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A Mother To Make A Family
Emily Forbes


A fresh start in the Outback…When Dr Mitch Reynolds lost his wife he blamed himself and turned his back on medicine. He keeps his three children close but the world at a distance. But then Rose Anderson walks into his life…Teacher Rose always dreamt of falling in love but an illness left her scarred and now her dreams feel further away than ever. Yet helping Mitch’s little family become whole again gives her the chance to belong and the prospect of being loved…just as she is.







A fresh start in the outback...

When Dr. Mitch Reynolds lost his wife, he blamed himself and turned his back on medicine. He keeps his three children close but the world at a distance. But then Rose Anderson walks into his life...

Teacher Rose always dreamed of falling in love, but after an illness left her scarred, her dreams feel further away than ever. Yet helping Mitch’s little family become whole again gives her the chance to belong and the prospect of being loved...just as she is.


Dear Reader (#ulink_39fbec90-4864-5377-89d8-0e9638b52552),

I’m so pleased to finally give you Rose’s story—the third in my Tempted & Tamed miniseries. Many of you wrote to me after reading the first two books asking me to write Rose’s story. It was always my intention to do that, although it has taken a little longer than I planned! But I think it’s worked out well. Rose had plenty of obstacles to overcome, she needed some time before she was ready to fall in love. I also needed time to find her the perfect man, and I hope I have done that with Mitch.

Rose is the youngest of the three Anderson sisters—Scarlett, Ruby and Rose—and the last one to find her happily-ever-after. If you missed the first two books, you can read about Scarlett and Ruby in A Doctor by Day... and Tamed by the Renegade.

If you have a chance to read all three books, I’d love to know if you’ve enjoyed them—and did you have a favorite? Drop me a line at emilyforbes@internode.on.net.

Until then,

happy reading,

Emily


A Mother to Make a Family

Emily Forbes






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Books by Emily Forbes

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

The Christmas Swap

Waking Up to Dr Gorgeous

The Hollywood Hills Clinic

Falling for the Single Dad

Tempted & Tamed

A Doctor by Day...

Tamed by the Renegade

His Little Christmas Miracle

A Love Against All Odds

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.


For everyone who asked me for Rose’s story; thank you for your patience and I really hope you enjoy this,

Emily


Praise for Emily Forbes (#ulink_9db9ff17-6825-5943-8d90-58c5149c8ff5)

‘Have your tissues ready because you are gonna need them...it’s that good! Prepare to be hooked on Medical Romance and Emily Forbes!’

—Goodreads on A Love Against All Odds


Contents

Cover (#uf4f1d9bc-c103-5bb4-8c6a-6c5dd2469942)

Back Cover Text (#u5a022cc3-ba15-58fc-b934-8393be360e83)

Dear Reader (#ulink_b7a646a0-5f84-5dfa-ad19-d8903cfce221)

Title Page (#u62230d80-b8ff-5135-922e-5562d535e734)

Booklist (#u1472e647-277b-5341-a134-d10924f6cc6d)

Dedication (#uc404d0b2-54c2-58bf-9262-318938cc4ff4)

Praise (#ulink_2916b679-7825-5cb8-9663-3c45c7b9b2f2)

CHAPTER ONE (#u30b67859-ff13-5c00-ae7d-2e46510f1abc)

CHAPTER TWO (#u3db47162-abd8-55f2-93a5-72dc6a2eb958)

CHAPTER THREE (#uc30cc6f0-7e0d-5287-bffc-ee20c95cfec8)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b6fa189d-0177-5e54-94d1-6995fa2971ed)

A SCREAM SPLIT the air, cleaving through the thick muggy silence that suffocated the land.

Mitch recognised the sound and it sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose up and the wrench fell from his hand as he sprinted from the shed.

He was halfway to the horse yards before the scream ended and the silence that followed stabbed at his heart. He’d never known silence to be so terrifying. It was ominous. After thirty-nine years he knew trouble when he heard it.

The sound of his boots as they slapped the dirt echoed across the ground and the pounding of his feet imitated the pounding of his heart, which had lodged somewhere in his throat. He listened for more noise, another sound, anything, as he ran. Anything would be better than the oppressive silence.

Time stood still. Red dust flew from under his boots but it might as well have been quicksand. The horse yards weren’t getting any closer.

He rounded the corner of the staff quarters and almost collided with his six-year-old son.

‘Dad, Dad, come quick! It’s Lila.’ Jed grabbed Mitch’s hand but Mitch didn’t slow his pace and his hand pulled out of his son’s grasp. He still didn’t stop. He’d make better time alone. He kept running, knowing Jed would follow.

He had to get to Lila. He had to get to his daughter.

He skidded into the horse yards and felt Jed come to a stop beside him. He scanned the enclosures, searching for his two other children.

Charlie was standing still. He was holding Ruff, their Australian terrier, in his arms. The little dog was squirming and wriggling, desperate to get down. Ruff wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the horse yards but Mitch didn’t have time to think about that now.

His daughter lay flat on her back on the hard, red ground. Her face was ashen and she lay as still as a corpse, her eyes open. His heart was lodged firmly in his throat now and he fought to breathe. The air was thick and muggy, choking him as he tried to force it into his lungs. He’d already lost one daughter. He couldn’t lose Lila too. His children were all he had left.

And then he saw her chest move. Rising and falling as she breathed.

She was alive.

The lump in his throat dislodged and he sucked in a breath.

Ginny was kneeling over her and Mitch crouched in the dirt beside her.

‘Lila!’

He wanted to gather her into his arms, to pick her up and carry her away, but he didn’t dare move her. He knew it wasn’t safe.

His daughter’s lips were parted, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face. They brimmed with tears and her bottom lip wobbled.

‘It hurts.’

Mitch could hear the catch in her voice and it was almost more than he could bear. ‘Where?’

‘My back.’

Shit.

‘You haven’t moved her, have you?’ he asked Ginny. He hadn’t acknowledged the governess until now. He’d been far too intent on Lila.

‘No.’ Ginny shook her head. ‘She landed like this.’

The ground was as hard as concrete. They’d had no rain in this distant corner of Queensland for three years, even the river was dry. The station was relying on water from the artesian basin for the cattle, there was nothing spare to soften the ground or water the gardens. Who knew what injuries Lila might have sustained? What damage had been done?

Mitch slipped his fingers into Lila’s palm. ‘Can you squeeze my hand?’

He relaxed ever so slightly as he felt the reassuring squeeze.

‘Don’t move your legs,’ he told her, ‘but see if you can wriggle your toes.’

Lila was wearing elastic-sided riding boots. He couldn’t see if she was moving her toes but she winced.

‘Could you do it?’ he asked.

‘Yes. But it hurt.’

That was a good sign, Mitch thought. Not that he wanted his daughter to be in pain but pain was often absent in serious spinal injuries. ‘I know, sweetie, you’re being very brave.’

Tears spilled from Lila’s lashes onto her cheeks.

Mitch wiped the tears from her face. ‘It’ll be all right, Lila.’

He turned and spoke to Ginny. ‘What happened?’ It didn’t really matter what had happened, what mattered was getting some help, but he had to know. He had to make some sense of the situation.

‘Ruff got loose. He spooked Fudge and she threw Lila off,’ Ginny explained. ‘I’m sorry. It all happened so quickly, there was nothing I could do.’

Ginny sounded upset but Mitch didn’t doubt her recounting of the incident.

He glanced over to where his stockman was standing with Lila’s horse’s reins firmly in his hands. Both Jimmy and the horse were standing quietly against the railing of the yard. Jimmy was keeping the horse as far away from Charlie and the dog as he could without going out of sight. Mitch knew that Jimmy would have calmed the horse and then stayed in the vicinity in case Mitch needed him. Seeing Jimmy settled his nerves to some degree. Despite his physical disability Jimmy was the best horse handler Mitch had ever seen and he knew that something must have happened that had been out of his control. Fudge had a placid temperament normally but for some reason she hated the little dog with a passion and Ruff reciprocated her feelings and delighted in nipping at her rear hooves. Jimmy never would have let the little dog within cooee of the horse.

But Mitch didn’t have time to think about the dog or the horse and he didn’t have time for recriminations either. Ginny had been the governess on the station for the past twelve months; she was responsible and level-headed, she’d grown up on cattle stations and knew her way around horses. Mitch knew she had the best interests of his children at heart—that was why he’d hired her. Ginny was close to tears and Mitch needed her to stay composed—he needed her to look after the boys. Neither Ginny nor Jimmy would have made a deliberate error. It sounded like an accident and he wasn’t looking for anyone to blame. He knew from past experience that it made no difference to the outcome. What was done was done, and his priority now was Lila.

Thankfully she’d been wearing her helmet. Thank goodness she’d had some protection. He didn’t remove it. He couldn’t risk the movement. Not until her injuries had been assessed. He knew what to do but she needed more attention than he was able to give her and somehow, when the situation was personal, it became harder to remain objective. He didn’t want to do the wrong thing. And that was the trouble—he didn’t trust his own judgement any more. Lila needed medical attention, but they were in Outback Queensland, hundreds of kilometres and a five-hour drive from the nearest hospital.

‘Go to the house,’ he instructed Ginny. ‘Call the flying doctor on the satellite phone and bring it back to me along with the medical chest.’

She stood up and Mitch noticed that her knees were shaking, her hands too, and her face was ashen. Everyone was on edge. ‘Take the dog,’ he called after her as she hurried away. Ginny came back and took Ruff from Charlie’s arms. ‘And make sure he’s tied up.’

He turned back to his daughter. ‘Do you know what day it is, Lila?’ he asked.

‘Wednesday,’ she replied, and Mitch breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Do you know what happened?’

‘I came off Fudge.’

As far as assessments for concussion went it was as basic as they came but hearing the correct responses was a positive sign. Her eyes were open, she wasn’t confused and she could move independently even if it hurt. Fourteen points out of a possible fifteen on the Glasgow coma scale, Mitch thought automatically, although that was only part of the story.

He sat in the dirt and held Lila’s hand as he waited for Ginny to return. Waiting was the hardest thing. He was useless until he had the medical chest and even that wouldn’t be enough. He was pretty certain that Lila had sustained fractures and there was the risk that she had also suffered internal injuries but he didn’t want to start an assessment. He didn’t want to be the one to cause her pain. He’d wait for the medical chest, at least then he’d be able to check her blood pressure and get a bit of an indication as to what they were dealing with but he was convinced she would have to be evacuated. They needed the flying doctor.

He kept talking. Soft, nothing words, just sounds really, letting her know he was there, that he wasn’t going to leave her.

Her eyes fluttered closed and he fought back another wave of panic while he reminded himself that she didn’t seem concussed. She seemed alert enough, even if she was in pain.

‘Is she going to be okay, Dad?’

Jed stood beside him and Mitch noticed that he had his arm wrapped around his little brother, comforting him. Mitch should be doing that but he found himself stretched to the limit, as had been the case so often in the past two years. There just wasn’t enough of him to go around.

‘She’ll be fine,’ he replied. He had no other answer. He didn’t want to lie but he had to believe she would be okay. He had to believe his own words.

‘You can fix her, can’t you, Dad?’

‘I’m going to need some help, Jed, but the flying doctor will be here soon. Why don’t you and Charlie go down to the kitchen for smoko?’

He hadn’t heard the bell but it must be nearly time for morning tea. The station staff would all converge on the kitchen and a drink and a piece of cake would keep the boys occupied.

Ginny returned on one of the quad bikes. She had the medical chest strapped to the back of the bike and a blanket thrown over her lap. She carried the medical chest over and put it down beside Mitch before draping the blanket over Lila. Mitch hadn’t thought of the blanket, the temperature was nudging thirty-four degrees Celsius, but if Lila went into shock he might need it.

‘The plane is on its way and the base is holding for you,’ Ginny said as she handed him the satellite phone.

Mitch knew that depending on where the plane was coming from it could take an hour to reach them. He took the phone as he instructed Ginny to get his head stockman and pilot to prepare the runway for the plane.

He spoke to the doctor at the Broken Hill base and relayed the information he had while he opened the medical chest and found the few things he needed. He checked her blood pressure, kept her warm and gave her some pain relief and then he waited.

And waited.

Time stood still as his daughter lay in the dirt, in pain.

Lila looked so like her mother that Mitch’s heart ached every time he looked at her. Dark hair, dark eyes. All three of the children had his dark eyes but the boys were much more like him. They had the same white blond hair he’d had as a child. His hair had darkened with age and had even gone a little grey with stress.

He’d been trying his best not to let his feelings show over the past two years. He didn’t want the children to grow up sensing his pain. His loss. It was their loss too but he knew they felt it differently. They were so young, so much more resilient than he felt, but he’d vowed to do his best by them.

He’d become very good at disguising his feelings, an expert at pretending everything was okay. But he didn’t know if he had the strength to get through another tragedy. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did he’d have to find the reserves somewhere. The children were all he had and he was all they had.

He knew he had to keep his composure, had to stay calm, and he was grateful that no one else had been injured. He’d seen more than his fair share of injuries, and even a couple of fatalities, from accidents with horses. But being around horses was a way of life on the station and Mitch knew it was important that the children were familiar with them. Of course, he’d always insisted that they wear helmets when they were riding and fortunately that was a rule they’d never broken. Lila’s accident could have been much worse; it wasn’t as bad as it got but it was close.

In the distance he heard the sound of an engine. The familiar whine of the flying doctor plane. It was coming from the west and he looked at the sky, searching for a flash of silver and white. There. The plane was silhouetted against the endless, clear blue sky. He watched as it dropped lower, heading for the dirt landing strip behind the outbuildings, and waited again for the doc.

Darren, the head stockman, pulled up in a dusty four-wheel-drive and the doc and the flight nurse piled out. He recognised Doc Burton. Mitch reckoned he’d worked with all of the doctors over the years. He nodded in acknowledgement and then relayed what he knew of the events, what he’d given Lila for pain relief, and her medical history and then he stepped aside to let them examine his daughter. He wasn’t one of them any more, he was just Lila’s father.

Lila was alert and talking as they checked her pupils, got her to move her fingers and toes and gradually worked their way up her limbs. She seemed to be able to move her upper limbs reasonably comfortably but her legs were a different story. Doc Burton gently palpated Lila’s neck before removing her helmet. He moved to her abdomen as the nurse retested her blood pressure.

Lila cried out in pain as the doc pressed on her pelvis and Mitch had to restrain himself from leaping in and stopping the examination right there. He couldn’t stand to see Lila in more pain.

‘Temp thirty-six point two degrees, pulse one hundred, respirations twenty-two, BP ninety on sixty, oxygen ninety-eight percent.’ The flight nurse relayed Lila’s vital statistics.

‘Can you run five hundred millilitres of normal saline and draw up five milligrams of morphine? I want to give her a shot before we move her.’ The doc finished speaking to the nurse before turning to Mitch.

‘I agree with you,’ he said, ‘there’s no apparent head injury and her spine seems okay but it looks like she has a fractured pelvis so we’ll need to take her with us to the base.’ Back to Broken Hill, to the hospital. ‘I don’t think she has major internal injuries, her observations are quite reasonable, which suggests that there’s no excessive internal bleeding but I won’t really know until we get her to Broken Hill for scans. She may need to go to Adelaide but you know the drill.’

The doc took the syringe from the nurse and injected the morphine into Lila’s abdomen. ‘This will sting a little, Lila, but it will work fast to take the pain away,’ he told her.

Mitch knew the drill all too well. Doc Burton would take away the pain and then he’d take Lila. Mitch had known that would be the case. He’d known her injuries were too severe to be treated out here. He’d known she would need to go to hospital and he would follow. He hadn’t set foot in a hospital for two years but that was all about to change. He’d known the day would come when he’d have to face up to the past and that day was now. He would have to cope, for Lila’s sake.

He picked up Lila’s hand, holding it, not sure whether he was comforting her or himself.

‘All right, we need to get her in the plane.’ Doc Burton looked at Mitch and Mitch knew his face would be pale under his tan. ‘You’re coming?’

Mitch nodded as the doc and the flight nurse wrapped a brace around Lila’s pelvis and rolled her onto a spinal board. He’d managed to avoid the hospital for two years but deep down he’d wondered what it would take to get him back there. Now he knew. This was it.

Mitch looked at the length of the stretcher and then at the four-by-four utility parked nearby. The ground was dry, hard and corrugated, he didn’t want to drive Lila over it to the airstrip.

‘Can we carry her back to the plane?’ he suggested. ‘Three of us should manage it easy.’

Jimmy had taken the horse back to the stables, leaving just the three men and the flight nurse. Mitch put himself at the foot of the stretcher where he could keep an eye on his daughter. Doc Burton and Darren took one side each at the head and the flight nurse loaded the equipment back into the four-by-four and drove it back to the airstrip. The boys came running from the kitchen as the procession headed to the runway. Charlie tagged at Jed’s heels, doing his best to keep up with his older brother.

Ginny fell into step beside Mitch. ‘You’re going with her.’ Her words weren’t a question. He nodded and Ginny took the boys’ hands as they reached the airstrip, keeping them under control, one on each side of her. Thank goodness he had Ginny to help out. But not for much longer. Ginny was leaving soon, heading off to travel the world with her boyfriend. Mitch needed to do something about finding a replacement but that was a problem for another day. He had enough to worry about for the time being.

Once Lila was loaded onto the plane Mitch bent and kissed the tops of his sons’ heads. ‘Ginny will look after you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘Lila too?’ Charlie asked. He adored his sister and followed her around constantly. The boys would be lost without Lila. So would he. He couldn’t imagine losing all the women in his family.

‘Lila too,’ Mitch replied, hoping he could keep his promise.

Shirley, the cook, had appeared from the kitchen and she pressed a paper bag into his hands. He knew the bag would contain food and although he couldn’t imagine that he’d feel like eating he took the bag anyway, he knew it was her way of coping. He climbed into the plane, choosing a seat from where he could keep watch.

Lila was drowsy now, the pain relief was working, and as the engines started up her eyelids fluttered and closed.

Through the window Mitch watched the station fall away as the pilot lifted the plane into the air. Red dirt, chestnut cattle, the dry, stony creek, grey-green trees and the silver, corrugated-tin roofs of the buildings that glinted in the sunlight. He looked down onto Jed and Charlie as they stood at the edge of the runway and watched him leave.

He could see it all laid out before him, his entire life, and he wondered when it would get back to normal. Would it ever?

The past two years had been the most difficult of his life. How many more traumatic events could they be expected to endure?

The last time he had been in the flying doctor plane on his way to Broken Hill he’d been with his wife and unborn child.

He turned away from the window, his gaze seeking Lila. He was determined to come back with his daughter. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning alone again.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_ba2f9d0c-c1e4-5b59-af4a-1ff67a9db0af)

ROSE’S RIGHT FOOT ACHED, complaining about being crammed into uncomfortable shoes. She should have worn socks, she thought, something that would cushion her misshapen foot from the unforgiving canvas of her sneakers, but socks had looked ugly so she’d gone without and now she was paying the price for her vanity.

She had to wear closed-toe shoes for work but she wished she could wear ballet flats, something prettier than canvas sneakers. Work dress rules allowed ballet flats but she couldn’t wear them any more. They wouldn’t stay on.

Rose undid the laces and slipped her shoe off. She hated these shoes, hated the fact that she couldn’t wear anything pretty any more. She hadn’t minded these shoes on occasion before, but having to wear them, or something similar, every day had certainly taken the gloss off. She was sick of the sight of them. And the feel.

Once upon a time appearances had been so important to her but she was having to adjust her thinking on that. She was having to adjust her thinking on a lot of things.

Gone were the days of wearing her towering, strappy, glamorous shoes. She was prepared to admit that by the end of an evening out she had always been glad to remove them, they hadn’t necessarily been made for comfort but they had been pretty. Now she had traded impractical, pretty and uncomfortable shoes for practical, ugly and uncomfortable. If she had to sacrifice comfort she wished she could at least look pretty.

Winter would be better, she thought. She could get a pair of flat boots. She’d tried wearing ankle boots but even in the air-conditioned hospital rooms her foot had got too hot and it had swelled up and ached even more.

She rubbed her foot on the back of her left calf, trying to get her circulation going. She knew she was supposed to be desensitising her foot by rubbing it regularly with different textures but she hated even looking at it let alone touching it. How ridiculous that toes that didn’t exist any more could give her so much trouble.

She knew that her toes had had to be amputated. She knew there hadn’t been a choice but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

And now she knew all about phantom limb pain. Thank goodness she wasn’t missing an entire limb; she could only imagine how painful that would be.

She needed to remember to be grateful. Her psychologist had told her to keep a list of all the things she was grateful for and to recall it when she was feeling maudlin. She started to run through the list in her head as she continued to rub her foot.

She was alive. That was a big one. A good one to start the list.

From the outside she looked the same but Rose knew that looks could be deceptive. She was different on the inside and underneath, but she didn’t have to show those parts of her to anyone. She could keep that hidden, which was exactly what she intended to do.

Two—she had finished her degree and was now a qualified teacher. But that was as far as she got running through her ‘grateful’ list before the door into the office she shared with two other teachers opened and her manager walked in. Rose quickly tucked her right foot under her desk, hiding it from view, and slid it into her sneaker.

Jayne was a tall woman, her grey hair closely cropped to her head, her frame athletic, a little masculine. She was hard muscle from all the running she did and there was nothing left to soften the edges. Rose hadn’t known her long but she seemed to be constantly on the go, always training for a running event, a half-marathon or marathon. That was something else Rose wasn’t able to do—run. She’d never imagined that losing three small toes would make such an impact. Her doctors had told her she would be able to run again but she wasn’t sure about that yet.

‘Rose, do you have time to see one more patient before you finish for the weekend?’ Jayne asked.

Rose closed the browser on her laptop as she replied. ‘Sure.’ Despite the fact it was Friday night she had nothing she needed to rush home for. That wasn’t unusual; her social life had taken a battering—spending months in hospital tended to do that—and her confidence had also suffered. She hadn’t dated for two years and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that to change. She had nothing in her life except for work, her mother, her sisters and her niece. But that was okay. That was enough to handle at the moment.

‘The patient’s name is Lila Reynolds, she’s eight years old. Her parents haven’t requested educational support but the social worker is advocating for it. She says Lila is very withdrawn. She’s from Outback Queensland and doesn’t have any family support here in Adelaide.’

Rose remembered being eight years old. That was the year her father had died. The year she had gone from being his little princess and thinking the world was perfect to realising that it wasn’t and that just because you wished something was so didn’t make it real. It was one of life’s lessons that she was relearning again at the age of twenty-three.

‘No one?’ she asked.

Jayne shook her head. ‘The social worker has been leaving messages for her parents but is yet to speak to them. There’s no file yet.’

Rose knew the files were often not much help anyway. The file the education system, and therefore the teaching staff, had access to was different from the case notes that the hospital staff—doctors, nurses, social workers, physios and the like—wrote in. The teachers weren’t privy to all the private and sometimes confidential information about their young pupils but were given just the basic facts. Age, gender, and medical diagnosis were shared but only so that the teachers were aware of any impediments that would affect their learning. They were often given just enough information to put the children into the system but not enough to be useful—Rose could remember one of the other teachers telling her that when she’d first started this job.

‘The social worker thinks it might be helpful to have one of us spend some time with Lila unofficially while she continues trying to speak to the parents,’ Jayne said. ‘She thought that if you had time you might have more luck with getting her to talk.’

In the six months since Rose had started working at the Royal Children’s Hospital she knew she had garnered a reputation as someone who had a good rapport with the more reserved children. She’d always felt a connection with the quieter kids. She could empathise with their emotional scars and now, from more recent experience, with their physical scars as well.

‘And if that doesn’t work,’ Jayne continued, ‘then the consensus is that if you can give her something to occupy her time then she might at least get some benefit from that.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Rose replied. ‘What are her injuries?’

‘She was thrown from a horse and sustained pelvic fractures. She was transferred from Broken Hill to Adelaide and underwent surgery a week ago. Her pelvis was pinned but she is able to get out of bed and can now move around with the aid of a walking frame.’

‘Okay.’

Rose stood as Jayne left the office. She reached up and ran her fingers along the spines of her selection of books that she’d stored on the shelves. Since starting this job she’d added to her collection of children’s books and she chose a few now that she thought might be of interest to an eight-year-old. If Lila didn’t want to talk perhaps Rose could read to her. If Lila had been rushed to Adelaide for emergency surgery she probably hadn’t brought much with her. Reading might help to pass the time and also might prompt a conversation. It had worked in the past.

Rose tucked the well-worn volumes under her arm. She loved shopping in markets and second-hand stores, something her sister Ruby had fostered in her, but while Ruby had always bought clothes, Rose had spent her time searching through the old books. Scarlett, her eldest sister, had started reading to her after her dad had died. Escaping into a book had helped her to get over her grief but it had also fed her imagination. She liked drama, tales of princesses, weddings, romance and young love. She wished the real world was more like her literary world. She didn’t choose to read stories about war or crime or misery. She chose books where the characters got to live happily ever after.

She tugged on the back of her right sneaker, pulling it up over her heel to secure the shoe. God, she hated these shoes. If anything, her foot was even more uncomfortable now than before. She had thought these shoes would be okay but by the end of the day her feet ached and in reality these shoes probably didn’t have enough support. She didn’t think she was on her feet a lot but the hospital was big and there was a fair bit of walking just to get from the main entrance to the wards and to the classrooms. Which was good for her fitness but not so good for her feet.

The familiar smell of the hospital ward assailed her as she stepped out of the elevator by the orthopaedic wards. She didn’t spend a lot of time on the wards, most of her time was spent in the classrooms, but the distinctive smell of the hospital was hard to ignore and hard to forget. She thought it was lodged in her subconscious, a lingering and not altogether pleasant after-effect of her time spent in ICU and the transplant ward.

* * *

She checked in with the charge nurse before heading into the four-bed ward to find Lila. Only two beds were occupied. It was mid-afternoon and Rose knew the ward had probably been full this morning but paediatric patients got discharged quickly and regularly, especially in the orthopaedic wards. There was a high turnover when patients could be sent home to be cared for by their parents.

Rose suspected that Lila would be in hospital for some time. It would be difficult to discharge her home to Outback Queensland if she needed rehabilitation for her injuries. Rose had learnt a lot in the past six months about a whole host of medical conditions. In fact, she’d learnt a lot in the eighteen months prior to that too but that had all been to do with her own experience.

A girl of about five years of age was in a bed to Rose’s left and on the opposite side of the room, next to the window lay a girl who looked more likely to be Lila. Rose scanned the patient names above each bed just to be sure before she crossed the room.

‘Lila?’ she asked as she stopped beside the bed. She was a dark-haired, solemn-eyed little girl. Her skin was tanned and appeared healthy and brown against the white hospital sheets. She was thin but apart from that she looked too healthy for a hospital ward.

The little girl nodded.

‘My name is Rose. I’ve brought you some books to pass the time. Do you like to read?’

Lila shook her head.

‘Oh.’ Rose put the books on the bedside cupboard but she refused to be deterred.

‘What do you like to do?’

‘Ride my horse.’ There was no elaboration but at least she was talking.

‘What about when it’s raining?’

‘It never rains.’

‘Never?’

Her question was answered with another silent shake of her head.

‘Oka-a-a-y...’ Rose drew out the word as she thought about what to ask next. ‘What about if it’s too hot to go outside?’

‘Then I like to draw.’

‘What do you draw?’ Rose asked as she looked around, expecting to see some drawings taped to the walls, but the walls were bare. ‘Have you got any drawings?’

Lila nodded.

‘Would you show me?’ Rose asked.

Lila pulled a piece of paper from the bedside drawer and held it up. ‘It’s not very good ’cos I don’t have any pencils.’

The paper was lined, Rose recognised it from the hospital case notes, but on it Lila had drawn a fabulous picture of a horse.

‘Is this your horse?’ Rose asked.

Lila nodded.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Fudge.’

‘That’s an interesting name.’

‘She’s the same colour as caramel fudge,’ Lila explained, ‘but it’s hard to tell ’cos the nurses could only find a lead pencil.’

‘Well, I think she’s beautiful.’

Rose noticed that Lila’s voice became a little more animated when she was talking about her horse. Maybe that was the secret to getting her to engage. But wasn’t that the same with all children? You just needed to find something that they were interested in. Rose knew that if you did that it was often hard to stop them from sharing.

‘Does she smell like caramel?’

‘That’s silly.’ Lila couldn’t hide her smile. ‘Horses don’t smell like caramel.’

‘Well, what does she smell like?’

‘She smells like a horse.’ Lila giggled and her dark eyes sparkled, losing their serious intensity. She looked like an eight-year-old girl now and Rose had a moment of self-satisfaction that she’d been able to make this little girl laugh. That she had been able to make a connection, however small, gave her a sense of achievement. This was what she loved about teaching, establishing a connection with the children.

Lila’s giggles continued and Rose knew she was intrigued, but before she could say anything further she became aware of someone on the periphery of her vision. Someone else waiting and watching as she listened to Lila’s laughter. She looked up to find a man standing in the doorway of the ward.

Possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

Tall, dark and handsome.

Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered who he was. A doctor she hadn’t met yet? An orthopaedic surgeon? She was certain she’d never seen him before—his was not a face she would forget.

Rose ran her eyes over him. He would be a shade over six feet tall with a slim build but his shoulders and chest were broad, his arms were strong and muscular and his legs were long. He was casually dressed in jeans and a navy T-shirt, not the normal doctor-on-staff outfit—no white surgical coat, no tell-tale stethoscope—but Rose noted these things almost subconsciously as her gaze remained locked on his face. His very handsome face. It was tanned and he had a full head of thick, brown hair, cut short, with dark brown eyes to match. His jaw was triangular, darkened by a shadow of stubble, and he had a slight smile on his lips.

She bent her knees and her thighs tensed, ready to push her out of her chair, ready to cross the room and introduce herself to a handsome stranger. It was a reflex response, a reaction completely outside her conscious control, but before she could actually complete the movement the rest of her brain woke up and she realised what she was doing. She relaxed back into her seat, barely managing to rescue herself from complete embarrassment, and took some comfort in the thought that he hadn’t noticed that she’d been about to stand as his attention was focussed on Lila.

The drive to go to him had been strong and the attraction she felt was primal, carnal and, while the result might have been pure embarrassment, it pleased her that she could still experience these feelings. That she still had the desire. The want and the need.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such an immediate attraction to a man. She hadn’t been remotely interested in men or relationships for the past two years yet somehow, with just one look, she knew she would change her mind for this man.

Who was he?

She checked for a hospital ID lanyard hanging around his neck but there was nothing. If he wasn’t a doctor, who was he? Should he even be in the hospital?

He stepped into the room and crossed the floor, and Rose held her breath.

She was vaguely aware that Lila’s giggles had stopped and out of the corner of her eye she saw Lila turn her head as she noticed the man’s movements.

‘Daddy!’

This was Lila’s father?

He reached his daughter’s bed and bent over, kissing her on the forehead. ‘Hello, princess.’

Princess. Rose’s father used to call her that. But she forgot all about her father as this man straightened up and looked at her.

Her breath caught in her throat, stuck behind a lump that had lodged there.

Now that father and daughter were side by side Rose noticed that they had the same eyes. Dark and serious. His chocolate eyes were intense, probing and forceful and she felt as if he could see right into her soul.

* * *

Mitch straightened up and looked again at the woman who sat by his daughter’s bed. He’d noticed her as soon as he’d stepped into the room. He’d heard his daughter giggling, a sound he didn’t hear enough of, but he’d been distracted by the woman sitting beside Lila’s bed. She was not the type to go unnoticed.

He thought he’d imagined her at first. She didn’t look real. Her face was round and serene, perfectly symmetrical. Her green eyes were enormous and iridescent. Her mouth was wide and her nose small. She looked like a woman from a Renaissance painting. Maybe that Botticelli one, the one of the young Madonna with the baby Jesus and the two angels. The light from the window bounced off her golden hair, making it shine like spun silk and making him forget that he hated hospitals, making him forget that he wished he and Lila were a thousand miles away. She was absolutely beautiful, but he had no idea who she was or why she was by his daughter’s bedside.

She was watching him now, staring, silent, frozen like a deer in a spotlight. There was something fawn-like about her. Innocent. Young. Maybe it was her huge, luminous eyes.

Who was she?

She wasn’t a nurse. She had a hospital ID badge hanging around her neck but she wasn’t wearing a uniform and unless things had changed considerably since his last foray into a hospital he was pretty certain nurses didn’t have time to sit idly at patients’ bedsides. Unless the patient was critically ill, which he knew Lila wasn’t.

A feeling akin to dread flooded through him as it occurred to him who she might be. ‘Are you from social work?’ he asked. The social worker had left several messages for him on the station answering machine but by the time he got in at the end of the day it was well past office hours and too late to call back. He knew he could have returned to the house during the day to make a call but he’d been nervous. Worried about what the social worker might want. Worried she might want to talk about what had happened two years ago. That she might want to talk about Cara. He had refused counselling before and had no qualms about doing it again. They didn’t need it. They were all fine.

‘I meant to call you back,’ he fibbed.

She was frowning. A little crease had appeared between her green eyes, marring the perfect smoothness of her brow.

‘I’m not a social worker,’ she replied.

Mitch relaxed; expelling the breath of air he hadn’t even been aware of holding.

‘I’m Rose,’ she continued. ‘I’m just here to keep Lila company.’ She stood up. Her hair fell past her shoulders and she lifted her hands and gathered it all, twisting it into a long rope and bringing it forward to fall over one shoulder.

Now it was his turn to stare. Her movements were fluid and effortless. She’d obviously done this a thousand times before but to Mitch it was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen and he was transfixed.

‘But now that you’re here, I’ll get going,’ she said, and before he could find another word to say she had stepped past Lila’s bed and was on her way out of the ward.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching her go and his eyes followed her out of the room.

She was slim but under her dark trousers he could see the two, full, round globes of her buttocks. They bewitched him as she stepped out of the room. She wore a soft white top that floated around her torso and reinforced his first impression of her as a golden angel.

Or maybe a golden rose.

Rose who? he wondered. She had left without a decent explanation of who she was and why she was there.

She was young and pretty and her name was Rose. That didn’t seem like enough information. He wanted more. But just thinking about her made him feel old. He couldn’t remember ever feeling young. He felt like he’d always been old. He knew he’d only felt that way since he’d lost his wife but he struggled to remember how he’d felt before. So now it felt as if he’d been born old.

His life was defined by before Cara died and after Cara died. But the more time that passed the harder it was to remember the before. He was so busy running the station and trying to figure out how to be a single father that he never seemed to have time to stop and sit and remember her. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow at night and up at dawn and he didn’t stop all day.

If he had time to stop he might realise he was lonely but this was not something he noticed on a day-to-day basis. He had got used to life on the station and the absence of his regular weekly trips into Broken Hill and he only noticed his loneliness when he visited the city. At the cattle station, despite its isolation, he was surrounded by people who knew him; some of the staff had worked for him for close to ten years. But in the city no one knew him and he knew no one. He could go all day without talking to a soul. Despite the fact that there were hundreds of people around him in the city he was alone with too much time on his hands.

He didn’t enjoy the city but he was going to have to keep returning until he could take Lila home. Maybe he should make an effort to make some connections with people. Talk to people, to complete strangers. In the country he wouldn’t hesitate but city people were different. He’d been one of them once but now he just felt disconnected. They seemed busier, more caught up in their own lives, existing close together but without any meaningful interaction. He was so used to sharing his day, his life, with his workforce. At least until dinner was finished but after that he put his children to bed and was now in the habit of spending his nights doing the bookwork before going to bed alone. It was becoming a sad existence. A self-perpetuating cycle.

His mind drifted back to Rose. Thinking about her was a pleasant distraction from the dozens of other things that had been occupying his mind of late. It had been a long time since a pretty woman had caught his eye. It wasn’t as if he met a lot of new women in Outback Australia and he’d just about given up noticing. He was tired and jaded, so it was a pleasant change to notice a pretty woman and he almost felt human again. But he knew he didn’t have time for anything more than an appreciative glance. His days were busy, too busy for romance.

And despite the pleasure that seeing a beautiful woman had given him, he couldn’t imagine ever falling in love again. It wasn’t worth the risk. He would have to recover as best he could and move on. Alone.

Next time he came to the city he would bring the boys with him, he decided. They wanted to see Lila, they were missing her, and now that she was on the road to recovery he knew she would like to see her little brothers too. He’d bring the boys and they would provide him with company. Then he wouldn’t need to think about young, blonde, Botticelli angels called Rose. He wouldn’t have time to wonder if he’d see her again.


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fe85259c-4bcd-5120-bd75-6b2b03c79c7c)

‘IS SHE ASLEEP?’ Rose asked as her sister walked into the kitchen.

Scarlett had been settling her daughter, Holly, for her afternoon nap while Rose had chopped what felt like a mountain of cabbage and carrot to make coleslaw. But she’d been glad to have a job to do. She was hoping it would keep her mind busy so she would have no time to think about gorgeous men with kind faces and daughters in hospital. Lila’s father had unsettled her. Her reaction to him had her on edge but she found if she kept herself occupied she could almost manage to push him to the back of her mind. Wielding a sharp knife was making sure she stayed focussed on the task at hand. She scraped the vegetables into a bowl and started tossing them together to make the salad.

‘Yes,’ Scarlett replied, ‘but she was fighting sleep every step of the way. I think she has too much of her father in her—she knows there’s a party going on and she doesn’t want to miss out!’

Rose smiled. Her brother-in-law did like a party. He’d grown up in a big family; he was the youngest of six siblings so there had always been plenty of people in the house and even now he liked to surround himself with family and friends. There was no special reason for today’s gathering but Jake never needed a reason. He loved a crowd and didn’t mind being the centre of attention. He’d worked as a stripper to put himself through medical school and Rose had heard he’d been very good at it. She had no doubt he’d loved every minute of it. Scarlett, by comparison, was happy behind the scenes. She only needed the attention of one person, her husband.

Like Jake, the old Rose had loved a party too. She’d enjoyed attention and she knew she got more than her fair share, but now that attention made her uncomfortable. Now it only made her more aware of everything that had happened to her. Aware of the contrast between the pretty Rose of her youth and the new Rose. She felt much, much older than her twenty-three years. She’d been through a lot in the past two years and had come out the other side a lot less positive about the future. She knew now that some things were out of her control and just because she had a plan it didn’t mean that life had the same one for her.

Things were different now.

Rose had been avoiding parties but Scarlett had refused to listen to any of her excuses. The only reason Rose had agreed to come to this barbecue was because Scarlett had threatened to withhold time spent with Holly if she didn’t attend. It was emotional blackmail—Scarlett knew Rose couldn’t bear to think of being separated from her niece. Holly was one of the few highlights in her life. One of the things that Rose had fought so hard for. She adored Holly and Holly adored her.

Having a family of her own was all Rose wanted. It had been all she’d wanted since she was eight years old. Her dreams had been so different from those of her two elder sisters yet now they were both married and Scarlett had a daughter. Scarlett and Ruby were living Rose’s dream and Rose couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy when she thought about it. Scarlett had professed that she was never going to have kids, she’d always intended to focus on her career, yet look at her now, Rose thought: a qualified anaesthetist and mother to the most adorable little girl.

Ruby, the middle of the three Anderson sisters, was a different kettle of fish altogether. She was nomadic, nothing remotely like Rose, who was the epitome of a homebody. Marrying Noah was the first ordinary thing Ruby had ever done, but even then she’d gone for the unusual. Not too many people were married to professional race car drivers. Ruby had always had a point of difference, whether it was her dress sense, her living arrangements or her boyfriends; no one could ever accuse her of being ordinary, whereas Rose longed for an ordinary life—a husband who adored her, perfect children and her own happily ever after.

She wanted to re-create that perfect world she used to live in. The world she’d inhabited until the age of eight. She wanted to fall in love and have her own family. She believed in true love and part of her still hoped it would happen for her. She still imagined her white knight would come and sweep her off her feet. He would give her the world and would be so blinded by love that he wouldn’t notice all her flaws.

The Anderson sisters had grown up with their own labels. Scarlett was the clever one, the career girl; Ruby was the fun one, the slightly wild and offbeat sister; Rose, not overly ambitious, had been content to be the pretty one. Until recently.

She used to be so confident, used to be able to walk into a room and know that men would look at her. She knew she was pretty and her blonde hair and big green eyes lent her an air of innocence that men couldn’t resist. But Rose didn’t feel pretty any more. She was scarred, emotionally and physically, but she hated the idea of anyone else knowing it.

She was also scared. Scared that no one would want her now.

Scarlett kept telling her to give herself time. To get back out into the world without expectations. To relax, have fun and see what happened. Her psychologist was telling her the same thing—give yourself time—but Rose wasn’t convinced that time was the great healer that everyone professed it to be.

It had been almost two years since her last relationship had ended and she didn’t feel any closer to being ready for another one. Not when she knew she would have to open herself up.

She was scared and scarred and she didn’t believe that was a combination conducive to finding love.

Scarlett held out a tray of burgers and shashliks to Rose.

‘Would you take these out to Jake for me, please?’

Rose could see her brother-in-law at the barbecue, talking to one of his friends.

‘I know what you’re doing,’ she said.

‘What?’ Scarlett replied, all wide-eyed and innocent.

‘You want me to talk to Rico.’

‘He’s a nice guy.’

‘I’m not saying he’s not, but—’

‘You’re not ready.’ Scarlett finished the sentence for Rose with her usual retort but that hadn’t been what she was about to say. ‘I’m worried about you, Rose. You need to get out there. You’d have fun with Rico. It doesn’t necessarily have to be anything more than platonic fun but at least you’d be out and about. Working and spending time with Holly isn’t enough. You’re twenty-three, have some fun.’

Rose couldn’t mount a good argument so she reached out and took the tray of barbecue meat, resigned to the fact that she would have to let Scarlett win this round. Scarlett won most rounds. She was the bossy older sister. Rose knew she did it out of love and so she gave in. It was easier that way. ‘All right,’ she sighed, ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’

She was aware of Scarlett watching her through the kitchen window as she stepped outside. She knew her big sister was worried about her. Scarlett had always mothered her. They had all suffered when Rose’s father had died suddenly and their mother just hadn’t coped with the aftermath. Scarlett, at the relatively young age of sixteen, had taken it upon herself to be the champion for her two younger sisters and that instinct had never quite left her, even though her sisters were now both adults.

Rose looked around, taking in Scarlett’s house, small but filled with love, her gorgeous husband, and a garden overflowing with their friends. Despite the fact that Scarlett was eight years older than Rose, Rose couldn’t deny that she wanted what Scarlett had. A career, a husband who adored her, and a baby. Actually, she would settle for two out of three; unlike Scarlett, she wasn’t that interested in a career. She enjoyed teaching but it was a job rather than her calling, and she didn’t have the same burning ambition about it that Scarlett had about her career as an anaesthetist.

And Rose knew exactly why Scarlett was pushing her to get outside and mingle. She had never made a secret of the fact that she dreamt of marriage and babies, certainly not to her sisters, but she wasn’t sure that she was in the right frame of mind to mix and mingle today. Although she couldn’t complain about the talent on offer. Jake’s friends were lovely, a good mix of polite, gentle, charming and good-looking; many of them, including Rico, were professional men who were also former colleagues of Jake’s from the strip club, The Coop. They took pride in their appearance without, for the most part, any vanity, and Rose was happy to appreciate the efforts they went to in order to stay fit and in good shape. But she wasn’t sure that getting involved with one of her brother-in-law’s mates was a good idea. What if things didn’t work out? Wouldn’t that be awkward?

Scarlett had insisted that Rico was a genuinely nice guy who treated women with respect. Rose knew she could do worse than go out on a date with him.

Not that he’d asked her yet, she chided herself as she crossed the paving and headed for the barbecue. She was thinking of excuses unnecessarily. Why would he be interested in her? Just because Scarlett had put the idea in her head it didn’t mean that Rico was entertaining the same notion.

* * *

‘Could I have your number?’

Rose had been chatting to Jake and Rico for several minutes when Rico asked the question. She was glad he’d waited until Jake had taken a tray of cooked hamburgers inside to Scarlett. She didn’t think she had the heart to turn him down in front of his mate but she couldn’t give him what he wanted. He was handsome in a swarthy, dark, Mediterranean way, he had a great body, hours in the gym having toned it to perfection, and he seemed genuinely nice, but there was no spark. Rose wondered if she’d ever feel that spark again. Rico was just the type of man she normally fancied, tall, dark, good looking, a few years older than her but she wasn’t interested. She hadn’t been interested in a long time.

Not quite true, she thought as she remembered a man with chocolate brown eyes, a triangular jaw and an easy smile. She might make an exception for a man like him. But that was just a silly fantasy about a complete stranger. She didn’t even know his name.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m not dating at the moment.’

She knew she had to figure out how she was going to fulfil her dream of having a family when she didn’t feel ready for a relationship. She still dreamt of finding love but in reality she was scared. She knew she couldn’t wait for ever, she didn’t want to wait for ever, but she was afraid to take that first step back into the dating game. She knew that first step would lead to others, which would lead to her having to share parts of herself, and that was the part she wasn’t ready for.

Rico looked as if he might be getting ready to plead his case and Rose tried to remember how she used to turn invitations down without appearing rude. ‘Why don’t you give me your number?’ she added. ‘And if I change my mind, I’ll call you.’

‘Sure.’

‘Great,’ she replied, pleased he wasn’t going to argue with her. ‘I’ll just grab my phone.’

She ducked inside and rummaged through her handbag. Her phone was lying in the bottom of the bag under a tin of coloured pencils she’d bought for Lila. She pulled the pencils out with the phone. She’d get Rico’s number and then she would go and see Lila. She’d had enough of the party. She knew it would only be more of the same. Talking to Jake’s friends, getting asked for her number. She made her excuses to Scarlett, promising to call back later, hoping that Jake’s friends would have left by then and she could play with Holly without interruption.

But right now there was somewhere else she’d rather be. Someone else she’d rather talk to.

* * *

He was there.

He was sitting beside Lila’s bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, watching as his daughter scrolled through what appeared to be photos on his phone.

She couldn’t deny she’d been hoping to see him but now she was ridiculously nervous. What had she expected? That she could just feast her eyes on him from a distance, hiding in the shadows without being seen herself?

That was exactly what she’d hoped. She hadn’t thought about the reality of seeing him. Of talking to him. She wasn’t ready to make scintillating conversation. She had nothing to say. She was completely out of practice.

But she couldn’t stand in the doorway for ever. She crossed the room and the movement caught his eye. He lifted his head and his chocolate eyes followed her progress. He stood up as she got closer and Rose put another tick in the box that would be beside his name if only she knew what it was. He had manners. She adored men with manners. Having someone who would open a door for her or pull out her chair at dinner and seat her first, not because he thought she was incapable, just because it was a nice thing to do, always made her go weak at the knees. She always thought it gave a little glimpse about what he would be like as a husband or a lover. A mark of consideration and kindness. A man with manners would treat a girl properly.

‘I didn’t mean to interrupt,’ she said. ‘I just brought some drawing things for Lila.’

He smiled at her and Rose’s knees wobbled as the ground tilted a little under her feet. She’d liked his smile yesterday when he’d looked at his daughter but that was nothing compared to having him smile at her. His face brightened and his brown eyes warmed and darkened like melted chocolate as he looked straight at her. ‘You’re not interrupting, Rose.’

A rush of happiness flooded through her and she could feel a faint blush stealing over her pale cheeks. He’d remembered her name!

She stopped next to Lila’s bed before realising she should have continued to the opposite side. She was standing far too close to him. Her head barely reached his shoulders. If she turned her head towards him, all she could see was the powerful breadth of his chest; if she looked down she got an eyeful of a narrow waist and long, lean legs; if she breathed in she could smell him. He smelt clean and fresh as if he’d not long been out of the shower, and his scent overrode the antiseptic smell of the hospital.

Her heart was racing, making her hands shake. She wasn’t sure why but he really unsettled her and she was unbelievably nervous. As she reached forward to pass the pencils and sketch pad to Lila the tin slid from her hands. The lid popped off as the tin hit the floor and pencils spilled around their feet.

His reaction time was faster than hers. He crouched down and gathered the pencils up as she stood there, trying to work out what had just happened. His head was level with her knees and she could look down onto the top of his head. His hair was cut short but it was thick and she had a sudden urge to reach out and thread her fingers through it. Instead, she curled them into a fist at her side.

He stood and handed her the pencils but the touch of his fingers sent a jolt of awareness through her that was so strong she almost dropped them a second time.

Maybe it had been a mistake, coming here. She was well and truly disconcerted and had lost all trace of coherent thought.

‘I can’t stay,’ she said as she finally managed to put the pencils and sketch book on the end of Lila’s bed. ‘These are for you,’ she said before she bolted for the door as fast as her disfigured feet would allow.

He followed her from the ward. She didn’t turn around but she could feel him behind her. Her whole body was tense, her nerves taut, fighting against her as she tried to walk away.

‘Wait!’

Her steps slowed of their own accord as he called to her and then he was beside her, his hand on her elbow, sending her heart crazy. She turned to face him.

‘Thank you for getting those pencils for Lila. Can I reimburse you?’

She was looking into a pair of eyes that were so dark she could see her own reflection. Her eyes were wide, startled, and she knew that he had caused that look as his touch had sent her body wild.

He was waiting for her answer. She shook her head. ‘No, I wanted to do it. I thought it would help to keep her occupied.’

‘I meant to bring her things with me, she asked me to, but with all the other hundred things I had to organise to get away I forgot. Her brothers have been acting up, they’re missing Lila and are upset with me for leaving them behind, and with all their carry-on I got completely distracted and forgot to pack Lila’s things.’ He paused to take a breath and gave her a half-smile along with a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘But you don’t want to hear about all of that.’

Oh, but she did. She wanted to know everything.

‘If you won’t let me reimburse you, can I at least buy you a coffee?’

She gathered her hair in her hand and twisted it, bringing it forward to hang over her shoulder. She toyed with the ends, something she always did when she felt out of her depth. Keeping her hands busy helped to calm her down and it worked again now, giving her just enough breathing space to be able to reply. ‘I don’t even know your name.’ As if it mattered. She already knew what her answer would be.

‘It’s Mitch. Mitch Reynolds.’

Mitch. It was perfect. The Reynolds part she had assumed but the rest of his name suited him perfectly. It was strong, straightforward and honest. He had an honest face and an honest name. He seemed like the type of man who could be trusted. He would call a spade a spade.

He put out his hand but Rose hesitated. She’d been thinking about him all night but even so her reaction to him today had surprised her. She was almost afraid to touch him again, afraid of what she would feel, afraid her body would betray her and he would be able to read on her face all the conflicting emotions that were coursing through her. Part of her wanted to see if she experienced the same sensation again but she knew she had to prepare herself first. If she was flustered she didn’t want him to see. She needed to appear in control.

Almost against her better judgement she put her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, his grip strong but not threatening, and Rose had the strangest sensation of familiarity, that her body already knew his touch. It certainly responded to it as though she’d had some knowledge, some experience, of him before.

‘So now that we’re no longer strangers, will you let me buy you a coffee? I wanted to talk to you about Lila.’

He had sounded so guilty about forgetting Lila’s things; he’d sounded like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Rose couldn’t deny she was desperate to know more. This could be her chance to find out.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She didn’t want him to guess how he affected her and she suspected her voice would be high and quavering. That was not the way to appear in control.

‘The social worker stopped by the ward after you left yesterday,’ Mitch said as he placed the cafeteria tray on the table and handed her a coffee. ‘Did you have anything to do with that?’

Rose knew that the social worker had been trying to contact Lila’s parents but she’d had nothing to do with the visit. She shook her head. ‘No. I imagine she’d left instructions with the nurses to call her when you got here.’ She took a bite of the doughnut that Mitch had insisted on buying for her and asked, ‘Who came to see you?’

‘Annabel.’

‘What did she want?’

‘She wanted to find out about Lila. Something about hospital policy for children who have no family support. Lila has family support, but I can’t be in two places at once.’

Mitch didn’t wear a wedding ring. She already knew that. She’d checked. She’d also done a little investigating yesterday after she’d left Lila’s bedside and discovered that there didn’t appear to be a Mrs Reynolds. Was that why Mitch needed to be in two places at once?

But surely Lila had a mother? She must have one. Rose wondered where she was. Wild horses wouldn’t have kept her away from her own child if they’d been hospitalised and she thought it odd that she hadn’t come to town, even if she wasn’t part of Mitch’s life any more.

If she wanted to know the answers, she would have to ask the questions. ‘What about Lila’s mother? Where is she?’

‘My wife died, there’s only me.’

‘Oh.’ That wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. Surely that was the sort of information that should have been passed on to her? But before she could say anything further, Mitch kept talking.

‘So, if you’re not part of the social work team, what is it that you do here?’

Obviously his wife, his dead wife, was not a topic that was up for discussion.

‘I’m a teacher,’ Rose replied, going with the subject change.

‘A teacher?’ Mitch queried. ‘The social worker mentioned educational support... Are you what she was talking about?’

Rose smiled. His phrasing wasn’t quite the way she would have put it. ‘Yes, but not just me. We have a school here.’

‘In the hospital?’

She nodded. ‘Children who will have long hospital stays or frequent admissions, thereby missing school, can attend classes in the hospital. It stops them from getting too far behind and also keeps them socialising. We have a lot of kids, like Lila, from the country, and being away from family can be quite isolating. I imagine Annabel thinks Lila would benefit from attending classes.’ Rose knew that was the case but she got the impression that Mitch wouldn’t want to know the staff had been discussing him. She suspected he would want to feel like the idea and the decision to enrol Lila in the hospital school was his. ‘I teach middle primary mainly.’

‘So you would teach Lila?’

Rose nodded.

‘How does it work? School of the air I’m familiar with, but that’s about it for schools out our way.’

‘We have several teachers on staff covering everything from kindergarten through to high school and we have several classrooms. If children can make it to the classrooms they attend there but we can also teach them in their beds.’

‘And Lila can join in?’

‘Yes. Any child who is going to be in hospital for longer than a couple of days or is admitted frequently can be enrolled and we work closely with their regular school to make sure what they are learning is relevant.’

‘Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?’

Rose smiled. ‘I would guess Annabel has been trying to tell you, and if you’d called her back you would know.’

‘Touché,’ he said, before taking another sip of his coffee. ‘Lila would probably enjoy being in a classroom and having other kids her age around instead of just her younger brothers. How do I organise this?’

‘You’ll have to email Annabel and she can put a request in on your behalf,’ Rose explained.

Mitch pulled out his phone, asked for Annabel’s email address, and sent an email off straight away. He copied Rose in to the email and her phone beeped as the email hit her inbox. She glanced at her screen. Mitch’s signature on the bottom of the email included the contact details for the station.

Emu Downs.

It sounded so romantic. ‘Emu Downs. That’s a beautiful name.’

Mitch smiled and Rose’s heart soared. It was crazy how she reacted to his simple gestures. She’d spent months telling herself she wasn’t ready for a relationship yet this man, virtually a complete stranger, was able to make her body spring to life.

‘You’re imagining huge mobs of emus running across the land, aren’t you?’ Mitch’s question interrupted her fantasy.

Emus? She hadn’t been imagining anything of the sort! But she couldn’t tell him the truth—that she was feeling such a strong pull of attraction that she was amazed he hadn’t noticed. She couldn’t tell him the truth so she fibbed. ‘I was. Are there lots?’

‘Not any more. The dingoes and the drought have wiped a lot of them out.’

‘It’s a cattle station, is that right?’

Mitch nodded.

‘Has it always been in your family?’

‘It belongs to my wife’s family.’

The dead wife. That brought her back down to earth with a thump. This man with the gorgeous eyes and kind smile had children and a dead wife. He ran a cattle station out back of nowhere and he’d told her he had a lot on his plate. Hooking up with a random girl was probably not high on his agenda.

But Rose couldn’t shake the feeling that fate had brought him to her. That they were supposed to meet, that there was something between them and that he was going to be important to her in some way.

Or maybe she was going to be important to him. He looked a little distracted, lost in his memories, and Rose instinctively wanted to help. She had a tendency to feel other people’s pain. Perhaps because she’d suffered a major loss, the death of her father, at a young age, it had fine-tuned her empathy but she definitely felt as though she was the one who could help him. But how?




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