Misty glanced at her watch. Four hours. It would be dark by the time she left but what choice did she have? She did not want to read in the paper about a man found dead in his beach house.
She could stay until she was sure he was fine. She wasn’t expected until tomorrow and would at least know he was going to be OK before she departed. She looked around but there wasn’t a chair in the room, which left only the bed. She’d drag in a chair from somewhere.
Ben had moved while she’d been going over her options. ‘So how did you stumble across me in my hour of need? The beach is usually deserted.’
Misty rarely spoke about her gift and she hesitated at sharing such a personal subject with a stranger. Now was not the time to get into a discussion that would probably end with Ben thinking her fanciful.
‘Just luck. I’ll get a chair.’
Ben lifted his arm and pulled a pillow across from the pile at the top of the bed and put it by his side. His weary eyes twinkled despite his exhaustion.
‘Here. Lie down next to me. I’ll put a wall up so I don’t attack you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Misty said, and went to explore the house to find a seat. There was a huge old recliner in the next room that looked incredibly comfortable but it would never fit through the door into Ben’s room.
Then there were the driftwood chairs on the verandah that looked fabulous but when she sat on them they were like bony park benches with knobs and bends in uncomfortable places. She couldn’t lounge on them for four hours.
The kitchen had high-backed bar stools and she sighed as she carried one through.
‘That looks comfortable,’ Ben said conversationally, but then he shook his head. ‘I’ll get up. I can’t stand the thought of you perched up there just because you’re a good Samaritan. It’s really not been a good day for good Samaritans all round. I wouldn’t have nearly drowned if I hadn’t been trying to save a bird. It’s a step too far for you to suffer further on my account.’
He was either incredibly well mannered or incredibly sneaky but she really had no choice if he threatened to get up.
‘For goodness’ sake, I’ll lie down next to you. But don’t blame me if I go to sleep. I’ve been driving since early this morning and spent a couple of hours in the sun this afternoon.’
‘Perfect. We’ll both sleep.’ He closed his eyes briefly, as if they stung.
She was glad to see his eyelids droop but then he began to speak again.
‘My luck must have changed,’ he said with his eyes still shut. Then they opened and he said quite seriously, ‘You have a way of making me forget all reason in the most disconcerting way.’
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that statement because it came just as she lowered herself onto the bed as far away as possible from him.
He smiled across at her, and it changed him into a much younger man, a less world-weary one, and for a moment her knees trembled and she was pathetically grateful she was lying and not standing because she might have collapsed, boneless, on top of him.
Then he looked away and she managed to draw a discreet steadying breath and edge an inch further away from him.
He wasn’t having that. He lifted his shoulder and slid across the bed until their shoulders were touching, and then slid his arm under and around her shoulders. Ben’s hand was cool against her but insidiously heat rose up her body like black ink soaking into white chalk.
And once there the heat wasn’t going anywhere. It just got warmer and warmer.
‘So where have you driven from today and where are you going?’
Misty tried to focus on what he’d said. Anything to move her mind away from the slow combustion going on inside her.
Focus on the real world. That’s a novel idea, she mocked herself, and organised her thoughts to where they should be.
‘I’m moving to Lyrebird Lake to work in a birth centre with my brother and sister-in-law.’
Ben’s interest seemed genuine. ‘What does your brother do?’
‘Andy? He’s the GP running the bush hospital, but doesn’t have much to do with the birthing side. He married my best friend and they’re expecting a new baby. The unit’s for women-centred care. The absolute best place to have a baby.’
He frowned, and Misty could see he was unfamiliar with the term. ‘Women-centred care. Define that?’
This was a wonderful diversion from the heat in her stomach. Misty could talk about this gladly. ‘Each midwife has her own caseload of clients in order to better meet the needs of the woman. It gives more satisfaction all round.’ She couldn’t help the excitement even she could hear in her voice.
‘The idea is to give each woman holistic care that can cover all the facets of being pregnant from antenatal education, mental status, breastfeeding and, of course, caring for baby when he or she comes home.’
Ben stared at her as if he didn’t get it. ‘I know obstetrics but it sounds like nothing I’ve ever had contact with.’ His voice held an extra dimension she couldn’t quite place but he went on quickly as if speeding away from the topic he’d started and now regretted.
His voice dropped. ‘Babies. New life.’
Ben turned his head to stare at the ceiling. ‘I wonder if what happened today means my slate is clean? Can I begin a new life because I so nearly lost the old one?’
The nuance of despair could have been imagined but something in his profile tugged at Misty.
She memorised the contours of his face for the time soon when she’d have to leave. ‘I believe anyone can start a new life if they are determined.’
He turned to look at her and there was a glow in his eyes that made her catch her breath. ‘Maybe you are destined to change my life.’
Impossible dream. She lifted her hand and peered at her watch as if to remind herself she needed to leave. Not that the fish would mind if she never went back to the beach to catch them. ‘I’m planning on doing a bit more with my life than running around dragging you out of life-threatening situations, Ben.’
His arms tightened. Even his aura seemed to drift around her like the sea that had almost claimed him. ‘But you saved my life so beautifully,’ he said.
The memories rushed back and she shivered. ‘Don’t joke about it, Ben, please. Today was very close.’
He stilled and then squeezed her shoulder in comfort and regret for upsetting her again. ‘Resuscitation is always frightening. I’m sorry you had to do that, Misty.’
She forced her mind away from those indelible pictures and closed the subject with finality. ‘I think I’ll get up.’
He ignored her statement and tightened his arm around her and lowered his voice so she’d have to strain to hear him. ‘So you’re a midwife. That would explain the mothering you’ve been doing.’
Her neck ached from the strain of wanting to sink into his arm and she gave up. She rested her head back and stared rigidly at the ceiling.
She blinked. He had stars glued in constellations on the roof. It was amazing, and she imagined they would glow fabulously at night. It would have taken days to create. She frowned. He had too much time on his hands, she thought as she tried to remember what he’d said while she tried to identify the star signs. Oh, yes, midwives and mothering.
‘Known a few midwives, have you?’ she said.
He gave a short mirthless laugh and she was jolted out of her contemplation of his ceiling.
‘In