The Doctor's Outback Baby

“Don’t shut me out, Clara. I’m here for you.”

She gave a low laugh. “But for how long, Timothy? Soon you’ll be up in Queensland with your underwater camera, snapping away at the reef.”

Soon he would be gone, out of her life and on to new pastures, and what then?

She’d always been independent, self-reliant, but Timothy had crept into her heart with alarming stealth, become the rock she leaned on, her hope, her sounding board—and all too soon he was going to be taken away.

Of course she wanted him to stay—she wanted that more than anything else in the world—but she was terrified. Terrified of telling him just how much she wanted it.

Dear Reader,

If this is your first visit to the fictional outback town of Tennengarrah, I hope you enjoy your stay. For me, even though I had always intended to revisit, it happened sooner rather than later.

One night, many possibilities.

That was how my idea for this book started. I decided to go back to Tennengarrah’s annual ball, where I last left the town—only this time to witness it through the eyes of my gorgeous new heroine, Clara.

It was great catching up with old friends and making new ones along the way—so good in fact I might just do it all again very soon.

Happy reading.

Carol Marinelli

The Doctor’s Outback Baby

Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

Cover

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright

PROLOGUE

‘I HATE to ask.’

Clara gritted her teeth as Shelly came through the clinic doors brandishing the off-duty book. Everyone always ‘hated to ask’, but it certainly didn’t seem to stop them from doing exactly that!

‘I just don’t see how we can ask Irene to prepare Bill for the flight and give the Flying Doctors a hand-over—she was only supposed to be babysitting the clinic.’

‘She is a registered nurse,’ Clara pointed out.

‘Who barely practises.’ Shelly had a point, Clara could see that much. Bill Nash, after weeks of deliberation, had chosen today to finally agree to the cardiac bypass surgery he desperately needed. And as luck would have it, the surgeons in Adelaide had a theatre cancellation on Monday, which hopefully wouldn’t give Bill too much opportunity to change his mind.

Which was great and everything. But today also happened to be the one day in the year when something actually happened in the remote outback town of Tennengarrah. She’d requested the night off months ago. As soon as the ball committee had decided on the date Clara had penciled her request into the roster. She’d even booked a hair appointment, hoping that for one night at least her rather thin, impossibly straight, short red hair could be somehow transformed. And now here was Shelly, who also happened to be a registered nurse, asking her, yet again, if she would mind saving the day.

‘Surely there’s someone else,’ Clara mumbled, hoping Shelly would take the hint but knowing it was futile. It wouldn’t even enter Shelly’s head to put her hand up.

Why bother when there was good old Clara?

‘There isn’t,’ Shelly sighed. ‘Kell’s the only other nurse and as he’s on a day off I can’t get hold of him. We might not even need anyone. The Flying Doctors could come at any time, they might even be here this morning and then tonight’s off duty won’t even be an issue. But when they do come they’re going to want a thorough handover, it’s just not fair to ask Irene to do it when she’s barely looked after him. Look, Clara, I’d do it myself, it’s just…’ Her voice trailed off, and Clara knew she was waiting for her to jump in, knew Shelly was waiting for her to let out an incredulous laugh and say, no, don’t worry. She knew how much Shelly was looking forward to the ball, knew Shelly had been on a post-pregnancy diet for weeks and was looking forward to finally having a romantic night with her husband Ross, Tennengarrah’s resident doctor, and that of course Clara wasn’t suggesting that she actually work tonight.

But for the first time in living memory Clara stood firm. Tonight was just too important to her.

‘What about Abby?’ Clara suggested hopefully, and not with entirely innocent intentions either. Abby Hampton, an efficient doctor from the city who was nearing the end of her three-month stint in the outback, had been the thorn in Clara’s side for weeks now and the prospect of Tennengarrah’s ball without the stunning Dr Hampton present was extremely appealing. Even so, Clara blushed guiltily as she pressed the point, knowing her motives weren’t entirely pure. ‘I know she’s a doctor, but we all pitch in with things like this, and she’s not exactly enamoured of the place. I’m sure Abby wouldn’t mind holding the fort.’

‘I can’t ask Abby.’ Shelly shook her head, but an excited smile was starting to form on her lips as she looked around to check that the coast was clear. ‘Honestly, Clara, I just can’t.’

‘What’s going on?’ Clara asked. ‘Come on, Shelly, tell me. There’s only Bill here and he’s asleep. Why can’t you ask Abby?’

‘You have to promise not to breathe a word.’ Shelly’s eyes were wide. She was grinning broadly now and Clara found herself reluctantly smiling back, her annoyance with Shelly’s thoughtlessness evaporating at the chance of a piece of gossip.

‘I promise. Come on, Shelly, don’t keep me in suspense. Has she finally decided to head off back to Sydney to her beloved emergency department?’ Clara asked, rather too hopefully.

‘Oh, it’s better than that,’ Shelly said excitedly, perching herself on the edge of the desk and beckoning Clara closer. ‘And if you let it slip I’ll never—’

‘Get on with it.’ Clara laughed, sitting back on her seat and waiting to hear what Shelly was so excited about.

‘I can’t ask Abby to work tonight, because I have it on excellent authority that someone else wants to ask her something.’

‘I’m not with you.’ Clara shook her head, bemused.

‘You really don’t have a clue, do you? Where have you been hiding the last week or so, Clara? The bush telegraph’s been working overtime,’ Shelly whispered excitedly. ‘Guess where Kell is?’

‘On a day off.’

‘Yes, but guess what he’s doing?’

‘He said he was going into town,’ Clara shrugged. ‘Bruce was going to fly him there.’

‘Which he did a couple of weeks ago, and Bruce saw him going into a jeweller’s!’ When Clara still didn’t catch on Shelly thumped her playfully on the arm, jumping off the desk with an excited whoop as for Clara reality finally dawned. ‘Kell’s going to ask Abby to marry him, Clara! I’m on my way over to Abby’s now. I’ve managed to squeeze her in to get her hair and nails done, though she’s absolutely no idea what Kell’s got planned. I can’t possibly tell her that Bill’s finally decided to have the op or she’ll be over in a flash, that’s why I’m bending over backwards to sort out the roster and make sure everything goes smoothly. Nothing must spoil tonight for them. Can you believe Kell’s actually going to propose?’

Clara couldn’t.

For a moment the world stopped. She could hear Shelly laughing and talking in the background, was vaguely aware even of Ross and some other guy walking in, but for that moment in time her heart felt as if it wasn’t beating any more. Clutching Bill’s pile of notes to her chest as if it were some sort of shield, she sat there as the news washed over her.

Kell Bevan was going to propose.

After all these years Kell had finally got off his blue-jeaned backside and made a flight into town to pick up a ring on the day of the Tennengarrah ball.

It was just how she’d imagined it.

Just how she’d secretly dreamed it would be. The barn alight with fairy-lights, tea-candles burning on the tables, the scent of white gardenias filling the night air, the stars twinkling endlessly above as Kell finally proposed.

Maybe she hadn’t prayed hard enough.

Perhaps when she’d made the mental bargain with the powers that be she hadn’t been specific enough, had forgotten to point out what should have been so blazingly obvious.

Kell should have been asking her.

CHAPTER ONE

‘AND this is Clara, who knows more about Tennengarrah than the whole lot of us put together, don’t you?’

‘Sorry?’ Realising that not only was she being spoken to but that a response was very much the order of the day, Clara turned her slightly startled expression to Ross.

‘I was just telling Timothy here how much we all depend on you, and that if he needs anything he only has to ask.’ Ross Bodey’s rather strained smile left Clara in no doubt she’d been daydreaming too long and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

‘He’s the new doctor,’ Shelly mumbled in an undertone, pushing Clara forward to shake Timothy’s outstretched hand. ‘From England.’

‘But you’re not due for a couple of weeks yet.’

It wasn’t the most welcoming of greetings—in fact, on a rating of one to ten it would barely have scored—but, given the bombshell Shelly had just been dropped, Clara was amazed she could actually speak, and what was more her voice even sounded vaguely familiar!

‘I ran out of cash.’

His admission startled her out of her confusion momentarily. Shifting the pile of notes into one arm, Clara accepted the outstretched hand and found herself looking into two smiling green eyes, even managing a rather forced smile back as thankfully he went over the formalities she had clearly missed.

‘Timothy Morgan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Clara Watts,’ she mumbled, stealing a closer look. He certainly didn’t look like someone who would run out of cash. His clothes, though casual, were certainly top notch and he had a very English, rather upper-crust accent, his thick curly brown hair was superbly cut but, more importantly, there was a slightly unassuming air about him, a refreshing openness to the smile he easily imparted as he shook her hand firmly. ‘So you’re from England. Are you here on a working holiday?’

‘That’s right,’ Timothy answered cheerfully. ‘Though I’ve been away for nearly a year now, working and trying to fit in all the touristy things.’

Lord, he could talk. She’d only asked a question to be polite! All Clara really wanted to do was dash off to the loo, bury her head in her hands and go over the news Shelly had so happily imparted. But instead she had to stand and make polite noises as Dr Timothy Morgan took her on an impromptu virtual tour of Australia, pulling photos out of his pocket like a magician as he told her how he’d bought a cheap ute, worked his way down the east coast of Australia and was now working his way up the middle.

‘I was hoping to make my fortune in Coober Pedey,’ Timothy chattered on easily. ‘I read in my guide book that some tourists make enough to fund their entire trip, only in my case I spent three weeks fossicking in the dirt for opals and ended up spending a fortune having the two tiny stones I found mounted, which wasn’t exactly the plan, so I’m hoping to start here early.’

‘How early?’ Shelly asked hopefully, peering at the roster as Ross started to laugh.

‘You can’t ask the poor guy to work on his first night here—he should be over at the ball, getting to know all the locals in one swoop. What’s the problem?’

‘I can’t get anyone to work tonight.’

‘But I thought Irene was coming.’

‘She is, but she made it very clear she doesn’t want to hand over to the Flying Doctors. So if they don’t get here before seven, one of us is going to have to be here, and I can hardly ask Kell or Abby.’

‘And you can’t ask Clara,’ Ross said firmly. ‘She’s on the ball committee, for goodness’ sake, they’ve been planning this for months.’

‘No, you can’t ask Clara.’

The conversation that had been taking place ended abruptly, every eye turning as the new guy in town put in his ten cents’ worth to a problem that clearly wasn’t his.

‘Because I intend to ask her to dance.’

It was an unfortunate moment to drop the pile of notes Clara had been precariously balancing.

Unfortunate, because from the look that flashed between Ross and Shelly they clearly thought Timothy’s rather vocal intentions had caused her lapse in concentration.

Unfortunate, because Shelly, an eternal romantic at the best of times, would be for ever on her case now about the gorgeous new doctor and why didn’t she make a bit of effort with him.

And unfortunate, because there was nothing dignified about scrabbling on the floor, trying to pick up endless reams of blood results and ECG printouts scattered over a seemingly ten-mile radius, with a heart that was bleeding inside.

Kell was going to propose.

It was like an awful mantra resounding in her head. Biting on her bottom lip to fight the sting of tears, Clara could feel her face reddening with the effort of not crying. She wished they’d all just leave her alone. Go and do whatever needed to be done on a Saturday morning and let her get on with her day.

Let her get on with her life.

A life without Kell.

‘If the Flying Doctors haven’t come by the time the balls starts, Irene can still watch him and give me a call when they get here. We’ll hear the plane coming in anyway. It will only take half an hour or so to hand over.’

‘But, Ross…’ Shelly protested.

They were all on the floor, kneeling down and pretending not to notice Clara’s red face and shaking hands.

‘No buts,’ Ross said firmly, standing up and shuffling the mass of papers into a pile that would take for ever to sort out. ‘Have you told Bill’s daughter the news?’

Clara shook her head, grateful for the change of subject. ‘I’ve been ringing all morning but I can’t get through.’

‘No doubt she’s out on the farm. It’s probably best someone tells her face to face, given that she’s pregnant and everything. I might head over now. Do you want to come, Timothy?’

‘Where do they live?’

‘Just out of town.’

Timothy gave a small grimace. ‘Which in the outback means a couple of hours’ drive. Sorry, Ross, would it be a terrible career move if I turned you down, given that I’ve just spent the last twenty-four hours bumping along in my ute to get here?’

‘Of course not.’ Ross laughed. ‘I just feel guilty, leaving you on your own on your first morning here. Shelly’s got a hairdresser’s appointment, Kell and Abby are off duty…’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Timothy said assuredly. ‘A shower and a sleep are top of my list at the moment. Still…’ those green eyes turned to Clara, who was attempting to fashion Bill’s notes into some sort of order ‘…I wouldn’t say no to a quick guided tour of the clinic, if Clara doesn’t mind. I’d hate for something to happen and not have a clue where anything’s kept.’

‘Good idea,’ Ross said enthusiastically, obviously thrilled to have Timothy on board. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Clara?’

There it was again, the automatic assumption that she’d come good. ‘You don’t mind’ was up there with ‘I hate to ask’ and Clara’s personal favourite, ‘Oh, Clara will do it’.

Well, she did mind.

Right now she wanted some peace, wanted to sort out Bill’s notes, wanted some time to gather her thoughts and figure out what on earth she was going to do, not hold yet another new doctor’s hand and show another fleeting visitor the ropes, only to have them leave again.

Of course she didn’t say as much. Instead, she nodded, her clear blue eyes briefly meeting Timothy’s. ‘Sure, I’d be happy to.’

‘Great.’

‘Sorry about this,’ Timothy ventured once they were alone. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a million and one things to do without taking me around. It’s just that I went for an interview at a bush hospital up in Queensland when I first came to Australia. I got there early, as you do for interviews, and a patient went and had a cardiac arrest while I was sitting outside the interview room.’

Clara was only half listening as she pushed open the coffee-room doors and pointed in the vague direction of the staff kitchen before heading towards the main work area. Timothy’s backpacking stories really held no interest for her.

‘Anyway, it turns out I was so early the doctor interviewing me wasn’t in the hospital yet.’

‘Really?’ Clara said distractedly, turning up the volume on Bill’s cardiac monitor before she crossed the room as Timothy hovered annoyingly over her right shoulder, watching her every move. ‘I’ll take you though to our treatment room.’

‘So there I was, going over my interview technique, the ink on my medical certificate barely dry, and this nurse came running up.’

‘Two beds,’ Clara said, pushing open the heavy back swing doors as Timothy carried on nattering. ‘This sometimes doubles as a second resuscitation area if we get a major incident…’ Her voice trailed off in mid-sentence and she turned around sharply. ‘You were the only doctor in the hospital?’

‘Barely a doctor, really.’ Timothy nodded as Clara’s mouth fell open. ‘I came to Australia as soon as I finished med school—I hadn’t even had my new cheque books delivered.’ He watched a frown pucker her freckled face. ‘One of life’s better moments.’ Timothy smiled. ‘Ringing up the bank and asking them to change the Mr to Dr. You’d be amazed how that surly voice on the other end of the phone changes when they realise your rather shaky bank balance is in for some serious improvement.’

‘But you’re too…’ Snapping her mouth closed, Clara didn’t finish her sentence, but Timothy had already got the gist.

‘Too old to be an intern?’ he finished for her with a grin. ‘I was a mature student. In fact, a student’s practically all I’ve ever been. I spent three years at uni fiddling around doing a business and finance degree, then two months out in the big wide world made me realise the family business just wasn’t for me. They’re financial planners.’ Timothy grimaced. ‘My parents get the same thrill watching the stock market that I get watching a cardiac monitor.’

Clara laughed, actually laughed. ‘Sounds as if you could use some financial planning yourself.’

But Timothy just shook his head. ‘Heaven forbid. Sure, I could ring them up and ask them to wire me some money but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.’ He gave a grim smile. ‘There’s the rest of my life to worry about mortgage payments and retirement funds. When I get back to England I’m hoping to study to become a surgeon so there’s years of being sensible ahead, but for now I intend to enjoy myself, despite my parents’ objections.’

Clara sensed the edge of his voice but chose not to push. ‘So what happened?’ She registered his frown. ‘At your interview in Queensland?’

‘Oh, that!’ Timothy grinned, his easy smile back in place now. ‘Well, this nurse comes rushing up and tells me that Mr Forbes in bed four has gone into a cardiac arrest.’

‘So what did you do?’ There was impatience to her voice, which Timothy seemed not to notice.

‘Well, for starters I asked just where bed four was, and while she was at it would she mind telling me who the hell Mr Forbes was and, perhaps more pointedly, if there was another doctor in the house.’

‘But what did you do with the patient?’ Clara pushed, genuinely enthralled now, as any nurse would have been at such a story. ‘What on earth happened?’

‘I took a crash course in crash calls.’ He laughed. ‘Thank heavens I watch ER. I was giving out orders, calling out to charge the defibrillator, massaging Mr Forbes’s chest. I even intubated him.’

‘Really?’ Clara asked, suitably impressed, but Timothy shrugged modestly.

‘I’d had a few goes in Theatre.’

‘But still,’ Clara enthused. ‘There’s a big difference between the controlled setting of Theatre with an anaesthetist over your shoulder and running your first cardiac arrest on your own. You did really well.’

‘Not that well,’ Timothy groaned. ‘The patient died.’

‘Ouch.’

‘And I didn’t get the job.’

‘But why?’ Clara protested. ‘That’s so unfair.’

‘That’s life.’ Timothy shrugged. ‘Someone smarter, with more experience, got in first.’

‘I know the feeling,’ Clara muttered.

‘Sorry?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll show you around properly, though hopefully there won’t be any repeats.’ They walked around the theatre, Clara pointing things out, flicking machines on and off and taking Timothy through the resuscitation trolley, even surprising herself by pursuing a conversation with him.

‘So, which hospital did you end up in?’

‘Adelaide.’

‘But that’s the other end of the country,’ Clara pointed out.

‘And I took my time getting there, let me tell you.’

‘Maybe later.’ Clara grinned. ‘I do actually have some work to do.’

‘Sorry, I tend to go on a bit, but despite my poverty I’ve just about saved up enough money to head back to Queensland when I’m finished here and do the next level diving course.’

‘You’ve already done one?’

‘Two,’ Timothy replied. ‘It was amazing. You should see some of the photos I’ve taken of the barrier reef—I’ll show you some time. Have you been there?’

Clara shook her head. ‘I haven’t been anywhere. Apart from three years in Adelaide to study nursing, I’ve never been away from here. It sounds wonderful, though. I’ve heard it’s stunning.’

‘Oh, it is and nothing beats seeing it at first hand. Our diving instructor gave us some food to take down. The fish actually come and feed out of your hands—I even saw a shark not six feet away.’

‘Don’t,’ Clara yelped. ‘I’d die.’

‘I nearly did,’ Timothy responded, his eyes widening in fear just at the memory. ‘Apparently if you ignore them they’ll ignore you, but I must have used up half my air tank I was hyperventilating so much. You should do it some day, take off and backpack around this amazing land. It’s been the best year of my life.’

‘I’d love to,’ Clara admitted, ‘but I can’t see it happening. I can barely get a night off to go to the ball. Can you imagine Ross and Shelly if I asked for a whole year?’

‘Don’t ask.’ Timothy shrugged. ‘Just do it.’

‘Easier said than done.’ Looking up, she realised Timothy was waiting for her to elaborate. ‘The clinic used to be tiny, just one room and one theatre, when I started. But since Ross and Shelly came last year it’s really grown. Ross is totally committed to the place, he’s for ever lobbying for more staff and more funds and for the most part it’s worked. The closed-off area is yet another extension and when that’s completed we’re going to be upgraded from a clinic to a bush hospital. There’s going to be two wards and a proper delivery suite, which will be great, of course, but the trouble is the staff ratio hasn’t exactly kept up with the patients so far. Kell and I do most of it between us, Shelly pitches in when she can, but she’s got a new baby and a three-year-old to take care of. She wants to be at home with her babies and, frankly, I don’t blame her. Matthew, her three-year-old, has got Down’s syndrome,’ Clara explained, but Timothy just nodded.