Page 63 of A Chance to Believe

It was a plain navy t-shirt and a pair of apricot trackpants that must have come from Nana’s old stash, from when she put on weight after her husband passed away. ‘Almost pink even.’

With a wry laugh, she dropped into step beside him. Her damp hair was in a braid, pinned up so it wouldn’t make her shirt wet. There were still shadows in her eyes, but her colour was back and the tremor he’d noticed in her hands was gone.

‘You had hair stuff in your bag?’

‘Always.’

His mother had a meal ready on the table. Something light in deference to the warmth of the evening. Ham and salad and a jug of Cassie’s favourite, freshly diluted orange juice with a hint of lemon.

Dawn carried the conversation, talking about Jordan and planning how she and the family could help. They all listened as the sound of a helicopter passed overhead. A short time later, it came again, in the opposite direction. Dawn exchanged a glance with Francis. ‘I’ll give Grace a call later.’

Cassie looked uncomfortable, shifting on her chair, poking at the food but getting some down. He wondered if it was a good thing to have a full meal when you might be about to go into labour. He eyed the leafy greens and decided it wasn’t likely to be a problem.

The phone rang and his father reached over to the buffet and answered it. He nodded a couple of times and murmured something about passing it on. Dawn was sitting up like an expectant meerkat.

He smiled at her. ‘Not about Jordan. He’s been flown out. Michael Long went with him because Morgan couldn’t go. That was them we heard go over.’

Dawn frowned. ‘Why didn’t Morgan go? He’s Jordan’s doctor, and he was the one treating him at the accident.’

‘Becca has gone into labour.’

Shayne turned and caught Cassie looking at him with eyebrows raised.

‘I doubt if he told her. She was due anyway.’

Cassie snorted. ‘I bet she winkled it out of him. Or someone else told her. Half the town was there.’

‘Tell her what?’ His mother was eyeballing both of them.

‘Nothing.’ It came out abruptly, but Cassie was receiving the full treatment. Stronger women than her could not withstand his mother’s silent interrogation technique.

‘It was nothing really, Dawn. Morgan had to crawl in close to the tractor to treat Jordan.’

Francis touched his wife’s arm. ‘They’re all fine now. No-one was hurt apart from Jordan.’

‘Where were you then, Shayne? Standing around watching, I suppose?’ His mother could do sarcasm like a pro.

‘I was helping Morgan, of course. We were all safe.’

His mother vanished into the kitchen after they’d eaten, promising to return with a pot of tea once she’d stacked the dishwasher. With similar tact, his father muttered something about bin day and followed his wife.

Shayne took Cassie into the lounge room so she could rest on the couch.

‘Shouldn’t we be going home?’

‘I thought we’d have the cup of tea first. Grace will ring them once Celie lets them know she’s arrived in Brisbane. With any luck, there’ll be an update on Jordan.’

‘I can’t believe Becca has gone into labour. What a day for the family.’

Shayne watched her shift on the cushions, wincing as she arched her back. ‘Would you like a back rub?’

‘Would you? I can’t seem to shake this. Everything aches. My skin on my belly feels more stretched than usual.’

He helped her put her bare feet up on the couch and sat behind her so she could lean into his shoulder, exposing her back to his touch. Her moan when he rubbed the heel of his hand into her lower back set his body alight, but his concern made it easy to dismiss it. ‘Do you think you might be in labour?’

She stiffened but relaxed almost immediately. ‘I haven’t had any contractions. Not even Braxton Hicks. It’s most likely because of standing around and being on the ground for so long with no back support.’

He kept kneading the flesh, tugging down the waistband of the trackpants to get to the softness at the top of her buttocks. Her little groans and exhalations were incitement to fantasise.

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