Guardian Nurse by Joyce Dingwell

thought that, too, but I’ve had a ring from Doctor Muir, and he seemed to think we can get around to that very soon.’
    ‘That’s wonderful ! ’
    ‘ I hope it will be,’ Burn said gravely.
    They reached the Mitchisons’ mid-afte rn oon, had tea, then on Ben Mitchison’s suggestion towed a mount behind the jeep so that Burn could take Jason a lit tl e closer to the crop than four wheels might allow.
    ‘Burner’s a real rice baby,’ Mitchison said, ‘thinks nothing of wet feet and has never been known to tramp on a plant.’
    They passed Ben Mitchison’s Dethridge meter measuring out his supply of irrigation water, then all at once were in rice territory. Frances called aloud in delight, and even Jason, though he added, Jason-like, that he still didn’t like the pudding, was interested.
    The grass-like plants were now almost to waist-deep growth. Some of the heads were actually heavy with grain.
    Burn let Jason feel the heads, marvel at them, and the little boy said, ‘Perhaps I might like it next time—that pudding, I mean,’ which was reward enough, smiled Burn ’s eyes at Frances.
    Encouraged, Burn stopped the jeep and came round to lift Jason out to put him on Bunter and lead him right into the crop. Frances, watching a little nervously, was relieved to see that Jason was quite eager to go.
    Perhaps it was that eagerness that did the damage, perhaps it was the jerk forward that the boy made to Burn that set the jeep slanting slightly on the wet soft earth. No harm was done, Burn West was too careful a driver not to pick a standing position that was not absolutely safe. The car simply slanted over and stopped there, but the sudden movement made Burn miss Jason and the next moment the boy was sprawled on the ground.
    He didn’t cry out and he didn’t seem in pain, but his injured leg was spread out quite grotesquely. With a little cry Frances went to climb out, but Burn called sharply, ‘Stop there, the movement might send the jeep right over, and I don’t want to move Jason until I’m sure it’s being done in the right way.’
    Frances stopped where she was, then Burn called, ‘ You can get out now, but do it carefully. I think the jeep ’ s secure enough, but I don’t want to take an y risk.’
    Frances fairly crawled from her side of the jeep and came round to where Burn knelt by the little boy.
    ‘ He ’ s all right, I think, but I have to be very sure how I load him back again.’
    ‘ I can help,’ she offered.
    ‘I’ll need more than your help, France, I’ll need a brace of men. The sonno will have to be scooped up as he is, not as we would like to place him. Arrange his leg wrongly and you could be back to taws. Crack that plaster and you could crack his leg for another period.’
    ‘Then I’ll drive back to the homestead for help.’
    ‘No.’ Burn West shook his head. ‘The ground is wet. Probably it’s firm, but I wouldn’t take that risk. You might start off, find yourself slipping, then even land on the boy ... because I don’t intend moving him, not without aid. No, France, get back to Mitchison and tell him to bring the track, some sort of stretcher or mattress and a couple of his men.’
    ‘ But — but how?’ It was a fair distance back to the house. She didn’t mind the walk, but it would take a lot of time, and Jason...
    ‘The horse, of course,’ Burn flung. He was kneeling now by Jason, tenting him, sheltering him. If the jeep did move, he would take the impact first.
    Frances stared at him incredulously. Then, as he didn’t turn, didn’t look up, just took it for granted that she had heard and was going to comply, she moved off. It came bitterly to her how only yesterday she had retorted to this man how she was not entirely a townie. Now she would have refuted that eagerly . For never in her life, though she knew that to a countryman like Burn West this would sound unbelievable, had she ridden a horse.
    She walked warily to where Bunter waited, glad it was