Kununurra, far north Western Australia
On a steamy December afternoon, Elizabeth Martin parked her red Subaru XV outside the well-maintained weatherboard home where Mary Goddard, the matriarch of the Goddard family, had lived with her daughter and son-in-law for fifteen years.
A fall the week before had damaged the paper-thin skin on the ninety-nine-year-old’s left arm and leg. Dr. Thomson had wanted to admit her to the hospital for fear of infection, but stubborn as always, Mrs. Mary, as everyone knew her, insisted she’d be fine.
Elizabeth agreed with the doctor but knew better than to argue with Mary Goddard, who still possessed all her faculties, including her clever mind, sharp tongue, and quick wit.
As Elizabeth opened her car door and climbed out, a wall of intense heat, heavy with the scent of jasmine, engulfed her, but she was used to it, having lived in the far north of Australia most of her life. She grabbed her medical bag and headed towards the white timber gate as Frank Goddard, Mary’s eldest son, exited the front door and strolled along the flagstone path.
Although Kununurra was a three-hour drive from Goddard Downs, Frank had started visiting his mother regularly. She was in good health, but last month, she’d lost two of her closest friends, both younger by several years. Frank had officiated at their funerals and seemed to realise his mother could go at any time.
Still, he whistled as he walked. But that was Frank.
“Hey, Liz.” He jogged a few steps closer and gave a wave. “Mum said you were coming this afternoon. Good to see you.”
“And you. How is she today?” Elizabeth hoisted her bag strap over her shoulder and tightened her ponytail.
“Much the same. Still insisting she’ll be fine to come for Christmas. You know how she is.” His crystal-blue eyes sparkled in his sun-weathered face.
Yep. Elizabeth knew. She also understood his mother’s desire to spend Christmas with her family at Goddard Downs where she and her late husband, William, had lived and worked and raised their four children. The cattle station held many memories for her, and perhaps she sensed it might be her last opportunity to spend Christmas there.
“All being well, I’ll bring her out tomorrow.” Planning to spend Christmas at Goddard Downs as well, Elizabeth had already offered to take Mrs. Mary. Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to spend Christmas with the Goddard family. She loved them. Of course, she did. They were like family to her. That was the problem. If she went to Goddard Downs, everyone would expect her and Sean to announce their engagement, but things had cooled between them, leaving her wondering if he’d ever propose. She’d even considered popping the question herself, then begun questioning if they were suited. And if she could give up her job to live at the cattle station he co-managed with his cousin Olivia.
Did she want to live at Goddard Downs?
And what about Bree’s offer to travel the world with her and nurse wherever they found themselves? Elizabeth never cared to travel, but her spirit felt restless. She needed a change, and the idea appealed.
But could she walk away from Sean?
He annoyed her, but she also loved him.
Or at least, she thought she did.
If only God would make it clear what she should do.
Frank opened the car door and rested his hand on the frame, hot air shimmering from the open door. “Great. If there’s any problem, call me. I know what my mother can be like.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“You’re a legend, Liz.” He slid into the driver’s seat, then popped back out. “Oh, I almost forgot. I hope you’re hungry. Sarah’s been baking.”
“I wondered what the smell was. I thought it was the boabs.”
His gaze turned to the flowering bottle-shaped trees lining the wide street. “Could be a bit of both. The flowers are glorious this year.”
Elizabeth nodded. “They certainly are.”
He climbed into the vehicle and started the engine, tipping his wide-brimmed hat before driving off.
Elizabeth let out a breath. Time to attend to Mrs. Mary. She headed along the grevillea-lined stone pathway to the front steps.
Before she climbed them, the door opened, and Sarah, Frank’s older sister, stepped onto the verandah. “Hi, Liz. I thought I heard someone chatting with Frank. Come in out of the heat.”
“Thanks. Looks like a storm’s brewing.” Elizabeth gestured to the menacing cloudbank approaching from the east.
Standing aside for Elizabeth to pass, Sarah followed her gaze. “They said it could be a doozy.”
Great. Just what they needed. Being the wet season, storms were common, but short-lived. This one looked different. “I hope Frank stays ahead of it.”
“I doubt he will, but he’ll be fine. My brother’s used to driving in these conditions.”
Elizabeth could only pray Sarah was right. The roads grew dangerous quickly. How many road accident victims had she helped treat over the years? They were mainly tourists unfamiliar with the roads, but even as skilled and experienced as Frank was, one tourist driving too fast on a slippery road could wipe him out.
Sarah followed her down the hallway. Christmas music played on the radio, and silver tinsel framed the kitchen doorway.
“Would you like a drink and some Christmas nibbles before you start?”
“Sounds lovely. Perhaps afterwards?” Elizabeth needed to attend to Mrs. Mary.
“No problem. Mum’s expecting you. Let me know if you need anything. I’m boxing up treats to hand out at the carols tonight.”
Elizabeth entered the living room while Sarah continued to the kitchen. A neatly decorated Christmas tree dominated one corner, its twinkling lights splashing colour on the wall.
Frail in an oversized upholstered armchair, Mrs. Mary smiled, crinkling up her wrinkled face.
“How are you doing, Mary?” Elizabeth set her bag on the carpeted floor and began inspecting the bloodstained bandages, which had only been changed the day before.
“I’m fine. I’m not sure why everybody’s fussing.”
Hmm. Mary’s voice had weakened since her fall. Was she putting on a brave face? Hiding how she felt?
Probably.
Elizabeth tsked, wagging a finger at her most stubborn—and vulnerable—patient. “You know why. In this heat, the risk of infection is high.”
“It’s cool in here.”
It was a lot cooler inside than out. But still.
“And Sarah keeps a clean house.”
Elizabeth shook her head and clucked her tongue as she removed the last bandage. “That’s not in dispute.”
“Good. So, there’s no problem.”
And that was that. Elizabeth would never win an argument with Mrs. Mary. Instead, she inspected the wound on her arm. “But we still need to be cautious.”
“I’ve had worse wounds than these in my lifetime.”
“I’m sure you have. But you weren’t ninety-nine then.”
“Ninety-nine…” Mrs. Mary sighed. “I keep forgetting my age. Go ahead and do what you must.” She turned her head and stared out the window, golden sunlight gleaming on dust motes floating in the air.
Elizabeth removed the gauze. Phew. The wound wasn’t nasty. “It’s not looking too bad.”
“See. I told you.” As Mrs. Mary craned to peek, her eyes twinkled.
“You did. We’ll give it some air before we redress it. Now, let me look at your other wounds.”
“They’ll be the same.”
“Perhaps, but I still need to check.”
Air puffed from Mrs. Mary’s thin lips so fast the gentle lady barely contained a raspberry. Then, as Elizabeth sank to the beige carpet to unwrap a leg bandage, Mrs. Mary’s cold fingers grasped her shoulder, stilling her administrations. “Now, tell me what’s going on between you and my grandson.”
Beneath the weight of that frail hand, Elizabeth’s shoulders fell. She removed the dressing on Mrs. Mary’s leg. “Not much, I’m afraid.”
“That’s what I heard. I thought you’d be married by now.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders fell further. So had she. “He hasn’t even proposed.”
“Silly boy.” Mrs. Mary tutted. “I’ll have words with him tomorrow. You’ll have a ring on your finger by Christmas, mark my words.”
Right. He probably hadn’t even bought one.
Mrs. Mary squeezed her shoulder. “He does love you. He’s just unsure of himself. That’s all.”
Little surprise there with the way Sean’s father, Stephen, belittled him. Elizabeth winced, thinking of how Stephen responded when his older brother appointed Sean manager at Goddard Downs after stepping down. “Why can’t Stephen see Sean’s changed? Offer encouragement—just once.”
“Both men are stubborn ones—all us Goddards are. That makes it hard admitting we’re wrong.”
“True that.” Elizabeth swallowed hard, but she couldn’t force down the ache in her chest. Couldn’t Stephen see what that would mean to his son? No longer the reckless drunkard who only thought about the next rodeo, Sean changed when he surrendered his life to the Lord. But his father’s refusal to believe the change was permanent left him questioning his ability to stay true to his new-found faith.
“By God’s grace, one day Stephen’s opinion will change, and he’ll say so. But until then, Mrs. Mary, you’re right. Sean’s battle with insecurity is real.” Tipping her face up towards the Goddard matriarch, Elizabeth slid her hand atop Mrs. Mary’s, pressing her fingers against her shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s ready for marriage.”
“Nobody’s ever ready for marriage, but so long as a couple love each other and put God first and they’re committed to working through whatever comes their way, they’ll succeed.” Mrs. Mary angled her head, fixing watery but alert blue eyes onto Elizabeth’s. “The question is, do you love him?”
Good question. One Elizabeth had been asking herself for days. How did she know? She’d never been in love before, but when she and Sean were together, her heart swelled, and the world looked different. Better. Brighter. They sparred, but they also laughed and shared things they never shared with anyone else.
Was that love?
She drew a long breath as she redressed Mrs. Mary’s wounds. “I think so.”
A faraway look slackened the elderly lady’s face, smoothing out her wrinkles as if carrying her back in time. “Love’s a strange thing, but if you’re unsure, ask yourself how you’d feel if you never saw him again.”
A weight pressed on Elizabeth’s chest. She couldn’t imagine it. “I’d feel lost.”
Mrs. Mary faced her. “I think you have your answer.”
Maybe. But if he wasn’t ready, she couldn’t force Sean to marry her, could she? Perhaps she should go travelling with Bree. Give him space to figure out what he wanted.
But what if he decided it wasn’t her?
Could she risk it?
She secured the last bandage and pushed to her feet. “There you go. All done.”
“Thank you, dear. Now, Sarah’s got some Christmas treats ready for us before you go.”
Elizabeth smiled and bent to hug the elderly woman’s bony shoulders. “I’ll let her know we’re ready.”
Sarah bustled into the room carrying a tray loaded with Christmas goodies and a pot of tea. She placed the tray on the polished timber coffee table, poured three cups of tea, and insisted Elizabeth fill her plate with the home-baked treats.
“You must think I never eat.” Elizabeth laughed as she bit into the Christmas cake, groaning with pleasure when the rich flavours burst in her mouth.
Sarah eased into an armchair and sipped her tea. “I know how hard you nurses work and how little time you have for baking.”
That was true. When Elizabeth arrived home after a twelve-hour shift, the last thing she felt like doing was cooking. Plus, baking wasn’t her forte.
After a pleasant hour, she took her leave and said she’d collect Mrs. Mary the following day to drive her to Goddard Downs for Christmas.
She didn’t have the heart to tell her she might not stay.
