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me?’ Eyelids flickered, which Dan took for a yes. ‘You’ve been in an accident. A wave swept you off the rocks. I’m checking for broken bones. Okay?’

      Dan didn’t expect an answer. He didn’t get one. He wasn’t sure if the boy could hear clearly or was just responding to any vocal sounds, so he kept talking. It must be hellishly frightening for Anders to be surrounded by strangers while in pain and freezing cold.

      Beneath the thermal blanket Dan felt the boy’s abdomen. No hard swelling to indicate internal bleeding. The spleen felt normal. So far so good. But the sooner this boy was in hospital the better.

      ‘That left arm doesn’t look right,’ a knowledgeable, and sensual, feminine voice spoke across the boy.

      Dan’s fingers worked at the point where the arm twisted under Anders’s body. His nod was terse. ‘Compound fracture, and dislocated shoulder.’

      ‘Are we going to pop that shoulder back in place now?’

      ‘We should. Otherwise the time frame will be too long and he might require surgery.’

      ‘I’ll hold him for you.’ No questions, no time wasting. She trusted him to get on with it.

      Daniel appreciated anyone who trusted his judgement, or anything about him, come to that. His mouth twisted sideways as he slid the boy’s tattered shirt away from his shoulder. ‘A shot of morphine will make him more comfortable.’

      The drug quickly took effect. Dan raised the arm and, using all his strength, rotated the head of the humerus, popping the ball joint back into its socket. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

      The woman lifted Anders’s upper body while Dan wound a crepe bandage around the shoulder to hold it in place temporarily. As they worked, a whiff of her exotic perfume tantalised him, brought memories of another fragrance, another woman. His wife. She’d always worn perfume, even when mucking out the horses.

      ‘Where’s that ambulance?’ He was brusque, annoyed at the painful images conjured up in his mind by a darned scent.

      Warmth touched his face, and so distracted had he been that it took a moment to realise that it was the sun. A quick look around showed the clouds had rolled back and once again the beach was sparkling as it bathed in the yellow light. Things were looking up.

      As though reading his mind, Pat said, ‘Now that the rain has moved up the coast, the helicopter will be on its way. That’ll make our search a little easier.’

      The boy’s father. Dan’s stomach clenched as he looked up at Pat, saw the imperceptible shake of the cop’s head in answer to his unspoken question. Deep sadness gripped him. Time was running out to find the man alive.

      ‘It was sheer chance the men found the lad when they did.’ Even as Pat talked they heard the deep sound of rotors beating in the air.

      ‘Hey, Daniel,’ a familiar voice called. Kerry was a local volunteer ambulance officer. ‘What’ve we got?’

      Dan quickly filled him in and within moments Anders was being ferried on a stretcher to the ambulance. There went one very lucky boy. Dan watched the vehicle pull away, thinking about the waves throwing a body onto the sharp jags of the rocks. He shivered abruptly.

      ‘What happened out there?’ The woman stood beside him, nodding towards the sea.

      Dan shook the image from his head and turned to face this other distraction. His world tilted as he once more looked into those fathomless eyes. It was hard to focus on answering her question. ‘Anders and his father were fishing off the rocks—’

      ‘In this weather? That’s crazy,’ she interrupted.

      ‘Of course it’s crazy.’ His jaw tightened. ‘But it happens. Anders slipped and his father leapt in after him.’

      ‘And the father’s still missing.’ It was a soft statement of fact. Her eyes were directed to the sea, scanning the horizon.

      ‘I’m afraid so.’ He lightened his tone. ‘Thank you for your help. You happened along at exactly the right moment.’ He wouldn’t thank her for the unwelcome hollow feeling in his gut that had started when this perturbing woman had arrived. Or the sensation of something missing from his life that he hadn’t been aware of until now. Soon she’d be on her way and then he’d forget this silly, unwelcome impression she’d made.

      ‘You can thank the appalling weather for that. I’d pulled off the road, and when the rain cleared I saw you all down here.’

      His eyes scanned the close horizon. Already the sun was disappearing behind a veil of clouds. ‘Looks like we’re in for more.’

      ‘When doesn’t it rain?’ Exasperation tightened her face.

      ‘If it’s not raining around here that’s because it either just stopped or is about to start.’ In reality it wasn’t all that bad, but why destroy the coast’s reputation for bad weather? Especially with someone just passing through. Weird how that notion suddenly saddened him. Odd that a complete stranger had rocked him, reminding him of things he’d deliberately forgotten for years.

      A sudden, unexpected thought slammed into his brain. Maybe it was time to start dating again. Like when? If he didn’t have time for his daughter, how would he manage fitting another person into his life? He couldn’t. End of story. End of stupid ideas.

      The woman’s tight smile was still in place as her hands wiped at her damp jacket. ‘Guess we just had a fine spell, then.’

      ‘At least you got to see it.’ He mustered a joke, and was rewarded with a light laugh. A carefree tinkle that hovered in the air between them, drew him closer to her, wound an invisible thread around them both.

      Then she glanced down at her feet and grimaced with disgust as she noticed the sloppy, glue-like mud that coated her pretty sandals. He’d swear she shuddered. Definitely a city dweller. Nothing like the women he knew and loved: wholesome, country women like his sisters and his late wife.

      Trying to sound sympathetic, he said, ‘You should’ve worn gumboots.’

      ‘Gumboots?’ Those carefully crafted eyebrows rose with indignation.

      ‘Yes. Rubber boots that reach the tops of your shins.’

      ‘I know what gumboots are.’

      Bet she’d never worn them. ‘Sure you do.’

      ‘Do you suppose I might be able to get a designer pair?’

      ‘Possum fur around the tops?’ Keep it light, then send her on her way before he did something dumb, like offer her coffee.

      She tilted her head to one side. ‘How about crochet daisies? Yellow, to contrast with the black rubber.’

      ‘Hey, Dan, you heading to the hospital?’ Pat called across the sand.

      Thankful for the interruption, Dan shook his head. ‘No, Alison can take care of the lad. I’ll hang around in case the guys find Starne senior.’ He patted his belt, checking for his pager.

      ‘Who’s Alison?’ the woman beside him asked.

      ‘She’s in charge of the emergency department and has a surgical background. She’d call if she needs me.’ What does this have to do with you? You’re an outsider.

      ‘Do you mind if I wait a while with you?’

      Yes, I do. Inexplicably he wanted her gone. As though a safety mechanism was warning him to get away from her before it was too late.

      Yet he couldn’t prevent his head turning towards her. Blonde strands of hair whipped across her cheeks in the skittish wind. He let his gaze wander over her. She was designer from head to foot. Her jacket was soft suede. Her well-fitted trousers had not come off a rack, at least not any ordinary shop rack. But what really caught his interest were the long, shapely legs those wet trousers clung to. They went on for ever.

      ‘Pardon?

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