Flight to Coorah Creek Page 14

  The radio crackled again and Jessica dragged her thoughts back to her job. It was not a good idea to get distracted when approaching a new airfield on one of the busiest days in the year.

  Jess loved to see a new place for the first time from the air – an eagle’s eye view of the towns and roads and rivers forming a patchwork so far below her. She liked to guess what crops grew in the farmlands, or what stock grazed the open paddocks. She would try to picture the people who lived and worked in the tiny matchbox buildings below her and wonder in what way their lives were different to hers. The day she had seen Coorah Creek from the air, her first thought was that she had fled as far away from her past as it was possible to get. That she had reached the very back of beyond. Looking down at Birdsville, she knew she had been wrong. The Creek was a thriving metropolis compared to Birdsville.

  The biggest thing about the town was the airport – if such a description was valid for a couple of corrugated iron sheds and a long thin line of tarmac. There was a shorter dirt landing strip crossing at right angles to the tarmac. Either one was longer than the town’s main street. If indeed it could be said to have a main street. Three roads – from the north, south and east – met at the centre of four town blocks, each with a handful of buildings. To the south, there were maybe twenty homes clustered near a large reservoir, filled with water that was deep green in colour. To the west, a thin line vanished among the sand dunes. That, she guessed, must be the famous Birdsville Track leading into the Simpson Desert; the vast arid heart of the country. That road had claimed more than a few foolhardy souls who had set out unprepared for what they would face. Around the tiny town there was nothing. Vast open plains baked so dry by the sun that she could not imagine any life there. Restless sand dunes that could obliterate a road in a few hours. A few steps from any front door, there was only desert.

  It was probably the loneliest place Jess had ever seen.

  Or it should have been. It would have been, except for the hive of activity below her as the town prepared for the race meeting, just two days away.

  There were already several small planes parked in a neat line down one side of the airstrip. Vehicles scurried up and down the roads like ants. To the south-east of the town, there was even more activity. The sun glinted off the shiny new metal of a roof that hadn’t even been up long enough to accumulate a layer of dust. A faint oval outline in the yellow dust indicated this was the Birdsville Race Track. Her radio crackled as, not that far to the east, another light aircraft announced that it shared her destination.

  ‘How many people did you say normally live here?’ Jess asked Adam, who was also peering out of the window from the co-pilot’s seat beside her, a wide almost boyish grin on his face. He was clearly looking forward to the next few days of madness.

  ‘Maybe one hundred and fifty in a good year. A fair few tourists pass through heading into the desert too.’

  ‘And for the next few days?’

  ‘Usually about six thousand.’

  ‘Where are they going to put them all?’ Jess looked out of the window again. ‘There aren’t enough houses here for six hundred.’

  ‘There’s a caravan park. And a campsite. Most people bring tents. Some sleep in their cars or camper vans. Some sleep with their planes – in them or more likely under them.’

  ‘Well, just as long as no one tries to sleep in or under this one!’

  For the next few minutes, Jess was busy bringing the plane in for her usually gentle touchdown. She rolled the Beechcraft to a stop next to another air ambulance bearing the badge of the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Adam lowered the aircraft stairs and tossed their bags to a man who was waiting to greet them. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and mirror sunglasses. Jess didn’t need the wings on his collar to identify him as a fellow pilot. Everything about him said ex-military.

  ‘Good to see you again, Doc.’ The pilot briefly shook Adam’s hand, but his eyes swung immediately to Jess. ‘I guess you’re the new pilot.’

  ‘I guess I am. Jess Pearson.’

  ‘Greg Anderson. Welcome to the team.’

  She couldn’t see his eyes through her own reflection in his sunglasses, but Jess could feel Greg’s close scrutiny as they shook hands.

  ‘Right, I’ll let Greg show you the ropes here,’ Adam said, as he slung his rucksack onto his shoulder. ‘I’m going to check in at the hospital. I’ll see you later at the pub.’ With a quick smile he set out across the dusty earth towards a small cluster of low buildings that was the town. Jess watched him go. He walked quickly with such energy and bounce to his stride. He had the air of a child encountering a fun fair. Did nothing ever give him pause, she wondered.

  ‘So, Jess, let’s get your plane squared away and I’ll show you around,’ Greg offered. ‘A lot of people fly in for the races, but we get priority at all times. The apron is all ours … the civilians have to park out of the way along the side of the dirt strip.’

  As he spoke another aircraft appeared, turning for its final approach. Jess and Greg watched it touchdown in a neat and controlled landing. The pilot waved at them as he taxied past, close enough for his face to be visible through the window glass. Jessica’s heart skipped a beat. He looked familiar. The world of private pilots was a small one. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that someone she knew – or more importantly someone who knew her – might be on their way here. Might be here already.

  Jess felt the familiar urge to run, then she almost laughed. Where would she go? She couldn’t run any further than this. She was as far from that courtroom as it was possible to get and not just in terms of distance. She looked around at the dust and the desert and the tin sheds. If she wasn’t safe here, she wasn’t safe anywhere.

  ‘The medical team all have rooms at the pub,’ Greg said, as they waited for the newcomers to join them. ‘The private pilots have to camp, but they usually hang out with us. We’re all on duty, so we can’t drink much – if at all. But you’d be surprised how much of a party a hundred odd pilots can have with a couple of cans of coke and a few packets of Twisties.’

  ‘I’m not much for parties,’ Jess said quietly. All it would take was one of those pilots to recognise her. Someone based in Sydney. Someone who read the papers. Someone who’d heard her name mentioned … No, she would keep her distance.

  ‘You’ll like this one. We’re a pretty tight knit bunch, the outback pilots,’ Greg said. ‘We look after our own.’

  There was something in the tone of his voice … Jess turned to look at him. He’d removed his sunglasses, and one look at his face told her. ‘You know who I am,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I know you’re a good pilot. I know you drive an air ambulance. That’s all I need to know. All anyone needs to know,’ he said in a gentle tone.

  Jess closed her eyes and took a firm grip on her composure. She wasn’t ready for this.

  ‘You know, we’re just the pilots here,’ Greg continued. ‘Everybody ignores us. The press are too busy with the visiting celebrities and the drunks doing foolish things to pay much attention to the likes of you and me.’

  He was telling her she was going to be safe. She wanted to believe him. She really did … but it wasn’t easy.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know the drugs were on my plane.’

  ‘Jess, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, or to anyone out here for that matter,’ Greg said. ‘In the outback, you’re judged by what you do – not what people say about you. You work with the doc. You help people. Out here that means a lot. And it’s all anyone needs to know.’

  How she wanted to believe those words.

  Jess heaved a small sigh of relief as the new arrival approached. She didn’t know him. Maybe, just maybe this was going to work out all right.

  That thought stayed with her for a while. She met some other pilots, learned
the layout of the town. Greg took her for a drive to see the stretch of flat land that once each year became a racetrack. Teams were hard at work setting up temporary stalls for the horses, and a bar, and railings around the course. Like most people, Jess had seen other horse races on television. The smooth green grass. The bright jockeys’ silks and fashionable ladies wearing big hats. She equated horse racing with the clink of champagne glasses amid carefully tended rose beds. This dusty group of people building something out of almost nothing was totally beyond her wildest imaginings. As the tour ended at the pub, Jess was beginning to enjoy the experience.

  Greg introduced her to a harried publican who tossed her a room key as he dashed past clutching glasses of beer. Promising to join the pilots later, Jess took the key and headed for the long low line of motel-style rooms behind the pub. She found the right door and opened it. She slowly looked around the room. Saw the rucksack that had been tossed casually onto one of the two double beds.

  Oh, no, she thought as she recognised it. Surely not?

  ‘Can I give you a lift, Doc?’

  ‘No thanks. I’m good.’ Adam waved the driver on. He was enjoying a chance to stretch his legs. He loved the feel of the activity all around him. The energy of dozens of people who were building a wonder out of a bare patch of sand. And these races were a wonder. Thousands of people gathered where normally there was nothing but dust. Horses running where normally lizards lay soaking up the sun. A community built on the edge of nowhere.

  He loved the energy and excitement of the place and he was looking forward to showing it all to Jess. He wanted to watch her face, waiting for that smile. The one that seemed to light up the whole world. It was rare, but it was worth the wait.

  Adam raised a hand in greeting to another vehicle, waving the driver on as he passed. Out here people seldom walked anywhere. The heat and the burning sun made sure of that. But today was relatively mild and the afternoon was drawing to a close. The sun was low on the horizon, adding a lovely golden glow to the bare earth. Adam liked to walk. He liked to feel that gentle warmth on his skin.

  He’d been to check the medical facilities at the racetrack. Well, medical facility was too grand a description for a newly constructed shed. But it had power, water and air-conditioning. The shelves were stocked with a good selection of medical supplies. Enough to deal with the drunken foolishness and the small accidents that always brought people to his door. Anyone with real injuries would go to the Birdsville clinic. It was smaller even than his little hospital in Coorah Creek, but for these few days it was supplemented by enough supplies and people to deal with all but the most severe emergencies. And for those … well, that was what the air ambulances were for. Jess could get them to a major hospital in just a couple of hours.

  Jess.

  Less than a kilometre ahead of him was the cluster of buildings that made up the town. Jess would be there somewhere. No doubt the other air ambulance pilots had shown her around the airstrip and the town. They would have given her some idea of what the next few days would be like. From a professional point of view. Now both of them had done what their jobs required, Adam wanted to show Jess what he loved about this place and this event. To the left of the track he was walking along, Adam could see the campsite taking shape. Although the bulk of the visitors would arrive tomorrow, there were already dozens of tents set up. Barbecues were already burning and when the wind wafted in the right direction, he could smell the steak cooking. The makeshift bars were also in place. There’d be a few drinks taken tonight – but not too many. Most of the people already here were the workers and would take it easy. The real party would start tomorrow when the punters arrived. He’d be tied to his work then. But tonight he wasn’t needed. Tonight the desert waited … and so did Jess.

  Adam quickened his steps.

  ‘G’day, Doc!’

  The greeting came from several of the crowd at the bar when Adam entered the Birdsville pub. He greeted those he knew, but all the time his eyes were searching for one person. By the jukebox, easily identified by their white shirts and badges, several pilots were talking over glasses of what looked suspiciously like orange juice. Jess wasn’t among them. Perhaps she’d gone to find her room. Adam pulled his own key out of his pocket. That wasn’t such a bad idea. He was sweating after his walk. He’d have a quick shower and find Jess. Maybe they could eat together.

  His room was dark, the curtains drawn against the sun. He tossed the keys onto the dresser and crossed to the window. He flung the curtains back – and was rewarded with a flood of gentle light from the setting sun. He unbuttoned his shirt and was slipping it from his shoulders as he turned, only to be frozen in the act by the sight of a golden woman, almost naked, lying on his bed.

  ‘What …?’

  Jess was asleep. Her long legs curved graciously across the bedcovers. Her skin was gilded by the setting sun and looked as soft as satin. She was wearing a tiny tank top and a pair of white lacy briefs. Her body curved in all the right places. Her hands, so strong and competent in the cockpit of her plane, lay open on the bedcover, the fingers curved slightly as if trying to hold on to some fragile thing. Her hair framed a face softened by sleep. She looked tranquil and young and vulnerable.

  And so very, very sexy.

  Adam’s body shook with a wave of pure sexual desire. He wanted to stretch his body beside her. To run his fingers up the golden satin of her thighs. To press his lips to the curves of her breasts. To taste the rosy lips. He hadn’t felt a need this strong for years. No. He had never felt desire this strong. And to feel it now for someone so beyond his reach made him want to cry out with the pain of it.

  Jess stirred sleepily, raising an arm to protect her eyes from the sunlight. Then with an intake of breath, she rose into a sitting position, her legs folding under her, her hands grasping her top to pull it downwards, in a vain attempt at modesty.

  Suddenly aware of his own body, Adam pulled the shirt back on, swiftly buttoning it.

  ‘Adam?’

  Adam knew he should avert his eyes. He would, if he had conscious control over himself. But the sight of Jess’s body like this was more than any man should be expected to ignore.

  ‘What are you doing in my bed?’

  Jess lowered her hand as her eyes became accustomed to the light. ‘Actually,’ she said in a voice blurred by sleep. ‘This is my bed. You can have the other one.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Adam’s wits had scattered to the four corners of the earth.

  ‘I’ll explain, but first, would you mind?’

  ‘Mind …? Uh. Yes. Sorry.’ Adam turned his back. He stared out of the window at the dry brown earth, while behind him a creaking of bed springs suggested Jess was getting off the bed to dress. Adam felt a flash of regret.

  ‘You can turn around now.’

  Jess had pulled on a pair of blue jeans, but the image of her lovely body was seared into his brain. He wasn’t likely to forget that for a while. He took a slow breath and pushed it aside. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Apparently, you neglected to mention to anyone that you now have a female pilot. They have put us both in one room as they did—’

  ‘Last year,’ Adam finished the sentence for her. ‘Jess. I am so sorry. I’ll go talk to the publican and organise another room for you.’

  ‘I already talked to him. There is no other room. Some wit suggested you could sleep in the jail cell. I thought that was a pretty good idea, but the police sergeant says he’ll probably need it.’

  He hoped she was joking. ‘Don’t worry, Jess. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.’

  ‘But there isn’t anywhere.’

  ‘I’ll find something. A spare sleeping bag in someone’s tent. A bunk in a camper van—’

  ‘No you won’t. You’re here to do a job. You need a proper bed and a real bathroom and this is the only one
available. We can share. After all, we’re colleagues. Right? There’s no reason why two colleagues shouldn’t share a room?’

  No reason at all, Adam thought, except for the image of Jess’s body burned into his brain. ‘No,’ he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. ‘None at all, if you’re sure it’s okay.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘But …’ Adam said, ‘it might be a good idea if you refrained from lying around in a state of undress.’

  Jess blushed. ‘I’m sorry about that. I decided to have a shower and … well … we were up and on the way very early this morning. I guess I just fell asleep.’

  She looked so good when she blushed. This sharing a room was not going to be easy. Well, not for him at least.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, if you’re up for it, why don’t you head down to the bar. I’ll wash off the worst of the dust and buy you dinner.’

  ‘But … according to Greg the pilots and doctors eat for free,’ Jess grinned mischievously, ‘so I guess you’re going to have to buy me a lemonade instead.’

  He’d happily buy her anything she wanted, Adam thought after she’d gone. He just hoped her afternoon nap hadn’t left her too rested. He wanted her tucked up in bed early this evening, If he was going to get any rest at all tonight, there was no way he was going near their shared room until she was safely asleep – under the covers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Birdsville races always left a new layer of dust at Coorah Creek.

  There were several unfamiliar cars parked in front of the pub. Of the crowds who flocked to the annual race meet, quite a few came by car. And many of those chose to break the long journey from the east coast by spending a night at places like the Creek. All of the rooms at the pub would be full tonight, and the campsite would be doing a brisk trade, too. Jack knew that Syd and Trish Warren were more than happy to take the extra income this weekend. In fact, that was why he was here … to help Syd change the kegs. Not that he’d asked. Syd didn’t like to admit that he wasn’t as young as he used to be. But Jack knew if he just dropped by, the older man would be pleased to accept a hand with the heavy lifting.