Dr. Finlay's Courageous Bride, page 14
The girl turned and fled. She was good, was Issy. She knew the locals—she’d probably be able to track the dentist down herself.
The tube was sliding home, and the moment it did Don’s desperate efforts to breathe pretty much eased. The hiss of the air through the tube was a comfort. Standing by the wall, Kath almost visibly slumped.
‘Oh, thank God. Oh, my...is it the antibiotic?’
‘Most likely,’ Mia told her and then glanced at Rab. With the immediate danger past they had a little time. ‘Let’s make you a cup of tea and ring your daughters to come and join you. You’ve had a fright and you need company. Oh, and you might ask one of them to stop at your place and pack Don’s PJs and toothbrush.’
‘Will he need to stay the night?’
Mia’s gaze flew to Rab’s. Their eyes met and she knew that her guess—that this was no minor reaction, something major was happening—was spot-on.
‘Certainly tonight,’ she told her. ‘It’ll take a while for the swelling to go down.’
And then Issy was back in the room. ‘There was still someone in the clinic,’ she told them. ‘Not the dentist—she’s a locum there while Marjorie Chambers is on holiday—and she’d gone home for the day. But there was a dental nurse catching up on something. She looked at the records. Penicillin.’
There was a moment’s stillness. Anaphylaxis caused by penicillin was as rare as hen’s teeth, but the potential consequences were appalling. There was a reason doctors asked for medical history when they prescribed drugs, and this was a major one. Breathing difficulties could be the least of it.
‘That’s great,’ Rab said, but the look he gave Mia said it all. It wasn’t great at all, but there was no use terrifying Kath any more. Not now. ‘Issy, could you take Kath for her cup of tea? Mia, I need you to keep an eye on this tube for a bit.’ He sent an apologetic glance to Kath. ‘You’ve come at a busy time, and I need to make a couple of phone calls.’
* * *
The medevac chopper landed in the paddock behind the hospital at eight that night. Two paramedics were aboard. No doctor. ‘There wasn’t anyone available,’ they’d told Rab.
Rab had only seen such an allergic reaction once in his medical career before. It had been a child. He still couldn’t bear thinking about it.
He knew he had to go on the chopper.
‘There’s a real risk of heart failure,’ he told Mia and Ewan. Ewan had arrived back at the hospital within half an hour of Don’s arrival—this valley had ears.
‘Yeah,’ Ewan agreed. ‘Rhonda’s gone to their place with one of the daughters, packing stuff for Kath. Kath’ll go with him too, but the kids’ll go by car. I told them it might take a few days. Maybe by a miracle he’ll come out of it fast but... Anyway, Rab, I agree, you need to go too.’
He didn’t need to say any more.
Mia had seen this reaction once before too. An older woman. It had taken her months to recover.
They were busy, trying to stabilise Don, trying to think of every eventuality, every medical crisis Rab could face in the hour-long journey.
And then they were gone and suddenly Mia felt like slumping into the nearest chair and weeping.
It was this valley, she thought. It had protected her, saved her, and its inhabitants felt like part of her. To lose one of them... No.
And now she’d go home tonight without Rab. He was flying back to Sydney—where he belonged. He’d come back, she knew he would, but only for another three months.
Unless...
Dammit, why were these emotions surfacing now?
‘Go home.’ Ewan was watching her face. He knew her well, this man. He’d seen her almost at her worst and she could hardly hide things from him now. ‘Would you like one of us to come and stay the night with you? It’s a bit lonely, staying in that big house by yourself.’
He saw too much, did Ewan. He was watching her and she knew darn well he wasn’t thinking she was spooked by a big house. But that she’d miss...her husband.
Her pretend husband, she told herself fiercely. Pretend.
‘Hey, we’ve been in and out of that house while we’ve been on call any time these last nine months,’ she said, managing a smile. ‘I’m not dependent...’
‘On anything or anyone. I get that.’ His smile was infinitely gentle. ‘And that’s a problem I was starting to hope Rab had fixed. But it’s okay,’ he added as he saw her flinch. ‘There’s time. And meanwhile you have Boris. Go home and hug your dog, girl. Don’ll be okay, Rab will see to that. You can trust him, lass. You really can.’
‘I know I can,’ she said, and kept her smile determinedly fixed. ‘Thanks, Ewan. Goodnight.’ And she went out to the car park and headed for home.
Home?
Home is where the heart is. The trite little saying started playing over and over in her head as she drove. So...home?
Maybe home was in a helicopter, somewhere in the night sky. Heading for Sydney.
* * *
Why did he hate leaving her tonight?
It was the news she’d told him at breakfast, her expression. She was terrified.
He was totally caught up with Don’s care. He and the paramedics were throwing every ounce of their combined skill at preserving vital signs, when the sheer force of the reaction to the antibiotic was doing the exact opposite.
But still there was a tiny part of his brain that was telling him he should have told Ewan about Harvey’s release, urged her to stay with him, maybe urged Rhonda or Joanne or Issy to stay with her tonight.
Which was stupid. Firstly, the guy had only just got out of prison. Even if he was intent on revenge, Mia was right, she’d protected herself well. It’d take time and effort to find her.
And, secondly, he knew exactly how she would have reacted if he’d suggested it.
‘I’m safe because of my choices, because of my strengths.’
Her voice still echoed in his head, telling him to butt out.
But she did need him. He could see it in her reaction, in the way she’d folded into him for the hug. And he wanted her to need him. He ached for it.
Why couldn’t she see that it was no weakness? That it’d be his privilege to take care of her for the rest of her life.
And then Don’s body gave a convulsive jerk and he glanced at the monitors. His heart... This was what they most feared.
The thought of Mia disappeared, or almost disappeared, as every fibre of his medical self fought to keep the guy alive. Don needed him, right here, right now. Mia, not so much.
The fact that he wanted her to need him?
Put it away, he told himself. The thought of Mia folded against his chest this morning had to be put aside.
For now. There had to be a future, he told himself.
Please.
* * *
She pulled up outside the darkened homestead and let herself sit for a moment. The silence enveloped her. Home.
Home without Rab?
Yeah, well, she was used to it. During the last nine months she and Rab had worked as medics, sometimes together, often apart. They’d both had calls that hadn’t involved the other. They were used to coming home alone.
So why was she sitting in the car now, not wanting to go in?
Because the parole board had written her a letter.
Because Rab wouldn’t be here.
Both those things were irrelevant. They had nothing to do with her. ‘You’ve spent the last ten years finding independence and control,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Don’t falter at the first hurdle.’
Was Rab a hurdle?
He certainly threatened her independence. She thought of how she’d felt this morning, hugged against his sweater. Safe. Protected.
Stupid.
But he wanted her to need him. She could see that. He’d like nothing better than to protect her for the rest of her life.
Which would make her feel small. She could hardly understand it herself, the sensation of falling she had when she was with him. The desire to be his, and yet the fierce determination to be nobody’s.
Maybe she should ring her therapist again. Hey, Lorna, I have this gorgeous hunk who wants to love and protect me for the rest of my life.
But she knew what Lorna would say. Mia, is this another shield against the world?
Maybe it was, and she didn’t need it.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, she was emotional and tired and Boris was inside, probably aching for a walk. It’d have to be a quick one tonight, though, she thought. Maybe she could pour herself a glass of wine, sit on the steps and tell him to romp in the front paddock. There were enough rabbits down there to keep him happy.
Do it, she told herself and climbed from the car.
She opened the front door, expecting Boris to come hurtling to greet her.
‘Boris?’
Nothing.
And with that the shadows came flooding back, a fear so overwhelming it made her stagger—even before the door closed behind her and hands gripped and held.
Before something jabbed hard into her thigh. Before the hold on her tightened still further.
Before the gasping struggle for breath.
Before blackness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HE FLEW BACK at dawn.
He was exhausted. He’d been awake most of the night and there’d been an offer to stay on and get a decent sleep at Sydney Central. Which would have been sensible.
But Don was in the best of hands. It’d take time for him to recover from such a massive allergic reaction, but he was in the Intensive Care Unit in one of the best hospitals in the world. He had his wife with him. His daughters were driving up from the valley this morning. There was every chance he’d make a full recovery. There was nothing more for Rab to do. When the medevac operator rang and said there was a flight leaving from dawn to pick someone up from Colambool and offering him a lift, there seemed no choice.
He wanted to be home.
The chopper crew—a different team from the one who’d flown the night before—were friendly and accommodating. They checked the paddock in front of Wiradjuri and saw no reason why they shouldn’t set him down there, and two minutes after he landed he was opening the front door.
Which wasn’t locked.
Mia must have taken Boris for an early walk, he thought, but then he heard an urgent scratching from further down the passage.
He headed for the kitchen, opened the door and Boris almost knocked him over in his joy to be out. But three quick licks and the dog was gone, hurtling down the passage and out into the yard. He was clearly heading to do what a well-trained dog would never allow himself to do on the kitchen floor.
Rab stared after him, feeling...as if the floor was shaking under him.
‘Mia?’ His first call was tentative. His next was almost a shout, and he’d turned and was at Mia’s bedroom door before he realised it.
The room was empty, the bed was made. The room looked impersonal. Well, what was new? She’d never made it homelike, he thought tangentially.
She didn’t feel that she belonged here.
She wasn’t here now. If it wasn’t for Boris he might have thought...
No. Her suitcase was on top of the wardrobe. He tugged the wardrobe doors open and her clothes were still lined up.
She could have gone to work early, but Boris... Why had Boris been locked in?
He headed back to the hall, kicking open the bathroom door as he went. Just in case.
In case what? That she’d collapsed? Had an accident?
He headed outside. Boris bounded back to greet him, welcoming him like a long-lost friend.
The Mini was still here.
Where...?
He turned and stared inside, and then he saw what he hadn’t noticed as he’d gone in the first time. On the sitting room floor, looking as if it had been kicked from across from the hall, lay her purse. Three strides and he was kneeling, hauling it open.
Her phone was inside.
And then he saw the empty syringe.
His heart felt as if it had been clutched by icy fingers. No!
He went to lift it, then had enough forethought to grab an antimacassar from the back of one of his grandfather’s chairs. He used it to lift the syringe, holding it to the light. He saw the remains of a clear substance. He squeezed and lifted it to his nose.
Nothing.
Phenobarb? Morphine? That was his surgical training kicking in.
Heroin? Much more likely.
But any of those options made his heart clench. If this syringe had been full, then no matter what it was, it was more than enough to knock out someone a lot larger than Mia.
And side effects were blazing in his head. Irregular heartbeat. Low blood pressure.
Death.
Dear God, if this was Harvey... If he’d administered the drug by force...
It was all he could do not to throw up, but that’d help no one. He forced himself to breathe slowly, staying very still, forcing his mind back from dread.
How long ago had this happened? Where would he have taken her?
Could she be dead?
He couldn’t think it. Not for a moment.
Boris came in and sat beside him, looking puzzled, putting his great head forward so he could lick his face.
Strangely, the sensation of the dog’s rasping tongue against his cheek helped. Boris was looking at him as if he was the one to pull them out of this nightmare.
So do something.
Police.
He grabbed his phone and the local cop answered on the second ring. Brian was a friend of Mia’s. Everyone was a friend of Mia’s.
‘I’ll be there in two minutes. Don’t touch anything,’ he growled, and the phone went dead.
What next?
Somehow he forced his dazed mind to think. If he’d meant to kill her, surely he would have done it here. So surely he wanted her alive? He didn’t know that for certain, but anything else was unthinkable.
So he wanted her alive, but not here?
Somewhere.
Think!
And then he had it, a sliver of memory from a long-ago conversation.
‘Harvey lived in a huge house at the bottom of the district’s only hill...’
And... ‘I bet it’s still his. It was sold when he went to jail but one of his mates bought it, and I’m betting he’ll end up back there.’
Where had she said it was?
Corduna.
He grabbed his phone and did a search. Corduna. Three hours away by road.
There had to be somewhere else. He surely wouldn’t take her all that way, drugged, unconscious.
Dead?
He couldn’t want her dead, he told himself again, clinging desperately to that hope. If he wanted to kill her, he never would have bothered with drugs. No, he’d want vengeance first, he thought, a way to punish her for ten years of prison.
Boris had sat back on his haunches, head cocked to the side, obviously puzzled that Rab was still on his knees, staring into middle distance. He grabbed the dog and hugged him, and Boris obliged by putting his huge head into his chest and nuzzling. It was pretty much a cuddle of comfort.
It was Mia who needed the cuddle, he thought savagely. It was Mia who needed him.
Where was Brian? There was nothing he could do until the police arrived. He had to sit still and wait.
He held the dog tight against him, using his warmth, the solid trust of him, to catch himself, to regroup, to figure that he could stand up, head out to the veranda, meet Brian, figure a plan.
He had to get to Mia. Mia needed him.
And then, as he held Boris tighter, as the dog’s raspy tongue found his cheek again, he thought suddenly, stupidly, that he needed Boris.
And it was as if a chink in his heart was suddenly being crowbarred open. He needed the dog’s presence. He needed...
He needed Mia.
This way he was feeling... He had to get to Mia, rescue her, save her, but it wasn’t all about Mia’s need. He needed her to be where Boris was right now. He needed her against his heart.
He’d told Mia he wanted to marry her to protect her, to love her, to keep her safe. She needed him, of course she did. But now...
He closed his eyes as the wash of self-knowledge grew so great it threatened to overwhelm him.
Somewhere out there was the woman he loved.
Somewhere out there was the woman he needed more than life itself.
It wasn’t Mia’s need, it was his.
Somewhere out there was...his home.
* * *
She woke to blackness. She woke to absolute confusion.
She felt sick, fuzzy, weird. The world seemed to be spinning around her. Nothing made sense. She wanted, badly, to be sick. There were no lights, or maybe there were but they were intermittent. Flash, nothing, nothing, nothing, flash, nothing, flash...
The only thing she could do was to focus quite hard on not throwing up, and it took pretty much every ounce of self-discipline she had. For some reason it felt vitally important not to vomit. To retch alone in the darkness... The indignity as well as the mess... She wouldn’t do it. And overriding everything else was the age-old instinct of wounded creatures, to lie still, to stay hidden until they knew the threat.
And the threat was suddenly with her. Slivers of memory were returning.
She lay still, fighting for control of her body and fighting for control of panic as images flooded back.
Harvey. His great body looming over her. Hands holding her down, turning her face to the floor.
