Fiona McArthur - The Pregnant Midwife

He charged her down with sand flying and the other contestants left far behind. The cheers from the hospital crowd were a distant buzz in his ears.

‘Come on,’ he growled, and the camel flicked its ears as if to tell him to go to hell. The ground was a blur below him but he could see nothing but the red hair in front which was drawing closer. Inch by inch he gained on her until he passed her camel’s tail and then its bony rump and finally he was level with Kirsten’s shoulder.

She laughed at him, tucked in her chin and slapped her camel on the rump with her tiny crop, and pulled away for a moment. But her camel was tiring, finally, and Hunter edged back level so that right at the end they crossed the finish line together.

Both camels slowed to a trot and then finally stopped, their hairy sides heaving and breath snorting from their huge nostrils. ‘Well ridden, Sister Wilson,’ Hunter had to concede, as they pulled up.

‘Well ridden yourself, Dr Morgan.’ She laughed back at him, barely breathless. Then she slid lightly down the great height from her camel without waiting for the boy who was running towards her. Kirsten moved to the camel’s face, stroked the giant’s neck and whispered something in its ear. For a horrible moment there, Hunter thought she was going to kiss the disgusting beast.

His own camel turned and nipped at his leg as if to say, I’ve given you all I’ve got—now get off!

He tapped behind its knobbly knee with his crop and the camel knelt down to allow him to slide off.

The other riders began to dismount around them and he shook hands with the contestants. Hunter drew a deep breath and smiled. He felt terrific.

The flags fluttered in the morning air and the colours of the barrackers suddenly seemed brighter than he’d noticed earlier. It really was the most beautiful day and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed something mundane like the weather. His eyes were drawn to Kirsten, surrounded by her fellow nurses, and he forgot the weather to appreciate the woman.

Later, on the winner’s dais, when Kirsten stood beside him to share the trophy, Hunter frowned down the calls of their fellow medical staff to kiss her. Unexpectedly, she stretched up and kissed his cheek before he realised what she was doing.

Kirsten’s hair smelled of some herbal shampoo and a whiff of camel, and the feather-light feel of her lips against his cheek was more delightful than he was prepared for. His hand lifted of its own accord and caught her chin as she started to turn away, and he tilted her face back towards him. When he swooped to steal his own kiss, he wasn’t sure who was the most surprised—him or her.

Hunter hadn’t realised how much he’d wanted to do this. She felt right in his arms, as if she belonged there. It had been so long since he’d held any woman and now he knew why. He’d been waiting for Kirsten.

The feel of her lips against his was magic and when he released her, he could see the surprised recognition of something special mirrored in her beautiful green eyes. Then she was swept away by an admiring crowd of mostly male hospital staff. This time he followed.

And so it had started—eight weeks of magic. Silly, inconsequential conversations about stars and myths and unlikely scenarios that made him laugh in the cool of the evening after their shifts. Rendezvous at breakfast, eating fruit and rolls out under a tree in the courtyard while she fed the birds, hilarious trips into the bazaars where she would haggle fiercely with wizened street vendors as he watched in almost embarrassed awe until she’d won her bargain. Gradually they came to spend most of their off duty time together.

At work, they concentrated on their jobs and she remained Sister Wilson, Nursing Unit Manager of Neonatal Intensive Care, and he Dr Morgan, Paediatrician, because that was how Hunter wanted it.

He was terrified to rush or be sidetracked by the fierce ache to possess her, a trap that had snared him into foolishness and disaster in his first marriage. The simmering sexual tension between them only added to the intoxication of Kirsten. Hunter finally began to trust again.

Until that morning when his world shattered and he saw Kirsten in the arms of Jack Cosgrove, the senior consultant—and he realised that the woman he loved was just like his ex-wife. The darkness surrounded him again and he couldn’t believe he’d been such a fool. But he wouldn’t be one again.

Sydney—late September

MIRA! Kirsten Wilson stood outside the familiar three-storey headquarters of Mobile Infant Retrieval Australia and sighed with contentment at the sign. It was a relief to be back, both at MIRA and in Sydney.

Six years ago she’d watched the stabilisation and retrieval of a premature infant from Gladstone, her home town in northern New South Wales, and Kirsten had known MIRA was where she wanted to be. Before her stint in Dubai, she’d spent a year here at MIRA headquarters learning the ropes. It would be great to be back in the team.

Kirsten had moved her focus from the birthing suites favoured by her two older sisters, who still lived and worked in the tiny hospital at Gladstone, to the more specialised medical area of neonatal intensive care. But she would always share the Wilson family love for birth and holistic midwifery.

Kirsten adored tiny babies and revelled in the methodology of protocols in an emergency, which was why she’d gained as much experience as possible before her return to MIRA. Eagerly Kirsten swung open the door and stepped confidently into the foyer.

The receptionist jumped up to welcome her and Kirsten felt instantly at home. It was going to be a wonderful day.

‘Hi, Maggie.’ Kirsten couldn’t contain her grin. Maggie and Jim Rumble were childless and ran MIRA headquarters and the dynamic staff like the parents of a large family. Their unobtrusive guidance worked well in the often highly stressful situations.

Maggie, thinner and aged a little since last Kirsten had seen her, bustled out from behind the desk and hugged the much taller flight sister. ‘Kirsten. It’s wonderful to see you. Welcome back. I’ll take you through because I want to watch Jim’s face when he greets you.’

She pulled Kirsten to walk beside her, effervescent with excitement. ‘So when did you get back to Australia?’

Kirsten looked down at Maggie and slipped in a quick hug of her own. ‘I’ve only been back in Australia about two months. My older sister—you know Bella, she visited me here a few times—married one of the locums in Gladstone. I filled in on the wards up there while she was on her honeymoon.’ Her face softened. ‘And I’ve been learning to be an auntie to my eldest sister Abbey’s baby.’

She refocussed on the familiar corridors with approval. ‘Now I’m back in Sydney for a while and I’m so glad there was a vacancy here.’

‘There would always be a place for you here, you know that. For as long as your feet can stay in one place, that is.’ Maggie winked up at her. ‘Did you meet our current paediatrician, Dr Morgan, over in Dubai? He’s only worked here for a couple of months.’

Kirsten’s fingers tightened on her shoulder-bag strap and she forced them to relax their death grip. Not Hunter Morgan? Of all people! She kept her face expressionless but it wasn’t easy. She swallowed to moisten the sudden dryness in her throat. ‘It’s a big place, but his name does ring a bell.’

Kirsten tried to contain the familiar sting of pain and disappointment that came when she thought of Hunter, but it washed over her like a shore-dumping wave at Manly Beach and the force of it left her so cold she shivered.

From an oasis of sharing and caring and joy in her relationship with Hunter, something she’d never planned on, she’d been evicted from his life with a shattering suddenness that had left her reeling in an emotional desert more barren than any sand outside the hospital compound. Hug a married man in sympathy a couple of times and lectures on morality was where she landed! She’d tried to make him see how ridiculous his accusations were but he’d doggedly avoided her. Then anger had come to her rescue and at least straightened her spine. Piously, he’d even warned her of the penalties of adultery in Arab countries before he’d left. She gritted her teeth at the memory.