Cal nodded. Hamish, Crocodile Creek’s paediatrician, was out game fishing but it should be possible to call him back. If this base had both a paediatrician and a cardiologist, then it was reasonable to leave this little one here. Good, even.

But would Gina stay?’

‘Charles, I also need to find Gina.’

‘Sure you do, Charles agreed. ‘Get these tests organised, talk to Harry and then go find her. She’s over at the house, out on the veranda.’

Of course. Charles knew where everyone was, all the time.

‘I’ll go, then.’

‘You do that.’

She was alone.

Cal walked out the back door of the doctors’ residence and Gina was sitting on the back step, staring out over the sea.

The old hospital used now as doctors’ quarters and the new state-of-the-art Remote Rescue base were built on a bluff overlooking Crocodile Cove-a wide, sandy beach with gentle waves washing in and out of the gently sloping shallows. In the foreground lay the Agnes Wetherby Memorial Garden. The garden was fantastic-a mass of tropical plants such as the delicately perfumed orchids, creamy, heady frangipani, crotons with their vividly coloured leaves, and more. A wide natural rockpool lay off centre surrounded by giant ferns, and from the veranda Cal could hear the soft croak of tree frogs enjoying its lush dampness.

Beyond the garden was the rock-strewn slope leading down to the beach-thick grassland dotted with moonflowers, their fat leaves looking just like butterfly wings. The sunlight glinted through the garden, the soft wind shifting the dappled shade. It was beautiful.

Gina was beautiful.

He’d thought that the first time he’d seen her, and nothing had changed. Not a thing.

She wasn’t dressed to attract. She never had. Now, in faded jeans, a stained T-shirt that was truly horrible, battered sneakers…