Flight to Coorah Creek (21 page)

Adam smiled, as he always did when he saw Jess. She turned at the sound of the vehicle.

‘Pull over,' Adam told Jack. ‘I need to tell Jess we won't need her this time.'

Jack did as he was told, and Jess's face creased in question as she drew near.

‘Do you need the plane?' she asked.

‘No. I just wanted to let you know that everything is fine. We don't need a transport.'

Adam loved the relief that flashed across her face. It showed how much she cared. It was just another thing they had in common.

He nodded to Jess as Jack slipped the vehicle back into gear. As they pulled away, Adam glanced in the rear-view mirror … and saw Jess looking after them. She was frowning. Adam wondered why. He instinctively wanted to wipe that frown away. He could do that. That was the great gift she had given him – that he could make her smile.

And he understood now – that smile was for him.

There was no ‘bam' moment. The sudden pounding of his heart was something that had been creeping up on him for weeks. Since the day he'd run up those aircraft stairs and come face to face with a woman who was smart and sexy and just as strong and difficult as he was. It wasn't just that she was beautiful … although she was. It wasn't just the memory of her body lying soft and golden in the sunlight. It was watching the sunset together in silence. It was laughing together as they flew. It was desire and so much more. Jess knew about the scars on his back. She knew about his past. But when she looked at him, she just saw him. The man he was. And she looked at him just the same way that Andrea looked at Lachlan. Those kids shared a love strong enough to ease the pain of a shattered bone. What he and Jess shared was stronger than that. It was strong enough to wipe away his scars. Strong enough to wipe away whatever haunted Jess. He had been clinging to a slowly building hope. Hope had now become belief. And certainty.

Adam started to hum along with Jack.

There were clouds on the horizon when Adam emerged from the hospital. The air had that crisp electric feel that comes right before a storm. He could almost feel the hairs on his arm tingling. A storm was strange for this time of the year, but Adam wasn't in the mood to question it. He was in a good mood. Since coming to Coorah Creek, he'd been content with his life. Now he was more than simply content. For the first time in a long, long time, he was happy. Actually happy.

He'd set Andrea's arm. The break was clean and the girl was going to heal just fine. He'd left the young couple getting settled into the room where they would both spend the night. Sister Luke was there to take care of them. As long as there were no other emergencies, he was free for the rest of the day. Please, he thought raising his eyes to the sky, can no one do anything stupid or dangerous for the next few hours.

He glanced down at his watch and was surprised to find it was only midday. Could it be that he had been involved in the rescue, set a broken arm, treated a multitude of scrapes and bruises all in just a morning? He pursed his lips and tried to whistle. It sounded a bit strange – music was not his talent. But it sounded good all the same. He sounded like a happy man.

He glanced towards Jessica's house. She might be there – or she might be down at the airstrip with her aircraft. She just loved that plane. Either way, he had something to do before he went looking for her. He would stroll over to the pub and see if Syd or Trish had a nice bottle of wine they could let him have to share over dinner tonight. Maybe he could convince Ellen to cook something special. He was due to check on Steve and Nikki's new baby later today. The one he and Jess had delivered together. Perhaps Jess would want to go with him. She seemed to like the baby and her young parents. Then if Steve still had flowers in his garden … Or would flowers be too much? It was a long time since Adam had … what was the word … courted a woman. He really wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

He had a feeling, a hope at least, that Jess wouldn't judge his efforts too harshly.

He was halfway to the pub when the smile on his face suddenly faded.

‘Hello, Doc,' John Hewitt said, as he drew near.

‘Hello.' Adam was not at all pleased to see the journalist. He angled his steps to avoid the man, but John held up a hand to stop him.

‘Can you spare me a minute, Doc?'

‘Well, actually, I am on my way somewhere.' Adam brushed past.

‘It's about Jess,' the voice behind him spoke the only words that would stop Adam in mid-stride.

Adam took firm control of himself, and slowly turned to face the reporter. He didn't like the look on Hewitt's face.

‘I was wondering just how well you knew her.'

Adam felt his gut clench. He didn't know what was coming, but his intuition told him Hewitt was out to make trouble.

‘I know everything I need to know,' Adam said firmly. He turned around and kept walking, hoping deep down inside that he could still avoid what was coming. He'd taken three steps when Hewitt spoke again.

‘So you do know about the drug smuggling?'

Adam stopped. With every fibre of his being he wished he had never heard those words. He wished he could keep walking. But it was too late now. Slowly he turned to face the journalist. The look of triumph on the man's face made Adam clench his hands into fists. The desire to hit the man was almost overwhelming. He'd always known that something haunted Jess. That she was keeping something secret from the people who had become her friends. From him. He'd thought it had something to do with a man. A past lover. But this? Drugs?

No. Not Jess!

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' he said. ‘You've made some mistake.'

‘I'm not the one who is mistaken,' Hewitt said, unable to hide the glee in his voice. ‘Didn't you ever wonder why someone like her was flying an air ambulance way out here in the middle of nowhere?'

Adam couldn't answer – because he had asked himself that very question more than once.

‘Let me tell you about Jessica Pearson,' Hewitt continued. ‘Her boyfriend was Brian Hayes. You must have heard of him. Heroin Hayes they called him. It was in all the papers. Jet-setting playboy – and drug smuggler. He imported the drugs on board his fancy private jet. And his pilot was – you guessed it – none other than your Jessica.'

‘If that was true she would have been charged,' Adam said.

‘But she turned him in. Maybe they had a lover's spat. She handed him over to the feds in return for immunity. How's that for loyalty?'

‘You're lying,' Adam said, turning away, trying hard to believe that it really was a lie.

‘Really?' The reporter pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it and waved it triumphantly in front of Adam. ‘Then I guess this is a fake?'

Adam didn't want to look. He wanted to go back in time and erase the last few minutes from history. Take back the words that were now seared into his brain. But he couldn't do it. Any more than he could stop his eyes from turning towards that piece of paper. It was a printout from some internet news page.

Drug Baron GUILTY screamed the headline, but it was the name that leaped off the page. Jessica Pearson. The photo wasn't very clear. The woman's face was hidden behind an unexpected mane of long dark hair, but he didn't need to see her face to know it was Jess. His Jess. Nothing as simple as changing her hair or where she worked would ever disguise the woman he had come to … The words began to dance in front of him – drug plane pilot … escaped charges … evidence against her lover …

‘So, Doc. Have you got a quote for me about your pilot?'

Adam looked into the man's face. For the first time in a very long time, he hated another human being. Anger, disappointment and above all an overwhelming sense of losing something indescribably precious boiled over. He clenched his fist and swung at the sneering mouth. Pain shot up his arm as his fist connected, but that was nothing to the satisfaction of seeing Hewitt fall flat on his back in the red dust.

‘If I ever see you anywhere near my hospital, or the houses on the hospital grounds or the airport, I will call the cops. So why don't you just crawl back under whatever rock you came from.'

Adam was shaking as he spun on his heel and walked away. He never lost his temper. Never. He knew only too well what happened when a person lost control. But that reporter had been asking for it. Telling lies like that. And enjoying it! What sort of a person took glee from destroying another person. Or trying to. A drug smuggler? Jess would never get involved in something like that.

If he repeated the words often enough, it might take away that horrible doubt that was roiling in the bottom of his gut.

He glanced over to see Jessica's car pull up outside her house. With his anger driving him, he strode across the parched earth. He would put an end to this right now. He'd tell Jessica what the reporter was up to. Then he'd help her stop that story being published. Because it was all lies. It had to be lies.

When he reached the house, Jessica was on the veranda, digging in her pockets for the key to the front door. She was wearing those same blue jeans and white top that such a short time ago had sent his heart pounding. She turned as she heard him approach, and as always her face broke into a smile when she saw him. Then the smile faltered. She frowned.

‘Adam?'

In two quick leaps he was up the stairs, standing in front of her. Her eyes grew wide as they searched his face, and her face went a deathly shade of white.

The suspicion he'd been trying to deny suddenly grew into a monster.

‘Jess … tell me it's not true?'

Jess opened her mouth to speak, but the words just would not come. She tried to draw a breath, but couldn't. All she could see was Adam's face. He was begging her to deny something he already half-believed. Part of her died because she couldn't deny it.

For an eternity they stared at each other – so close Jess could reach out and touch him, but for the wall between them that was growing higher with each passing second. Adam's face changed. The question vanished and she saw an emotion that may have been disappointment … or anger … or hate.

‘It's true?' His words were little more than a whisper, but the depth of feeling in those two words tore a hole in her heart.

‘I was going to tell you, Adam. I went to the hospital this morning, but you weren't there.'

He shook his head. ‘That was today. What about yesterday? And last week. All this time, Jess, you were lying to me.'

‘No. Not lying.'

‘You didn't tell me the truth. That you were part of a drug ring.'

‘I wasn't …' The words caught in her throat. She couldn't deny it. Her plane. Her responsibility.
The look on Adam's face was destroying her. She felt her knees start to give way.

Adam reached out and grabbed her. As she felt his strong fingers grip her arms so tightly it hurt, she realised this was the first time Adam had ever reached out to touch her. The first … and the last.

‘You weren't what? Jess. Talk to me. I'll believe you, Jess. Just tell me you didn't do this. Not drugs, Jess. Anything but drugs.'

She could hear the pleading in his voice. He wanted her to deny it. Almost as much as she wanted to speak the words. But she couldn't. She was who she was. In coming to Coorah Creek she had been running away. There was nowhere left to run. She had to face up to what she had done.

‘Adam, I am so sorry.'

His hand dropped away. ‘It's true. You brought drugs into the country on your plane?'

Her throat was too constricted to form words. She nodded.

‘And you gave evidence to save yourself from prosecution?'

It wasn't like that, she wanted to say. But she couldn't find her voice. She could barely breathe. She nodded again.

‘And this drug baron – he was your boss? He was your … lover?' As he spoke the last word, his voice broke.

She nodded again and watched as his face closed over and became like stone. He took a step back, opening a gulf between them that Jess knew could never be crossed.

Of all the moments in the nightmare of her life, this one hurt the most.

The day she found the white powder. The drug agents tearing apart her beautiful plane. Not even the nights in prison had hurt one fraction as much as the look on Adam's face right here and now.

It was over. Jess knew in her heart of hearts that there was no coming back from this. In a moment, Adam would speak the words that would send her away from Coorah Creek. Away from the friends who had come to mean so much to her. Away from him. He was sentencing her to a different kind of prison.

His chest rose as he took one long, deep breath.

‘Adam!' The loud shout came from the direction of the hospital. ‘Jessica!'

They both dragged their eyes away from each other and turned to find Sister Luke hurrying in their direction. ‘You need to get in the air. There's been a shooting.'

Adam was the first to speak. ‘Where?'

‘Clifton Downs.'

Jess saw Adam's shoulder's sink. She had no idea where Clifton Downs was, but she knew what was coming. Adam turned back towards her.

‘Go to the airport. I'll get my gear and be right behind you.'

She nodded. Whatever problems lay between the two of them, the job came first. Someone needed help and that was her job. Once she was in the air, in that vast blue expanse where everything had always seemed so easy, she might find an answer. A way to talk to Adam and tell him that he was wrong. Because if she didn't this would be their last flight together.

And that thought was just too terrible to bear.

The cabin of the Beechcraft was a little less than ten metres long. Jess could feel Adam's presence as keenly as if he were right next to her. But he wasn't. When they had boarded the plane, Adam had chosen a seat as far away from Jessica as he could be. Apart from the necessities of their work, he hadn't spoken to her. He had even avoided looking at her. The co-pilot's seat seemed very empty without him in it.

The storm that had been building all day over Coorah Creek broke as they flew away. She'd seen the lightning fade into the distance behind them. It hadn't lasted long. Outback storms were quickly spent. But the storm she was facing would not be so easily diffused. Nor could she leave it behind. It was right there in the aircraft with her.

On this flight there was no easy conversation. No shared laughter. The only noise was the steady hum of the engines. Jess kept her eyes steadfastly ahead of her, fixed on her instrument panel or the endless blue sky.

Sister Luke had joined them on the flight. She was seated in the middle of the aircraft, her eyes darting from Jessica to Adam and back again. Her face was creased in a small, tight frown. She could obviously sense the tension between the two of them, but had no idea about its cause. Soon, Jessica was going to have to tell Sister Luke everything. To explain why she was leaving. Because leave she must. Adam didn't want her to stay. That much was very clear.

She would tell Sister Luke the truth. The whole truth. Jack, too. These people who had become her friends deserved the truth. Ellen knew the whole story, and hadn't judged her. She was sure Jack and Sister Luke would be equally understanding. And Adam? He wasn't ready to hear it. Maybe one day. Long after she'd gone and Adam had let go of his anger, perhaps one of them would tell him her side of the story. It would be too late for her, but she hoped he would hear it any way.

The radio crackled. Clifton Downs was calling. It was the third such call since they'd left Coorah Creek.

‘Reading you, Clifton Downs.'

‘How far out are you?'

Jess didn't need to check her instruments. Without Adam by her side to talk to, she had been tracking their progress in minute detail, hoping it would stop her from thinking. It hadn't.

‘Clifton we'll be there in about thirty minutes.'

‘Can we talk to the doc again?'

Jess turned in her seat. ‘Adam …'

Adam's eyes were hooded and unreadable as he made his way forward. He slipped into the co-pilot's seat, taking extreme care not to even brush against her shoulder. It seemed he wanted the gulf between them to be as physical as it was emotional.

‘Doctor Adam Gilmore here, Clifton Downs.'

‘Doc. He's not good. We did everything you said when we called earlier. But it's not good.'

‘He's still breathing?'

‘Yes. But Doc, it's really ragged. And the head wound …' Even over a radio, it was clear the person on the ground was deeply distressed.

‘Just make sure he doesn't move,' Adam said. Then to Jess, ‘Can we go any faster?' He didn't look at her as he asked.

‘I'm doing the best I can, Adam, but this plane can only go so fast. I'll get you on the ground as soon as possible.'

‘Clifton Downs, make sure there's someone at the airport waiting for me. Every second counts.'

‘Roger, Doc. There'll be someone there.'

Adam turned away without another word and returned to his seat at the back of the plane. Jess fought back the tears that threatened and checked her instruments to see if there was even the tiniest fraction more speed she could safely coax from the Beechcraft. No one was ever going to say she didn't try hard enough!

When she finally saw Clifton Downs, she banked and lost height as fast as possible. She may have shaved a few safety standards, but she also shaved a few minutes off the flight. A dusty brown station wagon was waiting at the end of the airstrip, and as she pulled up next to it, Jessica knew she had done everything humanly possible to get Adam to the injured man in time. No one could have done better. A sudden wave of pain lanced through her with the realisation that next time Adam hurried to help a patient, there would be someone else at the controls of the Beechcraft. Someone else at Adam's side. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought, but she brushed them away. Tears would change nothing.

While she was still shutting down the engines, Adam was on his feet, handing his medical bags out to the eager hands outside. He leaped down the aircraft stairs without even a glance at Jessica. Sister Luke was close behind, but she took the time to ever so briefly lay a comforting hand on Jessica's shoulder.

A few seconds later, the sound of a racing engine told Jessica they were gone. Slowly she slumped forward, rubbing her hands over her face. Her shoulders ached with tension. That had been the most difficult flight of her entire life. The day she flew back from Vietnam, with Brian and a load of drugs on board the plane had been difficult. But she'd had a co-pilot sitting next to her. And Brian was in the back of the plane with his associates, far away from her. Knowing that police and arrest were waiting for them in Sydney had made that flight hard. Knowing she'd been betrayed by Brian had made it even harder. But that flight was nothing compared to the difficulty of the past couple of hours. She had come to really love this job. To believe in the importance of her work. Ellen and her kids, Jack and Sister Luke had become like family to her. And Adam …

Sitting at the controls of the plane, knowing he was behind her. Hating her and wishing her gone. Nothing in her life had ever been harder than that.

The sound of another car engine caused her to lift her head. They couldn't be back already? Quickly she unstrapped herself from the pilot's seat. She climbed down the aircraft stairs to be greeted by an Aboriginal stockman just emerging from another dusty car.

‘Do you need to refuel?' the man asked.

Jessica glanced at her watch, and at the position of the sun. There was enough daylight left to fly back to Coorah Creek. Or to Mount Isa – which had landing lights on the strip. If the injured man was as seriously hurt as he sounded, she had to be ready for another fast departure.

‘Yes, I do.'

The man led the way to a small rusty tin shed. Inside were several forty-four gallon drums of aviation fuel. With a powerful heave and a deep grunt, the man tipped one over and began to roll it towards the Beechcraft. Jess picked up the hand pump and followed.

When Adam needed her, she would be ready.

As soon as he walked into the room Adam knew there was nothing he could do. He crossed to the bed and looked down at the man who lay there. A rough, bloodstained bandage covered half his face and the back of his head, but it couldn't hide the damage the shotgun blast had done. The man's breath was ragged. As each shallow breath stuttered to its end, it seemed he would not take another. Then slowly his chest would rise again. Adam placed his medical bag on the end of the table and opened it. He was a doctor. He would do what he could, but he knew he was going to fail. This man was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He heard footsteps behind him. Sister Luke took up position at the other side of the bed, ready to assist. She looked at Adam and raised an eyebrow in question. He shook his head slowly. He saw acceptance cross Sister Luke's face. She gently reached for the man's large calloused brown hand and cradled it in hers. In the other hand, she grasped the plain wooden cross that hung around her neck. Her eyes closed and her lips began to move in prayer.

Adam lifted the bloody bandage, wincing as he saw the extent of the man's injuries. The shooting had been a terrible accident while the station staff were culling wild pigs. It was such a tragic loss of life, made even more so by the fact that the man had a young family. Adam carefully covered the wound with a new dressing. Taking some cotton wool, he began to gently clean the blood from the man's face. Not that it would matter to his patient. The man would never wake. But his wife and children didn't need to see him like this.

He was disposing of the soiled dressing when he realised that the room had fallen silent. One glance at his patient's face told him it was over. He looked at his watch to note the time for the death certificate he would soon have to sign. Sister Luke crossed herself, and then gently placed the man's hand back on the bed. A cotton bedcover lay on a chair in the corner of the room. Adam helped Sister Luke to lay it over the dead man, then took a deep breath and went to tell the family.

The station manager drove them back to the airstrip.

‘Are you sure about heading back, Doc?'

‘Yes. I have patients in my clinic back at the Creek,' Adam said. He'd given the distressed widow some sedatives. Beyond that, there was nothing more he could do here.

‘All right.'

‘The police will be here soon,' Adam said. ‘I reported the shooting from the plane. I know it was an accident, but that's the law. I had to do it.'

‘I know. We had word the sergeant is on his way. He won't get here until later tonight.'

‘He'll take it from here.'

‘Okay. Thanks Doc.' The man parked the vehicle beside the Beechcraft.

Adam slowly got out of the car. Jess was waiting in the shade of the aircraft wing. He saw the understanding in her face as she watched him approach. And the sympathy. He wanted none of it.

‘Do we have time to get back to the Creek before dark?' he asked. The words came out harsher than he wanted, but that was not something he could change now.

‘Yes.'

‘Then let's go.'

He walked past her and climbed the aircraft stairs. Again, where once he would have taken the co-pilot's seat, he turned towards the rear of the aircraft. He dropped into the seat and clipped his seat belt tightly. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, but he knew he would find no rest on this flight. The rhythms of take-off and the gentle hum of the engines used to easily lull him into sleep. In the past, he'd slept away many a long, dull flight. Since Jess came, though, the flights hadn't been dull. Nothing with Jess was ever dull, and he'd loved every minute spent in that co-pilot's seat. Talking to Jess. Laughing with Jess while the great western plains had rolled away below them. She had a way of lifting the darkness inside him. She might even have been able to take away some of the pain that filled him on days like today – when his skill had not been enough to save someone.

But he'd never know, because that Jess was gone.

The Jess he thought he'd known cared about people. She was funny and caring and a good friend. All this time he'd known she had a secret … but he had not even begun to suspect it was drugs. Drugs! The healer in him hated drugs and everything and everyone connected with them. It wasn't the illegality of it that shocked him so much as the disregard for the poor souls who lost themselves. How could Jess be involved in drug dealing?

He obviously didn't know her at all.

It was going to be a very long flight back to the Creek. And then Jess would leave …

‘You're not fooling me, you know.'

Adam opened his eyes as Sister Luke slipped into the seat across the aisle from him. He couldn't help but glance towards the front of the plane. He could see the outline of Jess's head moving slightly as she did that thing she always did – the constant rotation of her eyes from the window to her instruments and back again. There had been a time when she'd looked at him too. But that was gone now.

‘I don't know what you mean,' Adam said, with very little hope that Sister Luke would leave him alone. The nun was like a dog with a bone sometimes.

‘There's something wrong between you and Jess,' Sister Luke said.

It would do him no good to deny it. She knew him too well. ‘She's leaving as soon as we get back.'

‘What? Why?'

Sister Luke looked genuinely shocked. Adam felt his heart clench. Sister Luke deserved to know, but she should hear it from Jessica. If Jessica didn't have the courage to tell Sister Luke … well … he'd make sure she did what she had to do. Sister Luke deserved that.

‘You'll have to ask her to explain,' he said.

‘Do not let her go,' Sister Luke told him, her voice firm. ‘Whatever it is, you need to fix it.'

Adam shook his head. ‘It can't be fixed.'