A Father for Her Baby. Sue MacKay

baby kicked none too gently.

      ‘You’re quite the swimmer, aren’t you?’ Sasha smiled as she sucked in a breath. ‘The inside of my tummy must be bruised purple from your feet.’ Pregnancy was amazing. Every day seemed different. She already loved her little girl. Completely and utterly. Fiercely. She’d protect her with her life.

      On the radio a song finished and the announcer piped up in his false cheery voice, ‘Coming up to eleven-thirty on the clock, folks. I hope each and every one of you is tucked up warm and safe by now.’

      ‘I wish. Big time.’ Sasha flicked a glove-covered finger in the direction of her radio. ‘You obviously haven’t listened to your station’s weather forecast, buster. It’s been blowing a blizzard up and down New Zealand for most of the day and some of us are struggling to get home in the resulting chaos.’

      Successfully negotiating a tight bend, she let relief spread through her. ‘One down.’ The relief evaporated instantly. ‘Plenty more to go.’ If only she was pulling up outside her house now. She was so over this trip.

      A new, cheerful song filled the interior of the car as Sasha leaned forward to peer through the windscreen. ‘It’s hideous out there, Flipper.’ Not even the possums were out partaking in their nightly forage for dinner. She shivered and hunched her neck down into the warmth of her leather jacket.

      Her mouth stretched wide as she yawned. She was tired beyond tired. The long drive down to Christchurch on Thursday, the pre-wedding celebrations, in which, as bridesmaid, she had an active role, and then the wedding yesterday—she’d been on the go non-stop for three days. And then today’s endless drive from hell. If only keeping her job wasn’t so important that she had to get home. But it funded her decision to return to the one place on earth where she felt safe, where there were people she could trust, where her family lived. Where Mum needed her.

      Golden Bay with its small township of Takaka had become her bolt-hole, the place where she could lick her wounds and harden her heart, the district she wanted to settle down in and raise her daughter. Earlier she’d briefly considered calling one of the doctors she worked for and explaining that she’d be a day late getting back, but they’d been adamant she had to prove her reliability if she wanted to get a permanent position at the medical centre. No days off for anything except illness, she had been told on more than one occasion. Her reputation from her long past high-school days just wouldn’t go away. Small communities had a lot to answer for. But that was why she was here, that sense of a blanket being wrapped around her and keeping her safe and warm had also drawn her in.

      Another yawn lifted her shoulders, filled her lungs. Rubbing her eyes, she spoke loudly in an attempt to banish the loneliness suddenly enveloping her. ‘Hey, Flipper, ready to tuck up under our quilt? I know I am.’ She really was nuts, talking to the baby like this. But it made a change from yakking to herself all the time. And it was good to talk to her baby even before she was born, right? Who cared? She’d do it anyway. There’d be people who said it was the right thing to do, and others who’d say she was bonkers.

      ‘Unfortunately the cottage will be cold enough to freeze the boll—’ Oops, mind your language in front of the baby. ‘It’d be great if your grandma has gone down to light the fire for us. But somehow I doubt it. She doesn’t trust the safest of fireboxes.’ Mum had always been overly cautious. Mum. Sasha’s mouth drooped into the antithesis of a smile while her eyes misted.

      ‘What has Mum ever done to deserve the disease slowly wrecking her life, taking over her body?’ she asked around the lump clogging her throat. Her beautiful mother, who’d always been there for her and her brother, refusing to accept the disease taking hold in her body would never let go.

      Sniff, sniff. Life could be so damned unfair. Sasha’s hands tightened on the steering-wheel as she leaned forward, all the better to see, but it didn’t make the slightest difference. This final stretch of road seemed interminable.

      ‘What the heck?’ Red lights blinked from the edge of the road ahead, right on the bend of the next hairpin. Random. Definitely out of place. Suddenly her heart beat a rapid rhythm.

      ‘I don’t like the look of this.’ Her bed beckoned even harder. Swallowing a yawn and resisting the urge to slam on the brakes, she gently slowed to a stop right beside the rear end of an upside-down truck poking up from the bank it’d gone over. ‘Bad parking.’ But hardly surprising, given the hazardous road conditions. And why she hadn’t relaxed at all despite getting close to home.

      Sasha carefully turned her vehicle so the headlights shone onto the wrecked truck, with its black tyres pointing up into the night. Downright eerie. A shiver ran down her vertebrae. For a brief moment she wanted to drive on home to that cold bed and not face what might be waiting in that buckled cab. Not because of her need to be home safe but because all the years working in emergency departments hadn’t dulled the fear she might fail someone who desperately needed her help. Neither did her nursing experience make seeing people suffering any easier to deal with. She felt for them, had cried tears for them.

      ‘Get on with it,’ she said. ‘You can do the emotional stuff later when everyone in that vehicle’s safe.’ Because the truck hadn’t driven itself off the road, and the glowing headlights suggested it hadn’t happened long ago.

      None of that stopped her muttering, ‘Please, please, be empty.’ Her churning stomach mocked her. ‘Okay, then be safe, not seriously injured.’

      Tugging her woollen hat down around her ears and pulling at the zipper on her jacket to try and close the gap caused by her baby bulge, she hauled in a lungful of warm air before elbowing the door open and gingerly stepping down onto the frozen road. Instantly her feet skidded sideways and she grabbed for the door, hung on as she righted herself. This wouldn’t be a picnic, and these days, with Flipper on board, she had to be extra, extra careful.

      Her cheeks instantly tightened from the cold, while her unease increased. Initially the night seemed silent but now the cracking sounds of hardening ice became apparent. Or was that the truck shifting?

      ‘Nice one, Sasha. Scare yourself, why don’t you? Move your butt and stop overthinking the situation.’

      Collecting her medical kit and the heavy-duty torch she always carried, she gingerly crunched over to the edge of the bank, and gasped. In the half-light the Golden Bay Freight Lines logo on the side of the truck was distorted but readable. Sam and Lucy Donovan’s truck. ‘Sam, is that you? It’s Sasha.’

      ‘Help me.’

      ‘Sam, are you on your own?’ Please, she muttered. Talk about needing a lot of favours in one night.

      ‘No, the missus is with me. She’s hurt bad, Sasha.’

      Damn, damn, triple damn. The Donovans were the greatest neighbours her parents had ever had, always there for them, there for her too nowadays whenever she needed help with Mum’s orchard. Which she didn’t. Not because she was stubborn or anything. Of course not.

      Sam hadn’t finished with the bad news. ‘I can’t move my legs.’

      ‘I hear you.’ First she needed to get more help. Fast. Her heart sank. What were the chances there’d be cellphone coverage? But she couldn’t do this on her own. ‘Has anyone driven past since you went off the road?’

      ‘Not that I heard.’ Sam’s voice cracked. ‘Hurry, Sasha. Lucy’s bleeding from the head.’

      Things were looking up. Not. Her heart squeezed for the middle-aged couple stuck in that cab. ‘Sam, you’ll have to hang in there while I get the rescue crews on the way out.’ She swallowed her growing worry. Like worrying helped anybody. Thinking logically was the only way to go.

      Tugging her phone free of a pocket, she touched icons. No coverage. Sasha glared upward at the stars blinking out of the now-clear sky. ‘Thanks very much. Can’t someone up there make it a little bit easier to save my friends?’

      Crunch, crack. She jerked. Had the truck moved? ‘Sam?’

      ‘Sounds