The Midwife's New-Found...

by Fiona McArthur

  She memorised the contours of his face for the time soon when she'd have to leave. 'I believe anyone can start a new life if they are determined.'

  He turned to look at her and there was a glow in his eyes that made her catch her breath. 'Maybe you are destined to change my life.'

  Impossible dream. She lifted her hand and peered at her watch as if to remind herself she needed to leave. Not that the fish would mind if she never went back to the beach to catch them. 'I'm planning on doing a bit more with my life than running around dragging you out of life-threatening situations, Ben.'

  His arms tightened. Even his aura seemed to drift around her like the sea that had almost claimed him. 'But you saved my life so beautifully,' he said.

  The memories rushed back and she shivered. 'Don't joke about it, Ben, please. Today was very close.'

  He stilled and then squeezed her shoulder in comfort and regret for upsetting her again. 'Resuscitation is always frightening. I'm sorry you had to do that, Misty.'

  She forced her mind away from those indelible pictures and closed the subject with finality. 'I think I'll get up.'

  He ignored her statement and tightened his arm around her and lowered his voice so she'd have to strain to hear him. 'So you're a midwife. That would explain the mothering you've been doing.'

  Her neck ached from the strain of wanting to sink into his arm and she gave up. She rested her head back and stared rigidly at the ceiling.

  She blinked. He had stars glued in constellations on the roof. It was amazing, and she imagined they would glow fabulously at night. It would have taken days to create. She frowned. He had too much time on his hands, she thought as she tried to remember what he'd said while she tried to identify the star signs. Oh, yes, midwives and mothering.

  'Known a few midwives, have you?' she said.

  He gave a short mirthless laugh and she was jolted out of her contemplation of his ceiling.

  'In my time.' His voice held self-contempt and she frowned at the disruption to the ambience in the room.

  'I worked in that environment but nothing like you've spoken about,' he said. 'It was in another lifetime and I don't think I could ever go back to that.'

  'You're an obstetrician, then?' That would explain his midwife comment.

  'Was.'

  She let the word lie between them because something told her she'd been privileged to hear even that information. It seemed she'd done the right thing because he went on as if the words were forced out of him.

  'Never going back.'

  She couldn't help it. 'Why?'

  He breathed deeply. 'In our job, sad things occasionally happen and everyone has bad runs. It's funny how something you would normally accept as a tragedy of nature can overwhelm you unexpectedly. That's all.'

  Misty had seen her fair share of sadness but, then, she'd always felt that dealing with loss in midwifery was a privilege to share with the parents. 'I guess it depends on your own life experience how things can affect you.'

  'You don't know how true that is,' he said, and the way the words dragged out of him she decided she wouldn't offer any more comments in case she caused more damage.

  The silence stretched and Misty didn't know whether to change the subject or just wait. After what seemed like an eternity she eased her fingers into his palm and wrapped her hand around his to at least let him know she was aware of his pain.

  At her tentative offer of comfort his fingers stiffened in surprise and then, very slowly, his fingers relaxed in hers. She was glad he hadn't rebuffed her. She sensed he wasn't used to people offering him comfort and it made her want to pull his head down onto her chest and say it was all OK. But she couldn't do that. She didn't even know this man.

  Ben raised his head and laughed softly if somewhat sardonically at his hand in Misty's. 'Imagine you wanting to comfort me.'

  'I don't find that amusing,' Misty said quietly.

  He turned his head and looked at her. His smile softened. 'No, you wouldn't. Because you, dear Misty, are a real person, and I haven't seen your like for a very long time.'

  She let go of his hand. 'Probably because you live in a beach house on a deserted beach,' she said dryly. 'You haven't seen any people. You should get out more.'

  'Actually, I've done all I need to do with my life. I've written a text on postnatal depression and achieved all I was going to achieve. You should probably have left me to drown.'

  Misty felt his words like a vicious jab to the stomach and she drew in a breath. 'Don't ever speak like that again,' she said fiercely.

  She leaned up on one elbow and stared down into his face and glared ferociously, suddenly livid with him. He looked world-wearily amused but she didn't care. This was important.

  'Every life is precious. It is sad not all patients can be saved—but you have been! By me, and that gives me some rights to tell you so. There is a desperate need for skills like yours out in this world. How dare you just fritter them away like a wastrel in your beach house?'

  She barely drew breath she was so angry. 'You were given a new chance on life today, a chance you nearly didn't have. One of the mysteries of the universe is how I found you.' She poked him in the chest. 'I could have drowned trying to save you so don't you even think of letting me down.'

  Misty subsided but she could feel her heart pounding with the agitation of her emotions. She didn't know this man, this person she'd just lectured like some prissy know-it-all, but maybe saving his life did give her some rights because it had needed saying—but now it was horrible because she felt the tears welling as she tried to calm down.

  Ben sighed. 'I'm sorry, Misty. I was being irresponsibly flippant. Everything you say is right. It was a glib and silly comment and I do regret upsetting you.'

  It was his turn to rise on one elbow and look down into her face. She hoped he couldn't see the tears at the corners of her eyes because suddenly she felt weepy and miserable, no doubt from the huge emotions of the day, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

  Ben noticed. He turned her towards him and gathered her close to encircle her body with his arms. 'I'm sorry, mermaid.'

  He pulled her even closer until their cold noses were touching. She could feel his heat between them from her breasts to her hips and again at the knees and his eyes stared into hers, intense and questioning.

  'Where have you come from?' Their noses rubbed. 'Why couldn't I have met you when I was young and idealistic, like you?' He frowned as if it was all beyond his understanding. 'How can there be such emotion and connection between two strangers?'

  She knew just what he meant. 'I don't know,' she whispered as she watched him shake his head and then wince at the discomfort.

  His deep tones caressed her. 'I don't understand, Misty, but I'm very, very grateful. Thank you for saving my life, and putting your precious life at risk to do that. I will always value your gift. Now, hush. It's OK.'

  He kissed away the dampness from her cheeks, feather-touched the end of her nose with his mouth, and finally settled his firm lips on hers. And then it all merged.

  It was there, that destined connection she'd only dreamt of in her bed late at night, and there was no doubting it was a gift he hadn't expected either.

  He pulled back to stare, perplexed and startled, into her face and then his breath merged seamlessly with hers again as he kissed her until his very soul touched a place she'd known she had but had never dared to open.

  He drew her even closer until through the mutual rise and fall of their chests she could feel his heart pound in time to hers. His eyes never left hers as he drew away.

  'Rest. We'll both rest,' he said, then he lay back and stared at the ceiling. 'It's been a big day.'

  What was he doing? Back off, Ben admonished himself as he rested his head back on the pillow. She'd saved his life and here he was trying to ruin hers. How low could he go?

  But what the hell had just happened?

  CHAPTER THREE

  SURPRISINGLY they both slept. W
hen Ben woke up it was dark outside and Misty lay spooned against him like a kitten. He felt enormously better compared to when he'd gone to sleep, and disturbingly aroused.

  When he sat up and glanced back at Misty's sleeping face he felt a spasm in his heart that had nothing to do with almost losing his life. They must have turned at some time in their sleep like an old married couple—but an old married couple who'd never consummated their marriage. He grinned in the darkness. Well, that was a first.

  He slid from the bed before his body got more bright ideas and he slipped into the en suite before she woke up and enticed him beyond reason. She wouldn't have to do much.

  He planted his hands on the sink and stared into the mirror. His eyes stared back sardonically. Down, boy.

  When he ran his hand over the bump on his head he could tell the swelling had almost gone. His chest looked angry in interesting strips but dry from the antibiotic powder Misty had put on.

  When he peered into his eyes his pupils seemed equal and he wasted a couple of seconds trying to see the dilation response before he frowned at the hopelessness of trying to catch a pupil reaction on his own face. Idiot. Of course he couldn't. But anything to stop his mind wandering back into the bedroom next door.

  'Are you OK, Ben?' Misty's voice came through the door and he looked into the mirror to warn himself to behave.

  'Fine, thanks. Be out in a sec,' he said. 'Right after the cold shower,' he finished under his breath.

  When he opened the bathroom door five minutes later she'd straightened the bed and disappeared.

  He found her on the veranda, gazing out over the beach. The moon hadn't risen yet but the sky was lightening on the horizon where it would emerge.

  'It's beautiful when the moon rises out of the sea,' he said as he stopped beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Her neck was taut under his hand and as he rubbed that tender curve he noticed the nervousness she seemed suddenly afflicted with.

  She was having second thoughts on her decision to stay. Well, that was fair enough. Very wise of her.

  Reluctantly, his arm slid from her shoulders and he stepped back. So how could he still feel her warmth against his body as if he still held her? Because he wanted her back against him, that's how.

  She cupped her hands over her upper arms as if to warm herself, and he forced himself not to pull her back into his arms. No doubt she had some boyfriend to rush off to, or she could even be married with a dozen children.

  He smiled to himself at that. Her body hadn't seen a dozen children and she wore no ring. He'd checked those things while holding her as they'd drifted off to sleep. Now, why had he done that?

  He needed space between them or he'd initiate something they'd both regret. 'Would you like a drink?'

  She seemed ridiculously glad he'd asked, making him realise the strain was on both sides, and he felt her follow him back into the house. 'Do you have juice?' she said.

  Even though she walked behind him he could pinpoint her position by how sensitive his skin was. It had never been like that before. Ever.

  This fey, amazing young woman, who had captured his imagination when he'd least expected it, might prove rather difficult to forget.

  'Your "shack" is impressive,' she said in that warm and wonderful voice of hers, but there was a fragile brightness to hide her awareness of the loss of their closeness and he sighed with regret.

  Enough. Stop being self-indulgent, he mocked himself, and forced his voice to lightness. He'd give her a drink and send her on her way. 'If you want to see something really impressive, come and see my refrigerator. It's magnificent. What type of juice would you like?'

  She peered at the selection like a kid in an ice-cream parlour, and he enjoyed watching her while she hesitated.

  He couldn't help the smile in his voice. 'You could have two different juices if you really wanted.'

  Unconsciously his hand lifted to feel the warmth in her cheeks and she darted a startled look at him, embarrassed. So her pale skin still blushed easily. A natural redhead. God, her cheek was like silk under his fingers, just like the rest of her.

  'Mango juice, thanks,' she said quickly. She took the bottle and turned away from him so that his hand fell.

  Ben sighed and closed the wall-sized chrome door, and leaned his forehead against the cold steel for a moment. What was he doing?

  Don't touch her again, you idiot, he thought as he closed his eyes because he couldn't bear to hurt someone again and his life was as complicated as ever.

  He had to tell her to go. That he'd be fine. That it would be better for her if she left. He opened his eyes and turned to face her.

  She wasn't there. The room was empty and the juice stood unopened on the sea chest.

  He walked through to the veranda. She wasn't there either, and he glanced down the stairs. The unmistakable sound of her vehicle door as it closed echoed the emptiness he hadn't realised she'd leave behind. He'd always had that emptiness but it hadn't mattered before. Could he be alone again?

  Suddenly he didn't think he could.

  The diesel engine came to life and he had no control over his feet as they turned to the stairs. The next thing he knew he was beside her Jeep window.

  'Be with me,' he said, and he saw the moment she began to think about accepting and he swore to himself he wouldn't let her down. Please, don't let me hurt her, he prayed, and he couldn't believe that he'd dared to dream again.

  His fingers reached through the window of their own accord and turned the key. The engine died.

  Silence surrounded them, except for the waves on the shore and the gulls overhead…and the pounding in his heart.

  She looked at him with those glorious witch's eyes of hers and he could feel himself drowning, which was ironic considering what the day had held.

  He held out his hand. 'Come with me. Please.'

  She saw there in his eyes the quiet hope that made her wish to be as daring as he was, as positive as he was, that this wouldn't end in futile regrets.

  Misty raised her hand towards his and then stopped.

  What was she doing? She knew what would happen if she went back into the house with him. She wanted it to happen but she needed to think sensibly about this. Safely and non-emotionally after one of the most emotional days she'd ever had. And realized she was terrified. This interlude would end. She longed to burn boats, jump off the cliff to uncertainty and yet they had barely talked. Just felt…and kissed.

  It was an impossible dream. They both had lives, and commitments, and uncertainties, and they'd met this once by the merest chance. She needed to leave before he imprinted himself further on her soul.

  She lifted her fingers to the ignition and the metal felt cold and hard as she turned the key. 'I don't think so. Take care, Ben.' She glanced once more at his face and the expression suddenly stripped from his features as if someone had turned off a light.

  Right decision, she thought, and forced herself to drive away.

  * * *

  Right decision, Ben thought. Sensible girl.

  She was gone and Ben lay alone in his big bed with just the scent of her skin on the pillow beside him and emptiness in his heart as he said goodbye. Sensible, sensible girl.

  The sound of a ringtone filled the room.

  His phone.

  His breath shuddered in his throat as he sat up, and he shook his head at the person on the other end. 'I'll come,' he said into his phone.

  He looked out the window at the rolling ocean and his chin lifted. Impossible dream, he thought, uncannily echoing Misty as he shut his phone and reached for his shirt.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MISTY didn't remember much about the drive to Lyrebird Lake. The memory of Ben in her rear-view mirror watching her go just seemed to get bigger the further away from Ben that she drove. Had she missed the opportunity to experience life and love with someone who could have been the one man for her?

  She'd never be sure and he didn't even know her last name
.

  She stayed the night at a motel, she couldn't even remember which town, and it had been hard to get up that morning and drive further west. But now, as she drove through the wide and tree-lined streets of Lyrebird Lake, her spirits lifted.

  It was time for her to start her new life. Just like Ben needed to. She hoped he would find happiness.

  The car turned into the driveway of her brother's house and she sighed and reached over to turn off the engine. She'd done the right thing. She had.

  'Welcome to Lyrebird Lake.' Misty heard the words and accepted the hug Montana offered. She ignored the feeling that her heart would probably never speak to her again.

  It was wonderful to see her best friend again but there was no doubt the excitement of her new home had dimmed and she hoped Montana didn't notice the effort it took to smile.

  'I bet you didn't see this in our future.' Andy laughed as he also hugged her.

  Her big brother's arms were just what she needed to make her feel strong again. 'There were a lot of things I didn't see,' she said, and tried to smile.

  Andy put her away from him and frowned at her searchingly. 'What's happened to you?'

  'Shh, love,' Montana said, and Misty watched with wry amusement as her friend rested her hand on Andy's arm. 'Let your sister get her breath. We have plenty of time.'

  'Assuming the phone doesn't ring and I don't get called out,' Andy muttered, as he carried Misty's bags into their house and she followed with her arm hooked in Montana's.

  They shared a glance and smiled. Men, the look said, but they both loved his care. 'He's still looking for a locum to share the workload because he won't let me out of his sight until I have this baby,' Montana whispered.

  Montana, a widow at the time of her first baby's birth two years ago, had been alone at a mountain retreat when labour had begun rapidly without warning. Unable to drive any further, Montana had pulled over before she could reach the hospital, and at sunrise had delivered her daughter alone on an escarpment.

  One of Misty's premonitions had urged her brother to search for and find Montana and her new baby. Andy had found more than the two people he'd been looking for. He had found his love. This time Montana's birth experience would be different because Andy would be there for her.