Fifteen #2
Lachlan had deliberately not played his bagpipes this morning so he wouldn’t wake her but apparently it hadn’t mattered. He put the plate in the sink and crossed back to her, giving in to the urge to touch her this time.
To hell with it, she looked and sounded wretched, and it was weird to not offer some kind of comfort to a woman he not only liked and had slept with but was carrying his baby.
The baby currently causing all her wretchedness.
He slid his hand over hers. ‘I’m sure Reggie’s got plenty of things in the kitchen more interesting than dry toast to tempt your currently delicate constitution.’
She shuddered. ‘Ugh, not right now.’
He smiled. ‘No. Not right now. When next you feel able to eat something.’ He tipped his chin at the bags that were sitting by the door. ‘All packed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay, I’ll get them loaded.’
By the time he’d tossed them into the back of the ute, Rowena, now in her boots, was stepping out of the bunkhouse, Red shadowing her every move. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and inhaled the cool, eucalyptus-laden air.
He loved this time of year. With August mere days away, the sun was rising earlier and the bleats of newborn lambs were everywhere. The days were getting warmer, but the cooler nights and mornings still dripped dew off the leaves and veiled the gullies in mist.
Lachlan opened the vehicle door but she shook her head. ‘I think I might walk? The fresh air might do me good.’
‘Sure, I’ll bring these over later. Better bring this one with me, though.’ He reached in and pulled out the three-day-old lamb that had been dozing in the back of the ute. It bleated loudly in protest at the interruption.
Rowena’s face lit up at the sight and Lachlan breathed a little easier. ‘Oh my god! How cuuute is he?’ She paused and looked at him. ‘She?’
‘She,’ Lachlan confirmed.
She stroked the snowy white head, which instantly calmed the bleating. ‘Are you taking her for a pet?’
Lachlan laughed. ‘No. We don’t keep pet lambs. Puppies are enough.’
‘Then where are you taking her?’
‘She was one of the twin births. Mother’s rejecting her. We’ll bottle feed her for a bit then hopefully we can get one of the other mothers to take her over in the next few days.’
He omitted the part about the prospective new mother being whichever was the next ewe to have a stillbirth. It was a fact of life out here on the farm but not a topic for now.
‘Oh, you poor baby,’ she crooned.
The cramp in his chest eased as she made kissy noises and laughed as the lamb, well aware it had an audience and keen to play on its underdog status, gave the most pathetic bleat to ever be bleated.
Lachlan rolled his eyes at the act, but it clearly worked as Rowena made nonsensical soothing noises and rubbed her cheek against the soft downy fluff of its ears.
The cramp eased some more as he handed the animal into her eager arms. If it took a canny baby lamb to distract her from her precarious stomach, he’d take it.
‘In honour of Douggy’s daughter,’ Rowena said, addressing the sheep, ‘I think I’ll call you Shirley.’
Lachlan laughed and resigned himself to the fact Shirley was about to become a pet. No baby farm animal that had ever been named made it onto a truck.
‘C’mon then, Red,’ he addressed the dog. ‘Let’s get Shirley her bottle.’
The warble of a currawong provided the backing music as they crossed the distance to the homestead, Rowena fussing over the lamb the entire way.
The lamb found her voice again when Lachlan scooped her out of Rowena’s arms and deposited her in the playpen, which had been unused since the last puppy had gone to a nearby farm a week ago.
Rowena objected at the same time Shirley was bleating her displeasure.
‘She’ll be fine here,’ Lachlan assured. ‘More room, more specialised attention and it’s only for a day or two. We’ll bring her in at night and Reggie’ll feed her soon.’
Rowena didn’t look impressed by his explanation, but all Lachlan cared about was the colour back in her cheeks. Whether it was the fresh air, the distraction, or both, he was just relieved to see her looking less zombie and more human.
Although clearly not that much more, if the slight rounding of Reggie’s eyes and the shared look of concern between her and Albert was anything to go by.
‘Goodness, darl,’ she said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘You look all done in. Pull up a pew.’
It was the truest measure of how badly she was feeling, Lachlan thought, that Rowena didn’t bother to refute it or put on a brave face, she just meekly sat.
‘I’m so sorry to be a bother.’
‘Pfft.’ The loose grey strands of Reggie’s hair blew back off her forehead at the puff of air produced by the disparaging noise. ‘You’re not a bother. You’re family.’
Lachlan winced at Reggie’s grand statement. Was Rowena in the right frame of mind to hear something like that? Because, like it or not, if there was a baby in around seven months’ time, they would be a family.
Even if he had no clue what that would look like.
‘Now. Can I interest you in something to eat?’
If it was possible, Rowena got even paler at the suggestion. ‘Oh, god, no.’ She shook her head vigorously. ‘Sorry … that came out a little stronger than I meant. Thank you for the offer. Maybe later.’
Reggie, completely unconcerned by Rowena’s rejection of her food, just nodded.
‘No need to apologise. I couldn’t keep a thing down with my first baby for five months.
’ She gave a dramatic shudder before assessing Rowena with those shrewd old eyes.
‘Would you like to go back to bed? I’ve made up the room next to Lachlan’s. It has an ensuite.’
‘Oh, yes, please.’
Rowena looked as though Reggie had handed her a lifeline, and Lachlan felt guilty he hadn’t thought to offer it himself.
She’d rallied a lot during the walk over with Shirley, but she was looking peaky again.
Maybe the early stages of pregnancy were like that?
Nausea, vomiting, tiredness, exhaustion. Punctuated by bursts of activity?
Fun. Not.
Lachlan made a note to go to the library and see what books they had on pregnancy.
Preferably one that could tell him what he should be doing.
He knew what to do at every stage of a ewe’s gestation, but zip when it came to a human’s.
He’d google it as well, but a book was handy for when he was out of internet range, as he often was on the outer reaches of the property, and at least he could keep the book in his glove box and thumb through it when he stopped for a bite to eat.
‘Lachy?’
He tore his gaze off Rowena’s profile at his grandmother’s prompting. ‘Yeah?’
Bugging her eyes at him, Reggie tipped her chin in Rowena’s direction. ‘Why don’t you give Rowena a tour then show her to her room?’
‘Oh, right … yes.’ Lachlan pushed off the counter he’d been lounging against and smiled at Rowena, gesturing with his hand. ‘This way.’
They were nearly through the door that led from the kitchen into the lounge room when Reggie called, ‘Ro?’
Rowena turned. ‘Yes?’
‘Don’t worry, darl. We’ll find something you can stomach. I saw someone asking for morning sickness remedies on the local CWA Facebook page last week. I’ll check out the comments and see if there’s anything worthwhile there.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Lachy said. ‘Be afraid. Be very afraid.’
Reggie shot him a quelling look, but Rowena managed a half laugh. ‘Thank you.’
*
It took Lachlan about five minutes to give Rowena an abridged tour around the house. She seemed to be flagging fast, and she sank down on the end of the bed as soon as she entered the room, blinking sleepily as she toed off her boots.
‘I’ll bring your bags up soon,’ he said, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, wishing he had a magic wand to take away her morning sickness and erase her tiredness. ‘I’ll just pop them outside the door if you’re asleep.’
‘Awesome, thank you.’ She reached into her back pocket then gave a little groan. ‘My phone must be out at the table.’
‘I’ll get it.’
The relief and unadulterated gratitude in her expression almost cut him in half. Who knew you could feel like a bloody hero by walking through three lousy rooms and back?
‘Thank you. I need to set my alarm in case I oversleep.’
‘By the look of it you should forget your alarm and just sleep as long as you need. Please don’t feel you have to get up and socialise or anything. Mi casa es su casa.’
If she was impressed by his knowledge of basic Spanish, she didn’t mention it. ‘Well, that would be lovely in an ideal world, but I have a late shift starting at one.’
Alarmed, Lachlan pushed off the doorway. ‘Work? You can’t go to work like this.’
Giving a half laugh, she stared at him as though he’d just uttered the dumbest statement in the world. ‘Lachy … I could be like this for weeks.’ She paused, as if she’d suddenly realised she’d looked too far ahead and really wished she hadn’t.
But she pressed on.
‘I can’t not go to work. They’re short staffed as it is. Women all around the world go to work all the time while battling morning sickness. That’s just what we do.’
Well … fuck.
Lachlan had never thought about that. The number of pregnant women around town or out on farms that he’d been in contact with over the years, and he’d never spared a thought for how they were feeling. Turning up whether they felt rotten or not and putting in a day’s work.
That shit took fortitude.
And it was clear from the frown crinkling Rowena’s forehead that she had fortitude to burn. ‘Okay, fine.’ Not that she needed his permission, of course. He was just in new territory and thinking on his feet. ‘But at least let me drive you to and from the hospital.’
‘What? Lachy … no. I don’t need a driver. Plus you’re busy with the lambs and the zillion other things that you deal with around here. You can’t drop all that and be my personal bloody chauffeur.’
‘It might not always be me. Reggie and Albert will help out too.’