A Month to Marry the Midwife

by Fiona McArthur

  His fingers clenched by his sides. No wonder she had trust issues and didn’t want to ask any man for help. Even himself. He wasn’t a violent man but after what they’d shared the last two days the idea of someone abusing Ellie’s trust to that extent devastated him. And made him furious. But in the end it wasn’t any of his business unless he was looking for something long-term—which wasn’t his intention. Or was it? Hell, he didn’t know. Did he even have a choice?

  * * *

  Ellie spent the next five days rearranging antenatal schedules and managed to book a different pregnant woman for antenatal appointments for every morning during the time Sam would be around.

  They had two normal births, one on Faith’s shift and one on Trina’s, so Ellie was spared having to call Sam in. She could only be glad the babies were being kind to her. But every afternoon when she went home the house was empty, where before it had been welcoming.

  Sam came on Wednesday afternoon for his father’s surfboard and she gave it to him, refused to talk and didn’t invite him in.

  On Thursday Myra cornered her and told her Sam had asked her to see if Ellie would change her mind. Spend some time with him. They had their first ever disagreement when both women were so determined to change the other’s mind about what was right.

  By Friday Ellie knew she needed to get away or she would make herself sick, so as soon as she finished work she took herself off availability for call-backs and loaded her car.

  Ellie felt the need to abandon her cottage and head to a different world. It had everything to do with avoiding a certain visitor who just might drop in again.

  She didn’t know where to go, so she drove north to the Gold Coast, where she could find a cheap hotel and just hibernate for two nights in a place that nobody knew her.

  She stayed in her room all day Saturday and drove back Sunday via the base hospital where two of her patients were still inpatients.

  She did her own visiting, with a quiet chat in the big antenatal ward with Marni, who was going home tomorrow. Bob arrived not long after she did, and she was pleased to hear that the young mum’s contractions had settled down, and Bob had painted inside their house while Marni was in hospital so she didn’t have to be exposed to the smell of new paint.

  She showed Ellie the quilt she was making the baby, and there was something about Marni’s determined optimism that made her feel ashamed. Marni had explained that when she was bored she sewed another little animal onto the patchwork cot-blanket, pouring love and calmness into it, determined to do everything asked of her to keep her pregnancy on track.

  After Marni, Ellie visited the postnatal ward area, where Annette sat happily with her twins, who were being star patients and were almost ready to go home.

  ‘Still perfect?’ Ellie grinned at the two sleeping bundles and the relaxed mum sitting with a magazine in her lap.

  ‘They have their moments. Rosebud is the impatient one, so has to be fed first, while Thorn needs a bit of encouragement to keep at it.’

  ‘So they are still how they started out, then.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Both women laughed.

  ‘How is that gorgeous Dr Sam?’

  ‘Fine.’ Ellie felt her face freeze, as if all the muscles had suddenly stopped working. ‘He’s here for another week and then he’s gone.’ Her voice was bright. ‘Then I guess we’ll have another new locum. Did you know his father was here first? He was a surfer, though I’m not sure how good his surfing will be for a while, because he broke his arm. That’s why his son came.’

  ‘So Dr Sam’s not coming back?’

  ‘No.’ It would be better if Sam never came back. She suspected every time he came it would hurt more to keep saying goodbye to him. ‘He has a high-flying job in Brisbane. He was only doing everyone a favour.’ Including her.

  On the drive home she thought about her dilemma. She’d had sex with a man she’d known for only two weeks by that point, and who was just passing through. Maybe she even understood her friend Faith, who had never said she regretted the man who’d come, disappeared and left her with a baby. She’d never been close to understanding before.

  Sex. She grimaced and reminded herself that that was all it was. Then her sensible voice returned. That was okay. She was a grown-up. Afterwards she could go back to how it had been before and concentrate on work.

  * * *

  On Monday morning when Sam walked in to the maternity ward the Ellie he found was the woman from three weeks ago. White shirt buttoned to the neck, grey eyes serene and cool, her manner very businesslike.

  ‘Good morning, doctor.’

  His temper was less than sunny after being frustrated all weekend. He’d thought if he just waited until Saturday morning they could sort it all out. He’d taken croissants and blueberry yoghurt, as she’d liked that last time, and then had stood there like an idiot until he’d realised she’d left. He’d rung Myra each morning and afternoon all weekend to check in case she’d returned.

  Now he stared with narrowed eyes as she stood officiously in front of him. ‘Good morning, Ellie.’ He stressed her first name, disappointed but not surprised this ice maiden didn’t resemble the woman he had held in his arms all weekend just over a week ago. He was back to square one, and despite his best efforts there was no breaking through her barriers. Maybe he should just give up.

  They had five days to go. Then he’d be gone. He could lose himself in his work again. Treat it as an interlude that had shown him he could finally care for another woman. But he wasn’t so sure he could care for one as much as he’d grown to care for Ellie.

  * * *

  On Friday morning, Sam’s last day there, Ellie went back to the beach. She’d been avoiding it all week in case Sam was there in the mornings surfing but she missed the peace she gained from her daily walk. Peace was at a premium at the moment and she needed it before facing today.

  It had rained last night, and the ocean was too rough for surfers out there. As she trod down the path even the frogs weren’t penetrating the gloom she was wrapped in. At least she had Sam to thank for losing the majority of her phobia. She wasn’t going to touch one but the croaking barely bothered her now—there were worse things that could happen than frogs. Such as Sam going and never seeing him again.

  She reached the sand, slipped off her footwear and stood for a moment. Gazing out. A new weather pattern was coming in. More high winds and rough seas. She breathed in deeply and let the crash of the waves on the cliffs across the bay penetrate, feeling the cool white sand between her toes, the turbulent, curving waves tumbling onto themselves and running up the sand to kiss her better. The biggest waves made a cracking noise as they slid all the way up to her to foam around her toes then crackle into the sand as it drank in the water and the cries of the gulls overhead. This was why she lived here. Because it made her strong.

  Yes, it was sad that Sam was going, more than sad, but it was good as well. It would never have worked and what he’d given her in the two days they’d been together was something she could hold to her heart in the years to come. She wished him happiness with a woman who deserved him. She just wished she could have been that woman.

  Ellie lifted her head and breathed in another gulp of sea air past the stinging in her throat and then she set off along the beach. She would get through today, kiss Sam’s cheek and say goodbye.

  * * *

  Sam knew she was going to kiss his cheek. He didn’t want her platonic guilt. If she wasn’t going to kiss him properly then he didn’t want her to kiss him at all. He stepped back as she moved forward to say goodbye and saw her blink in confusion as he avoided her.

  That’s right, Ellie. Feels bad, doesn’t it, to be knocked back? He didn’t say it but he knew it was there in his eyes. He was still pretty darn angry with her for not fighting for what they might have had.

  �
��Goodbye, Ellie Swift. I wish you a great life with your midwifery centre.’ He turned away quickly because if he didn’t he’d grab her and kiss her until she begged him to stay. But that wouldn’t happen.

  * * *

  He’d driven an hour towards Brisbane when the radio alert of another storm warning jerked him back to sense. Ellie was on the seaboard. Right on the edge of a cliff, to be exact. Her little house would bear the brunt of the storm and he wouldn’t be there to make sure she was all right.

  Not that she’d want him to be there, but suddenly he asked himself why would he drive away from a woman who’d finally made him want to look at the future again? One he wanted to wake up next to for the rest of his life? He loved Ellie. How many times did real love actually come to a man?

  After he’d stepped back from her he’d seen the look of hurt on her face and it came back to haunt him now. What if she was feeling the same pain he was? Wasn’t he as bad as she was for not fighting for what they could have?

  He’d loved Bree, and it had destroyed him when she’d died. But Ellie was right. It hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t know she’d been so unstable that she would take her own life. And he’d lost himself in work.

  If it wasn’t for Lighthouse Bay and Ellie he might be still lost. He could have woken up in thirty years and realised he’d been a shell for decades. He didn’t want to be a shell. He wanted to be the man who held Ellie every night. The man who held the babies she was destined to have with him, and might never have if he kept driving away. He loved her. He wanted her. And he would fight for her.

  He pulled over and turned around. The storm up ahead was flashing lightning across the hills. Great sheets of white light. Ellie was over there somewhere. Alone.

  * * *

  The thunder crashed outside. The scent of ozone filled the air, lighting up the sky all the way out to sea. This storm was more electrical than the other one. She shied away from those memories of the night Sam came, like Millicent had skidded away from the window.

  Myra was gone again and Ellie suspected she had a male friend she was visiting. She even suspected it might be the ‘elder’ Dr Southwell. Good for her.

  But Ellie knew the man she should have fought for was gone. Sam was gone. In her head he was gone. In her heart he was buried under protection so thick she felt like she was walking around inside a big, white cotton-wool ball, adding more layers all week, so that by the time Sam had left this afternoon she could barely hear, she was so distanced from everyone. He’d turned away from her coldly in the end and she deserved that. She’d been a coward and deserved his scorn.

  She wished she’d never ever started this painful process of letting someone else in. Because for the first time in a long time she wondered if, if she’d tried a little bit harder to let go of the past, she just might have had a future. With Sam. Was it too late? Could she contact him through his father? Myra would be all over her like a rash if she asked for Sam’s phone number. Or his flat address. Maybe she could turn up at his flat. Her heart began to pound and she looked down at Millicent. ‘Am I mad to think of it or mad not to do it, cat?’

  She had a sudden memory of Marni, determined to fight for her baby. Shoring herself up with positive actions. Stitching her quilt of love so that she would be ready when the good things happened. Ellie had done the opposite, undermined her own confidence with the past every time Sam broke through her barriers.

  Stop it. Too late, it’s over. She stroked the soft fur between Millicent’s pointy ears.

  She sat up straight. ‘You know what, Milly? It’s not over till the fat lady sings. I’ll find him tomorrow and see if we can at least spend some time together.’ She would try and, if it didn’t work out, then she might just have to get a cat of her own. Maybe a kitten so she could have the full experience of being a mother. Yeah, right. Full experience.

  The knock came in between two claps of thunder and she frowned at the improbability of visitors.

  Then, there was Sam. Standing on the bottom step, his nose level with hers, his dark eyes staring into hers. ‘Can I come in?’ A flash of lighting illuminated them both and a nearby tree exploded into sparks. The explosion made her ears ring and she put out her hand to drag him in.

  ‘Damn it, Sam. You could get killed standing out in that. You’re mad.’ Her heart was thumping at the closeness of the strike and the concept that again she could have got Sam killed by keeping him outside her house.

  Then he was inside, the door was shut and they both stood there, panting, a few inches of air and a huge chasm between them.

  He didn’t seem perturbed about what had almost happened. He just said softly, ‘You haven’t closed the shutters again.’

  She couldn’t believe he was here. As if she’d conjured him. ‘I know. It’s not that windy. And you can’t do it because it’s too dangerous to go out in case the lightning gets you.’ She licked her dry lips. ‘Why are you here, Sam?’

  He was staring down at her. She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes but it was nothing like the one he’d left with today. It was warm, gentle and determined. ‘Can I share the storm with you?’

  Her cheeks were heating. He looked so good. Smelt so good. She knew he would feel so good. ‘That would be nice,’ she said carefully.

  His brows rode up. ‘Nice?’ He put down his coat. ‘It could be more than nice. Because I’ve decided to fight for you.’

  This was all happening way too fast for her to erect the barriers she needed. Hang on—she didn’t need barriers. Her brain was fogging. Softening. Revelling in the fact that Sam was here.

  Sam said, ‘I’m going to wear you down until you say yes.’

  He wasn’t gone. She hadn’t ruined everything. Yet! Then his words sank in. ‘Yes to what?’

  ‘Will you marry me, Ellie? Be my wife. We’ll work out the logistics—our work, your fears, my baggage. But driving away from you today and knowing I wasn’t coming back was the loneliest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I don’t want to do it again. I love you.’

  He loved her. ‘Oh, Sam.’ She loved him. Lord, she loved him so much. She lifted her head. She loved him too much to push him away for a second time. She would just have to break free from the past and be everything Sam needed. For the sake of both their futures. ‘I love you too.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘It was too close, Ellie. We were too close to losing this.’ Then he stepped in and picked her up. Hugged her to him and swung her around. And she laughed out loud. Sam’s arms had her. They both were laughing and then he kissed her, and Ellie knew, at last, that she had found her ‘for ever’ family.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SAM STOOD WAITING, his heart pounding as he watched for the first signs of the bridal car to descend the gravel road to the beach, and he appreciated the grounding effect of the cool sand under his bare feet as he waited for the warmth of the sun. But, more impatiently, he waited for the glowing warmth of the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Where was Ellie?

  The light touch of a hand on his arm broke into his thoughts and he turned with a smile to his father. He saw the old man’s eyes were damp and shadowed with that memory of past sadness, yet glowing with pride too. Happy and sad at the same moment. Sam knew all about that. They both glanced at Sam’s sister as she stood with her Italian friends, back on sabbatical to her old hospital while she attended her only brother’s wedding.

  His dad cleared his throat and said quietly, ‘Your mother would have been so proud of you, son. So happy for you.’

  Sam patted his shoulder. Felt the sinewy strength under his hand and was glad his dad was healed again. ‘She’d be happy for you too. We’ve both been blessed twice with wonderful women.’

  ‘I can see you love your Ellie, Sam.’

  Sam felt his face relax, felt his mind expand with just thinking about her. Felt t
he joy surge up into his chest. Such elation. ‘She’s turned the world on for me, Dad. Ellie, this place, the future.’ He shook his head, still unable to believe his grey life had been hit by a sunburst called Ellie Swift. Soon to be Mrs Southwell. ‘I just wish she’d hurry up and arrive.’

  The first rays of the sunrise struck the cliff in front of them at the exact moment an old-fashioned black saloon descended the steep slope and finally drew up at the place reserved for the bride in the crowded car park.

  The whole town had come out in the dark to wait for the sunrise and for Ellie. The dapper chauffer, not resembling a prawn-trawler captain at all, opened the door onto a long blue roll of carpet that reached all the way across the sand to Sam.

  He helped the two golden bridesmaids in their beautiful sheath dresses, Trina and Faith, and the stately Matron of Honour in a vintage gold dress, his dad’s fiancée, Myra, and then Sam heard the hushed gasp from a town full of supporters as Ellie stepped out in a vision of white with her father’s hand in hers.

  Ellie had been shy about a veil, a white dress, the fact that she’d thought she was a bride before and had been mistaken, but Sam had taken her in his arms and told her his dream...of Ellie on the beach dressed as a bride. Sam had spoken quietly of the pureness of their love, the freshness of their commitment and his desire for her to feel the bride of her dreams—because their life together would be that dream.

  And there she was, drifting towards him, the veil dancing at the sides of her face in the morning breeze, walking a little too quickly in her bare feet as she always did, her eyes on his, her smile wide and excited as she closed the gap between them. She came first, not after the bridesmaids, almost dragging her dad, and Sam was glad, because he could watch her close the gap between them all the way, and he barely saw the three smiling women behind her. He’d told them he wasn’t talking to them anyway—they’d kept his Ellie at Myra’s house last night sequestered away from him. They and her Aunty Dell, back from Western Australia for her only niece’s wedding.