‘I think I’ll lie down,’ Clare said, and she shook her head at Emma when she moved to help her. ‘I’ll be right by myself. Show Andy and his friend out, please, Emma.’
They said their goodbyes and as they drove away Montana could still see the alarm in Emma’s eyes as she watched them go.
Montana examined Andy’s profile and she ached for his silent distress. ‘You do think it is Huntington’s disease, don’t you?’
Andy flicked a glance at her and then he sighed heavily as if he found it difficult to show Montana even a little of what was churning him up inside. ‘I’m pretty sure.’
He sighed again. ‘It all makes sense. The progression has been slow but the symptoms are there when you look, and it all slots into place.’
He shook his head as if disgusted with himself for taking so long to think of that answer.
‘She’s had short-term memory loss, fidgeting, depression and apathy, which is so unlike Clare. Now that she has the involuntary movements in her fingers and toes, everything ties in.’
Montana puckered her forehead and then shook
her head. ‘I think you are being too hard on yourself. It’s still pretty tenuous. I’d never have thought of Huntington’s. It’s not your everyday disease. And how could she not know about a family disease like that?’ The link wasn’t there, that Montana could see. ‘Without the family history, Huntington’s doesn’t even come up.’
Andy rubbed the back of his neck again as if it ached. ‘I think you’ll find there will be an aunt or uncle or grandparent somewhere in the past who didn’t die young. Obviously one of her parents had the gene but died in the car accident before they were diagnosed.’
‘So it can’t skip a generation?’ Montana asked, and she shivered at Clare’s prognosis.
‘You’re thinking of Emma and her baby? And Emma’s brothers.’
She nodded. ‘It’s a terrible thing to have hanging over your head.’
Andy watched the road intently and she had no doubt his brain was racing. ‘This disease usually doesn’t manifest until the person is in their thirties or forties. It can even be as late as a person’s seventies and in that case the disease is often mild.’
Best-case scenario. ‘So they could get it late and mild if they were lucky.’
Andy slapped the steering-wheel at the unfairness and Montana thought again how much she admired his empathy for his patients. ‘Lucky? Yeah.’ he said.
They both fell silent and then he added, ‘I guess we have to think about some unfortunate people who have juvenile onset—but thankfully that’s rare.’
Montana didn’t know how to comfort Andy. ‘Can you treat Clare if this is what her problem is?’
He glanced across at her briefly and his face reflected his sombre thoughts. ‘Only supportively. But I will do everything I can for her and her family. We’ll make sure they have the support they need but if Clare has inherited the gene then it’s activated and her central nervous system is breaking down. Her symptoms are only going to get worse and eventually she’ll require full-time professional care.’
Montana stared at the road in front, too, and she could feel the shock course through her. ‘That’s horrific.’
Andy sighed heavily. ‘The disease has a fairly slow progress and Clare could live another twenty years, a few of those fairly normally.’
‘How few?’ Montana was thinking how hard this must be for Andy as a friend of the family.
He took one hand off the steering-wheel to rub his neck again and Montana wanted to slide her hand across his shoulders and gently soothe him herself.
‘Clare will have enough warning to modify her lifestyle so she can stay at home for as long as possible, but each year will be harder. We can all only pray someone finds a cure before then,’ Andy said quietly.
The mood in the car was low and Montana thought again of Emma and her baby. ‘Is there much hope for a cure?’
Andy turned and met her eyes briefly. ‘There’s always hope.’
‘So would you test Emma and her brothers?’ She hoped he’d be spared the emotions of actual testing and diagnosis.
‘We’d better make sure that’s what it is first, but I’d suggest it, though the choice is up to them. It’s not something they should rush into.’
He sighed. ‘Actually, I’d prefer to refer them to Brisbane for proper genetic counselling before the predictive test. I’d hate to let them down by wrong information or not enough right information.’
Montana thought about it. ‘I imagine some people would choose not to be tested until they are in their thirties so they can enjoy their life without knowing what’s ahead.’
He nodded. ‘The “lets worry about it if it happens,” option, which has some positives going for it. Like Clare’s parents. Other people feel they need to plan if they test positive. Either way would colour your life, I imagine.’
They pulled up at the house and Montana put her hand on his arm until he turned towards her.
She weighed her words as if she had just realised a sudden truth. ‘It puts living life to the full into perspective, doesn’t it?’
There was a pause and then Andy said, ‘For me it does.’
He looked at Montana soberly and they both pondered his heartfelt response.
L
ATER
that evening, Andy found Montana out on the veranda leaning against the rail.
Dark clouds obscured the moon and lightning reflected off the lake. A cool breeze brushed the wisps of dark hair back off her face.
‘Melancholy miss,’ he said, and came to stand beside her.
She looked across at him. ‘That’s a good description of how I’m feeling.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t help thinking about Emma and what she has to go through with her mother, let alone the possibilities to herself.’
He slipped his arm around her shoulders and she could feel the comfort of his caring seep into her like a warm blanket of peace. She just hoped some comfort was going his way too because a lot of what she was feeling was because Andy was hurting so badly.
Then he said, ‘Life can be hard but we can only deal with what we are given. The amazing strength
I see in patients and their families during hard times is why I love doing what I do.’
He squeezed her shoulder and dropped his voice and she could hear his sincerity. ‘It makes me humble.’
She rubbed the strong fingers that lay across her collarbone. To hear him talk about being humble made her want to throw her arms around him and pull his head down on her chest. His personal pain for Clare and Emma and all their family made her own heart ache.
He would have known them since he’d come here and had only recently helped Emma’s family come to terms with Emma’s pregnancy crisis. Now another more deadly and terrible crisis was affecting them.
But he was right and the world suddenly seemed a little less incomprehensible.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘You put that beautifully, Andy. I do understand. I’ve had patients who have awed me with their tenacity during a really hard labour and you feel so proud to have had a small part in their journey.’
He squeezed her shoulders one more time and then dropped his arm to lean on the rail beside her and gaze out over the lake. ‘Who knows? You and I might have swapped a few more years with our loved ones for the risk of deterioration later in life—or maybe not. No one can tell how we’d react.’
She tried to recall the way Douglas had looked when one of his patients had had to endure hardship, but she couldn’t. It hadn’t been a big part of his make-up but that was no excuse for not to be able to remember. All she could see was Andy, hurting for Emma’s family, and how much she wanted to comfort him.
She tried harder to picture her late husband’s face but nothing came. ‘I’m having trouble remembering Douglas’s face.’ The thought horrified her.
Andy looked down at her and brushed her cheek with his finger. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. It’s tough when that starts to happen. I watched a movie once when someone said it helps if you remember a special moment in time rather than just their face. That works for me when I want to remember my wife.’
‘Thank you. I’ll try that.’ It was odd how she could talk about Douglas with Andy but strangely didn’t feel as comfortable for him to talk about his wife. In fact she’d rather he didn’t and she didn’t know why.
In April, Montana started work as the new deputy nurse manager at the hospital. Her tenure was made up of two short administrative days per week to organise the new caseload midwifery unit and two eight-hour clinical days as the registered nurse on duty for the hospital.
On her first morning as a nurse she worked with
Chrissie, who welcomed her with no small degree of excitement and lots of practical help.
Chrissie was superwoman as far as Montana was concerned.
‘So you work full time and your husband is away three or four nights a week.’ She shook her head at Chrissie. ‘How do you manage?’
Chrissie laughed. ‘My mum gets my son off to school and my husband helps on weekends, but it’s all worth it.’
Montana thought she made it sound a bit easier than it was. ‘What’s he do?’
‘He’s a truck whisperer.’
‘A what? Never heard of it.’
Chrissie smiled reminiscently. ‘That’s what he told me when we met. He’s really a diesel mechanic but he told me that trucks have emotional problems, just like horses.’
She laughed. ‘He’s Irish and has kissed the Blarney stone but I love him. When other mechanics can’t find the fault, he’s the one who goes in and sorts it out. His reputation is spreading faster than he can keep up.’
Montana smiled at the mental picture of an Irishman talking to a tractor about its emotional problems. ‘With a man like that, it must be hard when he’s away, though.’
Chrissie shrugged. ‘We’re saving up for a farm and then he’ll be able to stay home and work from there. Maybe we’ll even have more kids.’
Andy’s unmistakable step in the corridor
heralded his arrival. ‘What’s this about you having kids, Chrissie?’
‘Not yet I’m not and you’ll be the last to know.’ Chrissie looked him up and down. ‘You back again, Andy?’
Surprisingly, Andy had dropped in three times before eight in the morning for reasons Montana assumed she’d work out later.
She saw the twinkle in Chrissie’s eye as she watched each of Andy’s new explanations float past but she didn’t get the joke.
Between the occasional outpatient who appeared for dressings or injections, Chrissie had turned out drawers and cupboards so that Montana knew where to find supplies when needed.
‘How are you going, Montana?’ Andy asked as he skimmed an outpatient chart.
‘It’s all pretty simple really,’ Montana said as she checked expiry dates on medications and restocked dressing packs.
Chrissie bubbled. ‘Apart from the occasional disaster, where we do the best we can with what we have, the rest is more like a clinic than an emergency department.
‘Speaking of clinics, how come yours is finished over at the house, Andy?’ Chrissie had her hands on her hips and Montana laughed.
‘It’s not. I just came over for some more X-ray forms. I’ll see you later,’ he said, and sauntered off again.
Chrissie put another empty box in the bin. ‘The man’s mad but a sweetie. And I have to thank him because having you here is so great. Even if you work part time I’ll have more flexibility with my shifts, which will thrill my family.’
She opened another box. ‘Imagine if more new staff came! Just having one more midwife on the books helps so much. Poor Rhonda has been out of it for too long and she’s over having to be responsible for new babies if one drops in.’
Montana couldn’t imagine ever being over midwifery. ‘Has Andy told you about the new birthing centre plans?’
Chrissie nodded enthusiastically. ‘He mentioned a little and it sounds great. Especially when I think about having another baby myself. Imagine if I didn’t have to go away and wait for labour. Imagine if I could have the same person care for me the whole way through.’
‘That’s how case load works and we want to drum up business. I think you should spread the word,’ Montana teased. ‘Andy’s sister is a midwife. I’m nagging her to pay a visit so I can talk to her about relocating to the Lake.’
Chrissie stopped what she was doing and leant against the bench to study Montana’s face. ‘Have you known Andy for a long time?’ she asked casually.
Montana kept stocking boxes and missed the intensity of Chrissie’s gaze. ‘No. I’ve worked with
Misty for the last six years and she’s one of my best friends but never caught up with Andy. I met Andy after my baby was born and he suggested I come here to recuperate.’
‘Hmm.’ Chrissie’s comment was non committed. ‘He never loses an opportunity for new staff. I guess the Lake is a peaceful place.’
As she finished her sentence the wail of an approaching siren drifted in the window and they looked at each other and smiled. ‘Spoke too soon,’ Montana said.
‘That’ll bring Andy back again and it’s not even nine o’clock yet,’ Chrissie said with a smile.
Montana shut the cupboard she’d been arranging and moved towards the emergency bay. ‘You see a lot of him over here, don’t you?’
‘Some days more than others,’ Chrissie said cryptically, and came to stand beside her as they waited.
The siren turned out to be a police car carrying Chrissie’s eight-year-old son, Dylan, who had fallen off his bike on the way to school.
His left arm was swollen at the wrist and he began to cry in earnest when he saw his mother.
The policeman, Bob, and his wife, June, had scooped him from the road and June had him on her lap while her husband drove. June was almost as upset as Dylan.
Chrissie and Montana lifted him carefully and carried him into the observation room.
By the time Andy arrived, Chrissie had consoled Dylan and arranged for the retired technician to come in and X-ray her son’s arm and Montana had plied Bob and June with tea for their nerves.
An hour later the results were through and Andy was happy to manage Dylan conservatively. ‘Even though his radius and ulna are cracked, the base hospital has confirmed it won’t need plating,’ Andy said.
‘We’ll give him a sedative and the cast will give enough support for it to heal. I’ll write a referral for the orthopaedic surgeon for a check next week, and when he wakes up you can take him home and look after him.’
Chrissie sighed. ‘Poor baby. He’ll go berserk with boredom if he can’t be a daredevil.’ She looked at Montana. ‘Sorry I have to leave you. So much for helping you settle in.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Montana shook her head. ‘I’ve learnt the essentials this morning and if I need anything I can call Andy or talk to you on the phone. And Bill will be here after lunch when he starts his shift. I can save any questions I have for him.’
By eleven Montana was in charge of the hospital but there were no more moments of unusual interest for the rest of the day. Just two old dears in the medical end who wanted to know what had happened with the siren.
Andy brought Dawn over to her mother at lunchtime as Louisa was cooking up a storm for Ned’s
surprise party the following week, and they spent an agreeable half-hour discussing who would come to the party.
Montana was back home by four and was pleasantly satisfied with her first day.
When she walked in to the kitchen, Andy was there jiggling Dawn on his lap and Montana shook her head in disbelief.
‘I can’t believe how many times I’ve seen you today.’
Andy looked at Dawn. ‘I know. Crazy, isn’t it?’
Montana was confused at the undercurrents but couldn’t pin down what disturbed her. ‘One of us is.’
They smiled at each other and then Montana realised she was flirting. Where did she expect that to lead? Her baby was only four months old and her husband gone for just under a year.
Horrified with herself, she wanted to cry and scream and beat her chest that life was unfair and too confusing, but she battened down the urge. But she needed to get away from him.
‘I’ll take Dawn. Excuse me,’ she said, and left the room rapidly with her daughter.
Andy watched her go.
Maybe it was wishful thinking but he had an idea what she was struggling with.
It was strange to be attracted to a person other than the one you’d promised to love for life.
He was finding it difficult himself and he’d
had longer than Montana to adjust to loss and change. Maybe it was all too new and too hard for both of them.
The night of Ned’s seventieth birthday arrived and Montana decided she would enjoy the evening without regret.
Ned was a delight and she wished him a great party. She wouldn’t bring any of her heartache to ruin his evening, though she’d probably be late because she still had a dilemma about what to wear.
She’d spent far too much time unconsciously fantasising about how Andy would look in his kilt and none about how to dress herself.
In the end she chose a black skirt and white lacy top with a frilled neckline. If it looked a little like it could go with a tartan cape, so what?
Ned was due back from his chess game at seven and the guests were arriving from six-thirty on to be in and hidden by seven.
Louisa had been cooking for weeks and Montana planned to slip into the kitchen to see if she could help with any last-minute chores.
She’d just settled Dawn down for a sleep when Andy knocked softly on her door.
‘You there, Montana?’ His voice was low but she had no problem distinguishing the words. Funny, that.
She felt her heart trip a little and she frowned at herself. She took a deep breath and opened her door.
She almost forgot to breathe out. He looked so incredible.
‘Well? Say something.’ She couldn’t believe he was unsure. He didn’t need to be nervous.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ was all she said, and even that came out muffled because her hand had flown up to cover her mouth.
Andy stared back anxiously. ‘Do I look silly?’
Her heart swooped and dived in her chest like there was a big hand in there squeezing and chasing it around. ‘Silly isn’t a word that leaps to mind,’ she said. She met his eyes and dragged her hand away and smiled. ‘No. You look amazing. Fabulous. And very Scottish.’
‘Och, aye, then.’ He grinned and twirled his yellow and red kilt. ‘I still can’t decide whether to wear jocks or not.’
She blinked and her face flushed at the thought. ‘You’re kidding me.’
He grinned again. ‘Yeah, but I had you worried.’
Kill that thought. But, of course, she couldn’t. She felt like a kid waking up on her birthday. But that was silly. It was Ned’s birthday.
‘That’s a relief. I was worried for the innocent children if you fall over later.’
‘You are a hard woman, Montana Browne.’ He may have said ‘hard’ but he’d said it softly and the meaning didn’t correlate with the word.
Andy appeared to like what he saw of her outfit too. His gaze lingered and goose-bumps ran down her arms. She needed space and forced herself to move out of the danger zone.
‘And you look cute in a skirt,’ she said, ‘but I have to go and see if I can do something for poor Louisa. She’s worked herself up into a state.’
‘A kilt, woman, not a skirt. Please.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘What about you and I take over the kitchen from Louisa and she can go and change and put on her make-up before Ned arrives? Chrissie has come over to meet people at the door and hide them in the library until seven.’