She eased herself stiffly into the cramped seat, quickly breathed in and out a couple of times and tried to secure her seat belt, but it wouldn’t latch into place. Her fingers fumbled with it.
She could do this. She tried again one-handed with Dawn against her chest and then again with slightly more desperation until the door beside her opened and the woodsy aftershave she’d begun to associate with Andy drifted past her nose.
‘May I?’ He looked down at her with a reassuring smile and she remembered why she’d decided to go with this man.
She sighed and relaxed, and at her nod Andy clicked her belt and then secured the tiny strap around Dawn that threaded between mother and daughter like a leather umbilical cord for emergencies.
It meant she was joined again to her daughter and she liked the idea for the flight.
She wondered who would be drawing reassurance from whom in the coming flight. Thank God Andy was there to look after both of them.
Then Andy climbed into the other side of the
plane and squeezed his big frame down next to her, and she could feel the warmth from his body like a soothing shield. She enjoyed feeling slightly safer until she remembered his presence meant they were close to take-off.
Oh, boy, she thought grimly, and concentrated on his strong hands as they caressed the controls. An unexpected wish to feel those fingers squeeze her hand in comfort made her twist to stare out the window.
‘You OK?’ She heard his voice and she turned back and hoped her face at least appeared calm.
‘Fine,’ she lied, and he looked across at her and grinned.
He nodded and resumed his flight preparations. She chewed her lip while he talked to the flight control tower and then it was too late to change her mind because the little Cessna had begun to taxi in an ungainly rattle down the runway.
Another small plane in front of them awaited take-off and she watched in sick fascination as it lined up and then hurtled away from them down the runway before it climbed precariously away into the sky. She swallowed the fear in her throat. Their plane would have to do that.
She wished irrationally that Dawn would be less settled and whimper or do something to distract her, but her daughter snoozed on regardless.
Andy positioned the plane and the engine built in noise until it seemed to scream—a little like the
noise Montana wanted to make but couldn’t—and her nerves stretched.
He looked across at her and flashed his white teeth in the joy of the moment before take-off. Pretty impressive dentistry, she acknowledged, by grimacing back, then she returned to the only thing she could do as she breathed in and out. She prayed.
Breathing was a good thing and improved the lightness in her head at least, and praying could be helpful if divine intervention was required.
He released the brakes and the plane began its thunder down the runway and when she risked a look the tarmac beside her blurred. Suddenly the noise changed and her stomach plummeted and she realised they were in the air as the ground dropped woozily below her window.
OhmyGod.
She turned her head away and closed her eyes.
Obviously Dawn travelled better than her mother. She was asleep. Montana tried to think of something different that rhymed with doom and gloom and boom. She moistened her lips and risked opening one eye.
They’d levelled out and Andy looked pretty relaxed. She opened her other eye.
She’d talk about the weather. ‘So, do you have emergency supplies in this thing and a homing beacon?’ That wasn’t what she’d meant to say.
Andy smiled. ‘GPS tracker and, yes, we have basic emergency supplies. Today we even have English
muffins, ginger marmalade and Norfolk punch as extras for my housekeeper and jasmine tea for you. But despite the size of the plane, we’re safe.’
He glanced at her sleeping daughter. ‘Dawn isn’t worried.’
Montana looked down at her. ‘Hmm. She has less imagination than I have.’
‘Wimp.’
His eyes danced and she noticed he had little brown flecks through the green of his irises, then she frowned at the unfairness of the comment.
‘Hey, if I was a wimp, I wouldn’t be here.’
The hundred-watt smile he sent her way warmed the ice around her heart and made her forget she and Dawn were in a fragile capsule a mile above the earth. Now it felt more like she floated in the air without support amongst the clouds outside her window. Heady stuff. Probably oxygen deprivation.
‘That’s true. You are not a wimp. Well done.’ His words continued to warm that cold spot she’d had in her chest for far too long, though it was probably just reactionary euphoria that they hadn’t died on take-off.
He changed the subject and began to recite anecdotes about the older doctor he lived with, and by the time they were nearly there she had acclimatised to the concept of flight, with Andy at least.
Montana’s first sight of Lyrebird Lake was as they broke through the low cloud and saw it lying ahead.
The grey of the water on the lake reflected the grey of the clouds that had dogged most of their journey and suddenly it suited her mood and her spirits plummeted.
She didn’t know anyone in this town except Andy. No doubt this sudden low feeling was helped by residual pregnancy hormones, but what had she been thinking of to leave everything she knew behind and literally take off with her week-old baby and a man she’d barely met? Even if he was the most restful man she’d ever known?
What if it didn’t work out? What if Dawn cried every night and kept the whole household awake? What if she lost this rapport with Andy that she relied on so much?
‘Y
OU
still with me?’
Andy could feel the change in Montana even though she tried to hide it.
He was way too aware of this woman but everything he’d done to try and change that awareness hadn’t worked and he did need to ensure he had a safety line to draw between him and her.
He was more than happy to help when he could, but it didn’t mean he had to try and fix all her problems.
It could be just her distrust of flying—lots of people weren’t comfortable in small planes—and he admired the way she’d overcome that fear without fuss or demands. But he had an idea it was more than that.
She was independent, he was that way himself so that shouldn’t bother him, but he wanted her to know he was available as a shoulder to lean on. As a brother, of course.
Actually, he wanted to reach over and squeeze
her hand and reassure her that everything would work out but despite the way his sister and her friends hugged each other, he didn’t feel at ease in the touchy-feely set. Not platonically anyway.
Then there was the suspicion that once he’d touched Montana it might be hard to stop, and Andy struggled with that idea of touching another woman after Catherine.
He’d brought Montana here for a job—he really did respect all the things she’d achieved in the past if what Misty said was true—and it was her administrative skills he needed.
He was better unencumbered with love and family and he didn’t doubt Montana could be the whole package—if he let her, which he wasn’t going to. He was better alone. He’d promised himself that and he had too much baggage to inflict on someone else.
He watched her slender fingers slide gently over Dawn’s hair and wondered who drew comfort from whom as she cuddled her baby close.
‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘I just had a minute of panic.’
She stared out the window at the expanse of water below and he leant across to point things out because it directed his thoughts away from this uncomfortable space he was in at the moment.
Besides, he’d always loved this view and he hoped she could see the beauty below despite the scar of new development near the lake.
A scattering of established houses along the
shore added to the town which nestled under a set of hills. ‘See the hills and the lookout. We have great bush walks and even a waterfall up there.’
Then the hospital came into view. ‘That’s all in the hospital grounds.’ He pointed out the largest tinroofed building and a scattering of smaller buildings spreading out from it. ‘The one across the park is our house.’
Montana inclined her head towards the town below. ‘The town is smaller than I anticipated.’ Her voice seemed smaller than before, too, and a moment’s panic had him hoping she didn’t want to turn around and go home.
‘It’s tiny compared to Westside but it’s a full of good people in a good town.’ He wanted her to feel comfortable and realise the potential he saw in the area himself. The hospital needed her. She had nothing to do with his own needs.
‘We have a large feeder district but anyone with a complicated medical condition would still be shipped out. Admissions to the hospital are fairly simple and mostly brief. Same goes for births. If it’s not simple, it’s gone. But if we expand our services, that would change with the needs of the mine population.’
She nodded. ‘Lyrebird Lake is an unusual name. Is it because of the shape of the lake or because you have lyrebirds?’
He’d never seen a lyrebird. ‘I guess it’s the shape of the lake. We’re pretty far north as a habitat.
There’s not much rainforest around here, though we do have some patches of wet forest which would make it possible.’
She nodded. ‘They are supposed to look like a small turkey with a tail. Has anyone ever seen one here?’
‘Not that I know of.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve heard some pretty strange noises in the bush so I guess I could have heard one. Apparently the lyrebird can copy another bird’s song, or an animal, or even man-made noises like chainsaws and crying babies.’
She smiled. ‘That would be a mother’s nightmare. One crying baby is enough.’
‘Ned says there’s a local myth that those who have suffered will be rewarded when the lyrebird visits. No visitations for me in the three years I’ve been here, and I think he’s pulling my leg.’
She smiled at his sceptical amusement. ‘So why are you here?’
He shrugged. ‘Lyrebird or not, the Lake healed me, and I think it could help you too.’ He looked across at her and hoped she realised he genuinely believed that and not just because he could use an extra midwife in the hospital.
‘The people are legitimate, as is their need, and you can’t stay immune to their warmth,’ he said. ‘I appreciate that after living in the city.’
She nodded so maybe she did understand. ‘Which hospital did you work in?’ she asked, and
for the first time in a long time he didn’t mind answering.
‘The year after my wife died I spent in the emergency department at Sydney General. U and O they called it—understaffed and overwhelmed.’
His voice lowered as he remembered. ‘You know what it’s like. Extremely long hours, no emotional involvement with patients, just save them or lose them. I was happy to do that as I built up a big wall to hide behind. I couldn’t see myself becoming more clinical and distanced from humanity.’ He shook his head.
‘Misty, and the friends I had alienated, saw it.’ Rueful grin there at the memory of how taciturn he’d been since his wife had died. ‘They ganged up on me and suggested I resign. Then told me about Ned, the Lake’s retired GP, and how he needed help for a few months. He’s got degenerative vision failure and I’ve been here ever since.’
He thought back over the last couple of years and how his mindset had altered for the better. ‘I’ve grown to love it here and I’m committed to providing the medical needs of the community. If those needs adjust then the hospital will darned well adjust too.’
He pointed to the north. ‘It made things interesting when the mine opened up twenty kilometres away and now the farmland is selling faster than the local government can subdivide. We have our first restaurant in town.’
‘A real restaurant in town? Very flash.’ She smiled, probably at the pride in his voice, and he laughed.
‘It is for us.’ He’d take her there one day. Angelo would love Montana.
He went on. ‘The hospital will get busier and the idea of a midwifery-led unit is not as far-fetched as you might imagine. There is a core of women in town who are very progressive and well read on their rights. They’d love women-centred care.’
She tilted her head. ‘And I thought you were just saying that to tempt me.’
He smiled and tried not to think about who was tempting whom, because that wasn’t part of the plan. ‘Now, why would I do that?’
She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you recognised my symptoms from your own past or maybe…’ She paused and considered him. ‘You just wanted someone else to have the headache of setting up a new service.’
He grinned. ‘Bingo! We could be a good team.’ He adjusted the flaps on the wing. ‘You ready? We’re going in.’
The noise of the plane engine changed and the little cabin tilted as they began their circling descent.
Dawn squirmed against her mother as her ears blocked from the altitude change. Montana slipped her little finger into her daughter’s mouth so she would suck and swallow and pop her ears.
As a diversion from the risks of landing small aircraft, Montana mulled over what Andy had said.
He seemed a little obsessed with the hospital and the town, and he lived with an older doctor and his housekeeper. Obviously he’d been devastated at the loss of his wife and now devoted himself to his work.
But what about friends? Or other women?
Didn’t he have a life?
Did he expect she’d be as committed as he was because she’d lost her husband too? Was that why he’d been so keen to have her come?
Maybe he’d planned to staff the hospital with bereaved doctors and nurses.
All good questions, she told herself.
She had to smile at her fanciful meanderings but they were coming in and the thoughts helped to divert her mind away from the ground looming up at her.
She hadn’t guaranteed she’d stay at the Lake and she might not feel the same next week. ‘I hope this works out as you plan. That Dawn and I can settle for a while.’
In the few seconds before he answered Montana realised that as the pilot he was responsible for the safety of their descent.
What was she thinking? Now was not the smartest time to distract the pilot.
‘Please, ignore me and concentrate.’ There was a squeak of sheer terror in her voice and he looked across at her and smiled reassuringly.
‘I’ve done this hundreds of times.’
She grimaced at him. ‘Why does that not reassure me? You only have to blow it once in a plane.’ She’d tried for lightness and she wasn’t sure she’d pulled it off, but he returned to her previous statement and his relaxed example helped her hands unclench.
‘I know there are no guarantees you’ll love the Lake like I do,’ he said. ‘That’s understandable. We’ll see what the next few weeks bring.’
They landed smoothly and taxied up to park near a tin shed that proclaimed a welcome to Queensland and Lyrebird Lake, and Montana thought how she would have felt welcome anywhere that had firm earth beneath her feet.
As they waited for the propeller to stop revolving Andy slid his hands onto his strongly muscled thighs and turned to grin at her. ‘Well, you survived your flight and here we are.’
‘Thank you for getting us here safely.’ Her comment was heartfelt. ‘Interesting airport.’ She looked around at the deserted tarmac, though there did seem to be some activity in a hangar across the grass.
Andy followed her gaze. ‘There are great people in the flying club out here. I’ll have to bring you out to one of their barbeques. It’s a fun evening under the stars with a bunch of larrikins.’
He inclined his head towards the hangar. ‘Though they do take their flying seriously and I can’t beat one of them in the flour bombing.’
The propeller swung on its last rotation and
Andy flicked the last of his switches and then climbed out to come around to her side.
He opened her door and warm air rushed in and wrapped around her like welcoming arms. She hoped it was prophetic. She hadn’t expected to feel like that about the new town.
Andy reached in to undo the strap around Dawn and Montana’s seat belt, and the release of the restraint seemed almost symbolic of her new life.
‘Here,’ Andy said. ‘Give me Dawn while you climb out.’
Dawn whimpered when she was lifted but settled happily on Andy’s shoulder and Montana was reminded how at ease he was with her daughter.
He used his other hand to help steady her as Montana climbed awkwardly over the doorframe but soon her feet were thankfully on the earth again. She resisted the impulse to bend down and kiss the ground, but it wasn’t easy.
His green eyes sparkled with mischief and she had the sneaking suspicion he knew what she’d been thinking.
‘This way,’ he said. ‘My car is in that shed and it’s too hot to leave you both out in the sun while I get it. We’ll walk across and I’ll drive it back to the plane for the gear.’
He shifted Dawn down his chest so he could cover her head from the sun and the glare, and she loved the way he did these little things so naturally.
She couldn’t help but wonder how Douglas
would have handled having a baby in his life twenty-four hours, seven days a week, as children hadn’t been high on his list of priorities.
Surreptitiously she watched Andy lope across the grass beside her and she strained to hear his one-sided conversation with Dawn.
‘You’re a big girl now, Dawn. Did you enjoy your first flight? You were very brave. You must be Mummy’s daughter because she’s very brave. You are going to love it here.’
I hope so, Montana thought, because she had the feeling that Andy would do everything in his power to look after them and help them settle. If only she didn’t feel disloyal to Douglas it would be all good because she couldn’t help feeling as though she had the opportunity of fresh beginnings here.
As they drove through the town Montana felt even better. The main street was so wide it had huge shady trees planted in the middle of the road and the cars were parked at an angle next to the footpath.
People waved at Andy as he drove and the whole atmosphere was one of enjoyment of life. The buildings were old but restored in heritage greys and blues and she smiled across at Andy who delighted in her obvious enjoyment.
Like the flight had been, settling into Lyrebird Lake proved much easier than she’d anticipated, and Andy was the person who made it so.
The first morning Montana came in to breakfast
Andy was there with a welcoming smile and a cup of tea. ‘Your jasmine tea,
madame.’
He looked very pleased with himself as he handed her the cup. ‘Perhaps I could cuddle Dawn?’ He tilted his head. ‘If that’s OK with you?’
Dawn had been a little upset overnight, no doubt picking up her mother’s unsettled mood, and she guessed Andy must have heard her.
Her stomach dropped. ‘Did she keep you awake?’
Andy’s forehead crinkled. ‘No. I only heard her for a couple of minutes all night so you must be an awesome mother,’ he teased, and Montana relaxed.
She’d thought the walls seemed pretty thick. Still, it was weird to suddenly share a home with people she barely knew, and she couldn’t help worrying that her new baby would disrupt the household.
Andy had his hands out so she passed Dawn to him and sat down as her daughter semi-grimaced at Andy. ‘Typical. That’s the first smile I’ve seen all morning. She likes you all right.’
‘What have you done to your poor mother, missy?’ Andy admonished Dawn with a teasing finger. Then he glanced across as if to assess Montana’s fatigue.
‘Take it easy today,’ he said. ‘If you’re up to it, we’ll go for a walk along the lake this evening so you know the lie of the land. Otherwise you should be sleeping when Dawn sleeps.’
He was sweet. She’d said the same thing herself to countless women. ‘Who’s the mother here? It’s
strange to have someone say something to me that I’m always telling other new mums to do.’