on their way.’ His voice was quiet, but commanding.
Jess gaped at him. Was he suggesting she should just abandon her husband? ‘We can’t leave him,’ she protested. ‘The poor man’s unconscious. He’s all alone.’
She began to tremble as she remembered how still and pale Alan had looked.
Watching her, Reece drew a sharp breath. Her eyes filled with tears and he had to turn away as he wrestled with this new dilemma. It would be too cruel to tell her bluntly that her husband was beyond help. Somehow, he had to keep her focused on her own needs.
‘Seems you’re about to have a baby,’ he said as gently as he could. ‘I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to have it in a dirty truck’s cabin.’
‘Well … no.’
‘I can give you a bed at the homestead. It’s not much of a choice, I know, but, under the circumstances, I’m sure it’s what your husband would want for you.’
Jess felt too confused and uncomfortable to argue. Now, sitting upright in the truck, she could feel her baby’s head pushing down.
She felt terrible about leaving Alan, but she guessed she didn’t really have a choice. Her priority now was their baby’s safety, and almost as soon as the truck started up another contraction began. She dragged in a deep breath as the pain cut harder, deeper, lower, and she began to pant, staring out into the dark, rainy night, trying frantically not to moan and to concentrate instead on her breathing and the skinny trunks of gum trees flashing past.
No one had warned her that the pain would get this bad.
When it finally eased, her rescuer asked, ‘Is this your first baby?’
Jess nodded. ‘’Fraid so. What about you? Has your wife been through this?’
‘I don’t have a wife,’ he said quietly.
‘Is there a woman at the homestead?’
‘Unfortunately, no.’
Somehow, she managed to suppress a groan of disappointment. She’d been hoping to find a woman who’d been through this. Someone who could, at the very least, reassure her.
‘By the way, my name’s Reece.’ He flashed a shy smile and for a moment his rather stern face looked incredibly appealing. ‘Reece Weston.’
‘Jess Cassidy. And I should have said—I’m so grateful to you.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m glad I found you.’
‘So am I, believe me.’ She wondered if she ever would have made it, stumbling down this long, rough track in the rain on her own.
‘Do you know if the baby’s a boy or a girl?’
She supposed Reece was trying to take her mind off Alan.
‘No,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t ask. I told the doctors I didn’t want to know. I wanted a surprise.’
The sad truth was, she hadn’t wanted Alan to know. He would have been so cocky and possessive if the baby was a boy, and at the time she’d still been undecided about whether she should stay with him.
And now … Oh, God, she felt another stab of guilt as she remembered how terribly pale and still Alan had been.
Was there a chance she’d panicked and overreacted? Maybe he was going to be OK. She was feeling so dazed, so sideswiped by the sudden onset of pain coming right on top of the accident.
Ahead of her now, through the rain, she could see a homestead at last. It was a typically North Queensland, timber dwelling, and ever so welcoming tonight with the golden glow of lights on the veranda. As they drew up at the front steps she saw two striped canvas squatter’s chairs and a row of pegs holding battered Akubras and coats.
A stooped, elderly man appeared, squinting out at them like a short-sighted, bow-legged gnome.
In a blink, Reece was out of the truck and at Jess’s door.
‘I’m OK, thanks. Really, you don’t have to lift me down.’
Once again he ignored her. ‘Don’t want you falling. I’ve got you.’ He lifted her easily, and set her down lightly.
‘Who you got there, son?’
‘There’s been an accident,’ Reece told the old man. ‘And this young lady needs to lie down. I’m going to put her in my room.’
‘One of your fancy tarts, is she?’
Reece ignored this. ‘Can you bring us some towels, Dad?’ he asked instead.
With a strong arm around Jess, he steered her up a short flight of steps, and across the wooden veranda boards, not to the main front doorway, but to white-framed French doors. The rain hammered on the tin roof as Reece opened the doors and flicked on a light to reveal a large bed with an old-fashioned, blue chenille spread.
‘Lean against the bedpost if you need to,’ he said. ‘I’ll get rid of this bedspread.’
‘You don’t—’ Jess’s words were cut off as yet another contraction arrived.
Surely they weren’t supposed to be so close together? She had no choice but to hang on to the bedpost and cope as best she could.
By the time the pain had eased, Reece had lit bedside lamps and turned the main light off, as well as pulling back the bedcovers. Now he was at her side, ready to help her out of the coat, just as his father arrived in the doorway, bearing towels.
The old man stared at her belly.
‘This is Jess Cassidy, Dad.’
‘Did you get her into trouble?’
Jess admired Reece’s self-restraint as he simply shook his head and said, ‘I told you. There was an accident out on the main road.’
‘Looks like she’s about to drop.’
‘Yes, Jess is in labour,’ Reece said firmly as he took the towels. ‘It would be helpful if you could fetch the Flying Doctors’ medical chest. It’s at the back of the pantry.’
The old man seemed reluctant to leave, but his son made a shooing gesture and, finally, he hobbled away.
Reece turned to Jess. ‘You need to get out of these wet clothes.’
She was wearing a loose top over maternity trousers and, yes, they were wet, but the rest of her clothes were in a suitcase in the back of the car. ‘I don’t have anything else to change into.’
‘You can wear one of my shirts.’ Already he was opening a wardrobe, slipping a pale blue cotton shirt from a hanger. It looked almost big enough to serve as a nightgown.
His dark eyes were warm as he held it out to her. ‘Can you manage?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ She would have to manage. She certainly
