LITMIR.BIZ

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* *

      Mitchell was the only patient in the three-bed unit. Clad in sleep shorts and T-shirt, he was obviously bored, his gaze only intermittently on the television screen in front of him.

      Following Jack’s advice, Darcie went forward. ‘Hi, there, Mitchell.’ Her greeting was low-key and cheerful. ‘Just doing a final round.’

      Colour stained the youth’s face and he kept his gaze determinedly on the TV screen.

      ‘This is Dr Cassidy.’ Darcie whipped the blood-pressure cuff around the boy’s arm and began to pump. ‘He’s going to be spending some time with us here in Sunday Creek.’

      ‘Dr Drummond tells me you crash-tackled a snake recently, Mitch.’ Casually, Jack parked himself on the end of the youngster’s bed. ‘What kind was it?’

      The boy looked up sharply. ‘A western brown. They’re deadly.’

      ‘They’re different from an ordinary brown, then?’

      Almost holding her breath, Darcie watched her young patient make faltering eye contact with Jack. ‘The western is more highly coloured.’

      Jack flicked a questioning hand. ‘How’s that?’

      ‘These guys aren’t brown at all,’ Mitchell said knowledgeably. ‘They’re black with a really pale head and neck. They’re evil-looking. The guy that got me was about a metre and a half long.’

      ‘Hell’s teeth...’ Jack grimaced. ‘That’s about five feet.’

      ‘Yeah, probably. I almost peed in my pants.’

      ‘Well, lucky you didn’t do that.’ Jack’s grin was slow and filled with male bonding. ‘I heard you kept your cool pretty well.’

      Mitch lifted a shoulder dismissively. ‘Out here, you have to learn to take care of yourself from when you’re a kid. Otherwise you’re dead meat.’

      Over their young patient’s head, the doctors exchanged a guarded look. This response was just what they’d hoped for. And it seemed that once started, Mitch couldn’t stop. Aided by Jack’s subtle prompting, he relaxed like a coiled spring unwinding as he continued to regale them with what had happened.

      Finally Jack flicked a glance at his watch. ‘So, it’s home tomorrow?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Mitch’s smile flashed briefly.

      ‘What time are your parents coming, Mitchell?’ Darcie clipped the medical chart back on the end of the bed.

      ‘About ten. Uh—thanks for looking after me.’ He rushed the words out, his gaze catching Darcie’s for the briefest second before he dipped his head in embarrassment.

      ‘You’re welcome, Mitch.’ Darcie sent him a warm smile. ‘And better wear long trousers out in the paddocks from now on, hmm?’

      ‘And don’t go hassling any more snakes,’ Jack joked, pulling himself unhurriedly upright. ‘Stay cool, champ.’ He butted the kid’s fist with his own.

      ‘No worries, Doc. See ya.’

      ‘You bet.’ Jack raised a one-fingered salute.

      * * *

      ‘Thanks,’ Darcie said when they were out in corridor. ‘You were right,’ she added magnanimously.

      ‘It’s what’s called getting a second opinion,’ Jack deflected quietly. ‘I imagine they’re a bit thin on the ground out here.’

      ‘Awful to think I could have sent him home still all screwed up.’

      ‘Let it go now.’ Jack’s tone was softly insistent. ‘You’ve done a fine job. Physically, your patient is well again. He’s young and resilient. He’d have sorted himself out—probably talked to his dad or a mate.’

      She gave an off-centre smile. ‘And we can’t second-guess everything we do in medicine, can we?’

      ‘Hell, no!’ Jack pretended to shudder. ‘If we did that, we’d all be barking mad. Now, do you need to check on any more patients?’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m only next door anyway if there’s a problem.’

      ‘Good.’ In a faintly weary gesture he lifted his hands, running his fingers around his eye sockets and down over the roughness of new beard along his jaw. ‘So, we can call it a day, then? I need a shower, a shave and a cold beer, in that order.’

      ‘Oh, of course. I should have realised...’ Darcie forced herself to take a dispassionate look at him. There was no mistaking the faint shadows beneath his eyes.

      A sliver of raw awareness startled her. The fact that suddenly she wanted to reach up and smooth away those shadows, slowly and gently, startled her even more. Especially when she reminded herself that, for lots of reasons, her trust in men was still borderline.

      * * *

      The staff residence was next door to the hospital with a vacant block in between. Like the hospital, it was of weathered timber with wide verandas positioned to catch the morning sun and to offer shade during the hot summers.

      ‘Here we are.’ Darcie opened the gate and they went in, the heady scent of jasmine following them up the front path.

      ‘Hello, who’s this?’ Jack asked, as a blue heeler cattle dog roused himself from under the steps and slowly came to meet them.

      Darcie dimpled a smile. ‘That’s Capone.’

      ‘Because...?’ Jack bent and stroked the dog between his ears.

      ‘He seems to get away with everything.’

      Jack chuckled. ‘Is that so, chum?’ The dog’s black button eyes looked back innocently. ‘He’s quite old, then?’ Jack had seen the sprinkling of white hair mottling the dog’s blue-grey coat. He went on stroking. ‘What’s his story?’

      ‘Apparently, he belonged to one of the old-timers of the district.’ Darcie recounted the information as she’d heard it. ‘He died here at the hospital and his dog wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t eat and just hung around.’

      ‘So the staff adopted him?’

      ‘Something like that. Naturally, he couldn’t be kept at the hospital so gradually they coaxed him over here and he’s seems content enough to stay.’

      ‘You’re a great old boy, aren’t you?’ Jack gave a couple of hollow thumps to the bony ridge of the dog’s shoulders. He was a sucker for cattle dogs. They’d had some beauties on the farm when he’d been growing up.

      ‘Well, he seems to have taken to you.’

      ‘Seems to.’ Jack’s expression softened for a moment.

      Darcie took a shallow breath, all her nerve ends twanging. What a very compelling picture they made—a big man and his dog... She beat back the sudden urge to reach for her phone and take a picture. How absurd. How sentimental. Shooting her sensible thoughts back in place, she said briskly, ‘Let’s go in, shall we?

      ‘There are six bedrooms, all quite large,’ Darcie said as they made their along the wide hallway. ‘Our funding allows for some domestic help. Meg McLeish keeps everything ticking over. She’s a real gem.’

      Jack managed a polite, ‘Mmm.’ He didn’t need this kind of detail but it was a female thing. He got that.

      ‘You should be comfortable in here.’ Darcie opened the door on the freshness of lemon-scented furniture polish.

      Jack’s gaze tracked over the room, taking in the king-sized bed, fitted wardrobes and bedside tables. ‘This is great, Darcie. Thanks. I’ll manage from here.’

      Darcie took a step back. Was he was trying to get rid of her? Tough. She hadn’t finished. ‘There’s a linen cupboard at the end of

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