Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife. Fiona McArthur
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‘They don’t know. His father caught them before they could get away but they put a bag over Paulo’s head and knocked him out.’
Tammy’s heart thumped under her ribs and she shivered at the thought of someone attempting to steal a child. Any child. Her child.
Then she remembered how she’d been less than diplomatic about Leon’s reluctance with the children’s game and she winced. Every instinct urged her to turn the car around and apologise to Leon for her ill judgement. Poor Paulo, poor Leon. And the kidnappers had struck a child. ‘Paulo told you this?’
Jack was losing interest. ‘No, Grace did. Paulo told her.’
Good grief. No wonder Leon hadn’t wanted him to play spotlight. It was amazing he’d let his son out of his sight at all. She glanced at Jack. ‘If that’s true, even you should understand why he was scared in spotlight.’
‘I guess.’ He looked at his mother. ‘You’d find me, wouldn’t you, Mum?’
She stretched her arm across and ruffled his hair with her fingers. The strands were fine and fragile beneath the skin of her fingertips and the sheer fragment of the concept of losing him tightened a ball of fear in her chest. ‘I wouldn’t rest until I did.’
Jack snuggled down in his seat. ‘I thought so,’ he said, and yawned loudly.
Tammy was glad to get to work the next morning. The night had been a sheet-crunching wrestle for peace that she’d only snatched moments of and this morning a rush to get a tired and cross Jack through the fence to Misty’s house.
Leon Bonmarito had a lot to answer for. She’d walked straight into a birth and thankfully hadn’t given the man a thought for the past three hours.
Tammy wrapped the squirming newborn infant in a fluffy white towel and tucked him under her arm like a football. Little dark eyes blinked up at her out of the swathe and one starfish hand escaped to wave at her. She tucked the tiny fingers in again and ran the water over his head as she brushed the matted curls clean. She grinned at his mother. ‘I haven’t seen such thick hair for a long time.’
Jennifer Ross watched with adoration as the little face squinted and frowned at the sensation in his scalp. ‘He’s gorgeous.’ She sighed and rubbed her stomach and her son turned his head in her direction.
‘Thanks for rinsing his hair for me, Tammy. I’m just not up to it.’ Even in the dimly lit corner of the room where the sink nestled Tammy could see him try to focus on the familiar sound of his mother’s voice.
‘We’ll just use water today. We’ll bath Felix properly tomorrow so we don’t overload his poor nose with baby bath perfume.’ Tammy combed a little curl onto his forehead and smiled. ‘He needs to feel secure, with your skin and his smelling the same as he remembers from inside you. It all helps with establishing breastfeeding. Like the way you waited for him to find the breast and didn’t push him on for that first feed.’
‘I can’t believe he moved there himself.’ Jen’s face was soft with wonder.
‘He’ll do it again too. That’s why it’s better not to wash your own hair with shampoo the first twenty-four hours. A strong scent like shampoo has can confuse and even upset his nose during that time.’
‘I’ll let Ken’s mum know when I ring her. She likes a heavy perfume but she’s a sweetie. She’ll give it a miss if I ask.’ Jen reached out and touched his little hand that had escaped again. ‘I remember when you told my sister only Mum and Dad should snuggle babies for the first twenty-four hours. She swears her second baby is much more settled.’
‘Best practice. But sometimes it’s hard to manage when everyone wants a hold.’
Jen rubbed her stomach again. ‘Better to do it right. If the after pains get much worse I might not have a third one,’ Jen said with a rueful smile.
‘Have a lie-down. You’ve had a big day and there’s a warm wheat pack on your bed. I’ll bring Felix in when I’ve dressed him and check your tummy.’ She cast her eye over the mum and decided she looked okay. ‘Let me know if you start to bleed more heavily.’
‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’ Jen smiled and turned gingerly with her hand holding her stomach. ‘I’m looking forward to that wheat pack. Ken’s so disappointed he wasn’t home for the birth. And I have to ring his mother and sister as well.’
‘Since when do babies wait for truck-driving daddies? Ken will just be glad you’re both well. Off you go. I’ll be in soon.’ She narrowed her gaze as the other woman hobbled out. Tammy wished Ken could have made it too. She wanted every mother’s birth to be perfect for them but sometimes babies just didn’t wait.
When Ben brought Leon in to see the unit Tammy had just towelled Felix’s hair dry. She was laughing down at him as she tried to capture the wriggling limbs and they’d moved to the sunny side of the room as she began to dress him. The early-afternoon sunlight dusted her dark hair with shafts of dancing light and her skin glowed.
For Leon, suddenly the day was brighter and even more interesting, although his tour of the facilities had captured his attention until now. Strangely all thoughts of bed numbers, ward structure and layout seemed lower in his priorities than watching the expressions cross this woman’s face. And brought back the delightful memory of a kiss that had haunted him long into the night in his lonely bed.
‘Hi, there, Tam,’ Ben said as he crossed the room. Tammy looked up at her father and smiled. Then she looked at Leon and the smile fell away. He watched it fall and inexplicably the room dimmed.
‘Hi, Dad. Leon.’ She looked at her father. Or perhaps she was avoiding looking at him, Leon surmised, and began another mind waltz of piqued interest that this woman seemed to kick off in him. ‘What are you men up to?’
‘I’m showing Leon the facilities. His board’s been thinking of adding maternity wards to their children’s hospitals and I thought you might like to hint him towards a more woman-friendly concept.’
Leon watched the ignition of sharper concentration and the flare of captured interest. She couldn’t hide the blue intensity in her eyes and silently he thanked Ben for knowing his daughter so well. So, Leon mulled to himself, he’d suddenly become a much more interesting person?
‘Really?’ She tossed it over her shoulder, as if only a little involved, but she couldn’t fool him—he was learning to read her like a conspiracy plot in a movie, one fragmented clue at a time.
She dressed the baby with an absentminded deftness that reassured the infant so much he lay compliant under her hands. Mentally Leon nodded with approval. To handle infants a rapport was essential and he was pleased she had the knack, though it was ridiculous that such a thing should matter to him.
When the newborn was fully clothed she nestled him across her breasts and Leon had a sudden unbidden picture of her with her own child, a Madonnalike expression on her face, and a soft smile that quickened his heart. More foolishness and he shook his head at the distraction the fleeting vision had caused.
Tammy tilted her