But she didn’t care about any of that just now. She needed to question the intensivist nurse with the chart, peer over her shoulder at the patient records. See improvements in the vital signs.
Eve glanced from her sister to Lex, saw the reflection in his eyes of all the women she’d briefly mentioned to him, the ones she’d fought for over the past few years on her high-dependency roster. She could see he knew her fear for Callie, who miraculously breathed for herself while she slept off her anaesthetic.
Eve just wanted to know that when Callie woke up she’d be fine – and, as if in answer to an unspoken plea, Lex stepped up to Eve and rested his hand on her shoulder, gripped it, and she could feel his conviction that she had saved her sister and niece. Lex’s faith that all would be well, a cross she usually bore for others, was now being given to her. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be reassured.
A nurse came in and updated them on Bennet’s progress. He’d been freed from the vehicle, was stable and conscious, and had arrived in Charleville for orthopaedic surgery. Lex left her then, promising to return, but Eve forgot Lex as soon as he was out of sight. She didn’t take her eyes off her sister.
Callie knew she had to wake up. There was a reason she had to fight the grey mist and reach for the pain that hovered at the edge of her awareness – something that filled her with a cold dread that she needed to know.
She wasn’t alone because she could hear small sounds – a chair shifting, the rustle of paper – and she forced her heavy eyelids to lift just a little.
Light. So it was daytime. The heaviness descended again and her world dimmed. Until she remembered the roaring horror of the accident, the shock of the impact, the non-response of Bennet, Adam’s cries.
And then she remembered the blood. And that she was going to die.
Her fingers clenched on the sheet and as the power to move slowly returned to do her bidding, her hand inched from her chest where it lay, down to the source of her pain. Her abdomen. A hollow abdomen, like seven years ago when she had woken, and she knew her baby was gone.
*
At four o’clock Eve turned from the window and saw Callie’s fingers clench and stretch and her eyelids flutter. Eve’s own heart fluttered in response.
She took a precious few seconds to slip out to the desk and ask them to phone the nursery for baby. When she hurried back Callie’s eyes flickered and then slowly opened.
Eve reached down and gently took Callie’s hand in both of hers as her sister’s eyes focused. ‘It’s okay, Callie. There was an accident. Bennet and Adam are fine.’
Callie blinked and shifted her head on the pillow. Her mouth moved in a small circle of distress as she shifted her position. ‘Eve?’
It was a croak but to Eve’s ears it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Callie recognised her. Eve’s throat felt thick and clogged and she wanted to answer but the words wouldn’t come. All she could do was nod enthusiastically and squeeze her sister’s hand.
Then Callie’s eyes welled with tears and her distress filled the little room like a swarm of black moths. ‘My baby’s gone? Again?’
Tears burned and stung as Eve shook her head vehemently. She’d so hoped to spare dear Callie this. ‘No, no. Not gone. Coming. She’s beautiful.’
And just then the sound of a hospital bassinet’s wheels rattled in and, even better, the sound of an unhappy baby filled the little white room at the end of the intensive care unit. Callie gasped and tried to see and Eve hurried to raise the head of the bed and scoop the baby up in full view.
‘Here she is. Look.’
The world slowed down again. Callie’s dry lips parted in wonder as her small pink bundle of a baby was placed in her arms. And the baby stopped crying.
Callie held her awkwardly in the crook of her arm, drips and monitors at risk of dislodging as Eve unwrapped her so her mother could see perfect hands and feet.
Callie dripped tears on her owlish baby, as big round baby eyes – so much like Bennet’s – stared solemnly back. The baby’s tiny rosebud mouth opened and closed and every now and then a soft crimson tongue poked out like a little pink lizard.
‘Oh my.’ Callie stroked one tiny finger. ‘She’s a miracle. I’m so blessed.’
‘We all are.’ Though, Eve thought a little tartly, she’d seen much easier births. She snapped a photo on her phone of mother and baby and sent it through to Bennet, Sienna and Lex, and then remembered to make sure all the lines and monitors were not endangered.
Callie drooped as the adrenalin of seeing her baby wore off and the fatigue took over. ‘When is Bennet coming? And Adam?’
‘He’s here. Downstairs, just out of surgery and stable. You’ll see him tomorrow probably. And Adam will come tomorrow too.’ It wasn’t the time to go into Bennet’s injuries. ‘I’ll help you feed this little munchkin – you don’t have to do anything – and then you can have another sleep. Just know everyone will be fine as soon as you get well.’
She could see a hundred questions half formed in her sister’s eyes but she could also see the absolute exhaustion.
Callie closed her eyes for a few seconds and then forced them open. ‘Let’s.’
A few pillows, a lot of help from Eve, and a voracious appetite from the youngest Wilson girl, even if she was a couple of weeks early, and soon there was a very contented baby and mother as they both drifted off to sleep.
Eve looked down at them and her shoulders slumped. God, they were so lucky. And she was so tired herself.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned, knowing in her heart it was Lex. The man had perfect timing and she relaxed back into him, feeling the absolute bliss of allowing herself to let go of responsibility. She turned, leaned into his solid chest and closed her eyes as his arms came around her.
‘They look very peaceful,’ he said softly into her hair.
Eve just held him. Buried her nose in his chest and let the tears fall. Eventually, calm came after the storm that had needed to break.
‘A peace hard come by,’ she said, rubbing her eyes and stepping back. ‘You are an amazing man with perfect timing.’
‘Happy to be of service.’
Eve smiled mistily. ‘She remembered me. She’s going to be fine.’
Lex’s shoulders dropped with relief and he steered her towards the chair. ‘Nobody survives that without scars but Callie is one of the strongest women I know.’ He smiled at her. ‘It’s a family trait.’
‘Sylvia, you mean?’ Eve thought about that, immediately feeling the sadness of loss for a woman she had grown to love. ‘That’s true.’
Lex laughed softly. ‘Yes, Sylvia.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘But I meant you. Even the atrocious Sienna is one tough woman. I expect all you Wilson women would have survived out here with the pioneering Duracks 140 years ago. Though I have my doubts about your oldest sister enjoying the experience.’
‘Sienna’s the toughest.’ Eve shook her head, remembering. ‘You should have seen her perform that caesarean. I’ve never seen one so skilled and fast. We would have lost Callie and her baby if it wasn’t for Sienna.’
He pointed to the chair and handed her a sandwich wrapped in paper and a bottle of iced tea. Maybe he didn’t want to think about it, so she let the subject drop.
He said, ‘Eat. Drink. You must be exhausted too.’ Then he muttered, more to himself, ‘I heard we would have lost Callie if it wasn’t for you.’
She brushed that aside. ‘Have you heard how Bennet is going?’
‘He’s out of theatre. Surprisingly simple fracture to one leg but plated and stable now. They hope he’ll be well enough to visit tomorrow.’
‘And you said Adam was fine and with Delta?’ She thought back. ‘He looked shocked but healthy.’
‘Didn’t get a scratch. The big fright he might lose his dad after losing his mum hit him hard. It might take a while for him to get over the shock.’
‘Poor little man. At least now he’s seen how tough they are.’
‘He’s spoken to his dad on the phone.’
‘When Callie wakes next time we’ll ring Bennet and she can talk to him. He’ll be beside himself.’
Lex watched her eat absently, not tasting, just doing what she needed to do to stay alert. ‘How long are you staying?’ he asked.
‘Until Bennet is well enough to take my place. I can help with the baby, which means Callie won’t miss out on the little stuff. She doesn’t deserve to miss out on anything.’
He nodded. ‘Of course.’ There was dryness in his tone she didn’t understand. ‘I have to head home now.’
Oh. She hadn’t thought of that. It had been so easy having Lex streamline everything. She needed to get out of that mindset.
‘Thank you for bringing me.’ It didn’t touch the sides of the huge assistance Lex had given her. She wished he wouldn’t go but hesitated to ask him to stay. ‘I would have been beside myself if I had to wait to get here.’ She glanced at the room they’d been ushered straight into, thanks to Lex’s authority.
‘You’re welcome. Do you want me to fly back tomorrow and pick you up?’
She had to smile at that. Her own personal helicopter pilot. A girl could get spoiled.
‘You’ve got too much to do. Sienna can come to get me after clinic tomorrow.’
‘As you wish,’ he said formally, and Eve wondered if she’d offended him, then brushed that silly thought away. Lex didn’t need her dramas. Probably couldn’t wait to get away.
He seemed to be waiting for something and Eve waved to her lunch. ‘Thanks for the food. Great thought. I was feeling a bit weak.’
He smiled wryly at her. ‘I know you like to eat. And they have a bed in the nurses’ home for the next few nights if you want it. The supervisor will drop off the key later.’
He shook his head at her, glanced once more at the picture of mother and baby and then lifted one hand in farewell. ‘Phone me if you or Callie need anything.’
‘Thanks again, Lex.’
‘Yep,’ he said simply and left Eve staring at the empty doorway. Had she missed something?’
THIRTY-TWO
At the crash site Sienna was left with the ambulance.
After Bennet had been prised from the wreckage and stabilised before being flown out, she’d spoken briefly to him about Callie and the baby. Now that he’d gone, Sienna knew she had to drive the bloody ambulance home.
Thankfully Douglas had turned the cumbersome vehicle around for her after she’d stalled it twice, because this ghastly beast was nothing at all like her little red baby car, and she shuddered at the thought of having to clean it when she got back. She guessed she’d have to because she couldn’t leave it to Eve. And she couldn’t pay some kid fifty bucks to do it, like she did with her car, though she wanted to. She grumbled and moaned all the way home and told herself she wished she was back in Melbourne, but all she really wanted was to not think about the last four hours.
Back at Red Sand she drove the vehicle awkwardly into the parking bay and the whole horror of the situation crashed in on her. Her head sank into her hands on the wheel and she shuddered for a few long seconds.
If Eve hadn’t been there, so single-minded and determined that Callie would live, they would have lost her in Bennet’s car. She would have bled to death and cardiac-arrested right there as her blood supply seeped rapidly away from the sheared placenta.
She opened the door and climbed wearily out. Reluctantly she opened the rear doors, sighing at the gore.
Clean. It wasn’t going to happen unless she got started. She reefed the linen off the stretcher and bundled the sheet and towels into the skip at the side of the carport. Grabbed another towel and swirled it over the stretcher and floor, grabbed another to do it again. Poured the cleaning agent straight from the bottle and splashed it around rather than use the piddly little spray.
God, she thought as she scrubbed and cleared the traces of Callie’s fight for life from the vehicle. It should have been her to see that the emergency caesarean was still a chance. It should have been the hotshot, wannabe director of obstetrics, not Poor Eve the midwife, who couldn’t even sort her own world. Sienna may have done the surgery but Eve had saved Callie’s life, without a doubt.
She dragged herself into the shower at the medical centre; no way was she walking down the street covered in blood. As the cleansing water poured over Sienna’s face and turned dried blood to red trickles that ran down her legs and between her toes, she scrubbed the blood from beneath her nails and wished she could scrub the memories.
All she could see was Eve grinding out instructions. Directing her, Sienna, who should have known without being told, that it was the only chance they had. Eve had made them get Callie out of the car to somewhere they could work. Forced them all to consider that they still had a chance when Sienna had, in truth, given up in weak horror.
Why hadn’t she seen it?
Being too close to the victim didn’t cut it as an excuse because Eve had been on the ball. How had her little sister remained so focused that she could see immediately after Callie’s heart stopped that they wouldn’t be able to get her back without removing the baby?
It was such a big risk but Eve had called it within a doable time frame and despite the slim chance the stats were enormously better than if they did nothing.
‘Nothing’ was irretrievable. That was what she couldn’t forgive herself for.
Maybe she needed to rethink the little sister who she’d always assumed had her priorities wrong. God forbid if Sienna was the one with the screwed ideas.
Suddenly it didn’t seem so important that she became the youngest director of obstetrics in Australia. What was she going to do with it? Whose life would she change? What happened when she retired from the job in twenty-five years’ time?
More interestingly, who would be there to care if she faded away like Callie’s mother?
She knew she shouldn’t have come out here.
Bloody unsettling place.
But if Sienna hadn’t been there, Eve couldn’t have done the caesarean – she might have known what was needed, but didn’t have the knowledge to do it herself.
She was fiercely glad Callie hadn’t died at the side of the road.
Her half-sister. She’d better get used to it because it looked like Callie was going to be a part of their lives forever, even if she was thousands of kilometres away. And Sienna realised that she for one was very happy to be a part of Callie’s family.
Sienna turned the water off and grabbed the blue towels that, as Eve had pointed out, matched the walls. She stared at the painting of a sunrise over a red sandhill.
Who would have thought she’d be doing a perimortem caesarean when she came out here? She was supposed to have been doing research, except every day seemed to have a time-consuming crisis or dilemma that drew her away from her work.
She’d never had so many in-depth conversations with pregnant women before. Sienna had begun to gain an insight into the isolation, the improvisation required when things weren’t available, and grudgingly realised women out here had ‘let’s manage anyway’ down to a fine art. Eve seemed to have picked it up instantly while Sienna still battled with the shortfalls.
But it did bring home the disadvantage the outback women worked under, and not just the medical staff.
She thought back to the mail run Douglas had taken her on. His recounting of the history of Irish settlers with horse and cart and bullock drays, who struggled through drought and flood and the tyranny of distance. Pioneers she had a whole lot more respect for now.
He’d told her of women birthing on the road to untamed land, of losing babies, children and limbs in accidents, no refrigeration, wounds that turned septic with heat and pestilence, while there was no place to swab a wound, no way to treat it with antibiotics. That brought her back to why she was here. Saving babies. But really, from all the medical records she’d read and data she’d collected, it was clear the RFDS and the flying obstet
rician and the outreach clinics did an amazing job.
The only minor improvement the clinic could possibly make would be keeping an extra tab on sexually transmitted infections. Chlamydia was prevalent, with staggering numbers of eighteen-to- twenty-five-year-olds carrying the infection, and the asymptomatic infection could cause the premature rupture of membranes, as well as damaging the fertility of women who remained untreated. Maybe some were being missed on the swabs? They could do a second test for it mid or late trimester as a safe guard. There had been another centre where this had happened. Sienna remembered the root-cause analysis she’d sat in on.
Otherwise the service these women received was covering all bases. Blanche could spend her money on something else. Sienna had checked every single thing; this new clinic would more than make up for any shortfalls the location caused, and she was ready to go home.
Sienna retreated to her office down the end of the hallway. There was no way she could talk to people today. She planned to bury her nose in writing her report and hide even from herself. In the past she had managed that very successfully.
She stood up. Walked to the window. Saw Douglas outside, peering into the window of the ambulance, and her breath stilled. She began again as she took a step towards him, then stopped. The door rattled as he tried it, and then came a heavy knock.
He’d been amazing today. As solid as one of those big boulder opals they were so proud of around here, but not as colourful on the inside – there was a darkness in Douglas that called to her but she doubted she had the capacity to bring that light out in him. She’d tried. Sort of.
Sienna had been knocked back for her pains – except for those kisses on the mail run, if she remembered rightly. This place had certainly been good for bringing her down a peg or two. Or six.
Now he was one of the few people who she would share today’s more graphic moments with. She peered out the window again but he was gone and her chance to talk about it gone with him.
It would have been good to debrief. She shook her head. Since when had she started wanting to do that? This place really got to you and she couldn’t wait to leave.
Red Sand Sunrise Page 23
