Bushfire Bride

The dog flashed back into her mind and she gave a guilty start. Her dog… Michael’s dog was back at the hospital. She half turned, but Hugo was before her.

‘Our hospital orderly has taken Penelope home for the night,’ he told her. ‘Jake’s wife has a poodle. We figured they’d get on fine.’

What was it with this man? He had the ability to read what she was thinking almost as she thought it. The feeling was really, really unnerving.

‘This lady’s a real champion,’ someone said behind her, and she recognised one of the men who’d been on the fire truck. There were scores of firefighters here. This must be their refuelling station before they went back to the fire or turned in for the night.

‘She’s a hungry real champion,’ Hugo said from behind her. His hand was on her shoulder and for some reason it was a huge support. His warmth gave her shaking legs strength. Somehow his presence made this welcome feel real-as if she was part of all this.

But it wasn’t real, she told herself a little bit desperately. It was an illusion. She was most definitely not a part of this. She cast Hugo an unsure glance and pulled away from under his hand.

But then she missed it when he released her. She missed…the contact? The link?

What?

‘Daddy!’ a voice yelled out from the other side of the hall and a tousle-headed, pyjama-clad Toby came bounding through the crowd of locals to greet him. Hugo reached out and caught him, swinging him high in the air.

‘Tobes. Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘Mrs Partridge made me have an afternoon sleep,’ Toby said, with all the indignation of a small man whose person has been significantly violated. ‘She said we’d all had a nasty shock and she needed a lie-down, too. So I went to sleep. And now I’m wide awake and Mrs Partridge’s helping me make lamingtons for the firefighters to eat tomorrow. Can we stay for a while, Daddy?’

‘Yes, we can,’ he told him, hugging him close. ‘Far be it from me to interfere with lamington-making. And we need to wait for Dr Harper to be fed.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we’re taking her home to stay with us.’

To stay with them? He had to be kidding.

He wasn’t. ‘There’s nowhere else.’

Full to the brim of Irish stew, fresh bread rolls and Toby’s magnificent lamingtons, Rachel was tucked into Hugo’s capacious car with as much room for argument as if she’d been a parcel.

‘But why?’

‘You’ve already discovered the motel’s full. There’s a couple of beds at the hospital but we need them. While this fire’s burning I want all resources left free for emergencies. Toby and I have a big house at the rear of the hospital and there’s two spare bedrooms.’

‘But your wife…’

‘I’m a widower,’ he said bluntly. ‘But I’m trustworthy.’ He put on his most trustworthy smile and she had to smile.

‘No, but-’

‘Exactly. No buts. Can you think of anywhere better?’ He smiled across at her and his smile had her insides doing strange things. Very strange things indeed. This was no trustworthy smile. It looked exactly the opposite.

But he was still speaking. She had to concentrate. ‘There’s no women’s refuge to be had,’ he was saying. ‘Despite the rumours. The dog pavilion’s closed for the night and something tells me you weren’t very comfortable there last night anyway. And the park benches are exceedingly hard. So it’s us or nothing.’

‘We really want you to stay,’ Toby announced from the back seat. ‘Me and Digger like you. Even though your dress looks funny.’

‘Gee, thanks.’ She fingered the Crimplene and wondered how it was that the Crimplene was the least odd thing in the succession of things that had happened to her today.

‘We’ll do something about that tomorrow,’ Hugo announced. ‘But for now, we’d be very pleased if you took up our offer of accommodation, Dr Harper. What about it?’

What about it? There was only one answer to that. She had no choice.

‘Yes, please,’ she said, and decided then and there that arguing was out of the question.

Things were entirely out of her hands.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE house they took her to was a big old timber home in the same grounds as the hospital. It had wide verandas all around and a garden that in the dim light cast by the hospital nightlights looked overgrown and rambling. Digger was lying on the front steps. When they arrived he rushed down to greet them, his whole body quivering in delight. Hugo pushed open the front door, Rachel walked inside as he followed, carrying Toby-and she stopped still in astonishment.

This wasn’t a home. It was an artwork.

A magnificent artwork.

Like something out of Vogue, it had been furnished with exquisite taste. In rich reds and golds, every piece of furnishing was richly ornate and highly decorative. The floor was sleekly polished with gorgeous Persian rugs scattered at artistic intervals. There were elegant pieces of sculpture, carefully placed. The settees and chairs were colour co-ordinated with dainty matching cushions, artfully arranged. Heavy brocade curtains were held back, looped and looped again with vast gold tassels that hung to the floor.

Good grief!

This wasn’t a doctor’s residence. It wasn’t a child’s residence.

It was frankly…scary.

But Hugo seemed oblivious, both to his surroundings and to her reaction. ‘Toby, would you show Dr Harper where she’ll sleep?’ he asked. ‘I’ll put the coffee on.’ He disappeared in the direction of the kitchen while Toby towed her through to the back of the house.

The further she went the more awful it became.

‘This room’s where my daddy sleeps and this is where Digger and I sleep,’ Toby told her, and Rachel had glimpses of two rooms with the same amazing furnishings. He towed her further. ‘You can have this room or this room.’

It made no difference which. Gorgeous brocade beds with hugely rich furnishings. Huge gold bows of something like velvet with threads of something shining and metallic hung at each corner of the bed. The beds looked like they took half an hour of intense concentration and a degree in interior design to make each morning!

Ugh.

‘Do you and your daddy like…um…really decorated houses?’ she asked, as Toby stood and waited for her verdict.

His small face furrowed in concentration. ‘Why?’

‘Your whole house is sort of…frilly. And red. And gold. You guys must really like red and gold, huh?’

‘I like purple,’ Toby told her.

‘So Daddy likes red and gold?’

‘I think he likes blue.’ Toby considered some more. ‘Or maybe yellow. Mr Addington at the bank has a really yellow car and whenever my dad sees it he whistles and says what a beauty.’

‘So why is your house red and gold?’

‘My mummy decorated the house,’ Toby told her. ‘My mummy died just after I was born. Daddy was really sad.’

‘I guess he would be.’ Rachel’s face softened. ‘Losing your mummy would be really hard.’