Midwives On Call At Christmas: Midwife's Christmas Proposal

Still distracted, she kissed him back but not with her full attention. ‘Not possible.’

But the sound came again and closer to them. To the side there was a rustle of bushes, the crack of tiny twigs, and she twisted her head to see past Simon’s shoulder and then she saw it. A small grey-brown bird the size of a chicken, his reddish-brown throat lifted as he gazed at her. But it was the two long feathers that hung each side of his tail that told her what it was.

She whispered. ‘Simon. Turn slowly and look to your left.’

Simon turned his head and saw it. A slow smile curved his mouth. ‘I told you!’ He squeezed her. ‘Our lyrebird.’

He’d said ‘our’ again. She hugged that defiantly to herself and ignored her voice of caution. ‘Why doesn’t it run away?’

He grinned cheekily. ‘Well, it knows I don’t want to move.’ He squeezed her gently. Looked down into her face. ‘I really don’t want to.’

But the lyrebird could. He strutted across to a little mound of dirt about six feet from them and climbed to the top, where he spread his gorgeous tail. Swivelled his head to glance at them as if to tell them to pay attention, and the two long tail feathers spread like the outside edges of a fan and outlined the distinctive harp-shaped feathers in the centre that had given him his name. And then he began to prance.

Tara could feel the rush of goose-bumps that covered her arms. A shivering perception of something magical and mystical, totally surreal, and Simon’s eyes never left the bird’s dance until he felt her glance at him.

The lyrebird shook his tail at them once more in a grand finale and then sauntered off into the bushes.

They stood silently, watching the bush where it had disappeared, but it had gone. Job done. Simon looked amused and then strangely thoughtful. ‘You know what this means?’ Simon said quietly.

He watched her with an expression she didn’t understand and she searched his face. Then remembered what he’d said weeks ago when he’d first arrived. But she wasn’t saying that.

Simon sounded more spooked than excited. ‘It’s a sign.’ He tilted his head. ‘Which I didn’t believe in before, I admit.’ Then he shrugged and said lightly, as if sharing a joke, ‘We must be meant for each other.’

She stared at him—couldn’t believe that. More goose-bumps covered her arms at the thought. She and Simon? For ever? Nope. Couldn’t happen. ‘Or there’s a gorgeous female lyrebird behind us that we can’t see.’

He smiled but she had the feeling he was glad she’d poo-pooed it too. ‘Could be that as well.’

Then he pulled her closer in his arms until they squeezed together and with the magic of the moment and the dusk slowly dimming into night, he kissed her and she kissed him back, and the magic settled over them like a gossamer cloud, but it wasn’t quite the same, Simon wasn’t quite the same, and when it was the moment that balanced between losing themselves or pulling back it was Simon who pulled back.

If she wasn’t mistaken, there was look of poorly disguised anxiety on his face.

CHAPTER TEN

IN THE LAST glow of the dimming evening the motorbike’s engine thrummed beneath them and Simon held onto Tara on the way back to the lake. A single beam of light swept the roadside and the rest was darkness, a bit like the bottom of the deepening hole of dread inside him. That had been too close. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. Sharing a lyrebird was for those who knew what they were doing.

Thank goodness she’d had the presence of mind to see his sudden distance because suddenly he hadn’t been sure he really wanted to step off the edge with Tara. When had it become more serious than he’d intended? Did she really feel the same and if she did could he trust himself to be everything she thought he was?

On the mountain, at the end, it had been Tara who had agreed they should go, agreed when Simon had said he was worried about hitting wildlife in the dark. But, despite the peculiar visions of lyrebirds scattering in the headlights, the real reason had been that he wasn’t sure he was as heart-whole as he had been any more. In fact, he’d had a sudden onset of the heebie-jeebies about just how deep he was getting in here, and none of this was in his plans—or his belief system.

And then Tara had agreed so easily that now, contrarily, he’d decided she didn’t feel secure either.

But earlier, standing with her in his arms, losing himself in the generosity that was Tara, despite her fierce independence, he’d almost believed the sudden vision that he could hold this woman for the rest of his days.

But what if he broke her heart for ever if he had to move on?

Like his mum had moved on from his dad. Like Maeve’s man, and his ex-friend, had moved on from them. The problem was that since the lyrebird, just an hour ago, Simon felt connected to Tara by a terrifying concept he hadn’t expected but which was proving stronger than he had felt with anyone in his world. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

She made him feel larger than life, which he wasn’t, exuberant when he hadn’t thought he had an exuberant bone in his body. She made him want to experience the adventure of the world. And with Tara it would be an adventure. A quest towards the kind of life he had only dreamt of having for himself.

Except it wasn’t him.

He wasn’t quite sure who she was seeing in him but it wasn’t Simon Campbell. He needed to get a little distance back while he worked through this.

Because he wasn’t the adventurous, fun guy Tara needed. She needed someone to jump out of planes with, fall head over heels in love with her, and be there for the next month, the next year, the next lifetime. He couldn’t be sure he could sign up for that.

She deserved someone who would do that. So why did he have the feeling there was a great cloud of foreboding hanging over his head?

Next morning at breakfast Maeve wandered into the kitchen and ducked under a Christmas streamer before she sat down. ‘What’s wrong with Simon?’ She absently scratched her tummy and inclined her head back towards the bathroom her brother had just disappeared into.

The door slammed and Tara winced. ‘No idea. He’s been acting strange since we came back from the picnic last night.’ Maybe he was always like this and she’d been too blinded by his pretty face.

Or she’d said something that made him realise she was the last woman he wanted to get involved with. Suck it up, princess, you know this happens to you all the time. ‘Is he usually moody?’

‘Nope.’ Maeve shook her head. ‘He’s the most even-tempered of all of us. The only time he gets techy is if he’s worried about something big.’

Did she qualify for big? Did he think she was trying to trap him? Cringe. Cringe.

Lord, no. She’d never do that. She’d been told often enough by Matron to push herself out there and be a little more demanding but it just wasn’t in her make-up. If the family hadn’t seen how badly she’d wanted their life, she hadn’t been about to tell them and get knocked back for her pains.

She guessed Simon was that all over again. ‘He’ll get over it.’ And her. Already had, it seemed. It was probably all in her imagination anyway and he had just been amusing himself.

Well, problem was there was so much to admire about him, and he seemed to enjoy her company, plus he was a darned good kisser, and she’d practically thrown herself at him last night and he’d knocked her offer back, and that had left them in an awkward place, now that she thought about it. Thanks very much, Simon.

Time to change the subject. And the focus of her life. ‘So how are you going, Maeve?’

Simon’s sister shrugged. ‘I’m fine. Feeling less nauseous and much heavier around the middle.’ She sent Tara one of the most relaxed smiles Tara had seen from her. ‘But I’d rather talk about you two.’

Darn! Lulled into a false sense of security. ‘There’s no “us two”.’

Maeve raised her brows disbelievingly and Tara wanted to bury her head in her hands. Seriously. How many other people thought she’d fallen for Simon? Or he for her? Just because they’d hung out together a bit, and kissed a few times, that smug voice inside insisted.

Maeve wasn’t having any of that apparently. ‘Well, if there’s not a “you two” he’s been pretty hopeless at getting the message across. What with parachuting photo packages, and pestering you for a bike ride, and Louisa for a picnic hamper—and the rug! ‘

Lots of eyebrow waggling coming her way here and Tara could feel the heat creep up her cheeks. So this was what it was like to have a sister.

Obviously Maeve had no scruples in laying stuff out in front of her and teasing. Maybe she hadn’t been so unlucky as an orphan to avoid this stuff. Apart from Mick’s sister, she’d never really been one for girly relationships. Again the idea of becoming fond of someone when you never knew when they’d go away for a weekend and never come back. She’d decided a long time ago it was better to keep her distance.

But Maeve wasn’t keeping her distance, neither had she finished. ‘Seems a lot of effort for someone he doesn’t care about.’

Tara had no idea how to deal with this. With her acquaintances she’d just tell them to shut up but you couldn’t do that to Maeve—or she didn’t think it would work anyway. ‘Can we change the subject?’

‘Not until I give you some advice.’

Oh, no. ‘Do you have to? Please. I hate advice. Comes with having to sort yourself out all your life.’ She said it but now she knew Maeve better she doubted anything would stop her when she was on a roll. She almost wished for the washed-out, droopy dandelion Maeve had been before she’d recovered her spirits.

She looked again at the new, brighter Maeve and she knew she was happy her friend had found her equilibrium. Lyrebird Lake was doing its magic. So, no, she didn’t wish for droopy Maeve back.

Over the last few weeks, gradually they had become friends, good friends, if she dared to say it. She and Maeve had found lots to smile about. Lots to agree and not agree about and quirky, girly conversations that had often little to do with Simon. And, at Maeve’s request, nothing at all to do with Rayne, the father of Maeve’s baby.

‘Me? Not give advice?’ Maeve laughed at her.

Tara sighed. ‘But you’re not having this all your own way. I’ll listen to you if you tell me what you’re thinking about Rayne.’

Maeve blinked in shock and Tara grinned. ‘And if I have advice then you have to listen to me.’

Ha. Miss Bossy didn’t like it so much in return. But to give Maeve her due, she sat back with a grimace. ‘I was being pushy, wasn’t I?’ She shook her head and smiled wryly. ‘You haven’t seen this side of me yet but I’m not normally the pathetic wimp I’ve been since I came here.’

She looked around and then back at Tara. ‘You know what? You’re right. I do feel better since I came here. This place really is as amazing as Simon says it is.’

Tara looked around with fresh eyes. Made herself feel the moment. Smell the furniture polish. Taste the freshly brewed tea from the pot that Louisa had made before she’d gone out. Saw the little touches that spelt people cared. A Christmas nativity scene tucked in behind the bread basket. The growing pile of gifts under the tree. The photo frames of family that Louisa polished with her silver cloth every morning. ‘I think it’s the people.’

And Tara didn’t ever want to leave but she wasn’t expecting the world to be that perfect. ‘Yep. It’s amazing. And it is good to see you firing on all cylinders—even if you are a bit scary sometimes.’

‘Scary? Me? You should meet my oldest sister, Kate.’ Then Maeve showed she at least was focussed. ‘Seeing that you hate advice, I’ll keep it simple—and let you in on a secret.’

She sat forward, ready to impart her wisdom, and Tara pulled a face as she waited. ‘My sisters and I have decided Simon’s been hiding from a real romantic relationship all his life—he’s terrified the fairy-tale isn’t real.’

‘Um. I hate to tell you this, but it isn’t,’ Tara said, but Maeve ignored her.

‘Whether that came from our mother and his dad not staying together or the fact that he never knew his dad, we don’t know.’

She lowered her voice. ‘What we do know is that the right woman can help him come out from the place he’s been hiding all these years—but she has to get past the barriers.’

‘Barriers?’ Tara was lost. She had no idea what Maeve was talking about. She hadn’t noticed any barriers.

‘Not when-you-meet-him barriers. He’s too good a people person for that. It’s later. Whenever a woman is getting close, he’d discover some other place that needed him more than he needed her and bolt. She’d try and hold him, he’d spend less time with her, and then she’d give up and drop him. I’ve seen it time and again. But you’re different.’

Her? Tara? Different? She couldn’t help the tiny glow of warmth the words left in her chest. Then she thought it through and decided there was another reason she was different. Maybe because she didn’t expect people to want to look long term with her?

‘He’s scared of long term, Tara.’

Well, there you go. Maybe she was the right girl for him after all. She forced a smile. ‘I’m not presuming long-term.’ Had lost that expectation years ago.

‘Might be the way to getting it.’ Maeve looked at her.

That didn’t make sense. ‘You mean, actually say, Hi, Simon, I don’t expect long term?’ The fantasy was tragically attractive—but it was fantasy. But that didn’t mean one day it mightn’t happen. Did it?

Maeve waggled her brows. ‘And that just might be the way to break through the barriers.’

Nope. Tara didn’t understand and she backed away from reading anything ridiculously ambitious into Maeve’s comments. ‘Okay. I’ve listened.’ And you are scaring the socks off me at the thought of having any such conversation with Simon. Although if Simon was scared she would try to trap him, he did need to know that wasn’t in her plans.

But he had changed after the lyrebird, true, and he’d practically said he remembered what seeing the bird dance meant. True love and all that stuff. For a guy who wasn’t thinking long term she guessed that could be scary. She wasn’t scared, just didn’t believe the hogwash. All too confusing for a conversation.

‘Your turn.’ She sat forward. ‘Tell me about the father of your child.’ She really did want to know. She couldn’t imagine anyone leaving Maeve. She was gorgeous and funny, and she was classy.

Maeve’s shoulders drooped. Her confident persona disappeared into the dejected woman Tara had first met. There was an extended silence and Tara thought for a moment Maeve was going to renege. Then she sighed. ‘I fell for Rayne like a ton of bricks.’ She lifted her head, her eyes unexpectedly dreamy, and remembered. ‘He’s a head taller than me, shoulders like a front-row forward, and those eyes. Black pools of serious lust when he looked at me. Which he did from across the room.’

Tara had to grin. Descriptive. ‘Crikey. I’m squirming on my seat over here. So what happened?’

She shrugged. ‘We spent the night together—then he went to jail.’

Tara remembered Maeve saying he’d omitted to tell her he was going to jail. ‘Was he wrongly convicted?’

Tears filled Maeve’s eyes. She chewed her lip and gathered her control. Then looked at Tara with a wry and watery smile. ‘Thank you.’

Tara wasn’t sure what was going on but she seriously wanted to get to the bottom of it. ‘Did he tell you about it?’

Shook her head. ‘Didn’t have a chance. And since then he’s refused to see or talk to me on the phone.’

That didn’t make sense. ‘So when did this happen?

Maeve patted her stomach. ‘Eight months ago.’

O-o-o-kay. Tara suspected Simon might have reason to worry. ‘And how long were you together before you fell pregnant?’

She sighed. ‘One night. But I’ve always loved Rayne. He was the bad boy all the girls lusted after. I always thought the problem was more his mum than Rayne—she was a single mum and couldn’t kick her drug addiction—but despite our mum’s misgivings he and Simon were always friends.’

And now he’d got Simon’s sister pregnant on the way to jail. Probably why Simon wanted to wring his neck.

Maeve was still talking. ‘Simon and he were mates through med school and then Rayne went to California to do paediatrics. And he was supposed to come and work with Simon at his hospital this year.’

She shrugged. ‘Something happened when he was over there, and apparently as soon as he hit Australia alarm bells went off. Simon picked him up from the airport, and neither of us knew that the police would come for him as soon as he was back in the country. It seems he suspected it was a possibility and didn’t tell us.’

‘Wow. Seems a strange way to act.’

‘I’m pretty sure he planned to tell but Simon got called out to a patient before he could, I think.’ Maeve shrugged.

‘Problem was, I’ve fancied this guy since I carried a lunchbox to school, hadn’t seen him for eight years, and that night Simon left.’ She shrugged. ‘I was feeling low after a break-up, here was this guy coming I’d had a crush on since puberty and it all just happened. Except Simon has never forgiven him—when, in fact, the guy had little choice because I practically seduced him.’

Her face went pink and Tara could see a heck of a lot had happened. Wow again.

‘Obviously I’ve thought about that night and I think Rayne’s natural resistance was lowered by the fact he might be in prison for the next ten years and I was throwing myself at him.’

‘Imagine?’ Tara looked at Maeve. Gorgeous, sexy, and, she was beginning to suspect, wilful and a little spoilt, but in a nice way. A way Tara could quite easily be envious of except she’d shaken that out of herself years ago as a destructive waste of wishful thinking.

‘And then the next morning the police came and took him away. It was a shock because we’d slept together and he just walked away without looking back.’

Absently she stroked her belly. ‘Simon was livid when he found out that Rayne had suspected they might come. But I think he’d come to explain and get advice from Simon, except it hadn’t worked out. And then I complicated matters.’

Wow. Maeve had certainly complicated matters. It was like an end-of-season episode of a soap opera. Tara had major sympathy for Simon. But Maeve had problems too. And then there was the mysterious Rayne.

‘Do you love him?’

She spread her hands. ‘I’ve had all pregnancy to think about it. About the fact that he might not be the guy I think he is. Or if he was he might change a lot in prison. So when I see him again he might not be the hero that I always imagined him to be and I fell for the pretty face I’d always fancied and created the energy between us by wishful thinking.’

Tara agreed with her there. It all sounded explosively spontaneous. ‘It’s a possibility.’

‘I know. I know. It was a whirlwind event that will affect the rest of my life. But really I don’t know. He doesn’t care enough to answer my calls. Or answer my letters. Or comment on the fact that I’m pregnant and soon to have his child. That hurts.’

Yep. That would hurt. ‘That is hard.’

Maeve went on. ‘When I found out I was pregnant I thought Simon was going to have a stroke. We had a huge fight. I said I was old enough to make my own mistakes and he said he could see that was true but not under his roof. Then he absolutely tore Rayne’s actions to shreds when I knew it was mostly me. So we really haven’t made up since then. But I still live under his roof so we’ve had sort of a cold truce for most of this year.’

She sighed again. ‘I know I let him and my parents down. Crashed off my pedestal and that hurt too. But I swear, one look at Rayne, at his need for comfort, and I was a goner, and seeing how it turned out I can understand his reluctance to let me into his life now. I can regret the timing but if I’m ever going to have a child the fact that it’s Rayne’s is no real hardship.’

A can of worms getting wormier actually. ‘I’m not sure I have advice for you. Except to say that guys in jail, even innocent ones, do change from the experience. I’ve known people who have. I’m not saying it won’t work out between you, but he might be a harder, tougher man than the one who went in. If you do meet him again, which I guess you will if you’re having his baby, make sure he is the man you love before you commit to anything. You have your baby to think of as well as yourself.’

Maeve looked back soberly. ‘I guess it has been all about the baby and me. I do need reminding that Rayne is in a different world right now and that he’s having it tough too. Thanks, Tara.’

Tara wasn’t sure that was what she’d been trying to say. ‘And thanks for your advice, though I can’t see myself starting a conversation like that with Simon.’ She smiled and stood up. ‘As for your story, you make my life seem pretty boring.’

‘Simon doesn’t think you’re boring.’

And here we begin the conversation again. Enough. ‘The good news is I have to go and do some home visits so I’m going to leave you.’ She carried her cup and saucer and cereal plate to the sink and rinsed them. ‘Catch you later.’

As she walked towards her room she mulled over the conversation. No wonder Maeve had been low in spirits when she’d arrived. And it explained the tension between Simon and his sister.

It was understandable Simon felt betrayed by his friend and to a lesser degree by his sister. She’d actually love to hear Simon’s side of the story but couldn’t see how she could ask without betraying the confidence that Maeve had spoken to her about it all.

And that it all happened under his own roof wouldn’t have helped his overactive protective bone.

Maeve had been very generous with her sharing and her advice and it had been nice to talk like that. Exchange banter with her friend. She was getting better at relationships with other people. Letting herself be more open and looking a little more below the surface to try to connect to other people instead of being too wary.

She’d never had a friend like Maeve before and hoped she’d helped her. Maeve had certainly given her something to think about with Simon. Maybe she could have real friendship relationships with women apart from being their midwife. Though she guessed she was Maeve’s midwife as well.

She pulled on her jeans to ride the bike and slipped into her boots. Organised her workbag on autopilot and mulled over Maeve’s words. Shook her head. He wasn’t scared. Simon didn’t care enough.

When they’d been together at the lookout he’d been a gentleman and not raised her expectations. She supposed it was a good thing but she really would have liked to lose herself all the way in those gorgeous arms. And he’d been such a good kisser. She shook her head. Come on. He was way out of her league. Get with the programme.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SIMON STOOD IN the shower and could feel the edges of panic clawing at him. And he couldn’t ease away by running back to Sydney Central work like he usually did because Maeve was getting close to having her baby. He had to be around in case anything happened.

This was certainly the time he usually left a relationship—way past it, in fact, as far as rapport between him and the woman went—except for the fact he would have been sleeping with her well and truly by now and that hadn’t happened with Tara. How on earth had the emotional stuff happened when they hadn’t even slept together? Everything was upside down. Back to front. And confusing.

Maybe it was proximity. Of course it was incredibly hard not to get closer than normal when you were living in the same house and working in the same place and associating with the same people.

Um, except he had lived with other women and not got too emotionally involved. And he had the horrible suspicion he’d miss Tara if he created the distance he needed—either mentally or geographically.

That was the scariest thing of all. It hadn’t happened before. He’d always felt the relationship was well and truly over by the time he began to see the signs of long-term planning on the side of his lady friend. Which was a good thing because that way he wasn’t responsible for hurting anyone.