LITMIR.BIZ

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the nearest medical help?’ Callum demanded of a guy with a radio who appeared to be the head honcho.

      ‘We’re about twenty clicks out of Condobolin. Ambulance will meet us at the station. A rescue chopper is being scrambled from Dubbo.’

      ‘How long will it take to get to Condobolin?’

      ‘The driver’s speeding her up. Fifteen minutes tops.’

      Callum wasn’t sure Jock had fifteen minutes, especially if he wasn’t in a shockable rhythm. He wished he had oxygen and intubation gear. He wished he had an IV and access to fluids and drugs. He wished he had that ambulance right here right now. And a cardiac catheter lab at his disposal.

      But he didn’t. He had a defibrillator and Felicity.

      He glanced at her. He didn’t have to ask to know she was thinking the same thing. Fifteen minutes was like a lifetime in this situation, where every second meant oxygen starvation of vital tissues.

      ‘Piece of cake,’ she muttered, a small smile on her lips, before returning her attention to the task at hand.

      He smiled to himself as he leaned down to blow into the mask. There was controlled panic all around him, with orders being given and radio static and the loud clatter of wheels on the track as the train sped to Condobolin. Somewhere he could vaguely hear poor Thelma sobbing. But amidst it all Felicity was calm and determined and so was he. Fifteen minutes? He’d done CPR for much longer.

      ‘Check rhythm.’

      Felicity stopped so the machine could do its thing. When it recommended another shock they followed the all-clear procedure again and once more the entire lounge fell silent, apart from Thelma’s sobs.

      Jock’s chest arced again but this time it was successful.

      ‘Normal rhythm,’ the machine, no bigger than a couple of house bricks, pronounced.

      Felicity gasped, a broad smile like the rising sun breaking over her face. ‘I’ve got a pulse,’ he confirmed, grinning back. ‘Jock?’ Callum pulled the mask away. ‘Can you hear me, Jock?’

      Jock gave a slight moan and made a feeble attempt to move a hand. ‘Jock? Jock!’ Thelma threw herself down beside them.

      ‘Is he okay?’ she asked, looking first at Callum then at Felicity through puffy red eyes.

      ‘We got him back,’ Callum said. Both of them knew he wasn’t out of danger but it was something.

      Felicity reached across and squeezed Thelma’s arm. ‘He’s still very unstable,’ she said gently. ‘But it’s a good sign.’

      Callum was relieved when the train pulled into the station, even if the strobing of red and blue lights around the iron and tin structure of the roof created a bizarre discotheque. Very quickly a drowsy Jock was transported out of the train to the ambulance, accompanied by a paramedic, Callum, Felicity, Thelma and the rail guy with the radio.

      Finally Callum had access to oxygen and a heart monitor. It was worrying to see multiple ectopic beats and runs of ventricular tachycardia, though, and Callum crossed his fingers that Jock’s heart would hold out until he got the primary cardiac care he so urgently needed.

      Callum and the paramedic whacked in two large-bore IVs and then Felicity was helping Thelma into the ambulance and he was getting in the back with Jock. There was no question in his mind that he’d stay with the old man and hand over to the medivac crew when they landed at the airstrip in approximately fifteen minutes’ time.

      He glanced out the back window as the rig pulled away, the siren a mournful wail in the deserted streets of the tiny outback town. Felicity was framed in the strobing lights, staring after the ambulance. She looked exactly the way he suspected they all probably looked. A little shell-shocked as the adrenaline that had ridden them hard started to ebb.

      But also strong and calm. As she had been throughout.

      This was not how he’d pictured tonight would end, and as the mantle of regret settled into his bones he knew their moment had passed.

      He watched her with a heavy heart until she faded from sight.

       CHAPTER THREE

      FELICITY LAY AWAKE on her bed an hour later, staring out the window. The train was still stationary at Condobolin station, which was in darkness after the ghoulish flashing of emergency lights. Her compartment was also in darkness, except for the slice of light coming in from the hallway through her open door.

      Callum hadn’t returned and she couldn’t sleep.

      After the ambulance had disappeared she’d gone back to her compartment and showered, standing beneath the spray shaking like a leaf as the adrenaline that had sustained her during the emergency had released her from its grip.

      She’d waited around in the lounge for a while after they’d gone, thinking Callum would be back soon. Some of her fellow passengers joined her, curious to know what was happening, but they didn’t linger and eventually Donald had urged her to go back to her compartment and try and get some sleep.

      But she couldn’t. It was hard to shut her brain down after what had transpired.

      She was about to give up, switch her light on and grab a book out of her bag when Callum strode by her door.

      ‘Oh...hi,’ he said, obviously surprised to see her awake and her door open as he pulled up short. She’d deliberately left it ajar because she didn’t want to miss his return.

      Felicity sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘You’re back.’ She stood and took a couple of paces towards him, conscious, as he took up all the space in her doorway, of how different she looked now in loose yoga pants and T with bare feet, compared to the high-heeled, little-black-dress woman he’d been flirting with earlier.

      He looked exactly the same. Only sexier. His calm and control when everyone else around them had been losing their heads had kicked his good looks up to a whole other level.

      Why was competence so damn attractive?

      ‘How’s Jock? Did the medivac transfer go smoothly?’

      ‘Not really. He went into VF while we were waiting for the plane and we had to shock him twice to get him back.’

      Felicity pressed her hand to her mouth, a hot spike of concern needling her. ‘I was worried something was going down. You were gone so long.’

      ‘I stuck around and helped them stabilise him for transport.’

      ‘Of course.’ They’d have wanted to have everything as controlled as possible before they loaded him on the chopper to avoid any chance of midair deterioration. ‘What are his chances, do you think?’ she asked, folding her arms.

      ‘I don’t know. He’s not very stable at the moment. It’s a forty-minute chopper flight to Dubbo hospital and by that time he’ll be about ninety minutes post–cardiac tissue injury. He’s inside the window, so fingers crossed, with some tertiary management he should be okay. I’ll check on him when we get into Adelaide tomorrow.’

      Felicity nodded. ‘I guess we’re going to be kind of late into Adelaide.’

      ‘I guess we are. Although Donald reckons they’ll be able to make up a lot of the time.’

      ‘I’m in no hurry,’ she said, and gave him a smile because she could stay on this train and look at him for a decade and it probably still wouldn’t be long enough.

      He smiled back, his gaze locking with hers. ‘Neither am I.’

      There was silence for a beat or two while they just stood and smiled at each other in some weird moment of shared intimacy as only two people who’d been through such a high-stakes ordeal could.

      The

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