The Desert Midwife

by Fiona McArthur

  He nodded. ‘I have. George has been to see me already and I can leave today. He thinks going with you is a better idea than staying on my own at the hotel, and he’d prefer I didn’t fly back to Sydney yet because my parents are in Greece for a couple of weeks.’

  She felt her heart lift. He was coming.

  ‘But I still think it’s an imposition on you.’ She could hear the hesitancy in his voice.

  ‘It’s no imposition if you’d like to come.’ She kept her voice light, though the idea that his parents knew at least her name now made her feel anxious. She’d been driving when their son had almost been killed.

  ‘Though I’d better tell you now in case you change your mind – Mum wants you sleeping in the homestead so she can watch you.’

  His mouth opened and shut.

  She grimaced. ‘That conversation went as expected. I suggested you’d want a cabin and your privacy but was howled down because you “need watching”.’ She shrugged. ‘You could stay a couple of days in the house and then move out. I gave up trying to reason with her.’

  To her surprise, he didn’t seem fazed. ‘She seems a strong-willed woman.’ She could hear the smile in his voice, which reassured her.

  She couldn’t stand this any more. ‘I’m leaving at twelve, so yes or no?’ She had a pretty good poker face for work and she hoped it was doing its job now because her stomach was twisted in knots.

  ‘If you’re sure it’s no imposition, then yes, please. I’ll be ready at twelve. George picked up my things and checked me out of my hotel.’

  Ava tried not to sag with relief. ‘Thank you.’ Now she really wanted to throw her arms around him. She’d better get out of here before she made him think she’d be offering inappropriate gestures of affection if he went with her.

  ‘You’ve made me happy. I’ll be back in a couple of hours then, at twelve.’ She smiled blindly in his direction and bolted to the stairwell, where, after trotting down to a landing, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Who knew that would have been so hard and so fraught? She just hoped she was doing the right thing for both of them, because if this didn’t work it was going to be hell for her. She really hoped these obstacles they’d encountered were not fate trying to warn her.

  At twelve exactly, Ava pulled up at the entrance to the hospital. Zac appeared at the front steps looking pale but with the tilted smile she remembered from the plane, and she reassured herself that she wasn’t doing anything that was going to hurt her more than she already had been.

  She jumped out and hurriedly opened the passenger door for him. ‘You look like death warmed up,’ she teased, although she was questioning whether he was actually well enough to travel four hours in a car. Especially after the last time she’d been driving.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Zac eased his long legs into the front of the vehicle. He glanced wryly at her as he settled, and the nurse who had followed him out handed Ava his bag.

  ‘Packing and getting himself sorted took a bit. You sure you’ll be right with him? What if he faints on you?’ The nurse, Jodie, was an agency nurse Ava had done a few shifts with.

  ‘I guess he’s better with me than alone in a hotel room here. If he deteriorates I’ll phone RFDS for advice.’ This was her one extravagance – she always carried a satellite phone.

  Jodie nodded and stepped back. ‘He’s a nice guy – it’s a shame he’s sick. Say hello to the mums and bubs at the community.’ She looked a bit wistful. ‘Enjoy.’

  ‘Thanks, Jodie.’ The nurse waved as she turned away.

  Enjoy, Ava thought with a pang, as she buckled her seatbelt and glanced at her passenger. He stared straight ahead, his profile strongly defined as if he were clenching his teeth. Which made her ask, ‘Are you in pain?’

  He didn’t turn. ‘Only from hoisting myself on you.’

  She laughed softly and turned back to the road as if the bitumen held a world of fascinating sights. Without looking at him she said, ‘You can change your mind now. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck on an isolated cattle station surrounded by red earth, mountain ranges and bossy women.’

  She tried not to hold her breath in case he did just that – underlining the fact that he must be wondering if he was doing the right thing in trusting her. A woman he didn’t remember. She grimaced at that. The one positive was that it had been recommended by his doctor.

  What was it about this man that had made her put herself at risk like this? The feelings inside her were too big for the occasion now that it was all one-sided. She knew he didn’t feel the same urge she had to reach across and touch his cheekbone to reassure herself he was fine.

  She had to believe everything would work out. If it didn’t it wouldn’t be for want of her trying.

  She pointed to the floor. ‘There are two rehydration drinks and some muesli bars in the cool bag beside your feet.’

  He raised his brows with a slightly mocking smile. ‘Thanks. You’ve packed my playlunch?’

  That sounded more like her Zac and she smiled at him. ‘Cheeky blighter. I’m keeping you hydrated and your glucose levels up. This way there’ll be less chance I’ll have to phone a friend to save you.’

  He gave her his heart-melting smile at that and she was lost as her cheeks heated. ‘Ready?’

  Zac shifted in his seat to look at her properly. ‘Yes. Though I’m still not sure why you agreed to let me lump myself on you in this state. Doesn’t seem fair for your holidays.’

  ‘I know.’ She threw up her hands, pretending horror, before she started the vehicle. ‘Crazy. But your sparkling company grew on me in just a week and I’m hoping to find that again,’ she said lightly. She was still a little surprised he’d agreed to come. ‘I’m sure you’d do the same for me if our roles were reversed.’ She wasn’t, but it was a standard answer she used when people tried to thank her for an act of kindness.

  ‘True.’ And he gave her another singularly sweet smile that reminded her she’d liked this guy on first sight. Loved him by day two. And maybe that smile was why she’d been drawn to Zac. That, and seeing Zac’s genuine caring and compassion for the young, the old and the staff, despite the maelstrom of a busy ED and maternity department. But he didn’t remember any of that.

  He said, ‘I looked up your family station on my phone and I’d like to at least pay the tariff for accommodation on the web page. Lack of finances isn’t a hardship I suffer from.’

  She opened her mouth to refuse and then stopped herself. She guessed she’d want to do the same. Charity sucked. And her family could use the money. ‘I invited, so you don’t have to. But if you’d prefer to pay, then no problem. You can do it online later.’

  It was funny how hard that had been to say, which was probably why she was a midwife and not a businesswoman.

  The awkwardness passed as she pulled into traffic. ‘We’re all looking forward to you coming.’

  ‘It was good of your family to drop in yesterday.’

  ‘My mother is tough. As is my grandmother.’

  ‘And yet they both look so sweet. I’ll look forward to knowing them better. And you.’

  You do know me, she ached to say. She stared at the road, but in her peripheral vision she could still see his broad shoulders resting back against her passenger seat. Could detect the tang of his aftershave, a mix of wood and citrus, and feel the heat from his big, rangy body a foot away from hers. He was her man, a man whose bone structure, musculature and skin she knew intimately.

  Taking him with her had better work.

  ‘Is Uluru near your station?’ he asked, and Ava thought, Thank you. A welcome interruption.

  ‘About seventy kilometres. Mount Conner is closer and also impressive.’

  ‘I feel ripped off that I’ve been to the centre and I don’t remember any of it.’

  Now there was a nice, safe topic, and Ava grabbed the opportunity. ‘We can drive out when you’re feeling up to it. I do the base walk around Uluru as often as I can. I start after sunrise and it takes m
e about three hours, but I love the different facets. The folds and the angles in morning light, and the up close and personal is less populated with tourists at that time.’ She thought about the moments just leaning against the smooth granite, feeling the vibration in her aura. He’d think she was a crackpot.

  He leaned back in his seat and said quietly, ‘I must do that one day. How long is the base walk?’

  ‘Nearly ten kilometres around.’ She glanced quickly at him. ‘Maybe give yourself a couple of weeks before you do. I hike the base most times I work down there. It’s good for my soul.’ She shrugged a little self-consciously. ‘I see something different every time. And it’s good exercise. Bit different to a gym, I imagine.’

  ‘I like the gym.’ He half laughed. ‘But I’ll have to go back to see what you see before I return to Sydney.’

  Her confidence took a hit. Of course he was going back. He remembered nothing about his promise to do what was necessary for their relationship to work.

  After a few minutes of silence, awkward for him and tense for her, she said, ‘Before the accident, you told me you went to Weipa last month. That’s one of the places I’d like to do a stint. They say it’s an amazing flight into the town.’

  He blew out a breath as if to loosen the sudden tension between them.

  ‘Weipa …’ He paused. ‘I remember that. It was nothing like I expected. Nothing I’d done before in Sydney. Which was what I wanted after my wife died.’ He turned to look at her and she briefly met his eyes. ‘I’m guessing I told you about that?’

  She nodded and eased the grip she had on the steering wheel. And his honesty, again, eased the ache in her heart for what she might lose. He too was trying.

  ‘Flying into Weipa is spectacular.’ He stared straight ahead with the slightest smile on his face, and she could tell he had shifted his thoughts to that flight.

  She was glad. Of course the loss of his wife made him hurt and clam up, and also feel guilty that he’d had some sort of relationship with her so soon after his Roslyn had died. And getting him to talk was for her benefit, too – she loved the sound of his voice. Unfortunately, she loved a lot of things about him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zac

  Zac glanced at the profile of the woman beside him. He didn’t know her, but he had to admit he was attracted. Hopefully he hadn’t slept with her. Surely he wouldn’t have – it was too soon after Roslyn’s passing.

  It seemed they’d developed a friendship. A strong rapport, he could feel that. Ava looked capable – according to the other nurses, she was supposedly super skilled at emergency midwifery and nursing – and from her point of view, it must be awkward that she had a man in her car who had completely forgotten her. From his point of view, it was a little hard to believe he’d actually got close enough that she felt responsible for him. Maybe even moved on her a little. He ran his finger around his collar at the thought.

  Speaking of moving … ‘Have you ever been a dancer?’ he asked, more to distract himself than her.

  ‘You’ve said that before.’ She smiled at the road ahead as if he’d said something amusing. Good, then. His tense shoulders relaxed a little in relief.

  ‘I did actually promise to tell you about that. So, when I was five, I fell in love with ballet. I dreamed of it, I thought ballet dancers were princesses and I wanted to be one sooo badly my mother sent away for DVDs of ballet tuition because I wanted to learn. To expect to find a ballet teacher would be impractical on a cattle station four hours from Alice Springs. Anyway, I used to spend hours practising in front of the TV and would follow the steps. My grandfather fixed a ballet barre to the wall in the house. I haven’t danced for ages but I loved it for years.’

  Wow, a torrent of words. He sat there watching the expressions cross her face like clouds across the sky on a windy day. Then blinked at his own poetic thoughts. Good grief.

  She looked across at him for the briefest moment and he saw her shrug away a tinge of embarrassment. ‘You seem to think it shows.’

  ‘A dancer in the middle of Australia is taking me to her home.’ He sat up straighter. ‘Life is very strange.’

  He heard her breathe in and hold it for a moment. As if she was going to say something and wasn’t sure. Then she said, ‘I’m taking you home because I hope that spending time together will bring back your memory. But I won’t harass you. If it doesn’t work out I can accept that, too. Until we get to that point, well, we can look after you properly and show you the outback.’

  He was impressed with her level tone, and his mouth kinked upwards. ‘Thank you. I know where I stand with you. Nothing airy-fairy about Ava.’

  ‘Except the dancing,’ she said, and he could see the dimple – the cute dimple – at the side of her smile. The tension between them had lessened again, and he was glad.

  ‘So you’re a legendary midwife, I’m told. Do you always work in Alice?’

  ‘Not that legendary. I work for the Alice and Elsewhere Nursing Agency. Most times I travel between Alice Springs and Katherine communities as a midwife, but I work as a nurse as well.’

  ‘I think the staff on the ward had a vested interest in me remembering you. They all had a tale about you and some medical drama in the outback.’

  Her cheeks turned pink and he smiled. She said, ‘They exaggerated.’

  She wasn’t used to compliments. He didn’t know why he found that endearing, but he did. ‘I don’t think people out here are into exaggeration. There’s some major respect held for you.’

  She lifted her chin at that. ‘That’s very kind of you to say.’

  He studied the way she kept her eyes on the road. Avoiding his? ‘So, where and how did you gather all that respect and experience at such a young age?’

  ‘Right.’ She made a rude sound. Obviously, she was not taking his sincere compliments seriously. ‘You sound like an old man. How old do you think I am?’

  He studied her dusting of freckles. Such smooth, unlined skin. The vibrancy that was inherent in her seemed to shine. ‘Twenty-five?’

  ‘Spot-on. So, five years since graduation, you get experience.’

  ‘True, but you don’t always get respect and deference. The staff at Alice love you. Jade came to see me and we talked about that crazy first night in the ER. She thinks the sun shines out of you.’

  ‘Bull.’ She tossed her head, still not taking her eyes off the road. He liked the way she drove. Just under the speed limit, both hands on the wheel, scanning ahead and watching for animals and potholes, yet she was relaxed.

  ‘They’re a good crew,’ she commented. ‘But that’s not love. They like me because I do the night duty they don’t want to do. And I know where everything is and how it works. That’s always good for making friends. I know how to troubleshoot the machinery and monitors and follow procedure and guidelines. I offer to help out when I can. It’s just common sense when you don’t work there all the time, and I read the communication book so I know what’s going on. It’s not hard.’

  It’s the extra stuff, he thought. Communication would be important to her, and collaboration. Getting the best out of other people. Anyone who worked on their own or worked remotely in communities had to know how to communicate and collaborate and demonstrate respect for others. He couldn’t look away. He should turn his head, look out the window, but he couldn’t. Was he remembering or was he just thinking there had to be risks in her job with the isolation between outposts? Car trouble, weather issues, tiredness, travelling as a single woman. He wondered how long she thought she could do it for. The concept left him unsettled with wisps of a dormant, protective instinct he didn’t know he had.

  She said, ‘I know they liked your work in ED and maternity as well, even if you don’t remember it.’

  There was something about her that touched him. On a different level to anyone he knew. But he didn’t understand how he could have been so thoughtless, to expect her not to be hurt when he left Central Australia. A relationship betwee
n them would never work. What had he been thinking, trying to get involved with her?

  Now, by forgetting her – even though he couldn’t help the amnesia – he’d hurt her, and that wasn’t his intention either. He was hopeless at not hurting women, wasn’t he? He’d hurt Roslyn in the worst possible way.

  ‘I’m sure my memory will come back,’ he said, but he wasn’t really. He shook off his intensity in the guise of resettling himself in the seat, then he turned slightly towards her so he was primed to amuse her. She deserved that. ‘I was going to talk about Weipa.’

  ‘Yes. Tell me about it.’

  ‘I always wanted to be a storyteller, with people sitting around listening to my tales.’ His wife had rolled her eyes and gone off to repair her make-up whenever he’d started one of his stories, but he’d drawn kids and older people to laugh with him. He hoped Ava laughed.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Tell me a story about Weipa. For some reason, the idea of flying into the Top End like that captures my imagination.’

  He marshalled the memory of that morning when he’d flown to the top of Australia for his first outreach locum. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the memory. It wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. And it was nice to have some memories. Or maybe that was the audience.

  ‘So, imagine you are flying into Weipa with me. It’s bumpy through the humidity and the clouds, and then you soar in over a ridge that opens up onto a river delta with a forever amount of red dirt and grey-green shrubs and trees.’ He paused. ‘Got it?’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Okay. There’s a gleam off the water. Apparently it often looks like a deep steel grey, like the day I landed, and there are islands in the delta and outcrops of rocks catching shade. And the borders from the mining demarcations look stark and harsh against the curves of the landscape, despite the areas where they’re attempting the regeneration of the land.’

  ‘The water glitters over Albatross Bay with the angle of the sun when you fly over the railway bridge above the river, and the plane completes the figure-of-eight shimmy it needs to do to approach the strip. Then you see the Mapoon community on the tip, a dot on the peninsula surrounded by ocean, then closer to the ground you see the height of the termite mounds near the airfield, the green of pandanus palms, and the shine of beach hibiscus trees.’ He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘We’ve landed. Are you okay?’