Midwife's Christmas Proposal. Fiona McArthur
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in the city, you bumped into the women again in Lyrebird Lake, and she wasn’t quite used to that but it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be.
Technically she was autonomous in that she had her own women to care for, under the aegis of Montana, the most senior midwife, and they case-conferenced once a week so everyone knew what was going on. She was an integral part of the team of midwives and doctors who worked in the adjoining hospital as well on quiet days, and they were always happy to be back-up for any obstetric hiccough. So she felt supported in her role and that she contributed. It was a heady feeling and she still couldn’t believe her luck.
Incredibly, everyone seemed as eager to learn new trends as she was, and everyone researched changes in medical practice and then helped others to learn too. There was also enough going on in the other half of the hospital to stay updated on the medical side. This place was a utopia for a fledgling midwife who planned to make her career her life.
In the six months she’d been here her professional confidence had grown along with her belief in women and her own attending skills.
The motto of the lake, ‘Listen to women,’ had been gently but firmly reinforced. Very different from her training hospital’s unwritten motto of ‘We know best for all women.’
She wondered what the gorgeous Simon’s philosophy was but coming from a busy practice working out of a major city hospital she had a fair suspicion.
Steady footsteps approached down the hallway and the object of her thoughts strolled into the room—which inexplicably seemed to shrink until he owned the majority of it—and she found herself basking in the warmth of his smile again.
Another unexpected flow of heat to the cheeks. Man, she’d never been a blusher. Thankfully, he turned the charm onto Louisa and Tara wilted back into her chair with relief.
She heard him say, ‘I might go for a wander along the lake, Louisa, and relax after the drive.’ He eased his neck as if it was kinked. ‘Maeve’s putting her feet up for an hour before this evening.’
Tara saw Louisa’s eyes glint with determination and not being known for subtlety, Tara’s stomach tightened, but it was too late. ‘Why don’t you join him, Tara? You always say it’s good to walk after a night shift.’
NOW, THAT WAS sink-into-the-floor-worthy. Tara could have glared at Louisa except the older lady didn’t have a mean bone in her soft little body. Instead she shook her head. ‘No. No. Simon will want to reacquaint himself. He doesn’t need me to hold his hand.’
‘I won’t hold your hand if you don’t want me to,’ he was teasing, but this time there was no hiding the connection and she closed her eyes.
When she opened them he was smiling quizzically at her, and grudgingly she accepted that as a recipient it didn’t feel as bad as it could have.
‘I don’t bite,’ he said. ‘I’d like the company but only if you want to.’
Growth experience. He thinks you’re a socially adept woman. That would be a first. She could do this. The guy worked with women all the time. Practise at least on a man who was skilled at putting women at ease. Made sense. ‘Fine. I can’t feel more embarrassed.’ She glanced at Louisa, who apparently didn’t bat an eyelid at putting her in the hot seat and was humming happily, satisfied two of her chickens were getting along.
She could almost smile at that. Tara picked up the sunglasses she’d left beside the window because she still suffered from that night-duty glare aversion that too little sleep left you with. Simon held the door open for her—something that happened a lot in the quaintness around here. A few months ago she would have been surprised but today she just murmured, ‘Thank you,’ and passed in front of him.
They’d turned out of the driveway before he spoke and surprisingly the silence wasn’t awkward. Thank goodness someone else didn’t mind peace and quiet. Years of keeping her own counsel had taught her the value of quiet time—but quiet time in the company of others was an added bonus she could savour. She didn’t think she’d met anyone she felt so in tune with so quickly. Though the air might be peaceful, it still vibrated between them.
Stop worrying, she admonished herself, a habit she’d picked up in the orphanage and on foster-parent weekends. Just let it be.
She looked ahead to where the path curled around the edge of the lake like a pale ribbon under the overhanging trees, and the water shimmered through the foliage like diamonds of blue glass in the ripples.
This place soothed her soul more than she could have ever imagined it would. Until unexpectedly a creature rustled in the undergrowth and her step faltered as it swished away from them into the safety of the water’s edge. Typical, she thought, there’s always a snake in the grass.
She shuddered. Snakes were the only creatures she disliked but that was probably because someone had put one in her bed once. ‘Hope that wasn’t something that can bite.’
Simon glanced after the noise. ‘No. Doubt it. Might even have been a lyrebird.’ He grinned. ‘Have they told you about the legend of the lyrebird?’ There was definitely humour in his deep voice. The man had a very easy soothing bass and she found herself listening more to the melody of the words than the content. Tried harder for the words.
‘Nope. You mean as in why they call the place Lyrebird Lake?’ She shrugged. ‘Not really into legends.’ Or fairy-tales. Or dreams of gorgeous men falling in love with her and carrying her off. Pshaw. Rubbish.
‘Ah. A disbeliever.’ He nodded his head sagely and she had to smile at his old-fashioned quaintness. ‘So you wouldn’t believe that in times of stress or, even more excitingly, when you meet your true love, a real live lyrebird appears and dances for you.’
Now she knew he was laughing at her. She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, I haven’t seen one and I’ve been here six months.’
‘Me either. And I’ve been coming here off and on for ten years.’ The smile was back in his voice. ‘But my father and Mia have.’
This time her brows rose and she had no doubt her healthy dollop of scepticism was obvious. ‘Really.’
His eyes crinkled. ‘And Montana and Andy. And Misty and Ben.’
‘You’re kidding me.’ These were sane, empowering people she’d looked up to. Consultants and midwives. Icons of the hospital. Or maybe he was pulling her leg. ‘Don’t believe you.’
‘Nope. All true.’ His eyes were dancing but she could see he was telling the truth as he believed it.
Then he’d been conned. ‘How many times has this happened?’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. You’d have to ask.’
Brother. ‘I will.’ She shook her head. He’d probably just made it all up. Men did say weird things to impress women. Though he didn’t seem like one of those guys, but, then again, her sleaze detection system had never worked well. ‘What else don’t I know about this place?’
He glanced around. ‘Well, half of that hill behind the lake …’ he pointed across the water ‘… is full of disused gold mines and labyrinths of old tunnels crisscross underneath our feet.’
She looked down at the path and grimaced. Imagined falling through into an underground cavern. She’d always had claustrophobia—or had since one particular foster-sibling had locked her in a cupboard. Now, that wasn’t a pleasant thought. ‘Thanks for that. How to ruin a walk.’
‘Well, not really under our feet. That might be stretching it a bit far. But certainly all around the hillside and a long way this way.’
‘Okay.’ She shook off the past and thought rationally about it. ‘I guess half our hospital’s business comes from