Healed By The Midwife's Kiss: Healed by the Midwife's Kiss - Fiona McArthur

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she thought about the fact it needed a second person. Not at all.

      She stepped back inside, glanced around then picked up the sewing basket and dug in it for the ribbons she’d put away. Went back to the double doors and tied back the curtains so they were right off the windows. Not that she was getting visitors—her mind shied away from the mental picture of a man and his baby daughter.

      No. She’d lighten it because now she didn’t need to exclude the light to help her sleep. She was a day-shift person. She was brave. And tomorrow she’d scuba again, and maybe talk to Finlay and Piper if she saw them because she was resurrecting her social skills and stepping forward. Carefully.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      Finn

      FINN GLANCED BACK to the rocky breakwall once, to the spot where Catrina—nice name—had disappeared, as he crouched with Piper at the edge of the water to rinse her mouth of sand. It seemed other people did hurt like he did. And were left with scars that impacted hugely on how they lived their lives.

      Two years working on night duty. He shuddered but could see the logic. Side-stepping the cold space beside you in the bed at night and avoiding that feeling of loss being the first thing you noticed in the day. Maybe he should have given that a go.

      But the way she’d said she hadn’t pegged him as a comedian surprised him out of his usual lethargy. He’d made her laugh twice—that was pretty stellar. Apart from his daughter, whose sense of humour ran to very simple slapstick, he hadn’t made anyone giggle for a long time. He could almost hear her again. Such a delicious giggle. More of a gurgle really.

      So—a widow? Lost like him, for a different reason. He wondered how her husband had died but in the end it didn’t really change her pain. He was gone. For ever. Unlike the uncertainty he lived with.

      Would Clancy ever come back? In a year. In ten years? Was she even alive? But, most of all, what would he tell Piper when she grew up? How could he say her mother loved her when she’d walked away and never asked about her again? The pain for Piper’s future angst had grown larger than his own loss and he had no desire to rush the explanations.

      Milestones with Piper never passed without him singeing himself with bitterness that Clancy wasn’t there to see them. First tooth. First word. First step last week—though she still spent most of her time on her bottom. And on Sunday—first birthday. He felt his jaw stiffen. That would be the day he said enough. Enough holding his breath, expecting Clancy to walk through the door.

      A milestone he’d never thought he’d get to. He hadn’t decided whether to stay in Lighthouse Bay for the day with their usual routine; he was leaning towards taking Piper shopping, something he loathed, so that the logistics of strollers and car parking and crowd managing with a toddler drowned out the reminders of the best day of his life twelve months ago that had changed so soon after.

      He wondered suddenly if he could ask Catrina to come. As a diversion, a pseudo-mother for the day, and then found himself swamped by such intense anger at Clancy for leaving their daughter he almost moaned. Piper clutched his hand and he looked down to see his daughter’s eyes staring up at him as if she could sense his pain.

      He scooped her up and hugged her, felt the lump in his chest and willed it away. Whatever they did, he needed to remember it was a celebration of this angel in his arms, not of the woman who’d left them.

      ‘I’ll always love you, darling.’ The words came out thickly. ‘What would you like to do on Sunday, Piper?’

      ‘Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum.’

      He groaned and buried his face in her shimmering golden cloud of hair. Fine mist-like hair that floated in the breeze and tangled if he didn’t tie it back but he couldn’t bring himself to get it cut. His gorgeous little buttercup with her fine-spun headache of hair.

      ‘Mum, Mum, Mum,’ Piper chirped.

      The last thing he needed to hear at this moment. ‘Oh, baby, don’t. Please.’

      She squirmed and the baby voice drifted up to him. Uncertain. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad?’

      Pull yourself together. He lifted his head and looked into the soft dimpled face so close to his. ‘Yes. Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.’ He carried her into the waves to dangle her feet and she wriggled happily. He concentrated on his fingers holding her as he swept her ankles through the waves and the foam ran up her knees as she squealed in delight. Guilt swamped him all over again. ‘You can say Mum, Mum, Mum any time, my darling. Of course you can. Daddy’s being silly.’ Stupid!

      Piper gurgled with laughter. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.’ Finn could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces again and any lingering thoughts of Catrina the midwife washed into the sea with the grains of sand stuck to Piper’s feet.

       CHAPTER SIX

      Trina

      THE EARLY-MORNING SUNBEAM poked Trina in the eye with an unfamiliar exuberance and she groaned and threw her hand up to cover her face. Who left the curtains open? Only one answer to that. The twinge of morning memory and loss made her breath hitch and she forced herself to breathe calmly.

      Saturday morning. Scuba lesson. She groaned again and all the doubts and fears from last week came rushing back to twist her stomach. Why had she said she wanted to do this again? Why the need to push herself to extremes she didn’t feel comfortable with?

      She flung the bedclothes back and swung her legs. The floor was warmed a little under her feet from the sun. That too seemed different.

      Okay. Why was she fighting this? This was a new chapter in her life. Same book. She wasn’t removing any of the pages—just going forward.

      She squinted at the morning beams painting the inside of her one-room croft in golden stripes and decided they were quite lovely. Not worth groaning about at all.

      She padded across to the uncurtained double doors looking out over the ocean and decided the light streaming in shone still a little too bright until she’d made an Earl Grey to start the day and turned her back.

      As she busied herself in the tiny kitchen nook, she pondered on yesterday and the advances she’d made towards holding a sensible conversation with an eligible male. Though technically she guessed he wasn’t eligible. But probably safe to practise on, as long as he was okay with it.

      Not that she had any long-term intentions but she’d done all right. Beaten the bogeyman, and so had he. That made it a little easier. And no doubt different for him, as his wife had chosen to go. How on earth could a woman leave her baby? And why would she leave Finlay? That too was a teensy worry.

      Trina thought back to where she’d been a year ago. Still in a black fog with a bright shiny mask on her face for work.

      She didn’t believe that time healed all wounds, but maybe it scabbed over some of the deeper lacerations. The problem with losing your true love was they were never really gone, always hovering, a comfort, and an ache that flared into pain that burned right through you.

      Boy, did she recognise the symptoms of reluctantly dipping a toe into the real world after the misty haze of deep grief. There were some aspects of her loss of Ed that would never disappear but in other ways she could, and would, live a happy life. She didn’t think that Finlay Foley had reached that stage yet. Which was a tiny shame.

      But she’d better get on and prepare for her scuba lesson. She’d eat when she came back.

      By the time Trina left her croft on the cliff she knew she’d be late if she didn’t hurry and her steps skipped as she descended to the beach with her towel and specially fitted snorkelling mask. That was one good thing about living right on the beach—she didn’t need to carry much because home was always a few steps away.

      The path stopped

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