She loved Jock with all her heart. She’d upped the tempo of including him in all of the baby news to try to make him focus on the future and not the present drought.
She remembered the first time she’d seen Jock. An agricultural studies student from Australia. His broad shoulders and slim waist with his subtle, whipcord strength had been so different from the muscular Maori men she knew. Jock’s blue, blue eyes had smiled at her under the big Akubra hat that shaded his face. He’d looked at her more than the crops at the exchange-student ag farm she worked at.
‘Psst.’ She reached for Jock’s hand even though he was sleeping and dragged his work-roughened fingers scratchily across her belly so he could feel what was happening. Jock shifted and rolled onto his side, and as he woke properly, his hand pressed a little more firmly to sense the vigorous movements of their child. She watched his mouth curve and felt the echo of her own.
‘He’s a wild man like his dad,’ she whispered as Jock’s hand came away from her belly to gently caress her cheek, the roughness of his skin testament to the manual labour he loved.
‘Our baby will have dark, wavy hair and chocolate eyes like those that captured me,’ he whispered back and leaned over and kissed her. ‘Our daughter will be beautiful like you.’ He smiled. ‘And a strong Maori woman like you.’
‘I’m not the strong one. You are.’ Hana tamped down that frisson of fear and sighed into him. Forced herself to relax. She loved this crazy man so much. When he’d rested his blond head back on his pillow, she turned her cheek to look at him. Her big, strong cattleman she’d fallen in love with from across the Tasman Sea and followed home. Home to this desolate expanse of red earth, distant grey-blue mountains, and wonderful, caring people. But a Central Australian cattle station? She still shook her head over that one.
The landscape was so vastly different from the vibrant green hills of New Zealand’s North Island, and it was surprising she wasn’t more homesick. Though with dear Poddy, her brother, following her over and becoming Jock’s right-hand man, the rest of the family’s estrangement – and their horror that she’d married outside New Zealand – made it bearable. Her hand slid down her belly and she soothed another jab from the baby within. They were building a new family. ‘You sure you don’t want to find out the baby’s sex today, when we have the ultrasound?’ Hana did feel a little guilty she’d suggested they wait.
He shook his head. ‘I waited all my life for you, I can wait to know more of our baby.’
She snorted. ‘Twenty-four years is not all your life.’
‘Ah, wife, I’ve only been alive for a year now.’
Hana laughed. ‘Your big sister would not believe how romantic you’ve become.’
Jock blinked. ‘Which reminds me. How come Ava didn’t get in until yesterday morning? I thought her flight came in the night before?’
‘She had delays,’ Hana said serenely. ‘She should be home after seven-thirty this morning, and she has two more nights, so don’t make a noise while she’s sleeping or she’ll kick us out.’
Jock’s pale brows rose. ‘We’re going home tomorrow, anyway. But she can’t kick us out. It’s Mum’s house.’
Hana poked his shoulder. ‘Sometimes you are so pedantic. And it’s almost seven and we have to be at the ultrasound by nine. I’m getting up.’
A big, calloused hand slid caressingly around her wrist and tugged gently. ‘Do you have to?’ Then he said very softly, as he kissed her, ‘Life’s too short.’
Two hours later, Hana’s phone light flashed beside her and she reached over and lifted it from her handbag.
Happy ultrasound. Having sleepover again with hunk from plane. Turns out he’s a doctor from ED. Not expecting forever, but today is very, very good. See you back on Setabilly. Xx A
As she read the message, Hana’s eyebrows crept up and her lips curved. She shot a glance at Jock, who was flicking through a magazine in the hospital waiting room. Her voice remained serene as she shared chosen parts of the message. ‘Ava’s staying at a friend’s today. She wishes us fun at the ultrasound and might not see us before we leave tomorrow. She’ll see us next week.’
Jock shifted his eyes to her. ‘Which friend?’
Hana studied the message, keeping her eyes fixed there. ‘I don’t know this one. She has lots of friends.’ Hana was saved from further creative sidestepping by the receptionist calling her name.
They both stood, and when she took Jock’s hand his fingers shook slightly and she realised he was nervous. She’d discovered that men, especially big, strong ones like her husband and her brother, didn’t like hospitals. Even ones that showed them cute 3D pictures of their baby. But she understood that the base hospital was a necessary part of life. Especially when you were pregnant with your first baby in the centre of Australia. There was no use having a birth problem out with the cattle, even if your sister-in-law was a midwife and your mother-in-law a nurse. And then there was Mim, the matriarch of them all who had handled an inconceivable number of isolated incidents in the fifty years she’d lived there.
Nope. Hana would come into Alice Springs when her time was near, they’d stay in town like all remote women did, and wait close to the hospital for their baby to arrive. Then they would celebrate back among the wide-open spaces she was growing to love once her baby was safe in her arms.
Hana felt surrounded not just by her husband’s love, but by strong women, and since she’d been pregnant, even her no-nonsense mother-in-law had softened a bit. Luckily, Hana had the ability to not be fazed by the forthright Stella. Jock was her dream man, and she knew that the love of her life would be a dream dad. She couldn’t wait.
Chapter Nine
Ava
The last thing Ava had expected when she’d agreed to the three shifts at Alice Springs was to sleep over at Zac’s for all three days before work.
But she had. By the third day, her mouth held a secret smile and her cheeks had a glow about them that didn’t have much to do with the midwifery job she loved.
The polished floor in the maternity hallway looked like a deep, dark pool as she trod silently up the hall at the start of her last shift. The door had just shut behind the evening staff and the yellow Dolphin torch in her hand shone a path of white light on the shadowed floor as she confirmed that intravenous infusions were working correctly, attended to observations that needed to be done, and checked on sleeping mums and babies. She liked the serenity of night on the ward, be it sensible or dramatic like it had been the first night with Zac.
Zac. She smiled to herself.
A baby’s wail drifted towards her and a call bell pinged from one of the mothers on the ward. She moved swiftly down the dim corridor, humming softly. She also loved it when the maternity ward enjoyed a rush of babies.
Every room had a mum and baby tonight – even the two- and four-bed wards were full – which meant the chances of sitting down would be slim, but the night would fly as new mums soaked in the secrets of the night and were initiated into the realm of snatching sleep between feeds.
She’d met some of these mums earlier when she’d visited them in the Indigenous communities hundreds of miles in all directions from Alice Springs. Outreach midwifery visits meant Ava connected with women on their country, answering their questions, sharing advice. She also carried a heart-rate doppler to listen to the unborn babies, measuring tapes to measure bellies and babies’ growth, blood-pressure machines and tools to take pathology specimens to send back to Alice Springs.
For the mums, it meant they could cut down on travel hours to see their doctor or midwife. When they did have to come into town, they would hopefully see the midwife they’d met on their home ground if she was back in her rotation in Alice. Or, if an illness or complication cropped up during the pregnancy, they would come into Alice early and be admitted to wait on the ward or in the accommodation near the hospital, and Ava or one of her colleagues would see them there.
Often, the trip to the hospital a couple of weeks
before the birth meant a poignant wave to the woman’s family and a lonely outback bus ride that would take hours to reach Alice Springs – so the idea that the women would know their midwife was a reassuring one.
Sharing the births of the outreach patients, and the connection she felt with these strong Indigenous women, represented everything Ava had moved into midwifery for. The births were gentle, often with older wise aunties or grandmothers in attendance. What’s more, the deliveries were unhurried and driven by the mother’s wishes for how she wanted to birth, despite having to travel to Alice Springs and waiting there for the day to arrive.
Considering the calm, beauty and rhythm of these births, Ava wasn’t the only one who wished these babies could be born on the country of each woman and her family. As long as everything went smoothly, of course. Which it didn’t always do. Having the backup of medical science came in handy way too often, and Ava couldn’t see an alternative to coming into a centre of high acuity for these remote women. Every settlement needed backup for emergencies, which just wasn’t possible.
With amusement, she realised that now when she thought of medical backup, she thought of Zac. Her sexy city doc. In a perfect world, she and Zac could run a flying squad for outreach maternity, like the obstetric heroes had in the 1930s for home births in the United Kingdom. Except in Australia, distances meant they really would have to fly in the air and swoop down on isolated settlements. It was a nice dream though. A pipe dream. And as things stood at this time, it simply wasn’t going to happen.
Which led to something else that might not happen. Despite the fact that she’d spent the last few days with Zac, today her Alice Springs midwifery shifts ended and she would travel to her last placement before she took holidays. Last night, for the first time since they’d hooked up, Zac had mentioned he could fly to Uluru on the weekend to see her at the Yulara clinic. The question was, would he actually arrive there so she could introduce him to her favourite place in the world? Or would something crop up to prevent it?
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who felt they had something momentous happening between them. Was she dreaming that he looked at her with a special light in his eyes whenever their paths crossed at work?
Another call bell rang and she slipped into Kareena’s room where her baby had begun to howl with distress. Kareena’s pale face looked drawn with weariness, even in the dim light, as she rocked her new son without any reduction in noise. Her mum snored loudly on the corner sofa. Kareena sniffed when she saw Ava, and a tear trickled down her cheek. ‘I’m no good at this,’ she whispered.
‘You’re perfect. Just tired. And your baby doesn’t know the rules yet.’ Ava held out her hands and Kareena passed the baby over with relief. ‘You’re exhausted. How about I take him for half an hour? I’ll rock him while you have a power nap. You’ll be surprised how little time you need to feel better.’
‘Thanks, Ava. That would be good.’
Ava helped her to the toilet and back, checked Kareena’s tummy when she returned to bed to see that her uterus was still firm, and then carried the newborn down to the nursery to change his nappy and discuss reasonable sleep patterns with him.
The nursery, a long, dimly lit room with the unattended radio chatting away in the corner, held two recliner rockers, a baby bath and a bench. In the past, all the babies would spend most of the night down here with the midwives and be taken out at regimented feed times to their sleeping mums. However, in these enlightened times of demand feeding and babies rooming in with mothers, most nights it was only used by the midwives when exhausted mothers needed half an hour of down time for a brief nap and babies needed a one-on-one with their midwife.
‘Now listen here, young man, your mummy is tired,’ Ava whispered as she swiftly undid his nappy, wiped the meconium from his bottom, and pinned a new nappy in place. ‘You need your arms wrapped and a good burp. Then you can close your eyes and go to sleep.’ She patted his bottom in a slow, steady rhythm. ‘Then I’ll tuck you back into your bed beside your mum because you’ve had a big day, too.’
She began a thorough check of his observations, ensuring nothing was out of the ordinary that could be upsetting him. Once he was wrapped and settled, she carried him back to his mum’s room and tucked him into his cot. She stood quietly in the dark and rocked the little wheeled cot back and forth until he was asleep. Kareena’s breathing sounded deep and untroubled. Her mum still snored and Ava grinned as she left the room to return to the desk to complete her notes.
The clock hands seemed to spin towards morning, until finally dawn arrived with another pink sunrise and a sense of promise. She hoped. She waved goodbye until next time to the early-morning staff, agreed to look out for a young woman of unknown gestation of pregnancy from up north who had slipped through the midwifery caseload system and was supposedly in Yulara now, and opened the door to greet the promise of Zac waiting for her.
He was there. Zac stood tall and solid against the wall, idly swinging his car keys, looking so much better than he had three days ago, despite another night in emergency.
This time when she greeted him, they were given a few raised eyebrows as night staff from other wards walked past, but Zac just smiled at them and took her hand. He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them before tucking her arm into his. Ava hugged that to herself and tried not to plaster herself against him in a declaration of ‘mine’.
She raised her large bag in her other hand. ‘I brought breakfast cereal and toast to celebrate the end of night shift and thought we’d have a picnic somewhere special – oh, I don’t know … in bed?’
She watched his eyes turn hot, and darken to almost black. Her belly kicked as he smiled that slow, devilish smile. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, ‘No restaurant? No waiting for a meal when what I really want to do is kiss you? What a fantastic idea.’
Especially as they only had the morning before she had to leave. I’m a basket case, Ava thought. But so was he.
They both quickened their pace and were laughing and practically running by the time they reached the car. She felt like she was sixteen, not twenty-five, and couldn’t wait for Zac to get into the car and drive. She liked this extravagance of staying in his apartment at the hotel – no housework, lots of conversation, and a gorgeous man who wanted to meet her needs, while she met his. It was such a shame that it had to end.
Just before three, after she’d fallen into a deep sleep beside Zac for almost six hours, Ava slowly opened her eyes. As she lay there, she remembered this room from that first morning – was it only four days ago? This time the room was shrouded in darkness from the pulled curtains, so essential for daytime sleepers.
No chink of light entered today except from the clock, the green numbers telling her she needed to go. She sighed. If she wanted to get to Uluru before dark, she needed to leave now, and if she closed her eyes for a snooze she’d be driving in the dark. So she slipped from the bed and padded across to the bathroom, gathering her things to pack silently behind the closed door.
Which was a good thing because she needed to prove to herself by saying goodbye to Zac that he was not as necessary to her as breathing. She still didn’t know if the craziness between them would falter now that she was leaving Alice. They wouldn’t finish work together, meet in emergencies, or sleep in the same bed. But they’d made tentative plans – that he’d visit. Plans that she had no control over. All she could do now was wait to see if those plans would come to fruition. It really was outrageous to think of the depths to which she would miss this man after so short a time.
Ava slipped out the door of the hotel and across the car park to her car, which she’d moved here yesterday in preparation for the trip today. But once inside, after winding down the windows to let out the heat, she sagged against the seat. Instead of starting the car, she phoned her sister-in-law. Hana would be back at her little house on Setabilly, which was just out of sight of the main homestead to give the newlyweds privacy. Ava wished she could t
ransport herself there for an hour, because she desperately needed to talk to Hana about Zac, and Hana could keep a secret. A phone call was the next best thing.
‘Hey, Hana.’
‘Hey. Sneaky Ava.’ She could hear the laugh in Hana’s voice. ‘Are you still “sleeping over”?’
‘I was. I’m just about to drive down to the medical centre at Yulara township.’ Her voice wobbled unexpectedly.
‘You okay?’ Of course Hana would pick that up. Intuition was her strong point. ‘Feeling sad about leaving your new friend?’
‘Zac.’
‘Is Zac short for something?’
Ava laughed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘And that’s okay, too,’ Hana was quick to reassure her. ‘You have all the time in the world to find out because I knew immediately Jock was for me. Instant attraction.’
‘Attraction doesn’t cover it,’ Ava said. ‘We exploded.’
‘And lucky you. Things are pretty explosive my way, too.’
‘Give my love to my brother, then,’ Ava teased. ‘How was the ultrasound?’ The medical reports arrived on the ward for filing into the mothers’ charts but she had resisted the temptation to check the report herself, which was not easy considering she’d never had a niece or nephew before and it was all pretty exciting. She surprised even herself sometimes with her self-control.
‘Excellent, apparently. He or she is growing well. Due date of birth still on track.’
‘That’s wonderful. Is the baby moving well?’
‘Playing football.’
They both laughed and Ava could feel her tension ease. Yes, she’d needed to hear Hana’s voice. She’d always wanted a sister, and Hana had slipped unerringly into that warm and wonderful spot. ‘Awesome. I’m about to head off. It’ll be good to see Denise.’ Ava’s best friend, Denise, always offered a warm welcome.
‘She’ll be glad to hear you’ve broken the drought with Zac.’
The Desert Midwife Page 5