Like now. Kirsty-the-Intern and Simon-the-Cardiologist had disappeared into the sunset, protesting personal concerns so serious they needed to break their contracts. They’d left a house agog with gossip, two bereft lovers and a hospital that was desperately understaffed.

Crocodile Creek, Remote Rescue Base, for all of far north Queensland, was notoriously short of doctors at the best of times. Two doctors were away on leave, a third had somersaulted his bike last week and was still in traction, and a fourth-unbelievably-had chickenpox. The two doctors who’d left so hastily hadn’t considered that when they’d started their hot little…personal concern.

Dammit, Cal thought. Damn them. Now there was a bereft and confused Emily, and Mike, whose pride at least would be dented. Both were wonderful medics and fine friends. In such a confined household even Cal would be called on for comfort, and if there was one thing Dr Callum Jamieson disliked above all else, it was getting involved. All Cal wanted from life was to practise his medicine and commune with his beer.

And not think about Gina.

So why was he thinking of Gina now? It had been five years since he’d seen her. She should be forgotten.

She wasn’t.

It was just this emotional stuff that was making him maudlin, he thought savagely. The old bush-nursing hospital that now served as Crocodile Creek’s doctors’ residence seemed to be a constant scene for some sort of emotional drama-and dramas made him think of Gina.

Gina walking away and not looking back.

He had to stop thinking of her! Gina had been his one dumb foray into emotional attachment and he was well out of it.

Maybe he should find Mike and play some pool, he thought. That’d clear his head of unwanted memories, it’d stop him swearing at the sea and maybe it’d help Mike.