When Ava’s car had hit the guardrail on Zac’s side, it had been so fast he didn’t have time to shift away. Something in the deafening maelstrom of their crazy spin ripped his shoulder open and smacked the back of his head, and his vision blurred until they stopped spinning and landed with a thwump back on the vehicle’s wheels, but he’d stayed awake.
Blinking with difficulty, Zac opened his eyes. Red dust swirled around them, and for a full minute he couldn’t see. Then his breath caught at the horror of red streaming down Ava’s face from a gaping wound in the middle of her forehead.
A wound he’d seen once before. Exactly like one he’d seen before. This was his fault. Again.
His brain screamed No! so loudly it escaped in a moan through his lips. Ava was dead. Or worse. Comatose.
Panic surged like a swirling black tornado in his brain, ripping his consciousness with the horror of his worst nightmare and swallowing him. His mind churned and the edges of the world grew dim. Everything went blessedly black.
When Zac began to take in his surroundings, it was the familiar routine sounds of a hospital he noted. Which hospital, he had no idea. In fact, the events of how he’d arrived here remained strangely elusive. His head pounded and he raised his hand to touch the spot. A thick bandage met his fingers at the back of his skull. Head injury? And his arm hurt.
Below the fog in his mind, a panicked urgency fluttered to get out and his heart pounded with the need to remember. He’d almost woken several times, pushing through the gentle weight of unconsciousness, and sometimes a whisper of an elusive feminine voice clamoured for his attention. Always it said the same thing. ‘Zac?’ There was something about the voice that calmed him, until eventually, the nightmare receded as he clawed his way up through the mists of confusion.
He remembered saying, ‘Roslyn?’ And then the patient in the next room cried out and some instinct made him swing his legs off the side of the bed to render the fellow assistance, but before his feet could touch the floor a nurse hurried towards him.
‘Back in your bed, Dr Logan, please. Dr Fithers will be here soon. You stay resting till the doctor comes.’
When she saw that Zac was in no more danger of falling, she hurried out the door and he heard her soothe the other man’s distress.
To Zac’s relief, someone he knew, George Fithers from med school, appeared at his side, and after a moment’s hesitation he perched awkwardly on Zac’s bed.
‘It’s good to see you alive, Zac.’
‘Hello, George. Was I that close to death?’
‘You’ve had a big couple of months.’
What month would that be? he thought but he didn’t ask. It would come back. ‘Where am I?’
‘Alice Springs.’ George studied him. ‘A bit hazy on that, are you?’
‘A bit,’ Zac admitted cautiously.
‘Not surprising.’ George steepled his fingers and considered him. ‘You came to work for me here a week ago. A locum appointment, though.’ He gave Zac a mock glare. ‘You’re off sick now.’
‘Sorry about that.’ Zac was never sick. But that wasn’t what he needed to know. ‘What happened with this?’ He slid his hand around the back of his neck again and winced when the pressure stung.
‘Car accident. Impact and roll over, and a branch came through the side door and knocked you out. You’re lucky it didn’t take your head off.’
Zac winced. ‘Harder to get over that one.’
‘Beyond my help,’ George agreed. ‘But you’ll be fine. It happened on the road out to Uluru. You were hit by a speeding campervan.’ He sat back. ‘You had to wait for a storm to pass before the RFDS flew you in here.’
George seemed to be watching his face intently, but none of this rang any bells.
‘What can you remember?’ George’s question seemed careful, and Zac had the impression the doctor was trying not to upset him.
Why would it upset him? Zac closed his eyes and tried to remember the events of the last few days. ‘Today is Sunday?’ he asked, and George nodded. He even looked slightly relieved, so that was good.
‘I’m not cheering yet. You had a one-in-seven chance of that being right. Try the date,’ George urged gently.
Zac could remember asking patients these questions. He stared down at the white hospital sheet for a moment. ‘I can remember Valentine’s Day. Roslyn’s funeral. I got home from Weipa last week. So mid-March? I had lunch with my parents and signed the papers for the house sale. So maybe the twentieth of March?’
George didn’t meet Zac’s eyes, but he nodded as if he’d confirmed something he’d suspected. ‘Today is the fourth of April.’
Zac forced down another of those sudden panic surges and had to concentrate to keep his voice even, which hurt. ‘How long did you say I’ve been here?’
‘Twelve hours.’ George sat back and stared at him. Zac wanted to know what he was thinking.
April? He shook his head and winced. He’d lost a couple of weeks. ‘It feels like March.’
‘There’s no doubt you sustained a major blow to the head, but you were lucky. The X-rays we took show no fractures to the skull and the CT looks clear of any clot or haemorrhage formation. Apart from your memory glitch, the injury shouldn’t cause you any further trouble, but of course, I’d prefer you avoid small aircraft flying for a few weeks.’
Memory glitch? Zac’s knuckles whitened on the bed as the panic attacked his throat again. He needed to remember something, but it was completely out of his reach. ‘Was anyone with me in the accident?’
George hesitated. ‘There was a nurse, an agency midwife, Ava May, from one of the cattle stations out of town.’ George’s voice stayed carefully expressionless. ‘She works here a fair bit. You two met last week. She’ll be in to see you in the morning.’
Still no bells. ‘Was she injured?’
George touched the middle of his forehead. ‘She’ll heal. She was knocked out briefly as well, but you were both very lucky to be strapped in, apparently. We’re keeping her overnight, but she should be allowed to go home in the morning sometime with her family. They’re here with her.’
At least not like Roslyn. But another car accident. Another woman injured. ‘Who was driving?’ He fervently hoped it hadn’t been him.
‘She was.’ George stood.
Relief flooded through him at that. He slid his hand back to where he felt the bandages at the back of his head and the pressure made his head throb. The name Ava May struck no chord of recognition, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t remember the accident. At least the amnesia was focal and he remembered who he was. It was the when that eluded him. All things considered, it could be worse.
‘Focal amnesia.’ George echoed his thoughts. ‘Tricky and possibly permanent. Usually, it’s the result of trying to block out a particular incident or fear. Not surprising really. It’s been a tough few months with Roslyn, then this accident that nearly took you out.’
Zac shook his head. It was all too much and none of it made sense. ‘How did I get to Uluru if I was working here?’
‘You went down for the weekend. Many locums do.’
He couldn’t remember any of that. He’d just have to wait for his memory to come back.
George glanced at his watch.
‘How long do I have to stay?’ Zac asked.
‘We’ll do another scan in the morning and talk about it after that. The crazy part was, although it’s a small wound, you could have bled out if Ava hadn’t put pressure on your arm. You nicked a vein and we had to give you a transfusion, so your loss of blood made you more critical than you should have been. She watched you at the Yulara clinic despite her own head injury. The staff had their hands full with the occupants of the other car. This was tough on her, but she’s known for her toughness. Anyway, must go.’ George looked anxious to get away.
‘You pressed for time and manpower?’
‘Yes,’ he said sardonically. ‘One of my locums nearly killed himself with a head injury.’
‘Thoughtless fellow,’ Zac quipped.
‘Indeed.’ George smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’
When George left, Zac tried to sleep. Until the panic came in the form of dreams and fractured scenes in the middle of that sleep and he tried to stay awake. But the vat of emotional bleakness stayed with him, cold and unforgiving and ominous.
Maybe he’d be more settled when he met the woman who had driven the car tomorrow.
Except he forgot she was coming.
He was dozing the next morning when a quiet knock at his door made him turn his head. A blue-eyed, blonde woman stood in the doorway. She had a plaster across the centre of her forehead and a huge purple bruise on her cheek. He winced in sympathy. That must hurt.
Despite the professional face she wore, he noticed that her hands jittered with a slight tremor, even though she held them tight by her sides. For some absurd reason he wanted to comfort her.
‘Can I help you?’ His voice croaked with dryness and he reached for the glass of water.
When she didn’t answer he wondered if he should ring for the nurse, but he was just too tired. He leaned back against the pillows. ‘Have you come to the wrong room?’
‘No. This is the right room.’ She drew in a distressed, shaky breath.
A suspicion formed in his mind that perhaps the last person who had been in this bed had died and she hadn’t known.
‘I’m sorry, but do I know you?’ Although he felt inadequate, she wasn’t his problem. He had enough problems. He looked away.
The woman lifted her chin as if annoyed with herself, then drew herself to her full height. ‘I’m sorry, Zac.’
His eyes flew back to her. She knew him.
‘I’m Ava. I should have started with an introduction. I was in the accident too. We’ve known each other for a week.’ Her voice had evened to become low, melodic and caring.
Ah, the nurse George had mentioned. He should have remembered. She had a good voice for a nurse.
She closed her eyes for a second and he wondered if she had a headache as well. Of course she would, with that bruising. She opened them again, then added, ‘Are you okay?’
‘Ava. Yes. Thank you. You stopped the bleeding, apparently?’ To his surprise, tears began to trickle down her cheeks until she dashed them away impatiently.
He sat up, held out his hand and pretended he didn’t feel as weak as a kitten. Her body looked lithe and well balanced and it allowed her to move almost silently. Like a dancer. She crossed the room and let her small hand rest in his palm. The physical touch of her warmed him in a place that had been cold for too long. This was becoming stranger by the minute.
‘You should rest, Zac.’ The way she said his name rustled like a breeze against his memory, but before he could pin down the thought she gently pushed him back against the pillows. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’ She bit her lip and swallowed, and he realised she was quite emotional about their meeting. ‘But I can see this isn’t the time,’ she said calmly. ‘You don’t remember me.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘Sorry.’ He wanted to comfort her yet didn’t know how. ‘Everything’s pretty fuzzy about the last couple of weeks.’
‘Dr Fithers warned us.’ There was a strange expression in her eyes. ‘I’m sure it will come back if you don’t push it.’
‘Of course … Us?’
‘My family. They’ve come into town to be with me. You haven’t met them.’
He touched his bandage uncomfortably. ‘Well, sorry I don’t remember you, but thanks for checking on me.’
She reached out a hand to smooth the sheet. Zac thought she might be going to cry again, but then she pulled herself together. Thankfully. That would have been awkward.
A week. He didn’t know her well, then. That made him feel a little better that he’d forgotten her. She watched him warily. Waiting for him to say something, the colour a little high on her cheeks. He couldn’t help noticing her freckles. He liked the softened angles of her face and the lush mouth that hinted at a sensuality he hadn’t thought about for years.
The silence stretched and Zac found himself filling it. ‘So, we were driving out to Uluru at sunset?’
‘Yes. We were hit and the car rolled.’
And they’d survived. That was good news. ‘I’m sorry I can’t remember you, but I’m glad you’re okay.’
‘I’m glad you are too.’ She looked at him again and then she blinked and straightened. ‘I’ll come and see you before I leave.’ She gestured behind her to the empty doorway. ‘Do you have plans for when you leave the hospital? If you wanted, when the hospital releases you you could come home with us – we live on a property not far from here – until you got better. My mother’s a nurse, too – so was my grandmother – so you’d be well cared for.’
Maybe they ran some outback convalescent home? He wasn’t sure how that could be a viable business, but who was he to doubt? ‘Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine and will be back at work soon.’
She looked as if she was going to say something, but then seemed to change her mind. ‘It’s up to you.’
‘Thanks for the offer.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m sure it’s very nice there.’
She smiled as some memory lit her face, and he was struck by the thought that he could watch her forever. He felt his own lips curve in response. Perhaps it could be worthwhile to follow her up as a possible means of prodding his subconscious, if his memory didn’t come back by the time he left here.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘I’ll be in town for another day or two. I need to organise new transport. If you’d like to, we’ll arrange for you to stay with us later. It might help you remember. Anyway, get well.’ Then she left, with her back straight and her head high.
Zac stared at the empty doorway and his heart pounded, but he didn’t know why. Although he couldn’t remember her face, there was something about her voice that stirred those deep memories he was only allowed glimpses of.
She was beautiful, and he wondered if he’d been tempted to make a pass at her while working with her. That would be out of character for him, and unlikely given his recent loss, but it would be dreadfully bad manners not to remember if he had.
Zac sighed and a wave of tiredness engulfed him. This was becoming more complicated than he’d bargained for. The anxiety came creeping back, building, rising in his throat and tingling his arms and legs with stress. He couldn’t pinpoint the source.
His head began to throb, so he manoeuvred himself awkwardly down in the bed and closed his eyes.