Meghan had a plan, turned out it wasn’t the right one.

Featured book this week is The Country Practice
by Meredith Appleyard.

Let’s take a closer look…

After working in a London emergency room, a month as a GP in rural South Australia can’t be that hard – or can it?

Meghan Kimble is taking control of her life. Newly single, she’s returned to Australia to follow her dream of working as a GP. Her first stop is a month-long locum in the colourful community of Magpie Creek.

It’s been ages since the town has had a permanent doctor and Meghan is generating more than her fair share of attention, especially from forthright farmer Sean Ashby. A handsome man with a difficult past, Sean isn’t shy about making his intentions known to the redheaded medico.

Against her better judgement, Meghan finds herself charmed by the enigmatic Sean. But time is against her and when love threatens to derail her career plans, she’s forced to reassess her priorities in ways she never imagined. Is Meghan ready to fall for all that life in Magpie Creek has to offer?

Excerpt from Chapter 2

Sean looked at Meghan, her lips pursed and her expression a mixture of exasperation and curiosity. She really was something else. All that red hair. He dragged his attention back to the task and turned to reverse out of the park.

‘We were at Rob’s place when he had the chest pain. I just dropped everything to get him in the ute.’ He remembered how Rob had cried out and clutched his chest, his face ashen. It’d been like déjà vu. His father had fallen to the ground clutching his chest in much the same way. And they’d been fencing then, too. The outcome had been so very different.

He pushed the memory to the back of his mind and concentrated on the track as it wound its way through the scruffy mallee scrub. It was only five hundred metres to the matron’s residence but the track was narrow and rutted.

Meghan grabbed the seat, twisted around to see her suitcase and duffel bag bouncing about in the back. ‘Sean! My bags look like they’re going to fall out —’

He glanced in the rearview mirror and slowed as they rounded a bend and the cottage came into view. ‘Home sweet home.’

Before them, in the mellow light of late afternoon, was a small stone cottage with a carport added on the side as an afterthought. Salt-damp had risen to the bottom of the window sills. The building render was crumbling in places, the gutters were pocked with rust and the verandah posts appeared riddled with wood rot. A few sad geraniums bordered the path up to the cracked verandah.

‘It looks . . . ah . . . rustic,’ she said as she opened the door and they climbed out of the cab.

He snorted. ‘Rustic. Probably ready to be bulldozed, more like.’

‘It’s not that bad. I’m sure it’ll be quite comfortable.’

She smiled and Sean felt his heart turn over in his chest. He lifted her bags off the tray. ‘Bloody hell. What have you got in these damn things?’ he muttered as he carried them up the path to the cottage.

Meghan opened the screen door and was unlocking the front door as he crossed the verandah with her luggage. ‘Your hand! Watch those stitches. I’ll get the bags in a minute.’

‘You just open the door,’ he said, and she held the screen door open with her hip and pushed the front door.

He manhandled her bags through, and she followed behind and flicked on a light. She scanned the compact living area and kitchenette. ‘It’s a lot like the last place I lived in. About the same size.’

The place had a run-down, faded feel. The furniture was an eclectic mix that looked like it was government-issue or sourced from backyard garage sales – all rejects from the sixties and seventies. There were brown carpet tiles in the living room and on the kitchenette floor the pattern had almost been mopped off the vinyl. A thoughtful person had left a bowl filled with fresh fruit on the bench and when she opened the fridge she saw bread, butter and milk. There was tea and coffee in brittle, brown Tupperware containers sitting on the cupboard.

‘It used to be the matron’s place,’ he said, wrinkling his nose at the stale air that was heavy with salt damp. ‘But I can’t remember the last time a matron lived here.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ Meghan said. ‘A bit of fresh air, some sunshine —’ But he noticed her smile wasn’t quite as bright as it had been outside.

‘At least I won’t starve,’ she said.

‘I could talk to Jenny, see if we can find you somewhere better to stay. I’ve never been in here before. I had no idea —’

‘It’s okay, Sean. Jenny has enough to worry about. It’s close to the hospital and I don’t have a car. It’s just for four weeks and I’ll only be here to eat and sleep.’

Sean exhaled and tried not to imagine her sleeping anywhere. He failed miserably and had to turn away on the pretext of moving her luggage out of the doorway. Then she was beside him, taking the duffel bag out of his injured hand, dropping it onto the sagging sofa.

‘Here, let me look at that dressing,’ she said and picked up his hand, her eyes going wide when she saw that blood had oozed through.

‘Oops, sorry, Doc.’ She smoothed her fingers over the dressing. She had attractive, capable hands; slender fingers, no rings, neatly trimmed nails. When they’d shaken hands earlier her grip had been cool, firm.

She let go of his hand and stepped back. ‘I’m sure it’ll be okay. Just keep an eye on it. And don’t over-use it for a few days. Get your wife to change the dressing tomorrow.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘You know very well I don’t have a wife. I saw you read my chart.’

 

A Country Practice is available in eBook and paperback from good retailers.
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MEET MEREDITH APPLEYARD here on Australian Rural Romance

Visit Meredith on her webpage MeredithAppleyard.com.au
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