Outback Sisters

by Rachael Johns

  Frankie put her hand on Simone’s stomach. ‘You are not a bad mother. You’re the best mother I know and your girls are lucky to have you. It’s not your fault you didn’t know what Grace was doing. I’m around her almost as much as you and I had no idea either. But the important thing is that we know now and together, we’ll help her through it. You’re not alone, sis. I’ve been by your side every moment of those girls’ lives and I’ll be there for you and for number three as well.’

  ‘And you’ve got me now too,’ said a deep voice behind them.

  They spun around to see Angus and Logan only a few metres away. The women had been so engrossed in conversation that they hadn’t even noticed the brothers approaching.

  ‘And,’ Angus added, smiling in the way that always melted her heart, ‘I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.’

  ‘And me,’ Logan added. ‘I’m ready and willing to step up to my uncle duties, and that goes for Harriet and Grace as well as for the little munchkin. We’re family.’

  Frankie squeezed Simone’s hand. ‘I couldn’t think of two better blokes to be stuck with. What do ya reckon?’

  Simone smiled through the tears that had started up again. Damn hormones. ‘I reckon you’re right.’

  Angus moved towards her and she could already feel the comfort of his arms wrapped around her. How had she gone so long without him in her life?

  ‘What are you guys doing here?’

  At the sound of Harriet’s voice, Angus dropped his hands to his side like a schoolboy caught with a girl behind the sports shed.

  Her arms laden with soft drink cans and bars of chocolate, Harriet raised an eyebrow and looked from Logan to Angus and back again. ‘I thought you and Mum broke up,’ she asked, her tone almost accusatory.

  Simone smiled. ‘We did,’ she told her, ‘but then … things got a little complicated. It’s a long story, but one I’ll happily tell you and Grace together, very soon.’

  Eight months later

  ‘Any news yet?’

  At the sound of Grace’s voice, Logan roused from an uncomfortable, restless sleep, in which he’d sat upright on his future mother-in-law’s couch, with Frankie’s head in his lap. He yawned and looked down at his watch, blinking at the sun coming in through the still-open curtains. They’d been in vigil here since yesterday morning, waiting for news of a new niece, cousin and granddaughter. Certain there’d be news during the night, he and Frankie had decided not to go to bed, promising Grace, Harriet, Ruth and Graham they’d wake them the moment Angus called.

  ‘No, not yet.’ He shook his head as he tried to work out how to stand to go to the bathroom without waking Frankie.

  Grace sighed and slumped down in the armchair across the room. ‘Mum’s been in labour for hours. Is that normal? What if something’s wrong with her? Or the baby?’

  She sounded close to tears and her panicked voice woke Frankie.

  ‘Has he called?’ Frankie asked as she shot upright into a sitting position, flinging off the heavy blanket that had been keeping them warm. She ran a hand through her hair and Logan smiled, still amazed that she looked so gorgeous first thing in the morning.

  ‘No.’ He squeezed her hand and looked to Grace with a smile. ‘I wouldn’t pretend to be an expert on giving birth but I’m sure if there was a problem, Angus would call us. The way I’ve heard it, long labours are not unusual.’

  ‘Except this is Simone’s third baby,’ Frankie said, sounding uncertain, ‘and her other labours were relatively easy and quick.’

  Logan turned to see her forehead furrowed in concern. Great, now he had two panicked women on his hands.

  ‘See?’ Grace glared at him and then looked to Frankie. ‘Oh, Aunty Eff. I’m scared.’

  ‘Look, ladies,’ Logan said, trying to sound confident, ‘stressing is not going to help anything. Let’s get dressed, eat something and then we’ll go and wait at the hospital.’

  The commotion had awoken the rest of the household. Harriet, Ruth and Graham all appeared, wearing dressing gowns and slippers. Logan couldn’t help thinking how much easier it would have been if it was the middle of summer, rather than a particularly cool autumn.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Harriet asked, rubbing her eyes. ‘Has Mum had the baby yet?’

  ‘No!’ Grace shrieked and rushed at her grandmother. ‘Do you think something bad has happened, Granny?’

  ‘Now, now,’ Ruth said, smoothing her hand over Grace’s hair. ‘Don’t work yourself into a state. I’ll make us all some breakfast and maybe they’ll have called by the time we’ve eaten it.’

  Breakfast was a subdued occasion. Everyone’s mobile phones were on the table and nobody spoke for staring at them, willing them to make a sound. Logan had tried to call Angus but it had gone straight to voicemail and even he was starting to get a little sick in the gut. Nobody ate much and eventually they all decided to go with his plan and head to the hospital.

  The weather was terrible—thunder roaring above them, lightning flashing across the sky and rain so heavy that even a person without his vision issues would find it hard to see the road ahead.

  ‘I’ll drive,’ Frankie announced, smiling knowingly at him.

  ‘You sure?’ he asked. He knew she was stressed but he wouldn’t be confident driving in these conditions.

  ‘Of course.’

  They all piled into her hatchback, the girls deciding to go with him and Frankie because she drove faster than Graham. After trying to make small talk with them to no avail, Logan tried to relax into the seat for the rest of the journey. He thought about how much had changed in the past whirlwind of a year. He was well on the way to learning Braille and adapting his life in preparation for future hurdles. He’d taken the job in Geraldton and Frankie was talking about moving there with him and opening a second café. It didn’t seem five minutes since he’d found out about his deteriorating vision, but at the same time it felt like he’d been part of this crazy family for much longer than he had.

  Frankie had given him hope of a good future, no matter how bad his eyesight got, and Simone had breathed life back into Angus. Olivia, who he’d texted to meet them at the hospital, already loved Frankie, Simone, Harriet and Grace like sisters and was so excited about the prospect of having a niece that she’d taken up knitting. Her first project was a pair of pink booties that Logan swore were far too small to fit an actual human.

  ‘Are we there yet?’ Grace asked, bouncing in the back seat.

  ‘Almost,’ he and Frankie said in unison. He smiled—they often said the same thing at the same time. Sometimes he honestly wondered if she could read his mind, but he didn’t care if she could.

  Just as they were turning into the car park at St John of God Hospital, all four mobile phones in the car beeped, signalling a message. After waiting for news forever, everyone jumped.

  ‘Is it them?’ Frankie asked and Logan could see her grip tighten on the steering wheel. ‘What does it say?’

  Harriet—her phone permanently in her hand anyway—was the first to open the message. ‘She’s here,’ she squealed, sounding more like an excited child than he’d ever heard her before. ‘Apparently labour didn’t progress as it should but they got her out and she’s perfect. Mum’s good too,’ she added. ‘There’s a spot over there, Aunty Eff. Hurry.’

  Grace’s earlier anxiety was forgotten. ‘I’m a big sister! I’m a big sister! I’m a big sister!’

  Logan laughed, glancing over at Frankie as she parked the car.

  She sighed as she pulled the key out of the ignition and looked over to him. ‘Congratulations, Uncle Logan,’ she said, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

  ‘Congratulations yourself, Aunty Eff,’ he replied, leaning over and putting his hand behind her head to draw her lips to his. Who cared about the weather? This had to be pretty much the most perfect day ever.

  ‘Will you two lovebirds quit that?’ Harriet was already out the car and rapping on the windscreen with her black talons. ‘
We have a little sister to meet!’

  * * *

  ‘She’s magic.’ Angus leaned over and kissed his new wife on the forehead as he stroked his newborn daughter’s silky, soft head. Wrapped in pink muslin, her skin the same pale shade as her mother’s, she looked like a porcelain doll. ‘You did well, darling.’

  Even though Simone was still lying on the operating table, all sweaty, red and exhausted from a twenty-hour labour followed by an emergency caesarean, she beamed in the way only a woman who had just brought a new life into the world could. And he, dressed head to toe in navy blue theatre scrubs, felt like the luckiest guy alive. They stayed like that, simply gazing at their little miracle, for about two minutes, before Simone said, ‘I don’t think she looks like a Charlotte, do you?’

  He frowned and he looked from her to their daughter. They’d spent the last four months—ever since they’d found out they were having a girl—arguing about names and had finally settled on Charlotte Rose. ‘I’m not sure you look like anything when you’re only five minutes old,’ he told her.

  She laughed and then winced, indicating that the epidural was already wearing off.

  ‘Sorry. Are you all right?’ he asked, hating to see her in any further pain. ‘Do you want me to take her?’

  ‘Yes, please. My arms are a little shaky.’ She nodded, smiling at their girl as he lifted the baby off her and cradled her in his arms. She was so tiny and perfect. He’d forgotten how little newborns were.

  ‘So did you have something else in mind?’

  ‘I was thinking Celeste Ruth,’ Simone said.

  A lump formed in his throat. ‘Celeste was my mother’s name.’

  ‘I know. And Ruth is mine. Do you like it?’

  ‘Celeste Ruth.’ He tried the name on for size as he rocked their little bundle. The baby opened up her eyes at the sound of his voice and his heart melted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shed tears but he sure as hell shed them now.

  ‘You big baby,’ Simone said, her tone warm and amused. ‘I guess this means you either hate it or love it.’

  He blinked back the tears and laughed, loving the fact that after being awake for almost thirty-six hours, Simone could still see the humour in things. ‘I love it. Celeste Ruth Knight,’ he said again, putting his little finger in the palm of his daughter’s minuscule hand. ‘Almost as much as I love the two of you.’

  ‘Oh, stop.’ Simone shook her head. ‘You’ll turn me into a big blubbering mess as well. Do you think they’re going to move me to a room soon? Or should I try to feed Celeste in here?’

  The middle-aged, motherly midwife who’d been hovering nearby approached them. ‘Your obstetrician has given you the all clear and the pediatrician said your baby is perfect, so I’m just waiting on an orderly to take you to your room. Shouldn’t be more than five minutes but I’m happy to help you feed her here if you’d like?’

  ‘Nah, it’s okay. I’ll have a five-minute rest,’ Simone replied.

  The midwife chuckled and Angus grinned, not at all upset about having to hold his girl for little longer. ‘I reckon you deserve it,’ he said.

  True to her word, the midwife introduced them to an orderly just under five minutes later, then together they pushed Simone, holding Celeste in her arms, to her room with Angus walking alongside them.

  ‘I’ll stay with you and help you with your first feed,’ said the midwife once she’d settled Simone into her bed. ‘This your first baby?’

  Simone shook her head. ‘Number three.’

  The midwife smiled. ‘One for you, one for him and one for the country, eh? Good work. Are your other two boys or girls?’

  ‘Two girls,’ Simone said, ‘but—’

  Before she could explain further the midwife chuckled and turned to look at Angus. ‘Ooh, three princesses! Completely outnumbered, aren’t you, love? And I bet they all have you wrapped around their little fingers.’

  Simone looked at him, discomfort flashing across her face, but he grinned and nodded at the midwife. ‘They sure do. As does their mother. I’m a lucky man.’

  And this was one hundred per cent the truth. Over the past eight and a half months, he’d grown to love sweet little Grace and feisty Harriet in a way he could never have anticipated. Grace had been having counselling for her eating disorder and was ecstatic to be living on the farm. She’d already made him promise to teach her all the tricks of the trade. Harriet couldn’t wait to be a big sister again. He thought of them both as his own and truly loved them as much as he did Simone and little Celeste.

  He’d lay down his life for all of them and Lord forbid any boy break any of their hearts, because he had a gun and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

  ‘Ah, you’re a natural at this,’ the midwife told Simone, jolting Angus back to the present.

  He stared down at his woman and child and had to agree. Simone’s chest was bare and Celeste nuzzled against her, her tiny hand resting on her mother’s breast as she made quiet suckling noises. The picture before him was more perfect than any postcard sunrise and even if he didn’t have a camera to take a photo—which he did—he knew it was a moment he’d remember forever.

  Marriage, babies, new directions … none of this might have been in any of their plans, but sometimes the best things in life were unexpected. And from now on, Angus Knight was just gonna go with the flow.

  Acknowledgements

  As usual I am in debt to a number of people who helped or supported me during the writing and publication of Outback Sisters.

  My first thanks must go to my publisher, Sue Brockhoff, and the awesome team at Harlequin who work behind the scenes on my books. There are so many of you who do so much that I’m now too scared to list you all in case I miss someone. But know I appreciate you all and everything you do.

  Thanks to my brilliant editor, Lachlan Jobbins, who always makes my least favourite part of writing a book not so bad after all and also Kylie Mason who helped edit this time around.

  To my agent Helen Breitwieser, who is always so enthusiastic about my books and works damn hard to make sure others all over the world will one day be able to read them as well.

  Thank you to my die-hard readers and all the reviewers who have taken time to read my books—with a special shout-out to those who send me lovely emails, chat on Facebook or write glowing reviews.

  I think most writers suffer doubt at some stage or another during the writing of every book. Because the plot of Outback Sisters was a little bit complicated, this doubt came to me in spades about halfway through when I was certain the story was ridiculous. Without my faithful writing support crew (aka the buddies who understand the voices in my head) I may never have finished—so thank you to all who hold my hand and chivvy me on, you know who you are.

  And a special mention to lovely readers Julie Hutchins—you know why—and Bec Climie for the vodka oranges (you naughty girl, you).

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  ISBN: 9781760374204

  TITLE: Outback Sisters

  First Australian Publication 2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Rachael Johns

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
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