Midwife in a Million
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Fiona McArthur
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CHAPTER ONE
RORY MCIVER stepped thankfully from the RFDS aircraft he’d hitched a ride with. It hadn’t been one of the smoothest flights he’d ever been on. Maybe he should have driven from Perth but it had been such a hectic couple of weeks that the idea of driving three thousand kilometres on a whim didn’t do it for him.
He bent to scoop a little of the red earth he’d watched pass below his window for hours, let it run through his fingers, then allowed the wind to blow the soil from his palm. He looked around. He never thought he’d return.
Even early in the morning on the airstrip the hot wind wrapped around him like an electric blanket on high, that all enveloping heat that only Western Australia’s Kimberley could offer, a heat he hadn’t felt for ten years and savoured now.
He touched his shirt pocket and gripped the bulkiness of his wallet in that habit he’d acquired since she’d sent the damn letter all that time ago. Enough!
As the plane bumped away on the dirt strip a cattle dog barked and the dog’s lanky owner tipped his finger under his hat in greeting. ‘G’day, Rory. Long time, no see.’
Here was a person who hadn’t changed. ‘Smiley.’ Rory nodded to the cowboy leaning against the battered truck. ‘Good of you to meet me.’ They shook hands and Rory threw his swag in the back where a cloud of red soil smothered it as it landed. He smiled wryly and opened the passenger door against the wind. When the spinning top of a whirly wind tried to climb in with him he wondered about the implications of the strong breeze.
Smiley pushed himself off the truck and slid behind the wheel to start the engine. ‘I wondered how long it would take you after Kate turned up,’ Smiley drawled in that remembered way and drew a smile from Rory until the words sank in.
Rory grimaced. Well, apparently not long. ‘I read in the newspaper that her father’s sick. So she’s been gone a long time, too?’
‘Hmm. Left the same year as you. Went to school in Perth.’ Smiley grunted and let off the handbrake. ‘She’s back to spend time with him but flies down to the station township a few days a week to relieve Sophie.’
Smiley glanced at a small four-wheel drive vehicle under a lean-to in the corner of the paddock and Rory gathered it was Kate’s. ‘She works at the clinic, and delivers the babies that drop in from the camps, as well as emergencies.’ Smiley shook his head. ‘I hear the old man isn’t happy she’s working here at all.’
Seems Lyle Onslow hadn’t changed then. Malignant old sod.
‘Her father was never happy.’
‘He’s dying.’ Smiley turned to look at him and they both thought about that. Lyle was a hard man, and not always fair, but no doubt Saint Peter would sort that one out shortly.
Smiley shrugged the old man’s problems away and slipped another matchstick into his mouth to chew. His lips barely moved but the matchstick danced at the edge of his lips in a skill passed down from Smiley’s father. It brought back the good memories for Rory and there’d been many of those.
‘So you told her you’re coming?’ Smiley said around the match.
No, Rory thought. He closed his eyes and the sleepless night he’d spent trying to work out how to do that hung heavily behind his lids. ‘Try and keep a damper on that news, mate, until I get a chance.’
Smiley snorted, the closest he came to a laugh. ‘Keep a damper on it? Here?’ Smiley took the matchstick out and pointed it at Rory. ‘The airwaves’ve been hummin’ since your plane left Perth.’
Rory supposed he’d known that—just blocked it out—and he’d have to deal with the fact that he’d broken his promise when he saw her.
When he saw her. He didn’t know how he felt about seeing the woman who’d dumped him after promising to wait. Had never answered his letters. Had apparently been the cause of heartbreak and suffering for his parents, who had shown her nothing but kindness when her mother died.
He needed more time, or would there never be enough time between them? Now he’d almost achieved his life’s goal he’d finally realised he couldn’t move on until he’d settled the past.
‘How’s Sophie?’
Smiley’s sister was the antithesis of her brother. Bubbly and extrovert, she bossed Smiley mercilessly and her dour brother just shrugged. There’d been a time the four of them had done everything together out on the sprawling million acres of Jabiru Station—another thing Kate’s father hadn’t liked, his daughter knocking about with the hired help.
‘Nagging as usual,’ Smiley said but there was pride in his voice and he elaborated, unusual for him, as if he sensed Rory’s need for a change of subject. ‘Now she’s working at the clinic with…’ He shot him a quick glance.
…with Kate, Rory completed in his mind.
‘Anyway, having help means Sophie gets some time off for a change,’ Smiley went on. ‘So she’s good. She’s getting tips on baby-catching, she calls it, and thinkin’ of doing her midwifery.’ He looked back at the road. ‘When do you go back?’
Kate the teacher for Sophie? Of course she’d changed. What did he expect? That she’d still think he, Rory, held the answers to the universe?
‘I’ve a week off. I’ll stay over at the Hilton until RFDS can pick me up in a couple of days.’
The Hilton was the town’s tongue-in-cheek name for the extremely run down boarding house presided over by a tough ex-army nurse, Betty Shultz. Shultzie swore she’d never leave Jabiru Township, then again, Shultzie swore, loudly and often, all the time.
Her Hilton was nothing like the chain of exclusive hotels of the same name; her establishment was bare minimum and held together by pieces of wood nailed over the top of other pieces of wood.
‘How was Charlie’s retirement party?’
‘Good food,’ Smiley said. ‘Don’t suppose you’d want his job?’
After flogging himself to higher and higher levels until last month’s appointment? Volunteer ambulance in the bush instead of Deputy Commissioner of the entire state? Actually, it held some attraction. Back on the road instead of budget meetings and troubleshooting.
‘No. Afraid not.’
They didn’t speak again until they drove past the huge cattle yards on the outskirts and pulled up opposite the rundown hotel in the main street of Jabiru Township, population a hundred and fifty through the week, three hundred—mostly ringers and cowboys—on the weekend. Town, sweet town.
He looked around. A big change from Perth city.
Another whirly wind scooted past Rory as he lifted his swag out of the back and he glanced at the pale sky for the first streaks of cloud. Not yet.
He thumped the roof and Smiley lifted his hand and drove away. Rory watched the truck until it disappeared in a ball of dust and wondered if he could change his mind and ride it back out to the airstrip.
He’d never run from a challenge before. Funny how attractive that thought was right now, but only for a moment.
Well, he’d arrived. He needed to stop making such a big deal of a visit home. It wasn’t as if he had family here any more. He squashed that bitterness away too. The rest—meaning his reaction to Kate—would have to take care of itself.
He looked at the mostly boarded shops in the deserted street. It wasn’t like Kate’s father’s homestead and the home station where he’d grown up, but in the years since he’d been to the commercial part of Jabiru not much had changed.
Except the collateral damage he’d caused to his family by his liaison with Kate.
Kate Onslow was born into the pilot’s seat of an aeroplane; luckily, because it made the distance she needed to cover so ridiculously easy.
The two-hour drive between Jabiru Homestead and Jabiru Township was dust all the way and to fly cut the distance down to twenty minutes. Her great-grandfather had settled on the station a hundred years ago and when the township had grown exponentially her grandfather had built a new homestead away from the madding crowds. Though a hundred people didn’t seem ‘madding’ to Kate, she could understand the improvement in position for the family headquarters.
The new Jabiru Homestead, many-gabled, encircled by verandas and sprawled over an acre, nestled below a range of ochre mountains that bordered the Timor Sea; the peaks gave water and provided glorious waterholes and a lush rainforest pocket, and all only a short distance from the sparseness around the house.
The old homestead at Jabiru Township that she could see in the distance now from the air, held the hospital clinic, the pharmacy, the one-roomed library of donated books and the garage for the town’s only four-wheel drive ambulance truck.
As she closed in on her destination Kate saw the Royal Flying Doctor plane take off from the town strip and her heart rate dropped in a swoop as if she’d flown through a sudden wind shift, something her aircraft had been doing all flight, but this internal up-draught made her sick to the stomach.
She’d had three radio calls already to tell her Rory McIver was coming to town to see her.
Last month it had been hard enough to come back and face her belligerent father and the reality of his illness but that paled in comparison with Rory’s unexpected visit.
She’d been able to face the idea of coming home because she’d known her father would never change her mind about anything again. But Rory? Once he’d been the world to her.
She would just have to survive this too. Her independence would help her survive it. The sudden sting of threatening tears she ignored—they never came to anything. She hadn’t cried since all that had happened ten years ago and the lies. But the emotional turbulence had started and she hadn’t even seen him. She was a big girl now and not some needy teenager with an adolescent crush on the manager’s son.
Kate took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Too many years she’d spent telling herself she needed to stand on her own, rely on herself, be strong, and that determination would not be undermined by a man who had been out of her life for a long time. What did he want to see her for now, anyway?
Kate stripped Rory’s intrusion from her mind and concentrated on her descent because that was her strength. Single-minded concentration on what needed to be done. But, as soon as the plane grounded, as soon as room for distraction arrived, the thoughts returned to stick like the plane’s wheels to the ruts on the strip.
She gritted her teeth and secured her aircraft but the worry nagged at her all the way to town in her vehicle. Nagged her through the first half hour at work, right up until sixteen-year-old Lucy Bolton presented with the worst case of indigestion she’d had in her life.
Jabiru Township Clinic serviced the small town set in the baked earth at the edge of the station’s southern mountain ranges, a place that hid lush waterholes and settlements, plus far-flung aboriginal communities and out camps for the station. If the situation was dire, the doctor might be able to fly in once a week—unfortunately he’d been in yesterday.
Kate took one look at Lucy and put her to bed in the four bed ward. ‘Under those covers, young lady. No arguments. Where’s your mother?’
Lucy was a big-boned, hardworking girl whose mother leased one of the four pubs in town from Kate’s father. Usually happy-go-lucky and fun, Kate knew Lucy wasn’t one to complain. They bred them tough out here—had to—it was a long way to twentieth century medicine.
‘Mum’s tired.’ Lucy sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and kicked off her shoes. ‘There was a big outfit in town yesterday and I didn’t want to wake her.’ Lucy sighed as she rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. ‘The queer thing is, Kate,’ she whispered, ‘I haven’t eaten a thing ‘cause I feel so rotten, so how can I have indigestion?’
‘That’s not good.’ Kate stared down at the young girl and in a swirl of memories saw herself. ‘Poor you.’ She stroked her hair. She saw the slight puffiness around the eyes, the tiredness, that protective maternal hand that crept over her stomach. Her voice dropped. ‘Any chance you’re pregnant, Luce?’
Lucy’s eyes flew open and the sudden fear in the young girl’s face was enough confirmation. Kate sighed under her breath for the loss of youth coming Lucy’s way and a smidgen for the prick of envy. She wished she’d had the sense to ask for help like Lucy had.
Though in Kate’s day Mrs Schulz mightn’t have been as easy to approach as Kate or Sophie would be, even if Kate had been able to get all the way to the township from the home station.
She stroked Lucy’s shoulder. ‘Everything will be fine. I’ll just take your blood pressure, poppet. You don’t look well to me either.’
By the time Kate had done a full physical assessment the window shutters were banging against the walls outside and the howl of the wind was clearly audible. Kate barely noticed it as her concern grew for the young woman in front of her.
The flying doctor would have to come back and pick her up because there was no way she could manage Lucy here. And there was no way she wanted to because she knew what it could cost.
The pregnancy test proved positive but Kate hadn’t needed that; she could clearly hear the heartbeat from Lucy’s little passenger inside and she was more worried about the dangerously high levels of protein she found in the specimen of Lucy’s urine.
Lucy’s uterus could be felt midway between her belly button and the bottom of her sternum, which meant she’d been hiding her secret for about seven months. Around eight weeks too early to birth, if the baby was growing well. Eight weeks to go!
Kate closed her eyes against the memories that wanted to surface. Right when the trouble had hit her all those years ago. She shook the unwanted thoughts away, not least because she didn’t want to jinx Lucy.
Unless Kate was mistaken, Lucy’s blood pressure would ensure labour happened soon anyway, and Kate knew how fragile premmie babies were. Not standard procedure around here, three thousand kilometres from Perth.
That was, of course, if Lucy wasn’t in labour already and didn’t know it. ‘You’re not having any tummy pains are you, Luce?’
Lucy shook her head carefully. ‘Just this headache and rotten indigestion that’s killing me.’
It isn’t indigestion, Kate thought—it’s your body telling you something is very wrong. At least Lucy had listened. Kate poured a small tumbler of antacid, more for comfort, and gave it to her. ‘Sip on this, Luce. I need to talk to the doctor on the radio.’
Five minutes later Kate lifted the headphones from her ears and looked at them. No way could they do that. She settled the pads on her ears again and, strangely, the action had calmed her nerves. ‘Say again,’ she said, but there was little hope it would sound different this time.
‘Medication and transfer. If I were you I’d transfer her today. The storm’s a big one. The only way to transport is on the ground. If you decide to go you’ll have to take her out by road before it rains again and we’ll fly her from Derby. Or you could sit on her for another twenty-four hours with those symptoms and pray.’
Kate closed her eyes. ‘It’s six hundred kilometres of corrugations. What if she gets worse on the trip?’ Kate had another, more practical thought and her eyes widened. ‘What if she goes into labour?’
‘You could hope she doesn’t deliver.’ Mac Dawson had been obstetric registrar when Kate had been a newly graduated midwife at Perth General. Now an obstetrician in Perth, Mac respected her knowledge and she knew he cared about her predicament. But he couldn’t do anything about their options. There was nothing else he could suggest. ‘You should have stayed with me in Perth.’
Kate rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her. He’d asked her out a couple of times and Kate knew he’d have liked to have pursued their relationship if she’d been interested. She should have been but wasn’t. Mac’s pursuit had been a factor in her choice to work at one of the smaller hospitals in the suburbs of Perth after graduation.
Mac went on. ‘Her first baby, Kate. It’s your call but I’m sure you’d prefer early labour to an eclampsia out there while you wait for the storm to pass. The weather could set in for days and your strip will wash out. It’ll get tricky if she’s as unstable as you think and the roads are cut.’
Mac was right. She’d just needed to hear it twice. Road it was then. ‘Thanks for that, Mac. I’ll get back to you when I talk to her parents.’
‘Hear from you soon, then. Don’t forget to give me a ring when you get in so I can be sure you made it.’
Kate pulled the earphones from her head slowly and walked back to her patient via the drug cupboard. She reached for what she needed, along with the tray of intravenous cannulas, and set it down on the table beside the bed.
Lucy had fallen into an uneasy doze and every now and then her arm twitched in her sleep. Kate rechecked her blood pressure and the figures made her wince.
‘Lucy.’ Kate held the girl’s wrist as she counted her pulse. Lucy’s eyes flickered open. ‘I have to put a drip in your arm, poppet, and give you some drugs to bring your blood pressure down. Then I’ll ring your mum. The doctor says you have to go to Derby at least. Probably Perth.’
Lucy’s eyes opened wide and the apprehension in them made Kate squeeze her hand again. She looked so frightened. Kate had been frightened too.
‘It’s okay, I’ll come with you most of the way but you’ll have to stay there until after your baby is born.’
‘Mum doesn’t know I’m having a baby.’ They both looked down at Lucy’s difficult to distinguish stomach.
Kate remembered this all too well except she hadn’t had a mother. Just a ranting, wild-eyed father who’d bundled her off to strangers before anyone else found out.
‘We’ll have to tell her, but no one else needs to know just yet. This is serious, Luce. You could get really sick and so could your baby. I’m worried about you so we have no choice.’
Lucy slumped back in the bed and closed her eyes and two big silver tears slid down her cheeks. ‘I understand. Will you tell Mum?’
Kate looked down at Lucy’s soft round cheeks and her hand lifted and smoothed the limp hair back off her forehead. Poor Lucy. ‘If you want me to. Of course I will.’
The next half an hour made Kate wonder how some people could be so lucky. Lucy’s mother sagged at the news but straightened with a determined glint in her eye. ‘My poor baby. To think she’d been worrying about upsetting me when I’d be more worried about her. Here was me thinking all sorts of terrible things when now I can see why she’s been so quiet lately. And you say she’s sick?’ Mary Bolton stared at Kate hard. ‘How sick?’
‘It used to be called toxemia of pregnancy. Her blood pressure’s high and dangerous, for both her and her baby. I’m worried she could have a fit if it gets too high. They want her flown to Perth.’
Mary stared out of the window and then back at Kate. ‘I had that ‘clampsia thing. Scared the pants off the old man when he woke up and the bed was shaking, with me staring at him like a stunned rabbit unable to speak.’ Mary shrugged. ‘Or so he said—that was just before Lucy was born,’ Mary said matter-of-factly and Kate’s stomach dropped. Maternal history of eclampsia as well? So her mother had progressed to fitting. Kate closed her eyes. More risk for Lucy.
Mary glanced out of the window and frowned. ‘But the Flying Doctor won’t be able to fly in this weather.’
Kate looked out of the window to see what she already knew. The sky was heavy and purpling now. ‘I know. We’ll have to take her by road to Derby. Unless the weather clears further west and they can fly in and meet us at one of the stations along the way.’
Mary looked down at her daughter, then at Kate. ‘You must be worried, Kate, if you can’t wait here a day or two.’
‘I am.’
Mary grimaced. ‘We’re lucky you’re here. I’ll have to arrange for someone to take over the pub and mind the other kids, then I’ll follow. My sister lives in Derby. When does Lucy have to go?’
‘Today. Now. As soon as I can arrange it.’ And that was when Kate realised the implications. By ambulance. The usual driver, Charlie, had retired and just left on his lifetime dream holiday. There was no one else with any training to come with her, and she really needed some backup for this trip…
Sophie would be needed here and there was no one with any medical knowledge except—the second highest qualified paramedic in the state—she’d heard he’d got the Deputy job. The man from her past who’d flown in this morning to see her.
Rory was the last person she wanted to spend twenty-four hours locked in an ambulance truck with.
She turned away and looked into the room where Lucy lay. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe what she’d felt for him when she’d been sweet sixteen and besotted enough to practically force him to make love to her would be different.
Of course it would. He was ten years older now—that made him twenty-eight. With his job the on-road experiences would age anyone, so he’d probably have changed, put on city weight, look a lot older. She’d be fine.
The call came in just as Rory finished unpacking. Betty knocked like a machine gun on his door and Rory flinched from too many sudden call situations in the city. Maybe he did need this break away from work.
Betty in a battledress shirt and viciously creased trousers was a scary thing as she stood ramrod-straight outside his door, and he wondered if he should salute her.
He opened the door wider, but gingerly, because the handle felt as if it was going to come off in his hand. The place was falling apart.
The fierce expression on Shultzie’s face made him wonder if he was going to be put through an emergency fire drill. ‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘Kate Onslow’s on the phone for you. Best take it in the hall quick smart.’
He moved fast enough even for Shultzie to be satisfied.
