The Family Practitioner Page 4

  ‘Hamish has more freckles.’ Matt chuckled. ‘They’re great kids…’

  Joanna looked sharply at him, surprising a look of yearning in his eyes before the shutters came down and he spoke with forced cheerfulness: ‘Let’s find Deb, shall we? She’s probably in the kitchen.’

  They went through a vine-covered pergola and up the back steps. Joanna caught the aroma of spices and baking as Matt pushed open the door of the big farmhouse kitchen.

  ‘Hi, big brother!’ Debra Carlisle turned from rescuing something from the oven. ‘Come on in.’ Sliding the baking tray onto the bench top, she drew off her oven mitt and came forward to hug her sibling.

  ‘This is Joanna Winters, Deb.’ Matt made the introductions, keeping his hand loosely on his sister’s shoulder.

  Debra’s eyes widened fractionally. ‘Joanna.’ She smiled, offering her hand. ‘Welcome to Featherdale.’

  ‘Thank you. Matt’s told me lots about it already.’

  ‘And I promised Joanna a glass of your Shiraz,’ Matt said with a lazy smile.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure that can be arranged.’ Debra batted him playfully with her oven mitt. ‘But for now, be a love and go see what you can do for Scott, would you, please? For some reason he’s way behind schedule. He’ll be screaming for help any second.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’ Matt leaned across the bench and tore off a wedge from the freshly baked herb bread. ‘Just to keep me going,’ he said with a grin, slamming the screen door as he left.

  ‘He’s happy.’ Debra’s thoughtful comment came after a longish pause. ‘Anything to do with you, Joanna?’ The laughing lilt in her voice took away any suggestion she was being nosy.

  ‘We haven’t known each other long.’ Joanna flushed slightly. ‘We actually met through my son, Jason. He’s one of Matt’s basketball hopefuls.’

  ‘Oh, my gosh!’ Debra picked up a sprig of rosemary and stripped it. ‘You must have been a child bride!’

  ‘I was eighteen.’ Joanna laughed and then sobered. ‘My husband died shortly after we were married.’

  ‘Oh, how awful! What was it, an accident?’

  ‘A form of cancer.’ Almost defensively, Joanna flipped a teatowel from its rack and began to dry some plates that were in the drainer. Her expression closed. What was it about these McKellar siblings that seemed to draw out her innermost thoughts so easily?

  ‘That is so sad, Joanna.’ Debra got down a wooden bowl and began to tear greens for a salad. She shook her head. ‘Both you and Matt must have drawn the short straw—’ She stopped short, spinning round as the twins hurled themselves through the back door. ‘Right, into the shower, you two. And did you get rid of that smelly bait?’

  ‘Yes, Mum…’ they chorused.

  ‘Are we allowed to come to the barbecue?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘To eat only.’ Their mother was firm.

  Hamish sent a pleading smile to his mother. ‘Dad said there’d be a camp fire so we could make real billy tea.’

  Debra wavered. ‘Well, maybe you can stick around for that, but afterwards you skedaddle, OK?’

  ‘Yes!’ The youngsters touched hands in a high-five salute and took off up the hallway.

  Joanna chuckled. ‘They’re gorgeous, Deb.’

  ‘Double trouble, more like it,’ she countered with a wry grin. ‘But so worth it.’ She moved across to the sink to give her hands a quick rinse. ‘Now, let’s get that drink Matt promised you, shall we?’

  ‘How many are you expecting?’ Drink in hand, Joanna watched Deb sprinkle sultanas into a pan of rice and fold them through the savoury mixture.

  ‘Oh—about twenty, I think. Just a few from Matt’s staff and the rest are parents like yourself.’

  ‘I really envy you.’ Joanna shook her head, taking stock of the feast that was rapidly coming to fruition around them. ‘You seem to do everything so naturally.’ Her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘I’m a pretty basic cook.’

  ‘It’s just practice,’ Deb countered airily. ‘And actually I enjoy preparing food, which is the crux of it, according to the experts.’

  ‘Scott’s about ready for the steaks, Deb.’ Matt swung through the screen door, helping himself to a crisp radish from the salad bowl.

  ‘In the fridge.’ Debra hooked a tray out from a recessed shelf. ‘And there’s some marinated chicken pieces to go as well. We’ll chargrill those.’

  ‘I’ll take the salad, shall I?’ Joanna put down her glass and picked up the huge wooden bowl.

  ‘Lovely. Thanks, Joanna. Now, go and enjoy yourselves.’ Debra shooed them off. ‘The boys can manage the rest of the stuff.’ She grinned. ‘Their legs are much younger than ours after all.’

  It was just after ten o’clock when Matt dropped into a canvas chair beside Joanna. ‘You’re looking very pensive,’ he remarked, his teeth glinting in a smile that did odd things to her stomach.

  Joanna swallowed the last of her tea, relishing the distinctive smoky taste from the logs of eucalypts used in the camp fire. ‘I was just wondering if I’d mingled enough.’

  ‘I’m sure you have.’ He was firm. ‘And thanks for all your help this evening.’

  She turned her head slightly and looked at him. ‘I enjoyed myself.’

  ‘Hey, it’s not over yet.’ His eyes locked with hers and for an endless moment they stared at each other, then he abruptly turned away and drank from his own tea mug, and Joanna found she could breathe again.

  ‘It’s…all been lovely.’ She made the comment almost to herself, leaning back into her chair, breathing in the crisp night air. The garden flares were sending out interesting shadows across the lawn and overhead a necklace of stars looked close enough to touch. Matt was close enough to touch as well…She bit her lip, feeling the tingle all the way up her arm. At the same moment, her gaze went to her hands, noticing the way they’d crept together in her lap without her even feeling it.

  ‘Are you on a curfew this evening?’

  She heard the smile in Matt’s voice and looked sharply at him. ‘Not really. Jason’s well able to look after himself. Why do you ask?’

  He lifted a shoulder. ‘Someone’s brought a guitar. Scott thought he’d build up the fire a bit and we could have a sing-song.’

  ‘Sounds like fun.’

  His mouth quirked into a wry smile. ‘Not too homespun for you?’

  She sent him a pained look.

  ‘Come on, then, Doctor.’ Matt jackknifed to his feet and held his hand out to her.

  Joanna gave a breathy little laugh, leaning into him as he levered her upright.

  ‘This seems to be going to waste.’ Matt scooped up a woollen picnic rug someone had draped over the back of a chair. ‘I’m sure we could make much better use of it.’

  Joanna took a shallow breath, her heart tripping, as they began making their way across to the camp fire. It was as though she’d stepped into a dream sequence. And she wondered about this attraction between her and Matt McKellar. It had come out of nowhere. Would it disappear just as quickly? Doubts and questions as elusive as a butterfly’s wing ran through her mind.

  ‘Over here, I think.’ Matt broke into her thoughts, leading her across to a little knoll where they were just slightly apart from the company but from where they had a magical view of the night-time shapes of the trees against the glow of the campfire.

  When they were settled on the rug, he reached out and took her hand, linking their fingers. The atmosphere around them began to throb with the soft strumming of a guitar. And in another part of the garden an owl purred deep in its throat.

  Joanna felt a long shiver of awareness and turned her head towards him, but in the semi-darkness it was difficult to see more than the outline of his face. But she sensed she could feel him breathing, feel the beat of his pulse under her thumb as it curled against his wrist.

  Matt tightened his grip on her fingers, feeling her respond. He wanted to draw her closer, much closer, bury his face in her hair, breathe in her perfume. His throat wor
ked as he swallowed. ‘Joanna…’

  Suddenly their absorption with one another was shattered as starkly as the crack of a rifle in an arctic wilderness.

  A piercing cry of anguish had come from Scott. Moving without his usual care and attention to stoke up the camp fire, he’d tripped and fallen headlong into the smouldering logs.

  In a reflex action, he’d used his arm to lever himself out of harm’s way. But he hadn’t been quick enough. In seconds, the tight sleeve of his track top had become as lethal as one of the burning logs.

  ‘Oh, my lord!’ Joanna’s stomach lurched sickeningly.

  In one fluid movement, Matt was on his feet, tipping her almost bodily off the rug. ‘Get my bag!’ He thrust his keys at her. ‘Grab everything you think we’ll need, Joanna. Hurry!’

  Amongst the cries of disbelief, Matt’s voice rose authoritatively. ‘Get him on the ground and roll him!’ In a second Scott was lying on the grass and Matt had thrown the blanket over him to stop the insidious creep of the flame. ‘Deb…’ He swung his gaze up, his gut tightening. His sister’s face was rucked with fear. ‘Grab the garden hose,’ he said urgently. ‘We need water on Scott’s burns.’

  Debra made a little moan in her throat and ran.

  Bent on her own mission, Joanna moved like lightning, running to where Matt had parked his car. He’d said he was well equipped for emergencies. She only hoped he was.

  She yanked open the boot of his Mercedes, her gaze flying over the contents. From the little she’d seen, they had a real emergency on their hands. They didn’t have a second to spare. She took a steadying breath, reaching into the boot to snatch up Matt’s medical case, a space blanket and what was obviously a standby trauma kit.

  Please, God, she implored silently, let us not be looking at a tragedy…

  Matt had called for calm and the guests had drawn into a hushed little group. He looked up and acknowledged Joanna briefly as she dropped down beside him.

  ‘How bad is it?’ Joanna felt her mouth dry.

  ‘Pretty bad.’ Matt was grim. ‘Let’s get him on oxygen. He’s going into shock fast.’

  Joanna delved into the trauma kit for what they’d need. A powerful torch came out first, and she swung the light across so Matt could see what he was doing. One glance told them the synthetic material from Scott’s top had melted like butter on his flesh all the way to his shoulder.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Deb burst out, her voice reedy with apprehension. ‘He said he had a headache earlier. He couldn’t have looked where he was treading—’

  ‘Take it easy, Deb.’ Matt was gentle. ‘We’ll do everything we can.’

  ‘But he must be in such pain.’

  ‘I’m about to give him something now.’ Joanna moved swiftly to cannulate Scott, realising they’d need to run fluids through the line as well as the drugs. ‘Is Scott allergic to anything?’

  Deb shook her head. ‘No—not that we know of. Oh, God, Matt…’ Her hand went to her throat, the gravity of her husband’s situation taking hold. ‘He’s—not going to die, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s not!’ Matt responded clearly, and hoped he wasn’t lying through his teeth. ‘Deb, I know it’s hard, just watching, but if you want to be helpful, could you get us some wet towels? We’ll need to keep Scott’s skin hydrated on the way to the hospital.’

  ‘I’ll help.’ Elle, who had unobtrusively joined the group, took Debra’s arm and turned her quickly in the direction of the house.

  ‘IV’s in and holding.’ Joanna’s tone was crisp. ‘I’ve put up five hundred mils of fluids. And I’d like to go with morphine five milligrams and Maxolon ten. Sound about right?’

  Matt nodded. ‘Thanks, Joanna.’ His expression tightened. Where he’d been able to, he’d cut away the burned remnants of Scott’s top. He shook his head. There were still minute particles adhering to the skin and it was going to take a surgeon, using special solvents and fine scalpels, to remove them. Scott was in for a long haul.

  Following his gaze, Joanna made a little sound of distress. ‘Burns are such cruel injuries.’

  ‘I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemy.’ Swiftly, he made a check of Scott’s blood pressure. ‘Hell’s bells.’ He frowned at the reading. ‘He’s going into rapid shock! Put up more fluids, please, Joanna. We have to hold him somehow. And hit him with another two milligrams of morph!’

  The ambulance arrived and things began moving quickly. ‘Sorry about this, folks,’ Matt addressed the guests grimly. ‘Would you mind seeing yourselves off?’

  ‘No worries, Doc.’ One of the men had begun dousing the fire.

  ‘Will Scott be all right?’ Several of the women drew closer.

  The lines of strain etched deeper around Matt’s mouth. ‘Let’s hope so.’

  Joanna touched his arm. ‘Will you go with Scott in the ambulance?’

  He nodded. ‘By the look of things, I’ll have to intubate him on the way.’

  ‘Tricky.’ Joanna drew in a shaken breath. ‘Want me to come with you?’

  ‘Thanks, but no.’ Matt rubbed a finger across his forehead. ‘But I’d be grateful if you’d look after Deb. She’ll want to be at the hospital. Take my car.’

  ‘What about the boys?’

  Matt looked torn. ‘They went to bed ages ago…’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ Elle offered. ‘Please, heaven, things will be looking much better by the morning.’

  ‘I’m sorry your evening’s been ruined, Joanna,’ Deb said for the umpteenth time, as they sat in the hospital waiting room. ‘And Matt’s, too.’

  ‘Deb, please.’ Joanna gave the other woman’s hand a comforting squeeze. ‘Just be thankful we were there for Scott and we could act promptly.’ Joanna stole a glance at her watch, wondering just how much longer Matt was going to be. He’d insisted on speaking to the surgeon, telling Deb he’d be back when he had something concrete to tell her.

  She could only hope and pray the outcome for Scott would be positive.

  ‘Scott’s going to be terribly scarred, isn’t he?’ Deb said with a little catch in her voice. ‘Tell me truthfully, Joanna, is there a chance he could lose his arm?’

  Joanna hid her unease. The truth was, she had no way of knowing the full extent of Scott’s injuries. She only knew the burns had gone very deep, but whether they had destroyed vital muscles and tissue… ‘Deb, I know it’s awful just waiting, but the management of burn injuries has come on in leaps and bounds.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Deb’s face worked for a minute.

  Joanna sought to be positive. ‘Immediately Scott was brought in, he’d have been monitored for the slightest problem. And specialised burn dressings would have been applied to give his damaged skin every chance of survival.’ Joanna firmed her grip on the other’s hand. ‘Please, don’t dwell on the worst-case scenario. Look, why don’t I get us a cup of coffee?’

  Deb nodded. ‘OK…thanks, Joanna.’

  ‘I’ll take an extra minute to ring my son.’ Joanna got to her feet. ‘Just to let him know where I am.’

  Knowing the use of mobile phones within the hospital precincts was banned, Joanna slid her money into the payphone and dialled her home number. Jason answered promptly, and she explained what had happened.

  ‘Will…Mr Carlisle be OK?’

  Joanna heard the youthful uncertainty. ‘We’re hoping so. Matt should be back any minute from speaking with the surgeon. I’ll be home as soon as I can, Jase.’

  ‘Yeah, no worries, Mum. I’ll watch telly for a while.’

  ‘Don’t stay up too late,’ Joanna cautioned, and then wished she hadn’t. Just lately she’d begun to realise her son wasn’t a child any more. And if anything were to come of her relationship with Matt McKellar, that was something else she’d have to be very aware of.

  Seeing Debra so strung out and pinched-looking when she returned with the coffee, it made Joanna feel suddenly guilty for having allowed her own selfish needs to take over, even for a minute.

  As they sipped their co
ffee, both women were silent, each occupied with their own thoughts. Finally Deb stirred. ‘Will Matt know where to find us? Sorry.’ She made a small face. ‘It’s just that the waiting seems endless.’

  ‘Deb, I know,’ Joanna commiserated softly. ‘But I’m sure Matt will get here just as soon as he has something to tell us.’ She lifted her head and stiffened slightly, Matt McKellar’s approach making something odd happen inside her chest. ‘Look.’ She touched Deb’s shoulder. ‘Here he is now.’

  ‘Oh, thank heaven!’ In a second, Debra had dumped her coffee, moving awkwardly between the chairs towards Matt’s tall figure.

  Watching brother and sister, their dark heads close together, Joanna felt suddenly in the way. But she couldn’t leave until she at least had some knowledge of Scott’s condition…

  She’d waited. Matt couldn’t believe the joy he felt just seeing her there. And with quiet honesty, he faced the fact that Joanna Winters had already crept right under his skin. And what a hell of a time to be having these kinds of crazy thoughts, he derided himself, guiding Debra across to where Joanna waited.

  Joanna managed a half-smile, her heart leaping anew at the sight of him, watching as he pulled out a chair so that they sat in a semi-circle.

  ‘So, how is Scott and what’s the prognosis?’ Joanna asked quietly, itching to reach out and touch his hand where it lay across his thigh.

  ‘Scott’s in Theatre now,’ Matt began carefully, and looked at his sister. ‘He’s in for a long old op, Deb. But Jon Barkley, the surgeon, is hopeful of a good outcome.’

  ‘Oh…’ Deb sagged against him. ‘Thank heavens. I’d begun thinking all kinds of crazy things.’

  ‘Come on, Deb,’ her brother cajoled bracingly, ‘you won’t lose Scott. But he’s in for a bumpy ride over the next few months.’

  ‘They’ll do skin grafts?’ Joanna’s dark brows lifted in question.

  Matt nodded. ‘From the thigh initially. But it’s quite probable they’ll need to send Scott on to the burns unit at the Royal in Brisbane for future management.’

  ‘That all sounds very positive.’ Suddenly, Joanna was on her feet, deciding she didn’t want to intrude any further in what was clearly now a time for family. The repercussions from Scott’s accident would be many and there were domestic decisions and arrangements that would have to be made. ‘If there’s nothing else I can do, I’ll find a cab, I think, and get off home.’