Zac fingered the ring in his pocket as she walked away. His eyes stayed on her until she passed through the door into the car park. He watched her disappear, feeling like he’d just missed a brilliant opportunity or a very important event.
One that he might have waited his whole life for – except that he couldn’t remember what it was.
He hated the feeling. He also felt bad for Ava, though he had told himself he was doing this for her benefit – in the long run. At least he’d learned that he hadn’t made a commitment he didn’t follow through on. No breach-of-promise suit – not that she was that kind of woman.
But there was no doubt that now was the time to leave the midwife alone. No more meetings or rehashing or creating opportunities to hurt her. Enough! He could see it was too dangerous for her and they needed to let go.
When Zac arrived at work that night, he tried very hard not to think of Ava. But it was quiet when he needed crazy busy. Now, three hours later, he glanced at the clock. Eleven pm. She would be on shift in the maternity ward.
The circle of thought started again. She’d been so fearless in the telling … She’d looked amazing … She was so incredibly brave … Her mouth …
He wished someone would come in with chest pain or something equally critical that he’d need to concentrate on. But the night dragged unusually slowly.
Of course he and Ava wouldn’t have worked. He was no cowboy sitting on a fence in the centre of Australia chewing … what had Poddy said the cows chewed out here? Mulga. He wouldn’t be chewing mulga grass as he ran a station. And she’d never be happy in Sydney, away from the people she cared about, both her family and the women who needed her advocacy up and down the road from here to Katherine. He’d seen firsthand her passion for the women of the communities and remote midwifery. Stella had that right.
They lived in different worlds, had different agendas, so he had no faith at all that it could have possibly worked, despite the undeniable sexual attraction he didn’t have to remember to acknowledge.
When it all boiled down to it, Roslyn and he had been from the same world and they had definitely struggled.
The sound of a car screeching into the emergency-department driveway pushed his butt out of the chair. Yes. Thank you. A welcome distraction.
Zac grabbed hygienic gloves and beat the rest of the staff to the front, where he was halted by a distraught man at the ambulance entrance.
The tall, blond bloke threw open his door and hurried to the rear of the car. ‘Thank God! Zac.’
Zac shot a quick look at his face and recognised a much thinner and more haggard Jock. ‘Hana’s in labour. She’s thirty-three weeks – too early.’
‘Got it.’ Zac turned to the nurse behind him. ‘Leave the wheelchair for me. Get maternity down here.’
Zac shelved Jock’s appearance for another time as he concentrated on the young woman in the rear seat of the car. He opened the door and leaned his hand on the seat next to her. ‘Hello there, Hana. You scored me. Okay if I help until the midwives arrive?’
The young woman turned huge, frightened eyes towards him and then drew a shaky breath to calm herself. ‘Zac.’ She blinked. Then she said firmly, ‘I think the baby is coming, Zac.’
Zac glanced behind him. ‘The nurse has gone to ring maternity. Let’s get you out and into this wheelchair.’ He offered Hana his arm. ‘You’re doing fine. Tell me what you’re feeling now.’
Hana drew another shuddering breath and swallowed. ‘I think there’s something hanging out down there and I don’t know whether to push or what.’
Zac had the strangest feeling that he was being divinely tested, and the urge to foster calmness felt stronger than anything. ‘Well, we’ll find out very soon, but could I have a quick look in case I have to catch a little someone?’ He met Hana’s eyes and smiled, and Hana lifted her bottom and pulled her trousers down to her knees in a no-nonsense movement. ‘Of … course.’ She panted and gestured her permission with a wave. ‘Go … ahead.’
It was awkward but not impossible for Zac to see what was happening, a task made no easier by the dim light. There was a baby, but if he wasn’t mistaken it was coming bottom first. Were breech babies a Central Australian speciality? Not really statistically surprising, as thirty-three-week babies were often breech. At least this one wouldn’t fall anywhere dangerous except inside the baggy trouser legs, Zac thought wryly.
‘Not coming head first. Let’s meet the rest of your baby in a more comfortable place. What do you think?’
Hana gave a strangled laugh of relief as she agreed.
‘Good girl. Can you climb out backwards, maybe slither along on your bottom and I’ll lift you into the chair? We’ll get you inside so we can see what’s going on.’
‘I’m scared to move. Here comes another pain.’
Jock’s head poked around Zac’s. ‘Is she having it?’
‘Yes,’ Zac answered calmly. Then in an even softer tone, ‘That’s okay. Breathe through it. You’re doing fine. But we need to get you inside and the maternity staff are coming. I bet your baby would much prefer to be born on clean sheets.’ A fervent agreement came from behind his head and Hana grinned.
Something or someone kept chanting in his head, reminding him that if this was happening smoothly they’d be fine, and not to touch anything yet.
Zac turned his head and waved to someone behind him to push the wheelchair closer to the car. He gave Hana his arm and together they inched her along the seat. As soon as she was at the door and the contraction finished, he put his arms around Hana on one side and Jock took the other, and they lifted her into the wheelchair. She was inside and onto the waiting gurney before she’d barely taken a breath.
The nurses whipped a curtain around and Hana’s pants were swiftly pulled off. ‘Lying on my back’s no good,’ she gasped, and tried to shift on the narrow trolley.
‘Stay there. The doctor needs to see,’ the nurse said briskly, at the same time as Zac said, ‘That’s fine. Move where you need to.’ He shook his head apologetically at the nurse and gave his arm to Hana again to help her roll onto her knees. As soon as she knelt the baby began to descend in a smooth downward arc, and with a sudden flick that startled everyone except Zac, first one and then the other leg plopped out.
‘Good grief,’ said the nurse.
‘Perfect,’ Zac said, and hovered nearby without touching, and marvelled at the jiggling of the baby’s legs as it wriggled its way out. Umbilicus, nipples, one arm, second arm and the baby sat, head still inside, and all the time Zac felt as though a calm voice were describing what would happen next. Zac took the warmed towel the nurse offered, still not touching the baby.
Behind him, he ignored the sounds of others arriving, as the baby descended further. He waited, his hands still, ready for the tiny chin to drop and the face to fall into sight, allowing gravity to do the tricky traction of a breech birth all by itself.
Across from him three nurses watched open-mouthed. Hana gasped, Jock swayed, and the baby’s head freed and dropped. Zac caught the little face as it fell into his hands. He closed his eyes for a second, holding the weight of the baby as a medley of images of another breech birth passed through his mind.
Just like this. The world swirled, and he rested the baby on the bed until the kaleidoscope stopped. One still photograph in his mind gelled. Ava, in another time, in another place, and two baby boys.
On automatic pilot, he handed the baby to the paediatrician, who checked Hana’s baby as the midwife, one so suddenly, so dearly familiar, hurried into the room.
Concentrate on what you’re doing! his mind yelled. He turned towards Hana to find Ava had helped her flip onto her back, with her baby on the way to her arms. Suddenly she gasped again, and looked up to catch Zac’s gaze, her eyes widening in question.
He saw the gush of blood. ‘Placenta,’ he said simply.
She sighed and relaxed. ‘I didn’t think it was twins.’
Zac delivered the placenta into an awaiting dish and stepped away. ‘Done.’
The paed, who’d paused for the third stage to be completed, passed the baby to Hana. Her little girl. Zac watched the tiny bundle be drawn safely into her mother’s arms and blew out a long breath.
Finally Zac’s eyes met Ava’s.
‘Congratulations,’ she said, but she looked straight through him as she turned towards Hana and Jock. Was that to them or to him? Did it matter? All he knew was that he felt bereft and he’d thrown away the best thing he’d ever found.
Zac saw that Ava had turned her shoulder to assist Hana to position the baby safely. The bed rails were pulled up. Sweet memories were crowding in his brain. He could just hear Ava’s murmuring voice as the pictures in his mind twisted again in the vivid kaleidoscope. ‘She’s so beautiful,’ Ava said as she bent to catch the tiny baby’s waving hand, and he wished he’d taken an extra glance at the newborn, but his mind had been whirling.
Jock stood stock-still in awe, watching, and Zac didn’t miss the glint of tears bumping down the man’s unshaven cheek. Emotion stung his own throat as he looked at him. Poor bloke. He’d had the wildest few weeks of his life, but hopefully this would be the start of a new chapter for them.
Ava was hugging her brother now. ‘I’m so excited for you all. We’ll push the bed straight to the special-care nursery and she’ll stay toasty warm on Hana’s skin until the paeds can check her out again up there.’
Hana said something he missed and Ava responded. ‘India, that’s beautiful. After Mim’s middle name? How fabulous.’
Then Jock said something and Ava shook her head. ‘No. India’s breathing fine. She’s a fighter like her mum. You were amazing, Hana. Congratulations.’ He could hear the quiet joy in Ava’s voice as he stood back from them, rightly, on the outside of a family he was nothing to.
It seemed Ava had wrangled it so Hana could keep hold of her baby for the transfer upstairs. Skin to skin. One of Ava’s pet crusades. He remembered that too, now.
Of course she was far too busy to look at him as they moved. Zac glanced back at the paed, a friendly face in all the drama, who smiled at him and said, ‘Nice delivery.’
With a half-smile that he couldn’t contain, he indicated Ava with a nod of his head. ‘I had a good teacher.’
‘You’re a good student,’ the paed said as she hurried away to follow the bed.
Zac moved sideways from the bed to elbow on the taps at the sink and stripped off his gloves. Silently, he rinsed and soaped his hands. The rhythmic washing of his wrists gave him the privacy to allow the memories to wash over him. The crash, the tumbling, the stop, and the sight of Ava injured. He’d thought she’d died. Or worse, had been rendered brain dead. He breathed deeply to clear the swirl of images in his head. The horror to end all horrors.
Now it was all there. Right from the start.
Being in the aircraft with Ava’s laughing face next to his, the crazy ride in the taxi and the wild, uninhibited, explosive night when they’d made love until all hours of the morning.
And the next four days.
He remembered the ring.
He remembered Yulara.
The ring made so much sense now. He could remember his euphoria when he’d bought it. How could the memory of how much he loved Ava have been buried so deep? It was unbelievable, really.
Lord, he remembered Yulara and the emotion and joy and anticipation as they’d headed out to the perfect spot for him to properly propose.
All of his memory had returned. As he dried his hands, still feeling dazed, he caught sight of Ava’s disappearing back as she helped push the gurney upstairs. Her brother, Jock, was beside her.
No wonder she had looked through him when he’d told her all hope was gone. She’d had to deal with that final loss of faith.
Others had taken over. He saw a nurse sitting on the chair, pale and stunned. She glanced up and he smiled and shrugged. ‘Things can turn out well if you allow the presence of trust,’ he told her. Like Ava had told him after they’d helped deliver the twins. And hopefully, that would work.
Trust in Ava – that would be what he’d have to do now.