The Cattleman's Special Delivery

Reece sighed. ‘Did you find the medical chest?’

His dad looked churlish. ‘Forgot.’

‘Can you get it now?’ Reece gave another despairing sigh. This was a new problem that had arrived just lately—these signs that his father’s short-term memory was deteriorating, along with his temper. But tonight he didn’t have time to worry about it. ‘I’m going to make some calls.’

His dad’s face broke into a rare grin. ‘At least I remembered to put the kettle on. You’ll need boiling water, won’t you?’

When Reece came back into the room with a medical chest, extra towels and a glass of water, Jess was fighting another urge to push, blowing frantically as she’d been taught in antenatal classes.

She heard the clink of the glass as Reece set it down on a bedside table.

‘How are you doing?’ he asked as the contraction finally loosened its grip.

‘Awful,’ she grunted. ‘I’ll tell you one thing. I’m never, ever having sex again.’

She saw him swallow a smile and she sent him a hefty scowl. It was all very well for guys. They got it easy—a night of fun and, nine months later, someone else endured giving birth to their child.

Perhaps it was just as well Alan wasn’t here right now. She’d have given him a piece of her mind.

Oh, dear Lord, the poor man. Jess was instantly ashamed. How could she be angry with her husband when he might be seriously hurt, or even—?

No, she wouldn’t allow herself to think the worst, but tears stung her eyes. Tears for Alan. Tears of self-pity.

Hoping Reece hadn’t noticed them, she dashed at her face with the sleeve of the shirt he’d given her.

‘Would you like your drink?’

She shook her head. She was past needing a drink. What she needed now was a miracle. She needed to be magically whisked away from this isolated, outback homestead. She knew Reece was doing his best and she was grateful. Truly. But how could a lonely bachelor cattleman deliver her baby? She wanted to be safely in Cairns with a midwife and a ward full of nurses … doctors on standby …

‘Did you get through to the Flying Doctor?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is he on his way?’

Sympathy shone in Reece’s dark eyes. ‘With all this rain, they can’t risk trying to land on our boggy airstrip.’

A surge of hot panic ripped through her now. ‘What does that mean? I’ll have to wait for an ambulance?’

He dropped his gaze and looked uncomfortable.

‘Tell me there’s an ambulance on its way,’ Jess pleaded.

‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘A policeman is coming from Gidgee Springs and the ambulance from Dirranbilla.’

She sensed there was more bad news. ‘But … what are you not telling me?’

Reece grimaced. ‘The creeks are coming up fast.’

‘So they might not make it?’

‘It’s … possible …’

This time, when Jess felt her face crumple, she didn’t even try to be brave. What was the point? Everything was stacked against her. First a terrible accident, then her labour starting in the middle of nowhere. And now, no chance of help.

She and her baby were going to die.

All alone out here.

‘Hey, Jess.’

She felt Reece’s hand on her arm.

‘It’s OK,’ he soothed. ‘You’re going to be OK.’

‘I’m not,’ she wailed. ‘I don’t know how to do this and neither do you.’

‘I know how to deliver calves.’ He gave a shrugging smile. ‘And there’s no need to panic. I’ve talked to a telehealth on-call doctor and he’s told me what to do. He’s on standby to talk me through step by step if I need help.’

‘Oh, terrific. So I can have my baby by remote control and a tele—’

Her words were cut off as the urge to push crashed back with a vengeance. She screwed up her face and clenched her teeth to stop herself from screaming. She so-o-o wanted to push, but she couldn’t forget the dire warnings from the antenatal teacher about not pushing too soon. Oh, God, how could she not push?

It was too hard to hold back.

‘Can you see the baby’s head?’ she groaned.

‘Would you like me to check?’

Exhausted already, Jess nodded, all pretence at modesty gone. If Reece could see the head she wouldn’t keep fighting. She’d give in to the urge to push.

She watched his face as he cautiously lifted the shirt, saw his dark eyes widen and his Adam’s apple ripple in his throat.

‘What?’ she demanded. ‘What’s happening down there?’

‘Your baby has dark hair.’

Really?

In spite of everything, Jess felt her mouth tilt in a tremulous smile. The baby was a real little person. It had dark hair. She felt an unexpected spurt of excitement.

She looked at Reece, surprised by the emotion shimmering behind his smile. The poor man hadn’t asked to be thrown into this situation, and he was doing his best. She realised he’d spread a waterproof on the bed and he’d set up a tray with items from the medicine chest. He was a stranger, doing everything he could for her and for her baby.

She felt a rush of gratitude. ‘Thanks for being here, Reece. If the baby’s a boy I’ll name him after you. And I’ll—’

Once again, she was overtaken by an incredible force and every cell in her body urged her to give in to it. She was dimly aware that Reece was spreading more towels on the bed and taking something out of the medical chest. She heard the snap of sterile gloves.

There was nothing she could do but push.

And push.

And pu-u-u-sh.

‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ Reece coaxed. ‘The baby’s shoulders are almost there now. Everything’s happening just the way it’s supposed to. Good girl. You’re fabulous. That’s it. Another push.’

‘I can’t.’

Exhausted, Jess sank back against the pillows. She couldn’t push again. She didn’t have the strength.

‘Honestly, your baby’s almost here,’ Reece said again. ‘Don’t give up now, Jess. I can see its face. It’s a real little cutie.’

‘That’s nice,’ she said wearily.

But next moment, she was gripping her knees and pushing again, assisted, thank heavens, by another contraction.

‘That’s it, Jess. Here it comes. Good girl!’

Face screwed tight with the effort of another huge push, Jess felt the baby slip from her and she heard Reece’s shout of triumph.

She fell back, panting, hardly daring to believe it was over so soon. Two breaths later, she asked, ‘Boy or girl?’

‘Well … I’m not sure about calling her Reece.’

‘A girl?’

He was grinning from ear to ear. ‘A perfectly beautiful baby girl.’

A girl. In the sudden lull, Jess felt exhausted and strangely devoid of emotion. Secretly, she’d hoped for a girl, but she’d been so sure she was having a boy. It took a moment or two to adjust.

She closed her eyes, suddenly weary and drifting towards sleep.

‘Waaaa!’

At that tiny, lusty yell, Jess’s eyes whipped open and her heart gave a leap of joy, her exhaustion vanished in a blink. She struggled to sit. ‘How is she? Is she all right?’

‘She has all her fingers and toes. I’m no doctor, but she looks perfect to me.’

Jess wanted to see her, but before she could dig her elbows into the mattress and hoist herself upright Reece was at her side.

‘Here,’ he said gently.

She felt a warm weight on her chest and looked down. And discovered a miracle. Her baby daughter. Red and perfect, with a scrunched-up face. ‘Hey, little girl.’

Her baby’s skin was still shiny and wet, but she was so cute. She had tiny little fingers and toes with the sweetest little transparent nails. And she had the most exquisite, perfect, tiny ears. And her nose was tiny and perfect too, and so was her mouth. And her eyes. And her hair.

‘Reece, she’s utterly gorgeous.’

Looking up, she saw the silver sheen of tears in his eyes. He gave her an embarrassed, lopsided smile. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Congratulations to you too. You were brilliant.’ Jess felt suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. Everything had happened so quickly and, if it hadn’t been for Reece, her baby might have been born on the edge of a dirt track out in the rain.

Now, this simple room, miles from anywhere, felt like the most wonderfully safe and comforting haven in the world.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly.

Somehow, just saying ‘thank you’ felt totally inadequate, but she was scared that she might start to cry if she tried to express how she really felt.

‘Let’s get this around her to keep her warm.’ Businesslike again, Reece tucked a mauve crocheted blanket around the baby’s tiny body. ‘Do you want to see if she’s hungry?’

‘I’ll try, I guess.’

‘Do you know what to do?’

‘I think so.’

With his work finally done, Reece stepped out onto the veranda, and realised he was shaking. He’d never held a baby before, not even when he was a godfather attending his nephew’s fancy christening in a Sydney cathedral. Now, tonight, he’d assisted in a total stranger’s birth. The little creature had slipped from her mother into the world.

Into his hands.

He’d looked down into her little face, all red and wrinkled. He’d watched her open her eyes for the very first time, and he’d seen the tiny quivering tremble of her lip, a heartbeat before she opened her mouth to give her first cry.

And he’d lost his heart.

Completely.

Now, as he stood at the veranda railing, trying to get a grip on his galloping emotions, he told himself to man up. He felt as if his life had changed in some significant way, but the reality was, it hadn’t changed at all.

In an hour or two, the police or the ambulance would probably get through. If not tonight, tomorrow, or the next day … Then, this mother and baby would be gone. Out of his life. He’d be back to living alone with his ageing father as he had for almost thirty years. Back to carrying out his duty on this vast, back-breaking cattle property. Back to worrying about his father’s health. Back to visiting lonely spinsters if he wanted female company.

‘What’s happening in there?’

Reece turned as his father appeared at his elbow and cocked his head to the French doors, now discreetly shut with the curtains drawn.

‘Jess had a baby girl.’ Reece’s voice was choked as he said this.

‘Crikey. She doesn’t muck around, does she? Is she going to stay?’

‘Of course not. She’ll want to get back to the coast as fast as she can.’

‘Yeah. They never want to stay.’ His dad released an unexpectedly heavy sigh. After a bit, he brightened. ‘Can I see her?’

‘She needs a little time alone. She’s feeding the baby. It’s late, Dad. Why don’t you go to bed?’

‘What about the Flying Doc?’

‘I’m going to ring them again now.’ Reece had followed the doctor’s instructions faithfully, using sterile gloves and scissors from the specially supplied medical chest, and the placenta had come away easily—thank God—but he wanted to double-check that he hadn’t overlooked anything.

‘You want to put lights out on the landing strip?’ his father asked. ‘I’ll get the tins from the shed.’

Reece blinked. This was the first cooperative gesture his dad had made in ages. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make use of it. He shook his head. ‘It’s too wet for the plane to land.’ He smiled. ‘But I’m sure we could all use a cup of tea.’

Jess was too stirred to sleep. Part of her mind was constantly worrying about Alan, while the rest of her thoughts were leaping with excitement. And she couldn’t close her eyes because she didn’t want to stop gazing in awe at the tiny sleeping beauty beside her. Reece had helped her to bath the baby. She’d been nervous of the tiny body, as slippery as a frog, but he’d been calm and gentle and sure.

Jess had dried her then, and wrapped her in strips of sheeting, because they had no nappies, while Reece fashioned a makeshift cot by padding a drawer with blankets and setting it on two chairs beside Jess’s bed.

So now the baby was right there, at eye level and touching close, which was perfect. And Jess had chosen her name—Rosie Millicent Cassidy.

‘Millicent after my grandmother. And Rosie because it’s a bit like Reece,’ she’d announced as she’d sat, propped by a bank of pillows and sipping hot, sweet tea.

A dark red stain crept up Reece’s neck. ‘You know, you don’t have to name her after me.’

‘I don’t feel obliged, but you did save us from the worst possible nightmare. And anyway, Rosie is a pretty name.’

Reece looked down at the sleeping baby. ‘Actually, she looks a bit like a half-opened rose.’

Jess grinned. ‘That’s a very poetic comment. Not quite what I expected from a cattleman. But it’s true. She’s pink and a little bit crumpled still, and sort of folded like rose petals.’

He smiled and shook his head at her and their gazes linked for a shade too long. He had the loveliest dark chocolate eyes, and Jess thought, momentarily, If only … And then she was ashamed of herself.

Perhaps Reece noticed. He moved to the door. ‘I’ll say goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, and thanks again. For everything.’

‘If you need me, call. I won’t be far away and I’m a light sleeper.’

Jess felt strangely alone after he’d left. Outside the rain had slowed to a fine, dripping drizzle. She finished her tea, set the mug aside and settled down in the bed. Her body was exhausted. She really should try to get some sleep before Rosie woke again.

She closed her eyes. The house was very quiet and outside there was just a background whisper of rain. She hoped Alan was safely in an ambulance, speeding to a hospital. She had no idea where the nearest hospital might be. She wondered if he would need to be airlifted to the coast … and she wondered when she would be able to tell him about Rosie …

Perhaps she drifted off to sleep, but she roused quickly when she heard the swish of tyres in puddles, and then a vehicle pulling up outside. Footsteps and voices. Men speaking quietly and at some length.

Jess wondered if it was the police, or an ambulance. Had they come for her? She sat up and switched on a bedside lamp and, of course, she checked on Rosie, pressing her hand gently to the baby’s back to make sure she was still warm and breathing. Rosie wriggled and made a snuffling protest.

‘Sorry,’ Jess whispered. ‘Didn’t mean to disturb you.’

Footsteps approached from down the hallway. A soft tap sounded on her door.

‘Come in,’ she called.

Reece appeared, wearing an unbuttoned shirt that hung loose over his jeans, giving a hint of his broad chest with a smattering of dark hair, and a finely tapered waist. ‘Sergeant Bryant is here, Jess. He apologises for the late hour, but he’d like to speak to you.’

She was suddenly scared and she felt a little sick as the policeman stepped into the room. He didn’t look threatening, however. He was middle-aged, balding and thickset and his expression was one of almost fatherly concern.

‘Good evening, Mrs Cassidy.’

‘Hello, Sergeant.’

He nodded towards the cot and smiled. ‘I believe congratulations are in order.’

‘Thank you.’

He stepped closer. ‘She’s a little sweetie, isn’t she? It’s been a big night for you.’

‘It has rather.’ Jess swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. ‘Have—have you seen my husband?’

Sergeant Bryant dropped his gaze and cleared his throat and in that moment Jess knew, even before he spoke.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.

‘He’s d-dead?’

‘I’m afraid he is.’

At some primitive level, she had probably known all along, but until now she’d never allowed herself to think it was actually possible. But faced with the horrible truth, Jess felt strangely numb. She’d run the full gamut of her emotions tonight and it was almost as if there was nothing left to feel right at this moment …

She couldn’t even squeeze out a tear, but she knew the grief would come … later …

‘At some stage I’ll need to talk to you about the accident,’ the sergeant said. ‘But I won’t bother you tonight.’

She nodded.

‘The rain’s almost stopped, so I’m hoping that the ambulance will be able to get through in another few hours,’ he went on. ‘It will bring you back to Dirranbilla. You’ll be able to see a doctor. And then we can talk.’

He looked into the cot again and his face creased in a soft smile and then he left her.

Jess lay dazed, unable to focus on anything except the news that in another few hours … she would be leaving. She would be starting a new life.

How strange … For a short space of time this simply furnished room had been a little sanctuary for her and for Rosie … a safe haven from the wild night … and from the real world where all her savings were lost and accidents happened and husbands died …

Reece had been so kind. He’d delivered Rosie so beautifully. But in another few hours …

She would be gone … and the cruel irony was, she would be a single mum, after all.

CHAPTER THREE

2/56 Mary Street,

Edmonton, Cairns

3rd March

Dear Reece,

Once again, thank you, although I know thanks aren’t enough. Rosie and I owe you our lives. I will write again properly when I have more time, but I wanted you to know that Alan’s funeral was yesterday and I’m managing OK.

I thought you might like this photo of Rosie.

She’s growing already, isn’t she?

Warmest wishes and masses of gratitude,

Jess.

2/56 Mary Street,

Edmonton, Cairns

25th April

Dear Reece,

Thank you so much for the pink teddy bear and the little sleep suit dotted with roses. They are so cute—and such a kind thought. I cried when they arrived. I should be sending you gifts. I owe you so much. One day, I promise I’ll repay you.

At least I can tell you that Rosie is thriving. She’s filling out nicely and she doesn’t wake too often, although she sometimes takes a bit of settling, especially in the evenings. Still, I can’t complain.

She’s started smiling. You’ve no idea how cute her smiles are. Once she starts, she just keeps on smiling as if she thinks the whole world is hilarious.

Thanks again and warmest wishes,

Jess

4a/89 Potts Street,

Redlynch, Cairns

16th June

Dear Reece,

Another big thank you from Rosie and me. What a lovely surprise to open your parcel and to find your note and the gorgeous board books. Rosie loves picture books and these are perfect.

I showed her the cows and the pigs and the turkeys and told her all about your farm—not that I saw much. She squealed and crowed and bashed at the pages with her fat little fingers, which is her way of showing how much she loves something.

You’re probably sick of seeing photos of her, but here’s one more. You can see she’s quite roly-poly now. Please ignore how I look. I was a bit tired that day and I hadn’t washed my hair, but then, you’ve seen me at my worst, haven’t you?

Reece, I hope all is well with you. You didn’t actually say much in your concise and slightly cryptic note. Mind you, that’s not a criticism.

For ever in your debt,

Jess

REECE opened the door to his father’s room—just a crack—and made sure the old man was sleeping peacefully. Satisfied, he went back to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge and snapped its lid. Tipping his head, he took a draught, letting the icy lager slide down his throat.

He pushed the flyscreen door and went through to the veranda, propped his elbows on the railing and stared out at the paddocks that stretched long and flat to the distant line of trees. He thought again about Jess.

She made out that she was fine in her letters, but something wasn’t right—he was sure of it. To begin with, she had no computer or phone for sending emails, and now she’d changed her street address. On the surface, that was probably no big deal—although a single mum moving house with a young baby couldn’t be a picnic—but it was the photo that really bothered him.

He took it again from his shirt pocket and stepped into a circle of light to examine it carefully. The baby Rosie was as roly-poly and cute as Jess claimed. Reece found himself smiling as he recognised the same features he’d first witnessed on the night she was born, now filling out.

But he was shocked by the change in the young mother. Jess was so thin, with dark shadows under her eyes, and no sparkle to her smile. She’d claimed she was just tired, but to him she looked ill, or worried. Or both.

You’ve seen me at my worst.

Not so, Reece thought, remembering her flushed cheeks and bright eyes as she greeted her baby for the first time.

Admittedly, becoming a widow and a mother on the very same night would be a terrible strain for any woman, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Jess Cassidy was carrying an extra burden.

On top of his worries about his father, it was enough to keep him awake long into the night.

At the first lull in the café’s morning chaos, Jess gave in to her fear. Ducking out of her boss’s line of sight, behind the big commercial refrigerator in the back kitchen, she rang the day-care centre.

‘Alana, it’s Jess Cassidy. I’m just ringing to check if Rosie is still OK?’

‘She seems fine,’ the young attendant assured her.

‘Are you sure there’s no sign of a temperature?’ Rosie had been fretful all night and Jess was terrified she was getting sick.

‘No, Jess. I knew you were worried so I’ve kept an especially close eye on her. She’s had a nice nap and she woke up quite happy.’

‘Well, that’s good to hear. She was so upset last night. All night.’

‘Perhaps she’s teething. I noticed she’s been chewing on her fists.’

‘That’s probably it. I guess it’s about time.’

‘Jess!’ roared a male voice. ‘What the hell are you up to?’

Jess spun around to find Joel Fink, her boss, glaring at her. Last time she’d looked, he’d been at the far end of the café busily chatting up his favourite female customer. ‘I—I had to make a quick phone call.’

‘Not on my time and not on my phone.’

‘It wasn’t a social call,’ Jess told him coldly, refusing to be cowed. ‘I needed to ring the day-care centre.’

‘My customers’ needs come first. And they need you to stop chatting and to feed them.’ Snatching the phone from her, he slapped an order onto the bench. ‘Two serves of strawberry pancakes. Cream, no ice cream. Get cracking.’

Lips tightly compressed, Jess got to work. Pancakes. Again. She was heartily sick of cooking breakfasts and lunches. As a fully qualified chef, she found it a breeze to produce light fluffy pancakes, or perfectly scrambled eggs and crisply fried bacon. But after almost six months of this she was bored. Just the same, this part-time job, working four days a week from six-thirty till two, was keeping a roof over her head and it was keeping Rosie fed. With Cairns’s growing unemployment problems, she knew she’d been lucky to get the work and she should be grateful.

It would help if her boss wasn’t such a cranky tight-fist. Privately, Jess called him The Cell Warder—even the menus he chose were as unimaginative as prison food. But at least this café was in walking distance of her flat, and working on Cairns’s seafront gave her occasional glimpses of palm trees and sparkling water. More importantly, the daytime working hours left her with afternoons and evenings free.

She needed to be with Rosie in the evenings. It was horrendously expensive having to put her into day-care for four days a week, but she couldn’t bear to hand her over to strangers at night.

Flipping pancakes, she promised herself she’d go to extra trouble with her own dinner tonight.

Reece was frowning as he knocked on the door of flat No 4a. The frown was partly because he was unexpectedly nervous about seeing Jess again, but also because he didn’t like the idea of her living in this shabby, almost squalid building with peeling paint and rusted down-pipes and rubbish bins littering the footpath.