The Midwife's Little Miracle

The other friend, Mia, had been assigned washing and garden work so Andy had offered to mow the lawns before he left.

He didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to watch Montana, a pastime he suspected he could become captivated by.

Something wasn’t right with Montana today.

It was a typical three-women-and-extra-brother afternoon at Montana’s house and he found it all strangely poignant that it was the last he would be present at.

Misty stroked Dawn’s downy cheek as she whispered to the tiny baby in her arms. ‘You are beautiful. Yes you are.’

Andy heard his sister’s crooning but his attention was on Montana as she rested back in the lounge with the cup of jasmine tea he’d made for her and fielded the barrage of questions Mia seemed obsessed with.

‘You sure you didn’t mean to have Dawn up there in the mountains all the time? You must have known you were going into labour? Didn’t you have a premonition?’

‘No premonition. I leave that to Misty.’ Montana’s quiet voice drifted across to him and he saw her glance at him but she didn’t smile.

Why did he need her to smile? ‘And to Andy,’ she finished, and he savoured the way she said his name.

He should go. Get out of this hens’ party and think about packing to head home. He still had a heap of shopping to do before he flew back tomorrow morning and if he went back to the Lake without the special ingredients Louisa, their housekeeper, had requested, he was a dead man.

He just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Montana today—though that was nothing new. The day he’d met her replayed like a favourite movie in his brain.

He could still see her alone in an isolated clearing on the side of a mountain surrounded by mist—a woman as calm and tranquil as a Tibetan monk—after giving birth alone.

She’d declined hospital assessment even though he admitted she had two willing experts in his sister and Mia.

Here in her own home, even with her new baby, he’d never seen her succumb to any sort of anxiety, until now.

He kept remembering how serene she’d been when he’d first arrived to bring her back. That serenity was missing, and he didn’t think it was just the fact that Mia was hounding her again, but maybe it was.

‘Mia, leave her alone.’ Although he said it quietly, his voice cut across the room and the three women turned towards him.

Dawn began to cry and Misty carried her across to her mother as she glared at her brother. Andy smiled.

All three women could indicate displeasure with their eyes but his sister won hands down. Their mother had been the same but Misty would have been too young to remember that.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle everyone. Forget it.’ His sister would flay him for upsetting the baby but he was more worried about upsetting Montana.

Maybe his sister could help. ‘Can I see you for a minute, Misty, please?’

Misty shrugged and Montana raised one eyebrow mockingly as if to say he’d picked the wrong household to assert his authority, but he could see she was fine with him at least.

Misty approached with that militant look in her eye and he turned away with her so the other two couldn’t see their faces.

‘Sorry.’ Diversion might be a useful deflection. ‘Just wanted to ask you if you think it’s a good thing Montana stays here when it obviously makes her so sad.’

As a spur-of-the-moment diversion it had come with a lot of thought.

Misty frowned and tilted her head as if to peer inside his brain. He hated it when she did that because a lot of the time she could guess what he was thinking, and he didn’t even know what he was thinking himself.

‘What choice does she have?’ She spoke slowly as she watched him and he tried his own attempt at peering. She probably thought he was interested in Montana. Well, he was—but not like that!

He’d been there when Montana had said she didn’t want to come back to this house, this town, anywhere near the hospital.

‘Montana could come back to Lyrebird Lake with me and work in the hospital when she’s ready. She said she didn’t want to go back to Westside. We’re still looking for a midwife and an evening supervisor. Maybe she could fill those positions until she decides what she wants to do.’

Misty was still peering. ‘You’d have to talk to her about that yourself. And how would you get her there? She hates small planes.’

He didn’t like the scepticism in Misty’s voice but she didn’t seem as negative the more she thought about it.

She shook her head but again not as convincingly. ‘I can’t imagine Montana wanting to uproot herself from Douglas’s house and head to the back of beyond with a new baby.’

It wasn’t that dumb an idea. He frowned as he watched his sister consider the idea.

Too bad if she didn’t agree. It was Montana he needed to convince. ‘People in South East Queensland live there with babies. There’s no strangeness in that,’ he said.

Misty screwed her face up in disbelief that he could be so obtuse. ‘There is the problem of leaving everyone you know at a time you need them most.’

He’d be there for her and so would the others. ‘She’d know me. There’s a town full of people who would help.’

‘Strangers!’ Misty’s scorn came out a little forced and he began to hope she’d seen some advantage for Montana in his suggestion.

He lowered his voice. ‘Maybe that’s what she needs right now.’

Montana drifted across the room towards them and he watched her approach. Misty looked pointedly at her brother. ‘Ask her.’

He grimaced. It wasn’t how he would have chosen to broach the subject but something told him Montana had got the gist of their discussion anyway and maybe postponing this wasn’t helping. Even from the beginning he’d never doubted her powers of observation.

At least her expression could be construed as interested, not wary. Here goes, he thought. ‘I wondered if you might like a change of scene, Montana. Maybe a job when you’re ready, up my way. We have vacancies we can’t fill at the cottage hospital.’

She watched his face as he spoke and he hoped he made sense. ‘I think I’ve mentioned I live in a rambling old house with tons of room. There’s another semi-retired doctor plus any locums that can come for a week or two to give us relief.’

He glanced briefly at the bassinet by the window, where Dawn now slept. ‘You and Dawn could share with us for as long as you like, or even have your own cottage as there are a few on the hospital grounds if that would suit you better.’

She looked more receptive than he’d hoped for so he went on. ‘We’re looking for another midwife and an evening supervisor. Misty told me you have a management certificate and I thought you might be interested in a fresh start.’

‘Don’t blame me,’ Misty said, but both of them ignored her as Montana considered the idea.

Obviously Misty expected Montana to turn him down but if he wasn’t mistaken he’d say Montana actually looked relieved he’d asked her.

She certainly seemed interested. ‘I’ve heard you say you don’t deliver babies at the Lake,’ she said quietly, and raised her finely arched brows. ‘Is that hospital policy or just because of the lack of midwives?’

‘Occasionally we have babies. There’s myself and Ned, the semi-retired GP I live with, but we only have one midwife on staff with any obstetric experience. We catch unexpected babies when we have to but send on the rest to the regional hospital because that’s where the skill base is.’

Of course that would be where her interest would lie, he thought, and wondered how he could turn that to his advantage.

‘That is something we expect might have to change as the town grows.’ He shrugged and grinned. ‘So if you can convince a few of your friends to migrate north, that would be good, too.’

He picked up on her interest and began to experience the exhilaration he usually only felt when he’d accomplished a difficult surgery or diagnosed an elusive condition. Or landed a beautiful fish.

‘A midwifery-led clinic and case load, you mean?’ Her head was up and he could feel her intensity.

He just might have her. ‘Perhaps, though you’d have to explain caseload midwifery more fully to me some time. I know you’ve been involved with the stand-alone centre at Westside.’

She nodded. ‘Women-centred care is springing up more commonly now since women consumers have documented what they want. I would be happy to clarify the concepts for you.’

She chewed her bottom lip. ‘How long would I have to stay if I came out and just had a look?’

She was still cagey but he could feel she was close to considering his offer and he pressed his advantage, unable to believe his luck.

‘No ties.’ He didn’t want to scare her off, for a variety of reasons. Once she’d seen the place and the potential he’d seen, she’d be hooked. He hoped. She had a lot to offer and Matron would be delighted.

‘We could say you’re visiting, if you like, then if you decided to go home no one would be any wiser.’

‘A freeloader?’ She wasn’t happy with that and he doubted she’d ever taken anything for nothing.

‘With a view to helping us out in the future. That’s not freeloading. Rest for as long as you need. A month or two at least. Lots of things run on a barter system at the Lake. We’ll sort something out. It’s not easy to get staff so if you stayed to work short or long term, we’d be fine with that.’

‘Babysitting?’ She’d changed. He couldn’t pick when it had happened, but she’d lost the anxious look she’d had all morning. Now she was efficient and focussed. He could see that and he liked it. It was beginning to feel as if they were the only two in the room and he liked that as well—perhaps a bit too much.

He thought of Louisa, his housekeeper, and how much she’d adore Dawn. ‘Our housekeeper is a grandmother whose grandkids live away. She’d be in seventh heaven with Dawn and would happily look after her when you needed her to.’

Overall, after his explanations, Montana appeared relieved, if anything, and he began to believe it could possibly happen. Why did it matter so much that this woman would come when others he’d been philosophical about hadn’t?

‘Thank you for asking me,’ was all she said. ‘I’d like to think about it.’

He watched her exchange a look with Misty and his sister frowned. Was that a good look or a bad look?

He opted to give them time to talk in case he went backwards from here. He’d done all he could. He nodded and moved across to apologise to Mia.

Montana watched his progress across the room before she turned to Misty.

She needed this. The memories everywhere she looked were crushing her. ‘I’d like to go with your brother to Lyrebird Lake.’

Misty frowned. ‘You made that decision fast.’ But the lack of surprise in her friend’s voice made Montana smile.

She sighed ruefully. ‘I’ve been a mess, trying to decide whether to ask him all morning. I knew they had staffing problems but it will be weeks before I’ll want to think about work. With somewhere to stay, it’s the perfect answer.’

‘Perfect answer to what?’ Misty said.

Montana heard the censure and could see Misty did not understand her rationale.

‘You have everything here,’ Misty went on. She included Mia in an encompassing gesture. ‘You have us.’

Too true, Montana thought, and that part would be hard. ‘I love you guys, and I will miss you, and that will be the hardest part, but there’s too much here.’

She met Misty’s eyes. ‘I need to get away and start life afresh with Dawn. I’m not looking to replace Douglas, just looking for somewhere everyone doesn’t panic about what to say to me in case they upset me. I’ll never forget Douglas, can’t imagine being with another man, but I need to be a whole person for my daughter, and I can’t do that here.’

‘Fair enough, but don’t decide immediately.’ Misty hugged her. ‘He leaves tomorrow. It’s going to happen fast and you might wake up and wonder what you’ve done.’

Montana looked across at Andy, where he was laughing with Mia. He made her laugh too, and that wasn’t an easy thing to do. ‘I know. But that’s a risk I have to take. I would be in safe hands. Will you help me?’

‘Of course.’ Misty sighed and glanced at her watch as she tried to calculate how much time they had. ‘You never know. I might turn up for a visit there one day by myself.’

‘You’d have to bring Mia, and her boyfriend wouldn’t like that—he’d have to cook for himself. But we’d have fun.’ The two women smiled.

When they left the next day it took Montana a while to come to grips with the fact that not only did Andy own the plane but he would be the pilot if she wanted to avoid a two-day car trip with a newborn.

She’d always had a reluctance to fly and the idea of a tiny two-seater plane with her daughter was right up there in nightmare territory. If she hadn’t had that unexpected confidence in Andy that she’d felt from the first moment she’d seen him, she would have pulled out.

She eased herself stiffly into the cramped seat, quickly breathed in and out a couple of times and tried to secure her seat belt, but it wouldn’t latch into place. Her fingers fumbled with it.

She could do this. She tried again one-handed with Dawn against her chest and then again with slightly more desperation until the door beside her opened and the woodsy aftershave she’d begun to associate with Andy drifted past her nose.

‘May I?’ He looked down at her with a reassuring smile and she remembered why she’d decided to go with this man.

She sighed and relaxed, and at her nod Andy clicked her belt and then secured the tiny strap around Dawn that threaded between mother and daughter like a leather umbilical cord for emergencies.

It meant she was joined again to her daughter and she liked the idea for the flight.

She wondered who would be drawing reassurance from whom in the coming flight. Thank God Andy was there to look after both of them.

Then Andy climbed into the other side of the plane and squeezed his big frame down next to her, and she could feel the warmth from his body like a soothing shield. She enjoyed feeling slightly safer until she remembered his presence meant they were close to take-off.

Oh, boy, she thought grimly, and concentrated on his strong hands as they caressed the controls. An unexpected wish to feel those fingers squeeze her hand in comfort made her twist to stare out the window.

‘You OK?’ She heard his voice and she turned back and hoped her face at least appeared calm.

‘Fine,’ she lied, and he looked across at her and grinned.

He nodded and resumed his flight preparations. She chewed her lip while he talked to the flight control tower and then it was too late to change her mind because the little Cessna had begun to taxi in an ungainly rattle down the runway.

Another small plane in front of them awaited take-off and she watched in sick fascination as it lined up and then hurtled away from them down the runway before it climbed precariously away into the sky. She swallowed the fear in her throat. Their plane would have to do that.

She wished irrationally that Dawn would be less settled and whimper or do something to distract her, but her daughter snoozed on regardless.

Andy positioned the plane and the engine built in noise until it seemed to scream—a little like the noise Montana wanted to make but couldn’t—and her nerves stretched.

He looked across at her and flashed his white teeth in the joy of the moment before take-off. Pretty impressive dentistry, she acknowledged, by grimacing back, then she returned to the only thing she could do as she breathed in and out. She prayed.

Breathing was a good thing and improved the lightness in her head at least, and praying could be helpful if divine intervention was required.

He released the brakes and the plane began its thunder down the runway and when she risked a look the tarmac beside her blurred. Suddenly the noise changed and her stomach plummeted and she realised they were in the air as the ground dropped woozily below her window.

OhmyGod. She turned her head away and closed her eyes.

Obviously Dawn travelled better than her mother. She was asleep. Montana tried to think of something different that rhymed with doom and gloom and boom. She moistened her lips and risked opening one eye.

They’d levelled out and Andy looked pretty relaxed. She opened her other eye.

She’d talk about the weather. ‘So, do you have emergency supplies in this thing and a homing beacon?’ That wasn’t what she’d meant to say.

Andy smiled. ‘GPS tracker and, yes, we have basic emergency supplies. Today we even have English muffins, ginger marmalade and Norfolk punch as extras for my housekeeper and jasmine tea for you. But despite the size of the plane, we’re safe.’

He glanced at her sleeping daughter. ‘Dawn isn’t worried.’

Montana looked down at her. ‘Hmm. She has less imagination than I have.’

‘Wimp.’

His eyes danced and she noticed he had little brown flecks through the green of his irises, then she frowned at the unfairness of the comment.

‘Hey, if I was a wimp, I wouldn’t be here.’

The hundred-watt smile he sent her way warmed the ice around her heart and made her forget she and Dawn were in a fragile capsule a mile above the earth. Now it felt more like she floated in the air without support amongst the clouds outside her window. Heady stuff. Probably oxygen deprivation.

‘That’s true. You are not a wimp. Well done.’ His words continued to warm that cold spot she’d had in her chest for far too long, though it was probably just reactionary euphoria that they hadn’t died on take-off.

He changed the subject and began to recite anecdotes about the older doctor he lived with, and by the time they were nearly there she had acclimatised to the concept of flight, with Andy at least.

Montana’s first sight of Lyrebird Lake was as they broke through the low cloud and saw it lying ahead.

The grey of the water on the lake reflected the grey of the clouds that had dogged most of their journey and suddenly it suited her mood and her spirits plummeted.

She didn’t know anyone in this town except Andy. No doubt this sudden low feeling was helped by residual pregnancy hormones, but what had she been thinking of to leave everything she knew behind and literally take off with her week-old baby and a man she’d barely met? Even if he was the most restful man she’d ever known?

What if it didn’t work out? What if Dawn cried every night and kept the whole household awake? What if she lost this rapport with Andy that she relied on so much?

CHAPTER 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.