Bringing Up Baby
Mid-1995 (aka season 8)
"How come I got roped into this?" Doctor Jack Quade asked the attractive blond woman in the car next to him.
"'Cos it's my mate's eighteenth" she replied with all the pertness that her youth could muster. Jack wondered if he'd been as much of a ratbag when he'd been her age.
"Yeah, I get that, why did I have to come?" he asked.
"'Cos mum told you to look after me, She told me she was going to ask you."
"How is driving you to some nothing town in the middle of nowhere to go to a party looking after you?" Jack asked.
"'Cos dad won't let me go on my own. He says there are too many bad influences out there for a girl my age."
Jack resisted the urge to crack up at the thought that someone was actually entrusting him with the care and wellbeing of their teenage daughter – and that's what his sister was, albeit a strong-willed, intelligent seventeen-year-old who was more than capable of looking after herself. "What's so funny?" Rebecca demanded to know when she saw Jack struggling not to laugh. They had only known each other a few weeks now, and he baffled her sometimes. He had the oddest sense of humour.
"Nothing," he managed to choke out. No sense in explaining in minute detail that fathers tended not to like him because of his cavalier attitude towards women, or that that attitude had largely come about because of his unhappy childhood at the hands of his womanising father and embittered, drunk step-mother. He was already well aware that Rebecca didn't like to think of their mother as the woman she had been in her twenties, too inconsiderate to give a damn about the marriages she helped destroy and too selfish to raise a child by herself. Of course, Carla wasn't to know exactly how unhappy her son's childhood would turn out to be by handing him over to his father, but it was still something Rebecca didn't care to think about in any great detail.
It had barely been a week since Carla's funeral, less than two weeks since her death. She had been close to the end when she had tracked her son down. Jack was struggling with his feelings towards his mother, and his own guilt over the way he had behaved in regards to his own once-pending fatherhood didn't help. He wondered if an unwillingness to face up to his responsibilities was a genetic thing – certainly, neither of his parents were prime material for Parent of the Year award. Or at least, his mother hadn't been at the time. Age seemed to have changed her, and from what Jack could gather, she had become a good wife and mother. But nonetheless a mother he had never known, let alone loved, and now he struggled with feelings of remorse for someone he had barely known.
And so here he was, at twenty-five saddled with a half-sister who had always wanted an older brother and now that she had one was not letting him go. In just a few weeks Rebecca had established herself as far more possessive than any other woman in his life, and loathe that he was to admit it, he found that he was quite fond of the girl. It helped that she and her father – Jack's step-father Paul – were an infinite improvement on his step-mother and two half-brothers to his father. Rebecca was keen to cut loose and party following the stress of her mother's death and funeral, and Paul wouldn't let her go alone. Jack escorting her was an acceptable solution, and Jack didn't have the heart to tell her no. Especially since his own social life didn't consist of much. Carla's death had been the least of personal troubles in his life this year. First there had been having to accept that he'd ruined any chance of reconciliation with Terri after getting Charlotte pregnant, and all for nothing when Charlotte had miscarried. Then Terri had left the country, talking Lucy, who he adored, with her. If he believed in God, he would be convinced God was repaying his unwillingness to be involved in Charlotte's pregnancy by first taking his own daughter from him and then the child he adored as if she were his own – or at least his step-daughter. He knew he was bitter because of it. Maybe running amok in a place where no-one knew him would be good for him.
The place where no-one knew him was a small town which serviced a farming community. Being a city boy through and through, Jack struggled to comprehend the sheer vastness of such a community – where area was measured in acres or hundreds of acres where he was used to thinking of them in meters. "It's so cute," he said, a trifle smuggly, when he and Rebecca explored the pub/hotel they were staying at. "It's like something out of Blue Heelers. Where's the old battleaxe sergeant?"
"I suggest you don't let them hear you say that," Rebecca said. "They're kind of sensitive to the country-hick stereotypes."
"Yeah, where did you learn all that?"
"I lived here for a term when I was fourteen. They had this city-country exchange thing going. That's how I know Sarah," she explained. Jack was surprised. His sister didn't strike him as the type to uproot and move to the country, even for just a term. But then, he had plenty of surprises for her. He grinned wryly at that and turned his face so she couldn't see.
"Whatever. I'm hungry. And filthy. Give me half an hour to have a shower and get changed and I'll meet you in whatever they call the lounge in this part of the country." Rebecca gave him a warning look about making such comments. "I want to see if everything they say about the food in country pubs is true."
"Hi, I don't think I've seen you around before."
"You haven't," Jack said to a young woman he figured was about his age. "I got made to come 'cos my sister needed an escort."
There was something in her eyes that made Jack think despite the fact she looked like she had raided the set of McLeod's Daughters for her dress, she was very intelligent and very capable of putting information together. "You must be Rebecca's brother."
Jack raised his eyebrows. "You worked that out from one comment?" he asked, a little impressed.
She laughed at that, and he found herself drawn to her laugh. "Almost everyone here is local – well, local enough that I know them. And I know Rebecca vaguely, my brother's a year younger than her. Sarah's family hosted her a few years ago and Sarah's got half the girls between fifteen and thirty in this town in a twitter 'cos she promised to bring her – how did she say it – hunky surgeon brother with her."
Jack found himself laughing at that. "And here was me thinking she wanted me for my own self. Turns out I was just currency."
"Highly valued currency," the woman drawled. "We don't see a lot of fresh blood here. I think you managed to put my ex in a big sulk just on a rumour."
The way she said it made Jack think the idea of her ex in a sulk appealed to her and he idly wondered what the story there was. "Bad breakup?" he asked. It was phrased as a casual question but carried far more weight than that.
For some reason, she found herself drawn to this man, and she knew it wasn't just because he was a stranger in town for a few days who wasn't likely to blab anything and everything she told him to whoever would listen. There was an intangible quality to him that she recognised in herself, a combination of things – loyalty – after all, what kind of person came to such a town just to escort his sister if he wasn't hugely fond of her – intelligence, loneliness... and an understanding of people and life that came from such loneliness. She found herself telling him, a perfect stranger, about her ex cheating on her, with no less than her best friend, and that she had found out because he had passed on Chlamydia and when she had gone over to see her best friend to see if she had heard anything...
"Ouch," he said when she had finished talking.
"I just can't believe – I mean, of everyone, why her?" Seeing them around together – since Steve had realised there was no way she was taking him back, he had taken to hanging out with Ashley, and doing it as a public kick in the teeth.
"I've been guilty of that," he found himself admitting. She looked at him with sudden distrust. "Not like that, though." And he found himself returning her confidence and telling her of his disastrous one-night stand with Charlotte and the ongoing consequences.
"I'm sorry," she said when he was finished. For the first time since she had found out about their betrayal, she found herself feeling sorry for someone other than herself.
He shrugged. "That's part of why I let Bec drag me out here, I think. I need to get away from a lot of stuff."
She nodded. Needing to get away from stuff was something she understood only too well. She wished she had a city like Sydney to go to and get lost in. "I'm Gabrielle, by the way," she said, suddenly realising that for all their talk about the deep personal losses in their lives, she hadn't even told him who she was.
"Gabrielle," he said. He liked the sound of it. It was pretty. Feminine. The kind of name he would have given his daughter, had Charlotte carried her to term. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"It's an open bar," she explained.
"Fine... then can I get you a drink?"
"Pint of TEDs, please," she said.
He couldn't help but smirk at that. "What, no Four-X?" he couldn't resist asking.
"You keep that and you'll have Four-X all over that expensive shirt of yours."
He returned a few minutes later with two pints and they settled down on one of the available benches. He was surprised to discover how intelligent and informed she was; he'd had this vague idea that country girls were Four-X swilling ignorants who's hobbies consisted on cheering their boyfriends on at rodeos and monster truck rallies and such things. He made Gabrielle laugh when he admitted to that. "Steve was exactly like that, except I never cheered him on. I never got the point of wrecking perfectly good machinery – or being cruel to animals like that."
"You're a vet?"
"Close enough, nurse."
"They have a hospital here?" he asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. He had taken a shine to her, and didn't want to test her patience too much with dumb comments about the general lack of civilization to be found so far from Sydney.
She didn't take offence. She thought it was kind of cute the way he was aware how his comments were coming off. "Yes, we have a hospital," she said. "Not as big as the one you work at, I'm sure, but we have a hospital. Nursing staff, however – I'm kind of 2IC of the whole staff by default."
He clucked his tongue. "That's impressive."
She laughed. "Hardly. It's a nightmare getting people to come here, and I just kind of fell into the position 'cos the head matron needed someone she could rely on." She laughed. "Ashley – that's my best friend, well, my ex-best friend, she and I went to school together and she was spitting chips when she found out matron trusted me and not her." Funny how she could laugh about Ashley when she was with Jack. He had this presence which put her at ease.
An hour or so passed. Jack was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself, far more than he had expected to at an eighteenth in a country town. Gabrielle interested him. He didn't know what it was about her – maybe her complete lack of pretensions, maybe it was just being in a different place that made him more at ease, but he was enjoying himself.
He saw her tense up when he made a comment about being surprised that people generally seemed more well-behaved than the drunken yobbo mob he had expected of a country pub. "Sorry," he said guiltily.
She realised he was apologising for his comment and she waved it away vaguely."No, it's not that. Uh, Steve and Ashley just came in."
"Where?" Jack twisted his body awkwardly to spot the newcomers entering the by-now crowded pub. "She doesn't look too crash hot," he sniffed. "Too obvious."
"Guys seem to like it," she said.
"Not all guys. Here," he said, grabbing her hand.
"Wait, what are you doing?" she asked.
"Dancing with you. I bet he's the jealous type."
"How do you know?"
"Guys like that are." He remembered how his dad couldn't stand to have another guy look at his wife, despite his many mistresses over the years. Well, this Steve guy certainly couldn't lay a claim on her now. A little bit tipsy, Jack took Gabrielle in his arms a little tighter than he needed to. He felt himself slightly flustered and for a moment remembered that the last woman he had held, other than Charlotte in comfort after her miscarriage, had been Terri during their brief reconciliation. Gabrielle was taller than her, at least five-ten in those heels. She was a nice fit in his arms. He liked the way she could rest her head on his shoulder. "You do a lot of physical work," he murmured, his tone clear that it was a compliment. He could feel the muscles in her back and arms as he idly ran his hand down one. He remembered how Terri had always felt so tiny in his arms, how he'd always been a little scared he would hurt her. Strange how that hadn't bothered him at the time but it was such a pleasant difference now.
"Us farmgirls have to haul around stuff slightly heavier than a scalpel," she teased, although it was obvious that Jack was used to hauling around far heavier things too. She could feel the muscles in his chest through his shirt and fought the urge to run her hand down his arm the way he had done to her but lack of boldness stopped her. She sighed a little unhappily. She bet Ashley wouldn't be lacking in such boldness. She bet if Ashley were in Jack's arms right now, she'd be all over him.
"Something wrong?" Jack asked.
"Just a bit down," she said.
"If it makes you feel better, Steve looks like he's ready to kill me," Jack offered.
She tilted her head so she could meet his eyes. "Really?" she asked. Jack nodded and swung her around so she could see for herself. Steve was glowing at them, and Ashley looked ready to vomit in jealousy. "She looks ready to scratch my eyes out," Gabrielle said, feeling a little lightheaded from both the alcohol and knowing that, at least for tonight, she had one over the girl who had caused her so many nights crying herself to sleep. "Steve has such a temper though, I'd watch out if I were you," she said, feeling a little guilty because Jack had volunteered himself for something without knowing what he was getting himself into.
"He looks just about ready to fall over. I'm sure I can handle him. Hey, I'm going to kiss you if you don't mind. I'm not trying to come onto you so don't think I'm up to anything funny."
"Jack, why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Because I've had a good time with you and I saw how my dad's screwing around affected my step-mother. Let me strike a blow on your behalf."
"OK," she said shyly. She had been kissed by men other than Steve in the past, but none who held her so firmly, so confidently like Jack was doing now. And she was sure he had kissed plenty of women in the past, so he had to know what he was doing, right? Even if it was just for show. She tilted her head so she was looking into his eyes. "You have gorgeous eyes," she found herself saying softly, then blushed because it was such an intimate thing to say.
"Thankyou," he replied huskily, and lowered his mouth to kiss her.
He hadn't known what he had expected exactly, only that it wasn't for her lips to be this soft. She tasted like strawberry lipbalm, which was a sight nicer than the chalky taste of lipstick (he didn't care what Terri said, weather you paid five bucks or fifty for it, it still tasted like chalk). It occurred to him she wasn't the type to wear a lot of makeup – it had registered without really registering when he had compared Ashley's overdone, tarty look to Gabrielle's own – and he liked that. There was nothing quite as disappointing as discovering how much a woman had embellished on her appearance the morning after.
Something told him Gabrielle would look just as cute the morning after as she did right now. Her hair more ruffled, perhaps, but just as cute.
He ran his tongue over her lips, savouring the taste of her, even though he was only meant to be doing this for show and he was sure someone like Steve Taylor didn't know the difference between a show kiss and a real kiss. He inhaled, and the smell of soap, shampoo and deodorant hit him. So she wasn't big on perfume, either. What a pleasant change. He felt her lips part slightly in an automatic reaction, wanting him to take it further, and he flicked his tongue into her mouth, searching for her own. She responded eagerly, if somewhat awkwardly – but that only added to her charm. Something told him Gabrielle wasn't very experienced when it came for sex – not for lack of interest but for lack of a partner who knew what he was doing. He remembered Terri's hardness, her aloofness, the way he used to hold her in his arms after sex and will her to stop thinking about him, and something told him Gabrielle would be warm, inviting, the type who gave her entire body and soul to a man – or didn't bother.
She shuddered in his arms and he held her tighter, feeling her knees buckle. He didn't stop the kiss, didn't want to, knew she didn't want him to. "Jack," she whispered huskily when he pulled away ever-so-slightly. He liked the way she said that. Her recent ex was only a few meters away and yet she whispered his name like he was the only man for her.
In one word she smoothed away all his built-up resentments over Terri, all the times he had tried to penetrate her heart, tried to make her think about someone other than Mitch.
And she was five-ten in what weren't even particularly high heels.
He pulled away when she started to tremble harder, scared she might pass out on him. While making a woman swoon from desire would be something to brag about, it wasn't something he cared to explain to a room full of strangers, to whom she was a favourite daughter. "I don't want to pressure you after what you've been through," he whispered in her ear. "But I have a room upstairs if you want to go somewhere more private. We can just talk, if you want. I mean that."
Gabrielle suddenly felt very bold. She had been on a few dates before, some of which had ended in goodnight kisses, but nothing more than that. But something about being with Jack felt right. It wasn't just that they were both hurting. They had a camaraderie and chemistry that she had never shared with anyone, not even Steve. And what did she have to lose? It wasn't like she and Steve were together. "I'd like that," She said.
He pulled away from her so he could take her hand and led her through the crowded main room of the bar to the stairs that led to the hotel section of the pub. She followed him, feeling simultaneously bold and shy. She knew what Jack wanted from her, wanted it herself, but wasn't exactly sure how to go about it. She had only ever been with Steve but something told her that he wasn't the greatest of lovers. All those rumours she had heard – cynical comments that he preferred younger women who didn't know enough to expect much from a lover – all things she had dismissed in the past as vicious gossip but now she wondered if they were true. Certainly, he had never asked anything more of her than to just lie there, and inexperienced as she was, she knew there was more to it than that.
Jack let them into his room then spun her around and kissed her deeply. She responded readily, throwing her arms around his neck. God, but kissing him was so thrilling. "I'm not very good at this," she admitted when he pulled away from her to catch his breath. She liked knowing that he was struggling to keep his breathing under control.
"I'm not asking you to be, sweetheart. Just... be yourself. You don't know how sexy that is." She blushed at that. Certainly, no-one had called her plain, country self sexy before. He took hand and led her over to the bed. "I meant what I said before," he said, his eyes and voice full of sincerity. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with. I know how crap bad sex can leave you feeling."
She was surprised at that. What did guys know about bad sex? She thought it was just in-and-out and the job was done. "I want this," she said. "I'm sure." Surer than she had been of anything else in her life... including dumping Steve.
"OK," he said. He kissed her again, and manoeuvred himself so he was on top of her and lowered her gently onto the bed. "Just do whatever comes naturally," he encouraged her when he could feel her fingers tugging tentatively at the end of his shirt. She brought her hands up inside his shirt, running them along his bare back. He grunted and bucked involuntarily against her. "Sorry," he said.
"No problem." She was grinning. Jack must have been with dozens of women, yet she had him reacting involuntarily to her touch. "Just do whatever comes naturally," she repeated his own advice.
They started making out in earnest, helping each other out of their clothes. She hadn't known undressing someone and being undressed could be such an erotic experience, and by the time they were in their underwear, she was shaking with desire. "Please, Jack," she begged.
He reached over and rummaged through the top dresser drawer. Since the disaster with Charlotte, he always had condoms in every conceivable place – as Rebecca had found out when she had gone rummaging through his glove compartment looking for chewing gum. And there was something even more disconcerting about getting a stranger pregnant during a one-night stand than there was about getting a colleague pregnant.
He got the condom on and positioned himself to enter her. "You ready?" he asked. She nodded emphatically. Of course she was ready. She had been more than ready ten minutes ago. She was straining at the bit to be with him. She felt she would explode if he didn't get on with it.
She entered her slowly, not entirely surprised at how tight she was despite her obvious wetness. He'd always had the opinion that men who felt to cheat on their wives and girlfriends were overcompensating for small penises. But she didn't seem to mind, and later it occurred to him that she was used to sex being awkward. Well, he would prove her otherwise. He began thrusting slowly, getting her used to the feel of him with as much patience as he could muster given how hot for her he was. Soon, he had her crying out in ecstasy, bringing out her passionate side., digging her nails into his back, running kisses over his face and chest, burying her head in his neck when he brought her to orgasm. He climaxed himself soon after.
"What did you just do to me?" she whispered in awe, looking at him like he was a god. Lord, but he had seen that look enough times on women's faces when he had made them come for the first time regardless of how many men had been before them. What was it with men being such selfish lays?
But then, his earliest memories included learning about what selfish lays men could be.
"It was nothing," he panted.
She touched his face gently. "Thankyou," she said. He squirmed. He always hated it when he got thanked for doing something he saw as his job. What, was he supposed to let her just lie there while he did his thing?
"Did you ever sleep with anyone other than Steve?" he asked.
"No, why?"
"Just curious." No bloody wonder then. "How old were you?" he asked. He had already noticed that he was a good ten years older than her. He put her at about twenty-three or –four, and the age discrepancy between someone in their mid-twenties and someone in their mid-thirties was bad enough, but if she had been much younger...
"Sixteen," she announced as casually as if she'd said vanilla was her favourite ice-cream flavour. He was forced to assume she had a really twisted sense of humour.
"Gabrielle, that's not funny."
"I wasn't being funny."
He stared at her and was forced to accept that she was telling the truth. "And let me guess, it was right on your birthday?" he asked.
"Yeah, why?"
Good Lord, was she really lying there and admitting her boyfriend – who would have been well in his twenties at the time – had seduced her on her sixteenth birthday? He knew far worse sexual predators existed, but still – "'Cos a few days earlier and it would have been a felony by the name of statutory rape," he said. "What did your dad say about it?"
"He didn't say anything. He knows how stubborn I can be. I would just have run away from home."
"You sound like my sister."
She poked her tongue out. "Great compliment to pay a girl." He had to laugh at that. There was something so forthright about her that he really liked.
"I want to see more of you," he blurted out. "I'll be here a few days and I'd like to spend them with you." God knew, it had to be better than sitting in his hotel room and twiddling his thumbs while Rebecca saw her various friends. Well, at least Rebecca couldn't have a go at him that he hadn't found something to do.
"I'd like that too," she said.
Jack was kissing her face, her neck, her breasts, running his hands over her body, slowly, teasingly moving downwards until his fingers were stroking the most sensitive parts of her body, she responded willingly, writhing against his touch, murmuring softly, wantonly. She knew without being told that he was hard and as ready as she was. "Jack!" she cried out. She spread her legs to allow him easier access and willed him to enter her. "Jack!" she cried again...
"Jack!" she admonished him when she bolted awake at his first hard thrust. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asked with a grin. He had pushed up the shirt he had loaned her to sleep in so her breasts were exposed. Besides the material bunched up around her elbows, she was completely naked. Above her, Jack was pumping her hard, his fingers caressing her body, particularly between her legs. She arched her back and groaned.
"Damnit, you're incorrigible," she complained.
"You want me to stop?" he teased.
"Don't you dare."
Afterwards, he spooned her and she lay in his arms, already tired by the day's exertions. Funny, she was a farm girl, used to hauling around stuff well above the quarter-body-weight that was recommended. He ran soft kisses across her face in a way that made her think she could soon become addicted. He was so unapologetically masculine in his sexuality, but there was also something soft and gentle about him that you rarely saw, even in women.
"I hope I didn't do the wrong thing by you before," he said suddenly.
"When?"
"When I – you know. I was watching you sleep and you looked so sexy that I couldn't help myself. I should have waited until you were awake."
She had to laugh at that. All the times Steve had plied her with alcohol to get what he wanted, and Jack was apologising over that? "I wanted it and you knew I wanted it, I think that's all that matters," she said.
She knew what to say to make him feel better. He kissed her cheek. "Thankyou," he said. Now it was her turn to wonder why he was thanking her for some nothing little thing that any decent human being would overlook. She was starting to think that part of what had attracted her and Jack to one another was that they had both been deeply hurt by people who had acted less-than-human towards them, and they both had a vulnerability because of it.
Jack reluctantly roused her when she began to fall asleep again. "I told Bec I'd meet her for breakfast, and I have some explaining to do."
"Still thinks her big brother is a virgin, huh?" she teased.
Rebecca had him on a pedestal that would crumble soon enough. "Something like that," he admitted ruefully. He was reluctant to let that pedestal crumble too soon. "Look, it's only fair since I'm not going to be able to drive her around that I give her my car – so I thought maybe you could go home and get some stuff and pick me up in say, an hour?"
She laughed at that. "Jack, my house is half an hour's drive from here. I need at least an hour and a half, preferably two. And... you really trust your sister with your car?" Steve wasn't the first guy she had met who wouldn't trust a woman, let alone a younger woman on her P-plates, with his car. Especially unsupervised.
"It's a rented car. It only concerned me 'cos it's in my name and I'm up for a bundle if she does something to it and they find out I handed the keys to an eighteen-year-old P-plater. So long as they don't know, they'll think it was me."
"Jack! That's fraud."
"To spend time with you, my dear, I'll happily commit fraud."
She grinned. Despite the unlikelihood of Jack ever committing fraud for her, she liked the idea that he would. "Give me two hours," she said.
"Is that two hours from now or when I decide to stop cuddling you?" he asked.
"Uh... that would be from when you stop cuddling me," she said. He really had no idea how far you had to travel to get between anywhere in this part of the country, which was odd, given how far he'd had to drive just to get here. Maybe he thought it was like driving between Sydney and Melbourne and once you got between the two places, you were in the middle of a metropolis. But it was nice that he wanted to keep cuddling her.
"I saw you leaving the party with a certain blond last night," Rebecca teased over breakfast.
"You told me to make friends."
"True. But I hear her boyfriend has a fierce temper."
"Her ex-boyfriend is about ten kilos overweight and has the reflexes of a drunk." Jack had always had a knack of reading people – especially when it came to their health – and besides, without realising it, even before he had kissed Gabrielle, he had been sizing up the competition and he knew he was healthier and stronger than Steve Taylor. "I'm sure I can handle him."
"You sure? This is a small town, Jack. I've heard about Steve and Gabrielle, too. I heard people saying he treated her like crap and deserved to have it flung it his face when she disappeared upstairs with a sophisticated stranger." The wonderful thing about not looking at all like your half-brother except for the chameleon eyes was that no-one realised who they were talking to when they gossiped about the stranger who had swept Gabrielle Jaeger off her feet right in front of Steve Taylor. "But he has a lot of mates – or, rather, cronies. You're not going to makes friends this way."
"I don't care about making friends. I care about Gabby."
She knew it was just a reflex of the tongue, but she was still surprised to hear him say it. She shrugged. It hadn't taken her long to learn that her brother had the same stubborn streak that she had, and it was best to choose her battles. She had won a major victory getting him to come here. Better that she leave him be to do his own thing. If he got his nose broken over it... well, she could always say 'I told you so' later.
Shortly after, Jack was killing time taking a walk down what passed for a main street while he waited for Gabrielle to get back when a ute barrelled down the street and deliberately ploughed into a glut of mud on the street next to him, spraying Jack's two-hundred-dollar shirt and hundred-dollar jeans in mud. An empty can of VB flew out of the receding car and clattered at Jack's feet. Despite his wrecked clothes, he had to grin at that. A full can would have done more damage, had it hit him, but that would have meant sacrificing a tinny. "That's unpatriotic for a New South Welshmen!" he yelled after the car, if only to feel superior in himself that the term for someone from Wales was 'Welsh'; people tended to get that in context of the original Wales, but not New South Wales. He picked the can up and tossed it in the bin. The remaining drops of Victoria Bitter smelled bad, especially since the tinny had been opened a while ago and the drops left to go rancid. "VB," he muttered under his breath. "Yuk."
Gabrielle was waiting in him when he got back to the pub. "One of your ex's cronies decided to ruin a perfectly good three-hundred dollars," he explained. He mistook her quizzical look for wondering which one of them it was, as opposed to who would spend three hundred dollars on what could be bought for less than a hundred. "I'll let you in, just let me take a shower and I'm all yours."
Once Jack had gone to take a shower in the ensuite, Gabrielle flicked through the collection of books he had left. Gone With the Wind. Vanity Fair A collection of Jane Austen. She wondered how much of his taste in literature featuring strong women came from his sister and how much came from something else.
There was a knock of the door. She figured it was Cherie Adams, the publican. Cherie had spoken to her this morning, when she had left, concerned that she didn't know what she was getting herself into. She had assured Cherie that she just wanted a bit of fun and Cherie had nodded understandingly. Manning the pub of a small country town for over twenty years, she had plenty of education when it came to the entitled mindsets of men in the area when it came to sex.
She opened the door to be met by Steve. Immediately, the stench of Scotch assailed her. She remembered how Jack's kisses had tasted like beer, but somehow she hadn't minded. But with Steve here, Drunk, even though it was only eleven in the morning – was he still drunk from last night or had he not stopped drinking? "Go away," she said.
Cherie had never thought to put chain-locks on the door, and Gabrielle's weight and strength was no match for Steve's, even drunk. "You slut," he hissed at her.
Even in her precarious situation, that was too much for her. "Me? You're the one who slept with my best friend! Let me ask you something, Steve – did she give you Chlamydia or were you screwing someone else as well?" She still felt dirty just thinking about it. There was something about getting an STD that compounded the humiliation of discovering your partner had been unfaithful several times over.
"That wasn't my fault. I was drunk."
"Like you're drunk at eleven in the morning? Get out, Steve. You're not welcome."
Enraged to be reminded that this was the room of his girlfriend's lover, he charged into the room. He hadn't liked Jack Quade from the time the rumours started that some friend of Sarah's was bringing her older brother, a good-looking surgeon. Steve bet Mr. Pretty-Boy-Surgeon had never extracted someone from a malfunctioned tractor, or had to work with anything but the best equipment while waiting for Flying Doctors to arrive. And yet every girl in town was in a dizzy over it, and jealous that Plain Jane Gabrielle Jaeger had nabbed him. Even Ashley, who had quickly staked her claim as Steve's new girlfriend, had been obviously put out. Steve wasn't sure what burned him more, than Gabrielle had moved on so quickly or that Ashley had been obviously put out, considering that Gabrielle had landed a better catch than her.
He had been furious when he'd seen Gabrielle go upstairs with him. He had spent the night drinking with his mates, and had now been encouraged to go and confront the guy. To his increased fury, she was still there, installed in his room like some – like some mistress. Steve's lip curled up in disgust. Mistress sounded good. "Whore!" he yelled at her.
Gabrielle stared at Steve, for the first time seeing the drunk, selfish loser that he was. She thought about Jack's selflessness as a lover, the way he'd felt bad when he'd taken her when she wasn't fully awake, and realised there was much better in life than an aging jerk who thought nothing of plying a sixteen-year-old with alcohol and deflowering her in the back of a ute. "I'd rather be his whore then your girlfriend," she shot back, and suddenly she realised she had a weapon in her hand which would hurt him as much as he had hurt her. "He's a far better lover... and his dick is much bigger."
Steve glared at her hatefully. This wasn't the sweet, tactfully-spoken Gabrielle that he knew, and he was too out of it and too generally self-absorbed to realise her bitterness stemmed from how deeply he had hurt her, firstly by cheating on her, then by flaunting his relationship with Ashley in front of her. All he could feel was the rage at being insulted so – and because of some stuck-up city snob had swooped in on his turf.
He struck her with as much force as he could manage in his state, and she stumbled back. He lunged after her, pinning her to the bed. He shoved his hand over her mouth and used his free hand to pull at her shirt, tearing it down the middle. She released a muffled scream through his hand and was assaulted by the smell of alcohol coming off his body in waves. It made her want to throw up. "Steve!" she screamed at him. His legs were on either side of her now, his weight pinning her to the bed. Terror hit her like a ton of bricks when Steve wedged the hand that had just torn her shirt between her legs in the same crass way he used to do. This couldn't be happening. He had always been a bit rough, a bit demanding, but never like this.
The running water from the shower had muffled the sounds of the struggle outside the bathroom, so it wasn't until Jack turned off the tap that his ears were alerted to something going on. Without bothering the dry himself properly, he threw on his dressing gown and bolted out of the bathroom to be greeted by the image of Gabrielle pinned to the bed by her ex-boyfriend, who had torn her shirt off and was working on her jeans. Revulsion flooded him and for a second, he was taken back to a time more than ten years ago. Red-hot fury engulfed him and he threw himself at Steve, yanking the older man off Gabrielle and smashing his fist into his nose. There was a distinct cracking sounds that all of them, as medical professionals, knew to be that of a bone breaking. With a scream, Steve tottered backwards and miraculously managed to stay standing. Jack followed up his first punch with one to his left eye. That made Steve fall to the floor.
Jack stepped towards him and was ready to join Steve on the floor for an all-out brawl, confident that he was far stronger and far more sober and could pummel Steve if he wanted to. "Jack!" Gabrielle screamed at him. "Jack, don't."
It was enough to bring him out of the mist of red-hot rage that engulfed him and back to her. Steve scrambled to his feet. His nose was bleeding and on an angle that noses weren't meant to be on, and his eye was already swelling. "You son-of-a-bitch!" Steve screamed at him. "I'll get you for this. I'll –" There was a look in Jack's eyes that, even drunk and in a lot of pain despite being drunk, Steve recognised. It was the look of a man who was willing to kill and think nothing more of it than stepping on a cockroach. He started backing towards the door. "This isn't the last of it," he threatened hollowly. They all knew that it was.
Jack locked the door after Steve had staggered out (hoping that the older man might do everyone a favour and fall down the stairs and break his neck. Rage still burned in him. Anyone who did that to someone smaller than them was nothing more than a cockroach, a parasite that spread disease everywhere it went. The only thing that stopped him from charging after Steve and finishing the job was feeling, rather than hearing, Gabrielle's choking sobs. He rushed over to the bed and brought her into his arms, cradling her more like a child than a lover. "It's OK," he said soothingly. "It's over. I'm here. Cry if you want to." He struggled to keep his emotions in check as memories that he tried so hard to keep out of his mind pushed themselves to the forefront.
"Oh, God, if you hadn't been here –"
Jack was well aware that if he hadn't been here, Steve probably would have forced himself on Gabrielle in some kind of drunk, jealous rage. "Well, I was." He wondered how far Steve might have gotten had he stayed longer in the shower. The thought made him sick, and if that was how he felt, he could only imagine how Gabrielle was feeling right now. But then, that was part of why he was so upset. He could imagine what she was feeling right now.
"Oh, God, I think I'm going to –" Calmly, Jack handed her the waste-paper basket next to his bed and didn't stop holding her while she threw up. "Sorry," she said weakly when she was finished.
"It's OK. Why don't you have a shower."
"I'll clean the bin first."
"You'll do no such thing. Go have a shower. Take as long as you like." His tone was simultaneously gentle and commanding, and Gabrielle obediently headed for the adjoining bathroom.
A few minutes after she got in the shower, there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Jack asked, his guard immediately up. While he didn't think Steve was dumb enough to come back, let alone had the strength to break down the door, plenty of experience in the ED had taught him that dunks weren't the brightest crayons in the box.
"It's Cherie," the publican called back. Jack let her in. "I just passed Steve Taylor. He threatened to sue both of us," she said wryly. Cherie had enough experience with Steve Taylor and men like him to know that it was always everyone else's fault in their own minds and almost always their fault in reality. "What happened?"
Jack let her in and explained. The colour drained from her face. "I knew he took it badly – he's one of those guys who thinks it's OK to play around openly but won't tolerate the slightest kind of behaviour from their girlfriends and wives –" Jack nodded sagely at that, he had seen plenty of that attitude growing up. "But I didn't think he'd go that far. I thought he was too cowardly."
"I'll kill him if I see him again," Jack said in a quiet, dangerous voice.
Cherie didn't doubt it. Nor did she doubt that Steve, drunk though he was half the time, knew it. "I know it's cold comfort to you and especially her, but he's gone too far now. His behaviour was tolerated because it's hard to find a decent doctor to work in these parts – and he is a good doctor, I won't deny that, just a lousy human being – but he's going to find that it doesn't matter how many people he treats, he won't be invited anywhere but with his cronies."
"I ran into one of them," Jack said dryly.
"I hope this hasn't given you the wrong impression of country life, Jack," she said. "There is a different attitude about women, well, that some people hold anyway, but for the most part people are loyal and kind and it's a close-knit community that you don't find in cities." He had to smile wryly at that. He was well aware that there were men out there who held the most antiquated and hypocritical ideas about women and sex, and not just in country towns, but there certainly wasn't that close-knit community in Sydney that Cherie was talking about. He was starting to think he'd been full of himself to assume that Sydney was far superior to anything a town like this has to offer. "Is there anything I can do?" Cherie asked.
"Um... if you could get rid of this?" Jack asked hopefully, gesturing to the bin. "I don't want to go into the bathroom and invade her personal space when she's like this. And maybe not have lunch for about half an hour. I don't think she has much in her stomach right now."
She nodded. He had an awareness of what she needed right now that was pleasantly surprising. "Of course." She'd give it an hour, though. She doubted Gabrielle would be out of the shower in half an hour, let alone ready to eat. She retrieved the bin from Jack and left.
About fifteen minutes later (Jack was surprised the hot water lasted that long) Gabrielle emerged. He related what Cherie had said as he eased her into his arms. "She's a good woman," Gabrielle commented. "Strong, smart." Jack thought she would have to be, to run the most popular pub in a country town. "She's faced down more than her fair share of men twice her size," Gabrielle agreed. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Despite his obvious strength, she felt safe with him. She found herself shaking again and was grateful to have his arms around her. "I can't stop shaking," she admitted, feeling ashamed of her weakness.
"It's natural." He felt her tears seep through his shirt on his skin and was full of rage towards the world that people thought it was OK to do things like this. "I've got you." He wished he could do more than just hold her, although it seemed to be doing her good.
Eventually she stopped crying and shaking and they went down to lunch. He outdid himself making her smile and laugh and feel like a human being so she was actually up to taking him on a nickel-and-dime tour of the small town when they had finished eating. He drew them into their own little world so that for a little while, it was easy to believe that they were just another couple enjoying the day out. It wasn't just that he had gone out of his way to make her feel safe and loved; the truth was, even though they had known each other less than a day, they had a definite connection. If he had met her in Sydney and their first day had turned out like this, he would be parking himself outside her door.
But this wasn't Sydney. This was half a day's drive from Sydney.
"Why don't you come back with me?" he found himself suggesting in bed together at the end of the day. He couldn't bring himself to come onto her, but there was something about cuddling up to her that was, in its own way, better than sex. He had never felt like he wanted to protect someone before. And it wasn't just because of what had happened with Steve, either. It was because he wanted her to be his girl and he couldn't remember the last time he had wanted that. Or at least the last time he had wanted that and he sensed that his feelings were returned.
"What?" she asked groggily. Jack asking her to go back to Sydney with him seemed so improbable that she figured he must have said something else, or meant it in a different way.
"Come back to Sydney with me. They always need nurses, especially nurses of your experience. It's an amazing city, you'd love it."
"Jack, I don't want to go to Sydney."
"Why not?" he asked, a little petulant despite himself. He had been thinking about it as he drifted off to sleep, and the idea had struck him so suddenly and obviously that it had jolted him out of it. She deserved more than a town like this, and could go so much further in Sydney. And most importantly, they could still see each other.
"Because I like it here. My family is here. My life is here."
"Including a boyfriend who slept with your best friend, gave you a STD and, oh yeah, tried to rape you."
It was way out of line and touched a raw nerve. "Because Sydney is completely absent of sexual predators," she said sarcastically.
"Sorry," he mumbled. She had hit a nerve of his own without realising it.
She turned to face him. "Jack, I'm not rejecting you. I like you, OK? But I agreed to this because I knew it wouldn't last. I like you but I'm not ready for another relationship."
The simple truth of it sunk to the core of Jack's soul. He knew all too well what it was like to be involved with someone who wasn't ready for another relationship. "Fine," he said sullenly. It wasn't fair that he found someone he totally clicked with and he had to walk away from it.
She stroked his face. "Please don't be like that," she pleaded. "We don't have much time. Do you really want to waste it being angry over something that wouldn't work anyway?"
He nodded. A basic sense of honesty within himself knew that he couldn't like her because of her insight and honesty and at the same time resent her for it. Especially when, as she had said, they didn't have much time.
Time was passed far too quickly for both Jack and Gabrielle's liking. On the day they were supposed to leave – actually the day after, since as the person who's name the rental car was in, Jack had insisted they stay another day – he took his time saying goodbye to her. "You have my home phone and mobile and email," he said. "I want you to call if anything happens, if you need a mate, if you're ever in Sydney, OK?" She nodded.
"Thanks for everything," she said. "You're the greatest guy I've met, other than my dad and brother." She was sorry that she hadn't been able to introduce Jack to them, but neither was the kind of guy who would accept Jack as someone who had come into Gabrielle's life as nothing more than a fling – especially so soon after her break-up. Her father despised Steve for what he had done, but that didn't mean he approved of his baby girl – and Gabrielle would always be a baby in his eyes – shaking up with some stranger blown in from Sydney for a few days.
He didn't want to let her go. "Promise you'll call," he said huskily. He didn't entirely trust Steve Taylor to stay away and he wanted her to feel like she had an ally, no matter what, no matter where he might be.
"I promise."
They kissed goodbye, then kissed some more. In passenger's seat, Rebecca leaned over and honked the horn, bursting them out of their reverie. "Jack!" she yelled, at eighteen, not the most sensitive of people to another person's need to say goodbye. "Sometime this century would be nice!"
Jack reluctantly pulled away. "I'll see you," he said softly, the three words promising so much despite how much they could realistically deliver.
"You too," she said.
He got in the car and started the engine. He was glad to be getting back to Sydney, knew he didn't belong here, but having to leave Gabrielle wrenched his heart more than he would have thought possible. As well as he could without endangering himself, Rebecca or anyone within the car's projectory, he kept an eye on her, first face-to-face and then in the rear-view mirror until he couldn't see her anymore.