‘I promise. Come on, Shelly, don’t keep me in suspense. Has she finally decided to head off back to Sydney to her beloved emergency department?’ Clara asked, rather too hopefully.
‘Oh, it’s better than that,’ Shelly said excitedly, perching herself on the edge of the desk and beckoning Clara closer. ‘And if you let it slip I’ll never—’
‘Get on with it.’ Clara laughed, sitting back on her seat and waiting to hear what Shelly was so excited about.
‘I can’t ask Abby to work tonight, because I have it on excellent authority that someone else wants to ask her something.’
‘I’m not with you.’ Clara shook her head, bemused.
‘You really don’t have a clue, do you? Where have you been hiding the last week or so, Clara? The bush telegraph’s been working overtime,’ Shelly whispered excitedly. ‘Guess where Kell is?’
‘On a day off.’
‘Yes, but guess what he’s doing?’
‘He said he was going into town,’ Clara shrugged. ‘Bruce was going to fly him there.’
‘Which he did a couple of weeks ago, and Bruce saw him going into a jeweller’s!’ When Clara still didn’t catch on Shelly thumped her playfully on the arm, jumping off the desk with an excited whoop as for Clara reality finally dawned. ‘Kell’s going to ask Abby to marry him, Clara! I’m on my way over to Abby’s now. I’ve managed to squeeze her in to get her hair and nails done, though she’s absolutely no idea what Kell’s got planned. I can’t possibly tell her that Bill’s finally decided to have the op or she’ll be over in a flash, that’s why I’m bending over backwards to sort out the roster and make sure everything goes smoothly. Nothing must spoil tonight for them. Can you believe Kell’s actually going to propose?’
Clara couldn’t.
For a moment the world stopped. She could hear Shelly laughing and talking in the background, was vaguely aware even of Ross and some other guy walking in, but for that moment in time her heart felt as if it wasn’t beating any more. Clutching Bill’s pile of notes to her chest as if it were some sort of shield, she sat there as the news washed over her.
Kell Bevan was going to propose.
After all these years Kell had finally got off his blue-jeaned backside and made a flight into town to pick up a ring on the day of the Tennengarrah ball.
It was just how she’d imagined it.
Just how she’d secretly dreamed it would be. The barn alight with fairy-lights, tea-candles burning on the tables, the scent of white gardenias filling the night air, the stars twinkling endlessly above as Kell finally proposed.
Maybe she hadn’t prayed hard enough.
Perhaps when she’d made the mental bargain with the powers that be she hadn’t been specific enough, had forgotten to point out what should have been so blazingly obvious.
Kell should have been asking her.
‘AND this is Clara, who knows more about Tennengarrah than the whole lot of us put together, don’t you?’
‘Sorry?’ Realising that not only was she being spoken to but that a response was very much the order of the day, Clara turned her slightly startled expression to Ross.
‘I was just telling Timothy here how much we all depend on you, and that if he needs anything he only has to ask.’ Ross Bodey’s rather strained smile left Clara in no doubt she’d been daydreaming too long and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
‘He’s the new doctor,’ Shelly mumbled in an undertone, pushing Clara forward to shake Timothy’s outstretched hand. ‘From England.’
‘But you’re not due for a couple of weeks yet.’
It wasn’t the most welcoming of greetings—in fact, on a rating of one to ten it would barely have scored—but, given the bombshell Shelly had just been dropped, Clara was amazed she could actually speak, and what was more her voice even sounded vaguely familiar!
‘I ran out of cash.’
His admission startled her out of her confusion momentarily. Shifting the pile of notes into one arm, Clara accepted the outstretched hand and found herself looking into two smiling green eyes, even managing a rather forced smile back as thankfully he went over the formalities she had clearly missed.
‘Timothy Morgan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Clara Watts,’ she mumbled, stealing a closer look. He certainly didn’t look like someone who would run out of cash. His clothes, though casual, were certainly top notch and he had a very English, rather upper-crust accent, his thick curly brown hair was superbly cut but, more importantly, there was a slightly unassuming air about him, a refreshing openness to the smile he easily imparted as he shook her hand firmly. ‘So you’re from England. Are you here on a working holiday?’
‘That’s right,’ Timothy answered cheerfully. ‘Though I’ve been away for nearly a year now, working and trying to fit in all the touristy things.’
Lord, he could talk. She’d only asked a question to be polite! All Clara really wanted to do was dash off to the loo, bury her head in her hands and go over the news Shelly had so happily imparted. But instead she had to stand and make polite noises as Dr Timothy Morgan took her on an impromptu virtual tour of Australia, pulling photos out of his pocket like a magician as he told her how he’d bought a cheap ute, worked his way down the east coast of Australia and was now working his way up the middle.
‘I was hoping to make my fortune in Coober Pedey,’ Timothy chattered on easily. ‘I read in my guide book that some tourists make enough to fund their entire trip, only in my case I spent three weeks fossicking in the dirt for opals and ended up spending a fortune having the two tiny stones I found mounted, which wasn’t exactly the plan, so I’m hoping to start here early.’
‘How early?’ Shelly asked hopefully, peering at the roster as Ross started to laugh.
‘You can’t ask the poor guy to work on his first night here—he should be over at the ball, getting to know all the locals in one swoop. What’s the problem?’
‘I can’t get anyone to work tonight.’
‘But I thought Irene was coming.’
‘She is, but she made it very clear she doesn’t want to hand over to the Flying Doctors. So if they don’t get here before seven, one of us is going to have to be here, and I can hardly ask Kell or Abby.’
‘And you can’t ask Clara,’ Ross said firmly. ‘She’s on the ball committee, for goodness’ sake, they’ve been planning this for months.’
‘No, you can’t ask Clara.’
The conversation that had been taking place ended abruptly, every eye turning as the new guy in town put in his ten cents’ worth to a problem that clearly wasn’t his.
‘Because I intend to ask her to dance.’
It was an unfortunate moment to drop the pile of notes Clara had been precariously balancing.
Unfortunate, because from the look that flashed between Ross and Shelly they clearly thought Timothy’s rather vocal intentions had caused her lapse in concentration.
Unfortunate, because Shelly, an eternal romantic at the best of times, would be for ever on her case now about