Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek - Barbara Hannay - Страница 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN ELLIE WOKE early next morning, she felt an immediate riff of excitement, a thrill straight from childhood.

Christmas morning!

She went to her bedroom window and looked out. It was raining again, but not too heavily. She didn’t mind about the rain—at least it would cool things down.

‘Happy Christmas,’ she whispered to the pale pink glimmer in the clouds on the eastern horizon, and then she gave a little skip. Rain, hail or shine, she was more excited about this Christmas than she had been in years.

Having a child to share the fun made such a difference. And this year they had all Joe’s bounty to enjoy, as well as his pleasant company during their day-long truce.

The truce was a big part of the difference.

Don’t think about tomorrow. Just make the most of today.

On the strength of that, Ellie dressed festively in red jeans and a white sleeveless blouse with a little frill around the neckline. When she brushed her hair, she was about to tie it back into its usual ponytail when she changed her mind and left it to swing free about her shoulders.

Why not? They might be in the isolated outback, but it was Christmas, so she threaded gold hoops in her ears as well, and sprayed on a little scent.

On her way to the kitchen she passed Jacko’s room, but he was still asleep, still unaware of the exciting bundle at the end of his cot. He normally wouldn’t wake for at least another hour.

As Ellie passed the open door of Joe’s room, she glanced in and saw that his bed was made, so he was already up, too. She felt pleased. It would be nice to share an early morning cuppa while they planned their day together.

Maybe they could start with a breakfast of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon with croissants? And they could brew proper coffee and have an extra croissant with that new, expensive marmalade.

Joe might have other ideas, of course. He wasn’t in the kitchen, however.

Ellie turned on the kettle and went to the doorway while she waited for it to come to the boil. Almost immediately, she saw movement out in a paddock.

Joe?

She crossed the veranda to get a better view through the misty rain. It was definitely Joe out there and he was bending over a cow that seemed to be on the ground.

Ellie frowned. Most of her pregnant cows had calved, but one or two had been late to drop. She hoped this one wasn’t in trouble.

Grabbing a coat and Akubra from the pegs by the back door, she shoved her feet into gumboots and hurried down the steps and over the wet, slippery grass, dodging puddles in the track that ran beside the barbed wire fence.

‘Is everything OK?’ she called as she reached Joe.

He’d been crouching beside the cow, but when Ellie called he straightened. He was dressed as she was in a dark oilskin coat and broad-brimmed hat. In the dull grey morning light, his eyes were very bright blue.

Ellie had always had a thing for Joe’s eyes. This morning they seemed to glow. They set her pulses dancing.

‘Everything’s fine,’ he said. ‘You have a new calf.’

And now she dragged her attention to the cow and saw that she had indeed delivered her calf. It was huddled on the ground beside her, dark red and still damp, receiving a motherly lick.

‘Her bellowing woke me up,’ Joe said. ‘So I came out to investigate, but she’s managed fine without any help.’

‘That’s great. And now we have a little Christmas calf,’ Ellie said, smiling.

‘Yes.’ Joe smiled too and his gaze rested on her. ‘Happy Christmas, Ellie.’

‘Happy Christmas.’ Impulsively, she stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

He kissed her in reply—just a simple little kiss on her cheek, but, to her embarrassment, bright heat bloomed where his lips touched her skin.

Awkwardly, she stepped away and paid studious attention to the little calf as it staggered to its feet. It was incredibly cute, all big eyes and long spindly legs.

‘It’s a boy,’ Joe said, and almost immediately the little fellow gave a skip and tried to headbutt its tired mum.

Ellie laughed, but the laugh died when she saw Joe’s suddenly serious expression.

‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ he said. ‘I never asked what it was like—when Jacko was born.’

She felt winded, caught out. ‘Oh, God, don’t ask.’

He was frowning. ‘Why? Was it bad?’

You shouldn’t be bothering with this now. Not after all this time.

‘I know I should have asked you long ago, Ellie.’ Joe’s throat worked. ‘I’m sorry, but I’d like to know. Was...was it OK?’

Even now, memories of her prolonged labour made her wince. She’d been alone and frightened in a big Townsville hospital, and she’d been unlucky. Rather than having the assistance of a nice, sensitive and understanding midwife, the nurse designated to look after her had been brusque and businesslike. Unsympathetic.

So many times during her twenty plus hours of labour, Ellie could have benefited from a little hand-holding. A comforting companion. But she wouldn’t tell Joe that. Not now.

Especially not today.

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. ‘Most women have a hard time with their first.’

A haunted look crept into his eyes. ‘So it was tough?’

OK, so he probably wouldn’t give up without details. She told him as casually as she could. ‘Almost twenty-four hours and a forceps delivery.’

She wouldn’t tell him about the stitches. That would totally gross him out. ‘It was all perfectly normal in the end, thank heavens, but it had its scary moments.’

Joe looked away. She saw the rise of his chest as he drew a deep breath.

‘But it was worth it,’ Ellie said softly. ‘It was so worth every minute of those long hours to see Jacko.’ And suddenly she had to tell Joe more, had to help him to see the joy. ‘He was the most beautiful baby ever born, Joe. He had this little scrunched up face and dark hair. And he was waving his little arms. Kicking his legs. He had long feet, just like yours, and he was so amazingly perfect. It was the biggest moment of my life.’

You should have been there.

Oh, help. She was going to cry if she kept talking about this. Joe looked as if he was already battling tears.

It was Christmas Day. They should not be having this conversation.

Forcing herself to be practical, Ellie nodded to the new calf and its mother. ‘I’ll bring them some supplements later but, right now, I’m hanging out for breakfast. Are you coming?’

It took a moment for the furrows in Joe’s brow to smooth. He flashed a scant, uncertain smile. ‘Sure.’

‘Let’s hurry then. I’m starving.’

* * *

On the homestead’s back veranda, Ellie pulled off her gumboots and removed her hat and coat. Joe shouldn’t have been paying close attention. But, beneath the outdoor gear, she was dressed for Christmas in skinny red jeans and a frilly white top. Winking gold earrings swung from her ears and her dark glossy hair hung loose.

‘So I was thinking scrambled eggs and smoked salmon?’

Breakfast? With his emotions running high, Joe’s thoughts were on tasting Ellie’s soft pink lips and hauling her red and white deliciousness close. He wanted to peel her frilly neckline down and press kisses along the delicate line of her collarbone. Wanted to trace the teasing seams of her jaunty red jeans.

Yeah, right, Brainless. Clever strategy. You’d land right back where you started with this woman. Ruining her life.

‘Joe?’

He blinked. ‘Sorry?’

With evident patience, Ellie repeated her question. ‘Are you OK with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon?’

‘Sure. It sounds—’

‘Mummy!’ cried a high-pitched voice from inside the house. ‘Look, Mummy, look! A puppy!’

Ellie grinned. ‘Guess we’ll deal with breakfast in a little while.’

* * *

For Joe, most of Christmas Day ran pretty much to plan. Jacko loved his gifts—especially the little dog, and the colourful interlocking building set that Ellie had bought for him. The three of them enjoyed Ellie’s leisurely breakfast menu, and Joe and Ellie took their second cups of coffee through to the lounge room where they opened more presents from under the tree—mostly presents for Jacko from their respective families.

Ellie loved the fancy box of lotions and bath oils and creams that Steve Hansen’s wife had selected for her. And, to Joe’s surprise, she handed him a gift.

‘From Jacko and me,’ she said shyly.

It was very small. Tiny, to be accurate. Wrapped in shiny red paper with a gold ribbon tied in an intricate bow.

‘I know I said I didn’t have anything for you, Joe. I meant I hadn’t bought anything. This...this is homemade.’

Puzzled, he opened it and found a USB stick, a simple storage device for computers.

‘I’ve put all Jacko’s photos on there,’ Ellie said. ‘Everything from when he was born. I...um...thought you might like to—’

She couldn’t go on. Her mouth pulled out of shape and, as her face crumpled, she gave a helpless shake of her head.

Dismayed, Joe dropped his gaze and stared fiercely at the tiny device in his hand.

‘It’ll help you to catch up on Jacko’s first two years,’ Ellie said more calmly.

But Joe was far from calm as he thought about all the images this gift contained. Two whole years of his son’s life that he’d virtually ignored.

He saw that his hand was trembling. ‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly. ‘That’s—’

Hell, he couldn’t make his voice work properly. ‘I...I really appreciate this.’

It wasn’t enough, but it was the best he could do.

* * *

They phoned their families.

‘It’s bedlam here,’ Joe’s mother laughed. ‘Wall to wall grandchildren.’

‘Jacko loves the picture books you sent, Mum. And the train set from his cousins. They were a huge hit.’ The phone line was bad after all the rain and he had to almost yell.

‘We miss you, Joe. And we’re dying to meet Jacko, of course. Everyone sends their love. I hope you’re having a nice day, darling.’

‘We are, thanks. It’s been great so far. Everything’s fine.’

He and Jacko went into the lounge room and built a tall tower with the new blocks while Ellie phoned her mother. Joe had no intention of listening in, but she also had to speak loudly, so he couldn’t help but hear.

‘Harold gave you a diamond bracelet? How...how thoughtful. Yes, lovely. Yes, Mum, yes, Joe’s still here. No, no. No problems...No, Mum. Honestly, you didn’t have to say that. All right. Apology accepted. No, it doesn’t mean I’m giving in. Yes, we’re having beautiful seafood. One of Joe’s Army mates brought it out in a helicopter. Yes, I thought so. Very nice. And Happy Christmas to you, too!’

Ellie came back into the lounge room and pulled a heaven-help-me face. ‘I think I need a drink.’

‘Right on time.’ Joe grinned. ‘The sun’s well over the yardarm.’

They opened a bottle of chilled champagne and chose a CD by a singer they’d both loved years and years ago. And the music was light and breezy and the day rolled pleasantly on.

Jacko romped with his toy dog and played the new game of hide and seek, putting the dog behind cushions and then the curtains. Joe and Ellie made a salad with avocado, three kinds of lettuce and herbs. They set the dining table for lunch with the seafood platter taking pride of place. They added bowls for the crab shells and finger bowls floating with lemon slices.

They pulled bonbons that spilled rolled-up paper hats and corny, groan-worthy jokes. Jacko blew whistles and pulled crackers that popped streamers. The adults ate seafood and drank more champagne, while Jacko had orange juice and chicken. They laughed.

They laughed plenty.

Over plum pudding with brandy cream, while Jacko enjoyed ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, Joe told some of the funnier stories from Afghanistan. Ellie recalled the bush yarns the ringers had told around the campfire during last winter’s cattle muster.

Joe couldn’t drag his eyes from Ellie. She was glowing—and not from the wine. Her smiles were genuinely happy. Her dark eyes shone and danced with laughter. Even in an unflattering green paper hat, she looked enchanting.

And sexy. Dangerously so.

Seafood in the outback was a rare treat and she ate with special enthusiasm, sometimes closing her eyes and giving little groans of pleasure.

One time she caught Joe watching her. She went still and a pretty pink blush rose from the white frill on her blouse, over her neck and into her cheeks.

Watching that blush, Joe was tormented.

This truce was perilous. It was setting up an illusion. Messing with his head. Encouraging him to imagine the impossible.

* * *

After their long leisurely lunch, Ellie bundled a sleepy Jacko into his cot. The new black and white puppy, now named Woof, took pride of place next to his much-loved teddy bear. He was one very happy little boy.

On leaving his room, she found, to her surprise, that the dining table had already been cleared. Joe was in the kitchen and he’d cleared away the rubbish. He’d also rinsed their plates and glasses, and had almost finished stacking the dishwasher.

‘Goodness, Joe. The Army’s turned you into a domestic goddess.’ And a sex god, she thought ruefully. Or is it just too long since I’ve had a man in my kitchen?

Grabbing the champagne bottle from the fridge, Joe held it up with a grin. ‘Want to finish this? There are a couple of glasses left.’

Ellie smiled. She was loving everything about this Christmas. ‘It would be a crime to let those bubbles go flat.’

They took their glasses back to the lounge room. Outside, it was still drizzling and grey, but it was cosy inside with the coloured lights on the Christmas tree and a jazz singer softly crooning, and with Joe sprawled in an armchair, long legs stretched in close-fitting jeans and a white open-necked shirt that showed off his tan.