Читать книгу Christmas Brides And Babies Collection - Rebecca Winters - Страница 29

After faint …

‘WHERE DID YOU come from?’ Maeve opened her eyes. Barely raised her voice because her throat was closed with sudden tears. She kept her head down. Couldn’t believe she’d fainted and thrown up as a first impression. Well, he shouldn’t have appeared out of nowhere.

‘America. Earlier this week. You’re pregnant!’

Der. ‘Does Simon know?’

‘That you’re pregnant?’

She sighed. Her head felt it was going to explode. Not so much with the headache that shimmered behind her eyes but with the thoughts that were ricocheting around like marbles in her head. Just what she needed. A smart-alec answer when she had a million questions.

Awkwardly she sat straighter and shifted her bottom on the seat in an attempt to stand. Frustratingly she couldn’t get enough purchase until he put his hand down and took hers.

She looked at his brown, manly fingers so much larger than the thin white ones they enclosed. Rayne was here. She could feel the warmth from his skin on hers. Really here.

He squeezed her fingers and then pulled steadily so she floated from the car like a feather from a bottle. She’d forgotten how strong he was. How easily he could move her body around. ‘I assume you caught me when everything went black?’

‘Thank goodness.’ She looked up at the shudder in his voice. ‘Imagine if I hadn’t.’

She instantly dropped her other hand to her stomach and the baby moved as if to reassure her. Her shoulders drooped again with relief.

‘You’re pregnant,’ he said again.

Now she looked at him. Saw the rampant confusion in a face she’d never seen confusion in before. ‘I told you that. In the letters.’

His face shuttered. A long pause. ‘I didn’t open your letters.’

Maeve was dumbstruck, temporarily unable to speak. He hadn’t opened her letters? The hours she’d spent composing and crunching and rewriting and weeping over them before she’d posted them. Wow!

That explained the lack of reply, she thought with a spurt of temper, but it also created huge questions as to just how important she’d been to him. Obviously not very. Not even being locked away in prison had been enough to tempt him to open her letters. She felt the nausea rise again.

He’d refused to talk to Simon too and she knew her brother had been hurt about that. He had hoped for some reassurance from Rayne that somewhere there was an explanation.

The guy was lower than she thought. She needed to protect Simon from being upset a day after his happiest day. That was a real worry. Or a diversion for her mind.

She tried to compose herself, get her thoughts together …

‘I don’t think you should see Simon until I can warn him you’re back.’

Rayne straightened. Lifted his chin. ‘I’m not going to hide.’

‘It’s not about you.’ She could feel the unfairness expand in her. This was not how she dreamed their first meeting would be. Why couldn’t he have warned her he was coming? Given her a chance to have her defences sorted? Dressed nicely? Put her make-up on, for goodness’ sake? She’d just walked out of the house in her expander jeans and a swing top. And trainers. She groaned.

‘Are you okay?’

She looked up. Saw the broad shoulders, bulging muscles in his arms, that chest she’d dreamt of for three quarters of a year. He was here and she wanted to be scooped up and cradled against that chest but he wasn’t saying the right things. ‘You can’t see Simon yet. He’s just got engaged. He’s happy. I won’t let you do that. You’ve upset him enough.’

He’d upset her too, though upset was an understatement. Hurt badly. Devastated. But then you reappeared at the right moment, a tiny voice whispered. The exact right moment. Just in time.

She saw a flicker of pain cross his face and she closed her eyes. What was she doing? Why was she being like this? Was she trying to drive him away?

She needed to think. It overwhelmed her that Rayne was here. As if she’d conjured up him by her need this morning and now she didn’t know what she should think. And he hadn’t known she was pregnant!

Rayne was having all sorts of problems keeping his thoughts straight. He could see she was at a loss too. ‘Maeve!’

‘What?’

He needed to know. Couldn’t believe it but didn’t want to believe it was someone else. ‘Are you pregnant with my baby?’

She hunched her shoulders as if to keep him out. ‘It’s my baby. You didn’t want to know about it.’

He pulled her in close to him and put both arms around her. Lifted her chin to look at him. ‘For God’s sake, woman.’ Resisted the urge to shake her. ‘Are you pregnant with my baby?’

‘Yes. Now let go of me, Rayne.’ His loosened his fingers. Felt her pull away coolly. Create distance between them like a crack from a beautiful glacier breaking away from its mountain, and his heart, a heart that had been a solid rock inside him, cracked too.

Maeve turned her back on him and climbed awkwardly into his car. The realisation that she couldn’t protect Simon from this shock forever hit her.

‘Come on. Let’s get it over with. You need to see Simon and then we need to talk.’

Simon came out of the house when the car pulled up and a petite blonde woman followed him. Rayne remembered now that Maeve had said Simon was engaged. This would be some first introduction.

Rayne climbed out and walked around to open the passenger door; he glanced at his old friend, who looked less than pleased, and then back at the woman’s hand he wanted to hold more than anything else in the world.

For an icy moment there he thought she wasn’t going to allow him that privilege—right when he needed her most—but then she uncurled her closed fist and allowed her fingers to slide in beside his. By the time Simon had arrived she was standing beside him. Solidarity he hadn’t expected.

‘They let you out?’ There was no Christmas spirit in that statement, Rayne thought sardonically to himself, though couldn’t say he could blame him, considering Maeve’s condition.

He stared into Simon’s face. Felt the coolness between them like an open wound. ‘I wanted to explain.’ He shrugged. ‘It just didn’t happen.’

‘Instead, you slept with my sister.’

‘There’s that.’ To hell with this.

He just wanted it over. Tell Simon the truth. Let Maeve know at least the father of her baby wasn’t a criminal. At the very least. Then get the hell away from here because these people didn’t deserve him to infect their live with the disaster that seemed to follow him around.

‘When my mother died there wasn’t a reason for me to be in there any more. She told them the truth before she overdosed and they dropped the charges.’

Maeve’s breath drew in beside him. ‘Your mother died?’ Felt her hand, a precious hand he’d forgotten he still held, tighten in his. She squeezed his fingers and he looked down at her. Saw the genuine sympathy and felt more upset than he had for the last horrific year. How could she be so quick to feel sorry for him when he’d ruined her life with his own selfishness? That thought hurt even more.

‘You took the rap for your mother!’ Simon’s curt statement wasn’t a question. ‘Of course you did.’ He slapped himself on the forehead. Repeated, ‘Of course you did.’

He didn’t want to talk about his mother. Didn’t want sympathy. He spoke to Simon. ‘I understand you not wanting me here.’

He forced himself to let go of Maeve’s hand. ‘Take Maeve inside. She fainted earlier, though she didn’t fall.’ He heard Simon’s swift intake of breath and saw the blonde woman, from hanging back, shift into gear to swift concern.

He felt Maeve’s glance. Her hand brushed the woman’s gesture away. ‘No. We need to talk.’

‘I’ll come back later when you’ve had a chance to rest. I’ll find somewhere to stay for tonight.’

And give myself a chance to think, at least, he thought. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a piece of paper on which he’d written his number. ‘This is my mobile number. Phone me when you’ve rested.’ And then he spun on his heel and walked away from the lot of them, wishing he had warned them he was coming, though he wasn’t sure it would have gone over any better if he had.

Well, they knew the truth now. He’d done what he’d come to do. Learnt something he’d never envisaged and was still grappling with that momentous news. He allowed himself one long sweeping glance over the woman he had dreamed about every night, soaking in the splendour that was Maeve. Her breasts full and ripe for his child, her belly swollen and taut, and her face pale with the distress he’d caused her.

Maeve allowed Tara to steer her back inside, up the hallway to her bedroom, because suddenly she felt as weak as a kitten. Simon was still standing on the street, watching the black utility disappear down the road with a frown on his face, but she’d worry about Simon later.

An almost silent whistle from Tara beside her drew her attention as she sat down on her bed. ‘So that’s Rayne. Not quite what I imagined. A tad larger than life.’ Tara squeezed her arm in sympathy. ‘You look pale from shock.’

Maeve grimaced in agreement. Glanced at Tara, calm and methodical as usual as she helped her take off her shoes. ‘It was a shock. And highly embarrassing. Not only did I faint but then proceeded to throw up in front of him.’

She felt the assessing glance Tara cast over her. ‘For a very pregnant lady you’ve had a busy morning and it hasn’t really started yet.’

It was barely seven o’clock. ‘Lucky I got up early. It was supposed to be a gentle Christmas morning walk for Simon’s newspaper.’

‘The shop won’t be open. But your Rayne is a Christmas present with a difference.’ Tara laughed. ‘What was it you said when you described him to me? A head taller and shoulders like a front-row forward and those dark eyes. No wonder you fell for him, boots and all.’

A fallen woman. And still in love with him, boots and all. ‘Is it mad that even after ten minutes with him after all this time, I wanted to go with him? That I feel like we’ve been together for so much more than one night? That I can even feel that when he’s just been away? When even I know that’s too simplistic and whitewashed.’

She saw Tara look towards the bedside table, cross to her glass of water and bring it back for her. ‘Even from where I was standing, I could feel the energy between you two. I wouldn’t be surprised if Simon felt it too.’

‘Thanks for that, at least.’ She took a sip of water and it did make her feel a little clearer. ‘Problem is, I was okay to sleep with but not okay to tell that he was going to prison.’

‘Well.’ Tara looked thoughtful. ‘It seems he has got an explanation if he took the blame for his mother. And things are different now. He can’t just walk away and think you’ll be better off without him without even discussing it.’

She touched Maeve’s shoulder in sympathy. ‘And you have been carrying his child. So I guess at least a part of him has been with you since then.’ Tara gave her a quick hug. ‘He looks tough and self-sufficient but doesn’t look a bad man.’

She knew he wasn’t. From the bottom of her heart. ‘He’s not. I believe he’s a good man.’ She stroked her belly gently. ‘I have to believe that if he’s going to be part of our lives. And until this …’ she patted her belly again ‘… Simon wouldn’t hear a wrong word said about him.’ She glanced at Tara and smiled to lighten the dramatic morning. ‘And we both know Simon has good taste.’

Tara blushed but brushed that aside. ‘Did he say he wants to be a part of your lives?’

In what brief window of opportunity? ‘We didn’t get that far. What with me fainting like a goose at the sight of him.’ Maeve shook her head. Thought about it. ‘He said he hadn’t opened my mail. That he didn’t know I was pregnant.’ She thought some more. ‘But he didn’t look horrified when I told him.’

‘Helpful. Though why he wouldn’t open your mail has me puzzled.’

Me, too. ‘I’ll be asking that when he comes back. And it’s Christmas morning.’ She suddenly thought of the impact of her commotion on everyone else’s day. That’s what Lyrebird Lake did to you. Made you begin to think more of other people. ‘I hope it doesn’t spoil your first Christmas with Simon. I feel like I’m gatecrashing your engagement celebrations with my dramas.’

‘Nothing can spoil that.’ A lovely smile from Tara. ‘I’m just glad we’re here for you. No better time for family. And Simon will be fine.’

Tara had said family. The idea shone like a star in a dark night sky. It was a good time for family. Tara had probably meant Simon’s family but Maeve was thinking of her own. Rayne and her and their baby as a family.

To Maeve it had felt like she’d been marking time for Rayne to arrive and now he was here he was her family. As long as he could handle that idea. Well, he’d just have to get used to it.

She heard Simon’s footsteps approaching and as he paused at her bedroom door Maeve felt his assessing glance.

She looked at him. ‘Rayne went to gaol for his mother! That’s what he’d come to tell you that night.’

Simon nodded. ‘So it seems. Fool. He didn’t get around to it and if he had I would have tried to talk him out of it. I’m not surprised he didn’t rush into an explanation. He knew I would have told him that taking the blame for his mother wouldn’t help her at all.’

What kind of man made that sort of sacrifice without flinching? Actually, her man. ‘He went to prison for her. Lost his job and his reputation.’ And me, she thought, but didn’t say it. Well, he hadn’t lost her yet.

Simon rubbed the back of his head. ‘That news just makes me more angry with him. But I’ll get over it.’ He rubbed again. ‘Obviously I’m still battling with the idea I didn’t suspect Rayne would do that. Now it’s glaringly obvious. So I let him down too.’

He put his finger up and pointed at her. ‘Maybe you should do what he suggested. Lie down. You’re as pale as a ghost and the family won’t be here for another two hours for breakfast.’

Maybe she would. Because she had plans for tonight. ‘I want Rayne to spend Christmas with us.’

Simon didn’t look as surprised as she’d thought he would. He glanced at Tara and Maeve caught the almost imperceptible nod between them. ‘Thought you might—just don’t rush into anything,’ was all he said.

Rayne threw his duffle bag on the floor of the sparse hotel room and himself onto the single bed on his back. He’d had to knock on the residence door to ask if they were opening today. The guy had said not officially and let him in. Given him a room and said he’d fix him up tomorrow.

Rayne pulled the packet of letters from his pocket and eased open the first one. Started to read about Maeve’s pregnancy. After ten minutes, and an aching, burning feeling in his gut, he loosened his belt and lay down on the bed. His mind expanded with images, good and bad, of his time with Maeve and what she’d gone through because he hadn’t been there for her. He couldn’t stomach it. He searched for something else to think about until he got over the pain.

He reached his hands arms up behind his head and sighed. One thing about prison, you lost your finicky ways about where you could sleep.

It was a typical country pub. With typical country hospitality, seeing he could be sleeping on a park bench if they hadn’t let him in.

Squeaky cast-iron bedframe with yellowed porcelain decoration in the middle, thin, lumpy mattress, used-to-be white sheets and a wrinkled bedspread. A hook for clothes and a bathroom down the hall to share, except that no one else was such a loser they were in there for Christmas.

He wouldn’t be here long. Wasn’t sure he should be in Lyrebird Lake at all. But thank God he’d come.

Maeve was having his baby. Maeve, who was anything but ‘little Princess Maeve’. How the hell had that happened when they’d been so careful?

Funnily, he didn’t even consider it could be anyone else’s because the dates matched and after what they had shared—Lord, what they had shared in one incredible night—if a persistent sperm was going to get through any night that would be the one. He half laughed out loud—a strangled, confused noise—thankful that nobody else would hear or care about it.

A ridiculous mix of horror that a child had been dumped with him for a parent, regret at how distressed Simon must have been at his supposed friend’s perfidy, ghastly regret that Maeve had had to face Simon without him and spend a pregnancy without his support.

But on top, like a life-raft shining light in the dark ocean, was an insidious, floating joy that glorious Maeve had kept his child and he was going to be a father. And she’d held his hand in front of Simon.

Though the next steps held a whole bag of dilemmas. What was he going to do about it? What could he do about it? Of course he would support them, money wasn’t a problem. Hell, he’d buy her a house and put it in her name, or the baby’s name, whatever she wanted. But what else?

Suddenly his whole world had changed, from that of a lost soul who hadn’t been able to help his own mother—the one person he’d tried so hard to save—to a social pariah without any commitments and little motivation to slip back into his previous life, and now to a man with the greatest responsibility of all. Protecting another woman, keeping in mind he hadn’t been able to save the last one, and this time his child as well, was something which scared him to the core.

Of course, that was if they could possibly work something out, and if she’d let him, but at least she wanted to talk. He wasn’t so sure Simon wanted to and he really couldn’t blame him.

It was a lot to take in. And a lot to lose when you thought you’d already lost it all.

Maeve saw Rayne arrive because she was standing at the window of her bedroom, waiting. It was nine-thirty and everyone had arrived for breakfast and the huge pile of family presents were to be opened after that.

She shook her head as the black car stopped, so antique it was trendy again, big and bulky and mean looking, very James Dean, I’m a bad boy, Rayne really needed to get over that image. Especially now he was going to be a father. She smiled ironically through the window. Though if Rayne had a son her child would probably love that car as he grew up.

She turned away from the window and glanced at the mirror across the room. So it seemed after only one sight of Rayne she was thinking of her child growing up with him.

She saw her reflection wincing back at her. The worried frown on her brow. Saw the shine reflected on her face and she crossed the room to re-powder her nose.

Was she doing the right thing, going with her feelings? she thought as she dabbed. Should she believe so gullibly that there might be a future with Rayne? Take it slowly, her brother had said. Maybe Simon was right.

She reapplied her lip gloss. At least she’d been the first point of call as soon as he was free, and that had been before he’d known she was having his baby.

Or was she having herself on. Maybe it was Simon, his best friend from his childhood, not her he’d really come to see. He had travelled across the world last time for a conversation with Simon that hadn’t happened. This morning he’d just seen her on the side of the road first.

When it all boiled down to it. how much did Rayne know about her or could care after just one night? One long night when they hadn’t done much talking at all.

Nope. She wasn’t a stand-out-in-the-crowd success story.

With a mother who expected perfection and three older, very confident sisters, she’d always wanted to shine in the crowd. Had hidden her shyness under a polished and bolshie exterior that had said, Look at me, had forced herself to be outgoing. Maybe that was why her relationships with men had seemed to end up in disaster.

Once they’d got to know her and realised she wasn’t who they’d thought she was.

That was her problem. Being the youngest of five very successful siblings, she’d always seen herself falling a little short. But finally, when she’d settled on midwifery, incredibly she’d loved it. But her job had gone down the tube with this baby for a while yet—so she’d blown that too.

The hardest thing about Rayne walking away without a backward glance had been those voices in her head saying it had been easy for him to do that. Too easy.

She turned away from the mirror with a sigh. And then there was Rayne’s consummate ease in keeping the whole impending disaster of his court appearance and sentencing from her.

But what if she had the chance to show him the real woman underneath? Maybe he’d show her the real man? Maybe it could work because there was no doubting physical chemistry was there in spades between them. Or had been before she’d turned into a balloon. They’d just have to see if that was enough to build on with their child.

She slid her hand gently over the mound of her stomach and held the weight briefly in her palm.

You are the most important person, baby, but maybe your daddy just needs to have someone with faith in him to be the perfect father. And I do have that faith and he’ll have to prove otherwise before we are going to be walked away from again.