The Desert Midwife

by Fiona McArthur

  When she ducked in through the side door, her mother and Mim were standing very close together at the workbench. They stopped talking when she came in.

  ‘What?’ She glared at them suspiciously.

  ‘Nothing,’ Mim said.

  ‘How are you?’ her mother answered at the same time.

  ‘I’m fine. I’d be better if you didn’t whisper about me.’

  They shared a guilty look, then her mother said quietly, ‘We don’t know what we can do to help. We think it’s getting too much for you.’

  Ava pushed the hair carefully off her forehead around the raised bruise and scar. Her mother had removed the sutures yesterday. She didn’t think she could carry on. ‘I think …’ She made a decision. ‘He can ask if he wants something, but I think he’ll leave soon. Maybe even tomorrow.’

  Her mother sighed. ‘That’s what I think. Though your grandmother wants to tell him he loves you and see if he wakes up.’

  Ava’s eyes pricked and she blinked rapidly. Fighting the sudden well of emotion that squeezed her lungs, she struggled to take the deep breath she needed to force away the tightness in her throat. Yes, they’d had something beautiful and now it was lost. Something precious that slipped further and further away every second.

  She imagined discussing the proposal as if it were an interesting lab result. Oh, by the way … Then there was the proposal looking at Uluru from our hotel room. She wasn’t explaining that to Zac. She’d had enough trampling on her tender heart. ‘Please don’t do that, Mim.’

  Mim crossed to her, leaned up to give her a kiss on the cheek, and patted her arm as she stepped back. ‘If that’s what you want, sweetie, then that’s my plan too.’ She turned to Stella, then handed her a paintbrush. ‘I’m not in the mood to work. Can you finish this, please? I might have a wee lie-down.’

  Ava and Stella watched Mim walk away and Stella dipped the silver paintbrush in the tin. ‘She’s feeling everything is out of her control and she’s not used to that.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m not used to it, either.’

  Ava crossed to her mum and leaned in, avoiding the wet paint on the tiny homestead. ‘Thanks for last night. I did sleep well.’ She rested her head on Stella’s shoulder as they both gazed over the paddocks. ‘The women in this family like to be on top of everything.’

  ‘Or at least look like we are,’ her mother said cryptically. ‘We’ll all hope your Zac gets his memory back, darling. But if he goes back to Alice, we’ll still be thankful you’re both alive.’ She straightened into Sergeant Stella. ‘That’s the most important thing.’

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Zac

  Zac waited for the moment when Ava left the shed. When she reappeared she didn’t look his way, but turned and headed towards the river. Watching from the verandah, he strode quickly to catch up.

  She walked fast but he was faster. ‘I’m sorry, Ava.’ He spoke to her spine, which was ramrod straight, pushing the distance between them as she walked a little ahead. He caught up and touched her shoulder until she stopped, and as if impatient, she spun around.

  Her eyes were glinting with unshed tears and a well of protectiveness swelled in him as she looked up to face him. Her features were so beautiful, her eyes so tragic, he couldn’t help pulling her closer to curve his fingers around her chin and draw her in. ‘What have I lost, Ava, and how much has it cost you? What was I thinking doing this to you?’

  ‘We’ve both lost, Zac, lost a lot. It’s not just me.’ She stretched up on tiptoes to reach his mouth with hers and the light touch of her made him pull her closer.

  For Zac, something did shift in his mind at that second touch. Her blue eyes were dark pools, like a mermaid’s lure drawing him in, her pupils dilated and bottomless. He stared into them, and she stared back, and the moment lengthened as each of them tried to see into the other’s soul.

  When, finally, inevitably, he bent down and put his lips on hers again, he felt her tense under his mouth and paused. This time when he kissed her, it was as if he was transported back to another moment, kissing this woman, holding her in his arms. He closed his eyes, the past skipping and slipping through his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to hang on to the memories, they slid and evaded his attempt at tethering them like will-o’-the-wisps in the breeze. Fiercely, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her closer until her toes left the track and she was crushed against him. She felt right, perfect, incredible in his arms.

  Even that wasn’t close enough. Her tongue invited him in and the kiss deepened and he forgot where, or why, he was here as he breathed in the scent and the taste of the woman in his arms. And she answered him with a longing that touched the core of him with a feeling of homecoming, so tantalising, so welcoming, but still just out of his grasp.

  He couldn’t remember.

  Finally, their lips parted and he lowered her slowly, running her body down the length of his in slow torture until she could step back. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  When he looked into her eyes he saw the heartbreak he’d caused, and deepened, with his intense embrace, and his finger rose to brush her tears away as they fell on her cheek.

  Obviously, she was struggling with him being here and he cursed himself for putting her through this. He was a jerk. A thoughtless, arrogant jerk. It had been too big an ask and he knew without a doubt that he had taken advantage when he shouldn’t have.

  ‘We’ve kissed many times before.’ His words were a statement and she didn’t deny it, but she stepped away further and the back of her hand rested across her mouth where he’d left his imprint. He could tell she was having trouble with her emotions.

  She wasn’t the only one. His heart thumped like a piston in his chest and he wanted to snatch her back instantly, back into his arms, and do that all over again. And more.

  There was only one way his thoughts could go and he didn’t understand how he could have allowed himself to risk this woman by making love to her when he must have known it couldn’t last. Damn.

  ‘Were we lovers?’ His voice was harsher than he’d intended, angry with himself, not her. She flinched at the baldness of the question.

  She raised her chin and he remembered that from the first time she’d visited him in the hospital – he’d known she was no shrinking flower. She held his gaze, lifting her chin higher. ‘Yes!’

  He glanced down at her body as if to remember, and his gaze lingered on her generous breasts. Before he could say anything, she spun away towards the path again.

  God, this must be hard for her. What the heck had he been thinking of to involve someone as obviously decent as Ava when he was never marrying again? Especially someone who was as honest and smart and generous as this woman. Someone who could never leave here and be happy. What had he done just now? He’d almost lost control. Bloody hell.

  He spoke to her back. ‘I think I should leave for Alice Springs tomorrow. I can arrange for a car to pick me up.’

  She sighed and turned back to look at him. Her eyes were shadowed now. ‘I don’t know. Yes. I suppose. Maybe you should just go.’

  Strangely, now he didn’t want to. ‘If I think of something, can I call you?’

  This whole mess was nowhere near finished, but suddenly it was important to give her space because she needed it. He needed it too, to think. Whatever had been between them was gone, and he should be as well. Especially if he’d led her on unfairly when there could be no future.

  ‘Sure.’ Except the one word sounded anything but sure.

  When he had his own transport he could return. Or maybe, for Ava, he would not.

  He stopped following her then and watched her increase the distance between them, down towards the waterhole. Soon she’d rounded a bend and disappeared out of sight.

  Poddy arrived at his door an hour later with an ‘experience’ for Zac. To get him away from Ava for the day, he had no doubt. He didn’t blame her family for arranging it, so he followed Poddy to the vehicle
and climbed in to go hiking for the day.

  That night, he tossed in his wrought-iron bed and remembered the confusion and pain in Ava’s eyes. He hated that he’d caused her such distress. It would be better when he’d just left her in peace and returned to Alice Springs. He was almost completely certain that was the right thing to do, but he wasn’t ready to go back to Sydney. Something held him back from doing that.

  He’d sat outside before going to bed. He could hear the dull murmur of voices from inside the homestead, and not wanting to eavesdrop he’d stood up and walked down the steps to gaze up at the enormous sky above him. The full moon hadn’t risen yet and the dark sky lay with such a dense carpet of stars, swirls and stick figures of constellations. To the left of his unobstructed view, the glorious Milky Way cut a swathe across the sky like a silver cloud. Even the occasional taunting flicker of a shooting star zipping past and extinguishing out of the corner of his eye seemed fitting in this moment.

  Like Ava. A bright star who’d appeared in his world and then was gone.

  In the night hours, the brief snatches of sleep Zac managed were filled with the worst of dreams. He was cold, freezing cold, and he could hear a woman’s screams. Somewhere. In smoke. He couldn’t find her. He ran this way and that as he searched for her, but the cries didn’t seem any closer. He had to find her before something terrible happened, something he’d never survive, but then it was too late. Her screams were cut off and he sat bolt upright in bed.

  The light from the moon shone into the room at a low angle – it must be setting. It was nearly morning, reminding him where he was and that he’d be leaving today. Leaving Ava to heal the heart, which he could now see he’d broken.

  His hand shook as he reached across and took a sip of water to clear the ache in his throat. When he sat on the edge of the bed, his heart pounded in his chest.

  Ava was the key. He still believed she could help him remember, but at what cost to her? He’d never felt closer to seeing past the block than he had yesterday, but he’d also seen the toll it had taken on the woman trying to help him.

  Because she’d confirmed they’d been lovers, he had more questions. How had he begun a relationship so soon after Roslyn? Why hadn’t he stopped it? How long had it been going on for? He’d only been in Alice Springs a week. How could he not remember that? How had he come to the point where they’d slept together?

  He massaged his scalp with tense fingers. If they had been lovers, surely they’d taken precautions? What if they’d made plans he didn’t remember? That would explain her persistence in bringing him here. These were all very serious questions that he should have asked, but it all came back to what had possessed him. Possessed him to become involved when he was transient, when he’d already royally screwed up one marriage with far more chance of success than this balls-up.

  He lay back down, feeling restless and staring out at the moonlight shining on the barren landscape.

  Maybe a miracle would bring answers before he left.

  Maybe when he saw her this morning, it would all come back in a deluge.

  Maybe pigs might fly.

  Chapter Forty

  Hana

  Hana was thinking of Jock and the loving way he’d left her this morning. She knew Zac was leaving soon and she felt for Ava’s loss. She glanced at the clock again. Jock should be back. He’d left early, said he wanted to check the cattle he’d moved closer to the east troughs, but it was after morning tea and he usually would have checked on her by now. Plus, they’d be going together to say goodbye to Zac.

  The uneasy feeling she’d woken with this morning gnawed at her gut and even her baby wriggled more than usual, as if feeling her tension.

  Damn this drought.

  Damn this fear that was creeping over her skin, making her cold.

  Damn her husband’s state of mind, which had skewed his normal rational thinking so that he’d turned all the blame on himself.

  It had been financially devastating when Setabilly had lost the international beef market, like so many others, right after Jock had ordered the expensive improvements. They’d been critically overstocked at the wrong time, through no fault of Jock’s, in a glut as everyone had tried to downsize their herds in the local market. They’d seen more than one family fall straight into bankruptcy, and now the viciousness of this drought on top of a few lean years had affected them all. Nobody could have done more to care for the infrastructure, the innovation and the monitoring of the feed and water levels than Jock.

  She rang the house and Mim answered. ‘No, Jock isn’t here. You coming over to see Zac off soon? Want me to ask Stella if she knows?’

  Hana murmured ‘No’ quite quickly, because her mother-inlaw had been almost overwrought, something Hana hadn’t seen in the time she’d been here, when Ava had suggested Jock might be depressed. Stella would instantly worry. ‘I’ll be over soon.’

  Hana took down the spare satellite phone and clipped it to her jeans as she walked to the shed. The Polaris was gone, which wasn’t surprising, but the quad bike was there. She glanced in the direction of the house and contemplated calling Ava, but then shrugged. Her sister-in-law had enough on her mind.

  Hana clambered onto the tall quad bike, swinging her legs and belly awkwardly, and settled herself. She knocked it into neutral, started the engine and pushed into low gear. She’d go slowly. Poke along until she saw Jock, who would rant and rave about her riding the bike, but perhaps next time he wouldn’t leave her to worry.

  Such sudden inexplicable worry, along with an icy-cold fear that chewed inside her. As if she could feel the angst inside her husband through some telepathic bond.

  Jock had been saying nonsensical things about letting the family down, the responsibility of being the fourth generation, of losing Setabilly. Making it all his fault. She suspected that despite Jock’s euphoria over their coming baby, the responsibilities of being a new father could very well tip him deeper into the spiral of depression, and she wasn’t having that.

  For some reason she remembered him saying she would be excited to find out the sex. As if he wouldn’t be there. Hana pushed the throttle on the bike a little harder to increase her speed.

  She saw the Polaris as she rounded a bend, rolling erratically down the hill, and then it came to a stop. Her breath eased out. Unconsciously, she slowed until she saw the vehicle was empty, oddly parked at the bottom of the hill, as if it had driven itself there. She glanced to the top of Lone Tree Hill.

  When Hana first saw the thing hanging from the tree, she thought a branch had come down. It looked odd, misshapen, and it swung, jiggled, and suddenly, the full horror dawned on her.

  Hana began to swear as she gunned the engine, bounced wildly across the rock-strewn paddock from rock to rock, roared up the hill and aimed for the lump. Angry, incredulous, heartbroken words poured from her lips as she swung the bike under the swinging body of her husband as he hung suspended above the ground, and she tried to let the bike take his weight.

  She threw open the small tool chest on the back of the bike and reached in for the knife that was always there. When her fingers closed about the hilt, she dragged herself up until she stood, swaying unsteadily on the seat of the bike, and sawed at the tight rope at his neck, the tiny gap opening as she kept his weight off the rope. Seconds mattered. She kept her eyes on the rope, strand by strand as it separated, eyes away from Jock’s hideously purple face, and sawed, and sawed. Her grunts gasping from her mouth, her whimpers getting louder. Finally, the rope separated from the branch and Jock’s body toppled with an appalling thump onto the ground. He took her down with him, and with a gasp she fell forward and landed on top of him with a painful, solid slap and lay there stunned.

  Until she heard it, under her cheek. She could hear his heart beating.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Zac

  For Zac, no miracle had arrived with the morning he’d spent with Ava. No memories. Despite all of Ava’s efforts, Zac remembered nothing s
ince Sydney prior to waking in the hospital in Alice Springs.

  It was time to leave.

  Poddy had offered to give him a lift into Alice and would be here soon. Poddy had said he’d been going anyway, and that he’d pick him up at eleven. Standing outside his bedroom door, the one that led to the verandah, Zac felt the immenseness of this place in the middle of Australia envelop him as if trying to ease into his soul. The sweep away to the MacDonnell Ranges seemed even more mesmerising and he wished they’d gone to the foothills again; the top of the path down to the river made him think of when Ava had taken his hand. He looked away to the distant red dirt and sparsely covered paddocks, where he knew that so many turns and fence lines led to places he’d never see. The sadness for something lost that he didn’t remember sat on his shoulder like one of the crows he’d woken to the sound of this morning. No.

  It was time to leave.

  His backpack sat on the verandah and the front door stood open as he looked to the entrance of Ava’s home.

  She came through and headed his way, moving gracefully, like a dancer. She’d told him that story of when she was little and the memory made him smile … A thought intruded as a fragment of recollection, tantalising, beckoning, so close … Something sizzled for a moment, then it was gone. He grimaced with the frustration.

  What did you say to a woman you’ve found out you’d slept with and didn’t remember? Bloody hell. He had no idea except, ‘I’m sorry. So sorry for any distress I’ve caused you and your family, Ava.’

  ‘It was never your fault.’ She held out her hand, composed and pleasant. She was all class and he wished he had more to offer her, but the feeling of impending doom that he seemed to be carrying around made him anxious to leave before he hurt this family any more than he already had.

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help your memory,’ Ava said as she touched his outstretched hand very briefly. She stepped back to stand beside her diminutive grandmother, who had also appeared, and he couldn’t read the expression on either of their faces. The thought crossed his mind that they’d never looked so similar as they did in that moment.