The Desert Midwife

by Fiona McArthur

  Inside the naturally lit shed, with sunlight streaming in the windows illuminating Mim’s work, he saw the almost completed miniature homestead, just like the ones he’d seen on the way in. ‘So these are your creations.’

  She reached out with one veiny hand and stroked the sloping tin roof. ‘They are. They’re models of the chalet cabins, scale versions of those we’ve made to use for the tourists.’ She looked at it with pride. ‘It has all the things I like in a cubbyhouse.’ She chuckled. ‘Full-sized, though, the metal gets a bit heavy for me.’

  Indeed! She was so tiny beside him. ‘You’re a marvel,’ he told her, truly meaning it.

  ‘My late husband taught me to weld and I enjoy it. It’s one of my artistic bents.’ She pointed to the windowsill and there lined up like the Dubbo Zoo were tiny native animals in all sizes made from metal.

  Zac studied them. ‘I like the emu.’

  ‘He’s my favourite, too. Cheeky.’

  ‘The tourists will love them. You’re onto a winner there.’ He thought of the woman who’d driven him here – physically and figuratively. ‘Which one is Ava’s favourite?’

  Mim inclined her head at the sill. ‘The lizard – the thorny devil. Ngiyari.’

  This was not what he expected. ‘He’s fierce.’

  Mim chuckled. ‘He is if you’re a black ant. He can eat up to a thousand a day.’

  ‘Ah. He’s high maintenance. Like me.’ Zac listened to himself with some shock. Was Ava changing him already? He was employing self-mockery, something he hadn’t thought he’d mastered, and he liked how amusing it felt and the way it lightened the load of drama his life had held lately.

  Mim cackled. ‘I heard that about you.’ Unfortunately, she didn’t expand and he wondered what Ava had told her. ‘I think this little fella reminds her of Uluru. She reckons she sees one every time she goes there. Her friend, Denise, says it’s her desert friend. Once that granddaughter of mine saw a nest of tiny baby devils just hatched and fell in love. Strange girl.’ She looked at him from beneath her white brows. ‘She’s tough, but she’s softer than her mother.’

  Mim waited after this statement, so he weighed up the thought and didn’t fill the sudden silence to interrupt her. He was rewarded when Mim said, ‘Did Ava tell you about Amelia?’

  He felt the weight of Mim’s sadness as it drifted towards him, and he remembered Roslyn’s parents saying, The young should never go first. ‘Yes. She did.’

  The older lady seemed to sag with relief. ‘I’m glad. She would have been an amazing mother – was a wonderful one for the short time she had – and now she’s a good midwife. But I’d like to see her be a mother again.’

  Mim wasn’t pulling any punches. And strangely, he wasn’t alarmed. ‘They told me at the hospital she’s an amazing midwife. And I can see she’s a wonderful woman. She’d be very easy to grow fond of.’ As soon as he said ‘fond’ he felt stupid.

  Apparently, Mim thought so too because she laughed and waved him away in disgust. ‘Fond’s nothing to write home about. Doesn’t do it for me. Let me know if you warm up to scorching.’ Mim glanced out the window. ‘Volcanic. That’s as warm as you need to go before you bother.’ She snorted distastefully then muttered ‘Fond’ under her breath and he grinned again. This woman. If Ava turned out like her grandmother, then the man who won her heart would’ve won the greatest lottery in the world.

  He had a sudden urge to buy as many tickets as he could.

  Mim interrupted his thoughts. ‘There she goes.’

  Ava had stepped out of another small building across the yard. She saw him and their eyes met, and when she smiled, he felt his spirits lift. That must mean something. She changed course towards him and he savoured her approach. Felt anticipation lift like a wave in his chest. And what did that mean?

  Her pale jeans hugged her hips and the long-sleeved top sat loosely enough to keep her cool, but her clothes were fitted enough to let him know there was a very desirable woman underneath. Her blonde hair had been tied back with a checked ribbon, the ponytail off her neck to keep her cool in the heat, but it left the lovely curve of her throat so softly vulnerable, he had the sudden urge to run his finger down its line.

  It was going to be an interesting few days to see how long he could keep her safe from the bigger danger: himself.

  He met her on the dirt path outside. ‘Are you going for a walk?’

  She pointed. ‘Down to the river – I want to check the level in the waterhole.’

  ‘Okay if I come? I need to stretch my legs.’ He could hear the warmth in his question and he suspected she did too, because she nodded, her mouth kicked up and she gestured to the path ahead.

  ‘This way.’

  ‘I hope I’m not intruding on your walk.’

  She turned her head to look up at him. ‘You’re not intruding. I enjoy your company, which was why I asked you to come here to convalesce.’

  To Zac it suddenly seemed natural when he lifted her hand to take it in his as they began to walk. Her fingers sat cool, despite the heat, and strong beneath his. He wrapped his hand around her palm and she fitted perfectly.

  She didn’t pull free when he thought she might, especially with Mim watching. ‘You’re a confusing man, Zac Logan,’ she muttered, and she shook their clasped hands to illustrate her point.

  He looked down at their entwined fingers. ‘This is just to stop me from falling over.’ He squeezed gently and contentment surged like a fluid wave of warmth, unexpectedly sweet and calming.

  ‘At least you’ll have some control over the danger if I start to wobble,’ he said.

  ‘What? We both fall together, is that your idea?’

  ‘That would be the best scenario,’ he quipped.

  She stopped in her tracks, shaking her head at him. ‘So what are we up to now?’

  He thought of Mim. ‘We’re getting warmer. How does that sound to you?’

  She tossed her head. ‘Boring. Let me know when it gets hot.’

  ‘You sound like your grandmother.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said and laughed.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Ava

  Her flippant comment notwithstanding, Ava thought that ‘getting warmer’ sounded promising. There was that hint of amusement in his deep voice and Ava savoured the spread of euphoria that reminded her of how she’d felt with him on the plane and after that. This wasn’t a shared memory, but it was perhaps a shared connection rebuilding.

  ‘Do you remember anything when you hold my hand?’ she asked.

  ‘It feels good,’ he admitted, ‘but no. It feels like the first time.’

  Ava swallowed the disappointment. She should just be happy that he was here with her and try not to wish for the stars. They were walking down the side of the bank that led to the bottom of the river, arms swinging, fingers clasped. The day shone blue and clear, with no sign of a new dust storm or rain. The demon of drought aside, the magic of the moment swelled inside her with the scent of crumbling red earth under her feet, the leaves of the tall gum they were passing under, and home. She loved the smell of home. Unexpectedly, joy opened like a desert flower inside her.

  Zac swung her hand. ‘You have slim fingers, fingernails not too long, a little rough at the edges from constant washing, like all health workers, but the whole hand fits nicely in mine.’

  The air seemed to vibrate between them, in spite of his clinical assessment. What the heck was that?

  He lifted her fingers to his face and kissed her palm, then repositioned her arm back by his side and they continued walking. ‘It’s a particularly nice hand.’

  She sucked in a breath, shocked by the impact of his warm lips as they brushed her skin and the slow burn he’d started with his words, which burst into a wicked little camp fire.

  Her inner voice cautioned, Calm down. It’s just a walk. ‘Thank you, kind sir, for the potted description of my hand,’ she said, hiding in humour, but she felt a little breathless and struggled to keep the co
nversation light. He’d held more than that on their hot nights, but there was something sweet and unhurried about a man wanting to hold her hand and saying he enjoyed it. Something romantic. It wasn’t a trait she was known for, but what girl didn’t smile at a hint of romance? Maybe this new relationship she hoped to build with Zac could start with romance instead of sex.

  Ava went along with the attraction, and the frivolous conversation hid the depth of tension slowly building into a fog of lust between them. The residual heat from the day warmed her legs, Zac warmed her middle, and a slight breeze drifted towards her every now and then, trying to cool her down. It wasn’t succeeding. ‘You’re confusing me.’

  The almost silent tread of his footsteps made her aware of his powerful frame. He suddenly laughed and she closed her eyes briefly at the warmth in that sound. He didn’t do it enough.

  ‘I’m not surprised I confuse you,’ he murmured. ‘I confuse myself.’

  ‘That’s no good.’ Ava exhaled noisily. ‘Someone needs to know what’s going on.’ She shook their hands. ‘I’m not sure what happens next with you and I find that hard to cope with.’

  ‘That’s another thing I’m finding I like so much about you – your honesty.’ He sighed. ‘I hope I can be the same.’

  His comment made her feel uncomfortable because there was so much he didn’t know about her, such as her dreams and the reasons she had brought him here, which actually warred with her fears and insecurities. Her need to stay connected to the land. His eventual commitment to spend long passages of time in her setting if this all did work out. She didn’t understand this man or his world, and it terrified her the way he could rouse her emotions with a word or two and a quick squeeze of her fingers and then dash her down with a facade that said he didn’t know her.

  What would he do when they went back to the house? Pretend there was nothing between them, like he had once before? Mim knew there was more between them. Her mother had sensed it, too. Was he aware of what he did to her or was it just she that was supersensitive?

  It was all too hard to think about and she’d come down here to relax, so she needed to change the subject. They’d made it down to the dry riverbed, her hand still in his. ‘When the rains come properly, once a year if we’re lucky, or every few years, this whole creek bed is flooded. The water rushes through here like a red torrent and anything caught in it gets washed away too. Even men like you.’ Big. Strong. Mortal. The thought of Zac in a flash flood made her shudder and she acknowledged her lack of faith in his ability to survive in a remote landscape.

  She wasn’t a small woman, but he looked down on her from his height and she wanted to hug him. Keep him safe. It was probably the tiredness that had crept up on her since she’d arrived home. She was possibly allowing it to swamp her because she now had some support mechanisms in place.

  He must have seen her sizing him up because his voice lowered teasingly. ‘Does it bother you? I seem to tower over all your family like a big lummox. I hope your brother is big.’

  She laughed. ‘Big is beautiful. Your size was handy in the emergency department with our stroppy football players.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Was that all?’

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. Did he expect her to be all coy and embarrassed because they’d enjoyed each other’s bodies? ‘You are big,’ she teased him. ‘Of course height is fine lying down, but it could be awkward at this angle. You up there, me down here.’ She dared him with her eyes, then said, ‘You could kiss me and I’ll tell you.’ The comment came out of her mouth before she could stop it, and hung in the hot air between them loud and clear.

  He paused and surveyed her in a way that made her think it might be time to head back to the house before she said anything else that would make it awkward to spend the next week together.

  ‘Forget I said that.’ She turned her back on him. ‘Come on. It’s just a walk.’

  Unexpectedly, he took her fingers in his big hand again and squeezed them for comfort. A sudden rush of empathy welled inside her and ran through her entire body like a cooling draught. He was so lost without his memories and she was pressuring him. She squeezed his hand back. She needed to console him more than he needed to console her.

  She stopped and he stopped with her. There had to be more than this, and she could almost see in his eyes the shadows of the past crowding like cloaked figures around him, and sadly, his inability to pinpoint any of the faces.

  ‘I’ll have to get used to not having those memories, I guess,’ he said in an echo of her thoughts. He tightened his grip. ‘Is there something big between us that I should remember?’

  Her lips parted, but she couldn’t say anything. The words were stuck in her throat because of the lack of recognition in his face. She tried not to let her heart shine out of her eyes. He stared at her mouth and she tried not to dwell on his.

  ‘Maybe you’re right. What if my memory needs jogging,’ he said, his voice gravelly, ‘in another way?’

  Below the wave of dark hair on his forehead, she saw his eyes darken. It would be so easy to reach up and try that connection. To risk the awkwardness that had to follow if he didn’t remember her when they kissed. She could feel the undercurrent between them, the heat rising even though they only touched hands. How could two people create such intensity without him remembering?

  She took a calming breath, then another. Not yet. If nothing jogged his memory when he did kiss her, then that disappointment would sting and kick her and frustrate the hell out of him as well. Make him wonder why he’d come to the back of beyond to their station when nothing was ringing any bells.

  She saw the moment his eyes changed, the decision made to not go there. He probably saw her struggle because she was pretty darn sure that was sympathy crossing his face.

  ‘Cooee.’ The call came from towards the house. Ava pulled away unsteadily. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to slow her breathing, and when he put his hand out to catch her fingers to steady her, she found him holding her hand again.

  She licked her dry lips. ‘My brother.’

  Zac seemed to be watching her mouth. ‘Your brother.’

  ‘Jock,’ she said.

  ‘Jock,’ he repeated.

  Maybe he had been feeling what she had, after all.

  ‘Echo,’ she quipped.

  He blinked and focused on their surroundings. ‘Right, then. What were we looking for down here before we go back?’

  ‘Just the level of the waterhole.’

  They walked around a small dark-red pool about the size of a child’s trampoline and climbed back up the hill, and this time she took his hand and clasped his fingers because she didn’t want to let go, and she decided then and there that they would walk like this for the whole world to see if he let her. Their tenuous relationship had subtly changed.

  She’d changed him. And to her amusement, her brother’s stance was something else that changed as they walked towards him.

  Jock’s brows lowered, his chin went up and he gave Zac the once-over that said, You’d better be careful with my sister. She glanced at the man beside her but he didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled at her brother’s protectiveness.

  ‘Zac,’ Ava said, pretending she was oblivious to the glare shooting past her, ‘this is my brother, Jock. Jock, Zac. We worked together in Alice.’ She let go of his hand and Zac reached out and took Jock’s grudging one aimed his way. They shook firmly. Maybe a little too firmly. Ava hid a smile.

  ‘Zac or Jock. I need someone with height. Have you got a minute?’ Mim called out, and Ava caught Zac’s questioning look that said he didn’t mind the diversion.

  ‘Coming!’ he called to Mim with a wave. ‘It’ll give Ava and you some space to talk. Good to meet you, Jock. I hope I get a chance to sit down with you and hear more about the running of the station when you get time.’

  She saw the flick of Jock’s brows as he nodded. ‘Sure thing.’

  ‘Better go then,’ Zac said.

>   Chapter Thirty

  Stella

  Stella watched her daughter and son from the window in the sitting room as they talked outside. Something was going on. She’d seen Zac and Ava arrive from the river holding hands and she suppressed a sigh.

  She watched as Hana refitted the bobbin in Granny Mim’s sewing machine. Hana hadn’t run away. Hana hadn’t dragged Jock back to New Zealand. And she and Jock seemed happy. But this was only their first child. Would they remain happy as their family grew larger?

  ‘Phew.’ Hana stood awkwardly and shifted her belly around a small table. ‘Got it. I think that’s fixed it. She had a ball of old cotton catching on it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Stella put her hand out to stop her. ‘How are you and how’s that grandchild of mine? Moving well?’

  Hana glanced at her in surprise. ‘We’re great. Everything is going well and the midwives are happy with me.’

  ‘Are you happy? You and Jock?’ The words were out before she could stop them.

  Hana froze and straightened, and Stella flushed. She’d been abrupt. She deserved it if her daughter-in-law snapped at her.

  Hana’s face softened and she touched Stella’s hand gently. ‘We are very happy,’ she enunciated slowly and with definite emphasis. ‘I’m fine. Jock’s fine. The baby’s fine. Poddy and I both love being here. It will be even better when the baby arrives.’ She peered at her. ‘Okay?’

  The girl was perceptive, she’d give her that. Stella’s spirits lifted. ‘I have to admit, the idea of a child in the house is very exciting.’ Actually it gave her joy, something in short supply lately with her disordered emotions. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Hana nodded and moved towards the door. ‘Good.’

  ‘And Hana?’ The girl turned, causing Stella to flush again. ‘Thank you.’

  Hana nodded, her head high like the strong woman she was. ‘You’re very welcome, Stella.’

  She waited a moment until the stupid swell of relief passed before she followed Hana down to the kitchen. Except Hana had moved out to the yard and Zac was eating an Anzac biscuit by himself at the table. He started to stand when she came in and she shooed him back down again with her hand.