by Bonnie Leon
“It’s a condition women sometimes get after having a baby. We don’t know what causes it. It’s fairly common.”
“Will she be all right?” Willa asked.
The doctor lowered his eyes slightly. “I think we ought to let Rebecca rest.” Before anything more could be said, he walked out of the room.
Willa and Mildred followed the doctor into the hallway. Daniel strode down the corridor toward them.
Dr. Walker cleared his throat, glancing at Daniel. “I’ll be honest. It’s not good.”
“What do you mean . . . not good?” Mildred demanded. “I thought you said this was common.”
“It is common, but sometimes . . . women die.”
“Die? No. Not Rebecca,” Daniel said.
Her eyes filling with tears, Willa pressed a hand to her mouth. “No. I won’t believe that. Rebecca’s strong and healthy. She had a bit of difficulty with the birth, but she did well.”
“What can we do?” Mildred asked, her voice weak and trembling.
Dr. Walker reached in his bag and pulled out a bottle. “Give her this for the pain. Allow her to rest. She may recover.”
“Give her something for pain? That’s all you’re offering?” Daniel gazed at the bottle of medicine. “There must be something else we can do.”
“Lily gave her some tea made from eucalyptus leaves. Do you think that will help?” Willa asked.
“Some of the aborigine potions work. I’ve seen them be effective. It won’t hurt to try.” Dr. Walker rested a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “I wish I could do more.”
“She’s not going to die,” Daniel said vehemently. “You can do something.”
“I wish I could. But it’s not up to me. I’m sorry.”
“No! I don’t believe you.”
“Daniel, hush. She’ll hear you,” Willa whispered.
Daniel balled his hands into fists.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” the doctor said and walked away.
Daniel glared at his back, then taking a shuddering breath, he turned and walked into Rebecca’s room.
The shades were drawn, making the room look dark. Rebecca slept, her breaths slow and shallow. Daniel sat on the chair beside the bed, took her hand, and pressed it to his cheek.
Opening her eyes, Rebecca looked at him and managed to smile. “Daniel,” she whispered.
“Hello, luv. What’s this? You’re getting sick when you have a son to look after, eh? I’d say it’s just a shrewd way to get out of work.” He forced himself to smile.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. I don’t know how it happened. I just woke up feeling terrible. I’m sure it will pass.”
“Right.” Daniel kissed her hand.
“I’ll be all right. I’m certain of it.”
Daniel sucked in a breath. “Yeah. That’s what the doc said. Things will be right as rain in a few days.”
“I’m so tired. I’m going to sleep for a while. All right?”
“I’ll be ’ere.”
The sound of a didgeridoo echoed from somewhere outside. Its deep-throated hum resonated in Daniel’s heart. Tears pressed against the back of his eyes.
“Is that Woodman?” Rebecca asked.
“Maybe. He’s a good one with the didgeridoo.”
Rebecca managed to nod slightly and then closed her eyes.
Daniel gazed at her. Lord, please don’t take her from me. I can’t live without her. And Joseph needs his mum. Daniel choked down a sob.
Hours passed, and then a night and another day. Rebecca grew weaker. She slept mostly, rousing only for sips of Lily’s special tea and water. Daniel remained at her side. Callie, Willa, and Mildred came often to sit with him and to help nurse Rebecca.
The second day, Cambria and Jim came to visit. When Cambria started to step into Rebecca’s room, Jim released her hand and remained outside the door.
“Jim?”
“I better stay out here,” he said.
Daniel moved to the door.
Jim rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “How you holding up, mate?”
“Not so good.”
“I’ll be here if you need me,” Jim said. “Anything I can do, let me know.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said and returned to Rebecca’s bedside.
Cambria stood over the bed, staring at Rebecca. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her face looked splotchy. She fought tears. “Is she any better?”
Daniel shook his head no.
Cambria leaned close to Rebecca and spoke to her. “Ya can’t die. Fight, Rebecca. Stay with us. Please. I couldn’t bear it . . .” She couldn’t finish what she wanted to say. Instead, she kissed Rebecca’s cheek and then straightened. Tears brimming, she looked at Daniel. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Covering her mouth with her hand, Cambria walked out of the room.
The next evening Rebecca roused slightly. Daniel caught her staring at him. He’d dozed off in the chair. “Rebecca?” he asked.
“I’m thirsty,” she croaked.
Daniel smiled and grabbed a glass of water that had been sitting on the bed stand. “Evening, luv,” he said, helping her to sit. “’Ere you go.” He held the glass to her lips.
Rebecca managed a few sips, and then Daniel lowered her back to the bed. “You don’t feel so hot.”
“I think I might be better,” she said feebly.
“I’ll get Mum.” Daniel sprinted to the door. “Mum! Mildred! Lily!” He returned to Rebecca.
The women hurried into the room, Mildred first. “What is it? Is she all right?” Mildred moved to Rebecca’s side, staring at her niece.
“Yes. She’s better.” Daniel smiled.
Rebecca managed to look at her aunt. “I . . .” She swallowed and licked cracked lips. “I want to see my baby. Where is he?”
Callie stood in the doorway. Wearing a broad smile, she said, “I’m roight glad ta hear yer voice, mum. And I’ll get Joseph.” She walked to the nursery.
“Praise the Lord,” Mildred said, hugging Rebecca. “You’ve been so sick.”
“I knew you would prevail,” Willa said, laying a hand on Rebecca’s arm.
“It’s the tea. I seen it work before.” Lily grinned. “Good stuff. Ya keep drinkin’ it and ya’ll get well roight soon.”
Callie walked in, carrying Joseph. She handed him to Daniel. “He’ll be glad ta see his mum.”
Rebecca’s eyes went to her son. “Oh, he’s so beautiful.” Tears glistened. “I was afraid I’d never be a mum to him again.”
Daniel leaned in close and settled the infant next to Rebecca. With Daniel’s help, she cuddled her son. “Joseph, this is Mummy.” The baby responded by opening his eyes and gazing at Rebecca’s face.
“Ah, you see. He knows you,” Mildred said.
Smiling, Rebecca kissed his cheek. “Mummy loves you.”
Rebecca sat on the veranda, the cradle beside her. Taking a deep breath, she breathed in morning air. The day would heat up, but for now the warm breeze worked with the roses, geraniums, lavender, and wisteria to create a sweet-smelling aroma that wafted over the porch.
It felt good to be well and strong. In fact, today she planned on picnicking. Gazing down at her son, she felt the powerful love that had overtaken her. She never tired of looking at him.
She’d found being a mother a challenge. Everything about it was new to her. She hadn’t even known how to change a nappy. And she had been petrified to bathe Joseph for the first time. Willa had refused to do it for her, but she’d stood beside Rebecca and offered support and guidance. Now Rebecca felt more proficient at such tasks. With each passing day she and Joseph both grew stronger.
Mildred stepped onto the veranda. “Oh, there you two are,” she said, bending over to peer at the baby. “What an angel.”
“He is a good baby.”
“Why, I’ve never known a child to be so content.” Mildred straightened and brushed a free strand of hair back into place. She gazed at the carriage house, where Wo
odman worked on the surrey.
Worry lines etched Mildred’s forehead.
“What is it, Auntie? Something’s troubling you. Does it have anything to do with Woodman?”
“Oh, heaven’s no. I’ve just been wondering what life would have been like for me if I’d had someone to share it with.”
“You had me and Father.”
“That’s not the same.” Mildred looked at Rebecca kindly. “It’s not that I didn’t love you . . .”
“I understand.”
Mildred settled in a chair across from Rebecca and folded her hands in her lap.
“There is something wrong. What is it?”
“I’m fine, really.” She wet her lips. “It’s just that I had more than one reason for coming here . . . to Queensland.”
The baby whimpered, and Rebecca rocked the cradle with her foot.
“My brother-in-law has an accountant who comes to the house quite regularly. In truth, he’s more a friend to Sterling than a business associate.” She pulled a handkerchief from beneath her blouse cuff and twisted it between her hands. “Anyway, over time he and I have become friends . . .”
“Auntie, are you saying you have a suitor?” Rebecca asked with delight.
Mildred didn’t answer right away. “I suppose I do,” she finally said, uncertainty touching her pale blue eyes. “I just don’t know what to do about him.”
“Is there something wrong with him?”
“Oh no. He’s a fine man, a perfect gentleman.”
“Do you love him?”
Mildred rubbed her thumb across an embroidered flower on the handkerchief. “I don’t know. Perhaps. At this late juncture how does one really know such a thing?”
“I don’t know, Auntie. But it seems to me that love is love no matter how old a person is.”
Mildred tucked the handkerchief back in place beneath her cuff.
“And what does he have to do with your being here?”
Mildred’s head bobbed up, and she looked straight at Rebecca. “He asked me to marry him. And I just couldn’t face him.”
“For heaven’s sake, why not?”
“I . . . I don’t know what to tell him. So coming to visit you seemed appropriate. And seeing that Chavive had a safe journey gave me a good reason to visit, as well as seeing you of course.”
“You ran away . . . to Australia.”
“I suppose I did.”
“Why?”
Mildred studied perfectly manicured nails. “I can’t marry him. I can’t marry anyone. I’m far too old for that kind of thing.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re quite youthful . . . for someone your age. And when you were young didn’t you plan to marry one day?”
“Yes, but Mother and Father needed me. I couldn’t leave them.”
“Oh, Auntie. It’s your turn now.”
Mildred shook her head. “I don’t know . . . it’s too late for me. I’m very set in my ways. And although his wife died several years ago, I’m certain he still loves her. I don’t want to be a substitute for someone else. I’m not up to that.”
“That may be, but how do you know he feels that way?”
“I see it all the time, the way he talks about her and how she’s still a part of his life.”
“I don’t see that as being so unusual.” Joseph let out a small wail, and Rebecca picked him up. “As much as I love having you here, I think you ought to go back. This may be your only chance for love.”
Mildred looked a bit bewildered. “I don’t know. I need time to think.”
“You can stay as long as you like, but . . . well, your suitor may not wait.”
Mildred lifted her eyebrows. “I won’t be coerced.”
Wearing a mischievous smile, Rebecca said, “All right, then. I won’t push.”
With Joseph in her arms, Rebecca walked down the staircase. The house seemed empty and quiet. She peeked into the study.
Willa sat at her writing desk, pen in hand and stationery in front of her. She looked up and smiled. “Good day, Rebecca. And how’s my grandson?”
“He’s wonderful. His tummy is full and he’s content.” Rebecca walked into the room. It enveloped her as a sanctuary might. Heavy curtains shut out much of the late morning sunlight. The furnishings were made of deep mahogany, and an Oriental rug covered a large portion of the floor. Heavy bookcases held hundreds of books. “I remember being afraid of this room.”
“Afraid of it?”
“Yes. It was the place I’d have to face Bertram when I was in trouble.” She rested a hand on Bertram’s desk and gazed about the room. “Now it feels peaceful here.”
Willa smiled softly. “Yes. I rather like it. I can feel his presence.”
Rebecca nodded and then asked, “Are you writing a letter?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. To my aunt Ada. She lives in Melbourne. I thought she’d be thrilled to hear the news about the baby. Last time she wrote she mentioned a desire to come up on holiday, but it’s just too much for her. She’ll be eighty-six in February.”
“Oh. I would have enjoyed meeting her.” Rebecca gently patted Joseph’s back.
“She’s a sweet woman. I miss her.” Willa set down her pen. “I was hoping to make a trip down soon. Would you be interested in accompanying me?”
“To Melbourne?”
“Yes. It’s a lovely city. We might actually attend a concert or go to the ballet.”
“That sounds wonderful! When do you want to go?”
“I was thinking possibly in November. The weather is so hot here at that time of year, and Melbourne is much cooler. It would be a nice change for us.”
“Sounds just right. Joseph will nearly be a year old, and I ought to be an expert at mothering by then.” She glanced down at her son, who slept on her shoulder.
“Right. We’ll plan on it, then. I’ll tell her to expect us.” Willa smiled and picked up her pen again.
“I was hoping you would like to accompany Mildred, Daniel, and me on a picnic this afternoon at the billabong.”
“That sounds lovely. I won’t be long. We’ll have Lily prepare something.”
“All right. I’ll speak to Daniel. That is, if he’s working nearby. Do you know where he is?”
“I thought he said something about a job that needed to be done in the barn.”
“That’s lucky. He’s been working so hard, I barely see him. I thought it would be nice if we had a family outing.”
“It would be delightful.”
Keeping Joseph cradled against her shoulder, Rebecca walked into the kitchen where Lily was baking bread. “Lily, could you make a picnic for the family? We’re going to the billabong.”
“Roight, mum. I can do that.”
“Wonderful.” Feeling carefree, Rebecca hurried through the kitchen and out the back porch door. Supporting Joseph with one hand, she lifted her skirts with the other as she walked toward the barn. I hope Daniel’s here. The smell of hay greeted her as she stepped into the shadows of the barn. It reminded her of the stables back home. She glanced about. “Daniel?”
“I’m ’ere,” he called from a back stall.
Rebecca moved toward the sound of his voice. When she reached the stall, she stood at the gate. “Here you are. How lucky for me that you’re working close to home.”
Daniel pounded a nail into the wall and straightened. “Needed to replace a few boards ’ere.” He glanced at the walls and roof. “A lot of it needs repair. It’s getting a bit old.”
“When was it built?”
“Before I was born.”
With a grin Rebecca said, “That means it’s very old, then.” She leaned a hip on the gate. “I was wondering if you’d join Joseph and me for a picnic lunch at the billabong.”
Daniel thought a moment. “I’d like that, but I’ve got a lot to do, luv.”
“You have to eat no matter how busy you are.”
“Right. But to go down to the billabong and relax and visit with you would take m
ore time than I have. A place like this never really lets go of a man. The work never ends.”
“That’s my point. The work will never end. It will still be here tomorrow, so I was hoping you’d make time for us today.”
Daniel moved close to Rebecca and rested a hand on one shoulder. Gazing down at his son, he said quietly, “I want to. I do. It’s just that right now is a bad time.”
Rebecca wanted to get angry, but she knew all stations required a lot from their owners. “It would be lovely to spend time together.”
“I wish I could. But how would it look if I went off and had a picnic with my beautiful wife and young son while the men worked?”
“Don’t you think they’d understand?”
“Maybe, but it’s not right. And if I stopped work every time I wanted to, we wouldn’t have a station. I thought you understood.”
“I do.” Rebecca tried not to pout. She knew he spoke the truth. “It’s just that I miss you. We’ve barely seen you the last couple of weeks.”
Daniel planted a kiss on Rebecca’s forehead and smiled down at his son. “I’ll make time. I promise. Just not today.” He took Joseph’s hand in his. The baby grasped his finger. “He’ll know me well. I’ll see to it.” He kissed the tiny fist.
“You work too hard. Since your father died your time has been consumed with this station.”
“It’s a big station. I’ve no choice. I’ve never had to oversee the entire operation. I’ve a lot to learn.” He caressed Joseph’s nearly bald head. “You go along and have your picnic. A bit of bread and cheese will do me just fine. I’ll try to join you next time.”
“All right. We’ll see you at dinner, then?”
“I’ll be there.” Daniel lifted his hat slightly and smiled. His cheek dimpled and his blue eyes crinkled, turning down at the corners the way they always did.
Rebecca could feel the tremble of her heart. Then sadly she turned and walked back toward the house. She stopped. She had more to say.
Returning to the stall, she said, “Daniel, I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I think you’re pushing yourself too hard.” Joseph whimpered and Rebecca patted his back. “You think you’ve got to be like your father.”
