The Midwife's Son

But would he?

Even if it meant talking about things he preferred buried deep inside his psyche?

Right at this moment he had no damned idea.

CHAPTER THREE

KEEPING HER EYES closed, Jess reached across the bed for Jackson and came up cold. What? She scrambled up and looked around. She was alone.

‘Jackson?’ she called.

Nothing. No cheeky reply. No deep chuckle. Silence except for the house creaking as the sun warmed up the day.

‘Great. Bloody wonderful, even. I hate it when the guy of the night before leaves without at least saying good bye.’ Her stomach tightened. Jackson had enjoyed their lovemaking as much as she had. She’d swear to it. ‘Maybe he didn’t want the whole bay knowing we’ve been doing the deed.’

Was that good or bad? Did she want the whole of Golden Bay discussing her sex life? Nope. Definitely not. The muscles in her stomach released their death grip.

Did she want to do it again? With Jackson? Oh, yes. Her stomach tightened again. Absolutely wanted that. Which was a very good reason not to. Already she felt the need to see him pulling at her, wanted his arms around her, to hear his sexy chuckle. And that was after one night. Blimey. Was she falling for her best friend’s brother? Even when she knew she shouldn’t? That was a sure-fire way to fall out with Sasha, especially once Jackson packed his bags and headed back to his job. But there was no helping those feelings of want and desire that seemed to sneak out of her skull when she wasn’t looking.

Throwing the sheet aside, she leapt out of bed. He might’ve left but, darn, she felt good this morning. Despite the uncertainty of today and, in fact, every other day of the coming months with Jackson in the bay, she felt great. Just went to show what a healthy dose of sex could do for her.

‘What’s that?’ A piece of paper lay on the floor by the bed. Picking it up, she read:

Hey, sleepyhead, thought I’d get away before the bay woke up. Thanks for a great night. See you at brunch. Hugs, Jackson.

Hugs, eh? That was good, wasn’t it? Seemed he wasn’t hiding from her if he’d mentioned the post-wedding brunch. What was the time? Eight-thirty. Yikes. She was supposed to be at the Wilsons’ by nine-thirty and she had to pick up Nicholas. Her boy, the light of her life. She might’ve had a fantastic night but she missed him.

The piping-hot shower softened those aching muscles that had had a rare workout during the night. Singing loudly—and badly—she lathered shampoo through her hair while memories of last night with Jackson ran like a nonstop film through her mind. Hugging herself, she screeched out the words to a favourite song.

The phone was ringing as she towelled herself. Knowing she had no babies due at the moment, she wondered who’d be calling. Sasha would be too busy with Grady, it being the first day of married bliss and all that.

‘Hello,’ she sang.

‘Is that Jessica Baxter? The midwife?’ a strained male voice asked hesitantly.

Her stomach dropped. ‘Yes, it is. Who’s this?’

‘You don’t know me, but my wife’s having a baby and I think something’s wrong. It’s too early. Can we come and see you? Like now?’

No. I’m busy. I’m going to have brunch with the most amazingly attractive, sexy-as-hell guy I’ve ever had the good luck to sleep with. Except, as of now, she wasn’t. She swallowed the disappointment roiling in her stomach. ‘Let’s start at the beginning. Yes, I am Jessica. You are?’

‘Sorry, I’m panicking a bit here. I’m Matthew Carter and my wife’s Lily. We’re up here for the weekend from Christchurch. Staying at Paton’s Rock.’ The more he talked the calmer he sounded. ‘She seems a bit uncomfortable this morning.’

‘How far along is your wife?’ Why had they come away from home and their midwife when this Lily was due to give birth?

He hesitated, then, ‘Nearly eight months. Everything’s been good until this morning, otherwise we wouldn’t have come away. But my cousin got married yesterday and we had to be here.’

‘You were at Sasha and Grady’s wedding?’ She didn’t remember seeing any obviously pregnant women, and as a midwife she usually noticed things like that.

‘No, Greg and Deb Smith’s.’

No one she knew. There were often multiple weddings in the bay in January. The golden beaches were a huge attraction for nuptials. ‘Right. Tell me what’s going on.’

‘Lily’s having pains in her stomach. Personally I think she ate too much rich food yesterday but she wants someone to check her out.’

‘That sounds wise. They could be false labour pains. Can you drive into Takaka and meet me at the maternity unit? It’s behind the medical centre. I’ll head there now.’ She went on to give exact directions before hanging up.

Immediately picking the phone up again, she called the mother of Nicholas’s friend and asked if it was all right for him to stay there a while longer. Then she phoned Sasha’s mother.

‘Virginia, I’m very sorry but I have to bail on brunch, or at least be very late. A pregnant woman from Christchurch is having problems.’

‘That’s fine, Jess. You can’t predict when those babies will make their appearance.’

Yeah, but this wasn’t one of hers. Then there was the fact it was coming early—if it was even coming at all. ‘Can you tell Sasha and Grady I’m sorry? I really wanted to be there.’ And can you let your son know too?

‘Sure can. What about Jackson?’

Ahh. She swallowed. ‘What about him?’

Virginia’s laughter filled her ear. So that’s where Jackson had got that deep chuckle. She’d never noticed Virginia’s laugh before. ‘Seems he had a bit of a walk home at daybreak. We shared a pot of tea when he got in. He doesn’t realise how little I sleep these days. It gave him a bit of a shock when he crept in the back door just like he used to as a teenager.’

So much for Jackson trying to stop the town knowing about their night of fun. But his mother wouldn’t be one for spreading that particular titbit of gossip. Or any other. She didn’t do gossip. And...Jessica drew a breath...she didn’t need to know what he’d got up to as a teen.

‘Tell him thanks.’ Oops. Wrong thing to blurt out to the man’s mother.

‘For what, Jess?’ That laughter was back in Virginia’s voice.

Too much information for Jackson’s mother. ‘For...’ she cast around for something innocuous to say, came up blank.

Virginia’s laughter grew louder. ‘I’ll tell him thanks. He can fill in the blanks. Good luck with the baby. Come round when you’re done. We’d love to see you.’

I’m never going to the Wilson house again. My face will light up like a Christmas-tree candle the moment I step through their door. Apparently Virginia had a way of getting things out of a person without appearing to be trying.

Hauling on some knee-length shorts and a sleeveless shirt, she gave her hair a quick brush and tied it in a ponytail. There wasn’t time to blow-dry it now and as she wasn’t about to see Jackson it didn’t really matter any more.

Pulling out of her driveway, she saw her neighbour, Mrs Harrop, waving at her from the front porch. They both lived on the outskirts of town in identical little houses built back in the 1950s. Mrs Harrop took care of the gardens for both of them while Jess made sure the other woman had proper meals every day by always cooking twice as much as she and Nicholas needed.

‘Morning, Mrs Harrop. Everything all right with you today?’

‘The sun came up, didn’t it? How was the wedding? Who was that man I saw leaving your place in the early hours?’ There was a twinkle in the seventy-year-old woman’s eyes.

Damn. Usually her neighbour was half-blind in full daylight. ‘Mrs Harrop...’ Jess couldn’t help herself. ‘You won’t mention anything to your friends, will you?’

‘Get away with you, girl. My lips are zipped.’

Now, why did she have to mention zips? Jess’s brain replayed the memory of Jackson undoing the zip of her dress last night. Oh, and then of her hand on his fly, pulling that zip down. Turning the radio onto full blast, she sang some more cringeworthy words and banged the steering-wheel in an approximation of the song’s beat, and drove to town.

Jess made it to the maternity unit fifteen minutes before the distressed couple arrived. She filled in the time making coffee and nipped next door to the store to buy a muffin for breakfast. Nothing like the big cook-up she could’ve been enjoying at the Wilson establishment. But way better for her waistline.