'Feeling better this morning?'
'I'm fine, just fine,' Anna said.
'Good.' Dr Carroll picked up her wrist and took her
pulse. Anna cursed as the stupid thing began to race.
He'd think he was making her nervous! It really wasn't
necessary to hold the patient's gaze quite so intently
while taking a pulse.
'Why don't you get a car?' he demanded.
She resented the inquisition. 'I prefer riding a
bicycle, and   —'
'And it's environmentally sound,' he said, anticipat-
ing her words with a certain wryness, yet not real
sarcasm. 'Very commendable, I'm sure, but not if you
kill yourself in the process.'

Judith Worthy lives in an outer suburb of Melbourne,
Australia, with her husband. When not writing, she
can usually be found birdwatching, or gardening. She
also likes to listen to music, and the radio, paints a
little, likes to travel, and is concerned about conserva-
tion and animal cruelty. As well as romantic fiction,
she also writes books for children.

Previous titles
CONDITION  CRITICAL
DOCTOR DARLING

CROSSROADS OF
THE HEART

BY
JUDITH WORTHY

MILLS & BOON LIMITED
ETON HOUSE     18-24 PARADISE ROAD
RICHMOND    SURREY    TW9 1SR

All the characters in this book have no existence
outside the imagination of the Author, and have no
relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same
name or names. They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the Author,
and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved. The text of this publication or
any part thereof may not be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
storage in an information retrieval system, or
otherwise, without the written permission of the
publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall
not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold,
hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior
consent of the publisher in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and
without a similar condition including this condition
being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First published in Great Britain 1992
by Mills & Boon Limited
© Judith Worthy 1992
Australian copyright 1992
Philippine copyright 1992
This edition 1992
ISBN 0 263 77593 3

Set in 10 on 12 pt Linotron Times
03-9203-52806
Typeset in Great Britain by Centracet,  Cambridge
Made and printed in Great Britain

CHAPTER   ONE

'How long is a year?' Meg Lester rolled her eyes at the
ceiling. 'Forever, in my reckoning, at least while that
man is around!'
Used to her flatmate's tendency to exaggerate, Anna
Mackay laughed. 'Come on, he can't be that bad!
There isn't a man alive who could faze you, Meg.'
She switched off the hairdrier and ran her fingers
testingly through her long brown hair. Newly washed,
it gleamed in the firelight which was also reflected in
her deep brown eyes, now glowing with a curiosity she
couldn't deny.
Meg swallowed the last of her cocoa and brandished
the mug. 'You wait! You'll find out, my girl. Dr Carroll
will be the bane of your existence in next to no time,
mark my words. And when you want my shoulder to
cry on, don't say I didn't warn you.'
She reached out to fling another log on the fire.
Sparks flew—as apparently they did between Meg and
the new doctor at Mount William Hospital where they
were both nurses, Anna mused wryly. She stretched
her long legs towards the blaze. If everything Meg had
told her was true, Dr Carroll had everyone he came in
contact with shivering in their shoes.
'I can't wait to meet this medical monster!' she
murmured. 'He's here for the whole year, you said?'
'The whole year,' echoed Meg gloomily. 'Twelve
whole months, fifty-two weeks,  three hundred and

sixty-five days—no, three hundred and sixty-six, seeing
it's Leap Year.' She groaned. 'It's a life sentence!'
'Not quite,' said Anna mischievously. 'You've
already done three weeks.'
Dr Carroll had arrived the week after Anna had left
on holiday, so she had not yet met the surgical registrar
who had come to replace a very popular doctor who
had gone overseas for a year. According to Meg, he
demanded the ultimate in efficiency, had everyone
running around in small circles to achieve it, and let
them know in no uncertain terms when he wasn't
satisfied. According to Meg, he had a very short fuse.
Anna took a lot of what her flatmate and nursing
colleague said with a few grains of salt, but she did feel
a tiny bit apprehensive. There must be something in
what Meg said. . . She sighed. Life had always been so
pleasant at Mount William, and she did not look
forward to any disruption of that harmony. She had
nothing against efficiency, but some people could be a
bit overbearing.
'Anyway, let's forget Carroll,' said Meg. 'Tell me all
about your trip. Did you meet any dishy men?'
'Hundreds,' drawled Anna, her smile teasing. 'But I
wasn't in the mood. . .'
Meg threw a cushion at her. 'I bet Fiji was nice and
warm, though.'
'Lovely! I could hardly bear to drag myself back to
winter.'
Meg pushed up the sleeves of her outsize pink
mohair sweater and leaned towards the fire. 'It's been
arctic here—or should I say antarctic?' She laughed.
'You know, when I decided to come to Australia I
expected it to be warm and sunny all the time, didn't
you?'

Anna shook her head. 'Not really, not in this part of
Victoria. Cam—my brother—had already lived here
for a couple of years, so. . .so Mum and I had a fair
idea what to expect.' She paused, annoyed at the
sudden lump in her throat, the slipping of control.
Meg looked sympathetically across at her friend. 'It's
OK, Anna, I understand. You're going to miss her
pretty badly for a long while, I expect. And without
the rest of your family. . .'
Anna stood up quickly. 'Let's have another mug of
cocoa, shall we? And then I'd better get to bed or I'll
never be up in the morning. Mustn't be late on my first
morning back.'
She left Meg taking up the needles to continue
knitting what looked like another outsize sweater in
the fluffy kind of yarn she favoured, and went along
the chill passageway to the kitchen. There was no
central heating in the old weatherboard house they
shared, so they spent most evenings at home in the
living-room with the open fire lit. Anna shivered as she
switched on the kettle and spooned cocoa into their
mugs. Winter in the Central Highlands could be every
bit as cold as home. It was no wonder Meg spent most
of her spare time knitting warm sweaters.
Anna heaved another deep sigh. What was she going
to do with her spare time now? She had felt restless
and aimless somehow since her mother had died a
couple of months ago. Moving in with Meg had helped,
especially in the beginning, but the holiday which was
supposed to be restorative had only made her feel more
restive than ever.
She had even begun to think of going back to
England, but she wasn't sure that was the solution.
She'd been away three years and most of her friends

were already married and scattered. She had few
relatives. Her only close ones were her brother Cam
and his wife and children, and they were in Canada
now. She didn't want to go there. Not because Canada
didn't attract her, but because she didn't want to be a
hanger-on, a spinster aunt trailing around after her
brother.
She hadn't really wanted to come to Australia, but
after her first stroke her mother had yearned to be near
her son and her grandchildren. Cam had written glow-
ingly of Mount William, with its tree-lined streets and
restored colonial buildings. It was a fast-growing tourist
centre for the Grampians, and he had joined an
expanding computer firm there. There was a shortage
of nurses at the hospital, he'd told Anna, emphasising
that it was expanding rapidly too and offered wide-
ranging medical services.
Anna stared at her reflection in the uncovered
kitchen window. She looked as though she was outside.
And I am, she thought, I'm an outsider. I don't belong
here or there or anywhere. I'm not even doing what I
wanted to do.
The kettle boiled and she reached up and pulled the
blind down over the window. Tears blinded her for a
moment, but they were not so much tears of grief for
her mother as the uncharacteristic bitterness which
seemed to be pervading her lately. When her mother
was still alive, needing her, Anna had felt her life had
some purpose and she'd nursed no regrets, but lately
she had begun to feel that life was passing her by. She
was twenty-four, and the future seemed to have no
tangible shape, nothing in it to look forward to.
'Don't be such a misery,' she muttered, shaking
biscuits out of a packet on to a plate. 'Stop brooding

and pull yourself together. Something will turn up. . .'
She laughed softly, ironically, at her own optimism.
She clutched the two mugs of steaming cocoa in one
hand, the plate of biscuits in the other, and strode
resolutely back to the living-room. She mustn't let Meg
see her feelings too often. Meg was kind, but there was
nothing more she could do to help.
The next morning was fine, but icy. Meg was working
a middle shift, so Anna cycled to the hospital. The
house they rented was a couple of miles out of town,
and, although Meg had a car, Anna preferred to use a
bicycle herself, except in very bad weather when she
took the car if Meg didn't need it, or went with her if
Meg was leaving at the same time anyway.
Wrapped up in a thick sweater, her green parka and
the matching beret and gloves Meg had knitted her,
she kept her head down against the cold wind. Today
the road was a little treacherous, with black ice appear-
ing every now and then to catch the unwary, and twice
she nearly skidded into the verge. There were a few
other houses scattered along the road, some well set
back on smallholdings of only a few acres, but there
was no traffic at that early hour of the morning, with
the sun barely up. She did not in fact see a soul until
she came up to the nursery.
Mr Lattimer was unloading plants and gave her a
cheery wave and greeting. Anna paused for a few
moments.
'The holiday was great, thanks,' she said in answer
to his question. 'A bit warmer than it is here!'
The old man glanced at the sky with disgust. 'Don't
know what's going on up there,' he remarked darkly.
'Weather's not behaving the way it ought—cold when

it ought be warm, dry when it ought to be wet. Plants
don't know when to flower and fruit. I reckon that
greenhouse effect is on us already.'
'Could be,' Anna agreed.
'Normally I'm getting my tomatoes ready to go
outside by now,' said the nurseryman, 'but this
year. . .' He shook his head. 'This is a real cold snap,
and goodness knows what's in front of us, what with
that hole in the ozone.'
Yes, thought Anna with a sudden sinking of spirits
again, who knows what's in front of us?
'Well, I'd better be going,' she said. 'Mustn't be late
on my first morning back at work.'
'Here,' said Mr Lattimer abruptly, and shoved a pot-
plant at her, 'cheer the place up a bit with a few
flowers. These'll last longer than a vase of cut blooms.'
While she thanked him, he stowed the largish terra-
cotta pot of freesias in her handlebars basket. He often
gave her a bunch of flowers, and despite her frequent
protests would never let her pay for them. He'd been
her patient once, needing careful nursing after a car
accident, and he insisted it was due to her he'd been
able to go back to work. Anna's insistence that she was
only one of a team did not move him at all, so she
accepted his floral expressions of gratitude graciously.
She cycled on with the heavy perfume from her gift
wafting back in her face. She smiled a little as she
recalled Meg's warning as she'd gone off to bed last
night.
'Don't forget, watch out for Dr Carroll!'
I will, Anna thought, you bet I will! She was just as
intrigued this morning at the thought of this ogre as
she had been last night, and was trying to picture him
from Meg's scathing description.  She slowed at the

crossroads where she had to turn right and head for
town, and noticed a car in the distance, but it was far
enough away to give her plenty of time to negotiate the
junction. That was, if it hadn't been for the ice.
Right in the middle of the intersection she went into
a skid on an unseen patch of black ice that demanded
all her skill to keep the bicycle under control. As she
slewed wildly across the treacherous road surface, she
caught her breath, certain she was going to fall off, and
at the same time was deafened by the screeching of
brakes as the car loomed up beside her and she went
flying through the air accompanied by the pot of
freesias, while the bicycle careered off on its own, as
did her beret.
'Stupid bloody wench!'
A couple of seconds later Anna, spreadeagled on the
grassy verge, looked up into angry grey eyes which
immediately swam before her. Something cool and soft
lay on her cheek, and as she tried to lift a hand to
brush it off another hand, large with warm fingertips,
intervened. Anna glimpsed a crushed freesia bloom in
his fingers, moaned softly and passed out.
When she came to she was still lying on the ground,
but there was a blanket over her, and she was lying on
another. She seemed to be quite alone. She lifted her
head gingerly, found that it hurt and she felt nauseous,
so sank back again. She had glimpsed the car parked a
few yards away, but there was no sign of the occupant,
the owner of the grey eyes, the man who had called
her. . . Anna's skin prickled in indignation. Anybody
could fall foul of black ice, and he must have been
travelling too fast, especially coming up to a cross-
roads. . . She tried again to get up.
'Don't move!'

The command was a whip crack on the cold air, the
steely Australian male voice so authoritative that she
obeyed. He must have been in the car and the angle of
it had concealed him from her. Now he was standing
over her.
'How are you feeling?' He squatted beside her, and
eye contact with him made her feel dizzy again.
'I'm all right. . .' she protested, preparing to throw
the blanket off, but she was thwarted by strong arms
which insisted she lie prone.
'You've done one stupid thing today, don't com-
pound it with another,' the motorist said scathingly.
'You might have injured your spine. I've rung for an
ambulance on the car-phone. It should be here soon.'
'The ice,' she said. 'I skidded on black ice. . .'
'You came out of that side-road without looking
right or left,' he accused.
'I did! But anyway, there's never any traffic at this
time of the morning.' Indignation made her add,
'You're supposed to slow down at crossroads.'
He was standing over her again, a tall, intimidating
figure, with broad shoulders silhouetted against the
sky, his features rugged like the mountains behind him,
dark brown wavy hair lifting in the slight breeze, and
with a kind of wild and lonely look about him, Anna
thought, then wiped the thought. Was she delirious?
He was a rude, abrasive individual, not some romantic
Heathcliff figure, for heaven's sake! But he was con-
cerned about her. . . No, he was just doing the right
thing while regarding her as a nuisance, and a stupid
wench at that!
'I'm sorry,' she said. Then, 'Look, I'm sure there's
nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.' She raised her
head again, and this time a shaft of pain shot through

it and she fell back. He knelt beside her quickly and
she felt warm fingers clasp her wrist. Her pulse beat
raggedly against his touch.
'Concussion,' he said, his voice not quite so abrasive.
'I suspect you were hit by the flowerpot. You were all
over freesias, and you've still got potting mix on your
face.'
The ludicrousness of it had evidently not struck him,
but Anna felt a smile starting. 'My poor freesias,' she
muttered, and then a possibility occurred to her. 'Are
you a doctor?'
He nodded. 'Now, don't move any more. I don't
think there are any bones broken, but it's better to be
sure than sorry. We'll get you to the hospital and
X-rayed and then we'll know. So just lie quiet, there's
a good girl.'
I don't know him, Anna thought fuzzily, her brain
not working as sharply as usual. He's not one of the
town GPs. . .
Her thoughts were cut short by the arrival of the
ambulance. In her absence there had obviously been
changes, and she did not recognise the two young
paramedics who eased her gently on to a stretcher and
carried her into the ambulance, but to her surprise they
knew the motorist.
'How'd it happen, Dr Carroll?' one young man
asked.
Anna's brain absorbed his name with a jolt that
made her blood pound. Dr Carroll! Surely not. . .oh,
no, it couldn't be, but it must be. . . And her first
encounter with him had to be like this! She squirmed
under her blanket and did not, as she had intended,
tell the ambulance men she was a nurse at the hospital.
She could just imagine the kind of look she'd get from

Dr Carroll. It was going to be bad enough when he did
find out.
'My bike—what about my bike?' she managed to say
as a sudden anxiety over it pushed other thoughts
aside.
'I'll see to it,' Dr Carroll said brusquely, and the
next moment the ambulance doors were shut tight and
she was on her way to the hospital.
Meg was right, she thought, he isn't exactly charm-
ing. Stupid wench indeed! The recollection made her
flush with indignation all over again. She gritted her
teeth and clenched her fists. If Meg was only half right
about him, and Anna was willing to believe now that
she was, Dr Carroll was never going to let her forget
this incident. He didn't have even a glimmer of a sense
of humour. What a way to start!
The ambulance was at the hospital within minutes
and Anna was swiftly transferred from it to the casualty
department. 'Good grief!' exclaimed the sister in
charge, Cheryl Walker. 'It's you! This is a funny way
to return from holidays! What happened?'
'I got knocked down by a car,' Anna groaned. 'There
was black ice on the road and I skidded.'
'Riding your bike, I suppose,' said Cheryl. 'Daft
thing to do in this weather.' She was another Pom,
from Cheshire.
'More than daft—downright dangerous.' The iron-
clad voice was Dr Carroll's. 'She's lucky to be alive—
careering all over the road and not looking where she
was going. I could have killed her!'
'Oh, hello, Dr Carroll.' Cheryl's voice took on a
slight edge and she directed a meaningful glance at
Anna. Then what he had said sank in. 'It was you who
knocked Anna down?' She was aghast.

He was standing there so rigidly, Anna thought, as
to be almost inanimate.
He said, 'Unfortunately, yes. I don't think there's
much damage, slight concussion maybe, but we'll soon
see.'
Anna writhed under his gaze, hardly daring to meet
those flinty grey eyes that raked her face and shrank
her self-assurance to nil.
'Poor old Anna,' clucked Cheryl sympathetically.
'Imagine arriving as a casualty on your first day back at
work!' Her eyes sparkled with amusement. At least she
could see the funny side of it. 'If you're going to be out
of action, Simone'll have to manage your ward for a
bit longer, I suppose.'
Anna swallowed. The cat was out of the bag now.
Dr Carroll was not slow. As though Anna wasn't
capable of answering for herself, he said, 'She works
here?'
Cheryl's eyebrows lifted. 'Oh, didn't she tell you?
Sister Mackay is in charge of Women's Surgical. She's
just  back  from   holidays  today.   What   a  thing  to
happen	' Her explanation broke off as he snapped
an impatient look at her.
Then he considered Anna for a long moment, before
saying, 'I see.'
Anna knew she was damned. His eyes said it. He
was going to give her hell, worse hell than maybe he
ordinarily would have done, because he'd reckon she'd
earned it. Stupid bloody wench, that was what he
thought of her.
And the torment was starting right now. If she'd
hoped to escape seeing Dr Carroll again, she had of
course hoped in vain. If she'd hoped he would leave
her treatment to someone else, she had again hoped in

16	CROSSROADS  OF THE HEART
vain. Evidently he was anxious to make sure personally
that his victim was not badly hurt. No doubt worried
about his insurance, Anna thought grimly, as she was
wheeled away to have her spine X-rayed and steeled
herself to undergo the ministrations of the redoubtable
Dr Carroll. There was just one thing Meg had not
mentioned about him—that he was rivetingly hand-
some, that even when he was angry, as he certainly was
with Anna, his deep-set grey eyes had a spine-tingling
effect that was more than a little disconcerting.

CHAPTER   TWO

ANNA felt a fool. And a fraud. She had a few grazes
and a couple of bruises that were going to develop in
Technicolor, but the X-rays had shown no fractures or
internal injuries. She had been lucky to fall on springy
grass in soft earth, and the flowerpot had merely grazed
her temple. But Dr Carroll had insisted she be put to
bed and kept in overnight for observation. He made
no bones about her good luck.
'Thank your lucky stars you fell where you did,' he
said when he had thoroughly examined her for external
injuries, an examination which for some reason embar-
rassed her. 'And the flowerpot didn't catch you more
than a glancing blow.'
Relieved, Anna couldn't help grinning. 'Wait till I
tell Mr Lattimer!'
'Who is?' he queried, drawing the sheet up over her,
and leaving her skin still tingling, even from the purely
clinical touch of his hands.
'Lattimer's Nursery. Maybe you don't know it. Mr
Lattimer often gives me flowers. Today it was a pot-
plant. . .well, bulbs. . . Oh, what a shame they were
ruined. . .' She wavered as Cheryl had done under his
solid stare. His eyebrows were thick and dark, almost
meeting. His mouth was firm, set in deep creases, and
belonged, Anna thought, to someone who didn't waste
words.
He had left her abruptly once satisfied she was all in
one piece—and not likely to sue him for negligence,

Anna decided wryly—and she had meekly submitted
to the ministrations of her colleagues for the first time
in her life. They had taken her to a small unoccupied
ward and fussed over her—unnecessarily, she pro-
tested, but as reaction to the accident set in she felt
suddenly fragile and was comforted by all the attention.
Aided by a sedative, she slept for some hours. When
she woke she was at first at a loss, then, recognising
her surroundings, she tried to get out of bed, but a
weakness seemed to have gripped her and she fell back
against the pillows. As she remembered the events of
the morning, she covered her face with her hands in
dismay.
Presently Meg came in, all sunny smiles and jocular.
'Well, well, get you!' she ribbed. 'Imagine being run
over by Carroll himself! He must have been livid. Your
life won't be worth living now.' She laughed at the face
Anna pulled, and perched on the end of the bed.
'Actually the whip hand might be yours—every time
he gets nasty you could threaten to sue.'
'How could I? I'm not hurt,' Anna protested weakly.
Suing someone was not something she would want to
do anyway.
'Well, your bike's a write-off.'
'How do you know?'
'The police brought it round to the house just before
lunch. It'd cost more to repair than buying a new one,
they said. You ought to get him to pay.'
'I think he might—argue the toss,' Anna said,
shrinking from even tackling Dr Carroll over it. 'He
said it was my fault.'
'Was it?'
'Well, I suppose it was, partly. He said I wasn't
looking, but I did, both ways, before I started across

the intersection. I'd seen the car in the distance, but it
must have come up pretty fast, and when I skidded on
the ice. . .' Anna shrugged. 'It all happened so quickly.
I'm just glad it wasn't worse.'
'Sounds as though he was to blame, if you ask me,'
said Meg with some satisfaction. 'Of course that'll
make him even tetchier. He'd hate being in the wrong.'
She glanced at the bedside table. 'Say, who brought
you flowers?'
'Flowers?' Anna hadn't noticed. 'No one's been but
you. . . Well, I suppose while I was asleep someone
might have. . . I don't know, Meg.' Her eyes focused
on the tumbler full of pale cream flowers and for the
first time she was aware of their distinctive perfume.
'Freesias,' she murmured, and the astonishing thought
entered her mind that Dr Carroll might have brought
them. Don't be daft, she chided herself. Why on earth
would he do that?
'Maybe you have a secret admirer,' said Meg. She
glanced at her watch. 'I'd better go. I promised Valda
I'd only be fifteen minutes—we've got every bed
occupied. Thank goodness the football season's almost
over! What those local yokels do to their knees, elbows
and collarbones defies description.' She rose and
looked anxiously at Anna. 'Sure you're all right?'
'Positive. It's a lot of fuss about nothing.'
Meg gave her hand a squeeze. 'You know, when I
saw your mangled bike and there was no you, I nearly
flipped. Don't take any chances, Anna. Stay here till
Carroll says you can go. Concussion's not funny, you
know.'
When she'd gone, Anna stared for a few moments at
the freesias.   It was just a coincidence,  of course.

Freesias were common as weeds at the moment. One
of the nurses must have put them there.
A few minutes later a nurse came in to check on her.
It was one of her friends, Sally Hunter. Anna accepted
her teasing in good grace, realising that her spill was
going to provoke more than a few jokes at her expense
until some other event eclipsed it.
Sally plumped pillows and straightened covers and
asked if she wanted anything to eat. Anna wasn't
hungry. She said she'd wait until tea time.
'I dare say Dr Carroll will be round to see you later,'
Sally said. 'He popped in earlier, but you were still
asleep. Quite a few people have been asking after you.'
'Who brought the flowers?' Anna asked casually.
Sally shook her head. 'Don't know. Probably one of
the other nurses—we had lots over today.' She turned
as she went out. 'Use your bell if you want anything.
Just because you're staff it doesn't mean you can't have
service!'
'Thanks!' Anna felt very peculiar being a patient. It
was the first time ever, she realised.
A few more of her colleagues dropped in over the
next little while, but there was no sign of Dr Carroll,
and eventually she slept.
She woke next morning feeling much better and
ready to go home—or to start work. It really was a
fuss over nothing, she thought crossly when the nurse
in charge insisted she wait until Dr Carroll had said she
could be discharged.
'It'd be more than life was worth to let you go
without permission,' she said. 'He'll be round shortly.'
So Anna waited impatiently, and finally her door
opened and he came in. She had been ready to take
him to task, to demand that he discharge her at once,

but all her fire seemed to evaporate when he appeared.
He crossed to the bed, looking more formidable than
ever in a white coat.
'Feeling better this morning?' he greeted her tersely,
but kindly enough.
'I'm fine, just fine,' Anna said.
He looked down at her. 'Headache?'
'No.'
'Dizzy?'
'Not now.'
'Good.' He picked up her wrist and took her pulse.
Anna cursed as the stupid thing began to race. He'd
think he was making her nervous! It really wasn't
necessary to hold the patient's gaze quite so intently
while taking a pulse.
He dropped her hand back on the coverlet. 'Well, I
think you can go home now. But take care. With
concussion you can get delayed reactions even after a
few days. Any sign of a headache, dizziness, nausea,
any other unusual symptoms, report it at once. OK?'
'Of course,' said Anna, through gritted teeth. She
did, after all, know the symptoms of concussion.
He was still looking steadily at her. 'My insurance
will replace your bicycle. You should have a new one
delivered in a few days. The shop will phone you.'
Anna was speechless. 'That's—that's very	'
He brushed aside her attempt to thank him. 'I don't
accept that I was in any way to blame, but I've given
you the benefit of the doubt so far as the insurance is
concerned. I dare say you didn't have the bike
insured?'
'No. . .'
'I would suggest that you don't attempt to ride for a

week at least,' he went on, 'and then not on days when
there's likely to be ice on the roads.'
'I haven't got any other means of transport,' Anna
protested. 'Except when Meg doesn't want her car.'
'Why don't you get a car?' he demanded.
She resented the inquisition. 'I prefer riding a bicy-
cle. It's good exercise, for one thing, and	'
'And environmentally sound, ' he said, anticipating
her words with a certain wryness, yet not real sarcasm.
'Very commendable, I'm sure, but not if you kill
yourself in the process. '
'I'll be much more careful in future, ' Anna said,
astonished at her own meekness. She adopted a brisker
tone. 'Good. Well, if I can go now... I might as well
start work. I bet they're short-staffed as usual on my
ward	'
'Not until tomorrow,' he interrupted. 'And then only
if you haven't developed any worrying symptoms in the
meantime. I suggest you take it easy for the rest of
today. Your friend Sister Lester will be here shortly to
take you home, and I'll pick you up in the morning.'
'But. . .' Anna was completely bowled over again.
'I don't know how else you intend to get to work,'
he said, 'while Sister Lester needs her car to get here
later in the day, unless you intend to wake her up early
or arrange for someone else to give you a lift. Since I
live more or less in your direction, it might as well be
me.'
His logic was faultless. She couldn't expect Meg,
who didn't get home until midnight, to get up at dawn
just to drive her to work. 'You seem to have worked it
all out,' she said resignedly.
'Which is more than you seem to have done,' he
commented.

Anna accepted the rebuke. 'It just seems a bit of a
cheek to expect you to. . .'
His grey eyes were steady, penetrating. 'I do have
some sense of responsibility,' he said, 'even if I wasn't
to blame. And your place is only a couple of miles out
of my way.'
Arrogant! she thought, prickling with annoyance
again. Condescending too. He didn't want her to think
he was putting himself out for her. Then she softened
a little. He could easily have been a lot less concerned
about her.
'Well, I'm grateful,' she said. 'Thank you.' At least
it was only a short distance from Meg's house to town,
so she wouldn't have to suffer the nervous tension of
riding with him for long. And it was only until she got
her new bike.
Meg was all agog when she drove Anna home.
'You've really turned him on his ear,' she crowed.
'Serve the so-and-so right!'
'No doubt he'll have his revenge,' Anna commented
gloomily. 'I dare say I'll be required to pay for it.' She
glanced at the bunch of freesias tucked into her bag,
wondering why she had bothered to bring them home.
'Poor you!' said Meg, with a grimace. She added,
grudgingly, 'I must say he sounded quite nice when he
rang up and asked if I could come and fetch you home.
It seems he does have his moments!' She gave Anna a
speculative look. 'You'd better watch out in more ways
than one!'
Anna treated that remark with the contempt she
thought it deserved, and Meg laughed.
It was just after Meg had left for the hospital that
afternoon that there was a knock at the door. Anna

found Ned Lattimer on the doorstep with a big bunch
of flowers and a pot of primroses.
'Seeing the freesias brought you bad luck,' he said
with a grin, 'I thought maybe you'd rather have prim-
roses. They're the real thing, Sister, genuine English
primroses.'
He thrust the pot of delicate pale creamy blooms
into her hands, and Anna almost wept at his good-
heartedness.
'Ned, I can see they are. Oh, how lovely! But you
shouldn't have. . .'
'Thought they might cheer you up,' he said. 'Coming
off your bike like that must have churned you up a bit.'
'How did you know?' asked Anna.
'That doctor friend of yours told me when he came
in for the freesias. He seemed real upset that the pot
was smashed and the flowers crushed. I told him no
worries, I'd replace it, but he still insisted on taking a
bunch of blooms and paying for them.' He grinned.
'Reckon he might have a bit of a shine on you, Sister.'
Anna was startled and astonished. 'Oh, no—no,
definitely not, Ned. He was the one who knocked me
down. . .'
'Yeah, so he said. Churned him up no end too, I
reckon.'
She laughed awkwardly. 'Well, I assure you there
was no personal reason for the flowers. He just felt—
er—responsible for my losing the first lot.'
Ned was backing off the veranda. 'Well, got to finish
my deliveries. Be seeing you. Take care, won't you?'
'Thank you! Ned, thank you so much,' Anna called
after him, quite overcome with his gift, and what he
had revealed. Did Dr Carroll have a soft spot under all

that armour plating after all, or was it just a strong
sense of duty?
Anna waited in some trepidation for Dr Carroll to call
for her the next morning. She half hoped he would
have forgotten and she would have to ring for a taxi,
but on the dot of seven he was tooting his horn. She
was on at seven-thirty. He evidently wasn't going to be
the cause of her being late.
Meg had come home last night dead tired and was
still fast asleep, so Anna let herself quietly out of the
house and ran down the path to the waiting car.
'Good morning,' she said brightly, getting in beside
him.
'Morning,' he replied, and Anna guessed his clipped
greeting was a signal that he did not want chirpy
conversation from her. Well, that was fine so far as she
was concerned.
'Feeling OK?' he asked in a rather depersonalised
way.
'Yes, thanks.'
He glanced at the dressing on her temple. 'Watch
that graze. Don't let it get infected.'
'No. . .'
'You'll have to keep off the wards if you do.'
'Of course.' So his remark wasn't concern for her,
but for hospital hygiene.
As they passed Lattimer's Nursery, Anna couldn't
help saying, 'Ned brought me some flowers yesterday
and a new pot-plant. Primroses. . .' It was poking out
of her bag, but Dr Carroll didn't even glance at it, or
comment. She wanted to thank him for the freesias but
wasn't sure how to. Would he have expected her to
guess? And surely he must realise that Ned would

mention his having been to the nursery. But what
should she say. . .?
Finally, as they reached the crossroads and he
stopped, she blurted out, 'Thank you for the freesias.'
For a moment she thought she'd put her foot in it,
then something almost like a smile flickered fleetingly
across his lips and he seemed momentarily
embarrassed.
'I did wonder. . .' she ventured. 'But Ned mentioned
you'd been there. It was a nice thought, but you didn't
have to. . .'
He looked as though he did not appreciate being
accused of harbouring nice thoughts, and then all at
once his face relaxed. He said, deadpan, 'The insurance
company wouldn't run to replacement flowers, I'm
afraid.'
Heavens, he has got a sense of humour, Anna
thought, relieved, but he chooses to keep it well
hidden. The discovery pleased her. 'Well, thank you
anyway,' she said, and, sensing he was impatient with
gratitude, fell silent again for want of something else to
say.
The mountains were a deep blue backdrop to the
town, and she let her eyes drift across the scene, trying
to concentrate on the picturesque features of the
landscape in order to neutralise the tension she felt
being next to the somewhat enigmatic Dr Carroll.
Suddenly he spoke. 'You're English? Where from?'
'Sussex. Ever been to Bognor?'
There was a flicker of interest in his sideways glance.
'A few years ago I think I went just about everywhere.
How long are you here for?'
'If you mean in Australia, I emigrated three years
ago. If you mean Mount William, I don't know—I

might move on soon. . .' Anna stopped. What had
possessed her to confide that when she hadn't even
expressed her feelings to Meg, and she didn't particu-
larly want the hospital to know yet that she was
restless? She went on hastily, 'You're just here for a
year while Russ Phillips is away, I take it.'
'If I can stick it that long,' he said.
Anna's eyebrows rose. 'What's the problem? Is
Mount William Hospital not to your taste? Or is it the
town?'
He took the car just a shade too fast across the
bridge over the river that skirted the town. He was a
good driver, she judged, with good reflexes, but per-
haps a shade impatient.
'I'm not a country boy,' he confessed.
'Then why did you take this job?'
They were in the main street and heading up the hill
to the hospital. Dr Carroll glanced at her, or, she
thought, glared. 'Personal reasons.' He was curt as
though her question had been intrusive.
However, she hardly heard his answer. She was
suddenly sure he hadn't noticed the traffic lights ahead.
They were, she was afraid, going to go through a red
light. Unable to hold back, she exclaimed, 'Stop! It's
on red!'
The car slammed to a halt, jerking her briefly against
the restraining seat-belt.
'I can see that,' Dr Carroll said calmly, and Anna
felt a fool, a silly panicky fool. Maybe he always
screamed up to traffic lights like that. He turned to
look at her. 'You are edgy. Maybe you should have
taken another day off.'
'No, I'm fine. . .' But she was shaking inside.
She was glad when he swung the car into the doctors'

car park and she parted company with him. Perhaps
the start to her day hadn't been as calamitous as
yesterday, but it had left her feeling decidedly nerve-
racked. Dr Carroll was certainly a puzzling man. For a
few minutes in the car he'd been almost conversational,
but then had seemed to regret the lapse. Anna
shrugged as she went up to her ward. She had neither
the time nor the inclination to try and analyse the man.
Just let him keep out of her hair while she was on duty,
that was all.
Simone Rosario was relieved to see Anna back. 'It's
been hectic,' she admitted. 'And keeping one jump
ahead of Doc Carroll requires mental agility of
Olympic standard!'
'He seems to have acquired quite a reputation,'
Anna commented.
'He keeps everybody on their toes,' Simone said.
'And woe betide you if you do something he doesn't
like.' She inclined her head smilingly. 'But to give him
his due, he's a first-rate medico, and the patients love
him. Funny, isn't it, how a man can be a right pain to
staff and practically Father Christmas to the patients?'
She nodded slowly. 'He's a perfectionist, that's the
trouble. He expects the same high standards he sets
himself from others, and he's aggravated by lapses.'
'In medicine that's surely a commendable attitude,'
Anna said. 'But I know what you mean—it can be
damned hard to live up to that sort of expectation.' She
smiled. 'I gather you don't altogether share the general
awe of him, or wish him further away.'
Simone's face turned faintly pink. 'If you must know,
I think he's probably a pretty wonderful person if you
could only get to know him. But I've got a snow flake's

chance in hell of ever doing that. I'm just another
robot to him.'
'Does everyone always call him Dr Carroll?' Anna
enquired, since she had become used to the casual
practice of using first names even among the medical
staff, at least off the wards.
'His name's Scott,' Simone told her. 'But I've never
heard anyone except the other doctors use it.' She
waved a sheaf of notes and went through the office
door. 'Come on, I'd better fill you in on who's what.
We're pretty full at the moment—all new patients too.
And a range of medical conditions such as you never
did see! Doc Carroll will be round at ten, and I expect
he'll want you to shadow him today. I'll get the
paperwork up to date and keep an eye on the others, if
you like.' She pushed open one of the ward doors, and
whispered, 'We've a new junior who keeps dropping
things and losing things and getting in a tizz, but when
she gets over her nerves she'll be good. That's her over
there, bed-making with Fran. Liz Farmer's her name.'
Anna was introduced to Liz, who smiled broadly,
answered Anna's casual questions about how she was
enjoying her job, and then as she turned round to
continue making the bed, tripped over the end of a
blanket and fell flat on her face.
'Oh, Liz. . .!' exclaimed Simone, and burst out
laughing, as did Fran and the four patients in the ward.
Anna couldn't help smiling too, especially as Simone
had just been telling her that Liz was accident-prone.
Liz herself seemed to be convulsed with either laughter
or tears, and Anna suspected it might be tears she was
trying to disguise.
'May I ask what the joke is?'
At the sound of the deep male voice, Anna and the

other two nurses wheeled round. Dr Carroll's grim
countenance showed no sign of amusement. The grey
eyes lasered straight at Liz.
'What's that girl doing on the floor?' he demanded,
pointing an accusing finger at the unfortunate Liz, who
had been about to get to her feet, but who now froze,
half prone.
Simone and Fran were both looking at Anna, who
swallowed hard, realising that now she was back and in
charge, she was expected to answer.
Calmly she faced the registrar. 'She tripped over,'
she said in smooth tones.
'Is that something to cause everyone else to fall
about laughing?' he rapped out.
'The way it happened was rather comical,' Anna
explained, not letting his piercing gaze intimidate her.
If there was going to be a harmonious working relation-
ship between them, it was going to be out of mutual
respect, not as a result of her being browbeaten.
' His eyebrows surged together. He looked at Liz,
who seemed to be cowering on the floor. 'Get up, girl!
And get on with whatever you were doing. This is a
hospital, not an entertainment centre. There are sick
people here requiring your attention. I suggest you
keep your mind on the job you came here to do, if you
want to keep it.' He switched his gaze back to Anna,
who, though seething inwardly, nevertheless said in
cool tones,
'What can I do for you, Dr Carroll? I wasn't expect-
ing you to come on rounds for another hour or so.'
She was aware of Liz, wide-eyed and white-faced,
scrambling up off the floor to help Fran finish off the
bed in utter silence, while Simone quietly melted away,
and the patients all seemed suddenly to have retreated

behind their books and magazines or had put their
earphones on. It was almost as though a screen had
been discreetly swung around her and Dr Carroll. He
was her problem now!
'I want to talk to you,' he said peremptorily. 'In your
office.'
Anna smiled. 'Of course.' She led the way out of the
ward and marched briskly along to the charge sister's
office. As he closed the door behind him, she said,
'Please sit down.' She remained standing herself.
He ignored the chair and perched on the edge of her
desk. He did not speak immediately, but seemed more
interested in examining her features. Suspecting that it
was his method of intimidating lesser mortals, Anna
steeled herself to make the opening remark.
'I haven't had time yet to review all the patients in
my ward,' she said. 'Sister Rosario was about to take
me round.'
His reply was the last thing Anna expected. 'Did you
enjoy your holiday?'
'Yes, thank you,' she replied warily. 'I went to Fiji.
It was warm and tranquil and I had a nice lazy time.'
'Well, I hope I shall be glad you're back.' Dr
Carroll's grey eyes threw out a steely challenge. 'I trust
it isn't normally as chaotic around here as it's been
these past three weeks.'
Anna stiffened defensively. 'Chaotic? I don't know
what you mean, Dr Carroll. Sister Rosario is very
efficient.'
His mouth quirked a little. 'Perhaps we have differ-
ent definitions of efficient, Sister.'
'Simone's workload was greatly increased while I
was away,' Anna pointed out, and forced a smile to
cover her real feelings.

He was not impressed. He stood up. 'Well, as I'm
here, I might as well see the patients.'
Anna's glance flicked to the clock on the wall. 'It's a
little early. Staff probably haven't finished giving medi-
cations yet.'
He was unperturbed. 'Since the majority of your
patients require little more than a social call from me
today, I don't think that will be a problem.' He gave
her a flat kind of smile. 'I've noticed a little sloppiness
in this ward which you might tighten up.'
Again she went rigid. 'Sloppiness? I should like you
to explain.'
'For instance, a tendency for nurses to be gossiping
and giggling when they should be concentrating on
laying up the medications trolley accurately,' he said.
'I'm sure no mistakes have been made,' said Anna,
fingers crossed.
'Maybe not, but the potential is there. They aren't
filing clerks in an office where it doesn't matter if a
letter is misfiled. If a mistake happens here it could be
a matter of life and death.'
'You don't need to tell me that,' Anna said coldly,
growing more and more incensed. What he was saying
was perfectly right, but he didn't have to be so high
and mighty about it. He might have grounds for
criticism, but his manner of conveying it was not the
kind to win friends and influence people.
There was a light tap at the door and Anna called,
'Come in!' hoping it might be someone to take this
irritating man away from her for a while at least. Her
good humour was fast evaporating and she was finding
it difficult to control her temper.
But it was only Simone, who glanced briefly, and to
Anna's eyes anxiously, from one to the other, before

she handed Anna the sheaf of patients' notes and
mumbled something about her needing them and that
the examination trolley was laid up. Anna silently
applauded Simone's forethought. She had anticipated
that Dr Carroll might want to do his round right away.
'Thank you, Simone,' she said. 'Dr Carroll is going
to do his round now, so if Fran isn't busy perhaps she
could accompany us.'
Simone vanished and Dr Carroll strode to the door
after her, clearly expecting Anna to follow, which she
did. Later, she thought, she would try and work out
tactics to cope with him. He wasn't the first incorrigible
fault-finder she'd ever encountered.
Although she was annoyed with him at the moment,
she was also intrigued. She was sure that matters were
not quite what they seemed. Her judgement of people
had always been pretty good, and there was definitely
something bugging this man, she decided. Instinct told
her that although he might be a perfectionist his
impatience and irritability were probably exacerbated
by something else, maybe something quite extraneous,
and deep-rooted. She smiled at herself. Psychoanalys-
ing everyone was one of her faults, but it sometimes
did prove helpful.
Head held high, she sailed past Dr Carroll into the
corridor as he held the door open. At least he had
some manners, she thought grimly. The notes Simone
had given her were in room order, so Anna headed
straight back to the first ward, where the registrar had
found her.
Fran and Liz had gone and the newly made bed sat
innocently by the window waiting for the next admis-
sion. Their entrance was regarded with interest by the
women in the ward. Anna smiled all round to convey

that all was well and there was no dissension, and Dr
Carroll stopped at the bed nearest the door.
'Good morning, Mrs Waite,' he greeted the stout
woman in it. 'How are you today?'
Good, thought Anna, he isn't one of those who say
'we'. She gave him a point, and drew the screens
around the bed. She glanced at the patient's notes
while he was making small talk and they waited for the
examination trolley. His bedside manner was friendly,
casual, without a trace of irritation or grumpiness, she
noted. Whatever was bugging him, it wasn't patients.
He had all the time in the world for them. Maybe he
just had it in for nurses. Unrequited love, jilted by a
nurse. . .her mind searched for reasons as her eyes
scanned the patient record. Mrs Waite had been admit-
ted for treatment of varicose ulcers on her left leg.
Suddenly the registrar's voice penetrated Anna's
concentration. 'Where's that trolley?' he demanded in
an impatient aside. 'I need to examine this woman's
leg.'
Anna swallowed hard, but didn't have to pray,
because at that moment Fran came in breathlessly with
the trolley. She looked rattled already and dropped the
first packet of sterile gloves on the floor as she opened
them. Dr Carroll looked daggers at her and Anna
quickly opened another pack. He gave her an 'I told
you so' kind of look which she returned unruffled, even
though he was getting to her again.
The examination proceeded swiftly, and Anna was
impressed with Dr Carroll's gentle handling of the limb,
the way consideration for the patient dictated his every
move. He replaced the bandage himself, then said, 'I
think we'll keep you in for a few more days, Mrs Waite.
The healing process is coming along nicely, but it'll be a

while yet before we can operate.' He turned to Anna.
'Make sure she sees the physio for massage to soften the
indurated area around the edge of the ulcer, and keeps
up her exercises.' He smiled at the patient. 'That's most
important, Mrs Waite—exercise.'
As they moved away, leaving Fran to draw back the
screens and follow, Dr Carroll said, 'Let me have her
diabetes progress chart later, will you? I suspect she's
not as stable as we'd like. We'll have to get her to lose
some more weight. You might tell her GP I'd like a
word with him too.'
'Yes, Doctor,' said Anna, and caught his eye. For a
moment she thought that he thought she was mocking,
but then to her amazement a glimmer of something
like humour appeared in the grey irises, as it had when
she'd thanked him for the freesias, and his upper lip
twitched as though repressing an involuntary smile.
He's human, she decided, with something like relief,
and this helped her to get through what otherwise
might have been a traumatic experience.
He didn't spare her, giving voice to criticisms often,
and showing his impatience both with her and Fran,
especially when an item was missing from the trolley
and he had to wait while Fran fetched the required
spatula. At the end, Anna was exhausted, but she had
made a mental note to be a perfectionist too. She'd
give him no grounds for complaint at all if she could
help it.
As they returned to her office, she said briskly, 'I'll
have someone bring you Mrs Waite's insulin chart, Mrs
Grey's X-rays and the pathology report for Miss
Gregory right away.'
Grey eyes roved over her face. Were they just a little
softer, she wondered, or was that imagination? And

36	CROSSROADS  OF  THE  HEART
what was that strange tingling sensation down her
spine? A symptom that had better be imagination too,
she thought, alarmed.
'And Mrs Gardiner's case history,' he reminded her
sharply. 'You forgot her—the patient with gallstones,
admitted two days ago. Of course, you weren't here
then, were you? You were falling off bicycles and
trying to get yourself killed.' Without waiting for a
reply, he marched off in the direction of his office.
Chagrined at her omission, minor though it was,
Anna drew her lips together tightly, wanting to spit.
Imagination, definitely, she thought, on both counts.

CHAPTER   THREE

'WELL, how was it? Did he eat you alive?' Meg came
in on a draught of chill night air, flung her bag on the
couch and herself after it.
'He tried,' said Anna, 'but didn't care for the taste!
Spat me out in a kidney bowl.'
Meg laughed, absently picked up her knitting and
carried on with it as though she'd been knitting all
evening. 'I was dying to come and see how you were
surviving,' she said, 'but it was hell on my ward today.
Just as well Carroll didn't show up, or I might have
resigned on the spot.' She looked sharply at Anna.
'Well, was I right or not?'
'You were right,' admitted Anna. 'He is scratchy,
pernickety and all that, but	'
'Oh, come on, Anna, you're not going to make
excuses for him!' Meg protested.
Anna put down the book she was reading and
yawned. 'I hadn't realised it was so late until you came
in. I'd better get to bed.'
'He's picking you up again tomorrow?'
'So he said—although, come to think of it, he didn't
mention the fact today. I hope he doesn't forget.'
'He won't! He's Mr Perfection himself, remember.'
Anna shook her head. 'He's as human as everyone
else, Meg, and probably fallible too. For instance, he
must have been speeding to have knocked me off my
bike.'

'You call that fallibility?' said Meg, disgusted. 'I call
it arrogance.'
Anna gazed for a moment into the dying embers of
the fire. 'No, I'm sure he's angry with himself about it,
and I'm also sure he sets as stringent standards for
himself as anyone else and punishes himself for not
living up to them just as harshly. It doesn't take five
minutes to realise what a skilled doctor he is, and Jill
from Theatre told me he's a first-rate surgeon.'
Meg clicked her needles and started another row.
'Well, I'll give you that. . .' She gave Anna a wicked
grin. 'I do believe you like the man!'
Anna's reply was a shade too prompt. 'I do not! But
I do think there's some underlying reason for his
abrasiveness,' she said. 'I don't think he's really like
that. He's so gentle with the patients, and it's not an
act.'
'You mean he just hates nurses!' exclaimed Meg.
'Why?' She nodded knowingly. 'Love-affair gone
wrong? Hey, that could be it, Anna. You might have
hit on something. Maybe a nurse let him down and
now he's taking it out on the rest of us. Trust you to
see that—you really ought to have been a psychiatrist!'
She added seriously, 'Have you thought any more
about going back to medicine?'
Anna swept her hair up and idly knotted it, then
pulled the knot undone and let the brown tresses fall
to her shoulders again. She shrugged. 'Yes, I've been
thinking about it quite a lot, but it's really too late,
Meg. I took up nursing instead meaning to stick with
it.'
'But really in your heart of hearts you always wanted
to study medicine,' insisted Meg. 'You know you still
hanker for it.  Well, now your mother. . .now you

haven't any ties or responsibilities, you could start
again and qualify. Why not?'
Anna stared at the fire and pulled her cardigan closer
around her. It was growing colder in the room. 'I'm
just not sure, Meg, that's why. To start all over
again. . . I'm not sure I've got what it takes.'
'Rubbish! Of course you have.'
Anna said, 'I feel so. . .so detached at the moment,
Meg.' She laughed ruefully. 'I'm just not used to
freedom, I suppose.'
Meg muttered and consulted her knitting pattern.
'Damn, I've done three rows too many without
decreasing!'
'Shall I make you a hot drink?' offered Anna, eager
to change the subject.
'If you're going to have one. While we drink it, you
can tell me everything that happened today. I'm dying
to know. Half an hour, that's all. I'm whacked myself.'
'Well, I did doze for an hour earlier,' confessed
Anna. 'I was exhausted when I got home, and I was
late too.'
While Meg unpicked the surplus rows, Anna made
the cocoa and carried the mugs back to the living-
room. She told Meg most of what had happened that
morning and caused her to laugh a great deal,
especially over poor young Liz's predicament.
It was well after midnight when Anna finally slid into
bed, but her brain was still active despite the hot drink
and the long arduous day. Instead of wakefully brood-
ing over Dr Carroll's brusqueness, however, she found
herself worrying about him. Which was ridiculous. He
was a grown man, at least thirty, and if something in
his personal life was making him difficult to get on with
it wasn't her business, and probably he would get over

it in due course anyway. She'd better just remember
that she wasn't a psychiatrist. Or maybe he was a boor,
and she was off her head looking for chinks in his
armour.
Anna drifted off eventually, and to her dismay
overslept. She had forgotten to set her alarm and it was
only subconscious programming that woke her. With
only five minutes before Dr Carroll would be calling
for her, she didn't have a hope of being ready in time.
Even as she was belting her dressing-gown around her
slim figure, she heard the car horn, and groaned. There
was nothing for it but to go out and tell him to go
without her. She would call a taxi.
Feeling as small as a cent piece, hair flying, Anna
ran down the path to the gate. Dr Carroll, seeing her
coming and noticing how she was dressed—or not
dressed—got out of the car. He looked her over with
more surprise than disapproval.
'What's this? Not ready?'
'I—I overslept,' she said breathlessly. 'I'm sorry. I'll
ring and let them know and call a taxi. I'll only be half
an hour late. You go.' She wanted to meet those scath-
ing grey eyes bravely, but her courage deserted her and
she stared at the mountains beyond his shoulder.
'Can you shower and dress in fifteen minutes?' he
asked curtly.
'I—I suppose so.'
'Then I'll wait. Go on! You'll catch your death
standing around in the cold. Go and get ready, and be
quick about it. No, don't argue. Just get a move on.'
'W-would you like to come in and wait?' she felt
obliged to say.
'No, I'll wait in the car,' he decided.
Anna flew back up the path. She had the quickest

shower of her life, and didn't bother with any make-
up. Not that she usually used much anyway, as her
smooth English skin, which still retained its rosy glow,
needed no enhancement, and her eyebrows and eye-
lashes were lush enough not to need mascara. Usually
she used only a pale lipstick and a touch of eyeshadow
in the evenings. She flung her hair into a swirl at the
back of her head and hastily filled it with pins to keep
it in place, then raced back to the car.
Dr Carroll had evidently gone for a stroll and was
striding back to the car as she reached it. She saw
binoculars hanging around his neck.
'Some interesting birdlife on the dam back there,' he
said, pointing over his shoulder towards the adjacent
farmland.
'You enjoy bird watching?' Anna queried as she got
into the passenger seat. She wished it were a topic she
knew something about.
'When I get the chance.' He was staring at her again.
'You looked quite different with your hair down.'
She was startled. But of course, the first time she
had run down to the car in her dressing-gown her hair
had been untidily flying about her shoulders. Neverthe-
less, for him to have remarked on it was unexpected,
puzzling.
'I assure you I'm still Anna Mackay,' she said, with
a smile. 'I didn't ring in my identical twin.'
A sound almost like a chuckle escaped his lips, and
Anna felt a strange warmth run through her. 'I'm
sorry,' she said again. 'I forgot to set my alarm, and I
was rather tired—Meg and I sat up late talking—she
doesn't get home until nearly midnight. . .' She broke
off. He wasn't interested in her small talk.
'You should have taken a few days off after that

spill,' he said. 'Are you sure you're all right? No nasty
headaches or spots before the eyes?'
'Nothing at all. I'm fine. It was probably just that the
first day back at work after a holiday is always a bit
tiring. One has to get back into gear.'
'You'll find yourself with a new patient this morning,'
he told her. 'We had an emergency appendicectomy
last night.'
'Oh, so you were called out. Was it the middle of the
night?'
'I didn't get to bed until four a.m.' He glanced across
at her. 'But I still remembered to set my alarm.'
Anna bit her lip. 'Then you haven't had much sleep.
I suppose you could have come in later today if it
hadn't been for picking me up.'
'I suppose I could,' he agreed, then added, 'But I
probably wouldn't have.'
Their conversation had brought them almost into
town. At least the journey was short enough for them
not to have to strain to make conversation, Anna
thought, but with a feeling almost like regret. A little
longer and she might be able to draw him out more. It
was a challenge she wouldn't have minded meeting.
She might not like the man, but she was none the less
intrigued by him.
'I've urged them to hurry up with your new bicycle,'
Dr Carroll said as he swung the car through the gates
into the staff parking area.
'Thanks.' Anna knew that was for his own sake as
much as hers. The sooner she was mobile again, the
better, so far as he was concerned.
Once she had left him, she did not see Dr Carroll
again that morning, for which she was glad. She had
enough problems to cope with without his barging in

and picking holes in everything! He was operating all
morning, she realised, consulting the lists, and that
meant she would have three new patients to accom-
modate by lunch time. Thankfully, she noted that they
were all routine minor gynaecological cases—two cur-
ettages and a tubal ligation. She marvelled at his ability
to bounce back after only a couple of hours' sleep.
Last night's appendicectomy, a young woman in her
early twenties, was looking cheerful and relieved, but
Mrs Gardiner, who had been admitted a few days
previously with inflammation of the gall bladder, and
who had had a drainage tube inserted, was giving Anna
some concern. Her temperature was still high and she
was showing signs of toxicity.
Anna called Tom Rolfe, one of the interns, to look
at the patient. She would rather have called Dr Carroll,
but she could not interrupt his operating schedule.
Tom was reassuring. 'I don't think there's too much
to worry about at this stage, but Dr Carroll might want
to increase the antibiotic dose.' He smiled at Anna a
little flirtatiously. 'I'll tell him if you like.'
'Thanks.' Anna wasn't entirely satisfied, but she
couldn't do anything else but keep the patient as
comfortable as possible and wait until Dr Carroll could
see her.
When he had not put in an appearance by mid-
afternoon, she decided she ought to remind him. To
her relief he came at once, and as soon as he saw Mrs
Gardiner, he drew Anna out into the corridor and
rounded on her furiously.
'Why wasn't I called earlier? What sort of a hospital
is this? Why do you think we have patients in here? So
we can keep an eye on them and treat them
promptly	'

Incensed, Anna broke in, 'You were in Theatre this
morning	'
'I was through by midday.' Grey eyes blazed at her,
but she was not to be annihilated.
'I asked Dr Rolfe to look at her, and he promised to
let you know	'
Again he cut her off. 'Well, he didn't. And you
should know better than to send verbal messages via
other people.' He glared, and Anna glared back. 'It's
now half past three.' He tapped his watch for emphasis.
'Surely you must have realised before this that I hadn't
got your wretched message?'
'I didn't realise how late it was,' Anna was forced to
confess. She added defensively, 'We've been rushed
off our feet this afternoon with three new patients,
and—and other problems. . .' This time she trailed
away, wilting a little under his scorn. She ought to have
known better than to make excuses.
'Most of your own making, I don't doubt,' he
surmised scathingly.
Hot words rose to her lips, but she swallowed them.
There was no point in aggravating him even more.
He stared at her wrath fully for half a minute, then
said, 'Well, we'd better see about trying to get her
temperature down, hadn't we?'
Anna imagined she heard his teeth grit. 'Yes,
Doctor,' she said.

'I still think he's probably quite nice underneath,' said
Simone later that week, as she and Anna were having
lunch together in the staff dining-room. She grinned.
'And I don't mean just what's under that immaculate
white coat, suit and underwear!'
For some reason Anna's cheeks flushed a little. It

had never occurred to her to think of Dr Carroll like
that.
'Not that I don't think he's sexy,' went on Simone
dreamily. 'It's funny, but even someone whose guts
you hate can stir up the old hormones in spite of it.'
'Well, I haven't noticed any stirring of my hor-
mones,' said Anna emphatically. 'They're quite static
where he's concerned.'
Simone sighed. 'What's the use anyway? He doesn't
even see us as sex objects like some of the other
medicos we have around. Interns—ugh! Who do they
think they are, God's gift to nurses?' She groaned over
her salad, and, munching a lettuce leaf, said thought-
fully, 'You know, I reckon, away from the hospital,
Doc Carroll might be quite a different person. . .but
how does one infiltrate his personal life?'
Anna grinned. 'Ask him to go to the cinema with
you!'
Simone hooted. 'Can you imagine?' She put on a
sultry voice. 'Oh, Doctor, I'm sure you're not sexist,
so I was wondering if you'd mind if I asked you to go
and see Jaws with me on Saturday night. Of course I'll
pay, and buy you a box of chocolates. I'll even drive
you home afterwards and give you a goodnight kiss, or
maybe	'
'Simone!' hissed Anna, convulsed. 'People can hear
you!'
Simone clapped her hand over her mouth. 'Sorry, I
forgot I wasn't playing for real.' She gave Anna an
inspired look. 'Hey, that would make a good sketch for
the hospital revue at Christmas, wouldn't it?'
'You wouldn't dare. He'd recognise himself,' Anna
objected.
'Of course he would. That's the whole idea. We take

off the medical staff. They're supposed to be good
sports about seeing their foibles lampooned. It's all in
good fun.'
Anna had a feeling that Dr Carroll might not see it
that way. But she could see that Simone would not be
dissuaded. She was a clever actress, especially in
comedy sketches, and usually brought the house down.
Anna could only hope for a change in Dr Carroll by
Christmas that would make taking the mickey out of
his crustiness out of date. What was he like away from
the hospital? she pondered, as she went back to the
ward. Like Simone, she was curious, but like Simone
she had no chance of ever finding out. If Dr Carroll
had a down on nurses for some reason, he was going
to steer well clear of them in his personal life.

When, only a couple of days later, Anna received a
call from the local bicycle shop, she was surprised and
delighted. She had not expected the claim to go
through so quickly. Dr Carroll clearly had strings he
could pull, which no doubt he was very glad of, she
thought, since it meant she was off his conscience all
the sooner.
She rang and told him she would not need a lift that
evening or the next morning as she would be picking
up the new machine after she came off duty, and riding
it home.
'Thank you for arranging it,' she said, and could not
resist adding, 'You must have quite a bit of clout with
your insurance company to have fixed it all up so fast.'
He didn't comment on that, but said admonishingly,
'I hope you'll take more care at the crossroads in
future.'
'I'll keep a good look out for you, don't worry,'

Anna retorted, then wished she hadn't been so flippant.
Speaking to him on the telephone somehow made him
seem less intimidating. She'd never have dared to say
that to his face. She added hastily, 'I think the cold
snap is over. We probably won't get any more black
ice on the roads.'
'I hope not.'
'Well, thank you again. . .' Anna felt awkward now.
'You're welcome, Sister.'
How do you end a conversation like this? she
thought, feeling jittery all at once. She muttered
another few words of appreciation, then said she'd
better go, and hung up. She felt it was very abrupt, but
what else could she say?
She felt a twinge of conscience when she entered the
bicycle shop in the main street of Mount William. The
accident had been partly her fault. . .But evidently Dr
Carroll's insurance company had been happy to pay
up. It was odd that they hadn't required any statement
from her about what happened, but since she had never
been involved in any such incident before, and she
assumed Dr Carroll knew what he was about, she had
not thought about it too much.
Bert Turner, the manager of Mount William Cycles,
knew Anna slightly since she had been in a few times
for items like a new saddle and tyre repair kit and to
have her headlamp fixed. He greeted her warmly, and
wheeled out the new bicycle.
'How do you like it?' he asked with as much pride as
though he'd designed and built it himself.
Anna was rather taken aback. She was no expert,
but she could tell it was a more sophisticated model
than her old bike, worth more than twice as much. 'It's
a beauty,' she said, 'but are you sure? It looks very up-

market, and I thought insurance companies only
replaced to equal value.'
Bert Turner was quizzical. 'Insurance company?'
'Dr Carroll's insurance company,' Anna explained,
surprised at the query. 'They agreed to replace my bike
because it was a write-off, but I wasn't expecting such
an expensive model.'
Bert shrugged. 'I don't know about that. All I know
is that Dr Carroll asked me to get this model. He
studied the catalogue and picked it out specially. I had
to get it sent up from Melbourne. He said you needed
something sturdy and reliable.'
Anna frowned. 'You mean he bought it?'
'Right. He was pretty upset about turning your old
one into scrap, and insisted you should have the best
model available.' He stopped suddenly. 'Hey, maybe I
wasn't supposed to tell you that. . .he did say don't
make a great fuss about it, just tell her it's OK. Didn't
you know he was paying for it himself?'
'No, I didn't, Bert,' said Anna, tight-lipped.
'Well, you should worry,' he said placatingly.
'You've got a smashing new bike, and I dare say he
can afford it.'
Anna looked at the bicycle indecisively. I can't take
it, she thought. I can't let him do this. . .but Bert was
eyeing another potential customer and obviously
anxious to leave her. He was waving a piece of paper
for her to sign. So she capitulated and signed, and
made up her mind to tackle Dr Carroll and insist on
paying at least half the cost of the new bicycle.
Outside the store, she climbed on. It took a moment
or two to fathom the gears, then she was away. There
was no doubt it was a vast improvement on her old

model, and she couldn't help being thrilled as she
cycled home with extraordinary ease.
The next day she took the bit between her teeth and
rang Dr Carroll. She would have gone along to his
office personally, but didn't have the courage. As she
had previously discovered, talking to him on the phone
was marginally easier than face to face.
When she revealed the purpose of her call, he
became very curt.
' I don't want to hear another word about it,' he said
emphatically. 'You've got your new bike. The matter
is closed.'
'But, Dr Carroll, I can't. . .' Anna protested.
'Don't argue, Sister. You've thanked me quite pro-
fusely enough already, and quite unnecessarily. I'm
sure you have more to do than persisting in trivial
discussion about it.'
Anna saw that she was unlikely to win, so she
reluctantly acceded and let the matter rest. Meg said,
'So why worry? He's salved his conscience. Don't spoil
his warm glow!'
Anna had to accept that. She tried to convince
herself that it was all right, really, since he had been in
the wrong—well, mostly—and that he had judged the
price of the new bike worth it to maintain his no-claims
status with his insurance company. If Bert Turner
hadn't let the cat out of the bag, she would never have
known. But he hadn't had to buy her such an expensive
replacement. She wondered why he'd done that.

'So how's it going?' Meg asked Anna one Saturday
morning a couple of weeks later, when the two of them
happened to have days off coinciding.
Anna poured coffee and pushed a mug across the

kitchen table to Meg. 'How's what going?' she asked
innocently.
'You know. Him! Dr Carroll. How are you getting
along with him?' Meg asked impatiently, assessing her
with a sharp look.
'Oh, him. . .' Anna was gently teasing. 'Fine. . .that
is in between times. Do you really want a catalogue of
all the things he's found fault with this past fortnight?'
Meg gave a sympathetic groan. 'No, thanks, I can
guess. We have to put up with him on Men's Surgical
too, you know.' She gave a small sigh. 'I was afraid
you might have found a way to tame him, and I was
consumed with envy!'
Anna nibbled a digestive biscuit. 'I think he needs to
find fault. That's the sign of a very insecure person,
you know, Meg. Some people can only live with
themselves if they can believe that other people have
as many or more shortcomings than themselves.'
'You're still into psychoanalysing him?' queried
Meg.
'I suppose I am. . .' Anna shrugged. 'But I'm not
likely to get to the truth.' She let wondering about the
man occupy her thoughts far too much, she knew, but
it was hard not to speculate. Something about him still
intrigued her.
'Have you thought any more about what you're going
to do?' Meg demanded.
'No, I haven't, not really,' Anna confessed. 'It's hard
to make decisions, Meg, and so much easier to go on
in the same way.'
Meg grew impatient. 'You're not realising your
potential, Anna. Nursing is all very well, it's a great
career, and you could become a DN or a Matron or
whatever, but I don't think that's where your talents

lie. Why don't you strike out and do what you really
want to do?'
'I don't know. . .' Anna said. 'Maybe I'm scared to
rock the boat.'
'Phooey,' said Meg bluntly. 'You just need a shove
in the right direction. I wish someone would give it to
you. You won't take any notice of me.'
'Give me time. . .'
Meg smiled contritely. 'Yeah, sure. . . I'm sorry,
Anna, I shouldn't needle you like that. It's just that I
hate to see you. . .' She broke off, biting her lip.
'Wasting my life? Surely I'm not doing that.'
'No. . .oh, forget it, Anna. You'll make your move
when the right moment arrives, I'm sure.' Meg changed
the subject. 'What's on the agenda this weekend?'
'I'm going bush walking with the club,' Anna told
her. 'You?'
Meg smiled suddenly and radiantly. 'I'm going to a
barbecue tomorrow evening with—guess who?'
'Peter Robbins,' said Anna promptly.
'How did you guess?' Meg looked affronted.
Anna laughed. 'You've been dotty about him for
months. So he's finally asked you out?' Dr Robbins
was a young visiting GP from the town's Banksia Park
Medical Centre, very good-looking, rather shy, and a
perfect foil for Meg's more outgoing nature. He looked
as though he needed mothering, Anna had always
thought, and Meg was just the person to oblige. She
wished them luck.
Meg was wide-eyed. 'Am I so transparent?'
'Like a window!'
Meg looked dreamily out of the kitchen window
towards the mountains. 'He's really awfully nice when
you get to know him, Anna.'

'I'm sure.'
Meg breezed on about Peter Robbins and Anna
responded as she was expected to, feeling to her
surprise a pang of envy. It would be nice to feel the
way Meg did about someone, and for that feeling to
have some hope of being reciprocated. While she had
been responsible for her mother, she had avoided
entanglements, knowing that nothing could come of
them. But now—now she was free—there wasn't a
man in her life she could even fantasise about. Sud-
denly she felt very lonely.
The feeling was pushed into the background next
day, however, when she set off to meet the bushwalk-
ing group she had joined when she had first arrived in
the Grampians. Always a keen walker, and finding
herself drawn to a landscape that in many ways seemed
familiar—just the name Grampians had a wonderful
liaison with home—Anna had immediately gravitated
to the bush walking club. Nobody else from the hospi-
tal, however, was a member, and that was a fact she
enjoyed. It was not that she wanted to get away from
her colleagues, but it was nice to have an activity she
enjoyed that did not involve talking shop.
They always met for the scheduled day's walk at a
prearranged spot, where they left cars and bicycles. It
had been a five-mile ride for Anna to that day's
designated picnic area, but she hadn't minded that. It
was the wrong turning she'd taken that had annoyed
her, as it cost her all of fifteen minutes to backtrack.
As she bowled into the parking area on her new
bicycle, she was breathless from pedalling fast, and
aware that, judging by the number of cars already
parked there, she was indeed late. In her haste, she did
not notice a familiar vehicle, and it was only when she

CROSSROADS  OF THE HEART	5 3
hurried up to the group leader with apologies, then
looked around at the others, that she saw him.
Her heart sank. Oh, no, she thought, not him! Not
Dr Carroll. What's he doing here?
'Anna, you know Scott, I presume,' the leader of the
group, Brent Wilson, said casually, waving a hand from
one to the other.
Dr Carroll moved to her side. 'Overslept again?' he
enquired with a sly glance.
'I miscalculated the time it would take to get here,'
Anna said coolly, incensed by his remark. No way was
she going to admit to taking a wrong turning.
'Bike behaving OK?' he asked casually.
'Perfectly, thank you.'
There was a glimmer of a smile on his lips. 'If I'd
known you were heading this way too, I'd have tooted
when you went the wrong way, and saved you being
late.'
Anna's face burned. He'd seen her, and she hadn't
even realised there was a car behind her. She could
have died. If she'd known he was going to be here,
she'd have turned back for sure! Suddenly the pleasant
day out tramping through the sweet-smelling bush had
turned into a potential nightmare.

CHAPTER  FOUR

SPOILED, Anna thought resentfully as the group set off
on the circular walk that would eventually bring them
back to the same spot later in the day. A wonderful
relaxing Sunday utterly spoiled. How could she relax
with Dr Carroll dogging her steps?
It did occur to her that her presence might be as
unwelcome to him as his was to her. Maybe he had
joined the bush walking club in order to get away from
medical colleagues occasionally. He might have chosen
it after he had discovered, as she had, that bush walking
was not a hot favourite recreation among the staff at
Mount William Hospital, and, because she had been
away on holiday, this was the first time he had encoun-
tered her. Yes, she thought, she was probably the last
person he wanted to see.
There were a dozen people in the group, and realis-
ing that she and Dr Carroll knew each other, the rest
naturally left them to pair off. Dr Carroll did not know
the members of the group very well yet, and that day
most of those who had come were people Anna only
knew slightly, and most seemed to be in pairs anyway.
There was no one she could even pretend to be
particularly chummy with, so she found herself walking
along side by side with Dr Carroll.
Expecting him to prefer silence to small talk, she
forbore to chat, but, trudging along with him only a
metre away from her, she felt his proximity intensely,
and the antipathy that seemed to flow between them.

She longed for the day to be over. What a pity, she
thought, she hadn't lost her way completely and arrived
too late to join the walk.
'I suppose you've been walking with the club for
quite a while,' Dr Carroll remarked suddenly.
Surprised, Anna answered briefly, 'Oh—yes. I
joined soon after I arrived in Mount William. But I
don't get to go on their walks all that often.' That
ought to reassure him, she thought.
'Does anyone else from the hospital belong?'
'Not that I'm aware of.'
'That was the impression I had,' he answered, sound-
ing to her ears as though he thought he'd been duped.
'You prefer your recreational activities not to include
colleagues?' Anna suggested.
He glanced across at her. ' I was wondering the same
about you,' he countered smoothly, and she flushed
slightly.
With unexpected gallantry, Dr Carroll then
remarked, 'I shan't let it spoil my enjoyment.'
'Thank you,' murmured Anna, a trifle archly.
'Neither shall I!' She was trying to think of something
else to say when she stumbled over an exposed root on
the path, but had regained her balance before his
outstretched hand reached her. 'You don't have to
walk with me,' she said. 'If you really want to get
completely away from the hospital, I can 	'
'We don't have to talk shop, do we?'
She gave him a faint smile. 'We don't have to talk at
all.'
He stared at her for a moment, then as they walked
on, took what he clearly regarded as a hint and said
nothing for the next half-hour. Even then his comment
was merely to draw Anna's attention to a bird calling

CHAPTER FOUR

SPOILED, Anna thought resentfully as the group set off
on the circular walk that would eventually bring them
back to the same spot later in the day. A wonderful
relaxing Sunday utterly spoiled. How could she relax
with Dr Carroll dogging her steps?
It did occur to her that her presence might be as
unwelcome to him as his was to her. Maybe he had
joined the bush walking club in order to get away from
medical colleagues occasionally. He might have chosen
it after he had discovered, as she had, that bush walking
was not a hot favourite recreation among the staff at
Mount William Hospital, and, because she had been
away on holiday, this was the first time he had encoun-
tered her. Yes, she thought, she was probably the last
person he wanted to see.
There were a dozen people in the group, and realis-
ing that she and Dr Carroll knew each other, the rest
naturally left them to pair off. Dr Carroll did not know
the members of the group very well yet, and that day
most of those who had come were people Anna only
knew slightly, and most seemed to be in pairs anyway.
There was no one she could even pretend to be
particularly chummy with, so she found herself walking
along side by side with Dr Carroll.
Expecting him to prefer silence to small talk, she
forbore to chat, but, trudging along with him only a
metre away from her, she felt his proximity intensely,
and the antipathy that seemed to flow between them.

She longed for the day to be over. What a pity, she
thought, she hadn't lost her way completely and arrived
too late to join the walk.
'I suppose you've been walking with the club for
quite a while,' Dr Carroll remarked suddenly.
Surprised, Anna answered briefly, 'Oh—yes. I
joined soon after I arrived in Mount William. But I
don't get to go on their walks all that often.' That
ought to reassure him, she thought.
'Does anyone else from the hospital belong?'
'Not that I'm aware of.'
'That was the impression I had,' he answered, sound-
ing to her ears as though he thought he'd been duped.
'You prefer your recreational activities not to include
colleagues?' Anna suggested.
He glanced across at her. ' I was wondering the same
about you,' he countered smoothly, and she flushed
slightly.
With unexpected gallantry, Dr Carroll then
remarked, 'I shan't let it spoil my enjoyment.'
'Thank you,' murmured Anna, a trifle archly.
'Neither shall I!' She was trying to think of something
else to say when she stumbled over an exposed root on
the path, but had regained her balance before his
outstretched hand reached her. 'You don't have to
walk with me,' she said. 'If you really want to get
completely away from the hospital, I can	'
'We don't have to talk shop, do we?'
She gave him a faint smile. 'We don't have to talk at
all.'
He stared at her for a moment, then as they walked
on, took what he clearly regarded as a hint and said
nothing for the next half-hour. Even then his comment
was merely to draw Anna's attention to a bird calling

loudly from a clump of acacias. They stopped briefly,
and he lent her his binoculars so she could see the
white-plumed honey eater more clearly.
'I ought to get some binoculars,' she said, handing
them back. 'I never realised what a difference they
make to looking at birds. You can actually see their
eyes, and the plumage is quite different.'
Dr Carroll laughed softly, and said, 'Things are not
always what they seem.' And his eyes met hers for an
instant, searchingly, as though his enigmatic remark
was meant to refer to her. It might well refer to him,
she thought. It was a disconcerting moment, and she
walked quickly on.
A short time later they paused again, this time to
admire the vivid gold and black plumage of a male
golden whistler. When Dr Carroll slipped the strap of
the binoculars over Anna's neck, his fingers brushed
her nape and caused a tingling warmth to circulate
through her, as though she had touched a live wire.
This didn't please her at all.
They dawdled for several minutes, and, realising
how far behind they were, she said, 'We'd better catch
up. We won't be popular if we get lost.' There was an
odd little quaver in her voice which didn't please her
either.
Dr Carroll looked startled, as though he'd forgotten
all about the others. He took back his binoculars and
they marched on, increasing their speed to catch up
with the main group. This proved easy enough, since
the group had stopped for morning tea. To Anna's
embarrassment there was some gentle ribbing when
they showed up, a few knowing winks and smiles, as
though they had hung back on purpose. Anna felt
annoyed, since nothing could have been further from

the truth. She moved around the group away from Dr
Carroll and chatted to other bush walkers, determined
now to avoid the registrar for the rest of the hike.
But it was not to be so easy. The rest of the group
had paired them off, and paired off they were doomed
to remain. Anna set off in the midst of the group, but
soon found herself bringing up the rear side by side
with Dr Carroll again, although she was not too sure
how it had happened.
They stopped for lunch at the base of a waterfall.
Sunlight slanted through the trees, and out of the wind
it was comparatively warm. Anna shed her backpack
and unzipped her parka. She sat on a rock and
stretched out her legs. It was very peaceful. The noise
of the waterfall drowned out conversations and the
bush smelt wonderfully fresh and clean, a mingling of
eucalyptus, wattle blossom and earth mould.
The leader and a couple of the men, including Dr
Carroll, gathered wood and lit a small fire in the stone
fireplace against the cliff face. A billy was set to boil
and the aroma of wood smoke for a time overpowered
the other perfumes of the bush.
Anna, sitting slightly apart from the main group,
found her eyes drawn to Dr Carroll, watching his every
movement, and, although she tried not to, she couldn't
help wondering about him. Once he glanced across at
her and caught her staring. She looked away quickly
and took a bite of her sandwich. She pretended to be
intent on something in a tree—too intent. A moment
later, the doctor joined her.
'Anything interesting?' he queried.
'I don't know. It flew away.' She answered coolly,
wishing he would go away and talk to someone else,

but he sprawled on the rock near her and began eating
his lunch.
'Pleasant spot,' he remarked, as Anna wondered if
he had made the rather untidy sandwiches himself. She
knew that instead of occupying accommodation in town
provided by the hospital he had opted to rent a house
which was even more isolated than the one she and
Meg shared. So far as anyone knew, he lived alone, so
she presumed he must have.
'Lovely. So peaceful. . .'
One corner of his mouth tilted slightly. 'Except for
the human chatter?' Laughter came from across the
clearing, and momentarily voices were sharply clear on
the still air.
Anna nodded mutely, unable to prevent a smile
escaping.
'I shan't utter another word,' he whispered, mocking
her a little.
Like him, she leaned back and gazed at the sky. His
manner was such a far cry from the abrasiveness she
always expected from him at the hospital that she felt
quite companionable with him.
She was miles away when the call came to set off
again. Reluctantly she screwed up her lunch papers,
flicked the last drops of tea out of her mug and stowed
everything back in her backpack. Out of the corner of
her eye she saw Dr Carroll doing likewise. They hoisted
their backpacks over their shoulders and were ready to
go when the others were.
'We have to cross the creek here,' the leader
announced, 'so take care.'
One by one the party forded the fast-flowing creek
at the foot of the waterfall by using stepping-stones.
Anna found herself again at the rear with Dr Carroll.

She hesitated on the edge of the creek, not sure which
foot to put first. Dr Carroll strode easily across and
then held out his hand.
Anna, feeling independent, ignored it and stepped
tentatively on to the first stepping-stone. Her next step
was firm, but the last stone had a patch of moss on it
and her foot slipped. Sure she was going to fall, she
spread her arms wide, and found herself steadied by a
strong grip on one wrist. Dr Carroll jerked her to the
bank where he was standing with such force that she
came violently up against him, which almost knocked
the breath out of her.
His arm slid around her as momentarily they rocked
perilously, and then, shockingly, she was held fast and
he was looking into her face with an unmistakable
intention in his grey eyes. A sudden breeze along the
valley drifted a fine spray from the waterfall over them
and misted the bush so that they seemed cocooned in a
passing cloud. As the other bush walkers disappeared
from view, the only sound was the piping of a spinebill
deep in the undergrowth.
Dr Carroll's lips met Anna's before she was aware
they were going to. She was conscious of a soft warmth,
a slight moistness, and then a hard pressure as he
kissed her with a fervour that set her senses reeling,
and sent a warm melting sensation through her whole
body, evoking an involuntary response. She capitulated
only for seconds, then the craziness of what was
happening hit her and she jerked herself away from
him.
'Dr Carroll!' Her indignation sounded thin and
forced.
He was smiling an odd tilted half-smile, and looked
mildly surprised himself. Now, even more, he was not

the Dr Carroll she recognised, and she didn't know
what to do or say. He murmured, 'Off duty, it would
sound friendlier if you called me Scott and allowed me
to call you Anna.'
Anna swallowed. She still didn't know what to say,
how to cope with the situation. And meanwhile, she
realised, the rest of the party must be getting further
and further ahead. Any minute now they would be
missed and someone sent back to find them.
'We'd better hurry,' she said, trying to iron the
tremble out of her voice. 'The others will be miles
ahead of us.' She began to scramble up the incline in
the direction the rest of the party had taken.
He caught her hand and halted her. 'Are you angry?'
The anxiety in his grey eyes confused her. She was not
accustomed to this new, different Dr Carroll. It was
too sudden.
She jerked her hand from his. 'Of course I'm not!
What's there to be angry about in a few hormones
overworking?' She fled on as fast as she could, and he
did not detain her again, but followed her up the steep
track to the top of the cliffs. Both were too breathless
from climbing to speak.
There were no nods and winks this time from the
rest of the bush walkers when they caught up with
them. Anna longed for the walk to be over, and yet,
perversely, she felt an odd kind of pleasure trudging
along beside Dr Carroll—Scott. . . She'd never be able
to bring herself to call him that, she thought, not even
off duty. It amused her to think that probably neither
of them would go bush walking again in case the other
was there. Perhaps she should graciously offer to be
the one to give it up, and if she did, would he show
that streak of gallantry again and insist that he took up

another activity since she had been in the club longer
than he?
Neither happened. That Dr Carroll was definitely
unpredictable Anna discovered yet again when they all
arrived back at the picnic spot where their cars and
bikes were parked. In spite of the tensions, she had
enjoyed the walk, and although she felt flushed and
slightly breathless after the last kilometre uphill she
also felt exhilarated. It was growing late and a bank of
dark clouds had come up during the past half-hour.
Now it began to rain. Anna pulled up the hood on her
parka and was fastening the strings when Dr Carroll
came over to her.
'I can sling your bike on the roof-rack and give you
a lift, if you like,' he offered.
She shook her head. 'No, really. . .thanks, but I'm
all right. It's only a shower.'
He glanced at the purple-black mass of cloud loom-
ing over the mountain behind them. 'I don't think so.
We're in for a storm, by the look of that sky. You'd
better be sensible and come with me.'
'I've ridden in the rain before,' she said stubbornly,
as thunder rolled ominously in the distance.
He was not to be put off. 'If you had an accident I'd
have you on my conscience again.'
The leader, Brent Wilson, joined them. 'Nice to see
you again, Scott—you too, Anna. Great you two know
each other.' He pulled his own hood further over his
forehead. 'Looks like a storm coming up. You giving
Anna a ride, Scott? I can if you can't, but I've already
got one bike on the rack.'
'I'll take care of Anna,' Scott Carroll said firmly, and
Anna knew she would have no further say in the
matter. She capitulated graciously.

While Dr Carroll lashed her bicycle to the roof-rack,
she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat of
his car. There were occasional flashes of lightning and
the thunder was louder. The other cars were all leaving
the parking area, and, being at the end furthest from
the exit, they were once again bringing up the rear.
As they drove back towards the main road, it began
to rain heavily, almost too heavily for the windscreen-
wipers to cope. Watching the water sloshing off the
bonnet and splashing up in muddy waves from the car's
front bumper and wheels, Anna was thankful she had
accepted the lift.
'I'm glad I'm not out in this,' she said at last,
shivering. 'Thank you very much for the lift, Dr
Carroll.'
'Scott,' he reminded her, glancing at her in quite a
friendly way. 'It isn't difficult to pronounce.'
'Sorry—I'm just not used to it. . .'
'Are you warm enough? Would you like the heating
up a bit?'
'No, thanks, I'm fine.'
Anna subsided into an uneasy silence again. She
could not deny she was enjoying his solicitude, and at
the moment his abrasive manner seemed almost unbe-
lievable. But, she warned herself, she must not enjoy
his company too much. Tomorrow he would doubtless
revert to being his normal self. Or was this gentler
mood the normal one? She stole a quick glance at his
profile as he concentrated on avoiding the worst pot-
holes. It was a strong face, with slightly jutting chin
and firm jawline, a straight nose and deep-set eyes. His
dark hair was tousled from having been under the
hood, and was plastered against his forehead. His lips
were firmly together, suggesting gritted teeth, as he

battled to keep control of the car on the muddy track,
made worse by the recent passage of all the other
vehicles.
At the T-junction where the bush road joined the
macadam, Scott Carroll let out a grunt of relief as he
swung the car to the right. Anna hated to do it, but she
had to speak.
'Dr Carr. . .Scott, I think we should have turned
left,' she said. 'Mount William is that way.' She smiled
a little, as she jerked her thumb in the opposite
direction, wondering how he would take it. As for
herself, she felt much better about having taken a
wrong turning that morning. It was reassuring to find
that Scott Carroll wasn't infallible.
He did not slow down. ' I know.'
Anna was now nonplussed. 'But I don't understand.
Why aren't we going back to Mount William?' She
glanced at him in some alarm.
'Don't worry, I'm not kidnapping you. But as it's so
late, I thought we might get tea in Winston. There's a
charming little pub there that serves the kind of meals
bush walkers need after a long hike. Hungry?'
Was he never going to stop surprising her? Anna
swallowed hard and said, 'Well, yes, but. . .'
He negotiated a sharp bend. 'Your reluctance isn't
very flattering to my ego!'
A flush warmed her skin. 'I'm sorry. But I wasn't
expecting. . .' As she spoke she reminded herself that
she hadn't been expecting that kiss by the waterfall
either. Was this a preliminary to testing her responses
again? A ghastly thought occurred to her. Was Scott
Carroll a frustrated male who was hoping	?
Her thought was cut off as she slammed forward

against her seat-belt as the car braked suddenly. She
glimpsed a large kangaroo bounding off into the bush.
Scott seemed a little shaken too. 'Near miss,' he
said, and Anna noticed that his knuckles were white.
He looked at her anxiously. 'Sorry about that. Are you
all right?'
'Yes, of course.'
'I hope you won't have belt bruises tomorrow. That
was a hard jolt I gave you.'
'It wasn't your fault, and I'm glad you missed the
'roo.'
The low cloud had brought an early dusk and before
they reached the small town of Winston headlights
were needed. There was no further incident, and by
the time they turned into the hotel car park the rain
had eased off.
'I must ring Meg,' said Anna, as they entered the
long low bluestone building. 'She'll worry if I'm not
home when she expects me, especially in this weather.'
While Dr Carroll strolled into the bar, she found a
phone and made her call. Meg had already gone out,
so she left a message on the answering machine, hoping
Meg would check the tape when she got home if it was
before she arrived herself. Otherwise there could be a
search party out for her!
While she had the opportunity, she headed for the
ladies and combed her hair, which had become rather
tangled. She pinned it back into a tidy knot and wished
she could powder her nose, but she never took make-
up when she went bush walking. Her skin glowed from
the day's exertion and there was a sparkle in her eyes
that even she could see. But it would have been nice to
tone down that faint shine on her nose! Not that it

mattered, of course. She wasn't trying to impress Scott
Carroll. Heaven forbid!
When she joined him in the bar, Dr Carroll had a
tankard of beer before him. He had removed his parka
and looked even more handsome than usual in a polo-
neck tan sweater and brown corduroys. The sweater
accentuated his arm and chest muscles, and as he stood
up she noticed how slim his waist and hips were. Lean
and strong, she thought, then warned herself not to
admire his physique too much.
'The walk seems to have done you good,' he
remarked softly. 'You look a picture of glowing health.'
As his gaze drifted down over her close-fitting green
skivvy, Anna's colour deepened. She clasped her hands
to her burning face. 'Coming into the warmth out of
the cold air always makes my face tingle.'
Scott Carroll chuckled and caught hold of her arm.
'A drink? And then we'll eat. I don't know about you,
but I'm ravenous!' He ordered a glass of red wine for
her and they found a table, then went across to the
smorgasbord which offered both hot dishes and salads.
There were a few people in the bar, but no one Anna
recognised, although people in this area used the
Mount William Hospital. She guessed that the registrar
patronised the place because he was not so likely to be
recognised here. He would hardly want to be seen
eating out with her in Mount William. That would
cause gossiping tongues to wag. It was even a risk here
that someone they knew would choose tonight to drive
to Winston. She had never been to the pub before and
was surprised it was not better known among her
colleagues.
'This place must be one of the year's best kept
secrets,' she remarked as they carried their food to

their table, which was not too close to the crackling
wood fire in an enormous grate. 'How did you find out
about it?'
'Just nosing around. I get the impression that most
of the staff at the MWH stick in and around the town
even though it's a bit short on good restaurants. The
pubs are quite good, though.'
'There's a really nice restaurant a few miles out of
town,' Anna told him. 'A converted farmhouse. It's
very popular with the MWH crowd, but if you prefer
to go where you're not likely to meet any of them this
is a better bet, I'd say.'
One dark eyebrow quirked. 'I suppose you think I'm
very unsociable.'
She kept her expression non-committal. 'There's no
obligation to mix business with pleasure.'
'The food is good here,' Scott Carroll said, as though
that was sufficient defence.
'I won't spread the good news back at the MWH,'
she promised, and earned a slightly wry grin from him
but no further comment.
Tucking into her enormous vegetable-filled filo
pastry over which she had poured lashings of home-
made tomato sauce, Anna agreed with his opinion of
the food. While they ate, there was a long silence,
during which she wondered several times whether there
was going to be any conversation at all, and if so what
about. She was sure he wouldn't welcome shop talk
and even surer he would not want to answer personal
questions. She was loath to start chattering herself, so
she waited for Scott to speak.
But when the silence seemed to be extending
interminably, and she could stand it no longer, she

ventured, 'Back there in the bush, you sounded like an
expert on birds. Have you been birdwatching long?'
Scott's eyes rose to her face as though he'd forgotten
she was sitting opposite him. He had been miles away,
she realised, in some private world of his own. She
longed to ask him why he had come to Mount William,
whether he was married, all kinds of personal things,
but she didn't dare. Those might be the normal ques-
tions you would ask someone you worked with, but not
Dr Carroll. Anna felt she had established a tenuous
rapport with him today, and she was not going to risk
ruining it by being nosy.
'Since I was about ten years old,' he answered. 'It's
a fascinating hobby. I go out most weekends, or any
other spare time I have—mostly to the Dandenongs
when I'm in Melbourne. Up here, there's a wealth of
birdlife in the Grampians, and I find it very relaxing
watching bird behaviour.'
Anna suppressed her desire to know more about him
personally, and asked what she hoped were intelligent
questions about birds. It must have been obvious that
her knowledge was very scanty, but Scott seemed
delighted to inform her, and she had to admit he made
the subject very interesting and entertaining, and to
her delight the humorous side of him surfaced once or
twice.
They finished the meal with coffee and a liqueur,
and after the second cup of coffee, Scott said, 'If you've
finished, shall we go?' All at once he seemed to be in a
hurry. He rose and shrugged into his parka, then deftly
helped Anna on with hers.
The rain had gone and the sky was clear and starry.
There was a sharp bite in the night air, but it was warm
in the car. They did not talk much, and what conver-

sation they did have was mainly still about birds or
bush walking.
Anna was still bewildered by the whole thing. She
was well aware already that Dr Scott Carroll was an
impetuous man, but his behaviour this evening puzzled
her. Why had he taken her to the pub for a meal? Had
that been his intention when they left the picnic area,
or had he thought of it on the spur of the moment to
cover his taking a wrong turning? Thinking it over, she
felt more and more that covering up had been his only
reason. He had lumbered himself with her because he
didn't want to admit to an error.
When he drew up outside the house she shared with
Meg, Anna said, 'That was very pleasant, Scott. Thank
you very much for the meal.' His name slipped off her
tongue more easily now.
'My pleasure,' he said, then took her completely by
surprise by asking, 'How do you like living in
Australia?'
Since he had not asked her any personal questions
before, Anna was taken aback. 'Very much.'
He leaned back comfortably, half facing her, as
though settling down for a conversation. 'Do you think
you'll stay here permanently?' The car light cast
shadows on his face, emphasising his strong jawline
and broad forehead, but hiding any expression in his
eyes.
'I don't know. . .' The unexpectedness of his interest
caught her off guard and made her feel confused. It
was a funny time to start such a conversation. It
occurred to her that maybe he felt remiss for talking
too much about his interest in birdwatching and not
enough about her. Anna did not want to go into too
many details, so she said briefly, 'My mother died a

couple of months ago, and I'm—well, at a sort of
crossroads, I suppose. I'm not sure what I want to do
next.'
He murmured a brief condolence, all the time look-
ing at her steadily, then asked, 'Why did you come out
in the first place?'
Anna shrugged, still reluctant to go into details. He
couldn't really be interested. But she had to say
something. 'My mother was a widow and after she had
a stroke back in England she wanted to come out here
to be near my brother, so we emigrated. But eighteen
months ago he and his family went off to Canada.
Mum didn't want to move again, so we stayed here,
and then she had another stroke—a fatal one.' Anna's
eyes filled with tears, which appalled her. She didn't
want Dr Carroll to see her cry.
He said gently, 'I'm sorry. You've obviously had a
hard time recently.' He paused, still looking intently at
her. 'I can understand your indecision. Now you're
free and can do whatever you want, you're not sure
what that is. Am I right?'
Suddenly it felt claustrophobic in the car, but Anna
could not find the will or the excuse to escape quickly.
Talking was the best way to keep control of her
feelings, so she rushed into telling him how she had
started her medical course in England, but had
switched to nursing after her mother's stroke.
He looked astonished. 'You wanted to be a doctor?'
His surprise was tinged with admiration. 'And you gave
it up and became a nurse because of your mother?'
Anna felt uncomfortable. 'It wasn't possible to train
as a doctor where we lived in England, but I was able
to do nursing. It seemed like the ideal alternative at
the time.'

'That was very noble of you,' he said, without
sounding patronising.
She shrugged. 'Not really. I like nursing. And I
didn't have any choice, anyway.'
He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment or two.
'Why not take up where you left off now?'
Anna lifted her shoulders indecisively. 'That's what
Meg keeps urging me to do, but I'm too old—and
medical courses are long. . .'
He scoffed, 'You've got a lifetime ahead of you.
Plenty of time to qualify.'
She smiled, but did not comment. 'Well, now you
know all about me,' she said lightly. 'I don't know
much about you, though.'
Abruptly, she felt his withdrawal, so she was hardly
surprised when instead of the reciprocal enlightenment
she had foolishly hoped for, he said, 'Yes, it was a
pleasant day, and an even pleasanter evening. Thank
you for your company, Anna.' She was no nearer
finding out anything about him than she had been
before.
'Yes. . .thank you again,' she muttered, and opened
the car door.
'I'll see you safely to your door,' he offered.
She protested, 'No, really, it's all right. The porch
light is on. Meg's home. . .'
'Sure?'
'Yes—don't get out. Please. . .' Suddenly she felt
embarrassed.
'Goodnight, then, Anna.'
'Goodnight.' She slammed the passenger door shut
and ran up the path to the porch, aware that he lingered
to make sure she reached it safely. She turned and
lifted her hand in a wave of acknowledgement, know-

CROSSROADS OF THE HEART	71
ing he would see her in the light from the porch lamp,
and then as the car sped away she clapped a hand over
her mouth.
'Oh, no! My bike!'
Dr Scott Carroll had just driven off with her bicycle
still firmly lashed to the roof-rack of his car. What an
idiot he'd think her to have forgotten it. But he'd
forgotten it too, she reminded herself defensively as
she let herself into the house. It wasn't just her fault.

CHAPTER  FIVE

it wasn't all that late, but Anna tiptoed into the house
in case Meg had gone to bed. Her friend, however, was
ironing in the kitchen. She looked relieved to see
Anna.
'Oh, there you are!'
'Did you get my message?' asked Anna. 'I rang
about six.'
Meg nodded. 'As you weren't home, I had a feeling
you might have rung, so I checked the tape.' She
paused, iron in hand. 'Where were you? There was a
lot of background noise.'
Anna's message had been cryptic: not to worry, she
was having a meal out and would be home later. Meg's
face said more than her query. What she really wanted
to know was, who with? Anna hesitated, reluctant all
at once to tell her the truth. Meg wouldn't gossip, but
she would start speculating, and really there was
nothing to speculate about. She had also promised to
protect Dr Carroll's favourite eating spot. So, convinc-
ing herself it was all in a good cause, she said,
'I went out for a meal after the walk.'
To her surprise and relief, Meg did not enquire
precisely with whom or where, assuming no doubt that
it must have been with the bush walking group. But
Anna realised immediately that she might have put her
foot in it. What if Scott came back with her bike
tonight, or Meg saw him when he returned it tomorrow
morning? How was she going to explain that away?

She crossed her fingers, hoping he'd choose to return it
in the morning when, with any luck, Meg would be still
in bed and need never know.
'How was the barbecue?' she asked, hoping Meg's
outing had been eventful enough to eclipse her own.
'Was Peter up to expectations?'
Meg gave a dreamy sigh. 'Fabulous! It was a great
party, and we got on really well. It's the first time
we've ever talked really deeply about anything. I never
imagined we'd have so much in common!'
Anna laughed. 'Deep talk at a party? That sounds
serious!' She added, 'Did you get that storm we had
this afternoon?'
'No, luckily we didn't. We could see the sky darken-
ing over the mountains, but it was fine where we were
most of the time. A couple of light showers, that's all.
Not that it mattered—we were only outside for a little
while cooking our food. We were indoors most of the
time.'
'Did Peter ask you out again?'
Meg beamed. 'Yes, he did.' She slammed the iron
on the stand. 'Anna, I'm just scared to even think
about him—I've never felt this way before. . .'
'Sounds like love.'
'If it isn't—I'll die!' Meg whispered.
Anna smiled indulgently. ' I doubt it! You'll survive
and so will he, and in the fullness of time wedding bells
will ring throughout the land!'
Meg said soberly, ' I didn't imagine I'd ever feel like
this, Anna. I've never felt this way about anyone else.'
She grinned apologetically. 'Sorry, you're tired and
wanting to go to bed. You don't want to listen to all
this crazy rambling. I'm off to bed myself anyway.'
'Sweet dreams,' Anna wished for her.

Involuntarily, she yawned. She was tired, but she
was afraid to go to bed before Meg just in case Scott
did take it into his head to come back that night. As
Meg was about to fold the ironing-board up, Anna
said, 'Leave it, Meg. I've got a couple of things I want
to press.'
Meg's head was too much in the clouds for her to be
surprised. She said goodnight and went off with her
pile of ironing, and presumably she would enjoy sweet
dreams, Anna thought with a pang of envy.
Anna did her own unnecessary ironing, and hung
about until she was sure Meg was in bed, and she felt
it was unlikely that Scott would return that night,
before she went to bed herself. She was dead tired
after the long walk and the emotional tension of the
evening, and she slept soundly.
One thing she did not forget to do, and that was to
set her alarm. In the morning, she hurried her shower,
dressed quickly and rushed breakfast, wanting to be
sure to be quite ready by the time Scott arrived as she
expected he would. Thank goodness Meg, as usual,
was dead to the world still and not likely to catch her
out.
Anna made sure she was hovering on the veranda
well before she expected Scott to arrive so that he
would see her and not blast his horn, which might just
penetrate Meg's consciousness and make her curious
later. Deception, Anna thought, was really not for her.
She was the kind to make a fatal slip-up, forget her
story, or feel perpetually guilty.
She had a glimpse of the road from the veranda, so
spotted Scott Carroll's car before it reached the house
and she was at the front gate as he pulled up. Her
bicycle was still on the roof-rack.

He got out and said very drily, 'You forgot your
bike.'
As though it had been entirely her fault! Anna said,
'Sorry. It wasn't until you'd driven off that I
realised. . .'
'I didn't think there was much point in coming back
last night.'
'No—I'm glad you didn't. . .' Anna felt more and
more foolish with every minute. 'I'm sorry you had to
make a detour this morning. I feel so stupid walking
off like that, forgetting it.'
He made no polite disclaimer as most people would
have done, but heaved her bicycle on to the verge and
propped it against the fence.
Anna said, 'Thank you.' She couldn't use his first
name. He seemed so different again this morning,
more his old distant self. Scott, the man who had
thawed a little yesterday, had gone again and Dr
Carroll was back. He was naturally annoyed with her
for forgetting the bicycle. After all, it was hers, and
her place to remember it, not his. She said, 'I feel such
a fool forgetting it.'
He gave her a long appraisal from steely grey eyes.
'Well, so long as you're not as absent-minded on the
job.'
That was enough to goad her, but she resisted the
urge to retort in kind, and repeated her thanks.
He looked her over with clinical impartiality. 'Well,
I suppose you want to get started. I won't hold you
up.' And, with a muttered goodbye, he departed.
Anna watched the car out of sight, then mounted
her bicycle and set off. She felt terribly deflated.

'It's going to be one of those weeks,' predicted Simone,
a little later that same morning. 'Mark my words.'
Anna tried to sound more optimistic even if she
didn't feel it. 'Come on, it's not that bad. Just because
we had three emergencies admitted over the weekend.'
'And Mrs Bryant,' Simone reminded her darkly.
Anna groaned in agreement. 'Yes—well, I suppose
we could do without her. But every hospital has them,
Simone, the moaners and groaners, the patients you
can't do anything right for.'
Mrs Bryant was a regular, an elderly woman who
seemed to have everything under the sun wrong with
her. She had been in for at least half a dozen different
operations, and occasionally had been admitted to the
medical ward too. It was hardly her fault, and she
wasn't a hypochondriac, but she was a complainer,
which could get the nursing staff down at times,
especially busy times when every second bell seemed
to be Mrs Bryant requiring attention.
'And young Liz who can't do anything right, stop!'
laughed Simone, who was much less gloomy in temper-
ament than she sometimes seemed.
'She'll straighten out all of a sudden,' said Anna, but
without total conviction. 'She's still nervous, that's the
trouble.'
'Which is why she is at this moment changing flowers
and tidying bedclothes,' said Simone. 'I know she ought
to be doing something more—well, medical, but I felt
more secure with her doing harmless duties.'
'She has to get experience,' Anna reproved. 'That's
the only way to learn.'
'But she needs constant supervision, and I haven't
had time this morning,' said Simone. 'Even our fool-
proof new autoclave packed up when she was using it.'

As she spoke, there was a rattle at the door, which
burst open to admit an anxious Liz.
'What's the matter, Liz?' Anna asked kindly, not too
alarmed by her stricken expression, since it was almost
permanently on the girl's face.
Liz gasped, 'It's Mrs Henderson! She's making a
dreadful noise. I don't think she can breathe properly.
She looks very cy-cyanosed. . .' She looked at the two
seniors as though expecting a reprimand.
Anna and Simone did not hesitate. They both rushed
to the ward to check on the patient.
'She was all right half an hour ago,' Simone said.
Anna took one look at Mrs Henderson and rapped
out, 'Get the oxygen, Simone, and ask someone to call
Dr Carroll. Emergency!'
The patient, who had been admitted with severely
fractured ribs after a car accident at the weekend, was
in dire distress. The blue tinge in her skin indicated a
serious depletion of oxygen to the blood. She had
slipped down the bed a little, and at first glance she
appeared to be unconscious, but her eyelids flickered
when she realised someone was bending over her, and
she tried to speak.
'Don't try to talk,' said Anna, 'it's all right—you'll
be fine shortly, just as soon as we get some oxygen for
you.'
'I'm—dying. . .' rasped the woman frantically.
'No, you're not,' soothed Anna. 'I know it feels
terrible at the moment, but in a few seconds. . .' She
slid her arms under the patient's shoulders. 'It'll be
better when you're sitting up. As you were before.'
Mrs Henderson coughed and retched, and flecks of
sputum stained the sheet. Anna was perturbed to see
blood in it. What was keeping Simone, for heaven's

sake? And then Simone was there with a mask and
cylinder. Anna quickly fitted the mask to the patient's
mouth and nose, and watched the oxygen inflate the
cuff. There was an almost immediate alleviation of Mrs
Henderson's distress, which Anna noted with relief,
although she knew the underlying condition was prob-
ably serious.
A voice at her elbow said, 'This is your emergency?'
She turned, with a new kind of relief, to see Scott
Carroll. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain some-
thing else more personal registered too, but now was
not the moment to identify it.
'Yes. She collapsed a few minutes ago.'
'She's not one of my patients,' said Scott. 'One of
the weekend casualties?'
Anna nodded. 'Car accident on Saturday night—
crushed ribs and multiple bruises. I suspect there's air
or maybe blood in the pleural cavity. . .' She broke
off. It wasn't her role to diagnose. She stood aside
while the registrar examined the patient, gently
reassuring her, and saying nothing to Anna.
He eventually acknowledged that Anna was still
there, by frowning at her. He drew back a little and
said in a low voice, 'I think a tracheostomy is called
for, don't you? It should have been done yesterday.'
Judging by his grim expression, someone was going to
get a rocket over that, Anna thought.
She was astonished by the 'don't you?' Why was he
asking her? True, she had told him she had commenced
medical studies and given them up, but she wasn't sure
how to take his remark. It was an odd moment to
mock.
'Yes, I imagine so,' she muttered.

He glowered at her. 'You imagine? In medicine,
Sister, you do not imagine. You make decisions.'
Anna lifted her eyes to his. 'Yes, I do think a
tracheostomy is the correct procedure to follow,' she
stated firmly, and caught a startled look from Simone,
who was diligently monitoring the oxygen.
'Then you'd better alert the operating-room immedi-
ately, and prepare Mrs Henderson for emergency
surgery.' Scott glanced quickly from Anna to Simone
and back to Anna. 'You are familiar with nursing
patients after tracheostomies?'
'Yes, of course,' said Anna, and Simone nodded.
He gave a grim little smile. 'Then there shouldn't be
any problems, should there?' His eyes rested on Anna's
face for a moment, then he left them.
Simone sighed. 'What have we done to deserve him?'
Anna shrugged. She didn't want to discuss Dr
Carroll, and, besides, there was too much to do. She
vowed to do her utmost to make sure that Scott would
not be able to find fault with the post-operative nursing
of Mrs Henderson.
After Mrs Henderson had been taken to the operat-
ing-room, Anna set Fran and Liz to prepare the small
side-ward which they used for cases needing to be
specialled. Dr Carroll was going to ask for twenty-four-
hour nursing care, she felt certain, to ensure that no
further problems arose, or that if they did there was
someone competent on hand. Anticipating the patient's
needs, she supervised the setting up of an apparatus
trolley which would remain in the room in case of
urgent need at any time, and the installation of a
respirator, and checked the availability of oxygen.
In between times she answered calls and assisted

other nurses with minor problems in the wards, of
which there seemed to be more than usual that day.
'Oh, no, not Mrs Bryant again!' she exploded, when
Fran came to fetch her because Mrs Bryant insisted on
seeing the sister in charge.
Not wanting to be away from the ward when Mrs
Henderson returned from Theatre, Anna skipped
lunch. She was persuaded to pause briefly to snatch a
cup of coffee and a large slice of her favourite fruit
cake by Liz who, showing unexpected perception, had
insisted on getting the snack for her from the canteen,
when Dr Carroll burst into her office. His eyes swept
across her and her snack with undisguised disapproval.
'I expected someone to be on hand to receive Mrs
Henderson back,' he said icily. 'Isn't that usual for
cases coming to you from Theatre?'
Caught with her mouth full of fruit cake, Anna was
unable to reply instantly. She chewed and swallowed
hastily. 'She's back?' It was hard to remain unruffled
under the icy glare of deep-set grey eyes. A morsel of
cake crumb stuck in her throat and she coughed. She
took a swig of coffee to dislodge it, feeling her face
redden as she did so, partly from the effort of not
coughing and partly from annoyance.
'I came up with her myself,' the registrar said.
Anna gained control of herself. 'Nobody notified us.'
His eyes narrowed as though he didn't believe her.
She refused to be quelled, although she felt at a distinct
disadvantage. 'If I'd known you were on your way with
Mrs Henderson, would I be sitting here and. . .?' But
words failed her, as they often did in the face of his
steely stare.
He seemed to consider what she'd said, and when he
spoke again, his tone was a shade less accusatory.

'Maybe one of your nurses took the message and didn't
tell you,' he allowed. 'That girl Liz whatever her name
is is a bit of a scatterbrain.'
Anna rose. 'I've been in my office for the past ten
minutes or so. Maybe they just forgot to ring through
from Recovery.'
His eye drifted over her cup and saucer and the half-
eaten fruit cake. 'I'm glad some people can find time
to stop for a cuppa and a slice of cake,' he said drily.
Anna felt a surge of anger and almost blew up. 'I
didn't have time for lunch,' she told him in a clipped
tone. 'One of my nurses very kindly fetched me the
coffee and cake, and I could hardly offend her by not
eating it. She was thinking of my welfare!'
He was unimpressed. ' I missed lunch too,' he said
pointedly. And then, 'Well, if you've finished, perhaps
we can make Mrs Henderson comfortable.'
Anna hadn't finished, but that was a minor point.
She was there to do his bidding, and looking after
patients came before one's own welfare, even when
one was exhausted. And she was close to exhaustion,
she realised. She had been on her feet all day, rushing
hither and yon, but it wasn't all physical. Part of it was
frayed nerves caused by the doctor now at her side. It
wasn't just his abrasive manner either. Scott Carroll
was a thorn in her side, to be sure, but he was also a
disturbing presence in her subconscious, as well as in
her office. Incredibly, as their eyes met, there was a
spontaneous spark between them that was anything but
antipathy. Anna, shocked to the core, lowered her
eyes. Now she really was imagining things. When she
glanced up she saw only a familiar withdrawal in his
expression.
'We've got Room Five ready for her,' she said, and

led the way with as much self-control as she could
muster.
Dr Carroll looked around the room where Mrs
Henderson would be receiving twenty-four-hour care
for the next couple of days at least, and Anna held her
breath as she waited for him to find something wrong,
some piece of equipment lacking, some detail forgot-
ten. But he said nothing. He and the theatre technician
who had brought the patient in carefully transferred
her into the bed. She was semi-conscious now and
moaning a little.
It took only a short time to connect up the respirator
and adjust the air flow through the tracheostomy tube
in the patient's throat. Anna was pleased to find that
everything worked smoothly and not a single complaint
came from Dr Carroll.
She gave him her full attention when he issued
instructions, and, when he rapped out a few questions
on how she would care for the artificial opening in the
patient's throat and ensure that there were no problems
with the oxygen flow, she answered confidently and
accurately.
To her amazement he said, 'Thank you, Sister. It
sounds as though you know what you're doing.' He
included Simone in his glance, and she looked equally
surprised.
He motioned Anna to accompany him when he left,
and outside in the corridor he said, 'Don't hesitate to
call me if there's any problem. I expect a blockage may
occur later that may need suction to relieve it. Tell
whoever takes over from you that she must call me or
another doctor immediately if there's the slightest sign
that the airway is becoming congested.'
'Yes, I'll do that,' said Anna. He did not leave her,

but stood looking at her, his expression preoccupied,
so she asked, 'Is there anything else?'
'No. You can go back and enjoy your tea and cakes
now.' He turned on his heel and marched away, leaving
her fuming.
The coffee was of course stone cold, but she drank
it, and mopped up the remaining cake and crumbs.
'Just because he's a martyr,' she muttered.
The rest of the day was no less hectic for Anna. With
regular checks on Mrs Henderson, supervising other
patient treatments, and dealing with the usual pile of
paperwork, she scarcely paused for a minute, and was
in fact late going off duty after taking extra time to
brief the sister taking over from her on Mrs
Henderson's condition.
She arrived home completely wrung out, made her-
self a couple of sandwiches and a pot of tea, then went
straight to bed. She was asleep almost as soon as her
head touched the pillow and she did not wake until her
alarm went off next morning.
It was an effort to pedal to work and, despite having
slept well, she felt as though she had not really rested.
She felt thoroughly frayed at the edges, and also
depressed. Her state of mind was not helped when she
arrived to at once sense an atmosphere of gloom. She
was changing into her uniform when Simone came in
and broke the news. Mrs Henderson had died in the
night.
Anna was shattered. 'Died? But, Simone. . .' Fear
that the nursing might have been at fault, that somehow
she might have been responsible, gripped her. 'How?
Her condition was serious but stable. . .why. . .?'
'Just one of those things, I suppose,' Simone said
bleakly.  'She went into paradoxical breathing, and

although they tried everything she didn't respond. Dr
Carroll was here,' she added. 'She had the very best
treatment. It wasn't anyone's fault.'
'No, of course not,' Anna said dully. But, as always
when a patient died despite all the care the medical
and nursing staff could give, she felt the burden of
responsibility. Failure was hard to take.
There was no time, however, to brood, although
Anna knew Mrs Henderson's death would needle her
subconscious for a time. A new day brought a whole
batch of new problems. What it did not bring was Dr
Carroll. Anna guessed he might have taken the day
off, seeing that he had apparently been at the hospital
for most of the night. She guessed that he too was
probably taking the loss of the patient hard. It should
have been a relief not to have him interrupting, but,
perversely, she missed him.
'Like a hole in the head,' she tried to tell herself
once, then admitted that, whatever his faults, she was
attracted to him, not just as a man with a powerful
masculine attraction, but as a person. 'You have to be
crazy,' she told herself.
It was only a day's respite. Dr Carroll was back on
deck the following day. Having missed doing his usual
round the previous day, he arrived bright and early,
catching Anna and her staff slightly unprepared once
again. Her conflicting feelings about him made her feel
doubly on edge. She felt like a pressure cooker about
to blow a valve.
Mrs Henderson's death had not helped. Everyone
was still feeling touchy about it. Anna made only a
brief remark to Scott, and, not unexpectedly, received
only a monosyllabic acknowledgement. Clearly he did

not wish to talk about it, so she judged it best not to
try.
It had been altogether a very trying week, Anna
admitted at the end of it. The previous weekend
seemed light years ago and the slight temporary thaw-
ing of Dr Carroll a faint memory—or maybe something
she had just imagined. Had she imagined the kiss too?
If she had, it was a very vivid imagination she pos-
sessed! She could still feel the cool mist of droplets
from the waterfall spray, the soft warmth of Scott's
mouth on hers, the firm touch of his hands. . .
'Go away!' she commanded her thoughts. 'Go away
and leave me alone. I can't stand the man!'
Later that day, she was in an empty ward with one
of the other nurses trying to fix an intravenous drip
stand which was faulty, when Dr Carroll walked in
unannounced. Also in the recently vacated ward was
Liz, who was removing a large bouquet of flowers
which a patient who had just been discharged had not
wanted to take with her, prior to remaking the bed.
She was heading for the door, holding the flowers in
front of her, and they effectively hid Dr Carroll from
her view, so as she approached the door and he burst
through it, there was inevitably a collision.
Anna turned quickly as Liz let out a yelp of dismay,
stumbled and then, realising whom she had bumped
into, fled in terror, with Scott's exclamation, 'Stupid
wench! Why don't you look where you're going?'
echoing after her.
His words echoed for Anna too. He'd called her a
stupid wench when he'd knocked her off her bicycle.
What had Meg said about him? That he had a short
fuse.

'Were you looking for me?' she asked, ignoring the
outburst.
'Yes, I was.' He brushed petals and water splashes
off his sleeve. 'Your wards are somewhat of a hazard,
Sister Mackay!' Sometimes he relaxed and called her
Anna, but not when he was cross!
'Oh, we've managed to avoid causing any casualties,'
she replied, determined as usual not to let him rile her.
'More by luck than good management,' he
suggested.
Anna ignored that remark too. 'You said you were
looking for me?'
'Yes. Have you got the X-rays back yet for Gloria
Trent?'
'That's the young woman with severe whiplash, isn't
it?' Anna creased her brow. 'No, I'm sure we haven't.
But if you come along to my office I'll check, and then
if not I'll get on to Radiology. It was yesterday, wasn't
it? So we should have had them by now.'
When confronted by his steely gaze, she always felt
remiss, even if she had done nothing to warrant it. She
preceded him to the door, but had scarcely reached it
when there was an ominous sound behind her, a swish
of footwear skidding on vinyl floor covering, accom-
panied by a grunt of surprise, and then a very clear
expletive as the rear of Dr Carroll's anatomy hit the
floor with a loud thud.
Anna found herself gazing down at his sprawled
figure, feet slightly raised and a telltale squashed bloom
on the sole of one shoe. She had missed stepping on
the flower, but he had put his foot right on it and
slipped as on a banana skin.
'Oh, dear!' she breathed, hurrying back to help him.

She bent over him. 'Are you hurt?' She held out a
hand to help him up, but he ignored it.
He got to his feet, hair awry, face a little flushed,
and said grittily, 'No, I'm not hurt, but I might have
been.'
'You trod on a flower,' Anna said, and might have
laughed because he looked so flustered, and no man
liked a blow to his dignity, but she wasn't in the mood
for laughing, not even at Scott Carroll.
He glowered at her. 'You'd better see it's cleaned up
before someone does themselves a real injury. We've
enough work to do in Theatre without in-house acci-
dents to staff or patients.'
'Of course I'll do that straight away,' she said frostily.
'If you'd like to go to my office, I'll join you in a
moment.'
No delay was necessary, however, as they met Liz in
the corridor. This was unfortunate for the young nurse
as she received a stinging reprimand, not the first she'd
ever had, from Dr Carroll. Anna felt for her as she
muttered apologies and then charged off to remove the
squashed blooms and wipe the floor dry.
Now let him get cranky about the X-rays, thought
Anna, and if he's not careful I'll clock him one!
She noticed, however, that the registrar looked a bit
shaken, and her better nature won. 'Would you like a
cup of tea?' she asked as he sat down rather gingerly in
her visitor's chair. She added, 'You have hurt your
back.'
'Just jarred it,' he said. 'It'll be all right in a minute.
I wouldn't say no to the tea, thanks.'
Anna put her head out of the door and was lucky to
catch Fran passing. 'Tea for two!' she whispered. 'Dr

Carroll tripped in Room Three and jarred his back.
You'd better bring some codeine too.'
She wasn't sure, but she thought Fran's mouth
moved in a silent 'Serves him right!'
When she returned to her desk, she noticed a large
envelope there. It was from Radiology and must have
arrived while she was attempting to repair the drip
stand. 'I dare say this is what you're looking for,' she
said, taking out the films. She noticed that when the
registrar leaned forward to take them from her he
winced.
She said, 'Don't you think you'd better have your
back X-rayed? You might have done some real
damage, chipped a bone or pulled a tendon.'
He grunted and studied the plates. 'Hmm. Looks
like a compacted third vertebra.'
Fran came in with the tea and Anna shook a couple
of codeine out of the bottle into the cap and handed
them to Scott. 'Here, these'll ease the pain.'
He scowled, but took the tablets and downed them
with the water Fran had thoughtfully provided.
'Thanks,' he said, then asked casually, 'Have you
thought any more about taking up medicine again?'
His personal question came as a surprise. He hadn't
talked to her about anything other than hospital mat-
ters all week. 'Not really. I'm still avoiding the issue,
I'm afraid.'
'No point in leaving it too long,' he rejoined. 'The
sooner you get started the better.'
He sat stiffly upright in the chair, which told Anna
that his back really was hurting. He seemed in no hurry
to move, however, but keen to discuss with her one or
two patients who had had operations during the past
couple of days. It was the first time, she realised, that

he had ever sat down in her office. His comments and
instructions were mostly given on the run, so to speak.
In spite of his brusqueness, it gave her a dangerous
feeling of companionableness having him there drink-
ing tea with her, and she found herself recalling that
day they had gone bushwalking and to the pub after-
wards. He had never suggested any further social
contact and she believed he never would, but she
wouldn't complain if he would do this more often—
and if he would be a little less tetchy. There were times
when he riled her, and other times, like this, when she
felt she was catching a glimpse of the other side of the
man, the side that was dangerously likeable. I wish I
knew what bugs him, she thought.
The interlude was shortlived. Scott's pager broke
into their conversation and he eased himself out of the
chair to obey the summons. Anna could tell he was
trying not to show that he was suffering any discomfort.
He's probably only bruised his coccyx, she thought,
but said nothing, because she knew he would not take
advice from her.
That the incident with the flowers would have unex-
pected repercussions, Anna did not even consider. The
next day the surgical registrar was obviously very stiff,
although trying to disguise it.
'He ought to get his back X-rayed,' Simone
observed.
Anna shrugged. 'So I told him, but you know what
doctors are. Maybe we should have a word with one of
the others and get them to persuade him. Or maybe
Matron could.'
'Or we let him stew in his own juice,' said Simone
with humour rather than malice.

By the end of that Friday afternoon, Anna was
almost at the end of her tether. It had been a frantic
week and she was longing to get home, have a nice hot
scented bath, and go to bed. Maybe next week would
be better.
She was just clearing up some paperwork in her
office prior to handing over to the incoming nurse when
there was a rap at her door. She looked up to find that
her visitor was young Liz Farmer. That wasn't unusual,
but what was was that the girl's eyes were puffy and
red, although she had tried to disguise it with make-
up. She had obviously been crying.
'Liz, what's the matter?' Anna forgot her weariness
for a moment in her concern for the young nurse who
worried her quite a bit anyway.
'C-can I talk to you for a minute?' Liz asked hesi-
tantly. 'I—I know you're about to go off, but. . .'
'Is it important?' asked Anna, sensing it must be.
Liz nodded. 'Yes, it is. . .but if you. . .'
'Sit down, Liz. You'd better tell me about it.' Anna
waved her into a chair and looked anxiously across the
desk at the girl. The large blue eyes were about to brim
with tears, she suspected. 'Now, what's the problem?'
Liz was screwing a handkerchief into a tight ball in
her fists. She looked down into her lap for a moment,
then took a deep breath. 'I—I want to leave. . .'
Anna was shaken. 'Leave, Liz? You mean work in
another hospital?'
The girl shook her head. 'No. No, I want to leave
nursing. I—I don't think I'm cut out for it, Anna. I'm
too stupid and clumsy, and	'
'Hey, just a minute!' Shocked, Anna rose and went
around the desk to confront her at close quarters. 'Liz,
listen to me. Just because you make a few mistakes,

drop a few things, that doesn't mean you're not cut out
to be a nurse. A little more experience and you'll be
fine.'
But Liz was determined. 'I don't think so. I've been
thinking it over, and after—after Dr Carroll tripped up
yesterday because I wasn't looking where I was going
and I dropped some flowers and didn't notice—I mean,
I should have, shouldn't I? I should have wiped up the
water straight away, but I didn't think. . . I only
thought   about   getting   out   of there   and   away
from	' She broke off and clamped her lips tightly
together.
'He intimidates you, doesn't he?' said Anna, feeling
a wave of anger, both at Scott for his insensitivity and
Liz for her over-sensitiveness. She went on, 'I'm afraid
you're likely to meet quite a few people like that, Liz,
people who are always finding fault with you, but it
doesn't mean you're stupid or not cut out to be a nurse.
You just have to learn to take it in your stride.'
'As you do,' said Liz, smiling a little.
'Look, Dr Carroll drives me mad at times too,' Anna
admitted. 'But mostly he's right, you know. It's just
that he's a bit curt sometimes, maybe not as easygoing
as some doctors.'
Liz looked very wan. 'I can't sleep for worrying
about it,' she confessed. ' I know I'm not going to be
any good. I'm afraid I might do something really
terrible one day. I think I'd better give it up now before
I do. I know he thinks I'm hopeless, and I suppose you
all do too.'
Anna bit her lip. 'You like nursing, though?'
Liz swallowed and nodded. 'Yes. . . I always wanted
to look after sick people, but it's no good if you're the
wrong sort, and I am.'

Anna didn't know what to do. Liz had obviously
thought it over very thoroughly. What made her mad,
though, was that it was Scott Carroll's fault. He'd
undermined the girl's confidence. No, perhaps they
had all done that to an extent, but he had sent her over
the top. He'd reduced her to a bundle of nerves every
time she encountered him. Anna considered the girl
for a moment or two.
Eventually she said, 'Look, Liz, don't do anything
rash. If it's Dr Carroll who's getting under your skin,
maybe you can transfer to another ward—Medical or
Children's. Would you like me to have a word with
Matron?'
But Liz was adamant. 'No, it's no good, Anna. My
mind's made up. I really don't think I should stay in
nursing.'
Anna moistened her lips anxiously. 'Very well, Liz,
but I think you're making a mistake. You're giving in
too soon. Wasting all that training. All you need is a
bit more experience.'
Liz shook her head. She was more in control of
herself now. 'I know you're trying to be kind, but it's
no use.'
Anna's phone rang, and Liz slipped out of the office.
Anna turned to face out of her window as she talked
to the mother of the teenager who had had her
appendix out the previous day. The mountains were
clearly etched against the sky and clouds were piled up
behind them. While she talked, her mind was in
turmoil, her feelings churning because of Liz's visit.
And most of what she was feeling was anger towards
Scott Carroll. When she put the phone down and
turned, she was shocked to see him in the doorway.
She stared at him. She felt a mixture of extreme

tiredness and unleashed fury. She felt something inside
her snap and catapult her over the top. She had never
believed that people actually did see red, but at that
moment she did. Before he had a chance to say what
he wanted, she let fly.
'Dr Carroll, just the person I wanted to see! Do
come in!'
He looked mildly taken aback at her belligerent
tone, but moved into the office and shut the door. 'You
seem upset about something,' he observed.
'Upset? I'm livid! I've just had a junior nurse in here
wanting to resign—and it's all your fault!'
'My fault?'
'Yes. In fact I'm surprised, Dr Carroll, that half the
nursing staff in the MWH haven't resigned, those on
our surgical wards, anyway.'
'What in heaven's name are you talking about?' He
sounded annoyed now.
'I'm talking about your abrasiveness, Dr Carroll.
The way you ride roughshod over everybody, call
young nurses "stupid wench" and older ones too on
occasions! I'm talking about your constant fault-find-
ing, nit-picking, thoroughly aggravating attitude. I've
just had a girl in here whose self-esteem is at an all-
time low because you made her feel that way. Every
time you appear she goes to pieces. She's going to give
up nursing because you've made her feel she's hope-
less. You're the most insensitive, arrogant boor I've
ever come across!'
Dr Carroll stared at her as though she had gone
mad. 'How dare you speak to me like that?' he said
in a chilly tone, and turned and slammed out of her
office.
Anna sank into the chair Liz had vacated only

94	CROSSROADS OF THE HEART
minutes ago, her head in her hands. 'Oh, God,' she
moaned. 'What have I done?'
She looked up at the closed door on which there still
seemed to be an imprint of Dr Carroll's outraged face.
'Oh, Liz,' she whispered, 'I'll have to resign too now.'

CHAPTER  SIX

THERE was nothing like a hot, scented bath to soothe
away tiredness in the limbs and tension in the mind,
Anna thought as she luxuriated in the tub that evening.
'What a week!' she murmured aloud as she huddled
under the perfumed foam and let the warmth pervade
her whole body. It was hardly any wonder it had ended
the way it had. Poor Liz, she thought, but not poor
Anna. She would have to resign, of course. It would
be impossible to work with Scott now that she had
yelled at him in such an insulting way. Maybe she
should try and contact Matron over the weekend and
make a clean breast of it. Doubtless Matron would say
it would be better if Anna didn't even go back on
Monday. An ignominious departure, but at that
moment Anna would have welcomed that suggestion.
'What a mess!' she sighed regretfully. 'Why didn't I
keep my temper and just ask him to be a little more
considerate? I might even have persuaded Liz not to
quit, but I fluffed it. . .' She felt disgusted with herself.
It was ironic that she had been the one who had proved
to have a short fuse. She could still see Scott Carroll's
outraged expression as he'd slammed out of her office,
and it filled her with a strange mixture of fury and
sadness.
When the water cooled, she pulled the plug and
stepped out of the bath, wrapping herself in a warm
towel and vigorously drying her skin, which glowed
from the immersion in hot water. She flung on a dark

blue velour dressing-gown and matching slippers, and
screwed her hair, which she had put up while in the
bath, into a tighter knot, but damp tendrils still clung
to her temples and neck. She was tempted to go straight
to bed and let all her problems wait until tomorrow,
but she hankered for a cup of coffee and supposed she
ought to try and eat something. She'd had nothing
much for lunch again today. It was easier to believe
that the hollow feeling inside her was due only to
hunger.
She was making toasted sandwiches when the door-
bell rang. A little warily, she went into the hall and
called out, 'Who is it?'
The last person she expected answered, 'Scott
Carroll.'
Anna felt the blood drain from her cheeks. What on
earth was he doing here? She gave her slightly dishev-
elled appearance a frantic glance, then opened the
door. He didn't give her a chance to speak, but said
quickly, 'I think we need to talk.'
'Do we?' She just stared at him.
'We do,' he insisted, adding pointedly, 'It will be a
little chilly standing on the doorstep.'
Anna felt weak at the knees. 'Yes, I suppose so.'
He stepped into the hall and she closed the door.
When she turned, his gaze flicked over her. 'I'm sorry
for interrupting—you were. . .' he smiled in an awk-
ward kind of way '. . .washing your hair?'
'I just had a bath,' said Anna, unable to get any kind
of expression into her voice. She ran her hands ner-
vously down her dressing-gown. 'Sorry I'm not
dressed. . . I wasn't expecting. . .company. I was going
to have an early night.'

The dark eyebrows slid together. 'It's been a bad
week?'
'Hectic,' she admitted. Then, shrugging, 'But it often
is. That's nursing. I'm sure you find surgery even more
taxing.'
His eyes narrowed. 'You don't have to belittle what
you do.'
Anna stiffened. 'I wasn't. I have total respect for my
profession.' Did he think she despised nursing because
she'd wanted to be a doctor? The implication hurt,
which made her angry again.
He clapped a hand to his forehead. 'God, you're
touchy today. I didn't mean. . .' He looked at her
despairingly. ' I guess I shouldn't have come. I should
have given you time to calm down.'
Anna bit her lip. She wished he hadn't, and yet a
part of her she didn't understand was glad to see him.
But what was the point of their talking? Did he hope
to persuade her to apologise? Well, she would do so if
it would do any good, but she was afraid it wouldn't.
They would clash again. It would be better if she
resigned. She said, 'You'd better come and sit down.'
She led him into the living-room, and as she did so, the
smell of burning hit her nostrils. 'Oh, hell, my
sandwiches!'
She ran out to the kitchen, muttering crossly as she
extricated her burnt offering from under the grill and
tipped it into the garbage bucket. When she looked
round, Scott was lounging in the doorway.
'Sorry I distracted you,' he said.
His mild manner disconcerted her. 'Doesn't matter,
I can make some more,' she answered, then paused
expectantly. Whatever he had to say, let him say it
here now and go. He was making her feel edgy. And

then she heard herself saying, 'Have you had a meal?
I'll make you some too if you like.'
His astonishment was only momentary. 'That's very
kind. I haven't eaten, as a matter of fact. I wanted to
talk to you as soon as I could.'
Anna avoided his gaze. 'I guess I owe you an
apology,' she said, getting in first. 'I went a bit over the
top. It was just that Liz wanting to resign was the last
straw, and when you came in. . .' She slid the new
batch of sandwiches under the grill and set about
making another couple of rounds. 'In the circumstances
I've decided I must resign myself. I'll see Matron on
Monday.' She tried to sound matter-of-fact, to conceal
the raw emotion she felt.
Scott reacted unexpectedly. 'Not on my account you
won't!' He marched across the kitchen and grabbed
her by the shoulders. There was outrage of a different
kind in his eyes now. 'Don't be bloody stupid! There's
no earthly reason why you should resign. I behaved
abominably. And I'm here now to apologise.'
His grey eyes bored into hers until she felt her insides
melting, all her resolution blown to bits. She could only
give a rueful smile. 'You had reason enough to slam
out.' She jerked away from him to rescue the
sandwiches.
'Not if what you said was true.' He pulled out a chair
from the kitchen table and sank into it.
He was as weary as she, Anna thought. They'd both
been at flash point. She caught his eye again and saw
anguish in the grey depths. She had wounded the man,
she realised, with sudden sharp regret. 'Liz is very
sensitive,' she said slowly. 'She takes things to heart.
She was very upset, but I suppose I can try again to
talk her out of resigning.'

Scott looked at her for a long moment. Then quietly
he said, 'No, I'll talk to her.'
Anna's mouth dropped open, but she said nothing.
The thought of Dr Carroll trying to persuade Liz not
to give up nursing was a feat for the imagination, and
almost made her smile. But if he actually did. . . She
looked at him in wonderment. Humility didn't come
easily to anyone, and she admired him for what he'd
said.
She said simply, 'Thank you, Scott. I think that
would restore her confidence. She's not really a bad
nurse, just lacking self-esteem.'
'I know. . .'
Anna used the egg slice to transfer a round of perfect
golden toasted sandwiches on to a plate which she
pushed across the table to him. 'Coffee?' she asked,
and he nodded, then said,
'I don't suppose you've got anything stronger first up?'
'Wine? There's a cask of dry red.'
'I think that would go admirably with the feast,' he
said, and she felt herself relaxing. This was the Scott
Carroll she'd walked in the bush with, had tea with at
the Winston pub, the Scott who sometimes had a glint
of humour in his eyes, and who had impulsively kissed
her. . .
She fetched wine glasses and paper napkins and
joined him at the kitchen table, while still keeping an
eye on the grill. Scott filled their glasses from the cask.
He held his towards her.
'Cheers.'
'Cheers,' she replied, feeling a slow warmth stealing
over her.
They ate in silence. After the sandwiches, Anna

offered fruit, and finally the coffee which had been
keeping hot on its own hotplate.
Scott stirred a spoonful of sugar into his, then lifted
his gaze to Anna and said in a tone of real dismay,
'Have I really been so unbearable? A boor, an insensi-
tive wretch, a bad-tempered. . .?' He stopped, looking
more stricken than she would have thought possible. 'I
wasn't aware. . .'
Anna said quietly, 'Perhaps you had a reason. Some-
times people don't realise they're taking out their own
personal problems on others.' She paused, giving him
the opportunity to deny it.
He looked startled, then gave a lopsided grin.
'Maybe you ought to become a psychiatrist!'
She blushed. 'Sorry.'
There was a lengthy silence and Anna was sure she
had offended him by her oblique prying, but suddenly
he said, 'You're right, you know. That's probably what
I have been doing, not deliberately, but unconsciously.'
He brushed his hair back with both hands, in agitation,
then gave her a long considering look. 'I might as well
tell you, I suppose. You're not the kind who gossips.
I'm not making excuses, and I'm not looking for
sympathy—but I do have a big problem in my life. . .'
'You don't have to tell me about it,' she said
hurriedly. 'It's enough to. . .'
He smiled at her wryly. 'Maybe I need to talk about
it. Maybe bottling it all up has been half the problem.
My problem, Anna, is—my wife.'
She drew a sharp breath and a feeling of intense
disappointment flooded over her. He was married.
Well, she ought not to be surprised at that, a good-
looking man of his age.

'Scott, are you sure you want to tell me about her?'
she asked, not sure she wanted to hear after all.
He ignored that protest too. "There isn't much to
tell,' he said. 'Janis and I married five years ago, and
we've been living apart for the past two. At first I
thought separation would ultimately lead to reconcilia-
tion, but it didn't. She's divorcing me—with my con-
sent. It was a strange feeling when she told me. I
experienced the most overwhelming sense of—of void.
It was. . .' He raked his hair again, unable to find
adequate words to explain.
Anna suggested softly, 'A sense of failure?'
He nodded bleakly. 'Yes, exactly that. And a blow
to my ego too, I suppose. I felt cast off, unwanted, like
something that hasn't come up to expectations and has
been discarded.'
'Is she marrying someone else?' she queried.
'No.' He laughed harshly. 'No, she's married to her
career. She's a gynaecologist, with sky's-the-limit
ambitions. She has a chance to go overseas and thinks
it might be better if she's totally free.'
'Do you still love her?' she dared to ask.
He looked startled at the question, was silent for a
moment, then said, 'No, I don't think so. How can you
still love someone who's drained you dry of everything
you can offer and then abandoned you?'
Anna smiled. 'People are quite extraordinary some-
times where emotions are concerned.'
'I admire her,' he admitted reluctantly. 'She's never
let anything stand in her way. Being a woman has
never been an obstacle to Janis. She married me, I
suspect, because it brought her in touch with people
she thought might help her career, which it did, and I
didn't mind that. . .' He banged his palms helplessly

on the table. 'But now she doesn't have any more use
for me. . .'
'That's pretty hard to take,' said Anna. 'I'm not
surprised you feel used, and frustrated and at odds with
the world.'
'I'm saying it's Janis's fault, that she made me mean,'
he said, 'and that's not fair really—to blame her. It's
not all her fault that our marriage was a failure. I
should have had more sense, I should have been more
aware of the kind of person I was marrying, but I fell
for her, her looks, her strong personality, her. . .'
'Sexuality,' said Anna, a little shocked at her daring.
Scott looked a shade embarrassed. 'All right, yes.
She was good in bed. . .' He turned his palms upwards.
'Relationships based only on sex seldom last. I've only
got myself to blame.'
'And you blame yourself too much,' Anna said.
'When you're lashing out at other people you're really
lashing out at yourself. And at Janis too. You can't
hurt her, so you hurt others.'
'You put it in a nutshell. Not a very nice picture, is
it?'
'It's pretty normal,' she said encouragingly. 'You'll
probably see things differently once your divorce is
through. At the moment you're probably subcon-
sciously still hoping for a miracle, that maybe she'll
change her mind, want a reconciliation after all.'
'It wouldn't work,' Scott said gloomily. 'I realise that
now.'
'No, but it would restore your self-esteem, put you
back in charge, reverse that terrible sense of failure
you're suffering.'
He looked at her musingly. 'You're probably right.
But there's no chance she'll want me back. None at

all.' He balled a fist and slammed it into his other hand.
'Anna, thank you for listening to me. And thank you
for trying to help. I'm sorry I barged in on you when
you meant to have an early night, but I couldn't let
things stand as they were. You gave me one hell of a
jolt, which I needed. I hope I won't give you cause to
read the riot act to me again!' He paused, smiling.
'You won't resign?'
'No—not yet, anyway.'
'Not until you decide to take up medicine again?'
'If I do. . .'
Scott rose hurriedly and then involuntarily sagged,
his hand on the small of his back as a short sharp grunt
of pain escaped him.
'Your back!' exclaimed Anna, getting up too. 'You
really ought to let someone look at it.'
He grimaced and slowly straightened up. 'I did. I
had an X-ray just before I came to your office and you
flew at me.'
'What did you come for?' she asked.
'Oh, just to have a look at some case-notes, nothing
urgent,' he said dismissively.
'And the X-ray. Did you get the result?'
'Yes. Nothing chipped or cracked or damaged. Just
a strain.' He rummaged in his pocket. 'Pharmacy gave
me this and said to rub it in before I went to bed.' He
tossed the tube of deep heat treatment on the table.
'That should help,' she agreed, reading the label.
'It'd better. I've got a big list tomorrow.'
'Yes, you have,' she murmured, remembering. 'But
they're mostly elective, aren't they? They can be put
off if necessary.'
'I hate putting people off,' said Scott. 'It's a real let-
down once they've psyched themselves up to have the

op. Then they've got to go through it all again.' He
moved gingerly. 'Well, I'd better be going. Let you get
to bed.'
Anna accompanied him to the front door, but was
concerned at the stiff way he walked, as though his
back was causing considerable pain. He glanced at her.
'I seem to have seized up.'
'Well, don't forget to use that rub,' she reminded
him.
'Yes, Sister—I mean, no, Sister!'
The look on his face was one of stoic endurance.
Anna didn't know whether he lived alone or not, so
she said, 'I hope there's someone who can rub your
back for you? You can't really massage it properly
yourself.'
'No, there isn't. I live alone,' he said. 'But don't
worry, I'll manage.'
She heard herself saying impulsively, 'I'll rub it for
you if you like.'
'No. . .really. . .'
'Come on, it won't take long. Give me that tube.'
He looked taken aback, and she laughed. 'What's
the matter? I'm a nurse. You'd let Marie do it,
wouldn't you?'
A defensive look came into his eyes. 'She's a
physiotherapist.'
'And I'm not. I'm not going to try and give you a
full-scale massage, Dr Carroll, just a rub,' Anna said,
amused now. 'I'm quite competent to do that. You
needn't strip off! If you just come into the living-room,
loosen your trousers a little and pull up your sweater,
I'll be able to hit the spot quite easily.'
He hobbled into the living-room and, as Anna then
suggested, leaned forward over the back of an armchair

instead of lying down. She warmed her hands in front
of the fire, then uncapped the tube and squeezed some
of the pinkish cream on to her fingertips. A strong
eucalyptus vapour made her nostrils tingle.
'Smells like powerful stuff,' Scott said, pulling his
sweater up and yanking his shirt out of his trousers to
reveal an expanse of tanned muscular back. He loos-
ened his strides and eased them down his hips a little.
Anna noticed a rim of dark blue briefs.
She placed a hand on the small of his back in the
right lumbar region. 'Now tell me where it hurts most.'
She began slow circular movements, spreading the
cream across his lower back.
'Bit to the left,' he said. 'Yes, more on the left side.
Mmm, that's it. . .ah. . .yes. . .ouch!'
'Sorry!' Anna gently massaged the cream in.
Although his skin and her hands were warm, it took
quite a time to disappear.
'Mmm, that's the spot,' Scott murmured once or
twice. 'Maybe you should take up physiotherapy.'
'It's too much like hard work,' she said. 'You need
stamina for that job. But I've had quite a bit of
experience of this. My mother had a bad back.' She
was beginning to wish she had not offered to rub the
doctor's. There was something a little too intimate
about it, and her initial clinical detachment was becom-
ing overlaid by a distinctly pleasurable sensation, a
desire to caress rather than rub. At last the cream
disappeared, leaving a reddened patch.
'There you are—done,' said Anna, taking her hand
away. 'That should ease it a bit.'
Scott turned round without effort. 'Mmm, feels
better already.' He was smiling in a way she had never
seen before, and it made the colour surge into her face.

'You'd better see Marie tomorrow,' Anna advised.
'She'll give you a real massage.'
'I think the present one was quite satisfactory,' Scott
said, and the direction of his gaze drew her horrified
attention to the fact that the exertion of rubbing his
back had caused her dressing-gown cord to slacken and
that now the crossover revealed rather more of the
swell of her breasts than she felt comfortable about.
With her hands still sticky with the rub, she was
reluctant to adjust her dressing-gown. Hands napping,
she said as composedly as possible, 'I'd better wash my
hands. Can you let yourself out?'
Scott looked at her for a moment, then deftly
gathered her in a tight embrace. His mouth devoured
hers with a desperate hunger, more passionately than
that day by the waterfall, and Anna felt her whole
body go slack. He held her fiercely and she felt the fire
burning in him begin to consume her also. No one, she
realised in panic, had ever stirred her senses quite like
this.
'Anna. . .' Scott lifted his lips from hers, and there
was a wild kind of light in his grey eyes which might
have been the reflection of the fire or something more
dangerous. 'Anna, do you have any idea how beautiful
you are?' His hands brushed roughly up her arms,
gripping her shoulders, and she was drawn hard against
him as he leaned on the back of the chair, all back pain
forgotten. He took a strand of her hair and curled it
around one finger, smiling as though a little bemused.
Then he reached into the pile of hair behind her head
and released it from the combs she had used to pin it
up while she had her bath. The dark waves cascaded
down over her shoulders and he ran his fingers through
the silky tresses with obvious enjoyment.

'You're a very tantalising woman,' he murmured,
and bent his head to kiss the curve of her shoulder,
trailing his mouth nimbly across her collarbone, and
before she realised his intention his hands had pushed
aside the loosened gown and exposed one breast.
Seeing the hardened nipple which she was powerless to
control, he lowered his mouth to taste the rosy tip, and
she shuddered with an exquisite pleasure.
Realising now that she was in fact naked under the
dressing-gown, he took full advantage of the fact and
sensuously caressed her thigh while drawing her closer
and claiming her mouth once more. Mesmerised by the
heightening of her own as well as his desire, Anna was
unable to prevent her own responses, which encour-
aged him all the more. Never in her life before had
such delicious sensations overwhelmed her body.
At last Scott broke the kiss and smiled at her
smoulderingly. 'Maybe it's just as well you don't intend
taking up physio. . .your massaging is a mite too
inflammatory!'
Anna had never felt so confused. She burbled idioti-
cally, 'I must wash this stuff off my hands.'
He chuckled, drawing her back between his thighs.
'I don't know what you've done to me, Anna, but I
haven't let go like this in a long time. . .'
'Neither have I!' she exclaimed, hands still flapping
stupidly because although she ached to touch him, she
didn't want to put grease on his clothes.
'All the time you were rubbing my back it was
agony,' he confessed.
'I thought it was helping.'
'The backache, yes, but you have the kind of hands
that are very arousing, Anna. I was burning to touch
you too. . .'

108	CROSSROADS OF THE HEART
'You seem to have succeeded somewhat,' she said in
a dry tone. She tried to pull away. 'I think this has
gone far enough, Dr Carroll. Please let me go. I think
we both got a bit carried away.'
'Of course we did. Why not? I'm very attracted to
you, Anna. I found you quite irresistible the day I
knocked you off your bicycle and for one ghastly
moment I thought I'd killed you. All those damn
freesias scattered over you, like a funeral. . .'
She could not help a chuckle. 'You called me a
stupid wench.'
'I know. You had to be, or else it was all my
fault. . .which it was. I was going too fast.' He cupped
her face in his hands and kissed her lips. 'Let's make
love, Anna,' he whispered softly. 'I want you so
much. . .'
And I want you, Anna thought, her need a desperate
ache. For a moment she forgot her hands were still
sticky with the rub and let them touch his hair, stray
down his backbone, then as the fires within responded,
she struggled to free herself again.
'No, Scott. . .' And she was saying, fatuously, 'My
hands are all sticky.'
He tightened his grip on her waist. 'If I let you go
and wash them, you won't come back, will you?'
Caught out, she shook her head. 'Scott, I do find you
very attractive, but I don't think. . .well, I—don't go
to bed with someone just because he. . .' She didn't
know how to make her refusal sound rational.
He released her abruptly. 'No, of course not. Per-
haps it was rather impetuous of me.' He gave her a
long look that almost catapulted her back into his arms.
Then he laughed. 'I dare say, in view of the state of my
back,   also   somewhat   foolish!   Not   to   mention

CROSSROADS OF THE HEART	109
ambitious.' He caught her in his arms again, but lightly
now. 'Thank you, Anna. You did me the world of good
tonight. And I don't just mean the back rub. You
eased a lot of other pain as well.' He pushed her gently
away. 'Now go and wash that stuff off your hands, and
go to bed. And don't worry about Liz—I'll talk to her.'
He tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt, pulled
his sweater down over it, and made for the front door.
Anna muttered a feeble goodnight, and when he had
gone she stood for a long time in the dark hallway, her
eyes filled with tears.

CHAPTER   SEVEN

' I DON'T know why everyone laughs,' complained
Margery Watts, a new patient in the women's surgical
ward. 'A bunion is a very painful condition.' She smiled
goodhumouredly none the less as she accepted the pre-
medication Fran was offering her.
'We're not laughing,' said Fran, straight-faced, 'are
we, Anna?'
'Definitely not,' agreed Anna, her mouth crinkling
at the corners. She was checking on the patients due
for operations that morning. Mrs Watts was first on the
list. She said, 'I think it must have been that old music-
hall song in which the woman sings about raising a
bunion on his Spanish onion, if she catches her man
bending. I'm afraid it always strikes me as anatomically
a bit odd.'
'Can you have a bunion on the coccyx?' asked Fran,
and Anna shrugged her doubt.
Margery laughed. 'My mother used to love those old
music-hall songs. We used to sing around the piano
when I was a girl.' She sighed nostalgically, 'And we
went to dances every Saturday night. We didn't have
television, of course, but we didn't miss it!'
'And by the time you were into high heels, pointy
toes were in fashion,' Anna said. 'Dancing in tight
shoes was probably the start of your trouble.'
The patient agreed. 'When you've got largish feet,
like me, you do tend to try and cram them into shoes
that are too small. Oh, I remember agonies, dancing in

tight shoes! In the hot weather, my feet would
swell. . .' She winced with the recollection.
'Well, if you take good care after the operation, you
should have no more problems with this foot,' Anna
told her. 'And the other one isn't so bad. You mightn't
need an op on that one, I think Dr Carroll said.'
Margery was already relaxing as intended. She
nodded and smiled dreamily. 'Dr Carroll's a lovely
man, isn't he?'
'A very good surgeon,' Anna agreed, not to be
drawn into giving an opinion on his personality.
But Fran said, 'He's not always as sweet-tempered
with the staff as he is with the patients, Margery.'
Margery sighed. 'It probably depends who he's sweet
on! Maybe he doesn't want to give you girls any wrong
ideas. He's not the sort of man to philander, I'd say.'
Fran snorted, 'You can say that again!' She added,
'We'll be back for you shortly. You're lucky being first.
It'll all be over and done with by morning teatime!'
A short time later, back in her office for a few
moments, Anna paused and gazed out of the window
at the mountains. She was still wondering anxiously
how Scott was this morning, but there had been no
direct word from him. It would not be surprising if he
avoided her, she realised. She wasn't sure how she
would cope with a confrontation after all that had
happened on Friday. Especially on Friday evening. . .
Her skin tingled at the memory, as it had done all
weekend whenever she thought of Scott Carroll's kiss,
his sensuous caressing, and the extraordinary pleasure
she had experienced in his arms. It was crazy. One
minute on Friday afternoon she had been yelling at
him, and only hours later she had been in his arms.
One minute she'd been furious with him, then the next

rubbing his injured back. Thinking about what he had
told her, and how she had reacted to him, made her go
hot and cold by turns, and however she tried to
rationalise it her emotions still ended up in confusion.
How was he feeling? she wondered. Probably he was
regretting the impulse that had made him react so
strongly to her. And what about Liz? That problem
still hovered around the edge of Anna's thoughts. Liz
was on duty this shift, but apart from a brief greeting
Anna had had no conversation with her. The ward was
extra busy, with several patients going to Theatre that
morning, and Anna knew she would not have a chance
to speak to her until later in the day, and she wasn't
sure what she would say when the opportunity did
occur. Would Scott talk to her as he'd promised? Anna
felt doubtful. On reflection, he might decide he'd been
rather rash and change his mind about that.
Anna was having a cup of coffee mid-morning when
Marie, the physiotherapist, looked in on her way to
attending to several patients who needed her attention.
'Hi, Anna.' She folded her arms across her chest and
with mock severity demanded, 'What have you lot
been doing to Dr Carroll?'
The question was so unexpected, Anna felt her
cheeks warm. 'Doing?' she queried.
'He tripped on spilt flowers, so he told me,' said
Marie, her face breaking into a grin. 'On your ward.
He came along for a ten-minute massage before oper-
ating this morning. I told him he shouldn't be operat-
ing, but he insisted. No doubt he'll stiffen up and need
another session afterwards.'
'His back's still painful?' asked Anna, all too vividly
reminded of her own efforts at massaging Scott's back,
and wondering if he would have told Marie about it.

No, she reflected, it was unlikely he would have done
that.
'Yes, but there's no real damage—he had it X-rayed.
So you can breathe again—he won't be suing!'
'Do you think he ought to be operating?' Anna
queried.
'Oh, he'll be OK so long as he takes a couple of
suitable strong painkillers and doesn't bend or reach
too far too suddenly,' said Marie confidently. She
laughed. 'I dare say the smell of liniment will gag the
rest of his team, though! And he's bound to get a few
ribald remarks thrown at him by one of our smart-
Aleck interns.'
Anna felt her cheeks warming again. Nobody knew
that Scott Carroll had been at her place on Friday
night, nobody knew that such ribald remarks might just
have had some substance if Scott hadn't already ricked
his back.
'Well, I hope he doesn't get any violent twinges,' she
said. 'It could be dangerous—to the patient, I mean.'
Marie was still amused by the situation. 'And the
staff! You know how tetchy he can be at times, and
lumbago is not a complaint to put one in a good mood.'
She added seriously, 'But I don't think Dr Carroll
would ever do anything that might endanger a patient.
If he didn't think he was capable of operating today,
he wouldn't do it. I've no worries, Anna. He'll just be
a bit stiff later, that's all. Be nice to him! If you don't
want a ton of bricks to fall, humour the man.'
'We do!' returned Anna, smiling as though it were a
joke. Would Scott be any different, she wondered,
since their talk on Friday? Would her yelling at him
really make any difference?
Marie breezed off to her patients, and Anna thought-

fully contemplated the white wall of her office. But
there was no time for lengthy contemplation; there was
too much to do with patients returning to the ward
from the theatre, and that afternoon they would be
admitting two new ones. She went to find Fran, whose
quiet competence kept the ward running smoothly
whatever the crises.
Anna had just supervised the return to the ward of
the last patient on the operating list, yet another
appendicectomy, and was thinking about snatching
some lunch, when Liz approached her rather
diffidently.
'Anna, can you spare a minute?'
Anna nodded and ushered Liz into her office, pre-
paring herself to take up where they'd left off on
Friday. She was determined to try and persuade Liz to
change her mind, but she couldn't say that Scott would
speak to her in case he'd changed his mind about that.
So how could she convince Liz that things would be
different? She wasn't at all sure herself that they would
be.
Liz shook her head when invited to sit down. 'It
won't take a minute,' she said. 'I just wanted to tell
you I've changed my mind, and I'm sorry I went off
the handle a bit last Friday. . .'
Anna felt a huge sigh of relief escape her. She smiled
broadly. 'Liz, I'm so glad. . . I was afraid you were
going to act hastily. . .but you thought it over at the
weekend, did you?'
'No, I didn't,' Liz confessed. 'My mind was quite
made up. I was going to tell you today and ask how I
went about resigning, but. . .'
Anna's eyes were widening. 'But what?'
Liz screwed her face up and looked embarrassed.

'Dr Carroll sent for me a few minutes ago and he—he
talked me out of it.' She looked astonished.
'Did he indeed?' Anna pretended not to have any
prior knowledge of his intention. 'And how did he
manage that?'
'He said you'd told him I was planning to give up
nursing, and he said it was a terrible waste of all that
training if I did. He was so nice, Anna. . .' Liz
chuckled. 'He even said he was sorry if he was some-
times a bit grumpy and bowled people out, but that
doctors and nurses were all humans too and had to
learn to be tolerant of each other, and considerate. He
said he knew he wasn't always as considerate as he
might be, but he believed in the highest of standards
for himself and everyone else and was very impatient
with sloppiness. He sort of apologised for being
efficient!'
'I can see you were charmed,' Anna remarked.
Liz spread her hands. 'How could I help it? He was
so different, and he made me feel so much better about
everything. He said I mustn't give up just because I felt
everyone was picking on me, but to try and learn from
my mistakes. He said he thought most of it was
probably only in my mind anyway, because from what
he'd heard I was getting on all right. . .' She looked
anxiously at Anna.
'Of course you are,' said Anna. 'And he's right—
we've all been through similar bad patches. It comes
from being conscientious, which isn't a bad fault.' She
smiled encouragingly. 'Another six months and you'll
wonder what you were worrying about. So, no more
talk about resigning?'
'I couldn't now, could I?' said Liz. 'Not after Dr
Carroll's been so kind. . .' She faltered, 'I—I don't

feel quite so intimidated by him now. Underneath he's
really quite nice, isn't he?'
'Yes, I think he is,' agreed Anna. She added with
another smile, 'And I think you really do like nursing,
don't you, Liz?'
The young nurse answered softly, 'Yes, I do. Very
much.'
'And that's what counts. Enthusiasm and dedication,
and a strong sense of your responsibilities. I think
you'll make a very good nurse, Liz. If you find things
getting you down, don't be afraid to come and have a
chat so we can sort things out before they get too
desperate.'
'That's what Dr Carroll said I must do,' said Liz,
wide-eyed. 'He said you were the kind of person who
could solve most problems.'
'Did he?' Anna felt a warm glow at the reported
compliment, but was unwilling to agree with it. 'Well,
I think he's a bit off the mark there, but it's always
worth talking over a problem, I think. Sometimes it
just helps you to work out the solution for yourself.'
When Liz had gone, Anna breathed a silent thank-
you to Scott Carroll. It couldn't have been easy to
apologise to a junior nurse, but he'd done it, and she
admired him for that. Now, she reflected in amuse-
ment, he had probably gained a devoted slave for life—
as well as a good many more points on her table of
estimation. Not the least of them was for keeping to
his operating schedule today despite back pain. And
he'd managed to find the time to keep his promise to
talk to Liz as well.
Knowing that Scott would eventually come to see
the patients he had operated on that morning, Anna
found herself in a state of mixed dread and anticipation

as she faced the afternoon. Every glimpse of a white
coat, a dark head, made her heart pound, but it was
when she was least expecting him that Scott finally
visited the ward.
Anna had been having a reassuring chat to a new
patient who had been admitted for surgery for a
particularly severe hiatus hernia. She had told the
patient that the surgeon and the anaesthetist would
explain exactly what was going to happen, and that the
slight discomfort she would experience after the oper-
ation would only be very temporary.
'We'll have your chest X-rayed the day after sur-
gery,' Anna told her, 'and if everything is OK Dr
Carroll will remove the drain which he will have
inserted to carry away any blood or secretions. We'll
keep you in for a few days just to make sure you're
healing properly, but recovery after this operation is
usually very fast, with no problems.'
'I still don't like the idea of it,' insisted the middle-
aged woman. 'I've never been in hospital in my life
before.'
Anna said consolingly, 'Then just think of it as an
interesting experience.'
As she stepped outside the room into the corridor
and was about to cross it to her office, Scott Carroll
burst through the double doors behind her.
'Anna!'
Her thoughts had for once been miles away from
him and the sound of his voice sent fiery shocks through
her. She turned round. 'Oh, hello. . .' She was sure
her face was scarlet, and certainly her knees were
trembling. She felt as tongue-tied as a first-year student
in the presence of a professor, and just stood there

staring at him. He seemed equally interested in
appraising her.
Finally he said, 'Everything OK?'
Anna came to her senses. 'If you mean the patients
who had surgery this morning, yes. You've come to see
them?' Fatuous question, of course he had.
'And you. . .' he murmured, with the kind of look
she would have preferred not to have to cope with on
duty.
'How's your back?' she asked, walking briskly
towards the ward where most of the post-operative
patients were. 'I hear you had to have physiotherapy
this morning to make you fit to operate.'
He let his hand rest on her shoulder. 'Yes. It works
for surgeons just as much as for footballers. Mind you,
I felt pretty stiff after eight ops—still do. I have to be
careful not to bend too low.'
Anna paused at the ward door. 'Liz told me you'd
spoken to her. I want to thank you. . .'
He shrugged. 'I suppose she'll tell the whole
hospital.'
'I doubt it. Liz is a quiet one, and doesn't gossip. I
don't think she'd want to talk about wanting to resign.'
The door opened and Fran almost walked into them,
bearing a bedpan.
'Oops, sorry,' she said, giving Scott an uncertain
glance as though she expected him to say something.
Dr Carroll frowned but said nothing. He and Anna
went into the ward, and Fran, joining Liz in the sluice,
said, 'Do you know, I've got a feeling that Dr Carroll
has taken a fancy to our Anna Mackay, and that maybe
it's mutual.'
Liz's eyes widened. 'Really? Why?'
'They were lurking together outside the door of

Room Four, and she was decidedly pink! And I've
never seen him looking as though butter wouldn't melt
in his mouth before. Maybe that's all he needs—a good
woman to thaw him out!'
Liz smiled to herself. Maybe the thawing of Dr
Carroll did have something to do with Anna. She was
mature and attractive and efficient, just the sort of
woman you'd expect him to be interested in. Her own
foolish fancy quickly evaporated, without rancour, and
she returned to her task with a resigned shrug. If she
was going to daydream about doctors, she'd better
stick to intern Tom Rolfe. At least he had asked her
out. . .
Dr Carroll had taken a fancy to Sister Mackay, and
it was worrying him. He felt a little ashamed of his
brash behaviour on Friday night and suspected that her
stiffness with him today was because of it. She was
probably feeling a little bit ashamed herself for allowing
him to take even such minor liberties as he had. Anna,
he believed, was not prim, but perhaps not as fully
aware of her sexuality as she'd imagined. Or he'd
imagined. She'd given him a bit of a jolt, and it had
been her instinctive response that had made him
assume too much.
All the time they were with the patients he was
strongly aware of her trim but voluptuous figure close
beside him, the faint flowery perfume that clung to her,
not from scent but from some soap or shampoo she
used. She had had the same aura on Friday when he
had disturbed her just out of her bath. Glancing at her,
his eyes stripped away the neat pale blue uniform and
replaced it with the blue velour dressing-gown that had
so invitingly fallen open, and he ached suddenly to feel
those small but strong hands on his body again. . . It

had been a long time since he'd made love to a woman,
so long that probably no one would believe in his
abstinence. But after Janis, Scott had retreated physi-
cally and mentally from women, instinctively shying
away from any kind of involvement, until one morning
he'd knocked a girl off her bicycle and now, for some
unknown reason, he seemed to have a dilemma. He'd
better be careful, he advised himself. She wasn't the
kind of woman he wanted to get involved with.
Back in her office some time later, Scott checked
over prescriptions and instructions for the care of his
various patients. Anna ordered tea and they conferred
at length. Anna had at first been a little miffed by his
attention to detail—and had been more than once
tempted to tell him that nurses did know a thing or two
about caring for patients, that they did several years'
training in the art and did not have to have all the 'i's
dotted and 't's crossed, but she had balked at aggravat-
ing him unnecessarily. Now she was more inclined to
admire him for his thoroughness.
Finally he said, 'Well, I think that's all.' He drained
his cup and asked, 'Any more tea in that pot?'
Anna reached for it. 'I think so.' She refilled his cup
and there was enough for her too.
'Did you go bushwalking at the weekend?' Scott
enquired.
'No.'
His eyes narrowed a little. 'Other things to do?'
Anna tossed her head and said lightly, 'There's
always plenty to do.'
'You've got a string of boyfriends, I suppose?' He
wondered why he'd asked that. It was of no interest to
him whether she had one or a hundred.
'Dozens!' She gave him a dry look. 'None, actually.

When my mother was alive I didn't have time for much
social activity—whatever I had, I had with her.'
Scott realised that all weekend he'd been imagining
her with some other man, and now, alarmingly, he was
relieved to find she hadn't been. 'Except bushwalking.'
Anna nodded. 'She insisted I take up some interest
that didn't involve her. We needed to have time away
from each other. She played bridge.'
'There's a walk next weekend,' Scott dropped the
unplanned remark in casually. 'Are you going?'
'I might,' she answered cautiously.
'I might too,' he said, fixing her with penetrating
grey eyes. 'Especially if you say you'll have dinner with
me afterwards.' He wasn't sure if he was in his right
mind, but she was proving irresistible.
'I don't know if. . .'
'I won't be as ungallant as I was on Friday,' Scott
promised.
Anna smiled. 'Were you ungallant?'
'I perhaps deserved to have my face slapped, but
you're too ladylike to do such a thing.'
'Perhaps I should have.'
There was a pause. 'You haven't answered the
question,' he reminded her.
'Well, I did rather enjoy the Winston pub,' Anna
said carefully.
'Another time, maybe,' said Scott. 'I was thinking of
changing and driving to Ballarat for a meal. There's a
bigger choice of restaurants than in Mount William.' It
could be regarded as a kind of apology, he rationalised.
'And less likelihood of being seen,' she remarked.
'Anna, it isn't that I don't want to be seen with you,'
he told her at once. 'It's just that—well, I like my

privacy when I'm off duty. I'm not the fraternising
type.'
'Neither am I,' Anna said. 'I didn't mean it the way
you took it.'
Scott glanced at his watch. 'I'd better go—I've got a
couple of male patients to look at. We had a prostat-
ectomy that proved to be a tricky one this morning.'
Anna said, 'I hope your back will be better by
Sunday.'
'So do I, but walking will probably be good for it.'
For Anna it was suddenly a long week. Things quiet-
ened down at the hospital, and although she should
have been delighted not to be rushed off her feet she
found herself having more time to think about Sunday.
That she was looking forward to it there was no doubt,
but was going out with Scott Carroll wise? Several
times she asked herself this question, and never really
got a satisfactory answer.
Scott appeared on the ward as usual, was demanding
and sometimes critical, but to Anna he seemed differ-
ent. Less abrasive, she thought, as though he was
thinking first before slamming into someone, pulling
himself up. He still had them all on their toes, but
there was a subtle difference, she felt, and wondered if
others noticed too.
By Friday Meg certainly had.
'How'd you tame Carroll?' she demanded, when
they were sharing a midnight mug of cocoa as they
occasionally did if Anna had not gone to bed early.
Anna laughed. 'Is he tame?'
'Well, it suddenly occurred to me today that I'd been
getting on with him better,' Meg admitted. 'He does
seem to have mellowed.'

'Maybe you did the taming.'
'You must have noticed,' Meg said, eyeing her
house-mate narrowly.
Anna felt guilty because she hadn't confided in Meg,
but somehow she couldn't. Not just because she didn't
want to break a confidence, but because she didn't
want Meg asking probing questions about her own
feelings towards the registrar.
'Perhaps he is a little less abrasive lately,' Anna said
carefully. 'Maybe he just took time to settle in, Meg,
to get used to us and for us to get used to him.'
'Yes, I suppose so,' Meg conceded. 'I suppose we do
tend to take people at face value rather too readily and
judge them arbitrarily. Maybe whatever it was that was
bugging him has been resolved.' She grinned. 'Are you
sure it isn't your doing?'
'Have a heart!' protested Anna.
'Well, you do go bushwalking together.'
'Once!' Anna bit her lip and felt bound to confess,
'Well, he's going this weekend, I gather, but. . .'
'And you're not staying home. Well, why should
you? If you fancy the man, go for it, Anna. He's good-
looking, clever, and can probably whisk you away from
all this eventually if he's a mind to.' Meg gave a
dramatic sigh.
'You're fantasising!'
'Which you, of course, never do! Come on, Anna,
don't be coy. I won't tell. Do you fancy him?'
'I have a great deal of admiration for him,' Anna
confessed, still wondering whether to say anything
about having dinner with Scott. Somehow she still
didn't want to admit to too close a relationship, because
Meg would be bound to read volumes into it.

Meg threw her knitting down and drained her cocoa.
'I think you're falling in love with him.'
'That's a typical remark from a lovesick woman,'
Anna said, laughing.
'Well, I should know,' said Meg seriously.
'How's your remance with Peter?' Anna asked.
'When do you see him? You're on duty most evenings.
Why don't you try and change to a day shift for a
while?'
Meg picked up her knitting again. 'Oh, it's all part
of the excitement—snatching time together when he
comes up to the hospital, meeting him for lunch, and
of course there are my weekends off.' She trailed away
blissfully. 'Weekends are wonderful!'
'I did kind of gather that.' Anna gathered up the
mugs and yawned. 'I'm for bed.' She paused in the
doorway. 'Are you two going to get married?'
Meg looked at her with a wistful expression. 'I hope
so. Ask me again in a week or two.'

On Saturday night Meg did not come home after a date
with Peter. She had warned Anna. 'Don't send out
search parties,' she'd said offhandedly. 'It might turn
out to be embarrassing!'
Anna was still awake long after midnight, not worry-
ing about Meg, but thinking about her own date with
Scott the following day. He had naturally insisted on
picking her up, but that was not what was teasing her
mind. It was the thought of having dinner with him as
a more formal arrangement than the previous occasion,
and wondering how she would cope with the
consequences.
Scott arrived early on Sunday morning, and Anna
was glad that Meg was still asleep. She was on duty

that evening and probably would have left by the time
Scott drove Anna home to change and then picked her
up again later. It wasn't that she didn't want Meg to
know about her activities, but that she was afraid Meg
might say something off putting, particularly in view of
the romantic state she was in.
Anna was ready to go when Scott arrived. She was
wearing her green parka and brown trousers, sturdy
bushwalking boots, and carrying a backpack containing
lunch for both of them which she had insisted on
preparing in return for the lift he was giving her.
Her hair was neatly coiled and pushed under a
peaked cap and she had bought herself some binocu-
lars. Scott looked her over approvingly as she slid into
the passenger seat, then remarked on the binoculars
hanging around her neck.
'You took my advice and got eight by forty.'
'Yes. I think they're quite good ones.'
He lifted them for closer inspection, which brought
him closer to her, almost, she thought, close enough to
kiss. . . 'Fairly expensive, by the look of them.' He
smiled. 'Let's hope we see some birds to justify the
expense!'
It was almost a disappointing day. Anna enjoyed the
walking, she enjoyed Scott's company and the way he
was content to go for miles without saying much, unless
to draw her attention to some bird or other. It was
companionable, and for most of the time she almost
forgot about the other members of the party. But there
was no waterfall where they stopped for lunch, no
creek to be helped across, and no magic moment all
alone with Scott like the time before. They were more
a part of the group this time, and Anna felt that in
some way she had been cheated.

You fool, she told herself, as she snatched a quick
shower before changing to go out again. What's the
matter with you?
For dining out, she chose a pink wool dress and
loose-fitting jacket. She let her hair hang loose and
added a little eyeshadow to her make-up. She was just
sliding her feet into black patent court shoes when the
doorbell rang. She picked up her black patent handbag
and hurried to answer it.
Scott looked suave in a navy suit and pale blue shirt.
He was freshly shaved, Anna noticed, and his hair was
slicked back and still damp. He smelled of an astrin-
gently masculine aftershave. He showed no sign of
back trouble until getting into the car, when his face
twitched slightly as he slid behind the wheel.
'Your back still troubling you?' Anna asked in
surprise.
'The occasional twinge,' he admitted, 'when I move
awkwardly. Incipient arthritis, I suppose.' He turned
to smile at her. 'I'm not as young as I used to be.'
'Oh, hark at the old man!' she joked, and the slight
constraint which had seemed between them faded as
Scott grinned at her.
He seemed to know his way around Ballarat as he
did around everywhere else, and Anna found herself
ushered into a restaurant she hadn't even known
existed, although she was fairly familiar with many of
the local venues. It was a small intimate place and their
table was in a far corner against a wall.
For a while they talked about bushwalking and some
of the people in the group, then inevitably the conver-
sation turned to the hospital and the patients, despite
Scott's previous reluctance to talk shop.
After one fairly lively discussion about the treatment

Scott proposed for a patient with kidney stones, he
suddenly leaned back and laughed. 'Anna, you really
must take up medicine again. It's obvious you're han-
kering to be a doctor. You're wasted nursing.'
Anna wasn't so positive. 'Not wasted. . .'
'You know what I mean. You're not fulfilling your
potential.' He leaned forward again. 'If you want to
get into a medical school for next year, you'd better
get a move on. You need to get your application in
now, otherwise you'll have to wait another year.'
Anna realised it was foolish to procrastinate, but she
was still indecisive. 'Scott, I don't know. . .'
He frowned. 'Anna, stop procrastinating! Now is the
time to choose which road to take. Do you want to be
a doctor or not?'
Anna moistened her lips and met his determined
gaze. 'Yes,' she said, 'I do.'
He smiled. 'Good. Now as you've already done one
year and your nursing training, it's on the cards you
might be able to get accepted in second year and avoid
repeating first year.'
Anna was greatly heartened by this possibility.
'Really?'
'If you've got the right subjects, and your marks
were good.'
Suddenly the prospect seemed less daunting. She
told him everything he wanted to know about her
training and her exam results, and was encouraged by
his certainty that she stood a good chance of being
accepted into second-year medicine.
'It's not just your qualifications, though,' he said,
frowning. 'There aren't usually many places for second-
year entrants.' He stroked his cheek thoughtfully, then
said, 'Look, if you like I'll arrange an interview with

someone who'll tell you what your chances are. Could
you go to Melbourne for a couple of days?'
'Only at weekends—I'm off most weekends. I do a
weekend shift only about once a month or in an
emergency.' She smiled. 'I work more or less civilised
hours.'
'Then I'll arrange it and we'll go.'
'We. . .?' she queried.
'It's about time I whizzed down to see how the place
is surviving without me.'
Anna was excited, but felt things were moving too
fast. 'That's very kind, Scott, and I do appreciate your
egging me on like this, but I'm not sure I'm cut out to
be a doctor.'
He caught hold of her hand and said earnestly, 'You
sound a lot like young Liz Farmer! I think maybe your
self-esteem needs a bit of a boost too. Don't be too
self-effacing, Anna. You've got what it takes, believe
me, and it's a shame to see a talent wasted—all right,
not wasted, just not developed.'
'You're very flattering.'
'Do you agree to go?' he asked bluntly.
Anna bit her lip. 'All right—yes. I'll meet this person
you suggest.'
'Professor John Carter. He's Professor of Surgery at
Melbourne Uni. A very astute man, brilliant surgeon.
You'll like him.'
'I'm terrified already!'
Scott clasped her hand tightly. 'Don't worry, you
have a way of taming tigers.'
Anna blushed. 'Thank you for doing this for me,
Scott. I'm really grateful.'
It was late when they arrived home and Anna was
hesitant about asking Scott in for coffee in case he

should interpret it wrongly. But not to seemed ungrate-
ful. In the end, she said, ' I know it's late, but if you'd
like a coffee. . .'
'You have to be up early,' he said, 'so I won't keep
you. I'm going to be busy myself tomorrow.' He'd been
rather quiet on the way home, and Anna had sensed a
withdrawal as she had before. She hoped he wasn't
regretting his offer to help her.
'Thank you for dinner,' she said. 'I enjoyed it very
much.'
He turned to her, almost reluctantly, it seemed. 'So
did I.' Their eyes held for too long. The spark ignited
and Scott reached for her with a swift decisive move-
ment, pulling her away from the passenger door and
tightly into his arms. 'Coffee at this time of night is bad
for you,' he chided huskily, 'but this isn't. . .' And he
kissed her, gently at first, then with mounting passion,
invading her mouth with a sensuousness that took her
breath away.
'Anna. . .' he breathed against her neck as his hand
fumbled with the buttons on the bodice of her dress,
then cupped her breast warmly in his palm. 'Anna,
you're so lovely. . . I'm trying not to, but I can't help
wanting you. . .'
And I'm a fool, she thought muzzily, letting him do
this, but I can't help it. I'm in love with him and I don't
care. . . The realisation came suddenly and shocked
her for a moment. She slid her arms around him,
pulling out his shirt so that she could make contact
with the bare skin of his back, and offering her lips to
him with an ardour she had never known she possessed.
'Maybe I should come in for coffee after all,' Scott
murmured against her ear.
Anna's mind and body insisted yes, yes, come in

with me. . .but her common sense roused itself. An
affair with Scott Carroll was not what she wanted. And
there was nothing else he would offer. He was a man
avoiding commitment, a man disappointed in love once
and not likely to try it again. Not yet, anyway. She'd
have to take him on his terms, and she wasn't sure she
was strong enough to do that. The bliss of a temporary
liaison—for that was all it would be—would not be
worth the heartbreak that would follow.
Before Anna could answer, headlights came down
the road and a car turned into the driveway. Meg had
come home, even later than usual. She tooted rudely,
and at once the spell was broken. Hurriedly Anna
buttoned her dress and opened the passenger door,
astonished that she had even contemplated for a second
sneaking him into the house right under Meg's very
nose. 'Goodnight, Scott,' she said. 'And thanks
again. . .'
He grasped her hand and held it to his lips. 'Don't
forget to let me know which weekend you can go to
Melbourne.'
Anna didn't answer. She pulled her hand away, slid
out of the car, slamming the door behind her, and ran
after Meg into the house.

CHAPTER  EIGHT

'HEY, look at you!' Meg exclaimed in surprise, when
Anna came into the hall. 'All dressed up! Where have
you been? Sorry if I interrupted anything, but you
didn't have to mind me. . .' She chuckled and peered
more closely at Anna's face. 'I wonder who's been
kissing you!'
Anna could not get out of explanations now. 'Scott
suggested we change after the bushwalk and go to
Ballarat for dinner.'
'Wow!' Meg was impressed.
'Meg, don't talk about it, will you?' Anna begged.
'At the hospital, I mean. I don't want anyone to
think. . .'
Meg shook her head. 'Not a word shall pass my lips.'
She smiled widely. 'Well, I never! Anna Mackay and
Dr Carroll—whoever would have thought it?'
'Look, there's nothing to it,' Anna said earnestly. 'A
date, a goodnight kiss.' She shrugged. 'I probably won't
go out with him again.' Already she was wishing she
hadn't said she'd go to Melbourne with Scott. Her
feelings towards him would make her much too
vulnerable.
'Bit fresh, was he?' Meg said bluntly, noting that
Anna's buttons were done up unevenly.
'You know what men are,' Anna said lightly. She
walked down the hall. 'Want a hot drink?'
Meg followed her to the kitchen and switched on the
electric heater. She was very curious about Anna's
131

date, but Anna was soon able to divert her into talking
about the wonderful Peter.
'He asked me to marry him last night,' Meg said
softly.
Anna was scarcely surprised. 'And you said yes?'
Meg looked up, starry-eyed. 'Is there any other
word?' She jumped up and whirled around the kitchen.
'Anna, I'm so happy I could burst!'
'Not in the kitchen, please!' joked Anna. She added
sincerely, 'That's wonderful, Meg. I'm really happy for
you. Peter's a great person.'
Meg subsided into a chair and clasped the mug of
cocoa Anna handed to her. 'It's such a fantastic feeling.
And Peter's so considerate and gentle. . . Hell, Anna,
I had no idea what it was all about before I met him.
OK, I've not been all that pure. I've hopped into bed
with guys I liked on occasions, but it was never like
this. Love makes all the difference. Peter says so
too. . .' She paused, grimacing. 'I hope I don't make
him sound soppy, because he isn't. He's. . .'
'Really quite macho,' teased Anna, feeling a twinge
of envy. She was happy for her friend, but Meg's
radiance made her feel more than a little wistful. After
all he'd said, she'd be a fool to think that Scott Carroll
would ever want more than an affair with her.
Meg sobered. 'Anna, I've been worrying about you
all day.'
'Me? Why?'
'Well, Peter and I aim to get married quite soon, and
we'll be living in his flat, at least until we build or buy
a place of our own. He likes Mount William and so do
I, so we aim to stay for a while anyway, and it'll be
more sensible to own our own place rather than rent.'
'What you're saying is that shortly you'll want to

move out of here?' Anna realised that she should have
been expecting it.
Meg looked at her with mute appeal. Finally she
said, 'We're going to be married in a few weeks, Anna.
I'm sorry it's not giving you much notice, but—well,
everything just happened.'
Anna took the empty mugs and rinsed them. She felt
suddenly that everything was overtaking her. Perhaps
this was the catalyst, she thought, this and falling in
love with Scott Carroll. She'd felt she was at a cross-
roads, and even tonight she had still been dithering
about which road to take, but now the way seemed to
be signposted. Perhaps she was meant to go back to
medicine.
She turned, leaning on the sink. 'I've just about
made up my mind to take up medicine again,' she said.
'Scott's offered to introduce me to a professor down in
Melbourne, to talk it over. Things are a little different
from England here. I don't know yet whether I'll have
to start right at the beginning again or if I can make a
lateral entry into second year. If I do get accepted in a
medical school, I'll have to move at the end of the year
anyway. You needn't worry about the rent in the
meantime. I can afford to keep the house on until I
go-'
Meg looked relieved. 'I was hoping you might have
reached a decision. I'm glad, Anna. You're a terrific
nurse, but I think you've got what it takes to be an
even better doctor.' She grinned. 'I don't envy you,
mind. You've got a long haul ahead.'
'I know. That's why I've been so undecided. It's a
massive commitment, especially at my age.'
'Obviously Scott's been encouraging you,' Meg
observed.

'He says I've got to hurry up and apply if I want to
start next year. That's why he offered to introduce me
to this professor of surgery friend of his.'
Meg tilted her head enquiringly. 'Sounds as if he
wants to make sure you're down in Melbourne next
year!'
Anna was startled by this assumption. It hadn't
occurred to her and she didn't think it likely. She shook
her head. 'I don't think so. He's just being helpful.'
'Are you in love with him?' Meg asked bluntly.
Anna tried hard not to give herself away. 'No, of
course not,' she said, forcing a laugh. 'Anyway, he'll
still be here until the middle of next year.'
'It might be a different story once you meet up again,
though,' Meg said. 'Absence makes the heart grow
fonder, you know.'
Anna was adamant. 'I shan't have time for
romance—I'll need every minute for study, and I won't
be able to afford distractions.' Being in love with Scott
was an aberration, she decided, one she would soon
get over if she behaved sensibly. She was calling mere
physical attraction love, that was the trouble. Once she
was out of his orbit, she would soon forget him.
Meg smiled. 'That's a pity, because you and he
would go well together, I reckon.'

It was three weeks before Scott drove Anna to
Melbourne to meet John Carter. For Anna it had been
a time of personal anxiety as she vacillated between
wanting to take the plunge, if it were possible, and
being afraid of it. Scott seemed to sense her dilemma
and went out of his way to be encouraging. He insisted
she obtain application forms and helped her to fill them
in.

'We'll do one in rough as a trial run,' he said. 'So
you can show it to John Carter.'
Although Anna appreciated his interest and help,
the more he tried to persuade her that going back to
medicine was the right course for her, the more she
had to accept that his feelings towards her were merely
physical. Scott Carroll did not intend to become
involved with a woman, and especially not a career
woman. His wife Janis had made sure of that.
They went bushwalking twice during the ensuing
weekends, and on both occasions ended up having tea
at the Winston pub. It went without saying that Scott
gave Anna a lift to these outings. In any case, both
were further afield than it would have been convenient
to ride her bicycle, and she would have had to beg a
lift with someone. She could have found an excuse not
to go, but she was not that strong. She couldn't say no
to Scott, she enjoyed being with him too much.
She must just be careful, she told herself, not to get
any fanciful ideas about him. She must not let herself
be influenced by Meg, whose starry-eyed radiance was
all-pervading these days. Scott Carroll was not Peter
Robbins.
Anna prepared for the trip to Melbourne with feel-
ings that were a mixture of misgivings and excitement.
Now that she had taken this positive step in the
direction of taking up medicine again, the old feeling
of elation gripped her as it had when she had first
walked into a lecture theatre at the start of her first
year at medical school. Suddenly the years ahead had
ceased to seem formidable, and now it was the same.
She knew she would become so totally absorbed that
the time would pass quickly. Even if they did not save
her a year's study, her nursing training and experience

would stand her in good stead, she knew, help to make
a great many aspects more immediately clear, and
easier to learn. And having been a nurse, she would
surely be a more understanding and considerate doctor.
Scott evidently thought so. 'You'll have a great
advantage knowing the nursing side of things,' he said,
as they were driving down the Western Highway
towards the city. He turned briefly to smile at her.
'You'll be able to appreciate nurses more than we male
chauvinist medicos!'
'I hope so!' she rejoined with fervour. 'At least I'll
know what goes on, how hard nurses work. I hope I
won't be as condescending as some doctors are.'
'Ouch! Did I deserve that?'
'No. You're not condescending, just a bit brusque at
times,' Anna told him. She added boldly, with humour
in her tone, 'But you've improved.'
He pulled a face. 'Thanks, I'm sure!' Another side-
long glance and a smile showed he was not annoyed by
what she'd said. 'Do they still call me The Ogre behind
my back?'
She laughed. 'I'm not aware that the title was
generally used. Meg said she thought you must have
got over whatever was bugging you, but everyone else
seems to have taken any change in their stride. I didn't
tell Meg anything about—about your wife, of course.'
She added, 'Of course your demanding such high
standards has just resulted in everyone trying hard not
to give you any cause for complaint. And I suppose
there's nothing wrong with that.'
'I try not to bite people's heads off,' he said
contritely.
'You don't—often,' Anna said honestly.
Scott laughed softly. 'Sister Mackay, I don't think

you know how good you are for me. Your honesty is
very refreshing, and yet you manage to sound so
diplomatic even when you're telling me a home truth.'
He released one hand from the wheel and placed it
briefly on her thigh. A sharp bend in the road required
him to restore it to the wheel, for which Anna was
grateful. Whenever Scott touched her, accidentally or
not, she experienced much too strong a reaction.
I apologise if I've been rude,' she said.
'Rude! You've been a tonic, Anna. Just what I
needed.' He glanced at her again. 'The trouble is you're
too damned attractive. I keep wanting to make love to
you. You don't know how hard it is to keep my
distance, to let things go so far and no further.'
'I'm sorry. . .it's not fair to frustrate you,'said Anna.
'We shouldn't go out together. But I. . .'
'You don't go to bed with any old Tom, Dick or
Harry, I know,' Scott said, with a touch of impatience.
'I respect that, Anna. You're the kind of woman to
give herself to the man she falls in love with, and no
one else.'
'A bit old-fashioned of me,' she murmured.
'That's one of the things which makes you so attrac-
tive,' said Scott, with a quirk of amusement flicking
across his mouth. 'You know, Anna, I could easily fall
in love with you. . .' At her sharp intake of breath, he
went on, 'But don't worry, I won't. I've no intention
of getting involved with anyone right now. Once was
enough. And if I ever do, you can bet she'll be right
outside the medical profession and preferably a home-
body. No more clashing careers, thank you.'
'That's probably wise,' commented Anna, with a
leaden feeling in her stomach. If Scott loved me, I
wouldn't think twice about a career, she thought with

absolute conviction. I wouldn't care if I never became
a doctor. She wondered what he would say if she
voiced the thought, but didn't dare to. He was only
talking idly.
They stopped for lunch in Ballarat and were in
Melbourne late afternoon. Scott had booked rooms at
a motel near Melbourne University. Anna was sure he
could have stayed with friends if he'd wanted to, but
had chosen the motel so that she would not feel
abandoned.
Her appointment with Professor Carter was on
Sunday morning at the professor's house on elegant
tree-lined Royal Parade.
'You must have people you want to see,' Anna said
to Scott, after they'd checked in. 'Don't worry about
me tonight. I'll be all right. It's not the first time I've
been to Melbourne. I'll probably go to the cinema.'
He clamped a hand on her shoulder. 'If you desper-
ately want to be alone and independent, by all means,
but if you can stand my company why don't we go
together?'
She looked up at him. The grey eyes were smiling,
teasing her a little. Her heart quickened. 'Well, of
course I'd like that.'
She changed into the smart blue suit she had brought
to wear tomorrow morning for her visit to Professor
Carter, and was glad she had when Scott appeared in a
suit. He looked very handsome, very debonair, she
thought, and ached to reach up and kiss him.
As though he had read her mind he cupped her face
in his large hands and tilted her mouth to his, brushing
her lips lightly. His eyes smouldered for a moment, as
his fingers slid under her hair and caressed her nape.
'Anna, why do you tantalise me so? It isn't fair! I

want you like crazy, and you're as unattainable as the
moon.'
Not if you loved me, she whispered in her heart.
'Come on,' he said, 'before I forget all my good
resolutions.'
It was a small, secluded restaurant that he took her
to, on the city's fringe. It was expensive, Anna noticed,
glancing down the menu, very up-market. She was glad
she'd worn her good suit. A gypsy violinist played and
sang plaintive songs in the background and the service
was swift and attentive. Anna felt undeservedly
pampered.
Scott was more talkative than usual. Anna found
that they had common views about a great many things
besides medicine and bushwalking. In fact they scarcely
mentioned the hospital or medical topics, and a casual
remark of hers concerning bushwalking led them into
deep discussion of environmental issues. They were
both, Anna discovered with some gratification, mem-
bers of Greenpeace.
Finally Scott looked at his watch and said, 'We talk
too much. Now we're too late for the cinema.'
'Never mind. There wasn't anything I particularly
wanted to see. I've enjoyed talking just as much.'
He smiled and placed his hand over hers. 'Thanks
for the compliment. You're very easy to talk to, Anna.'
'All part of the therapy,' she said, then wished she
hadn't, because it sounded flip, and she hadn't meant
it that way.
He said rather wistfully, 'Janis and I never talked
much. After the first few months we never seemed to
be together long enough to have a real conversation.'
'I've heard about married couples who converse via
notes stuck on the fridge,' Anna mused.

For a moment his expression was withdrawn, then
he seemed to snap back as though by an effort of will.
'Shall we have another coffee? he asked. 'And then I
think you'd better have an early night. You'll want
your wits about you in the morning if you're to make a
good impression on old John.'
'I'm nervous,' Anna confessed. She added, 'Yes, I
would like more coffee. Thanks.'
As the waitress withdrew from their table after
taking the order, a woman approached. She was
slightly behind Scott, so he didn't notice her at once.
Anna watched the tall, slender woman in black with
short-cropped blonde hair with a sudden sinking feel-
ing. She did not know her, but presumably Scott did.
The woman was very attractive in a sharp-featured
way, and had an air of complete self-assurance. She
stared for a moment at Anna as she paused just behind
Scott's chair, then she dropped her hand on his
shoulder.
'Scott!'
As her meticulously manicured fingers drummed
ever so slightly on the smooth cloth covering Scott's
shoulder, it struck Anna as odd that her nails were not
painted, since her face was perfectly made up.
Scott was clearly startled, but he showed little out-
ward sign of it. He turned slightly, glancing up at the
newcomer. Not a shred of emotion showed in his face.
'Hello, Janis.'
Janis! Scott's wife. A strange feeling crept over Anna
and she recognised it with dismay—jealousy.
'I thought you were holed up in the wilds of the
Wimmera,' Janis Carroll drawled silkily, surveying him
critically as though it was bound to have affected his
health.

'Not the Wimmera,' he replied evenly. 'Mount
William, the Central Highlands.'
Janis waved a hand dismissively. 'I was never much
good at geography. Country Victoria somewhere, I
heard.' She treated Anna to a similarly critical gaze,
and Scott said,
'Anna, this is my wife, Janis. Janis, Sister Mackay
from Mount William Hospital.'
Janis smiled thinly, and Anna muttered, 'How do
you do?' She felt she ought to vapourise, that that was
what Janis would like. The woman looked from her to
Scott and back, her suspicions very clearly stated in her
eyes.
'Mind if I join you?' Janis asked, reaching behind
her to take a chair from an empty table. 'I haven't had
dessert or coffee yet.'
Scott had risen to move the chair. He said, 'Aren't
you with someone?' His eyes flicked across the
restaurant.
'A couple of girl friends,' Janis said lightly. 'They
can spare me for a while.'
He sent a quick apologetic glance in Anna's direc-
tion, which she interpreted as meaning he would
appreciate it if she left them. She was delighted to.
Janis Carroll and Anna Mackay clearly had nothing to
say to each other.
So she said, 'If you don't mind, Scott, I'll be going.
I'm rather tired. It's all right, I'll get them to call a taxi
for me.'
He seemed to be resolving some conflict within for a
moment or two, but finally he said, 'All right.' He
called the waitress over and asked her to bring the
menu for Janis, and to order a taxi for Anna. There
were a painful few minutes before the taxi arrived and

Anna was able to escape. Janis Carroll used the time
to learn as much about Anna as she could, and was
openly sceptical about her chances of getting a place
next year in first year, let alone second. Janis was
clearly not impressed by nurses who wanted to become
doctors.
Anna went to bed as soon as she returned to the
motel, but sleep was impossible. She eventually turned
on the light and tried to read the novel she had shoved
in her overnight bag. Concentrating on the words was
equally impossible, and she lay staring at the ceiling,
plagued by images of Scott and Janis, convinced they
would have left the restaurant together. She must have
slipped into a light doze eventually, because she sur-
faced to a light rap on her door.
'Are you awake, Anna?' It was Scott.
'Yes, what is it?'
'I want to talk to you for a minute.'
Anna slid out of bed, shrugged into her dressing-
gown, and padded to the door. Scott looked so forlorn
that she wanted to take him in her arms and comfort
him. 'Come in,' she invited.
'I saw your light on and wondered if you were still
awake,' he said. 'I felt I had to apologise.'
'You might as well sit down.' Anna indicated the
armchair. She perched on the edge of the bed, drawing
her dressing-gown more tightly around her. 'There's
no need to apologise. It was obviously an awkward
situation, and I could see you wanted me to go.'
He raked a hand through his hair. 'I didn't! I wanted
you to stay so she wouldn't!'
'You surely don't need moral support to talk to your
wife!' She sounded arch, but couldn't help it.
'Listen,' he said, leaning forward, his head in his

hands. 'It was a shock to see her there. I haven't seen
her for months. We've only communicated through
solicitors. I thought she was probably in America by
now, but apparently it all fell through.' He looked at
Anna in anguish. 'Just as the divorce is about to come
through, she's talking about a reconciliation.'
'Why?' Anna's heart felt like stone.
'That's it—I don't know. She's so evasive, so
plausible.'
'It's a bit sudden, isn't it? Why hasn't she been in
touch with you?'
'She says she was afraid to, but seeing me there
tonight gave her courage. . .'
'And what are you going to do?' Anna asked quietly.
'I don't know. . .'
'You're still in love with her, aren't you?'
He shook his head. 'No. . .hell, I don't know. . .it's
a mess, Anna. I don't know how I feel about anything.
I know I don't want to go through that nightmare
again, but. . .'
'Maybe she's changed. Maybe things will be different
now. Maybe you can talk things over, make compro-
mises on both sides.'
He gave a wan smile. 'Maybe you should be a
marriage guidance counsellor!'
'Maybe you should sleep on it, Scott. Don't rush into
anything. See her a few times, get to know her again.'
'But I'm stuck up at Mount William for a year.'
'It's not so far to drive to Melbourne. Maybe she
could come up there sometimes.'
'No, it wouldn't work,' he said raggedly. 'I'm a fool
even to think about it.'
'There's no harm in thinking. Just don't act rashly.'

'I've always been too impulsive,' he admitted. 'That
was how I married Janis in the first place.'
'Well, perhaps now's the time to take stock and start
all over again. Are you seeing her again this weekend?'
'She wants to have lunch with me tomorrow,' he
confessed. 'I told her I might not be able to.'
'Of course you'll be able to. You don't have to
consider me, Scott. I can look after myself. I'll wander
around the art gallery and the botanic gardens. Just tell
me what time you want to leave and where to meet
you.'
He studied her for a moment or two. 'You're so
matter-of-fact, so calm, but it's easy for you, you're
not involved. . .'
Anna kept her expression blank while her emotions
churned painfully. Not involved! She was in love with
the man. And he was going to jump out of the frying-
pan right back into the fire, she feared. There was
nothing she could do about it. Scott had to work out
his destiny for himself. She guessed he was tempted to
go back to Janis because that would assuage his deep
sense of failure, at least temporarily. But how long
would it last? One glimpse of Janis told Anna not long.
Janis would use him as she'd used him before. Her
overseas job had fallen through, she was out on a limb,
and suddenly Scott had fallen back into her lap. It was
hardly surprising, especially as he'd been with another
woman, that she had thought about reconciliation.
Anna had no doubts about how she would present it to
her friends, that Scott had begged her to go back to
him. Couldn't he see that?
'Would you like a nightcap?' she asked. 'There are
all sorts of miniatures in the fridge.'
A faint smile temporarily relaxed Scott's features.

'Yeah—I guess I need one.' He crossed to her refriger-
ator and opened it. 'What do you fancy?'
'I don't know that I should. . .'
'Don't let me drink alone! Just one—how about a
brandy?'
'All right.'
There were glasses on top of the fridge and he
poured the contents of a brandy miniature into one,
whisky into the other, and splashed a little ginger ale
in each.
Anna spluttered as she tried it. 'More ginger ale,
please!'
Scott sat on the end of the bed and faced her. 'No
more of my problems. What a nerve I've got, tipping
them on you! I'm sorry, Anna, I shouldn't have dis-
turbed you, but I was so angry that you'd felt you had
to go. I felt despicable. . .'
Instinctively she leaned towards him and covered his
hand which lay palm down on the bed. 'I wish you'd
stop apologising.'
'All right. I said no more about me. Let's talk about
you. Tomorrow. I'll drive you to John's place in the
morning—about ten-fifteen, he said, and I'll pick you
up where?'
'What time do you want to go back?'
'We ought to leave about five at the latest, I
suppose.'
'Well, what about the arts centre? I could meet you
there. I can wait inside.'
He stood up and paced the room. 'No, this is
monstrous. I'll tell Janis I can't make it,' he said firmly.
'I'm not going to leave you to your own devices all
day.'
'Yes, you are,' she insisted. 'You're going to see

Janis and talk things over. It's an opportunity you
might not have again, Scott. Better to do it now before
the divorce is final. I'm a big girl, quite used to
meandering round a city on my own. Your meeting
Janis is more important than entertaining me. You've
done quite enough for me, anyway, arranging for me
to see Professor Carter.'
He looked doubtful, but she could see he wanted to
accept what she'd said. Finally he capitulated. 'All
right. And thanks, Anna. Thanks a million.'
'You can tell me all about it on the way home,' she
said, with a touch of irony she hoped he wouldn't
notice.
He downed the whisky and put his empty glass on
the bench. Anna placed her drink on the bedside table,
hardly touched. Scott said, 'I guess I'd better turn in.'
'See you in the morning.' Anna rose to open the
door, and found him already halfway there, blocking
her way. She paused.
For a moment they stood looking at each other,
uncertain, emotion flowing between them, then Scott
drew her into his arms. 'Anna, I wish it was you. . .'
He broke off, and held her hard against him. His
breath stirred her hair and his heart beat strongly
against her. Anna wanted him to kiss her, but knew he
would not, not tonight, perhaps never again. Perhaps
it was better this way. If Scott went back to his wife,
then she might be able to forget him more easily.
Feeling tears suddenly starting, and not trusting her
self-control to hold, she drew back. 'Goodnight, Scott.
And don't worry about it. It'll work out, I'm sure.' She
sounded trite, but what else was there to say?
He dragged his fingers up through her hair, touching

CROSSROADS OF THE HEART	147
her scalp and sending shivers of fire right through her,
then softly kissed her mouth, a mere gesture of
gratitude.
'Goodnight, Anna. And thanks.'

CHAPTER  NINE

'THIS is one of those decisions I would rather not have
had to make,' Scott said gravely, replacing the X-rays
on Anna's desk.
Anna's chest constricted. 'Amputation?'
'I'm afraid so.'
She drew in a deep breath. 'Have you told her?'
He nodded. 'She took it very well, even made a joke
about being "Long Joan Silver", but of course she's
shattered, they always are. I suggested going to
Melbourne for a second opinion, but she seems willing
to accept my prognosis. I told her I'd consulted a
cardio-vascular surgeon who, on the basis of her history
and these X-rays, agreed with me, and was willing to
take her as a patient, but she doesn't want to go away
from home.'
'They never do at her age,' observed Anna. 'But she
might need to for prosthesis.'
Scott looked thoughtful. 'That shouldn't be necess-
ary. Isn't there a travelling service?'
She wasn't sure. 'I really don't know—I've never
had occasion to since I've been here. Matron will know,
of course.'
'Well, if there isn't,' Scott said decisively, 'we'll have
to arrange something.'
Anna smiled. It was typical of him to show such
consideration for patients, especially elderly ones like
Joan Silver, who was in her seventies. She'd lived all
her life in Mount William and was determined that if

she was going to die it was going to be there. She was
the widow of a local farmer, and when he'd died a year
previously she had moved into a retirement unit in the
town.
'And there I'll stay till they carry me out in a box,'
she'd said to Anna the day she had been admitted with
severe claudication in her left leg which had some
months before received arterial grafting. She was a
friendly, cheerful person who always seemed more
concerned about the medical problems of her fellow
patients than her own. Anna had developed quite an
affection for her in a very short time.
Scott dragged a weary hand across his brow. He had
looked very strained since their weekend in
Melbourne, and Anna guessed that the emotional
pressure on him in his personal life was still intense.
She longed to help, to comfort, to do anything to take
the stress from his face, but he had become very
withdrawn since that weekend. He had not once con-
fided in her since, perhaps not wanting to burden her
with his problems, but more likely, she assumed,
because his dilemma had become just too intensely
personal. He had said very little in the car on the
return journey from Melbourne, and she had not
probed. That day he had kept the conversation mainly
to her interview with Professor Carter.
Scott had driven her to the Royal Parade address,
lingering only to introduce her to the professor and
make apologies about having to dash off on urgent
business. The tall, distinguished surgeon with the shock
of white hair had instantly captivated Anna with a
welcoming smile that dissipated all her nerves. The
next hour had flown, and at the end of it she had lost
any misgivings she might have had about going back to

medicine. John Carter was an inspiration. And his
wife, a doctor herself, who joined them for morning
tea, made Anna feel she would be selling herself short
if she did not become a doctor. They both offered to
help smooth her path to medical school in any way
they could, and urged her to lodge her application
straight away.
Scott was referred to only once, when Madeleine
Carter remarked, 'Such a shame, Scott's marriage
breaking up. They were totally unsuited, of course—
Janis is utterly selfish and unscrupulous.' She had
shrugged. 'But love is blind. I only hope Scott isn't
going to bury himself in the Grampians forever as a
result. He could have a wonderful career ahead of him
in one of our big hospitals if he doesn't leave it too
late.' She had eyed Anna sharply. 'I suppose you won't
be thinking of marriage until you've qualified?' It had
sounded like an injunction.
Anna had answered no, and had received approving
looks from both the Carters.
Scott said now, 'Have you heard anything about your
application?'
Anna shook her head. 'Not yet. Professor Carter
told me it would take time.'
'Don't worry,' he assured her, 'he'll see you get a
place.'
Anna said guiltily, 'I feel I might be jumping the
queue, his pulling strings for me. . .'
'Don't be ridiculous. John Carter wouldn't pull
strings for anyone he didn't believe would be
worthwhile.'
'But he doesn't know much about me.'
'My dear girl, he found out all he needed to know in
an hour's conversation. He's a genius at summing

people up. And besides, your qualifications are
excellent.'
Anna wondered if the surgeon's wife was also good
at summing people up, and if her comment on Scott's
wife was accurate. She longed to ask Scott what was
happening, whether he was still considering a reconcil-
iation with Janis, but felt it would be prying to do so.
He would tell her if he wanted to, and at the moment
he evidently preferred not to talk about it.
She felt in her bones that he was probably moving
towards giving their marriage another go. Scott was the
kind of man who didn't give up easily, and if he had
been blaming himself for the break-up of the marriage,
which she sensed he would have been, then he would
not be able to refuse the chance to make amends. But
since the blame was unlikely to have been all his,
however hard he tried, the marriage could fall apart
again. And the second failure, Anna thought, would
be devastating.
'Your friend Meg's wedding is this Saturday, isn't
it?' Scott said.
'Yes. You know Peter Robbins, of course. He's Mrs
Silver's GP.'
'Mmm. She'll be in good hands, I think.' He smiled.
'I mean Meg and Mrs Silver! Peter's a conscientious
young fellow. You're bridesmaid?'
Anna nodded. 'You're coming?' She knew Meg had
invited him.
'I don't know at this stage. I might have to go to
Melbourne.'
To see Janis, she thought. There had been no talk of
bushwalking lately and Scott had not been on the two
occasions she had gone herself. She guessed he was
spending as much time with his wife as he could. It

looked as though they were making a serious attempt
to talk things over and patch up their differences.
He chatted on about nothing much, and all at once
it occurred to Anna that he was making conversation
for the sake of it, lingering in her office for some
reason.
Finally he said, 'There's a good bushwalk this
Sunday, a fairly tough one, Would you feel up to
tackling it after the wedding?'
'I was aiming to go,' Anna said, 'but I thought you
said you might be going to Melbourne.'
'I'm not planning to stay over.'
She was curious, but Scott did not enlarge on his
plans. 'Well, if you're going,' she said. 'It's a bit far for
me to cycle, so I'd need a lift.'
'You just got offered one.'
'Thanks.'
Their words dissolved into silence, and Scott's grey
eyes held Anna's with the unfathomable look she had
lately become accustomed to. Since any kind of look
from those eyes melted her bone marrow, she
wrenched her gaze away and pretended to look
urgently for something on her desk, wishing he'd go,
yet wanting him to stay, and as a result feeling her
emotional equilibrium in grave danger of toppling.
It was a relief when his pager emitted its electronic
summons. She was not so relieved to find that there
was an emergency, which meant another bed to be
found in an already full ward.
'What we can do,' she said to Fran a few minutes
later, 'is cram another bed into Room Three for the
time being. Linda Walker's due to be discharged
tomorrow. . .' She paused, tapping her bottom lip
thoughtfully. 'I wonder if she'd like to go home tonight.

I'll ask Scott. I'm sure her husband would be able to
pick her up. He'll probably be coming in to visit her
anyway this evening, and she can't wait to get out of
here.'
Fran agreed. 'She's in the day-room now, so we
could remake her bed right away and then we wouldn't
have to search for a spare one.'
Anna went along to the day-room, where ambulant
patients were watching television or reading. Linda
Walker, a young woman of nineteen or twenty and
noticeably pregnant, was knitting a small white gar-
ment. She looked up as Anna approached her chair.
The large gauze patch over her left eye was the outward
evidence of an eye injury, sustained when she had
tripped and fallen, breaking a bottle. A piece of glass
had stabbed her eye, and she had come within a hair's
breadth of losing her sight. There had also been some
anxiety about the baby, but fortunately no harm had
come to it when Linda had fallen.
'Hello, Sister,' Linda greeted Anna, and heaved a
pleased sigh. 'I'm allowed home tomorrow, I believe.'
'That's what Dr Carroll said this morning,' agreed
Anna. 'So long as you come to Outpatients as often as
he asks you to. It won't be for very long—your eye is
healing up very nicely. How does it feel?'
'Fine. It's not painful at all now, and, as you know,
when Dr Carroll took the dressing off this morning I
could see quite well.' Linda looked bleak for an instant.
'I was so scared! What if I was blind in that eye? I
don't think I could have borne it.'
'Well, you're not, thanks to some adroit surgical
skill.'
'I know. And you've all looked after me wonder-

fully,' Linda said. 'I shan't be a bit nervous when I
come in to have my baby. I know the ropes now.'
'Don't count on it yet,' said Anna, 'but I might be
able to let you go home tonight, if you want to, and Dr
Carroll agrees. There's an emergency in Theatre right
now and we're short of a bed.' She laughed. 'You're
the only one we can spare! But I just wanted to check,
before I ask Dr Carroll, that your husband would be
able to fetch you.'
Linda's face lit up. 'He'd better be!' She giggled. 'I
bet there'll be a sink full of dishes, and a laundry full
of filthy overalls all of which he intends to wash tonight.
But never mind. . .anything's worth it to go home.'
Anna nodded sympathetically. 'You've been missing
him.'
'And how! I just hope he's been missing me as much.
Gee, I never thought I'd feel that way. I mean, being
in love and getting married and all that is a big hype,
isn't it? But then you settle down and life's ordinary
again—except for being pregnant, of course—and you
don't realise how quickly you can take having someone
there all the time for granted.'
'I suppose it must be like that,' Anna agreed.
Linda folded her knitting in her lap. 'You're not
married, Sister?'
'No.'
Linda grinned. 'Well, you're wise not to rush into it,
but if you happen to meet the right one before you're
ready what do you do—ask him to hang around while
you grow up?' She laughed ruefully. 'I didn't want to
get married till I was twenty-five at least, but there was
no way I was going to ask Warren to hang around for
more than a week and have him snapped up by

someone else! They don't come any better than my
Warren.'
Oh, yes, they do, thought Anna. Scott Carroll, for
instance. But that was only her opinion. Everyone had
their own private hero. Would she ever meet a man to
match him? she wondered. Perhaps she would never
get married. Anna sighed as she went to find Fran and
organise the smooth reception of the new patient. The
possibility was a long time ahead, anyway. For the next
six years, if she was accepted at medical school, she
was going to concentrate on her studies and nothing
else. And maybe once she was qualified she would find
so much fulfilment in her work that she would not want
to marry at all.
'You look as though you're having gloomy thoughts,'
remarked Fran, noticing Anna's deep frown.
Anna shook herself. 'No, not really. I was just
contemplating the long years of study ahead.' She had
told Fran of her plans recently.
'You're not getting cold feet, I hope.'
'No. From wondering if I really wanted to do it, I'm
now just afraid I won't get a place next year. I don't
think I could wait another year. It's now or never.'
'Well, keep thinking positive,' advised Fran, heading
for the linen cupboard. 'Remember no news is good
news.'
A short time later the emergency patient arrived in
the ward. She was Denise Lavery, a teenager who had
fractured her clavicle when she'd fallen while playing
tennis. With an over-anxious mother hovering, she was
installed in Linda's remade bed, and then Anna spent
some time reassuring Mrs Lavery that Denise's injury
was quite common, not serious, and that the bone
would knit in about three weeks.

'She won't have to stay in hospital long,' Anna told
the girl's mother. 'But she'll need the neck brace for a
while.'
Anna was almost ready to go off duty and Scott had
not yet appeared in the ward as he usually did to check
on any patients he had operated on. There must have
been some other urgent demand on his attention, she
realised. And she hadn't asked him whether Linda
could go home tonight instead of tomorrow.
It was with great relief that she finally saw him
coming along the corridor, just as she was about to
have him paged. He was looking tired, she thought
again, as though he wasn't sleeping well. Janis's fault?
Anna supposed it must be.
'I was just going to have you paged,' she told him.
'Something important?' He followed her back into
her office.
'Yes and no.' She explained the situation briefly.
Scott nodded, and Anna felt relieved all over again. It
would not have been a surprise if he'd taken her to
task for pre-empting his decision.
'Yes, I see no reason why not,' he said. 'Providing
her husband's able to fetch her.'
'Oh, I'm sure he will be. I think they've been missing
each other.'
Scott looked steadily into her face. 'Well, which do
you want first, the good news or the bad?'
Anna tensed. 'Scott, what do you mean?'
He clasped her shoulder in a firm grip. 'You're in.'
'I'm in. . .?'
'Melbourne Uni Med School next year. John Carter
rang me and said there should be a letter in your mail
today. He sent congratulations and wished you luck.'
Anna felt weak. 'I can't believe it!'

Scott was smiling, but there was a strange wistful
look in his eyes that she did not understand. 'You will
when you pick up your mail.'
She wanted to throw her arms around him with
gratitude, but she resisted the temptation and said,
'Thank you for all you've done, Scott. I really am very
grateful.'
'You deserve a break,' he said softly.
Anna was beginning to feel elated, and it was like
champagne bubbles fizzing through her veins. She
could hardly wait to collect the mail from the post
office box on her way home. At last, after all this time,
she was going to start studying medicine again.
'So what's the bad news?' she asked.
He laughed. 'That was the bad news!' He reached
out and lightly smoothed the lines between her eye-
brows. 'The good news is that they've accepted you for
second-year entry.'
She could hardly believe it. 'Are you sure?'
Scott cupped her face in his hands and lightly kissed
her. 'Positive. Congratulations.'
'I feel weak at the knees,' Anna said shakily.
'I must be improving!'
'Not you! Because I really didn't expect. . .' She
leaned against the desk for support. 'Oh, Scott, it's
such wonderful news!'
'You won't get cold feet now?'
She shook her head. 'No. Now it's really happened I
can't wait to get started.' Her face was already flushed
with excitement. 'After all these years. . .at last. . .'
She covered her face with her hands, speechless.
Scott prised her fingers away, and with humour in
his eyes said, 'Now the really bad news.'
'What. . .?' Anna's elation became alarm.

'You'll be getting three new admissions tomorrow.'
She groaned. 'But we're full up!'
'This is a hospital, not a hotel,' Scott said with mock
severity. 'I'll see what can be done about discharging a
couple more besides Linda,' he promised. 'You can
probably cram another bed in somewhere.'
She pulled a face. 'That's what you doctors always
say. What are they?'
He considered. 'The cholycystectomy could probably
wait a week, although the patient is suffering quite a
bit of discomfort, but I'm anxious to do the cystoscopy
pretty urgently because I'm a bit suspicious about what
I might find, likewise the D &C
Anna voiced a perennial complaint. 'We ought to
have a separate gynae ward.'
'I know. I've mentioned it myself, so has the local
gynaecologist, but it seems the Board can't see the
necessity.'
She sighed resignedly. 'I don't know why we don't
go in for double bunks, and fork-lifts to shift the
patients!'
Scott laughed. 'What a brilliant notion!' Suddenly he
threw his arm around her shoulder and held her against
him. 'I love your wry way of looking at things, Anna. I
suppose it's your British sense of humour.'
Anna coloured furiously, wishing that close contact
with Dr Carroll did not bring on symptoms she would
prefer not to experience. He let her go quickly, as
though startled too. There was still a strong physical
awareness between them, she realised, and knew that
he was shaken by it too.
'I was trained in the stiff upper lip school, if that's
what you mean,' she said with a grin.
'You were born with a philosophical outlook on life,'

Scott declared, 'and experience has honed it. You have
the patience and fortitude to be a doctor,' he added,
smiling at her. 'Rather more than I have!'
'You seem to be making out all right,' said Anna.
'Professor Carter and his wife think very highly of you,
by the way.'
He grimaced modestly. 'Do they? That's good for
the flagging ego.' The look he gave her was enigmatic
and she wondered if there was any significance in the
remark. Was Janis an ego-blaster, even when wanting
a reconciliation?
Her curiosity could not be contained any longer, and
she asked, 'How's Janis?'
Scott's eyes narrowed and darkened, and his face
muscles tensed. 'What you mean is, have I made up
my mind yet? The answer is no, Anna, I haven't.'
'You've been seeing her a lot lately, I suppose?'
'Once or twice.'
Now that she'd been brave enough to open the
subject and Scott had not rebuffed her, perversely
Anna suddenly did not want to know the intimate
details of his attempt at mending his marriage.
He went on, 'Mostly I've been going off on my own
trying to think the whole thing through.'
'The moment will come when you know,' she said
with conviction. 'It'll all come together and you'll find
you've made your decision without realising it.'
He lifted his hand and idly smoothed the glossy
brown strands that swept back from her forehead to
the chignon at the back of her head. 'You've made it
harder for me. . .'
'Me?' Anna felt her heart skip a beat.
His fingertips traced the shape of her ear and slid
around to her nape. 'Yes. . .' His voice was very soft,

the grey eyes very compelling. 'There's the what-might-
have-been factor to be considered.'
Anna, horrified at the swift heating of her blood,
backed away. 'Now you're talking in riddles.'
Scott lowered his hand reluctantly. 'Yes, I am—
rambling like an idiot. Take no notice, Anna. I'm not
myself lately.'
You haven't been yourself for quite some time, she
thought with concern. ' I hope it all works out all right
soon,' she said.
He grinned. 'As I said, you're much more patient
than I am, much more resigned to letting life take its
course.'
Anna thought she couldn't bear to have him there
much longer. He was getting to her in a very disturbing
way. 'I'd appreciate it if you'd put your mind to
deciding who can go home tomorrow,' she said in a
return to a brisk tone.
Scott took the hint and went off to examine the
patients whom he thought were candidates for early
discharge. Anna knew he would not allow anyone to
go home if there was the slightest chance of their
having any problems.

Saturday was a fine mild day, with a slight breeze and
a few fluffy clouds scudding across the sky.
'Perfect for a wedding,' declared Anna, the first to
venture outside that morning to test the temperature.
'Happy is the bride the sun shines on.'
'Nervous is the bride. . .' muttered Meg through
chattering teeth as she chewed a piece of toast as
though it were cardboard.
Anna laughed. 'Why? You're in love, all your friends
are coming to see you marry Peter, and the future

looks rosy. There's no need to look as though you're
going to an execution!'
Meg scowled. 'You wait till it's your turn. You'll be
nervous too.'
'Oh, come on,' urged Anna. 'Everything's under
control. Your parents have arrived on time, your dress
is superb and the flowers will be here any minute. So,
if I'm not mistaken, will your mother and father, so
don't you think you ought to get a move on? Time flies
when you're getting ready for a special occasion, and
you mustn't be too late.'
Meg swallowed a mouthful of orange juice and
seemed slightly cheered. 'No, you're right, I'd better
get moving.'
Meg's parents, who were staying in a local motel,
arrived soon after breakfast, and the time did fly. But
after a few minor panics it all went off without a hitch.
The wedding was at midday, in the Memorial Gardens
in Mount William, a spot favoured for outdoor wed-
dings. Meg wore a cream silk dress and loose jacket
with a matching picture hat, and carried orchids.
Anna's dress was in palest chartreuse, with an orchid
corsage. Peter in a light fawn suit was handsome and
more nervous than Meg, but their tentative smiles as
they came together before the marriage celebrant soon
relaxed into laughter as the ceremony ended.
Anna watched with envy their happiness explode
into little intimacies, a touch, a squeeze, a kiss, and the
kind of eye contact that meant the exchange of lovers'
secrets. Foolishly she kept thinking of Scott, and was
glad he was not there because that would have made it
all the more poignant. It did not help, however, to
think of him with Janis, to imagine their rediscovery of
the kind of sweetness Meg and Peter were enjoying.

She almost wished she hadn't agreed to go bushwalking
the next day. Being with Scott was painful now, and
she would be on tenterhooks because one of these
days—tomorrow even—he would suddenly tell her
that he and Janis were getting back together again. If
they did, he would probably arrange to leave Mount
William before the year was up. No doubt another
doctor could be found to fill the post until Russ Phillips
came back. If that happened it would make life easier
for her, Anna thought, until she too left. Would she
ever run into Scott in Melbourne? she wondered. Or
Janis? It was likely, she supposed. She must make sure
that if she did neither must ever guess her true feelings
for Scott.
Her thoughts rambled on aimlessly during the recep-
tion at the Mount William Hotel, and she was still only
half in the present by the time Meg and Peter left for
their honeymoon. Meg threw her bouquet of orchids
into Anna's hands, and everyone laughed and said she
would be next. But they always said that at weddings,
and it was pure superstition that bridesmaids who
caught bouquets were next to be married. One could
hardly avoid catching the bouquet, Anna thought
bemusedly.
On Sunday morning, Anna woke with a heavy head.
She supposed she must have drunk too much cham-
pagne at the wedding, and later when she had joined
Meg's parents for dinner.
Remembering she was supposed to be going bush-
walking, she staggered out of bed and showered, then
made some coffee and toast. The headache subsided
a little after persuasion from a couple of paracetamols.
She  could  pretend  it  hadn't   and  cry   off,   she

thought. . . But she didn't have the will power to do
that.
Scott was prompt as always. 'How was the wed-
ding?' he asked cheerfully. In fact he looked more
relaxed than Anna had seen him for quite a while.
'Great. The bride looked beautiful, the groom was
very handsome, and it all went off without a hitch.'
'And what about the bridesmaid?' His eyes were
teasing.
'She didn't fall flat on her face or spill wine down her
expensive dress! She had dinner with Meg's parents
and fell into bed thinking weddings were rather more
tiring than ward duties.'
Scott laughed softly. 'A good brisk walk will liven
you up. It's a beautiful day again.'
Anna agreed. She loaded the lunch into their back-
packs and joined Scott in the car. She wanted to ask
how was Melbourne, but didn't. She gazed out of the
window waiting for him to start the conversation again,
but he drove in silence. It was a good fifteen minutes
before it occurred to Anna that they were not going in
the direction of the meeting point for that day's walk.
'Scott. . .' she said tentatively. 'I hate to say this, but
you're going the wrong way.'
He slowed briefly to let a magpie cross the road,
then glanced at her. 'No, I'm not.'
She felt bound to insist, 'This isn't the road to Hall's
Gap, unless we're going a very long way round, and
there isn't time. . .'
'I know. We're not going to Hall's Gap. The venue
has been changed.'
Anna was puzzled. No one had told her. But of
course she'd been at the wedding yesterday and out
last night if someone had tried to contact her. It was

164	CROSSROADS OF THE HEART
very unusual for venues to be changed at short notice.
It had never happened before.
'Where are we going?' she asked.
'Singleton Falls.'
She drew in a sharp breath. 'We went there a few
weeks ago. . .' That was where Scott had first kissed
her.
'And that's where we're going today,' said Scott.
A tiny suspicion began to grow in her mind. 'Who
contacted you to say the venue was changed?'
He looked straight ahead. 'No one. I rang Brent
Wilson and told him we wouldn't be coming today.'
Anna swivelled as far as her seatbelt would allow.
'Scott, what is this? Why did you do that?'
He answered softly without looking at her. 'Because
I want to go bushwalking with you without all those
others around. I want to talk to you.' He swung round
a bend and a long straight stretch of road lay ahead.
When he turned to look at her briefly, his eyes were
sombre. 'I wanted us to be alone,' he said.

CHAPTER  TEN

ANNA knew without asking what Scott wanted to talk
to her about. Janis. He was going to tell her what he
had decided. She was sure she already knew what that
was. He was going to try and make a go of his marriage.
It was inevitable, of course, that he would, Anna
thought. He had merely been waiting around hoping
that Janis would make a move, and she had. There
really hadn't been a decision to make, but for the sake
of his pride Scott would have had to pretend that there
was. Reconciliation was what he wanted.
She was flattered that he wanted to tell her, although
not sure she really wanted to hear what he had to say.
But there was no way she could get out of it without
sounding uncaring or, worse, revealing her true feelings
for him. If Scott wanted moral support for his decision,
she would give it to him, even though she had misgiv-
ings about the Tightness of what he intended to do.
Feeling noble about it, she thought wryly, was one way
to cover the pain. There had never been the slightest
chance for her with Scott, and she was a fool to have
let her emotions run away with her. Even if he weren't
going back to Janis, he would never risk marrying
another career woman, and especially another doctor.
He'd made that perfectly clear.
'It's a great day for a hike,' he commented as they
hoisted their backpacks over their shoulders and set off
from the picnic area.

'Fabulous,' Anna agreed, sweeping her gaze across
the clear sky. 'Perfect temperature.'
They walked steadily for some time without speak-
ing, and she wondered uneasily when Scot would tell
her of his decision. When he did break the silence it
was only to point out birds and help her to make a
sighting. With their heads together over the field guide
identifying what they saw, there was a certain intimacy
which frayed her nerve-ends raw.
Mid-morning they paused for coffee, and as she
shrugged out of her backpack and sat down on a
convenient log Anna thought, This is it. Now he'll tell
me.
But Scott talked only about birds. It almost seemed
that he was deliberately avoiding the subject of his
marriage. Once or twice their eyes met and his
expression made Anna's pulse race expectantly, but
then he would take on that withdrawn look again and
still said nothing. She began to get jittery. As soon as
she had finished her mug of coffee, she stowed her
Thermos back in her backpack and stood up.
'Ready?' At least when they were walking she didn't
feel quite so uneasy.
Scott nodded and they set off again. After a few
minutes, he said suddenly, 'How do you feel now
you're assured of a place in med school next year?'
'Scared! Especially as I'll be starting in second year.
I keep thinking someone must have made a mistake
and I'll get a letter any day telling me so.'
He laughed. 'You must feel elated too?'
'Yes, of course—I'm overwhelmed. It's what I
always wanted, Scott, and I can hardly believe it's
going to come true at last. I just hope I'll be able to
cope, being a late starter.'

'You'll cope,' he said confidently. 'I don't think
you'll let yourself be distracted.'
Anna said firmly, 'I intend to work hard. I know it
won't be easy, but it'll be worth it.'
Silence descended again except for the occasional
pause to birdwatch, and around midday they arrived at
the waterfall. The curtain of water fell noisily from a
fissure high up in the cliff face, and the cloud of fine
spray hovered over the bush below as before, moved
gently by the slight breeze until it evaporated in the
filtered sunshine. For a moment Anna stood still,
wrapped in the memory of the last time she had been
there.
'We'd better sit over there,' Scott was pointing, 'if
we don't want to get damp.'
They scrambled over rocks and rivulets to reach an
outcrop of sunwarmed sandstone where acacias were
flowering and the purple pea flowers of the hardenber-
gias were intertwined with the undergrowth. A grey
butcher bird gave a fluting call as it flew from the gum
tree near where they intended to picnic into a tree a
little further away.
'He's not going too far,' Anna observed. 'He knows
picnickers when he sees them.' She slipped her back-
pack off her shoulders and chose a spot where there
was another rock for a backrest.
Scott sprawled close beside her. 'Peaceful. . .' he
murmured, looking at the sky. Then he looked at her
and smiled in the sultry, enigmatic way he sometimes
did which sent feathery tingles down her spine.
Anna wondered how much longer she could contain
her impatience. Why didn't Scott get it over with? All
he had to say was, 'I'm going back to Janis. I wanted
to let you know, as you've been so understanding.'

Inwardly, she laughed at herself. Why should she
expect him to pay her a compliment? She'd commiser-
ated with him once or twice, that was all.
Their sandwiches and fruit were soon eaten, and the
rest of the coffee consumed. Anna lay back against the
warm rock watching a rainbow which had appeared in
the spray from the waterfall. If there were a pot of gold
at the foot of that rainbow, she mused fancifully, you'd
need a pneumatic drill to get at it through the rock.
The shimmering rainbow and the sound of falling water
were hypnotic and she almost fell asleep. Scott's voice,
however, suddenly penetrated.
'Anna. . .'
She turned her head and held her breath. 'Yes?'
'I thought you might be interested to know that I
saw Janis on Saturday. We had a long discussion.'
Anna felt a dark wave rolling over her, drowning
her, but she forced herself to listen. 'I guessed you
were with her. I'm not surprised, Scott. I always
thought you'd end up going back to her, and I hope
you'll be happier this time. . .' The words came out in
a rush as though she'd rehearsed them.
There was a fleeting sadness in his eyes, but also firm
resolve. 'I'm not going back to her, Anna.'
Shock and disbelief were Anna's instant reactions,
but Scott's face told her that he meant what he had
said.
'But I thought. . .' She was stunned, but she dared
to ask, 'Why not?'
He was forthright. 'It wouldn't work, Anna, because
it would be for the wrong reasons. We should never
have married in the first place. And I know she only
wants me back now because the American job fell
through and she needs to have her morale boosted. If

I went back to her she'd pretend to all her friends that
she'd turned down the US job because "Scott begged
and pleaded with me to go back to him".' His mouth
twisted. 'She'd play at being a martyr for a while, and
when that novelty wore off. . .' He shrugged. 'In any
case, if I went back to Janis it would only be out of
pride, because I was still refusing to admit I'd made a
mistake, that I was a failure. That's no basis for a
reconciliation.'
'I'm glad you realised that,' Anna said quietly.
Their eyes met, and the power of their attraction for
each other had never been greater. Anna's heart was
flipping erratically enough to put a cardiologist in a
panic.
Scott reached across the space between them and
stroked her hand where it lay on the rock. She with-
drew it abruptly.
'Anna. . .' His voice was husky, his eyes betraying
his emotion. Anna knew that hers would be a give-
away too. 'Do you know,' he said softly, 'some of the
best times of my life have been spent with you? You're
always just yourself, never role-playing, or seeking
personal advantage. You're so natural and nice.' He
smiled sensuously. 'It drives me crazy wanting to make
love to you, but I'm never more content than when I'm
with you.'
Anna wondered how she was supposed to interpret
such words. 'It's my training,' she joked. 'I got ten out
of ten for bedside manner!'
'I'll teach you to mock!' Taking her by surprise, he
pulled her towards him and rolled over on to his back
so that she found herself spreadeagled across his body.
They were both laughing, but the laughter quickly died
as the strength of another more primal emotion sub-

merged them. His face was close, and his lips were
reaching for hers. Anna closed her eyes as the sensual
warmth of his mouth brushed hers lightly, then crushed
it with an urgent hunger. A wave of need engulfed her,
and she felt its parallel shudder through him as he
pressed her hard against his taut muscular thighs and
trapped her legs between his own.
When he drew his lips away from hers for a moment,
her eyes flipped open and read stark desire in his.
'Anna. . .' There was anguish in the way he whispered
her name. 'Oh, Anna, I want you so much. . .'
Anna's strength of will was weakening. She could
resist a mere sexual attraction, but love complicated
life. Unless he loved her. . . 'Scott. . .' Her voice was
a faint protest in the back of her throat, hardly audible.
He gave her no chance to say more. It was as though
the tight rein he'd kept on himself was suddenly
slackened, and he gathered her into an embrace that
almost cracked her ribs and robbed her of breath. It
did more than that. It robbed her of reason tempor-
arily, and she gave herself up to the fires that were
burning so fiercely inside her, and without doubt in
him too. The sound of the waterfall pounding into the
pool seemed to fill her head with sound, to blot out the
world and leave her stranded in a space bubble with
the man she loved so much it hurt. She could not think,
and had no choice but to surrender her will to his and
take the consequences.
In the heat of passion they had forgotten where they
were. It was Anna who suddenly became aware and
gasped, 'Scott, no, not here. . .someone might
come. . .'
He looked dazed, then groaned. 'Damn!' He rolled
over on to his stomach, and she ran her fingers through

his tousled hair, picking out the bits of grass and seed
that had clung to it.
'Sorry. . .' He sat up and grasped her fiercely.
'Anna. . . Anna. . .' He pushed aside her unbuttoned
shirt and buried his head against her warm rounded
breasts once more. 'I wish. . .Oh, God, you're so
beautiful. . .so special. . .' And then abruptly he rein-
stated control. A shaky laugh burst out of him as he
traced her jawline with a tender finger. 'We'd be so
good together, Anna.'
Anna had regained her common sense. 'I don't think
that would be wise.'
He grinned at her suddenly. 'Do you always have to
be wise? Why not be frivolous for once? You don't
want to get involved, neither do I. We'd be protection
for each other.'
She gave a brief laugh. 'Do you know what you're
suggesting?'
Scott's face was grave, but his eyes were still
smouldering. 'Anna, I'm not suggesting marriage,' he
said, as though she were scorning it. 'We have our own
ways to go, you to become a doctor and I—well, I'd be
a fool to risk getting involved in the same kind of
nightmare again, wouldn't I? But what could be wrong
with us getting together now and then. . .?'
His words doused the faint hope Anna had foolishly
allowed to flare. 'For a little sexual relief, you mean?'
she said harshly. 'A jolly little now-and-then affair?'
Scott looked hurt. 'You're making it sound sordid!'
'It is sordid,' she said. 'We'd be making use of each
other in the worst possible way.'
He tried smiling to soften her angry look. 'I thought
it would be in the nicest possible way.'
She was really angry with him now. 'That's typical of

a man! Utterly insensitive. So long as your needs are
satisfied, you don't give a damn about anyone else, do
you?'
He grasped her hand and held it tightly, although
she tried to wrench it away. 'Anna, that's not
fair. . .You have needs too, and you can't deny it. You
were as aroused as I was a moment ago. We could have
a lot of fun together, and not just in bed—I like you a
lot, I admire you, and we seem to have a lot in
common. What's wrong with a relationship that has no
strings attached?' He paused. 'You'll get horribly
lonely if you keep yourself to yourself for the next five
years, especially as you're not the kind of woman to
toss lovers on and off like sweaters.'
Anna could not tell him why a relationship with no
strings attached was impossible, that a one-sided love
was worse than no love at all. She stood up and walked
down to the edge of the pool below the waterfall, her
emotions in turmoil, too choked to speak.
Scott followed and slid his arms around her waist
and rested his cheek against her hair. 'What's the
matter?'
Anna turned on him furiously, her control snapping.
'You great clod, can't you see? Can't you see. . .?' She
wrenched free of him, and faced him with blazing eyes.
Anger was her only defence against the mounting
misery inside her. Then with an effort of will she
summoned a temporary indifference and said, 'It's OK,
don't take any notice of me, Scott. I'm a
bit. . .well. . .' Her words evaporated, and her head
seemed to be spinning out of control again.
He approached her, a puzzled expression in his grey
eyes. 'Anna, I've never seen you so uptight. . .' As she
stared at him like a cornered animal, the light of

realisation began to dawn in his eyes. He caught hold
of her hands. 'Anna, don't. . .don't fall in love with
me. Is that why you. . .?' He grasped her shaking
shoulders. 'Anna—oh, God, this is terrible! I'm
sorry—I wasn't looking for. . . Hell, I've been a blind
fool, haven't I?'
'You don't have to apologise,' she said, gathering
the shreds of her dignity together. 'You don't have to
do anything, Scott. . .' Her fragile control collapsed
again, and suddenly there was only one way out of the
awful humiliating predicament she was in, and that was
to run. 'Just leave me alone!' she sobbed, and like a
wounded animal that saw a last chance of escape, she
turned and ran blindly into the bush.
She heard Scott call out, but she did not look back.
She wanted to get as far away from him as she could.
Desperate misery welled up in her and spurred her on.
She gave no thought to where she was going, just
plunged on through the bush, slamming through the
undergrowth, swerving instinctively to avoid trees, her
mind a confusion of emotions. The noise she made
crashing through the bush drowned out any calling
from behind her, and when at last she was forced to
stop by a stitch in her side, and leaned against a tree,
her own rasping breath was the only sound in her ears.
Gradually her breathing subsided to a more normal
rate, and with the calm that followed panic she looked
around her. She was deep in unfamiliar territory. But
not lost, she told herself firmly. She could easily find
her way back. Scott was probably following her
anyway. He'd catch up with her in a minute. She half
smiled now as she thought of how she'd outstripped
him, and then she remembered why she'd run, and a
wave of chill despair washed over her. What an idiot

he must think her! But she would have to face him and
apologise. With dread, she started back. The sun had
been behind her as she ran, so all she had to do was
walk into it and call out occasionally.
She tried to call out, but her mouth was dry and only
a pitiful squeak came out. She realised she was terribly
thirsty, but there was no water where she was. She
moistened her lips with a tongue that now felt thick
and dry. Her legs were rubbery and she felt dizzy. But
Scott couldn't be far behind. She tried to call again,
but still the sound seemed to travel no further than the
next tree. And he wasn't calling. If only he would call,
she could make for the sound.
Keeping the lid tightly on her panic, she trudged
wearily back through the bush, with the sun in her
eyes. How was she going to face him? He would be
angry with her, and disappointed. And she'd commit-
ted the unforgivable sin of revealing that she was in
love with him. She had given him a new burden. She
must relieve him of it somehow, she thought. She must
convince him that her wild flight had some other basis
or that she was just—just what? Her brain offered no
plausible explanation.
'Oh, God, why did I make such a fool of myself?'
she whimpered, dragging herself wearily through
bushes that scratched and tangled and seemed put
there deliberately as obstacles.
And then all at once she heard a faint 'Cooee!'
'Scott!' she squeaked. 'I'm here!' But there was no
way he could have heard her. 'Just keep calling,' she
prayed, and gave thanks as the sound penetrated the
silence once more.
She staggered towards it, desperately trying to mois-
ten her mouth enough to call in reply. Eventually she

managed a creditable call, and to her joy it was
answered. Gathering her last reserves of strength, she
plunged on, until to her chagrin she suddenly came to
a dead end. She was at the edge of a cliff and there was
a steep drop of thirty or forty feet into the bush below.
How had she got there? she wondered in amazement.
And then from below came another loud call.
'Scott!' she yelled. 'Scott. . .' She saw him, coming
through the trees towards the foot of the cliff. He was
limping. Anna's brow creased anxiously. How had he
injured himself? She felt guiltily that it was her fault.
He looked up.
'Anna!'
'Oh, Scott. . .' she whimpered, tears sliding down
her cheeks. 'I'm coming. . .' she said in a choked voice.
He called out urgently, 'Stay where you are. Don't
move, or you'll get lost again. I'll be up with you in a
minute.'
Anna stared at him as, despite whatever injury he
had sustained, he backtracked and began to climb the
steep incline some yards away from the vertical part of
the cliff, where it provided the easiest ascent. She took
a step to make her way towards the point where he
would reach the top, and as she did so a considerable
portion of the edge of the cliff gave way beneath her
feet. Uttering a shrill scream of terror, she plunged
downwards with a landslide of rocks, bushes torn out
by the roots, and earth. She heard Scott give a stran-
gled shout, earth filled her mouth and eyes and ears,
something hit her with a dull thud on the back of the
neck and she knew no more.

CHAPTER  ELEVEN

'SHE'S coming round! Get Dr Carroll!'
Anna, who had been semi-conscious for some time,
heard the voice as from the other side of a curtain, a
voice that was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place
who it was. She opened her eyes and this time they
stayed open. Details began to register. She was lying
on her side. The walls were white. She was in bed.
There was someone else in the room, outside her line
of vision, then within it, bending over her, smiling—a
woman in a pale blue uniform. A nurse.
'Anna. . .' the nurse was saying softly. 'Hello! Come
back to us at last, have you? Welcome! Dr Carroll will
be relieved.'
'Anna?' Anna murmured the name in a puzzled
tone, then said, 'Sorry—you're Anna.' Her wits were
slow. What was she doing in bed, with a nurse. . .?
God, hospital! She was in hospital. Hurt. How. . .?
As panic gripped her, she tried to sit up. 'What's
wrong with me? What happened?' She clasped her
head trying to remember, but there was a terrible void,
a total blank. And her hands made contact with a
bandage. Oh, God, she'd injured her head. She took
her hands away slowly. Something was pulling at the
inside of her elbow. She stared at the tube attached to
her arm as she fell back against the pillow.
The nurse placed that arm gently back on the coun-
terpane and examined the patch where the tube
entered Anna's arm. 'Careful, you'll pull the tube out,

though I dare say Dr Carroll will want to remove it
anyway now you're awake. It's all right, Anna, you're
not badly hurt. Lie back, and don't upset yourself.' She
propped another pillow behind Anna's head. 'It looks
as though you've temporarily lost your memory, but
don't worry, it'll come back. It's just the concussion.'
She beamed. 'I'm Fran. You don't remember me?'
Anna shook her head. 'No. . .' She asked tenta-
tively, 'My name's Anna?'
'Anna Mackay,' Fran told her. 'Sister in charge on
the women's surgical ward at Mount William Hospital.'
She searched Anna's face for some sign of recognition.
Anna was shaking her head, dismayed. 'I can't
remember. . . What happened to me?'
Fran said gently, 'I think I'd better leave that for Dr
Carroll to tell you. Scott Carroll—surely you remem-
ber him?' A smile briefly lightened her anxiety.
Anna shook her head.
'He'll be here in a minute. He said to call him the
instant you recovered consciousness.' Fran smiled
again. 'He's been a very worried man, Anna. He hardly
left your bedside for days.'
Anna was startled. 'How long. . .have I been
unconscious?'
'Nearly two weeks.'
'Two weeks!' Anna gasped. 'I've got brain damage!'
Fran laughed. 'I don't think so. Mind you, consider-
ing what happened, you were lucky not to injure your
spine or fracture your skull. You were just shaken and
bruised and rather heavily concussed, I'm afraid.'
'Where did it happen?' Vague images seemed to be
trying to come together in Anna's mind, like clouds
scudding across each other in a stormy sky, formless
and insubstantial, impossible to grasp hold of.

Fran said firmly, 'Dr Carroll will explain.'
As she spoke the door opened and Anna found
herself staring at a tall, brown-haired man with very
handsome features, a little gaunt, but good-looking
none the less. A faint warmth trickled along her
veins, and as he approached the bed and looked down
at her, grey eyes devouring her, she was gripped with
the most astonishing sensation, and blushed. I know I
should recognise him, she thought, distressed, but
who is he? And why do I feel so. . .so attracted to
him?
He sat on the bed and held her hand. 'Anna. . .at
last!'
She heard Fran say quietly, 'She doesn't remember
anything about the accident, Dr Carroll, or who she is
and who we are.' She smiled again at Anna, reassur-
ingly, and quietly went out.
Anna looked questioningly at the doctor. 'She said
you would explain what happened. I can't remember
anything. . .'
His dark eyebrows almost met in a deep frown.
'Nothing at all?'
Anna shook her head.
'You don't know me?' he asked.
'Only that you're a doctor,' she said. 'Please tell me
what happened.'
There was deep pain in his eyes, which puzzled her.
Then a dizzying thought struck her. There must be
some personal connection between her and the doctor.
She frowned, trying hard to remember. It was so
frustrating.
Dr Carroll said, 'You were out bushwalking in the
Grampians, last Sunday week. You were walking along
the top of a cliff when part of it gave way, and you

went down with a landslide and were almost buried by
the rubble. A rock gave you one hell of a clout on the
back of the head.'
'You were there?' Whether it was memory or intui-
tion that made her think so was not clear to Anna.
He squeezed her hand tightly. 'I go bushwalking too.
We belong to the same club.'
She felt a calming warmth. 'You rescued me?'
'With a little help from the emergency services.'
'Fran said I'm not badly hurt.'
He shook his head. 'Thank God, no. You were
covered in bruises and grazes, but by a miracle no
bones were broken. You jarred your spine and gave
your ankle a nasty twist, but that's all. Especially as
you were practically buried alive. You slid most of the
way down on top of the landslide as though you were
tobogganning, until you reached the bottom and then
the whole lot just broke up and buried you.'
'I was lucky there were other people there,' said
Anna, shuddering.
The grey eyes met hers with a look she couldn't
fathom. He said, 'Yes,' in an even more enigmatic
tone.
'I feel so tired. . .'she whispered.
His fingers were on her pulse, and the touch was
electrifying. Did she always react this way to doctors?
she wondered.
'Go to sleep,' he said. 'You need a lot of rest. I'll
come and see you again when you wake up, and we'll
talk some more then. Maybe you'll start to remember.'
Anna's voice became slurred. 'I hope so. This is
crazy, not even knowing my own name, or that nurse,
or you, and yet I know I ought to. It's all there,
muddled up.'

He rose, still holding her hand. 'You might never
remember the actual accident,' he said, 'but you'll
probably remember most of what happened prior to
it.'
'I've got a strange feeling,' Anna murmured sleepily,
'that you're not just a doctor at the hospital where I
work. . .'
To her surprise he bent and kissed her forehead.
'You're right there, Anna.'
Her eyelids were heavy. She had closed them before
she heard the door close behind Dr Carroll. She
strained to lift the veil that seemed to block her mind,
but it stayed firmly in place. Except that she had a
strange intuitive feeling that something was very
wrong. As the thought took root, a terrible despair
came with it and tears oozed out from under her closed
lids and slid down her cheeks on to the pillow. There
was something she knew instinctively she did not want
to remember.

She slept for eight hours solid and woke with a start
when a nurse came into her room.
'Hello, Fran,' she said, then clasped her hands over
her ears. 'Fran—of course, it's you! How stupid of
me—how could I have forgotten. . .?'
'It's all coming back, then?' Fran looked relieved.
'That's great. I thought we might have to wait a while
longer.'
'Not everything.' Anna shook her head in frus-
tration. 'I can't remember what happened—the acci-
dent—but I remember Meg's wedding, having dinner
with her parents, going on a bushwalk. . .' She stopped
short. Not an ordinary bushwalk, but alone with Scott.
It was all coming back now, and a shudder ran through

her as she recalled that day, what he had told her, and
how she had reacted to him, then quarrelled with him
and run off in a blind panic.
Fran checked her blood-pressure, pulse and tem-
perature, then asked if she was hungry.
'Yes, I think I am,' muttered Anna.
'You were fed intravenously, of course, while you
were unconscious,' said Fran, 'but I dare say you'd like
some decent food!'
'Mmm. . .thanks.'Anna was trying to force her mind
beyond that moment when she had run off into the
bush, but there was just a brick wall.
'Dr Carroll will be along to see you shortly,' Fran
said. 'I'll tell him you're awake.'
'No. . .' Anna caught a puzzled look from her. 'No,
don't bother him.'
Fran smiled. 'He wants to be bothered, Anna!' She
added, 'He's been nearly out of his mind with worry.
He blames himself, of course, going off alone, just the
two of you instead of with the usual group. It was
pretty traumatic for him, I guess. Just as well he has a
car phone, or it might have been ages longer before he
could get help.' She smiled. 'You never let on you were
going out with him, you dark horse! Well, from what
I've seen this past fortnight, you couldn't have a better
partner, and I reckon you're precisely what Doc Carroll
needs.'
Anna shook her head. 'It isn't like that, Fran. . .'
But Fran wasn't listening. 'Simone and Liz send their
love and they'll come and see you later when Dr Carroll
says you can have visitors,' she said before hurrying
away to inform Dr Carroll that his most precious
patient was awake and seemed to have regained a good
deal of her memory.

Anna lay and stared at the ceiling, but she had little
time to mull it over, because within minutes he was in
the room, smiling at her, sitting close and holding her
hand.
'Hello, Anna.'
'Hello, Scott.'
'Fran tells me your memory's coming back.'
'Yes.' Anna looked at him with anguish. 'Scott, I'm
so sorry. . . It was stupid of me running off like
that.'
'You were upset.'
'That's no excuse. I shouldn't have gone over the top
like that.'
He laughed. 'You sure did go over the top—
literally!'
She managed a smile at her unintentional pun. 'I still
can't remember that. It's coming back slowly. . . Now
I remember stopping with a stitch, and thinking you
must be right behind me, but you weren't, and I
realised I was lost. It was a terrible feeling, but I tried
to keep calm. I started walking back the way I was sure
I'd come, then I heard you calling. I reached the edge
of the cliff and saw you down below. . .' She stopped.
'You were limping.'
He answered the questions in her eyes. 'I would have
caught up with you long before if I hadn't tripped and
bashed my knee on a sharp rock. I thought for a minute
I'd smashed the kneecap. By the time I started after
you again, you were out of sight and I couldn't find
you.'
'You still came after me, in spite of your knee,'
Anna marvelled.
'I couldn't leave you. It was on the cards you'd get

lost. The bush is pretty dense around there, and in
your emotional state anything could have happened.'
'Which it did,' she said slowly. Her brow creased in
amazement. 'After I fell, you must have walked all the
way back to the car to get help. That must have been
agony!'
He squeezed her hand tightly. 'The only agony was
not knowing how badly hurt you were. I made you as
comfortable as I could on the spot because there was
no way I could carry you to the car, and in case you
recovered consciousness I left you a note.' He fumbled
in his pocket and produced a crumpled sheet of folded
paper torn from a notebook. He handed it to her. 'It
says something I want you to know.'
Anna took the note and unfolded it. She read the
pencilled words with incredulity.
Anna, have gone for help. Don't leave this spot—
please! I'll be back soon. Don't try to run away
again. I couldn't bear to lose you. I love you, and I
want to marry you. Please believe I mean it. Scott.
'It was a good ruse to keep me stationary,' she said
with a twisted little smile.
'It wasn't a ruse, it's true,' murmured Scott. He lifted
her hand to his lips. 'I want to marry you—if you'll
have me, of course!'
'You don't have to marry me because you feel guilty
about—how I feel, and my nearly killing myself,' Anna
told him. 'You needn't be afraid I'll do anything stupid
again. It wasn't emotional blackmail.'
'I know it wasn't! Anna, please believe me. . . I do
want to marry you.'
'But you vowed never to get involved again,' she
said. 'You made it very clear that	'

'I know. That was how I felt—or thought I felt. I
tried hard not to get involved with you, Anna. But I
was involved, right from day one when I knocked you
off your bike and thought I'd killed you. And then out
there in the bush I thought I really had killed you. It
was as though fate was trying hard to tell me some-
thing! When I dug you out of that rubble. . .'
'You dug me out?'
'With my bare hands. There was nothing else, and I
didn't think I could do it, that you'd be asphyxiated
before I uncovered you, but luckily you weren't too
deeply buried and the earth was soft. I got some water
from the creek and cleaned your face as best I could
and washed your mouth, and all the time my fingers
were straying to your pulse, fearfully. . . I knew then,
Anna, that life wouldn't be worth living without you,
that, in spite of myself, I loved you. I knew that you
were one big reason I could never go back to Janis,
that you were the woman I wanted to spend my life
with, and I was a fool to be afraid it wouldn't work.
You're not like Janis. You're sweet and funny and
wonderful, and. . . I love you.'
'I thought you just wanted a now-and-then physical
affair,' Anna said hesitantly, still not quite believing.
He sighed with deep remorse. 'I don't know how I
could have been so cruel. I must have been blind not
to know how you felt, not to realise that suggesting
such a thing to you was an insult, but I was trying so
hard not to fall in love with you—and I honestly
thought you were concerned only with taking up medi-
cine again, that you were a career woman. I was stupid
enough to think that, like Janis, you only had a one-
track mind.' He smiled ruefully. 'I even encouraged
you, because subconsciously that's what I wanted you

to be—a career woman—so I wouldn't risk falling in
love with you. I didn't want to experience the pain of
love ever again.'
'Oh, Scott. . .' Anna's eyes were bright with tears.
'It's all very well to say that, but truly I don't have to
be a doctor. I don't want to do anything except be with
you. . . If you're afraid it will make a difference, I
won't do it. It's not important.'
He frowned at her and scolded, 'Don't lie! It's very
important to you. You are going to be a doctor. You'll
always hanker for that lost chance if you don't take it
now. You made your sacrifice when you gave it up to
look after your mother. You're not going to do that a
second time. Not for me.'
'But you don't want a wife with a career—you said
so.'
He bent forward and kissed her lips. 'I want you for
my wife, Anna, and whatever you want I aim to help
you achieve it.'
'But that's what led to conflict with Janis,' she
protested.
Scott looked earnestly into her face and said with
deep conviction, 'Because we weren't in love. You and
I are different, Anna. You and I will work out the
problems, not blame each other for them. We'll talk
things over and compromise if we have to, because
more important than either of our careers will be our
need to be together.' He looked at her solemnly,
anxiously. 'Say you agree with me.'
Anna felt the warmth of love filling her. 'I agree with
you, Scott.'
Relief smoothed away his anxiety. 'Will you take a
chance and marry me?'
She smiled. 'You're not free to marry yet.'

'In one month,' he told her, ' I will be.'
She murmured, 'Are you really sure you won't mind
if I go to med school?'
'Of course I won't mind. I'll be immensely proud of
you.' Scott smoothed a hair from her forehead. 'We
might both have to make a few sacrifices, but we'll pull
through. We have something special, Anna, that Janis
and I never had. We're in love.'
Anna couldn't deny it. She dragged a hand across
her eyes. 'Am I dreaming all this? Am I still uncon-
scious? Delirious?'
He drew his fingers tenderly down her cheek. 'No,
it's all real,' he said. 'Absolutely real.'
She reached her arms up and clasped her hands
behind his neck. 'Oh, Scott, I do love you so much,'
she whispered, laying her cheek against his. 'That's
why I ran away. It hurt so much I couldn't bear it—
that you didn't love me. . .'
'But I do, my darling,' he murmured against her ear.
'I was falling deeper and deeper in love with you all
the time, only I wouldn't admit it. Haven't you noticed,
men are somewhat stupider than women when it comes
to their feelings? I had to nearly lose you to see just
how precious you were to me, that nothing in the past
was a reason for not letting myself love you.'
She sighed deeply. 'But I have to admit that I was "a
stupid bloody wench"!'
Deep laughter rumbled through his ribcage. ' I think
we'll reserve judgement on that.'
Anna pressed her lips to his. 'When can I be dis-
charged? I feel fine now. Just a bit weak.'
'We need to keep an eye on you,' said Scott. A
wicked glint came into his eye. 'What if I took you into

CROSSROADS OF THE HEART	187
my personal care? I think in that case I could safely
discharge you quite soon—like tomorrow, maybe. . .'
She clasped his hand and lifted it to her lips, lightly
kissing the palm. 'You couldn't make it tonight, could
you?' she murmured silkily.
Scott smiled. 'I guess I could wangle it, Sister!'