Midwife in a Million (10 page)

They pulled up under the portico and the concierge greeted them like royalty and indicated that their ambulance would be cared for like the Rolls-Royce it wasn’t.

Kate smothered a laugh as she pulled the duffel bag of spare clothes out of the back of the truck. The bag was whisked from her arms to be carried by another assistant and she could do nothing but join Rory as they walked up the stairs, where they were met by the manager.

Within what seemed like seconds they were registered and personally escorted to their suites.

Kate hung back a little and whispered to Rory, ‘I think we should have stayed in the tent section. I’m feeling a little underdressed.’

‘I bet they can cater for that.’ He smiled across at her. ‘But you look gorgeous to me.’

‘Don’t go there, Rory. And I mean it. This is too elegant for an overnight stay.’

He held up his hands. ‘Fine. But just relax. Soak in your bath and we’ll meet in an hour. We can eat on a private veranda if you want.’

Which was all very well, Kate thought an hour
later, admittedly more relaxed and glowing pink from the hot water, but her khaki trousers and white shirt just didn’t do it for her.

When she heard the knock on the door, she glanced once more at the mirror and shrugged. It was only one night.

It wasn’t Rory at the door. A young girl stood there, beautifully made-up and wearing the resort staff cheongsam. She held a fuchsia-pink silk sheath in her arms. ‘From Mr McIver, Miss Onslow.’

Kate opened her mouth to say wrong room when she heard her name. She’d kill him. What was she supposed to do? Good manners won. ‘Thank you,’ she said. Serve him right if it cost him a month’s salary. She took the dress from the girl and shut the door.

It was beautiful. She rested the material against her cheek and slid it back and forth like a whisper. She’d never been one for fancy clothes and still refused any money from her father.

She looked in the mirror. She could wear her pride or this. She looked again. That was ridiculous.

The dress won.

When Kate opened her door Rory forgot to breathe. Dark swathes of velvet hair were loose around her shoulders, the first time he’d seen her hair out in ten years, and he hoped not the last. Her mouth pouted sexily in fuchsia like the dress, and then the dress…

No bra. He sucked the breath in because light
headedness was no way to handle the next couple of hours—but my Lord. Rory gulped.

‘Come in, Rory,’ she said and directed him in with her hand, her mind obviously elsewhere as she searched for her key.

‘I like your dress.’ He looked around the room, out of the door to the magnificent view of the gorge below, at the huge king-sized bed and quickly away, anywhere except at the fuchsia silk outline of her alert nipples.

‘The room’s lovely, isn’t it?’

‘Very.’ Monosyllables might be all he could manage at the moment.

‘Oh, here it is!’ She held the key up triumphantly. Then she looked at him and he still must have been staring. ‘Thank you for the dress. I hope you’ve left enough in your wallet for dinner.’ Obviously she’d come to peace with his presumption in buying it.

‘Luckily dinner’s included in the room rate. Table d’hôte gourmet and open bar. Served where you want. Any preferences?’

She blinked. ‘Wow. They didn’t have anything like this around when we grew up here.’

‘That’s the high-end market for you.’

‘You seem to know a lot about it.’

‘If I’d ever been here I would have looked you up and maybe discovered you were in Perth.’

The heat from the gaze he ran over her was
enough to have Kate wishing she hadn’t been so silly as to put on the dress or send for the matching lippy. And leave off her sensible bra.

She looked him up and down. He had a white jacket over a black shirt and black trousers, very debonair for a boy from the Outback. She’d bet that hadn’t been in the duffel bag either. Maybe he was more financially secure than she’d thought.

She cleared her throat. ‘We could eat in the open air part of the restaurant.’ Might be safer, she thought, and she had the feeling he could read her mind. Somehow the balance had shifted again.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I understand the view is magnificent.’ She’d swear he was laughing at her.

Kate’s enormous room was suddenly stifling despite the breeze wafting the curtains. ‘Let’s go, then.’

They chose to sit on the veranda outside the restaurant with its glass roof showcasing the stars that looked down on them. Rory pulled her chair out, much to the chagrin of the maître d’, but at least he smiled at the man. ‘I’m sorry. I wanted to do that.’

Kate dipped her head to examine the menu and hide the blush from Rory’s comment. This was getting out of hand but a tiny part of her found the danger intoxicating.

‘Champagne?’ Rory raised those wicked eyebrows of his and Kate shook her head.

I’m heady enough, she thought. ‘I’d prefer to keep my wits about me.’

‘Perhaps sparkling apple juice?’ the waiter suggested, and Kate nodded.

‘The same.’ Rory wasn’t to be outdone. ‘Though we may decide on a wine later with dessert.’

The waiter left as they dawdled over the menus. Kate looked around and shook her head. ‘This place is incredible.’

‘I’m glad we came. It’s totally different from where we would have slept.’

‘It’s different from where you were going to sleep. I was going to have the comfortable stretcher in the back again.’

‘Weren’t we going to toss for it?’

She shook her head. ‘Heads or tails, it was mine.’

He smiled. ‘You’ve become quite assertive, Miss Kate.’

‘Survival.’

He lifted his glass and the ping of fine crystal made them both smile. Then his smile fell away. ‘To survivors,’ Rory said soberly.

By the time they’d finished the meal and enjoyed one glass of the smoothest port Rory had ever tasted, he was thinking of sitting on his hands to keep them under control.

Kate had relaxed enough to laugh and, when she did, his heart felt as if it was going to shatter into a million pieces like the stars through the glass above his head.

No wonder he hadn’t settled in his life when that
much feeling was tied up in one woman. And he hadn’t even realised.

‘Let’s walk,’ he said abruptly and he had Kate out of her chair before the waiter made it halfway across the room.

With his hand resting in the small of her back and her hair brushing his shoulder, it was as if the floodgates had opened and all the years of striving for fulfilment meant nothing. This was what he wanted—Kate with him, side by side as they walked along the gravel-strewn paths along the clifftop. Her tiny hand in his, and how the hell that had happened he didn’t know, but he savoured every squeeze of her fingers.

Lush tropical foliage bathed in moonlight—moonlight that cascaded into the gorge below like the waterfall they could hear in the distance, and Kate, giggling beside him as he recited a sweet old lady story from his repertoire.

What was she thinking? What was she feeling? Could she see how good they were together and how they must be able to work things out? This was all too good to throw away.

They stopped in unison and turned. He looked down at her, bathed in silver with her precious face turned up to his and her eyes dark pools of invitation.

She seemed to sway slightly towards him so he kissed her gently, just to taste the promise. Her lips parted and suddenly she was pressing herself against him and her tongue fluttered against his so he kissed
her with all the need of his own for the last ten years without Kate.

Then he kissed her for the letter, the return of his ring, and finally for the fact that he had her in his arms at this moment.

Kate had known Rory was going to kiss her tonight. She’d been aware since they’d first sat down in the restaurant hours ago. Aware that this place out of time was the only chance they had to celebrate the past before they went their separate ways in the future.

She lifted her arms and it felt amazing just to reach up and clasp her hands behind his strong neck. To feel his arms go around her back and gather her closer, with his muscular chest solid and broad against her softness. This night had to last her a long time.

She looked up and he stared down, intent, sombre, questioning until his face moved closer; she couldn’t help but sway towards him again and their lips rejoined as she closed her eyes.

Who needed vision when there was nothing she couldn’t see with Rory’s face there, his lips, his breath mingling with hers in that intricate dance that was solely theirs?

Homecoming yet not—the kiss had changed, they’d both grown up and this was no boy-girl kiss.

This was all man meets woman in paradise.

The kiss deepened, softened, deepened, and Kate began to lose the definition between the two. She strained closer and tightened her hold on his neck.
He crushed her against him and she revelled in his long, strong hardness until Rory eased back.

For a brief moment in time there was almost a gap between them except for another quick sip and then he pulled away to grab her hand and, laughing, they ran six steps before they turned and kissed again. Moonlight madness consumed them both as they broke apart and ran another six before they stopped again. Kate could never remember feeling like this. Behaving like this. By the time they were almost back at her room, they were heaving gasps of cool evening air laden with the scent of night flowers and the taste of lust.

Just a few steps more and they were in the hallway outside her door, where Kate crazily fumbled for her key in her door and then they were through, lips still fused, hands flying.

The first time was up against the wall, hiked dress, dropped trousers, insatiable and way too fast, though still time for Rory to protect her, yet, in some elemental way, not fast enough, and then it was over. Rory lifted her and carried her to the bed, where they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

They breathed in. Breathed out. Looked at each other and smiled. Then reached for each other again. Just to hold.

A little while later Rory led her to the huge shower with twin ceiling roses but they only needed one as the water streamed over her shoulders and he soaped
her. This time was for slow discovery. Carefully loving her, totally rapt in his thorough task as he worshipped her and she put her face up to the water and let the years of drought wash away. Then she washed him, but after that he couldn’t help but take her so they made love under the shower and then again back on the bed.

They slept entwined, or Kate slept. Rory stared at her dark head on his chest and stroked her shoulder. How had they wasted so much time? He still didn’t know.

Had what they’d shared been too intense? Why did he feel the desperation in Kate that boded ill for their future when she’d just given him everything?

Did she finally understand they were meant to be together?

Kate woke with Rory sleeping beside her. So this was what she’d been missing all these years. No wonder she hadn’t had the strength to fight without him all those years ago. She felt adored, protected, safe.

Then she pulled back as reality awoke. This was an interval in life, not a beginning.

That way lay weakness. Vulnerability. She only had to think of what they’d done last night to see how little control she had over herself when mixed with the headiness of being with Rory.

B
REAKFAST
was tropical splendour on the balcony. Kate was quiet compared to last night but he remembered she wasn’t a morning person. Though she’d been showered and dressed when he’d woken. Which was a damn shame.

There was a lot about Kate he didn’t know and some he did. But he wanted to know a whole more before they left this place. Like when could he make love with her again?

The rain had stopped through the night, there were gaps for the sun and it was hot, but the clouds were still heavy in the valleys and over the mountains.

They walked to Golden Gorge for a swim, only a few hundred metres from the resort, and it was cool as they climbed down the leafy hundred steps to the deserted rock pool at the bottom.

The huge palm fronds and pandanus dipped over the turquoise waterhole and butterflies skimmed the water.

Rory looked around and then at his Kate, here in
paradise. ‘I’d forgotten how much I love the top country. There’s nowhere like the gorges here.’

Kate nodded. ‘I’m glad we stayed on today for a while. We might never get a chance to do this again.’

Rory shot a glance at her. ‘I don’t want to think that.’

She avoided his eyes. ‘For this morning we won’t.’ She pulled off her T-shirt. ‘Last in’s a dirty dog.’

There was a mad flurry of discarded clothes and two simultaneous splashes as they hit the pool together but they surfaced apart. Kate shook the hair out of her eyes and swam with leisurely strokes towards the big rock at the edge, where she climbed out again, all long legs and curved arms and delicious sway of her hips and breasts. His mouth tightened for a moment as he saw the long bruise on her thigh from her rush down the river yesterday but he shook the ice away.

Rory wanted her then and there but he could see she had other thoughts so he trod water as he went back over her words with a feeling of sadness. She’d said they might never get this chance again!

It seemed last night hadn’t changed anything except maybe helped a little towards Kate’s healing process. He couldn’t regret it if that was all this trip had accomplished—it had been worth it, though it had not been without cost to his own heart. But he guessed that was a small price to pay for what Kate had been through. But the concept of leaving Kate was too huge to contemplate here.

Kate dived in again and swam under the waterfall that fell into the pool. She stood in it, letting the water pour over her shoulders like a freshwater mermaid and he allowed the future to float away as he soaked in the sight.

When she’d had enough she dived back towards him and grabbed his ankle as she swam under him. He allowed himself to be pulled along before she let go to surface and he swam after her.

She shook her head and the water splashed in his face. ‘So, you wanna play tag, do you?’

Kate grinned at him. ‘I was always a better swimmer than you.’

‘Try me now!’ He dared her with one eyebrow raised and she turned to swim away. He easily caught her. ‘Try again?’

She wiped the water from her eyes. ‘Of course.’

This time he gave her a bigger head start but then easily caught her again.

She frowned. ‘Been working out, McIver?’

‘Could have.’ He swam closer. ‘Come here.’

She eyed him warily. ‘Why?’

‘I always wanted to kiss underwater. I need a volunteer.’

‘Who says I’m a volunteer?’

‘Everyone else stepped back.’ His arms slid around her and she didn’t pull away. Their eyes met and held and then they sank below the surface, eyes wide open as their lips came together. It wasn’t quite
perfect but Rory was happy to practice. They floated back to the surface.

‘That could take a rehearsal.’ Kate looked a little breathless.

‘Yeah,’ Rory said, ‘you’re a buoyant little thing,’ and he could feel the tilt of his mouth as he smiled. ‘Let’s practice.’

She frowned at him. ‘One more, no more.’

This time they kissed before they went under, and Rory side swam with her in his arms to the edge. When his hip hit the bottom he pulled her over so she floated above him and he could look up at her through the water. He could quite happily drown here. Her face moved away as she sat up.

‘Enough. We should think about going.’

‘The next time you fly over here, will you remember us?’

Remember, Kate thought, and she felt like clutching her chest. This had all been a bad, bad idea.

Rory tried to establish some return to the rapport as they left Xanadu but Kate wasn’t playing and he couldn’t find any way through her silence.

All he could think was that she was regretting last night and this morning. He wondered if it would have helped if he’d slowed down and let her get used to the idea that he was back in her life. And wanted to be for good!

They were close to the Pentecost. Kate stared un
seeingly out of the window as she thought about what had happened last night.

She’d invited, no, dragged Rory into her room as she’d caught glimpses of the adored and carefree girl she’d been all those years ago. Stupid woman.

Who was she kidding? She had baggage with a capital B and was too screwed up for any sort of relationship. And she needed to concentrate on finding common ground with her father before it was too late.

Rory had his career. Plus he was carrying a few issues himself. She just needed to get the hell out of his arms and back to the real world.

The Pentecost was an anticlimax. The rush had been through and the river was no deeper than on their way out. The next two hours passed slowly but with no more incidents and finally they drove up the last stretch before Jabiru Township.

Kate looked at the mud at the side of the road. ‘I guess you’re stuck here until the RFDS can land on the strip.’

Rory frowned. ‘Won’t you be? Your plane is grounded too.’

She lifted her head. ‘I’ll drive home. As soon as we get back.’

He tried to control his disappointment. ‘Don’t go on my account.’

‘Why not?’

How could she be so cold after last night? ‘It doesn’t have to be like this, Kate.’

Her eyes didn’t meet his, looked anywhere but his way, just like when he’d first seen her two days ago.

‘Yes. It does, Rory.’

He could feel it all slipping away and the panic fluttered like the spinifex at the side of the road as they drove past. Rory ran his hand through his hair. ‘You can’t deny we shared something special back there at Xanadu.’

Her fingers spread and pressed down on her legs, as if to push away that thought. Still she didn’t look at him.

‘It’s over. Has been for a long time. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, Rory, but I don’t want you to come back.’

Those same words from the letter he’d carried all those years. The hurt stirred anger. ‘I wish I’d never come back.’

‘So do I,’ she said quietly.

Rory couldn’t give up. He felt that same desolation he’d felt ten years ago. He’d stayed the one night he couldn’t avoid in town after Kate had left. Had dinner with Smiley and Sophie, dug for what background they had, and then caught a lift to Derby on a road train early the next morning, like all those years ago, so he could make a flight back from there. Then he drove home from Perth Airport and, without unpacking, he switched on his computer.

He needed to find Fairmont Gardens and a com
memorative inscription. Kate needed to grieve and maybe he could get some clue how to help by just seeing where the remains of his son lay.

The next day was a cool autumn day and the Fairmont Gardens were deserted. He crossed the freshly mown grass to the commemorative wall that curved around an enormous bed of roses and the scent was almost heady in its power.

He drew a deep breath and held it, as if imprinting the scent on his memory.

He was standing here for both of them. He didn’t know what to expect. How it would affect him. Just knew he had to do this to gain insight into the journey Kate had travelled on her own.

He looked down at the paper printout the custodian had given him with the directions he sought.

Third row down, twenty-six across from the left; his eyes scanned as he counted. Then he saw it.

The plaque, tarnished bronze, six inches by four inches, with raised lettering.
Baby son of Kate Onslow. Lived for a day, 3rd August
.

His son. Rory hadn’t expected the rush of sadness that overwhelmed him. Sadness for the little boy who hadn’t had the chance to be held by his mother before he’d died. Or his father. He winced at the pain from such a tiny fragment of grief compared to what Kate had had to bury for ten years.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Cameron.’ The
quiet words floated up into the branches of the leafy tree overhead.

He turned and gazed over the beautiful gardens, the reminders of other lives that had been and gone, the place that families came to grieve and say goodbye. Then he slid the end of the tiny bouquet he’d brought with him into the slot below.

He thought about Kate—so young, so sick, heartbroken and alone. Kate sending him a letter that must have hurt so much to write and the noble but mistaken reasons she had.

He thought of the day he’d received it and his disbelief. How he’d phoned the housekeeper at Jabiru Station and she’d said Kate wasn’t taking calls. And all his letters he’d written that she was destined never to receive.

His parents, working at a new station, the reason for their move now explained, hadn’t been able to offer any information on Kate. They had enough trouble of their own trying to adjust.

So he’d stayed, had decided to achieve what he’d set out to do and more, much more. Driven, as Kate said, and for what? To hide the pain that needed Kate. He should have searched for her. Ten years of pain for Kate and him, wasted. He knew that now. And he wasn’t wasting any more. He knew where he belonged. What he needed to do.

The card on the bouquet floated in the breeze and he brushed it gently with his finger as he read
the words,
With love from Mum and Dad
, and he took a photograph to add to the ones the midwife had confirmed were in the medical records, the grieving parent pack that hospitals kept for years if mementos were refused, not sure if he’d done right to ask.

It was a choice Kate hadn’t been given. The hospital had agreed to contact her and ask.

Then he allowed the anguish for everything to float away, to keep the memories—release the pain; their baby, ten years he’d lost with Kate, his sadness and guilt over his parents’ early misfortune and, most of all, for Kate’s lonely journey.

He understood. He would be there for her and this time she wouldn’t turn him away.

It was time to make things happen. He walked away to lay the foundations for his new life. He would give Kate time to come to the same conclusion—he had to believe that time would come—but if it didn’t he would make it happen.

Kate drove straight home to Jabiru Homestead after dropping Rory at the Hilton and couldn’t help but wonder if she was the same woman who’d left less than forty-eight hours ago. For the first time she considered not selling her family’s land after her father died.

Maybe she did deserve a fuller life. She could take over the reins from her father, make changes for the better, maybe some time in the future start a new
dynasty of caring and integrity for Jabiru Station and the township.

But first she had to care for the old dynasty.

‘Hello, Father.’ She looked at him, lying back in the chair overlooking the house yard, a big man brought down by infirmity, his thick white hair still cut short in the military style he preferred and his bushy white brows beetling up at her as he pretended he wasn’t in any pain.

‘So you’re back! Hmmph.’ He turned his head away.

‘Yes, I am.’ She crossed the veranda and picked up his pain relief tablets. ‘You haven’t taken any pills in two days.’

He glared at her. ‘Makes me fuzzy and I don’t see what’s going on.’

Typical despot. Her voice remained mild. ‘There’s nothing going on that’s worth suffering for.’

He stuck his chin out. ‘You can’t make me take them.’

‘Nope.’ Kate shook her head. ‘Your choice.’ She left that battle but knew he would take them now she was home. He had this thing about the ‘family’ being alert to what the workers did. And Kate being home meant he could sleep.

She hoped she’d never be that paranoid. ‘I went as far as Rainbow’s End. They flew Lucy Bolton out from there.’

He thought about that. ‘You took long enough, then.’

‘The road over the Pentecost was flooded.’ She paused and then said deliberately, ‘I went with Rory McIver.’

That made him sit up and she saw the agony cross his face with the movement and she felt a moment’s regret that she’d startled him. Her father. He must have had some redeeming features when her mother had fallen in love with him but he’d never shown Kate much tenderness.

He pulled himself up, trying not to wince, until he sat straight in the chair. ‘That young cockerel. Did he make a pass at you?’

Now that was funny. ‘No.’ As if her father should worry about that, after all these years.

He sagged a little. ‘Good.’

‘I made one at him.’ Lyle’s head snapped up. ‘And I told him about the baby.’

‘Fool!’ He looked away. ‘Now, why would you do that? Give him pretensions to glory, knocking up an Onslow.’

Kate winced at the denigration in the comment. This was the only time she could remember when she’d had an equal part in a conversation with her father. And his last comment incensed her. ‘If it hadn’t been for Rory and his family I’d have known no love at all after Mother died.’

It was all starting to make sense, though. ‘Is that what happened? Did Mother have to marry you? Because of me?’

He poked his finger at her, stabbing the air with each word. ‘Your mother was too easy with her ways and then wasn’t strong enough to survive out here. She lost my son.’

She shook her head, suddenly sorry for this sad old man she’d never connected with. ‘My mother needed more than a roof over her head to live here. And you didn’t have a loving bone in your body.’

He sagged back in the chair. ‘Too late now.’