The Midwife's Son

by Sue MacKay

  Jackson opened his mouth to swear again, glanced around the store and saw the row of televisions—all playing the news. Showing Golden Bay like he’d never seen it before. Showing his home town besieged by water. ‘Crap.’

  Water ran amok, taking trees and kennels and dead cattle with it. Brown, swirling water decimating everything in its path. Suddenly the only place on earth he wanted to be was in Golden Bay, in the thick of it, with Jess, helping her while she helped everyone else. And it had taken a damned disaster to wake him up to that fact.

  Simon said, ‘I’ll run you to the airport.’

  ‘I’ll have to hire a private plane when I get to Nelson.’ Hell, he hoped he could get on a commercial flight from Auckland to Nelson at such short notice. He didn’t fancy the extra hour and a half by road if he had to land in Blenheim. He wouldn’t consider the time delay if Christchurch was his only option.

  * * *

  Five hours later Jackson dumped his bags in the corner of the Pohara Motor Camp office and headed for the communal kitchen/dining room being used as an emergency centre. The moment he walked through the door his eyes scanned for Jess, came up blank.

  ‘Where’s Jess?’ he demanded the instant he saw Grady.

  ‘Hello to you, too. She’s seeing to Sam. He’s injured himself while trying to dig a ditch to divert water from the house.’ Grady reached for a ringing phone. ‘She’s fine, Jackson.’

  Jackson picked his way around people and bags and boxes of food, heading for the white board on the wall. Lists scrolled down the board. Properties damaged by the flood, people being evacuated, injured folk needing house calls. He’d seen some sad sights on his way in from Takaka airstrip, travelling first by four-wheel drive then by boat and lastly on foot.

  Jess’s house was listed in the flooded properties, as was her other place, where Mrs Harrop lived. Yet Jess was out there doing what she did best—looking out for others. She was magnificent. And he’d been going to walk away. Idiot. He wanted to run to her, stick by her while she went about her calls. But she’d hate that. Anyway, he could be put to better use, attending patients himself.

  Impatience gripped him as he waited for Grady to finish his call. Sounded like someone out past Pohara needed urgent attention from a medic. ‘I’ll go,’ he announced the moment Grady hung up.

  ‘Take my truck. There’s a medical kit and hopefully anything else you’ll need inside. Tom Gregory, Tarakohe, had his arm squashed while trying to tie his fishing boat down.’

  Jackson snatched the keys flying towards him. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Good, because I’ve already got another call for you out at Wainui Inlet after you’re done with Tom.’

  * * *

  Jess shivered. Under her thick jacket her clothes were soaked through. On her way to the truck that she’d hijacked from Ian she’d slipped in the mud and gone into a ditch to be submerged in sludge. It would be weeks before the foul taste of mud left her mouth.

  It was well after seven and as dark as coal. This had been the longest day of her life, and it wasn’t anywhere near over. Too many people needed help for her to put her feet up in front of Virginia’s fire. But what she wouldn’t give for a hot chocolate right about now.

  Not going to happen. If she was lucky she’d get a lukewarm coffee and a droopy sandwich at Pohara before heading out somewhere else. She wouldn’t be the only one feeling exhausted. All the emergency crews had been working their butts off throughout the day. The damage out there was horrendous, taking its toll on people, animals and buildings.

  Buildings. As in houses. Her home.

  No. She wasn’t going to think about that. Wasn’t going to consider the damage she’d seen briefly when the police had taken her home to collect some things. At least she’d managed to grab some clothes, a few photos and a couple of Nicholas’s favourite toys. The rest didn’t bear thinking about.

  Hunched over the steering-wheel to peer through the murk and hoping like crazy the vehicle stayed on the road, she drove cautiously towards the temporary emergency centre. Shivering with cold, yawning with fatigue, it was hard to concentrate.

  Focus. The last thing the emergency guys needed was her driving into a ditch and having to be rescued.

  Finally she pulled up outside the well-lit building, got out and immediately pushed open the door. If she sat still she’d fall asleep. She’d fall asleep walking if she wasn’t careful.

  The heat exploded as she stepped through the door into the chaos of emergency rescue. Hesitating while her eyes adjusted to the bright lights, she could feel her hands losing their grip on the medical bag she’d brought inside to replenish. She heard it hit the floor with a sickening thud and couldn’t find the energy to bend down and pick it up again.

  Someone caught her, led her to a chair and gently pushed her down. A cup of tea appeared on the table in front of her. ‘Get that inside you, Jess. I bet you didn’t stop for lunch.’

  Her stomach rumbled in answer. Lunch. What was that? ‘The store was shut.’ She’d never get that cup to her lips without spilling most of the contents.

  ‘I’ll get you a sandwich.’

  The rumble was louder this time. She blinked. Looked up at this kind apparition hovering over her. That’s when she knew she’d lost her mind. Exhaustion had caught up, obviously tipping her over the edge of sanity. She dropped her eyes, focused on the cup until it was very clear in her mind, no blurring at the edges of her sight. Looking up again, her breath snagged in the back of her throat. Jackson? If this was what not eating did then she’d schedule meals every hour from now on. Seeing Jackson at every turn would put her in the loony bin.

  ‘Hey, sweetheart, you need to eat while Sheree finds you some warm, dry clothes.’ A lopsided smile kept her from looking away.

  Funny how her lungs seemed to have gone on strike. ‘Is it really you?’ How could it be? He should be somewhere over Australia by now. The tremors that had been racking her turned into quakes that would knock the socks off the Richter scale.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. I’m home, Jess. For good.’ Steady hands held the cup to her lips. ‘Now get some of this inside you.’

  Her lips were numb with cold and the liquid dribbled down her chin, but some ran over her tongue and down her throat. It was good, sending some warmth into the chill. She took another mouthful, this time most of it going in the right direction. ‘Define “for good”,’ she croaked.

  ‘As in for the next fifty years at least.’

  She couldn’t do the sums. Her brain was struggling with drinking tea, let alone anything else. But she figured he meant he’d be here for a long while. ‘Great.’

  Now she really looked at him, concentrating as hard as she had while driving from Sam’s. Really, really saw the man hunkered down in front of her, those beautiful deep green eyes fixed on her. Need laced that gaze. So did apology. And concern. Could that be love lingering around the edges, too? Or was she hallucinating?

  ‘I heard your home has taken a hit.’

  Oh. Not love. Just everyday concern for someone he knew well. That gave her the strength to murmur, ‘Got a bulldozer out in your dad’s shed? I’m going to need it.’ Her lips pressed together, holding back her returning bewilderment. This was too much. First her home had been all but destroyed. And now the man who had walked away from her two days ago, taking her heart with him, was in front of her, his hand on her knee, looking like he... Like he... That was the problem. She didn’t understand any of this. Why had he suddenly reappeared?

  Whatever the reason, she really didn’t need this right now. She was busy helping folk in the bay. It was what she needed to do, it was how she atoned for being a brat teenager. Had she been even more badly behaved as a young woman than she’d imagined? Was that why all this was happening to her? Would she never pay for her mistakes?

  On a long, steadying bre
ath, she told Jackson, ‘Glad you’re here. They need all the medics they can get.’

  ‘I’ve been helping for the last four hours. Seems we’re all caught up for a while.’ He took the plate of sandwiches Sheree arrived with and handed her one. ‘Eat.’

  ‘Your jersey’s wet.’ So was his hair. She hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Last time I looked, it was still raining.’

  ‘I need to top up my bag.’ Chew, chew. Concentrating on more than one thing at a time was too hard right now.

  ‘I’ll see to it in a minute.’ He didn’t move.

  ‘Jackson,’ she growled around another mouthful of bread and ham. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t leave.’ He pulled another chair around and sat in front of her, still holding the plate of sandwiches. ‘I was wrong to think I could go, Jess. No, let me rephrase that. I knew I wanted to stay but that bloody promise kept getting in the way, doing my head in.’

  Chew, chew. ‘Okay.’ Was it? Jackson was back, whatever that meant.

  ‘Jackson,’ Grady called. ‘Got a minute? We’ve got a young boy needing stitches in his hand waiting in the other room.’

  ‘Sure.’ Leaning close, he kissed her cheek so softly she probably imagined it. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

  Jess watched him stride to the back door and remove his sodden jacket before heading down the hall to the bathroom. ‘Did I just see Jackson in here?’ she whispered.

  Sheree placed a pile of clothes on the chair beside her. ‘Definitely Jackson. No one else around here looks so cute in his city clobber, even when it looks like he’s been swimming in it.’

  ‘That’s because no one else around here wears city clothes.’ But Sheree was right. He looked downright gorgeous. Sexy and hot and warm and caring. Even when he was so bedraggled. Jackson. Had he brought her heart back to put her all together?

  ‘Why has he come back?’ she asked no one in particular.

  ‘Go and change into those dry clothes, Jess. They’ll be too big for you but at least you’ll feel warmer.’ Sheree could be bossy when she put her mind to it. ‘Jackson isn’t going anywhere tonight. You’ll get your answer, I’m sure.’

  Who’d have believed tears would feel so hot when your cheeks were frozen?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JACKSON TRIED TO watch Jess as she carefully drove the short distance to his parents’ place, avoiding racing water as best she could, driving around fallen trees and bobbing logs. Why had she insisted on driving when she was shattered? Trying to regain some control? Over herself? Or him?

  He could barely see her outline in the dark but as they’d pulled away from the emergency centre he’d noted how tight her mouth was, how white her lips were. Her eyes had stood out in her pale face. Worry had turned their warm brown shade to burnt coffee. Now her fingers were wrapped around the steering-wheel so hard he thought he’d be peeling them off for her when they stopped.

  ‘You’re staring.’

  Yes, he was. Drinking in the dark shape of her in the gloom. She was all mussed, her damp hair fizzing in all directions. Adorable. He’d only been gone a couple of days but he’d missed her every single second of the time. He’d had to fight himself not to return. How bloody stupid was that? Thought he knew what he was doing? Yeah, right. Think again, buddy.

  Her voice squeaked as she asked, ‘How did you get through? I heard the hill’s closed.’

  ‘Hired a plane out of Nelson. I’m glad the airstrip is on higher ground.’

  ‘It’s worse around here.’

  ‘Shocking. I haven’t seen anything like it before. The orchard’s a disaster area, avocado and citrus trees standing deep in the swirling water. Fortunately the house is safe on the higher ground, unscathed by the flood, and full of people Mum and Dad are taking in and feeding.’ People that included Jess and Nicholas.

  ‘It’s what people do for each other.’ He thought Jess glanced at him. ‘This isn’t the first time this has happened in the bay.’ Her tone was sharp, fed up. The turn into Dad’s drive was equally sharp.

  ‘Yeah, but I’ve always been somewhere else.’ There lay his problem. He’d done a damned fine job of avoiding being a part of this place when the bad times were going down. Only ever here for some good times. But not any more. ‘Jess, there’s something I—’ He jerked forward as she braked too hard for the conditions.

  ‘Here we are. I can’t wait to put on dry, clean clothes, my clothes. And to hug Nicholas.’ Slam. Her door banged shut.

  ‘No hugs for me, then.’ What had he honestly expected? The band playing ‘Welcome home, lover’? Jackson sat shivering from the bone chilling effect of his wet clothes and Jess’s avoidance. He watched her stomping across the yard to Mum’s back door. Every step sent up a spray of water. Every foot forward, away from him, accentuated the fact she couldn’t deal with his return. Didn’t want to, more like.

  Finally he shoved the door open and dropped to the ground. Tonight wasn’t the time for deep and meaningful conversations. Not when Mum and Dad’s house was full of neighbours. Not when Jess had her own house situation to deal with. Not when Nicholas would want her attention.

  He drew a breath and dug deep for one attribute he didn’t have. Patience. Somehow he had to hold back and not rush in waving a flag, demanding that Jess listen to him. Somehow he had to take the time to show he would stand by her no matter what. Help her fix the home she’d been so proud of and that now stood full of muddy water. Wrecked. Not that anyone really knew how vast the damage would be. It’d take a few days before assessors and builders could even begin evaluating the situation.

  One thing he knew with absolute certainty—whatever it took, he’d do it to win Jess’s heart. For ever.

  ‘Hey, you coming in?’ Dad yelled from the back door. ‘I’ve still got some of that bourbon left.’

  ‘That’s my dad.’ His heart lifted a fraction as he went to join him. But as he approached the porch he noticed how grey Dad had turned, almost overnight. He wasn’t coping with Mum’s illness, and this situation would have exacerbated everything. His leaving wouldn’t have helped matters either.

  And I thought I could leave. His gut clenched. ‘Dad, I’m sorry.’ He wrapped his arms around the man who’d been there for him when he’d stubbed his toe, when he’d caught his first fish, when he’d wanted to know about sex, when he’d shouted he was leaving Golden Bay for ever. ‘I’m not leaving again.’

  ‘Tell that to Jess, not me. I’d already worked that out. Even before you had. But that young lady inside is going to take a lot more persuasion.’ Dad locked gazes with him. ‘She needs you, son. Badly. From what Jonty says, it’s really bad news about her property. Both houses are wrecked.’

  ‘Yeah, I saw that on the board at Pohara.’ No wonder Jess didn’t have time for him.

  Dad nodded. ‘You’re onto it.’

  The bottom dropped out of Jackson’s stomach. He should be shot. He’d been so sure of himself, acting strong and supposedly doing the right thing. It had taken an act of nature to bring him to his senses. It was going to take a lifetime to prove to Jess he could change, and get it right the second time round. If she even gave him a chance.

  * * *

  Jess forced her feet forward, one slippery step at a time, through her kitchen into the lounge. The mud and sludge was above her ankles, but overnight the water had at last dropped to ground level. Everything dripped moisture. Brown goo stained the walls higher than her waist. Furniture sat like sodden hulks, ruined for ever. The smell turned her nose, curled her stomach.

  On the wall photos were buckled from moisture. Seeing one of Nicholas, grinning out at her as he rode around the front lawn, snagged her heart, threatened to break her determination to be strong. She’d sneaked out of the Wilsons’ home the moment it was light enough to see her hand held out in front of her. T
he night had been long and stressful and sleep evasive as she’d tossed and turned on the couch. She’d desperately wanted to see her house, the place she’d made into a home for her and Nicholas. A safe haven where she knew she finally belonged.

  Of course she’d known it would be bad, but she had to see it, to know by touch, smell and sight just how bad it really was. She needed this short time alone to absorb it all. That way she’d be able to hold herself together and be strong in front of everyone else, no matter how generous they were with offers of help and new furniture.

  Tracking through the mess, she made her way to Nicholas’s room and swiped at her cheeks. So much for not crying. The quilt she’d bought at the local fair when Nicholas was two now had a distinct brown tinge but the appliquéd zoo animals were still clear, just dark brown.

  ‘Will I ever be able to wash that clean?’

  Pulling open a drawer, she gasped, still able to be surprised at the mess inside.

  ‘Guess we’re going shopping for clothes in the next few days, my boy. Thank goodness you wore your lucky fishing shirt yesterday.’ The tears became a steady stream.

  Another ruined photo caught her eye. How had she missed this one yesterday? There hadn’t been time to collect them all, but this one? Reaching out slowly, she lifted it by the frame and stared at the excited face of Nicholas with his first fish. Jackson squatting beside him, an equally big grin on his gorgeous face.

  The stream became a torrent. Jackson. Nicholas. The two most important people in her life. The life that had turned into one big mess.

  ‘Hey.’ Strong arms wrapped around her, turned her to hold her tight against that familiar, strong body she’d missed so much for the last three days. No, make that since the day she’d told Jackson she loved him.

  The torrent turned into a flood, pouring onto Jackson’s jersey, like the floodwaters that had soaked his clothes yesterday.

  All the time she sobbed he held her against him, his hands soothing her by rubbing her back, his chin settled on the top of her head. Letting his strength soak into her. Calming her with his quiet presence. Not trying to deny that she had a problem but showing he’d be there as she sorted her way through the debris that had become her life.