CHRISTMAS IN LYREBIRD LAKE

Where Christmas miracles can happen …

For midwives Tara and Maeve, the sleepy town of Lyrebird Lake is the haven they’ve always wanted. So they’re determined to make their first Christmas there special!

Neither of them are looking for love—but this year, with the help of some Lyrebird Christmas magic, the celebrations will be beyond their wildest imaginings …

You won’t want to miss this fabulous new festive duet from Fiona McArthur:

MIDWIFE’S CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

&

MIDWIFE’S MISTLETOE BABY

Available December 2014

Mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™ gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband, Ian, are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthurauthor.com

Midwife’s Christmas Proposal

Fiona McArthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader

I’ve loved Simon Campbell since he was a twenty-year-old on his first visit to Lyrebird Lake. That was about ten years ago in real time.

Simon has always made me smile, and has made me want to write his story for years. Readers have asked for him, and he’s been in the back of my mind, but I just couldn’t find the right woman for him—and he deserved the right woman.

Simon even visited in a couple of the Lyrebird Lake stories—a fleeting visit … just enough to remind me how much I cared about him, how much potential I always felt he had as a hero for the right woman. In the meantime he cared for his sisters, grew in his work, but always something was missing.

And then along came Tara … Tara who was so externally tough, so inwardly fragile, so able to be incredibly giving but so unskilled at relationships because she’d never had the chance. Tara who had missed out on so much in her childhood that only someone like Simon could hope to even the scales. Simon and the magic of Lyrebird Lake.

I’ve so enjoyed sharing with Tara and Simon in their journey to falling in love. I’ve loved the whole Christmas setting. I’ve loved revisiting the lyrebird dance. And I’ve absolutely loved setting a little of Maeve and Rayne’s story amidst it all for the next book. I hope you do too.

Happy Christmas!

Fi xx

Dedication

To my son Scott, who gifted me my first parachute jump and the pictures that went with it. And to the experience that I knew I would put into this book.

And to Lawrence, my chute buddy from Coffs Skydivers, who made it such fun that I was never, ever scared.

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SIMON LOOKED AWAY from the road as he drove and across to his sister. Saw the tiny furrow in her brow even while she was sleeping. His eyes returned to the car in front. So she was still angry with him. Where had he gone wrong? All he’d ever wanted to do was protect his family. Protect Maeve from making the same mistakes their mother had made.

Maybe he felt more responsible than other siblings because the day he’d found out he was only a half-brother to Maeve and the girls had been devastating and he did wonder if he’d over-compensated.

But he was concerned about Maeve. About the way she’d been taken for a ride and she still couldn’t see it. If Simon was honest with himself, he was just as hurt because he’d thought Rayne was his friend and he’d been suckered in as well. His sister’s predicament had been all his fault.

Simon could feel his knuckles tighten on the wheel and he consciously relaxed them. He needed a holiday, and Maeve needed somewhere safe away from the baby’s father if he ever came back, so maybe Lyrebird Lake was a good choice, like Maeve said.

And it was Christmas.

Two hours later they drove into the driveway of the Manse Medical Centre, Lyrebird Lake. The long day drive north from Sydney had been accomplished with little traffic issues or conversation. The last hour since they’d turned away from the coast had been unusually relaxing as they’d passed green valleys and bovine pedestrians. It was good to be here finally.

Simon felt that warmth of homecoming he’d forgotten about in the rush and bustle of his busy life—almost like he could feel one of Louisa’s enthusiastically warm hugs gearing up—as he slowed the car.

The engine purred to a stop and Maeve woke. She smiled sleepily, then remembered they were at odds with each other, and the smile fell away.

He watched her twist awkwardly in her seat as she took in the dry grass and huge gum trees ‘I’ve heard such a lot about this place over the years. Thanks for bringing me, Simon.’

The tension in his shoulders lessened. At least she was talking to him again. He should never have mentioned his reservations about her idea of giving birth at Lyrebird Lake. That had been his obstetrician’s point of view. Life had compartments, or should have, and he usually kept everything separate and in control.

Look what had happened when Maeve had lost control.

Simon’s eyes travelled over the familiar sights—the hospital and birth centre across the road from Louisa’s house, the sleepy town just down the road, and the sparkling harp-shaped lake to the left behind the trees.

Unexpectedly, considering the mood he’d been in when he’d started out for here against his will, he couldn’t do anything but smile as he eased his car under the carport at the side of the house.

‘Curious.’ Simon admired the old but beautifully restored Harley-Davidson tucked into a corner and then shrugged. He couldn’t imagine Louisa on it but there were always interesting people staying at the manse.

It didn’t seem ten years since he’d first come here with his new-found dad, Angus, but this big sprawling house Angus had brought him to all those years ago looked just the same. He’d arrived expecting awkwardness with his fledgling relationship with his birth father, and awkwardness staying with strangers in this small country town. But there hadn’t been any.

He glanced at Maeve. ‘Louisa will have heard us arrive.’

‘Louisa used to be the housekeeper before she married your grandfather? Right?’

‘Yep. They married late in life before he passed away. I stay with her when I come at Christmas.’

Simon climbed out quickly so he could open her door, but of course, Maeve was too darned independent. By the time they reached the path out front Louisa stood at the top of the steps, wiping her hands on her apron, and beamed one of Lyrebird Lake’s most welcoming smiles.

Simon put his bag down and leapt up the two stairs to envelop the little woman in a hug. She felt just as roundly welcoming as he remembered. ‘It’s so good to see you, Louisa.’

‘And you too, Simon. I swear you’re even taller than last year.’

He had to smile at that as he stepped back. ‘Surely I’ve reached an age where I can’t keep growing.’ He looked back at his sister, standing patiently at the bottom of the steps. ‘Though with your cooking there is a possibility I could grow while I’m here.’

He offered a steadying hand but Maeve declined, made her way determinedly balancing her taut belly out front, as she climbed to the top of the stairs, so he guessed he wasn’t totally forgiven.

He missed the easy camaraderie they used to have and hoped, perhaps a little optimistically, that Lyrebird Lake might restore that rapport as well. He guessed he had been out of line in some of the things he’d said about her choice in men and choice in birthing place.

‘This is my youngest sister, Maeve. Maeve, this is my grandmother, Louisa.’

Louisa blushed with pleasure. ‘You always were a sweetheart.’ She winked at Maeve. ‘Grandmother-in-law but very happy to pretend to be a real one.’

Maeve held out her hand. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you. Simon’s told us a lot about you and everyone here. He says you’re a wonderful cook.’

He saw Louisa’s kind eyes brush warmly over Maeve and Simon relaxed even further. Of course Louisa would make them both feel wanted. ‘Boys need their food.’ He smiled to himself because he wasn’t sure how he qualified for boy when he’d left thirty behind.

Louisa went on, ‘You’re very welcome here, dear,’ as she glanced at Maeve’s obvious tummy. ‘It will be lovely to have a baby back in the house again, even if only for a wee while.’

Simon squeezed her plump shoulder. ‘Dad and Mia not here?’

‘They’re coming over for dinner tonight. They thought it would be less overwhelming for Maeve if she had a chance to settle in first.’

She turned to Maeve. ‘And we’ll take it gradually to meet everyone else. There’s a huge circle of family and friends who will want to catch up with Simon and meet you.’

Simon went back to pick up their bags and followed Louisa and Maeve into the house. The scent of cedar oil on the furniture made his nose twitch with memories—overlaid with the drifting promise of fresh-cut flowers and, of course, the tantalising aroma of Louisa’s hot pumpkin scones.

His shoulders sagged as his tension lessened with each step he made into the house. He should have come here earlier. Leaving it until now had been crazy but his last two breech women had come in right at the last minute and he hadn’t wanted to leave them uncertain about who would be there for them.

But enough. He needed to let go of work for a while and just chill, a whole month to Christmas and his first real break in years—and maybe the strain wasn’t all on Maeve’s side because he’d been holding on too tight for a while now.

This was what this place was good for. Finding the peace you were supposed to find as Christmas approached.

Behind a bedroom door in the same house Tara Dutton heard the car arrive and when, minutes later, footsteps sounded down the hall she rolled over in bed, yawned and squinted at the clock.

Two o’clock in the afternoon. She’d had six hours sleep, which was pretty good. Her mouth curved as she rolled back onto her back and stretched.

Last night’s sharing of such a long, slow, peaceful labour and in the end a beautiful birth just as the sun had risen made everything shiny new. Babies definitely liked that time just before morning. Man, she loved this job.

She wriggled her toes and then sat up to swing her legs out of bed. Heard calm voices. Relief expanded, which was crazy when she didn’t know them—but they were here safely. It would be Angus’s son, Simon, and his sister. They arrived today and she admitted to a very healthy curiosity about the man everyone obviously adored, and even more so for his sister.

Simon’s arrival had been the main topic of conversation for the last few days but Tara was more interested in Maeve.

Twenty-five, pregnant and a newly qualified midwife. Two out of three things Tara had been before she’d come here. Pregnancy wasn’t on her agenda.

But that was okay. She breathed deeply and vowed again not to let the unchangeable past steal her present, and thankfully the calm she found so much easier to find in Lyrebird Lake settled over her like the soft quilt on her bed.

Clutching her bundle of fresh clothes, she opened the door to the hallway a crack to check the coast was clear, then scooted up the polished wooden floor to the bathroom and slipped inside.

Simon heard the bedroom door open from the kitchen and leaned back precariously in his chair until the two front legs were off the floor, and craned his neck to see who was in the hall. He glimpsed the back of a small, pertly bottomed woman in men’s boxer shorts, one tiny red rose tattooed on her shoulder exposed by the black singlet as she disappeared into the bathroom.

His mouth curved as the years dropped away. He remembered arriving here with his father and their first sight of the woman who would later become his darling stepmother.

See! Always someone interesting staying in this place, he thought to himself again with a smile, and eased the front legs of the chair back on the floor.

When Tara stepped out of the bathroom thirty minutes later she felt nothing like the crumpled sleepyhead she’d been when she’d slipped in.

Her glance in the mirror over the claw-foot bath had reassured her. Blonde hair spikily fresh from the shower and her eyes confident and ready to meet the new guy and his intriguing sister.

Tara had experienced a lot of heartache and struggle in her life and it had made her wary of meeting new people. But the shadows of her past had made her who she was today—her T-shirt said it all: ‘Woman With Attitude’.

As she walked back towards her room she passed the open door of one of the guest rooms. She couldn’t help but have a tiny peek inside.

Simon’s bag lay open on the bed, and she blinked at the neatly folded clothes in piles lined up in a row as she drew level, unlike her own ‘bomb-hit’ room, and she vowed she’d keep her door shut until he left.

Simon came into view, busily unpacking, and must have become aware of the eyes on him from the doorway. He glanced up, smiled, and she faltered. Man, that was some smile, like a warm breeze had blown down the hall and into her face, and Tara nearly tripped on the towel that slipped unexpectedly from her fingers.

‘Hi, there. You must be Tara.’

She bent quickly to retrieve the towel. ‘And you’re Simon.’ Tara moistened her lips. Louisa had said he was a bit of hunk like his dad but she’d put that down as favouritism for a relative. She certainly hadn’t expected the fantasy that suddenly swirled in her head. Something like inviting him in two doors down for some seriously red-hot tumbling, but, mamma mia, he had a wicked bedroom grin.

Whoa, there, libido, where did you spring from? More to the point, where have you been?

Then he stepped closer and held out his hand and she forgot to think, just responded, and his fingers closed around hers, cool and surprisingly comforting, as he leaned forward with grace and unselfconscious warmth so that she couldn’t be offended as he unexpectedly kissed her cheek.

‘It’s very nice to meet you.’

A cheek-kisser? Her brain clicked in. And nice to meet you, too, mister. There was nothing gushing or sleazy about the way he’d done the deed but she still wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get away with it.

It was as if his whole persona screamed gentleman and usually the goody-two-shoes type turned her off. Though she was trying to change her tastes from bad boys to normal men after the last fiasco.

This guy made her think of one of those lifesavers on the beach at Bondi—tall, upstanding, with genuine love of humanity, careful of other people’s safety but perfectly happy to risk their own lives to save yours. She blinked. And rumour said that apparently this guy wasn’t even shackled to some discerning woman.

She was not bowled over! Not at all! She liked Angus for his solid dependability but this Simon beat his father hands down on the warmth stakes, that was all.

He was still waiting for her to answer him. Question? ‘Nice to meet you, too.’ What else could she say except something to get her out of his doorway? ‘I’d better leave you to unpack.’

He didn’t look like he wanted her to leave but she forced her feet to move. By the time she made it back to her bedroom her neck was hot with embarrassment. With great restraint she closed her door gently and with a sigh leant against it.

Talk about vibration. So much vibration it was lucky they hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Holey dooley, she was in trouble if they were both going to live in this house for the next few weeks and react like that. Or maybe it was one-sided and he was totally oblivious to her. She smiled at her feet. Somehow she doubted it.

Simon watched her go. Couldn’t help himself, really. Not a beauty in the stereotypical sense, her face was too angled for that, but she was a sassy, sexy little thing, and she had a definite pert little wiggle when she walked. She reminded him a bit of Maeve’s girlfriends with that bolshie, I’m-my-own-woman persona that young females seemed to have nowadays.

Lord, he sounded like an old man but, seriously, this generation made him smile. But, then, didn’t all women make him smile? Which might be why he hadn’t seemed to find himself tied to just one. Problem with growing up with four sisters? Or problem with him and commitment?

Not that he didn’t plan to have a family, settle down and be the best dad and husband he could be, but pledging to stay with one woman had been a tad difficult when he really didn’t believe the odds of finding his other half.

Maybe he would end up in Lyrebird Lake at some stage, though after this last horror year he couldn’t see himself taking the holistic approach to birth that was the norm here.

He turned back to the unpacking. Lined up the paired socks in the drawer and placed his folded jocks beside them. His last girlfriend had said his fussiness drove her mad and he was tempted to mess the line up a little but couldn’t do it.

His sisters had always thought it hilarious that he liked things tidy. Having lived briefly with all of them as adults at one time or another, being the only sibling with stable housing, it wasn’t such a bad thing. They were absolute disasters at order.

But he wouldn’t change any of them. After his mother and stepfather had moved to America someone had needed to be able to put their hands on a spare house key to help out the current family member in crisis. And mild, acquired OCD wasn’t a bad thing to have if you were a big brother—or a doctor. None of his patients had complained he was too careful.

He wondered what traits young Tara had acquired from her life and then shook his head. He didn’t want to know. Lyrebird Lake was the last place to come for a fling because everyone would know before you’d even kissed her. A little startled at how easily he could picture that scenario, he brushed it away.

This was the place you brought one woman and settled down for good and he wasn’t sure he believed in that for himself.

Five minutes later Tara had herself together enough to venture out to the kitchen, where Louisa had set out a salad for post-night-duty lunch.

The older lady hummed as she worked and the smile when she looked up to see Tara shone even brighter than normal.

‘Have you met him?’ No doubt at all whom she meant and Louisa wobbled with pride.

Tara had to smile. ‘In the hallway.’

‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’

Tara picked up a carrot stick and took a bite. Chewed and swallowed—not just the carrot but the tiny voluptuous shiver as well. Back under control. ‘He’s very handsome. But no ideas, Louisa. He’s an up-and-coming consultant here for a couple of weeks. And he’s far too nice for me.’

‘Silly girl. Of course he’s not, he’s just what you need.’ She turned and started humming again and Tara had to smile as she glanced out the window to the veranda looking over the lake. She wasn’t sure what that meant but she couldn’t get offended by Louisa’s mutterings—wouldn’t do her any good if she did.

Tara had never had the kind of hugging acceptance she’d found in the small semi-rural community and sometimes she had to remind herself it might even be okay to learn to care for these people.

Then reality would resurface and she knew it would be just like the past—something would happen, she’d have to leave under a cloud and she’d be forgotten.

But she’d always have her work now wherever she went, she reminded herself, the first stability she’d known since the orphanage, and attainment had been such a golden rush as she’d passed her last exam, and that was priceless.

While socially she might be a bit stunted, okay, she granted more than a little stunted, but the work side of her life here couldn’t be more satisfying with the midwifery-led birth centre.

She could finally do what she loved and, man, how she loved doing it. Loved the immersion in a woman’s world of childbirth, the total connection as she supported a woman through her most powerful time, and then the exclusion when that woman departed for home. Just like a foster-family and she was good at saying goodbye. Except unlike where she’d done her training 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.’

CHAPTER TWO

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 the mines out of town so it makes sense we’d have some here.’ She glanced at him as they walked at a steady pace around the lake. Maybe she could start fossicking for gold after work—above ground, of course—and make her fortune to pay off the debts Mick had left her with. ‘Have you been in them?’

He laughed. Even looked a little pink-cheeked. ‘Once. To my embarrassment.’ Shook his head at himself. ‘I can’t believe I brought this up.’ He glanced at Tara ruefully and sighed. ‘I had to ring Mia to get my dad to rescue me.’

She looked across at him and grinned. Good to see other people did dumb things. ‘Ouch.’

‘Not one of my more glorious moments.’

She looked at him, loose-limbed, strongly muscled with that chiselled jaw and lurking smile. A man very sure of his world and his place in it. She wished. Shook her head. ‘I’m sure you have enough glorious moments.’

The quizzical look was back but all he said was, ‘Yep. Hundreds.’

She had to laugh at that. ‘I’m still waiting for mine.’

‘My turn not to believe you.’ So he’d noticed her scepticism. He tilted his head and studied her with leisurely thoroughness. ‘Do you enjoy your work?’

‘Love it.’

‘Then I’ll bet you have lots of successes too.’

She thought about earlier that morning and smiled. ‘I do get to share other women’s glorious moments.’ Changed the subject. ‘Mia says you’re running a breech clinic at Sydney Central?’

‘Yep. Was converted by an amazing guy I worked with when I was a registrar. Had the motto “Don’t interfere”. Said most women had the ground work for a normal breech birth.’

She couldn’t agree more but her training hospital hadn’t subscribed to that theory. The only babies allowed to be born in the breech position were the ones who came in off the street ready to push their own way out. She’d never been lucky enough to be on duty for that. ‘I’ve watched a lot of breech births on videos but I haven’t seen one in real life.’

‘You will. Hopefully trends are changing with new research. Women are demanding a chance at least. Maybe one of your glorious moments is coming up. You obviously love midwifery.’

‘I was always going to be a nurse, because my mother was a nurse, even though I don’t remember much about her, but then one of my friends lost a baby and I decided I’d be a midwife. It was a good decision.’

‘I think it’s a fabulous decision. Some of my best friends are midwives.’ He returned to their previous conversation. ‘But I can’t believe there isn’t more to your life than your job.’

‘You’re right.’ She thought of her arrival here six months ago. ‘I love my bike.’

‘Ah. So the black monster is yours?’

‘Yep. The sum total of my possessions.’

‘University can be expensive.’

She’d only just started paying that back. It was the bills Mick had run up all over town that crippled her. More fool her for having the lease and the accounts in her name. They’d both been in the orphanage together and when she’d met him again she’d been blinded to his bitter and dangerous side because, mistakenly, she’d thought she’d found family.

But her dream of everything being fair and equal had been torn into a pile of overdue notices. ‘Druggie boyfriends can be expensive too.’ Unintentionally the words came out on a sigh. What the heck was she doing?

‘Nasty. Had one of those, did you.’

She turned her face and grimaced at the lake so he couldn’t see. She was tempted to say ‘Dozens’ but it wasn’t true. It had taken her too long to actually trust someone that first time. ‘Hmm. I’m a little too used to people letting me down. Don’t usually bore people with it.’

‘Don’t imagine you bore people at all.’

She could hear the smile in his voice and some of the annoyance with herself seeped away then surged again, even though it was unreasonably back towards Simon. What would he know about where she’d been? What she’d been through?

Then, thankfully, the calmness she’d been practising for the last six months since she’d met these people whispered sense in her ear and she let the destructive thoughts go. Sent the whole mess that was her past life out over the rippled water of the lake and concentrated on the breath she eased out.

She had no idea where the conversational ball lay as she returned to the moment but let that worry go too. Took another breath and let her shoulders drop.

‘That’s some control you have there, missy.’

She blinked at Simon and focussed on him. On his calm grey eyes mainly and the warmth of empathy—not ridicule, as she’d expected, but admiration and understanding.

‘I’m practising positive mindfulness and self-control.’ She didn’t usually tell people that either.

He nodded as if he knew what it was, probably didn’t, then he surprised her with his own disclosure. ‘I’m not good at it. But if it makes you feel any better I have hang-ups too. Luckily I have a very busy work life.’

She smiled at the statement. ‘Funny how we can hide in that. I was studying like mad, paying bills for two in my time off, and he was gambling and doing drugs when I thought he was at uni.’ She shrugged it away. ‘Now I have a busy work life and a really big bike.’

‘The bike’s a worry.’

‘The bike?’ She shook her head and could almost feel the wind on her face and the vibration in her ears. ‘Not if you have no ties. Always loved the spice of danger. It would be different if I had someone who needed me.’ There was a difference between someone needing you and someone using you. She’d agreed not to drag them both through the court system but she would only keep all the bills at the cost of his bike. Even though it had only been worth a quarter of the debts he’d run up, possession of the bike had restored some of her self-esteem. Mick hadn’t been happy and sometimes she wondered if it really all was finished.

‘Ah. So you admit that motorbikes are the toys of possibly “temporary” citizens?’

‘Spoken like a true doctor.’

‘Ask any paramedic. The stats are poor.’

She grinned at him—he had no idea. ‘But the fun is proportional. I could take you for a ride one day.’

He raised his brows. ‘I’d have to think about that.’

‘Sure. No rush. You have time.’ She couldn’t imagine him ever saying yes. Which was a good thing because she suspected the experience of Simon’s arms wrapped around her and his thighs hard up against her backside would make it very difficult to concentrate. Instead she looked up ahead. ‘So how far are we walking? You’ll be at your father’s house soon.’

He glanced up in surprise. Looked around. ‘You’re right. I guess he’ll be at work anyway.’

‘Mia will be home. She was on duty the night before me.’

‘I’d forgotten you were up all night.’ His glance brushed warmly over her and surprisingly she didn’t feel body-conscious. It wasn’t that kind of look. ‘You do it well. I always look like a dishrag for the next few days.’

She nodded wisely. ‘That would be the age factor.’

It was his turn to blink then grin, and she was glad he had a sense of humour. Nice change. Not sure why she’d tried to alienate him, unless she’d wanted him to turn away so she wouldn’t have to.

‘Touché, young woman.’ He looked ahead to the house they were approaching. ‘Let’s go and see my gorgeous step-mama and my second family of sisters. This old man needs a cold drink.’

CHAPTER THREE

SIMON’S STEP-MAMA, NOT all that much older than Simon, greeted them with open arms, her red curls bouncing as she rushed out to hug him. Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at Simon fondly, and Tara was pretty sure nobody had ever looked at her like that.

Two copper-curled miniature Mias tumbled out of the door, one more demurely because she was eleven, and the other squealing because she was eight, but in the end both threw themselves at Simon, who scooped them up one in each hand and spun them around as he hugged them. ‘How are my little sisters today?’

Tara unobtrusively admired the stretch of material over his upper arms as with impressive ease he twirled the girls like feathers. He might be way out of her league but this Simon Campbell was certainly delicious eye candy. She could deal with just looking in. She did that all the time.

He kissed them both on the cheek and they giggled as he put them down.

‘It feels like ages since we saw you, Simon.’ The elder girl, Layla, pouted.

‘Eleven months. Christmas.’ He put them at arm’s length and looked them over, nodded, satisfied they looked well, before he turned back and studied Mia again. ‘And how is my gorgeous step-mama?’

‘All the better for seeing you.’ They embraced again and the genuine warmth overflowed to where Tara was standing. ‘Once a year is not enough.’

Touchy-feely family or what! Tara pushed away the tiny stab of jealousy. So what if Simon had this whole network of adoring relatives and she didn’t.

Simon grinned and stepped back so that Mia turned to Tara and leaned in for a hug. Tara tried, she really did, to hug back. She seemed to be getting better at it. ‘Tara. Great to see you, too.’ Mia nodded her head at Simon. ‘So you two have met.’

Simon grinned. ‘In the hallway. Made me think of you and Dad. Then Louisa nagged Tara into accompanying me on my walk.’

‘Poor Tara.’ Mia grinned and looked at her. ‘Met in the hallway, did you? I hope you had clothes on, Tara. I was in a towel when I met his father and sparks flew even on the first day.’

Tara had to laugh. ‘In that case I’m glad to say I was dressed. And had six hours’ sleep under my belt.’

Mia’s eyes sharpened. ‘That’s right. You were on night duty last night. How was Julie’s labour? What time was her baby born?’

‘Quarter to five this morning, on the dot. Sunrise.’

Mia shook her head with a smile. ‘Babies seem to love sunrise.’

‘I was just thinking that.’ Tara soaked up the warmth she was getting used to from these people and then blinked as Mia spun on her heel. ‘Come in. What was I thinking?’ She waved a hand. ‘Have a cold drink. Angus will be jealous I got to see you first, Simon.’

‘But not surprised.’

Mia laughed. Then she sobered as she remembered. ‘Anyway, how are you? You look tired. And how is Maeve?’

‘I’m fine. Maeve’s pregnancy has four weeks to go and the baby’s father is still in a US penitentiary. I hope.’

‘I’m sorry you’ve all had that worry. What did your mother say? It must be hard for her to be living so far away in Boston when her daughter is pregnant.’

‘There’s not a lot she can do. Maeve refuses to have her baby in America and Dad’s unwell and Mum can’t leave.’

‘Then Maeve is lucky she has you.’

He shrugged. ‘My youngest sister has me stumped the way she is at the moment. I can’t say anything right. I’m worried about her.’

Tara wasn’t quite sure if she was supposed to hear all this or whether she should drift away and look out the window over the lake or something, but she guessed everyone else would know the ins and out of it. She’d find out eventually.

Mia was talking and walking until she opened the fridge. ‘So you could’ve brought her here earlier, even if you couldn’t get away. She could have stayed here or with Louisa. You know how Louisa loves to have people under her roof. And Tara’s there.’ She turned to Tara and drew her back into the circle.

‘Isn’t that right, Tara?’

‘I’ve never felt more welcome in my life,’ she said quietly, and hoped the others missed the pathetic neediness in the statement.

Thankfully they must have because Simon went on as if all was normal. ‘Well, now that I’m here I’m hoping I can manage a few weeks of relaxation till she settles in. Though I may have to do a quick trip back and forth in the middle. It depends when my next two private women go into labour, but they’re not due till after the new year.’

Mia closed the refrigerator and returned with two tall glasses of home-made lemonade. ‘So how are your training sessions going? Have you managed to inspire a few more docs to think breech birth without Caesarean can be a normal thing?’

He took the glass. ‘Thanks. ‘I’m trying. My registrar’s great.’ He took a sip and closed his eyes in delight. ‘Seriously, Mia, you could retire on this stuff.’

She actually looked horrified. ‘Retire? Who wants to retire?’

‘Sometimes I think I do,’ Simon said half-jokingly, and Mia raised her brows.

The concern was clear in her voice. ‘You sound like your father when I first met him. You do need a break. Watch out or Angus will be nagging you to move here and set up practice.’

‘Haven’t completed the research I want to do. A few years yet.’

A vision of Simon with a wife and kids popped unexpectedly into Tara’s mind. Made it a bit of a shame she didn’t stay in places too long, then she realised where her thoughts were heading. That way lay disappointment. Didn’t she ever learn? She’d rather think about Maeve. ‘So has Maeve joined any parenting classes?’

Simon shook his head and his concern was visible. ‘Wouldn’t go to classes in Sydney.’

Tara shrugged. ‘I don’t think that’s too weird. She’s a midwife. She knows the mechanics. And sometimes women don’t want to think about labour until right at the end. Or be involved in the couples classes without a partner. I get that.’

She could feel Mia’s eyes on them and obviously she wanted to say something. Tara waited. Mia was very cool and worth listening to.

‘Why don’t you ask her if she’d like to be on your caseload, Tara? I think a younger midwife would help when she’s feeling a bit lost and lonely.’

Tara could feel her chest squeeze with the sudden shock of surprise. That was pretty big of Mia to trust a family member to her. Her eyes stung and she looked away. Nobody had ever treated her as she was treated here. Or trusted her. She just hoped she didn’t let them down. ‘You know I’d love to. But I guess it depends who she wants.’

Simon looked at Mia too. He felt the shock and turned to look at his stepmother. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that and saw Mia nod reassuringly. Someone else looking after Maeve, not Mia? He looked at the bolshie but sincere young woman beside him. Was she experienced enough? What if something went wrong?

Then saw the flare of empathy for his sister in Tara’s face and allowed the reluctant acceptance that Mia could be right. Maeve wanted to run the show. Wanted to listen to her body without interference, if he’d listened at all to the arguments they’d had over the last couple of weeks, and he had no doubt young Tara was holistic enough for his sister to be able to do that.

Normally he would be right there with a woman, cheering her on, but he was having serious personal issues doing that with the sister he had felt most protective of all his life. Not that he’d actually be there, of course. But he was darned sure he’d be outside the door, pacing.

So maybe Mia was right. It could be harder for Maeve to relax with the connection so strong between her brother and his stepmother.

He found the words out in the air in front of him before he realised. ‘We’ll see what she says.’

He reassured himself that if Mia didn’t have faith in Tara, she wouldn’t have suggested it. And despite the mixed feelings he was starting to have about this intriguing young woman he really did feel a natural confidence in her passion for her work.

He’d seen it before. How Lyrebird Lake could bring out the best in all of them. Maybe he had lost that since he’d been so immersed in the high-tech, high-risk arena of obstetrics he studied now.

He’d even seen it with his own father. From hotshot international evacuation medic to relaxed country GP.

Maeve and Tara did have a lot in common and would get on well, the dry voice in his head agreed—all the way to dropkicking past boyfriends!

No. It would be good. This was all going to turn out even better than he’d hoped.

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