Читать книгу The Midwife's Little Miracle - Fiona McArthur - Страница 7
ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
‘YOU still with me?’
Andy could feel the change in Montana even though she tried to hide it.
He was way too aware of this woman but everything he’d done to try and change that awareness hadn’t worked and he did need to ensure he had a safety line to draw between him and her.
He was more than happy to help when he could, but it didn’t mean he had to try and fix all her problems.
It could be just her distrust of flying—lots of people weren’t comfortable in small planes—and he admired the way she’d overcome that fear without fuss or demands. But he had an idea it was more than that.
She was independent, he was that way himself so that shouldn’t bother him, but he wanted her to know he was available as a shoulder to lean on. As a brother, of course.
Actually, he wanted to reach over and squeeze her hand and reassure her that everything would work out but despite the way his sister and her friends hugged each other, he didn’t feel at ease in the touchy-feely set. Not platonically anyway.
Then there was the suspicion that once he’d touched Montana it might be hard to stop, and Andy struggled with that idea of touching another woman after Catherine.
He’d brought Montana here for a job—he really did respect all the things she’d achieved in the past if what Misty said was true—and it was her administrative skills he needed.
He was better unencumbered with love and family and he didn’t doubt Montana could be the whole package—if he let her, which he wasn’t going to. He was better alone. He’d promised himself that and he had too much baggage to inflict on someone else.
He watched her slender fingers slide gently over Dawn’s hair and wondered who drew comfort from whom as she cuddled her baby close.
‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘I just had a minute of panic.’
She stared out the window at the expanse of water below and he leant across to point things out because it directed his thoughts away from this uncomfortable space he was in at the moment.
Besides, he’d always loved this view and he hoped she could see the beauty below despite the scar of new development near the lake.
A scattering of established houses along the shore added to the town which nestled under a set of hills. ‘See the hills and the lookout. We have great bush walks and even a waterfall up there.’
Then the hospital came into view. ‘That’s all in the hospital grounds.’ He pointed out the largest tin-roofed building and a scattering of smaller buildings spreading out from it. ‘The one across the park is our house.’
Montana inclined her head towards the town below. ‘The town is smaller than I anticipated.’ Her voice seemed smaller than before, too, and a moment’s panic had him hoping she didn’t want to turn around and go home.
‘It’s tiny compared to Westside but it’s a full of good people in a good town.’ He wanted her to feel comfortable and realise the potential he saw in the area himself. The hospital needed her. She had nothing to do with his own needs.
‘We have a large feeder district but anyone with a complicated medical condition would still be shipped out. Admissions to the hospital are fairly simple and mostly brief. Same goes for births. If it’s not simple, it’s gone. But if we expand our services, that would change with the needs of the mine population.’
She nodded. ‘Lyrebird Lake is an unusual name. Is it because of the shape of the lake or because you have lyrebirds?’
He’d never seen a lyrebird. ‘I guess it’s the shape of the lake. We’re pretty far north as a habitat. There’s not much rainforest around here, though we do have some patches of wet forest which would make it possible.’
She nodded. ‘They are supposed to look like a small turkey with a tail. Has anyone ever seen one here?’
‘Not that I know of.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve heard some pretty strange noises in the bush so I guess I could have heard one. Apparently the lyrebird can copy another bird’s song, or an animal, or even man-made noises like chainsaws and crying babies.’
She smiled. ‘That would be a mother’s nightmare. One crying baby is enough.’
‘Ned says there’s a local myth that those who have suffered will be rewarded when the lyrebird visits. No visitations for me in the three years I’ve been here, and I think he’s pulling my leg.’
She smiled at his sceptical amusement. ‘So why are you here?’
He shrugged. ‘Lyrebird or not, the Lake healed me, and I think it could help you too.’ He looked across at her and hoped she realised he genuinely believed that and not just because he could use an extra midwife in the hospital.
‘The people are legitimate, as is their need, and you can’t stay immune to their warmth,’ he said. ‘I appreciate that after living in the city.’
She nodded so maybe she did understand. ‘Which hospital did you work in?’ she asked, and for the first time in a long time he didn’t mind answering.
‘The year after my wife died I spent in the emergency department at Sydney General. U and O they called it—understaffed and overwhelmed.’
His voice lowered as he remembered. ‘You know what it’s like. Extremely long hours, no emotional involvement with patients, just save them or lose them. I was happy to do that as I built up a big wall to hide behind. I couldn’t see myself becoming more clinical and distanced from humanity.’ He shook his head.
‘Misty, and the friends I had alienated, saw it.’ Rueful grin there at the memory of how taciturn he’d been since his wife had died. ‘They ganged up on me and suggested I resign. Then told me about Ned, the Lake’s retired GP, and how he needed help for a few months. He’s got degenerative vision failure and I’ve been here ever since.’
He thought back over the last couple of years and how his mindset had altered for the better. ‘I’ve grown to love it here and I’m committed to providing the medical needs of the community. If those needs adjust then the hospital will darned well adjust too.’
He pointed to the north. ‘It made things interesting when the mine opened up twenty kilometres away and now the farmland is selling faster than the local government can subdivide. We have our first restaurant in town.’
‘A real restaurant in town? Very flash.’ She smiled, probably at the pride in his voice, and he laughed.
‘It is for us.’ He’d take her there one day. Angelo would love Montana.
He went on. ‘The hospital will get busier and the idea of a midwifery-led unit is not as far-fetched as you might imagine. There is a core of women in town who are very progressive and well read on their rights. They’d love women-centred care.’
She tilted her head. ‘And I thought you were just saying that to tempt me.’
He smiled and tried not to think about who was tempting whom, because that wasn’t part of the plan. ‘Now, why would I do that?’
She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you recognised my symptoms from your own past or maybe…’ She paused and considered him. ‘You just wanted someone else to have the headache of setting up a new service.’
He grinned. ‘Bingo! We could be a good team.’ He adjusted the flaps on the wing. ‘You ready? We’re going in.’
The noise of the plane engine changed and the little cabin tilted as they began their circling descent.
Dawn squirmed against her mother as her ears blocked from the altitude change. Montana slipped her little finger into her daughter’s mouth so she would suck and swallow and pop her ears.
As a diversion from the risks of landing small aircraft, Montana mulled over what Andy had said.
He seemed a little obsessed with the hospital and the town, and he lived with an older doctor and his housekeeper. Obviously he’d been devastated at the loss of his wife and now devoted himself to his work.
But what about friends? Or other women?
Didn’t he have a life?
Did he expect she’d be as committed as he was because she’d lost her husband too? Was that why he’d been so keen to have her come?
Maybe he’d planned to staff the hospital with bereaved doctors and nurses.
All good questions, she told herself.
She had to smile at her fanciful meanderings but they were coming in and the thoughts helped to divert her mind away from the ground looming up at her.
She hadn’t guaranteed she’d stay at the Lake and she might not feel the same next week. ‘I hope this works out as you plan. That Dawn and I can settle for a while.’
In the few seconds before he answered Montana realised that as the pilot he was responsible for the safety of their descent.
What was she thinking? Now was not the smartest time to distract the pilot.
‘Please, ignore me and concentrate.’ There was a squeak of sheer terror in her voice and he looked across at her and smiled reassuringly.
‘I’ve done this hundreds of times.’
She grimaced at him. ‘Why does that not reassure me? You only have to blow it once in a plane.’ She’d tried for lightness and she wasn’t sure she’d pulled it off, but he returned to her previous statement and his relaxed example helped her hands unclench.
‘I know there are no guarantees you’ll love the Lake like I do,’ he said. ‘That’s understandable. We’ll see what the next few weeks bring.’
They landed smoothly and taxied up to park near a tin shed that proclaimed a welcome to Queensland and Lyrebird Lake, and Montana thought how she would have felt welcome anywhere that had firm earth beneath her feet.
As they waited for the propeller to stop revolving Andy slid his hands onto his strongly muscled thighs and turned to grin at her. ‘Well, you survived your flight and here we are.’
‘Thank you for getting us here safely.’ Her comment was heartfelt. ‘Interesting airport.’ She looked around at the deserted tarmac, though there did seem to be some activity in a hangar across the grass.
Andy followed her gaze. ‘There are great people in the flying club out here. I’ll have to bring you out to one of their barbeques. It’s a fun evening under the stars with a bunch of larrikins.’
He inclined his head towards the hangar. ‘Though they do take their flying seriously and I can’t beat one of them in the flour bombing.’
The propeller swung on its last rotation and Andy flicked the last of his switches and then climbed out to come around to her side.
He opened her door and warm air rushed in and wrapped around her like welcoming arms. She hoped it was prophetic. She hadn’t expected to feel like that about the new town.
Andy reached in to undo the strap around Dawn and Montana’s seat belt, and the release of the restraint seemed almost symbolic of her new life.