Midwife in a Million (7 page)

Kate turned her back so she didn’t have to watch. She squashed down the ignoble voice that suggested she whisper to Rory not to wash his hands first. Why should she care about Rory looking after a woman from his past? She was glad he’d had a life. She should’ve had one herself.

Ten minutes later Rory and Kate were back on the
road. ‘How was poor Sybil’s dreadful ankle?’ Kate said and she didn’t even care that her sarcasm made Rory raise his eyebrows.

‘Only slightly swollen.’

‘What a surprise.’ Kate was steaming. ‘And they’ve made us even later. It’s almost dark.’

Rory wondered if her irritation was even a little out of proportion to the crime. The thought made him smile. ‘We couldn’t leave them stranded.’

Kate shook her head in disgust. ‘She could have done something to help.’

‘Some people are purely decorative. That’s Sybil.’ His sanity-saving mistake from the past.

Kate stared as if she didn’t know him and she jammed one hand on her hip as she turned. ‘How handy for decorative people. Wish I’d thought to be purely decorative.’

‘You were pretty decorative ten years ago.’

She tossed her hair. ‘I’ve changed, thank goodness.’ She glared out of the front of the vehicle as they drove along. ‘So where do you know her from?’

‘Sybil? From Sydney, more than a few years ago. She helped me when I was having a bad time.’ Like not long after I’d been dumped by you. ‘I worked in a nightclub on my days off and she was going out with the owner. Then she looked me up again in Perth.’

‘How nice for both of you. Spending quality time together. Well, it seems she was going to look you up in Jabiru. You must have made an impression on her.’

Knowing Sybil, she was much more devious than that, he thought. What would Kate think when he told her? There was a lot at stake here and she didn’t see it. He’d been so in love with Kate he couldn’t contemplate a relationship with another woman. Had told Sybil so. And, being a woman, she’d dragged a few details out of him. She’d always had a knack for remembering the wrong things. What would Kate say? Especially as she seemed to have taken an instant dislike to the other woman.

‘Actually, I think she was looking for you.’

Kate turned a startled face towards him. ‘Why on earth would she do that?’

So Kate was still oblivious to the damage she’d caused him. It shouldn’t hurt after all this time but it did. He’d meant so little to her. He really didn’t want to have to spell it out.

He forced a smile and chose diversion in the ridiculous. ‘You’re not jealous, are you, Kate?’

Her lip practically curled. ‘Spare me.’

He really did have to laugh at her disgust. He’d known she wasn’t, of course, but no harm in wishing. He went on to explain. ‘When I first met Sybil I may have used you as the excuse for not being married already.’ To hell with it; he’d just say it. ‘I said I’d left my heart in Jabiru. I didn’t mention your name.’

He waited for her to comment on that, say she was sorry, even laugh at the idea, but she didn’t say anything and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad
so he concentrated on the road ahead and tried to forget he’d mentioned it.

After a few minutes when she still didn’t offer any comment he looked across briefly at this militant woman who bore so little resemblance to the young girl he’d left ten years ago. Consciously he moved on from his own neediness. ‘So what’s your excuse?’

Now she looked at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Why aren’t you married, Kate? Why are you still single and childless when obviously you were born to be a wife and mother?’

She didn’t even look at him. ‘I’m afraid that’s none of your business.’

He could have ground his teeth in frustration. How could she say that? Rory turned to look at her profile. ‘On the contrary, once it was very much my business.’

Unfortunately he’d had his eyes off the road far too long and when he glanced back he realised the evening shadows had hidden a muddy section deeply scored from previous vehicles.

He veered heavily to the left so that the ambulance swung towards the edge of the road and even climbed a little up the bank. For a moment he thought they were going to make it around the quagmire but the truck slid off the bank with a slurp, stabbed the thick tyre with a lethally pointed branch on the way and then the wheels inevitably slowed in the wet bull dust mire until the truck sank to the axles and stopped.

They wouldn’t get out of this in a hurry. Bloody hell.

‘Oh, that’s great,’ Kate said and crossed her arms with a pained sigh.

Strangely, her ill humour repaired his own. Actually, he’d done pretty well to avoid tipping the truck over. He looked at her for a moment and then said, ‘Thrilled about it, myself. Looks like you’ve got my company longer than you anticipated.’ Her behaviour reminded him of a much younger Kate and, despite her obvious irritation, the possibilities were in fact quite intriguing now he thought about it.

‘Hmmph,’ Kate said. ‘You’re just lucky you’re not stuck here with Princess Sybil.’

‘I’d much rather be here with you,’ he said, tongue stuck firmly in cheek. Kate glared at him and opened her door and he watched her jump down and stomp off.

R
ORY
climbed out and surveyed their predicament, then started to whistle just to annoy her. He’d been in worse spots and the old Kate had never sulked long. That was another of the things he’d loved about her.

The road was a challenge but, well-equipped as they were, it would only take time. Something they didn’t have much of before dark. He glanced around for a good place to camp.

A few minutes later Kate sidled up to him and she didn’t quite meet his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Rory. I’m a cow.’

He grinned down at her. He remembered this Kate. Always brave enough to say when she’d been wrong. ‘Well, Daisy,’ he drawled—Daisy had been the house cow’s name when they were kids—‘we’d best winch our way out of this and set up camp back off the road. I’ll change tyres in the morning.’

Kate smiled warily back and Rory felt the lightest he’d felt all day. Just one smile and she had him. He
was as weak as water when it came to resisting Kate. Not much had changed.

They worked steadily for the next forty minutes as the light slipped away around them. Finally they’d extricated the truck and shifted onto higher ground on the bank so they wouldn’t endanger any of the infrequent night travellers.

‘You did well not to tip over when we hit the mud.’ Kate shook her head as she watched him open the door to get out. She glanced at the offending wheel. ‘And that’s one flat tyre.’

Rory jumped down. ‘Only on the bottom,’ he said facetiously and glanced around. ‘I’ll fix it tomorrow. Let’s wash up and get the camp sorted.’

‘I’ve set up a basin and the water bag on that log. If you want to wash I’ll grab some wood for a fire.’

He raised his brows and looked her up and down. ‘So you’re not just decorative.’

She narrowed her eyes at him with the comparison to Sybil. ‘You feel like living dangerously, McIver? Don’t start me. And I’ll have the stretcher in the back tonight in case it rains.’ She raised her eyebrows at him. ‘You can have it tomorrow night.’

He opened his eyes wide. ‘Gee. Thanks. We’ll be back in Jabiru by then.’ She shrugged, unsympathetic, so he pretended to sigh. ‘I’ll guess I’ll shake my swag out, then.’

She nodded and began to scoop up kindling and he watched her for a moment as she bent to pick up
another twig. She seemed more settled since her mini-tantrum when they’d stopped. More relaxed and he didn’t know why. But there was no doubt he was pleased to see it.

He glanced up at the sky; the clouds were breaking up a little for the moment. Hopefully, it wouldn’t rain tonight.

Half an hour later they had the campfire set like a crackling little tepee in the middle of a clearing. Kate sat on the ground on top of Rory’s swag with her knees drawn up and rested her back up against a blanket-covered log. Rory surveyed their campsite from where he leaned on a tree. They munched thick-cut cold beef sandwiches with homemade horseradish from Rainbow’s End Station against a big fat boab tree.

‘Mmm, mmm.’ Kate couldn’t remember when she’d last enjoyed food so much. The night air was cool, the fire crackled with orange flames and a few early stars twinkled in the gaps between the cloud cover now that it was dark. They were alone, the sky was enormous, and it brought back her deep love of the top end.

She glanced across at Rory; flashes of light from the fire illuminated the dark planes of his face. He was watching her. She realised he had been for a while and suddenly it wasn’t so good they were alone.

She didn’t want to talk about today and especially not about what had upset her. ‘So tell me about your rapid rise to fame, Mr McIver. How does a country
man like you make it so big in the cut-throat world of the city?’

Rory didn’t say anything immediately and for a moment she thought he was going to demand they talk about her. The seconds stretched and the crickets and frogs seemed to turn up the volume of the night while she waited.

When he spoke she realised how tensely she’d waited and forced herself to relax.

‘I decided early on that if I stayed in the Ambulance I’d have a big say in how things were run in the service.’ He looked at her. ‘So when I got your letter—’ He paused, and Kate watched him look away from her and she had the first inklings of how deeply she’d wounded him.

He went on, ‘I was gutted, couldn’t get back to Jabiru to talk to you, couldn’t get you on the phone, was trapped without holidays for another year and no money. I wrote letter after letter and when you didn’t write back I pushed myself to succeed and didn’t stop until I got there.’

So her father hadn’t forwarded them on. She wasn’t astonished, just sorry that she couldn’t have made it easier for Rory. ‘I didn’t get any letters.’

‘If you weren’t there it’s not surprising your father didn’t forward them on.’

Kate remembered the day before he’d left and the demoralising ridicule her father had heaped on him. She’d forgotten about that too, with all that had
happened after Rory had left. Would it have made a difference in her choices if she’d remembered earlier—and more of the reasons why Rory had left?

‘I’m sorry you were hurt. Go on.’

Rory brushed that away. ‘Not much to tell. I worked non-stop, applied for every course. I took every overtime shift, every relief senior position offered, even if they were way out in the bush, while I did other correspondence courses.’ He shrugged.

That amount of work wouldn’t have left much time for play. In fact, it sounded a lot like her. She’d taken little time to enjoy her life as well. She looked away. ‘As I said before, it sounds driven.’

‘Guess I was.’

She looked up at him and shaded her eyes from the brightness of the fire so she could see his face. ‘So why are you here now?’

His voice dropped. ‘Because I’ve come to a point where I need to clear what was between us before I can go any further.’

Kate balled the paper she’d unwrapped from her sandwiches and threw it in the fire. The silence between them stretched and she watched the flames curl around and blacken it until suddenly the paper burst into flame and was consumed. That was what would happen to her if she allowed Rory to expose her emotions.

‘I’ll ask again.’ Rory’s voice drifted from across the fire. ‘Why aren’t you married, Kate?’

She looked away and said the first thing that came into her mind. ‘I never found the right man.’

She heard Rory suck his breath in. ‘I was there.’ He stood up and shifted until he loomed above her, staring down; she could feel his gaze without looking. Then he edged in beside her and moved along until his hip nudged hers. The heat from Rory’s thigh against hers was even more flammable than the paper she’d just burned.

She reached forward for another stick and when she sat back she made sure there was a small gap between them; suddenly she could breathe again.

He frowned at her and moved his hip deliberately back against hers with a little bump, as if to say—this is where I’m staying. ‘How can you say you never found him? I was there,’ he said again.

‘You left.’ She didn’t look at him but she felt his gaze boring into her. There was no escaping from this Rory. He was onto her and she’d the feeling he wouldn’t be shut down like most people were when she put up her defences.

Rory sighed. ‘I left for both of us. If only it were that simple.’

She shot him a glance and then her eyes skittered away. ‘It was that simple.’

The walls, the walls, Rory thought, but at least she was talking. They needed to thrash this out and clear the air so he could see the future. ‘You wrote and said you didn’t love me. Sent my ring back. Why was that?’

She turned her face. ‘Things happened. I changed.’

What things? She was driving him insane. He shifted so he could more easily see her face. ‘Do you have any idea what that letter did to me? I was studying my butt off, we’d been writing every week, then out of the blue you threw away our dreams.’ He pulled his wallet from his shirt and opened the leather. ‘This letter.’

He dug into the back section and eased it out. Faded and dog-eared, the yellowed paper lay in his hand accusingly, looking up at her.

He watched her put her hand out and touch it gingerly, and then she pulled her hand away. This was what he’d come back for. This answer. These reasons.

Rory sat back and tilted to face her again. His voice lowered until it was barely audible over the crackle of the fire. ‘What happened, Kate? Tell me.’

She looked at him then and the same agony that had scared him at Rainbow’s End Station was back in her eyes.

Rory ached to know what had affected her so deeply but he knew he had to go gently.

‘I don’t want to,’ she said.

‘Please, Kate.’

She dragged her hands through her hair and looked around with a tinge of desperation. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight to ease her pain, only he wasn’t game to touch her in case he caused more damage or she jumped up and ran into the night.

Finally she began. ‘Do you remember the night before you left, Rory?’

Rory nodded. He’d never forget it. He and Kate under the old tree near the Pentecost after that horrific day. He’d had to drive somewhere off her father’s property to talk. Couldn’t say the things he had to under Lyle Onslow’s starry roof. He’d been so young then.

He hardened his heart against the desolation in her face and dug the knife into the tree to finish ‘4 ever’.

‘I’ll come back.’ He meant it with every breath because their love was as grand and magnificent as the vast Outback they’d both grown up in, but just as steeped in the tragedies of a harsh environment.

He loved his Kate so much it hurt and he’d die for her but at what cost to his future and that of his own family? He thought they had a chance if he went away.

‘He fired me.’ Rory shook his head at the sympathy he could see in her face. ‘We knew he would.’ He didn’t want her pity, just to get away and make a life for them, away from the poison of her father, so that one day he’d show him what Rory McIver was made of.

‘Both our fathers told me never to speak to you again,’ he said, ‘but that’s no surprise. Give me three years. I’ll be back on my twenty-first birthday for you. After the first year I can finish the degree on the road so I’ll save every cent for you. Wait for me. I’ll be back. I promise.’

That was when he saw her realise he wouldn’t change his mind and he jammed his hands against his sides to stop himself from reaching for her.

‘Money isn’t everything,’ and she looked at him as if he’d stabbed her. ‘Take me with you.’

He couldn’t not touch her and cupped her chin so their eyes met and he could hold her gaze. Try to make her understand. ‘I have to do this. You can’t come with me until I have something I can offer. Something more than this.’

Hepulled a ring from his pocket, a tiny pink diamond from the mines behind Jabiru, and slid it on her finger. No matter that her father had refused permission.

It had come in on the mail plane yesterday, cheap by her standards, and nothing like what he wanted to buy her, but he wanted that ring on her finger so at least it could be with her when he couldn’t. ‘Will you wear this until I come back?’

She was so young and he was sure that leaving was the right thing. ‘It’s because I love you I have to leave.’ Kate Onslow had been the one person he could dream with and that dream included both of them.

Then she lifted her face and kissed him, and her sweetness and ardour and the thought of the months away from her helped drag him down under the tree and when she kissed him with a desperation he hadn’t been prepared for things had got a little out of control. Actually, a lot out of control. ‘Take me with you,’ she said again.

In retrospect, he should have.

‘I remember everything,’ he said.

Kate lifted her head. Her beautiful eyes, filled with the darkest shadows from the past, stared into his. ‘All right, Rory. Maybe it is time. But you asked for it.’

She stared at him for a long moment and then she said it, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her, ‘Seven months later I lost our baby.’

Rory blinked. ‘What baby?’

She chewed her lip. ‘Ours!’ She glanced at him briefly to see if he understood and then away. ‘Yours and mine. The one we made after our last night.’

He stared at her, unable to take it in. He’d taken precautions, or thought he had, but it had been his first time too.

‘The son I didn’t tell anyone about, just like Lucy, until it was too late and I was too sick.’

Rory felt the shock hit him like a hammer in the gut. Kate had had a baby? First he was cold, then hot and then he stopped thinking about himself and the fruitless dreams that it would be too painful to think of right now, and thought of Kate.

His Kate had been pregnant at sixteen and he’d left her to face it on her own. With Lyle Onslow. Cold sweat beaded as he thought of how her father would have treated her. ‘You should have told me.’

Her voice was flat. ‘Father flew me out to Perth to
a private convalescent hospital. I didn’t know anyone and our baby was born by Caesarean section. Alone.’

The bastard. He dreaded the next question.

‘The baby?’

She sighed. ‘As I said before, I was very sick for a week and when I woke up it was too late. My baby was gone.’ She turned stricken eyes to him. ‘If I’d told my father earlier, maybe things would have been different but I was too much of a coward. My baby might have lived.’

Kate was the young girl she’d talked about. Not an unconnected case at all, but herself. Poor young, defenceless Kate and he hadn’t been there. He tried to imagine the scenario. ‘Who told you he’d died?’

‘Some nurse. I’ll never forget when that awful woman came in. She said it was just as well as I was so young. Earlier there’d been another, younger and kinder midwife, who’d said I could hold him but she didn’t come back.’ Her voice dropped even lower. ‘She said she’d take a photo, a lock of hair and a handprint, but I think they stopped her.’

She drew a breath and went on more strongly, ‘The awful one said he’d died from complications of prematurity and the separated placenta. I never even saw him.’