soft down of his cheek and she’d smelt the new-baby smell of him. It had been so real it was with her still, a reality in a world that had gone mad.

A reality.

It was real. She could see him clearly, and she could sense that he was loved and cared for and at peace.

Her baby was OK.

She was no true believer. Somewhere along the way Megan had lost what religion she’s had, had lost it in despair and bleakness and the sheer desperate grind for survival.

But now…

Her baby was dead, she thought, but her arms still cradled him, her heart still held him.

Her baby was loved.

Her little son…

He was waiting for her. Her tiny boy.

Her baby.

Away from the fire the beach was deserted. The last of the barbecued prawns had been eaten. Hamish was sitting on a mass of driftwood, strumming a guitar and humming something soft and sweet. Maybe dreaming of a girl back in Scotland? CJ and Rudolph had fallen asleep at his feet, a warm and contented bundle of small boy and dog, and when Cal looked queryingly at his friend, Hamish grinned and paused in his strumming long enough to indicate that his friend should go ahead. He’d take over child-and dog-minding duties.

So Cal was free to lead Gina along the beach, out of the pool of light cast by the fire. Out of earshot of their friends.

The night was still and warm. The tide was coming in and Gina and Cal were barefoot, soaking up the cool of the sea between their toes. Soaking up the serenity of the evening. The serenity of certainty-the knowledge that from here they’d move forward together.

‘I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid,’ Cal said softly. They’d been swinging their hands as they’d wandered toward the headland but now he paused and twisted so he was facing her. ‘What you’ve gone through alone, because of my stupidity…’

‘No.’ She took his face between her hands and smiled up at him. ‘Cal, if five years ago you’d wanted me, if you’d begged me to stay, if you’d wanted CJ as your son, there’d still have been Paul. And Paul was my husband. He was my friend. I’ve been thinking about it. If that phone call had come to say he’d been injured, and you’d loved me and wanted me, maybe I still would have had to go. And how much harder would it have been?’

‘You’d let me off…’

‘There’s no letting off,’ she told him. ‘Five years ago you weren’t ready for loving and I wasn’t free to return that love.’

He thought about that for a moment and still found it unsatisfactory. ‘OK, then,’ he said, grudgingly. ‘But no matter how you look at it, we’ve still wasted two days.’

‘Um…right.’

‘I don’t want to waste any more time.’

‘No.’

‘So will you marry me?’

She thought about it.

‘There’s a few conditions,’ she said at last.

‘Like what?’

She tried to make her face stern. She tried to keep the loving laughter at bay-the joy from showing in her response. This was important.

‘You’re never to ask what my insulin levels are,’ she managed. ‘You’d be my husband, Cal Jamieson, not my doctor. I’ve already asked Charles if he’ll be my physician and he’s agreed.’

‘But-’

‘No negotiation, Cal. I don’t need you as my doctor. Take it or leave it.’

‘I’ll take it.’

‘You’re never to sleep on the opposite side of the bed.’

He grinned. ‘That’s a given.’

‘You’re to tell me when you’re worried or when you’re sick or when you’re frightened.’

‘So you get to know my insulin levels but I don’t get to know yours?’

‘I have the upper hand,’ she said serenely. ‘It may be the last time it happens so I’m making the most of it. Promise me, Cal.’

‘You drive a hard bargain.’

‘I know,’ she said smugly. ‘But it has to start now. So start. Are you worried about anything now?’

‘Um…yes.’

‘Why?’

‘You might not promise to marry me.’

‘I have to think up some more conditions.’

‘What about loving?’ he said softly. ‘And needing. If I promise to need you every day of my life, every hour of every day, every moment…if I promise to need you…’

‘As much as I need you,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think that’s possible.’

‘How can you still need me?’

‘My son loves your stupid dog,’ she said, and her hands slipped to his waist and tugged him into her. ‘CJ loves your dopey dog. I love him and the only way I can get this whole crazy family together is to agree to marry you. So you see…’ But she was forced to pause as his lips met hers, and the pause lengthened and lengthened. When finally she managed to speak again her voice had grown breathless. ‘So you see,’ she whispered. ‘I do need you.’

‘You’ll be my family?’

‘Of course I’ll be your family,’ she said, really, really unsteadily. ‘I think I already am. Maybe I’ve been your family for five long years and you haven’t even realised it. Even Paul…’

‘I owe Paul,’ Cal said, and the laughter suddenly disappeared as he tried to speak of what he’d been thinking. ‘Paul was your husband and his death has brought you back to me. But Paul’s decision-to face life, to search for what love truly was-was what brought you to me in the first place. He’ll always be honoured in our home.’

‘Oh, Cal…’

‘Will we have more kids?’ he asked, and she stared up at him in such astonishment that he leaned back to see what she was thinking.

‘What? What’s surprising about that?’

‘You want to extend our family?’

‘Family’s good,’ he said, tugging her back to him again. ‘Family’s great. Three days ago I was alone. Now I have you, I have my son and I have a dog. And I was wondering…’ He smiled against her hair. ‘Gina, if Lucky’s parents aren’t found…’

‘You’d want him?’ She could scarcely speak. This was so much how she’d been feeling herself.

‘I guess I’ve learned that love expands to fit all comers,’ he whispered. ‘Lucky brought you back to me. We could love him. Couldn’t we?’

‘Of course we could,’ she whispered. ‘Of course. Oh, Cal…’

‘And if we do find his parents…’

‘Then we’ll just have to work on making our own babies,’ she told him. ‘How about that for a good idea?’

He didn’t answer. And she didn’t speak. His kiss was all the response she needed and their kiss lasted a very long time.

‘So you’ll marry me,’ he said at last into the stillness of the night, and she held him close and felt his heartbeat and wondered how he could ever ask that question.

‘Of course I will. My heart.’

‘Then I guess we should go back to the fire,’ he told her.

She glanced along the beach, where their friends, the medics of Crocodile Creek, were clustered together on

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