The Midwife's New-Found... Page 4

  Misty was there too, now, and she would keep Montana safe as well.

  * * *

  Half an hour later Misty could feel the healing from the sense of family and love around her and she began to relax. She'd done the right thing to choose Lyrebird Lake over a man who had only briefly touched her life. No matter that the touch had been so iridescent.

  The three of them were seated on the veranda of Montana and Andy's newly built home and the outdoor sail overhead shaded them from the fierce Queensland sun. The breeze from the lake stirred the air with tantalising wisps of coolness.

  Queensland weather was different from that of New South Wales but she would get used to the heat. It was very different from the ocean and Ben.

  Misty glanced inwards to the open-plan house—a sprawling building of light and polished floors and large windows all shaded by verandas. It made her think of another house with polished floorboards and a different kind of heat. 'Your house is beautiful and yet it's very much a home.'

  Andy raised his eyebrows indulgently. 'Wait until Dawn wakes up. Our daughter can demolish it in minutes.'

  'Imagine the chaos when her new brother or sister arrives.' Misty glanced at Montana's rounded stomach. 'You'll have twice as much mess to clean up.'

  She watched her two favourite people in the world exchange loving glances and she stifled a sigh. If only it were that easy.

  'So tell me who broke your heart and I'll go and wring his neck.' The concerned look on Andy's face brought a hiccough of laughter and a sting of tears to her eyes.

  So it showed. Andy had always looked after her, always cared and worried that his little sister was OK, especially after their mother had died.

  Misty had been able to read his mind for years and he worried she avoided relationships in case her gift spoilt them. She'd wondered if being married would change that care, but obviously not.

  She swallowed away the prickle of tears in her throat. 'What makes you think my heart is broken? And why does it have to be a man?'

  Andy blinked and she laughed with only a trace of bitterness at his confusion.

  'Yes, it's a man,' she said before he bogged down in some improbable scenario.

  'Well, you waited all this time to find someone. Why couldn't you have waited a little bit longer? Found someone at the lake and settled here for good?'

  Fat chance, the way she felt at the moment, Misty thought. 'I'm afraid it's too late for that now.'

  'Is there a possibility for it all to work out?' Montana's quiet voice questioned, and Misty looked at her friend before she shook her head.

  'All what?'

  Misty compared the understated wealth of the beach house to her modest financial security, Ben's world-weary experience compared to her girlish optimism, her passion for birth and Ben's revulsion for obstetrics, and finally the fact that she hadn't even told him her surname. She had no doubt they would remain ships in the night.

  'No chance.' She shook her head and accepted the finality with a new stab of loss. 'If he'd been less a man of the world—if we'd had a little more in common—he would have been perfect. It was also far too intense for stability, just a fantasy, and I was kidding myself.'

  She felt again the touch of Ben's hand on hers. 'It was so strange, though. The moment when we met, I felt a shift, as if I'd suddenly realised I'd only ever been half of myself. It's all a bit raw and of course I will survive.' She lifted her chin. 'But with him I felt I could achieve anything.' She sighed. 'In a strange way he made me feel like a queen.'

  'Of course you can still achieve anything! And you've always been a queen to me,' Andy said gruffly.

  Montana reached across and squeezed Misty's hand. 'That's why I love your brother.'

  She smiled at her husband and then back at Misty. 'With this man, though, the attraction between you both must have been potent to affect you as it did.'

  Misty met her eyes. 'I left Sydney normal and arrived up here totally different. He's changed me in just a few hours and I'll probably never see him again. The impact he's had on me is ridiculous.'

  Andy rubbed the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. 'Let me get this straight. On the way here you had a one-night stand with some bloke you've never met before.' Andy shook his head. 'And he didn't make arrangements to see you again?'

  Misty sighed. 'It wasn't quite that simple and I didn't have a one-night stand.'

  'At least that's good news,' Andy growled.

  'Andy, love.' Montana frowned her husband down. 'Let Misty talk.'

  Misty blew a kiss to her brother for his championing but all the wishing in the world didn't change the facts. 'We met under exceptional circumstances. We never had the chance to find out where it could go.'

  'Why not?' Montana asked quietly. It was unlike Montana to persist. It was as if she understood that Misty needed to come to grips with what had happened, and Misty appreciated that. In some masochistic way it helped to confirm it had been nothing more than a dream.

  'There was no future in it. We don't know anything about each other. Our stars collided for a day and that was all.'

  'It must have been some collision,' Andy said.

  She looked at Montana. 'He was knocked off the rocks into the sea, and when I arrived he'd almost drowned.' She shuddered. 'I pulled him to shore and he wasn't breathing.'

  Andy sat up straight, appalled Misty had been in danger. 'You risked your life for this guy?'

  'Always so fearless, Misty. But that must have been horrible.' Montana understood and her calm voice soothed her husband into silence.

  She too easily recalled Ben's lifeless body on the beach and glanced at Andy. 'I had my surfboard. But even now I can still see him.' Misty shivered at the memory.

  Andy looked as though he fancied the idea of Ben's lifeless body and she swallowed a giggle. As a big brother he was sweet, but he didn't understand. If only life were that simple.

  'All I know about him is that he wrote a textbook.' She avoided Ben's profession in case Andy knew him.

  Andy nodded his head. 'Of course', he said sarcastically. 'He's self-indulgent and can't swim. Sounds like a hero to me. And he preys on good Samaritans.'

  Misty laughed at her brother's simplistic image. 'He'd have swum if he hadn't been knocked out on the rocks after he saved a bird.'

  Andy crossed his arms. 'Then he's clumsy.'

  The two friends looked at each other and both ignored Andy's final outburst. 'He's met you now,' Montana said. 'He'll find you again.'

  'Thank you, Montana,' Misty said as she looked at a scowling Andy. 'It's not going to happen, but thank you.'

  * * *

  Ben climbed the rocks under the lighthouse but all he could think of was a month ago and the sweet taste of Misty. A huge change from thinking about the mess his life was.

  She was lucky she hadn't stayed. He ran his hand over the uneven surface of the cliff as if he'd find the answer there.

  He just wanted to go find her at that lake she'd spoken about so passionately. The fact that he didn't know where she was at that moment was of no concern. He had enough clues and he'd find her if he decided to.

  But would it be fair to her? He picked up a loose stone and spun it out over the waves towards the sunrise. Of course it wasn't.

  Even walking in his favourite place in the world, as he tried to move on and forget her, every emerald-green rock pool still reminded him of her. Every swirl of seaweed splayed and dipped like Misty's passion-red hair in the water.

  Maybe he'd imagined the connection between them? Or maybe the peace he'd glimpsed with her could help him? The sweetness of her scent and the feel of her softness against him was certainly an inducement.

  How could two people who barely knew each other be spiralled into the almost mystical connection of that afternoon and not end up together again?

  Because she didn't need his baggage and he didn't believe in fairy-tales. He was a grown man, not a callow youth. Ben watched the water slap against the barn
acles on the breakwall and considered knocking his stupid head against them.

  Forget her. She'd stunned him with the generosity of her open heart and he'd been fighting against his instincts ever since.

  But a month ago his life had almost ended and he'd spent the last four weeks sorting the flotsam of disasters that had been drowning him even more than the sea had on the day Misty had appeared.

  Yes, his daughter still needed him now, more than ever. Would Misty understand that? Even when Tammy wasn't really his daughter? But watching from a distance hadn't kept Tammy safe.

  It was time he was the real father he wanted to be and take a stand. He'd wanted Tammy to come and live with him in the past, at least until she finished school and he could keep her safe. He'd even offered to move somewhere, anywhere, so she could start again fresh and innocent of the worry her mother had heaped on her young shoulders before she'd died.

  But Tammy had elected to stay at boarding school and now she was pregnant and had told no one until she had been almost eight months. Lord knows how she had managed that but the school knew now and Tammy had to leave in her second-last year, just like her mother had.

  But Tammy was his priority now and with school no longer an option she'd have to come to him, because her vague and flighty grandmother had proved unreliable. And he'd make sure she saw that. She needed to get away from the crowd she'd managed to become a part of without his or the school's knowledge.

  With that crowd was no way for a young girl to live her life especially in her condition, not knowing which was the father of his grandchild he couldn't strangle them all, and it was time to put his foot down. He and his 'daughter' would move somewhere safe. Away. So why not to Lyrebird Lake?

  Misty didn't deserve the confused and bitter daughter of Bridget's but maybe she could help. Maybe she could help both of them. And he had Misty's word that it was the best place for any woman to have her baby.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FROM the first the tiny Lyrebird Lake Hospital and its midwifery unit welcomed Misty with open arms.

  That warm inclusion helped salve Misty's pain after the extraordinary effect Ben had had on her and the emptiness she hadn't expected to be left with.

  To avoid a gap in service when Montana went on maternity leave, Misty took over as much as she could so Montana could finish up without feeling she'd deserted her clients.

  Unlike a maternity unit in a larger hospital, Lyrebird Lake ran on a caseload of antenatal women with uncomplicated pregnancies. Each midwife established a close rapport with her own clients and both sides were reluctant to change.

  The town had accepted this new service with heartfelt relief from the previous only option of a hospital stay eighty kilometres away from their families and the fragmented shared care they'd received there.

  For the midwives there was a rewarding completion in the circle of care not offered by the larger hospitals.

  Of course, any complicated pregnancies or births were assessed by Andy or a locum doctor and transferred to the larger hospital at the base by ambulance for obstetric intervention.

  Even then, once stable, the woman and her baby could return to the lake prior to discharge home if she wanted to, and connect up with her midwife again.

  But yesterday's news had hung over her all night. The needs of the town had grown considerably with the local coal mine now in full operation, and the workload continued to increase. Ben was coming to the lake—today. The mine's new housing estate had opened on the shores of the lake, ensuring the midwifery unit functioned more days than it was closed.

  Babies arrived calmly and naturally and then, tucked in their mother's or father's arms, sailed serenely out the door to go home.

  Montana, who'd set up the unit with Andy's blessing and support, became one of Misty's own caseload clients on her last day.

  Sara, one of the other two midwives, handed over her care to Misty, although she would remain the back-up carer.

  'So Montana is due in four weeks.' Sara grinned at her former client. 'She's very easy to get along with. It's her second baby and she has great resource skills for birth.' Sara ceremoniously handed over the file.

  Misty laughed. 'I did hear she can be a little reluctant to come in when she starts labour, though.' Misty glanced at Montana, who rolled her eyes.

  'Very funny, you two,' Montana said. 'I assure you I'm coming in. Andy has the car at the ready and never lets me out of his sight.'

  In fact, Andy had come to take Montana home on her last day and he gathered her close to him with a soft smile.

  'Ready to finally take it easy,' he said as he took Montana's bag from her to carry.

  'So you have your wife home for a while,' Misty teased her brother and he grinned back.

  'Such a hardship.'

  'You'll really hate being called out now.'

  'I've got a locum,' Andy said smugly, and Montana and Misty both looked at him in surprise.

  That had been sudden, Misty thought, and her hand fell to her stomach, which suddenly clutched with nerves.

  'This guy is actually an obstetrician—rang out of the blue and offered to start today. The paperwork's through and clear.' Andy was smug.

  'That seems a bit eager,' Montana commented, but she couldn't hide her delight that her husband would have a lessened workload.

  'Does this eager beaver have a name?' Misty tried to keep her voice nonchalant but the wobble was there for her to hear at least.

  'Ben Moore. A widower. He's been out of obstetrics for a couple of years but we don't do obstetrics here anyway, do we, girls?' Andy teased them back.

  It was good to see her brother so happy, Misty told herself as a flutter of skittish seagulls, reminiscent of another day, seemed to have landed in her stomach.

  Of course Andy had jumped at the chance to be able to spend more time with Montana at the end of her pregnancy. It was crazy to feel trapped and nervous when the news was so good for her brother but…

  Ben was coming to the lake. It had been a month and of course she was over that silly thing she had for him.

  Luckily, as it was her first morning in charge she could keep busy on the phone with the pregnant women on her caseload, and she didn't have time to dwell on what it might mean that Ben would be here soon. All the time, though, at the back of her mind sat Andy's news.

  Andy had said Ben would arrive some time today. What time? What would she say? What would he say? At the very least he couldn't say she'd been chasing him.

  Why now when she had just started to think of him less? Could it possibly be a coincidence he'd decided to come here now, just when Andy needed him, or had he followed her?

  She sniffed. It was no coincidence and she had no idea what he had in mind. She needed less speculation and more concentration on the job. But despite all the sensible reminders she couldn't completely dampen the flicker of hope that he'd missed her and had followed her with a view to getting to know her better.

  An hour later when the door to the ward opened down the hall her hand stilled as she bent to tuck the end of the clean sheet under the mattress. Was it him? Already? She wasn't prepared enough, and she looked around frantically as if she could hide.

  Stop it! Misty breathed out and waited—calmly, she assured herself—for whoever it was to enter, close the door, and find her.

  She forced herself to resume her task but in that frozen moment of intrusion it was strange how suddenly all her senses seemed to have come alive. Time slowed to aching fragments of seconds and the creases in her hands seemed suddenly enlarged and ugly when she stared down at her fingers.

  She could clearly identify the tang of bleach on the crisp, white hospital sheet and feel the slight stiffness in the cotton as it slid coldly beneath her fingers.

  In slow motion she squared the corner of the sheet and tucked it under the mattress before she straightened and strained her ears for more sound.

  The expected hail from her visitor didn't come. Only the world outside the win
dows drifted in—the passing cars, the call of birds, a scratchy rustle of a branch against the wall outside the room.

  No footsteps? She frowned. Where was he? 'Hello.' Her voice sounded much more uncertain than she'd expected.

  'Who's there?' she called, and for a split second Ben's arrival seemed less certain and a nasty alternative occurred to her. She began to edge back against the wall and unconsciously her hand slid protectively across her heart.

  Finally the door swung closed again and then she heard the footsteps she'd waited for. Purposeful, not threatening or sinister, somebody who was looking for a midwife, and her shoulders dropped with relief.

  'Hello yourself.' The cadence echoed her own memory of the sound of Ben's voice and she let the sound wash over her with unexpected relief.

  'I thought no one was here,' he said.

  Ben wasn't the sinister intruder she'd conjured up in her imagination and she took a step towards him before she remembered a month had passed since she'd spoken to him last. And she didn't know why he was there.

  Ben must have seen the tension on her face because his eyes narrowed as he glanced around. 'Misty? Are you OK?'

  She sighed, heavily, still faint with tension. 'It's you.'

  He tilted his head and his gaze roamed over her face, as if reimprinting her on his memory. 'Who else did you think it might be?'

  'No idea. Just had a silly fright. My nerves are shot,' she said, and laughed shakily before she dragged her eyes away from the intensity of his.

  Ben looked so large and vital and handsome and so, so out of her reach. How could she tell this stranger she'd been thinking of him day and night for a month?

  'I didn't think you had nerves,' he teased. He stepped closer. 'Your face is pale,' he said, and just that sympathy made her want to lay her head on his chest, and when he reached across to stroke her cheek, the single touch evoked the morning at the beach house in full sensory force.

  She flinched at the heat that transmitted itself through her skin and spread a surge of warmth across her face and neck like a flash fire. Her brain urged her back against the wall and thankfully the plaster was cold enough against her spine to combat the conflagration that was spreading under the surface of her skin.