Harlequin Medical Romance

I’m back in town and this time I’m here to stay.

So who am I, you ask?

I’m Jack Campbell.

… fire fighter.

… newly-appointed Captain of the Dustin Country Fire Brigade.

and husband of Dr Elizabeth Campbell.

I’ve made mistakes, hurt the person I love most in the world… in short, I’ve been a damned idiot. But now I’m home for good to put things right.

How did I get to this point?

Just when you think you know what you want, when you’ve got your life mapped out, fate has a way of lobbing a burning ember into a pile of dry gum leaves.

The issue of having children was the ember that incinerated my marriage to Liz.

Something really strange happened today. I met a woman who told me too many yes- women make Nash a spoilt boy.

I think I’m in love!

Her name’s Maggie. I’ve nick-named her Maggie May – can you believe I actually heard Rod Stewart singing in my head!

And when she told me I should be playing with girls my own age, I just knew I had to have her. I’ve never had a woman play hard to get. She has no idea how much that makes me want her more!

See, women love me. I suppose that makes me kind of conceited but its just the way it’s always been. Growing up in the outback, the only boy in a family full of females, I guess I learnt really early how to twist them around my little finger. And then I became a doctor and moved to the city and there are so many women here. Man! It’s a veritable feast. And if there’s one thing those city girls love, it’s a country boy. Throw in a medical degree and they’re all over you. Especially when you don’t conform to the conventional city doctor type.

Me, I prefer my Levis and open necked shirts to trousers and neckties. I like to wear my hair a little longer and take the time to get to know people. It’s the outback way.

Women dig that.

Except Maggie.

Gideon smiled as he strode through A and E on his way off-duty, completely unconcerned whether he looked like an idiot.

‘You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself, Doc,’ commented one of the security guards. ‘Had a win on the lottery?’

‘Better than that,’ he said, and realised he’d become the stereotypical expectant father when he reached for his wallet and extracted the latest ultrasound images. ‘Look at the two of them… both hearts beating strongly and everything exactly as it should be. That one’s the girl and that one’s the boy.’

‘Sorry, Doc, but that looks like some sort of modern art seen in the fog during a power cut,’ he apologised. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of those scan things.’

‘Well, just take it from me that they’re perfect… absolutely perfect,’ Gideon told him and continued on his way.

An elderly patient, obviously well-accustomed to the fact that she might have to wait several hours to be seen, was calmly sitting in Reception, knitting something small and lacy. Charmed by her industriousness, he threw her a wink and was delighted when she returned it, her cheeks suddenly several shades pinker at her own daring.

She was definitely the sort of person he would choose for a grandmother for his children, he thought with a pang for the sheer lack of family that were waiting to greet those two little people.

My life was a straight arrow… graduated first in my class, youngest emergency care specialist ever appointed in Australia, a fantastic job that defined me and plenty of beautiful women to date once or perhaps three times max. Don’t get me wrong, relationships suit some people but marriage and children, they’re not for me. I’m city boy going places So why am I 400 miles from the big smoke, growing organic vegetables in Port Bathurst, a sleepy seaside town ringed on three sides by hills covered in towering eucalypts and by turquoise blue ocean on the other?

Life throws a curve ball every now and then and mine came hard, fast and slugged me with the biggest challenge of my life. Cancer. I’ve fought it and I’ve won but anyone who’s been through chemo knows that ‘wading through mud’ feeling that drags at you and I’m here to have six months just for me. Six months to get well in a place where no one knows me, no one knows what I’ve been though, and no one looks at me with that look of ‘is he really OK?’ Six months just to be Nick Dennison, vegetable farmer before I step back into my real life again. At least I think that’s what I want.

That was the plan anyway.

Dear Natalie,

Despite the fact you keep ignoring all my attempts at gaining your forgiveness, I know you haven't forgotten the amazing weekend we met any more than I have.  Yes, I screwed up that weekend in Atlanta during the 3 day breast cancer walk where we both volunteered as part of the medical crew.  But you have to understand; when I met you, you took my breath away and I just wanted to be me.  Not a widower who'd lost his first love to breast cancer, not a single father struggling to be both mother and father to his five year old daughter.  I didn't want the desire in your eyes replaced with sympathy, and let's face it, women look at men who are fathers in a different light than men who are single and carefree.  That weekend I wanted to be single and carefree.  I wanted you to keep looking at me as if I was the sexiest man alive.  That weekend with you left me feeling whole for the first time in years.  You make me whole again, Natalie, something I'd thought impossible after Jamie's death.