Chapter One
The cackle of a kookaburra rang from the top of a gum tree that lined the banks of Rush Creek.
Its early morning laughter warmed Piper Hendrix more than the ceramic mug of coffee in her hands.
Not that she needed warming. The late November heat was starting early, a hint at the summer ahead.
What else did she expect, moving this far north into the sunny state?
She’d wanted something different, needed something fresh, and here it was.
Taking another mouthful of coffee, she swallowed it with a cringe and tipped the rest out at the base of a tree.
She turned to her home away from home—her beloved bright orange split-screen Kombi—and threw the mug in the sink of its tiny kitchenette.
Rhythmically, she started the pack-up process: made her bed; folded her camping chair and slid it inside; emptied the kettle and stored it in the cupboard; rolled up the awning.
Checking the time on her watch, she quietly sank down in the open doorway.
She was getting too proficient. There was still time to kill before her first official shift at Rush Creek Country Hospital.
Another kookaburra joined its mate, the chorus drowning out any other animal that wanted to have a say.
Piper smiled. She’d never gotten ready for work to a tune like this before.
Neither had she ever gotten ready in a free campsite by a creek. She’d have to grab a shower at the hospital after her shift.
A buzzing from her pocket distracted her, and she pulled out her phone to find several messages.
Her mum was sending her kind thoughts and long-distance hugs, her stepfather reminding her to keep an eye on the Kombi’s oil levels, and her big brother prompting her that he was always there for her whether he was in the city or his new property in their old town of Euronga.
Piper read the messages over a few times, smiling when a new one came in from her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Indy.
It didn’t have words, just a photo of the sunrise stretching up behind the mountain range that encased Euronga.
For once, Piper had her own beautiful landscape to look at.
One that was full of nature and animals, instead of the urban concrete rectangles surrounding ribbons of bitumen.
The only unread messages left on her phone were from him.
He’d messaged her every day, but she hadn’t opened the last few. Wanting to get it over and done with, Piper pressed on them.
I miss you.
Don’t you miss me, Piper?
Why aren’t you answering?
Is this what we’ve been reduced to? You taking off without a word and now you’re not talking to me?
I thought I meant more to you.
Guilt mixed with anger. What more could she possibly say that she hadn’t already? What did he want from her?
He wanted you to stand by him.
Piper let out a frustrated huff as her guilt doubled, exceeding her anger.
Her mind flashed back to the moment Heath had walked in on her squishing her belongings into the biggest suitcase she’d been able to order on Amazon.
He had stood in the doorway of the bedroom they were supposed to share, but which she’d spent more nights alone in than with him, his sweats and stained white T-shirt a far cry from the ironed business shirts he’d wear outside of the surgical theatre.
‘I’m leaving,’ she’d blurted, as if it weren’t obvious. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore.’
Heath’s words still rang in her head: ‘How can you walk away when I need you the most?’
‘How can you actually think I’d stay after what you did?’
She sighed, still able to picture the handsome Dr Heath Illario that she’d happened to run into on the hospital’s rooftop during her first week.
It’d been the perfect spot to finally take a breath after the first half of her busy emergency department shift where she’d been incredibly overwhelmed by the pace at which everything happened.
She hadn’t realised she’d been sharing the courtyard above the equally busy streets of Sydney with Heath.
His chest had been puffed out proudly, his golden short back-and-sides hair precisely combed and scrubs stretching tellingly across broad shoulders.
She’d fallen instantly. Along with multiple other women in the hospital—doctors, nurses, administration staff.
But it was her he’d chosen to give his attention to.
Piper had been flattered by his pursuit of her, even if she didn’t understand it.
How had she not seen it? How had she been so blind? She’d left that mess so far behind her. Now she needed to let it go in her mind as well.
Piper stood from the Kombi step and checked around the campsite to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind.
Not that it mattered too much—she’d be back tonight.
After she’d showered at the hospital. Piper pressed her lips together and shook her head with amusement.
She’d gone from a doctor salary–funded penthouse apartment to camping out by the creek in her Kombi and squatting in the bushes.
No one would believe it even if she told them.
Fall from grace?
She scoffed at the direction of her thoughts as she twisted the Kombi’s key and the engine spluttered to life.
More like getting back to her roots. The new head unit her stepfather had put in the Kombi started playing ‘Exile’ by the queen herself, Taylor Swift.
Piper screwed her nose up and quickly thumbed through her playlists.
With one click, the opening chords of ‘Lose You to Love Me’ started playing.
Taking the dirt track away from the creek, Piper sang loudly, letting her mood soar upwards with the sun. Today was going to be a good one. The sun was shining, there were new friends to be made and soon she’d be helping people again.
After pulling into a park, Piper jogged up the hill to where the blue signs indicated the hospital sat.
The single-level red-brick hospital stretched across the top of the hill, partially hidden behind wellmaintained gardens.
Piper paused out the front to take it all in, a little out of breath.
Despite the length of the building and the helipad to the far left side, it was significantly smaller than any of the other places she’d worked.
Excitement bubbled within her. She’d always wanted a rural nursing position.
Somewhere without all the specialists, equipment or colleagues to rely on.
Where you had to trust yourself and make do with what was there.
A challenge. She was more than ready for it.
Piper pushed open the front door of the Rush Creek Hospital and entered the main lobby. The area was neat but dated and sparse. She pressed her lips together. Which door did she go through first? There was no one sitting behind the desk at the front of the room.
A tall woman in scrubs walked through the automatic doors to her left.
‘Piper Hendrix?’ she asked.
‘That’s me.’ Piper’s shoulders loosened when a warm smile filled the other woman’s face.
‘I’m Cara Phillips.’ She stuck her hand out for Piper to shake. ‘I’m glad you’re here. The agency has been trying to help us fill this position for a while, but no one seems to stay around.’ Cara turned on her heel and Piper hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder as she followed.
‘Why’s that?’
‘They come for the experience then head for somewhere bigger.’ Cara led her through the sliding doors. ‘We’re a small country hospital with a main ward and emergency department only. This is our ED.’
Piper looked around at the crisply made beds lining either side of the large room. It was only a tenth of the size of what she was used to working in, but excitement washed through her nonetheless.
‘The ED closes at five and everything goes through to the main ward, which is manned by three nurses overnight. We have a locum in from Townsville through the day who’s on call at night.’
‘Does he get called in often?’
Cara shook her head. ‘No, but when he does, it’s horrific. All serious cases go to Townsville via ambulance. Critical cases get airlifted by the Royal Flying Doctor Service. The ambulance station is at the bottom of the hill next to the firies. You probably drove past it on your way up here.’
Piper cast her mind back to the little brown brick building with two large roller doors. The familiar emblems named it unmistakeably.
A handful of nurses wandered through the door at the far end of the ward.
‘Ah, I was hoping this lot would be around soon,’ Cara said, gesturing to them.
‘Through that door is a staff room, where you’ll be able to store your belongings, as well as a kitchenette, fridge, bathroom and a bunk room for naps during night shift.
’ She turned to the group of nurses. ‘Ladies and gent, this is our new nurse from Sydney, Piper Hendrix. She’ll be commencing with us today and I expect you all to answer any questions she has. ’
‘Of course we will, Cara,’ said a female nurse on the left with dark skin and a bouncy brown ponytail. ‘You make it sound like we’re a closed-off mob.’
‘Piper will soon learn we’re all oversharers.’ A vibrant redhead grinned at her, showing off a white smile. Piper couldn’t help but smile back.
‘Mmm,’ Cara hummed dryly. ‘Piper, meet Maddie.’ The redhead gave a wave. ‘Greta.’ The bouncy brown ponytail girl smiled. ‘Robbie and Audrey.’ A man with a closely shaved head also grinned and the blonde next to him dipped her head in a nod.
‘Nice to meet you, and apologies in advance if I have to ask your names a few times,’ Piper said. They shared a laugh and Piper’s anxiety at meeting a new crew dissipated a little.
A beeping from the phone that Cara held drew their attention. ‘Maddie, can you show Piper where she can put her things, please?’
‘Sure,’ Maddie said, but it was to Cara’s retreating back as the head nurse bustled out of the emergency department.
Piper glanced around. ‘Is it normal for there not to be any patients?’
Maddie gestured towards the staff room door. ‘We move all patients over to the main ward when the ED closes each day to start fresh in the morning. You’re from Sydney?’
‘Yep. The ED’s never empty there.’ Piper laughed.
‘This will be a big change for you then. Why come all the way to Rush Creek? Have you got family out here?’
Piper shook her head as Maddie held the door to the staff room open for her. ‘Just needed a big scenery change and a fresh start.’
‘Well, you’ve come just in time for Christmas.’
Piper’s brow folded. ‘Christmas? It’s like six weeks away.’
‘Not in Rush Creek.’
‘QAS just pulled up,’ Maddie called after lunch.
QAS—Queensland Ambulance Service. Piper finished tucking the sheet under the corner of the bed and joined the redheaded nurse in the bay closest to the door for assessing patients.
As if she had ultrasonic hearing, Cara came through the doors from the waiting area and squirted sanitiser on her hands.
Robbie was taking observations of an elderly lady on another bed and Audrey and Greta were on their lunch breaks.
The door from the ambulance bay opened and the soft cries of a little girl filled the emergency room.
Empathy flowed from Piper at the sight of the patient on the stretcher, her hair in braids, her blue and yellow uniform dusty.
She was clutching her arm to her chest. ‘Eight-year-old Moni Rays took a tumble from the monkey bars,’ the female paramedic said as she walked alongside the stretcher. ‘Suspected broken wrist …’
The woman’s voice and everything she was saying faded when Piper caught sight of the other paramedic pushing the stretcher into the bay.
His light brown hair was pulled away from his face and knotted at the back of his head in a man bun, his broad shoulders swathed in the green of his jumpsuit uniform and he wore a plaited leather band around his wrist. He locked the stretcher in place and looked up, straight into Piper’s eyes.
She was frozen by the familiar hazel stare, so she didn’t miss the shock of recognition.
‘Piper?’
Her name on his lips jarred her out of her frozen state. ‘Emmett. What the hell are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing.’
‘Let’s focus, people.’ Cara’s voice was stern.
Piper quickly jumped in next to Maddie and gripped the bottom of the sheet to move the little girl over to the bed.
‘On my count …’ said Cara.
‘I thought you said you didn’t know anyone in Rush Creek?’ Maddie whispered.
‘One … two …’
‘I didn’t know he was here.’
‘Three.’
They lifted the girl from the stretcher as a woman burst through from the waiting room, her daughter’s name on her lips.
Piper glanced back to Emmett. Holy crap. Emmett Coleman was here in Rush Creek. Memories of doodling his name in the back of her high school notebook swamped her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she recalled what else she’d written. Piper Coleman.