Page 14 of Where the Wattles Bloom

With her midwifery and NICU experience, Rowena had been employed to work in the emergency department. All high-risk births around the district were shunted several hundred kilometres to Dubbo or even to Sydney depending on the situation, but unforeseen situations did sometimes arise.

A premmie baby determined not to wait, or an unexpected little arrival from someone just passing through town, benefited from a nurse of Rowena’s experience. This made her a highly desirable hire, and she noted a state-of-the-art neonatal cot as they passed by one of the two resus cubicles.

‘The department is enabled for telehealth,’ Diana said, pointing at a screen as they moved through.

Rowena remembered that from her interview—it’d been one of the reasons she’d felt okay about flying so far outside her comfort zone. Knowing that clinical consultations with city specialists were available via video link at the tap of a key had helped ease her concerns about the isolation.

They passed by the imaging department, complete with a CT scanner, on their way to the older part of the hospital. This area housed medical and surgical patients as well as maternity and paediatrics. The operating theatre, pharmacy and outpatient departments were also located in the building.

As they worked their way around the complex, Diana introduced Rowena to a dozen different people. Thanks to the incident with Silvano, everyone seemed to know who she was. She’d even been called an angel and a hero, which was embarrassing.

Although, she supposed, preferable to notoriety.

Rowena still cringed every time she thought about that night several months ago, turning up at her place of employment at two am in her pyjamas and bed hair, ranting about infusion rates. Which is why she had to use her time here to get herself on track.

She had a lot to prove back in Sydney.

Diana pointed to a row of large prefab buildings, all with ramp access, nestled between the old and new buildings. ‘That’s allied health,’ she said, as they walked along an outdoor corridor shaded by the overhang of the roof. ‘Physio, speech therapy, dieticians and social work are located there.’

Rowena nodded as the winter sunshine slanted in, warming the corridor pleasantly. She knew it would be a while before she got her bearings but, suffice to say, she was impressed. This might be the middle of nowhere but Rowena felt less out of her depth seeing, first hand, how well this little town was serviced medically.

For someone who had worked for a very long time in a highly medicalised environment where several specialist doctors were at her fingertips at any given moment, the thought of going to a small rural hospital had required a leap of faith. But Brooke had been right. A low-stress place of work to ease back into things was the best way forward.

She needed to walk before she could run. And she would run again. She had to.

Otherwise, who else was she?

‘It’s a lot to take in,’ Diana said as they headed to her office. ‘But you’ll find your way around in no time.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

Which was the truth. Rowena had been away from work long enough. It might have been a necessary break, but there were bills and a mortgage to pay.

Not to mention a reputation to repair.

‘I’ll get Shari to set you up in the system so you can work through the orientation modules today and tomorrow. I’ve put you on an early on Wednesday so you can shadow Brooke.’

Rowena nodded. ‘Sounds great.’

*

‘You’re quite the hit around town,’ Brooke announced, setting two glasses of white wine between them.

They were in a booth in the main bar of The Stockman, which was surprisingly lively. Monday was apparently chicken parmi night and not to be missed. Brooke, who was solo tonight because Nathan had volunteered to install the new lights at the footy clubhouse, had insisted on buying Rowena dinner to celebrate her first day at the hospital. And Rowena had learned long ago to just go with the flow where her friend was concerned.

Many groups of people—some obviously family, others friends—either sat at tables or stood around near the bar chatting, drinking and laughing. It made for a friendly, if rather loud, atmosphere.

‘Wal said the meals were on the house and Thommo bought the drinks,’ Brooke said. ‘Looks like Nate and I are joining you for dinner every night whether you like it or not.’

Rowena laughed. ‘And here I was worried they wouldn’t like some city slicker.’

‘They can be wary of newcomers, that’s true.’ Brooke had been born and bred in Acacia Junction and her pride at her continuing connection to her Country burst out of every pore, from the twin always was, always will be beaded bracelets on her wrist to the football jersey she was wearing bearing the name of the local team. ‘But thanks to your kick-arse entry into the town, I think they’ve decided to adopt you.’ She held her glass up. ‘Cheers to you. And Silvano Morelli.’

Smiling, Rowena tapped her glass against Brooke’s and they both took a sip. ‘Mmm, that’s good.’

She hadn’t been lying to Lachlan about her not being much of a drinker. Rowena was very aware that taking a glass full of depressant with her antidepressant medication was not best practice, but one or two every now and then wouldn’t hurt.

Brooke rolled her eyes. ‘Of course it’s good. It’s a New Zealand sauv. We live in the bush, not outer space.’