She couldn’t help but wonder how Douglas would have handled having a baby in his life twenty-four hours, seven days a week, as children hadn’t been high on his list of priorities.
Surreptitiously she watched Andy lope across the grass beside her and she strained to hear his one-sided conversation with Dawn.
‘You’re a big girl now, Dawn. Did you enjoy your first flight? You were very brave. You must be Mummy’s daughter because she’s very brave. You are going to love it here.’
I hope so, Montana thought, because she had the feeling that Andy would do everything in his power to look after them and help them settle. If only she didn’t feel disloyal to Douglas it would be all good because she couldn’t help feeling as though she had the opportunity of fresh beginnings here.
As they drove through the town Montana felt even better. The main street was so wide it had huge shady trees planted in the middle of the road and the cars were parked at an angle next to the footpath.
People waved at Andy as he drove and the whole atmosphere was one of enjoyment of life. The buildings were old but restored in heritage greys and blues and she smiled across at Andy who delighted in her obvious enjoyment.
Like the flight had been, settling into Lyrebird Lake proved much easier than she’d anticipated, and Andy was the person who made it so.
The first morning Montana came in to breakfast Andy was there with a welcoming smile and a cup of tea. ‘Your jasmine tea, madame.’
He looked very pleased with himself as he handed her the cup. ‘Perhaps I could cuddle Dawn?’ He tilted his head. ‘If that’s OK with you?’
Dawn had been a little upset overnight, no doubt picking up her mother’s unsettled mood, and she guessed Andy must have heard her.
Her stomach dropped. ‘Did she keep you awake?’
Andy’s forehead crinkled. ‘No. I only heard her for a couple of minutes all night so you must be an awesome mother,’ he teased, and Montana relaxed.
She’d thought the walls seemed pretty thick. Still, it was weird to suddenly share a home with people she barely knew, and she couldn’t help worrying that her new baby would disrupt the household.
Andy had his hands out so she passed Dawn to him and sat down as her daughter semi-grimaced at Andy. ‘Typical. That’s the first smile I’ve seen all morning. She likes you all right.’
‘What have you done to your poor mother, missy?’ Andy admonished Dawn with a teasing finger. Then he glanced across as if to assess Montana’s fatigue.
‘Take it easy today,’ he said. ‘If you’re up to it, we’ll go for a walk along the lake this evening so you know the lie of the land. Otherwise you should be sleeping when Dawn sleeps.’
He was sweet. She’d said the same thing herself to countless women. ‘Who’s the mother here? It’s strange to have someone say something to me that I’m always telling other new mums to do.’
‘Funny that,’ he said with a lopsided grin. ‘Ned is always telling me I coddle my patients.’
When Andy went off to the hospital the house seemed very empty, although Ned and Louisa made sure she had company if she wanted it and encouragement to rest when she needed.
Ned, while supposedly semi-retired, was a white-browed, hyperactive Scotsman who bounced from one task to another with boundless energy.
He ran a clinic every afternoon in a rundown set of consulting rooms at the end of the house, played chess on Tuesdays and Thursdays and was the local Rotary Club president. For fun he carved native animals out of driftwood from the lake and the house was bedecked with his figurines. Sadly, he found it harder with his decreased eyesight for fine detail.
He hobbled a little with his stiff hip, and if he misplaced his glasses—which he did frequently—he could barely read the brand name on the cereal pack, but his diagnostic skills were in no way diminished by his eyesight.
Intuitive and caring, Ned saw through Montana’s façade of calmness and she found herself sharing more with him about her loss of Douglas and her struggle to move on from it than she had with either of her womenfriends.
She wondered if Ned had been equally as healing with Andy. Maybe Ned was the lyrebird that brought healing.
Ned’s housekeeper, Louisa, was a round Yorkshire dumpling of a woman with merry eyes and big breasts that Dawn cuddled into like a pillow from the first moment.
The feeling appeared mutual as Louisa would commandeer Dawn whenever she could and whisk her off to the kitchen to watch while she cooked.
The first evening Montana glanced at the clock to check the time more often than usual, until she realised she’d begun to calculate the time until Andy returned.
It was probably only because she had more time than she’d expected on her hands, although that didn’t account for the little skip in her heart rate when he did walk in.
In fact, he looked so attractive with his easy smile and laughing green eyes when he asked about her day that she couldn’t help her own smile in return.
She glanced across at Louisa and Ned, who seemed to have faded into the distance since his arrival and weren’t paying attention to her and Andy. ‘I haven’t achieved anything. They won’t let me help.’
‘Dawn looks happy.’ He glanced at the couple, who laughed as they peeled vegetables together. ‘No discontent there. You must have achieved something. Come for a walk before tea.’
A walk in the cool of the evening did sound heavenly, Montana thought, and no doubt Dawn would enjoy an outing in the fancy old pram Ned had procured from somewhere.
But surely Andy didn’t need to go out again. Selfish woman, she admonished herself. ‘Don’t you ever sit down? You’ve just come in.’
Andy shook his head. ‘I relax better upright. I’d enjoy it, too.’
After some organising of the pram, the three of them meandered along the lakeside path under overhanging trees, and the cool evening breeze was as delightful as Montana had imagined it would be.
They walked side by side and she had to be careful not to lean too close towards Andy as they strolled. It was probably just the fact of two people out walking with one baby but it almost felt like a family excursion. That was ridiculous when she’d only known Andy a week.
The houses they passed all seemed to be built of heavy timber and pretty gables and wroughtiron enclosed back verandas that looked over long rear gardens.
If this was suburbia then Montana hadn’t seen anywhere like it as peaceful or pretty, and the warmth of the evening seemed to wrap the three of them in contentment.
She felt like a child peering through other people’s windows at Christmas, which was strange when in Westside she had her own house and garden, but suddenly home felt a million miles away from here and not a quarter as attractive.
‘Do you ever think of buying a house around here?’ The words fell out and she hoped they weren’t too personal, but Andy didn’t seem worried she’d asked.
He smiled across at her. ‘I might do some time in the future. I did buy my dream block of land at the end of the lake, but most of my time is spent at the hospital or on home visits.’ He shrugged.
‘At the moment I wouldn’t be able to give a house and garden the care they needed until more medical relief arrives.’
Montana wondered if that was really true, or did Andy choose to spend so much time finding things to do so he didn’t have to be alone in a house of his own?
They meandered on and the sun set behind the hills as they turned back towards the doctors’ house.
The three weeks left in January passed in a blur with what became ritual walks along the lake in the evening and caring for Dawn through the day.
Late in the month Andy took Montana to the flying club for a barbeque and she followed him nervously out of the car.
Andy was greeted like a long-lost friend and he introduced Montana to Paul, the local flying instructor.
‘So do you fancy learning to fly, Montana?’ Paul asked with sweep of his hand towards the sky.
‘Not
at the moment, thanks,’ she said, and glanced across at Andy whose laughter-filled eyes dared her to tell Paul what she really thought.
‘You’ll have to come up with me one day,’ Paul said, oblivious to the shudder from Montana. ‘Andy’s only an amateur in a baby plane.’
He pointed to a petite brunette serving salad at the trestle table. ‘My wife has a beautiful biplane, a Tiger Moth. Now, that’s real flying.’
Driving home later, Andy teased her about her not taking up Paul’s offer.
‘I can just see you with goggles and a flying jacket in the front of the Tiger Moth.’
‘Not.’ Montana refused to take the bait. ‘But thanks for taking me out. It was lovely to have a change of scenery and, you’re right, the flying club mob are larrikins but lovely.’
Montana had begun to itch for some work, an occasional relief shift even at the hospital when Andy told her about a staff member off sick, but Andy insisted Montana relax and enjoy Dawn while she settled into motherhood.
It was like stolen time and Montana had never done so little for so long. Despite some reflex ennui, she felt more at peace than she had since Douglas had died.
She realised the gnawing pain from her loss of Douglas had been eased by her love for Dawn and the warmth from her housemates and, of course, the ever-caring presence of Andy. Her calm persona became the real Montana, not just the projection.
February saw Montana drift to the surgery end of the house and glance over the list of patients. At least she could see if there were any nursing tasks she could do for Ned, like occasional dressings or injections or even minor suturing.
She began to spend an hour or maybe more in the surgery but as the days passed more clients began to be allocated in her time to drift in. Soon the time had stretched from one hour and then two.
Montana discussed with Ned the need for a well-women’s clinic and the idea to use her women’s health certificate for the first time in years gave her the incentive to scan the internet for health sites to update her knowledge.
One morning she realised she’d been there six weeks already and Andy had seemed to have fallen into a routine of including her in his day.
He arrived in the kitchen and swooped on Dawn who lay propped up as she stared fascinated at the world from her pram while Montana ate her breakfast.
‘Would you like to come for a turn around the garden, gorgeous, before I sit down for my breakfast?’
Dawn’s little face lit up as soon as Andy entered her vision and she had even begun to coo when he picked her up. Montana realised that she wasn’t the only person falling under Andy’s spell. Dawn adored him.
Her own external relationship with Andy hadn’t changed since she’d moved into his house but she wished she could say the same about the way she reacted to him emotionally.
To Montana he was unfailingly polite and supportive and she had to admit she looked forward to seeing him in the mornings but there was still a certain reserve between them that wasn’t there for Dawn or the others.
But, then, he was everyone’s favourite.
Louisa he teased unmercifully, and the affection in the scoldings she gave him showed how much she enjoyed their exchanges, while Ned treated Andy as his favourite son.
Apart from breakfast and their evening walks, Montana actually saw very little of the workaholic Andy.
As she watched Andy bear Dawn away Montana decided the less she saw of Andy the better. She’d come to suspect her panicked misgivings during the plane trip could have substance. Following Andy out here could be detrimental to her peace of mind. Then there was the fair lashing of guilt over her faithlessness to Douglas.
To her dismay she’d begun to daydream about Andy. He appeared in her thoughts and snippets of new memories would have her drift into a reverie when she least expected it.
Both he and Ned treated her like a princess, opened doors, pulled out her chair, stood when she entered the room. It was totally different from her life with Douglas, who had loved her but had expected almost the opposite.
Douglas had been the prince, the doctor and the artist, and she the person responsible for the mundane tasks of day-to-day living as well as all nurturing and household business.
Here Louisa managed the house, Andy the hospital and Ned the clinic. Montana looked after Dawn and learnt about Lyrebird Lake.
She knew Andy suspected she still missed the day-to-day interaction from her husband—or maybe that was what he had missed the most when his wife had died—but she wished he wouldn’t try to replace that because she found it harder to picture Douglas’s face each day and easier to conjure up Andy’s.
She didn’t feel comfortable to lose the memory of her husband so quickly and easily, and the rising tide of guilt was the only tarnish on her peaceful life.
What she could see even without actually spending much time with Andy was how much the town relied on him.
Ned couldn’t suture and had difficulty when he tried to read the names on drug ampoules and bottles because of his diminishing eyesight.
Andy slipped those tasks into his already busy schedule and Montana continued to take on what tasks she could to lighten his load.
Andy dealt with all the hospital admissions and transfers to the base hospital, minor surgery and emergencies, and apparently worked on the disaster rescue team when needed. She could help.
Late in the eighth week of her stay Montana swung gently on the veranda swing with the warmth and weight of Dawn on her chest, and watched the sun set over the lake.
She’d have to go in soon for tea but for the moment the gentle breeze and cerise reflection off the water were glorious and she felt more energised than she had since Dawn’s birth.
The days had begun to drag and she realised she was ready to return at least to part-time work.
The noise of the latch on the screen door behind heralded the end of her solitude and she glanced up from the water.
‘Hope I’m not intruding.’ Andy raised his brows as if she only had to say and he would go again.
CHAPTER FOUR
ANDY really was the most gorgeous man and she didn’t understand why he hadn’t remarried and surrounded himself with a brood of auburn-haired children when he was so wonderful with Dawn.
Of course, her daughter seemed as pleased as Montana that he’d joined them. She cooed and smiled at Andy’s familiar face and Montana thought at least Dawn would know a little of what a father figure was like when she could have so easily have been devoid of all male company.
Certainly at Westside her daughter would have been in a predominately female environment.
Montana patted the seat beside her. ‘Join me. We seem to have very little time to chat. Was there something particular you wanted to discuss with me?’
She edged over to make room for him on the swing and then Andy’s woodsy cologne, which almost reminded her of the bottlebrush foliage she’d arranged in the vase today, was there and she realised she’d grown to not only recognise but respond to the aroma of Andy. When had that happened?
His was nothing like the expensive cologne Douglas had preferred but was just as manly—funny how Andy’s cologne made her think of unobtrusive strength—which was as comforting as the man it belonged to.
For Andy, he savoured her warmth against him and he realised how much he missed the little feminine aspects that Montana abounded in. She dazzled him as she sat here like the sun that reflected off the lake and yet he could see she had no idea how much he delighted in her company.
He’d been watching her for a while from the lounge and she’d looked so peaceful he’d been reluctant to break into her thoughts.
‘Are you settled here?’
‘Unless you’re planning to evict me, I have no thoughts of moving on. Why?’
He couldn’t help but smile at her. ‘Fancy a bit of work?’
Her chin went up along with the sparkle in her eyes. ‘I was just thinking that.’
Good, he thought, satisfie
d she was at ease. ‘There are a couple of things I want to run by you.’
She turned towards him and regrettably it became harder for Andy to concentrate with her brown eyes on his so expectantly.
He regathered his wits. ‘Ned mentioned your well-women’s clinic idea. I think that would be great. We could do it when one of us isn’t here to give you the other consulting room. Maybe we could run it a couple of hours one morning or afternoon a week?’
‘That sounds fine.’ Montana nodded.
She looked happy with that, Andy thought, pleased. He hoped she’d be as interested in his next proposal. ‘The other thing is that one of my younger patients, Emma, is pregnant and due in July. I wondered if you would be interested in chatting to her about labour and birth over the next few weeks or months?’
‘Of course!’ Montana sat up straighter and Andy smiled at her passion.
‘How old is Emma?’ she asked.
He frowned as he thought of Emma and the lacklustre person she’d become in so short a time. ‘She’s sixteen and about twenty weeks pregnant. My concern is that she’s changed from an outgoing girl to an introverted and withdrawn wraith. I know the family well and I’m worried about her.’
Montana’s fine brows drew together and he wanted to follow the movement with his fingers and trace them straight again, but this was too important to be sidetracked by fancies.
‘Depression, you mean?’ she asked.
He concentrated his brain on Emma. ‘Yes. I think there’s a risk she could become seriously depressed, especially as her mother seems to be going through a low period at the moment.’
The malady of Clare, Emma’s mother, still puzzled him. ‘I’d like to think with a bit of positive feedback from you, Emma will turn back into herself before she gets used to being miserable. She’s only a child.’
Montana raised her eyebrows. ‘If she is old enough to become pregnant then she’s no child. She’s a woman. Make no mistake about that.’
He could see the midwife in her and he knew he’d been right in thinking she would be good for Emma. ‘I stand corrected.’
The Midwife's Little Miracle Page 4