Miracle: Twin Babies. Fiona Lowe

tinged with pleading, and suddenly every reason for not working was teetering on unsteady foundations. ‘What do you mean, you can’t work here without my help?’

      ‘How well do you know Port?’

      ‘I don’t really know it at all. I come here for the market but I use Barago as my centre for supplies as it’s bigger.’

      She laced her fingers, moving them back and forth against the backs of her hands. ‘Soon after I arrived in Port, Christopher Grayson, the town’s GP, fell ill.’

      Ignoring the wavering feeling, he stuck firmly to the facts. ‘When is Grayson due back?’

      Her gaze held his with a steady look. ‘He’s not. Unfortunately, he had a stroke and he’s currently in rehab.’

      He shoved his hands in his pockets, empathy weaving through him for a man who had a battle on his hands. But this wasn’t his problem and there was another solution. The foundations steadied. ‘So you advertise for another doctor to help you with the workload.’

      She sighed, tucking stray hair behind her ear. ‘It’s not just the workload. I came to Port as part of my GP rotation.’

      The image of her tugging at her bottom lip when she was deciding to send Garry to Barago beamed against his brain. His chest tightened. Suddenly her hesitancy and lack of confidence made sense. ‘Please don’t tell me this is your first six-month GP rotation.’

      ‘It is.’

      Damn it. He slammed his right fist into his left hand. ‘So without supervision you can’t practise?’ But the question was rhetorical, he knew the answer.

      ‘Not in Port, no.’

      He wasn’t ready to work in medicine just yet. He’d promised himself six more months, just savouring being well. Hell, surely he deserved that after everything he’d been through. He ran his hand across the back of his neck, trying to sort out his thoughts. He had no connection with this woman, no reason to turn his plans upside down to help her. The obvious solution shot into his head. ‘You could go elsewhere to do your rotation or back to Royal William.’

      A shudder of tension moved through her. ‘Royal William isn’t an option I want to pursue. Look, Port has already lost one doctor, so it can’t afford to lose me.’ She tilted her head and the brilliant blue of her eyes flickered over him, pulling hard at his sense of duty. ‘And you wouldn’t do that to a rural community who’s so enthusiastically embraced your organic vegetable venture, would you?’

      The words hit like a flyball, hard and unexpected. The woman in front of him with her long, blonde hair, honey-gold skin and an air of vulnerability had suddenly transformed from a pleading porcelain doll to a steely blackmailer. He could turn down large hospitals where there were plenty of other contenders for the job but she had him backed into a corner where his ‘no’ would impact on many hard-working people.

      He wanted to kick the tyres on the ute, he wanted to be back on the farm digging over beds filled with fragrant soil, he wanted to be anywhere but here, dealing with an unwinnable ethical dilemma. He crossed his arms and took in a deep breath. ‘That’s true, no town deserves to be without a doctor.’

      ‘So you will work in Port this summer?’ Expectation and enthusiastic anticipation filled her voice.

      A flood of heat collided with frustration. Well, she wasn’t getting everything her own way. ‘I’ll mentor you and give you the supervision you need, but I’m warning you now, I’m a tough teacher and I’ll expect one hundred and ten per cent.’ The words came out on a growl—the one he’d perfected to keep his interns on their toes. ‘But as for working, well, it will be with strict conditions.’

      He waited, expecting to see signs of anxiety at his mild threat about being a tough teacher, and he certainly expected to see both disappointment and hear questions about the conditions he planned to impose.

      But her mouth widened into a smile that raced to her eyes and seemed to dance around her like the white light of sparklers. ‘That’s fantastic. You won’t regret this, Nick, it will be a fabulous summer.’

      But every single part of him regretted it already.

      CHAPTER THREE

      KIRBY sat and stirred her coffee at an outside table, looking down and watching the white foam of her latte blend into the hot milk. Nick sat opposite her. Usually she chose this table so she could admire the view of the bay and enjoy gazing at the pelicans, fascinated by the way they lowered their feet in preparation for a water landing.

      But today she’d caught herself admiring the way Nick’s thick brown eyelashes almost touched his cheeks when he blinked and how the new streaks of silver against his temples gave him a look of authority. Unwanted tendrils of attraction had tightened inside her and she’d glanced away. It was a lot safer to stare at her coffee.

      Nick moved the straw of his smoothie up and down through the dense blend of fresh fruits. Apparently he didn’t drink coffee. This was yet another surprise as every doctor she knew considered coffee a vital part of their day, but absolutely nothing about this man fitted the picture of the doctor she’d expected. However, despite everything being at odds with expectation, he’d offered to help her and that was all that mattered.

      ‘You’re missing out on an amazing flavour just for a superficial caffeine buzz.’ He winked at her as he drank his fruit concoction, his Adam’s apple moving rhythmically and hypnotically against his taut muscular neck.

      A rush of heat burned her cheeks and she dragged her eyes away. ‘It’s not just the buzz, it’s the flavour of hazelnut.’ She already had a buzz and she hadn’t even taken a sip of her coffee. It had started simmering inside her from the moment he’d said he would mentor her. It felt oddly strange and yet deliciously wonderful and she was pretty sure it was relief.

      You can call it relief if you want to.

      She immediately took an indignant sip of her coffee and turned a deaf ear to the voice inside her head. Of course it was relief. Her search for a doctor was over and now she could stay in Port for her full six months. Stay a long way from Anthony and Lisa.

      ‘Tell me about the demographics of Port Bathurst.’ Nick pushed his large shake container off to the side, his eyes fixed firmly on her and filled with businesslike intent.

      Kirby relaxed under his professional gaze. This was the working relationship she’d anticipated when she’d asked him to mentor her. ‘Fishing and farming are the main industries but life is tough in both. Many young people are leaving town, although the mayor was telling me that recently there’s been a push to increase tourism. A new diving business has opened in the main street, along with charter fishing trips, “Surf the wave” classes and catered cycling holidays.’

      He nodded. ‘I sold vegetables from the farm gate to a family on a Gypsy Caravan adventure the other week. They’d started out from Port and were taking the back roads. Regeneration is really important for rural communities like this.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘So, how does all of this impact on the medical services?’

      ‘It keeps us busy. The clinic is attached to the hospital and there are six acute beds and a small emergency centre plus midwifery. Major traumas get airlifted to Melbourne after being stabilised here and elective surgery goes to Barago. We have a large elderly population and the hospital has a nursing-home wing which is currently full. Oh, and then there’s Kids’ Cottage.’

      His eyes darkened slightly. ‘What’s that?’

      She leaned forward as her enthusiasm for KC spilled out. ‘It’s a fabulous holiday camp for children. They have camps for sick children with chronic illnesses, they have camps for healthy kids who have siblings with chronic illnesses or disabilities, and they have camps for kids whose families are struggling emotionally or financially and just need a bit of breathing space.’

      Nick’s fingers started to unroll the rim of the shake container.