‘The obstetrician won’t be here?’
‘If she’s here, then well and good but both Donna and I hold diplomas in obstetrics.’ CJ forked in another mouthful.
‘So you’re happy for Donna, your friend and colleague, to deliver your baby?’
‘Women in country towns usually rely on a friend or a grandmother or an old aunt to help them through deliveries, especially if it takes for ever for the doctor to arrive. Why is this any different? Except in my case, my experienced friend is also a well-trained doctor.’
‘What about midwives? Are there any in the district?’
She shook her head. ‘It would be good, though. We have two part-time district nurses, one from each hospital, but a midwife would definitely be helpful. However, the government believes that with two district hospitals and two GPs this area is well provided for...and I guess we’re much better off than some other districts.’
* * *
He pondered her words as he fixed himself a coffee. ‘Can I get you a drink? I see you have some decaffeinated coffee here. Or would you like some herbal tea?’
CJ shook her head. ‘I’m fine for now, but thank you.’ As she continued to eat, he hunted around the kitchen for the sugar and took the milk from the fridge.
He was glad she was receiving regular check-ups with Donna. With everything that had happened to Abigail, it had made his doctorly instincts almost over-cautious with all pregnant women. He would also need to get used to not working with the latest equipment and specialists on demand. He’d had no idea that Pridham would only have visiting specialists who came this way once a month, sometimes less, leaving the overworked GPs to pick up any slack. Perhaps this job was going to be more interesting than he’d thought.
Ethan glanced across at her, watching her devour those pancakes, secretly delighted that she was enjoying his cooking. He usually had little time to prepare balanced meals, preferring to grab something relatively healthy from the hospital cafeteria. Now that he was in Pridham, he would have the time to exercise more, do more cooking and drive his car. Sure, he’d be working but the stress would be different. Consulting in clinics and doing house calls would be very different from all-day operating lists, overbooked outpatient appointments, departmental administration work and research projects.
As he sat down to drink his coffee, he thought more about the conversation they’d had earlier that morning. It had unnerved him a little to discover that CJ knew Melody. Had Mel told CJ about Ethan’s mild heart attack? Had she told CJ the reason why he’d almost worked himself into an early grave? He sipped his coffee, glancing at her over the rim of his cup. Even if Melody hadn’t said anything to CJ, had any of the other people she’d spoken to revealed gossip about Abigail? About the baby?
If she knew all about him, perhaps he should learn more about her? He’d called her trusting to take a stranger into her home but, likewise, he’d accepted a job and accommodation and had, for all intents and purposes, spent last night in a stranger’s home.
What did he really know about the pregnant woman opposite him? She was a local in Pridham, ran a busy practice, held a diploma in obstetrics and was a pregnant widow. It made him wonder about her, made him want to ask more questions, to get to know her better, and that, in itself, was uncommon for him. He usually wanted to know as little about his colleagues as possible, other than they were competent and skilled enough to do their work.
Clearing his throat, he put his cup down on the table. ‘Uh... CJ, if you don’t mind me asking, how did your husband die?’
‘Quinten died in a car crash almost nine months ago. It was six weeks after he’d passed away that I found out I was pregnant.’ CJ sighed, shaking her head sadly. ‘Quinten had never wanted children, anyway, so, regardless of the situation, I would have been raising this child on my own.’
‘He would have left you in the lurch?’ Clearly, from what she’d told him last night, her marriage hadn’t been a happy one—at least near the end of it. He could relate to that far more than she probably realised. He and Abigail had been very happy in the beginning, but near the end...
She shrugged one shoulder. ‘Who’s to say? Perhaps he would have done the right thing and at least financially provided for the baby.’ CJ put her knife and fork together on her plate, then leaned back and rubbed a hand over her stomach, smiling at her baby bump. ‘Did you enjoy that, my sweetheart? Because Mummy certainly did.’
‘How long were you married?’
‘Five years, but we’d grown apart, as I mentioned last night.’ She shrugged the words off with feigned nonchalance. ‘That was my old life. I now have a new one I need to concentrate on.’ She smiled brightly—a little too brightly, he thought as she levered herself up. ‘Thanks so much for breakfast. Donna’s doing morning clinic so we don’t need to bother with that, although you will be rostered on once a fortnight to work a Saturday morning.’
Ethan nodded. ‘I re-read all the paperwork last night.’
‘Right, well, how about I slip on some shoes and then we can head off to Whitecorn District Hospital.’
‘That’s the other district hospital where I’ll be doing a clinic once a month?’
‘Correct.’ She cleaned up the mess she’d made, wiping down the benches before heading into her part of the house. When she returned, she’d tied her hair back into low pigtails and added a scarf. ‘Mind if we take your car?’ She batted her eyelashes at him pleadingly and smiled sweetly. He couldn’t help but grin at her efforts.
‘Subtle.’ They headed outside into the April sunshine.
‘Well, I did warn you that I’d beg a ride.’
‘Yes, yes, you did.’
