and into a beautiful, scented garden. She glanced around, trying to identify the source of the perfume that lingered in the air, but Hamish was striding on, unaffected by the beauty. Too used to it, she guessed.

      ‘We’ve a helipad behind the hospital to save double transferring of patients,’ Hamish explained. ‘The service has two helicopter pilots and one of them, Mike Poulos, is also a paramedic, so we can do rescue flights with just him and a doctor, but when he’s off duty and Rex is flying, we take two medical staff.’

      ‘Is it a traffic accident?’ Kate was glad she’d been running every morning. Keeping up with Hamish’s long strides meant she had to trot along beside him.

      ‘Apparently not.’

      It was such a strange response she glanced towards the man who’d made it and saw him frowning at his thoughts.

      ‘It was a weird call and, now I think about it, maybe you shouldn’t come,’ he added.

      ‘I’m coming. Weird what way? Domestic situation?’

      ‘No, just weird. The caller said there was an injured man in Cabbage Palm Gorge and gave a GPS reading. You know about satellite global positioning systems?’

      ‘I’ve heard of it but, generally speaking, street names are more useful in Melbourne. Corner of Collins and Swanson kind of thing.’

      A glimmer of a smile chased the worry from his face, but not for long.

      ‘Because it’s a gorge, we might have to be lowered from the chopper.’

      ‘Been there and done that, though not, admittedly, into a gorge. But I have been lowered onto an oil-rig in Bass Strait in a gale, and that’s not a lot of fun, believe me.’

      They’d reached the helicopter, and the conversation stopped while Hamish introduced Rex, a middle-aged man with a bald head and luxuriant moustache, then they clambered into the overalls he handed them.

      ‘It’s three-quarters of an hour to the head of the gorge, but until we’re over it and get the right GPS reading, we won’t know where the bloke is. I can’t land anywhere in the gorge itself, and going down on the winch without a landing spot marked isn’t an option in that country—too thickly treed. So I’ll land where I can at the top of the gorge and you’ll have to abseil down.’

      Rex was talking to Hamish, but glancing warily at Kate from time to time.

      ‘That’s fine,’ she assured him before Hamish could answer. ‘I’m qualified for that and did a winch-refresher weekend only a month or so ago.’

      Taken because she’d thought she’d be going back to the emergency department at St Stephen’s and on roster for rescue missions …

      ‘We’ll see,’ Hamish objected. ‘I think I should go down first to find the patient. If he’s mobile, we won’t need two people.’

      ‘No go, Doc!’ Rex told him, hustling them into the cabin, handing Kate some headphones then checking she’d found her seat belt. ‘It’ll be dusk by the time we get there and, though it’s not as deep as Carnarvon or Cobbold Gorge, Cabbage Palm’s no picnic. Even if you find a suitable place to lift him from, I won’t be able to do it tonight. And RRS rules say two staff for overnighters.’

      RRS—Remote Rescue Service, Kate worked out. She hadn’t realised when she’d asked the agency for a job at Crocodile Creek that it had such wide-ranging services. She glanced at the man with whom she was about to spend the night. He was frowning again.

      ‘Do you suffer some kind of knight errantry towards women, that you’re looking so grim?’

      Because he wasn’t yet wearing his headphones, she had to yell the question above the noise of the engines. He turned towards her and shrugged, but didn’t reply. Which was fine by her. Helicopters weren’t the best places for casual conversation.

      They lifted off the ground and Kate wriggled around so she could see out the window. The hospital was cradled by the curve of a creek—no doubt called Crocodile—to the west, but to the east there must be a view of the blue waters of the cove. She could see the doctors house on the bluff overlooking the cove, then the stretch of sand and water and another bluff on the northern end, on which perched a sprawling, white-painted building set in lush tropical gardens.

      Beyond the creek, on the landward side, was a reasonably sized town, a cluster of larger buildings lining the main road. She’d driven past them earlier, noticing a pub, a grocery store and a hairdressing salon.

      The helicopter swung away, and now all Kate could see were the slopes of hills, many of them covered with banana plantations, while beyond them rainforest-clad mountains rose up to meet the sky.

      ‘It’s cattle country once we’re over the mountains.’

      She turned to Hamish and nodded acceptance of his statement, soon seeing for herself the open stretches of tree-studded plains. Rex seemed to be following what appeared to be a river, with more closely packed trees marking its meandering course. Then more hills appeared, rugged, rocky sentinels rising sheer from the plains, the setting sun catching their cliffs and turning them ruby red and scarlet.

      So this was what people talked about when they used phrases like ‘red centre’ to describe Australia. Kate pressed her face to the window to get a better view.

      ‘You’ll be seeing it firsthand before long,’ Hamish reminded her, and, right on cue, the helicopter began to descend. It took another twenty minutes but eventually Rex found somewhere he could safely set down. He turned off the engine and, with the rotor blades slowing, he climbed back into the cabin and began to unstrap the equipment they would need.

      ‘I’ll send you down first, Doc, then the gear, then you, Sister Winship.’

      ‘Kate, please,’ Kate protested, but Rex just shook his head.

      ‘Rex is an old-fashioned gentleman. He calls all the women by their proper titles,’ Hamish told her. ‘Tried to call me Dr McGregor for the first few months I was here, but I kept thinking he must be talking to my father and didn’t answer, so he finally gave it up.’

      Hamish was checking the equipment bags as he spoke. Once satisfied that each contained what it should, he’d lower it out of the helicopter. Rex set up a belay rope, using one of the helicopter’s skids as the anchor point, and Kate was reassured by the professionalism of both men.

      ‘You’ve got the radio but once I leave the top of the gorge you won’t be able to contact me until I’m back overhead in the morning. Use the hand-held GPS to find the patient. When it’s light, if you can see a space—maybe near the waterhole—that’s clear enough for me to do a stretcher lift, you can radio me the position.’ Rex was looking anxiously at Hamish, obviously unhappy that he had to abandon the two of them. ‘I’ll