Читать книгу Christmas Brides And Babies Collection - Rebecca Winters - Страница 30

Christmas Day

RAYNE PULLED UP outside the place Maeve had called the manse. The phone call had come sooner than he’d expected. Apparently he was down for family breakfast and lunch. He wasn’t sure if could mentally do that but he’d see how it turned out.

As he gently closed the door of the car he glanced at motorised nodding animals in the Christmas manger on the lawn and shook his head. There was a little straw-filled crib with a tiny swaddled baby in it, and for a minute he thought it was a real baby; rubbed his eyes and, of course, it was a doll. He was seeing babies everywhere. Not surprising really.

But there were definite adoring looks and nods from the mechanical Mary and Joseph, and the three wise men and those crazy manger animals nodded along.

He could imagine during the weeks leading up to Christmas it wouldn’t be unusual for children to drop by on the way home from school to check out the display.

He’d sort of noticed the display but not really when he’d been here earlier. He stopped for a moment and took in the full glory of the scene. Geez. Now, that was schmaltz with a capital S.

It was so over the top, with the solar mini-train circling the yard carrying fake presents, the fairy-lights all over the house and around the manger, and the giant blue star on the main building roof, totally the opposite of Maeve and Simon’s mother’s idea of colour-coordinated, understated elegance. Or his own poor mother’s belief it was all a waste of time.

Imagine a family who was willing to put that much effort into decorations that only hung around for a month and then had to be packed away again. He couldn’t help but speculate how much they’d be willing to put into things that were really important.

It was so hard to imagine that sort of close-knit caring. The kind he’d seen between Maeve and Simon’s family every time he’d visited their house.

He’d always told Simon he was lucky, having two families and six sisters, and Simon had said he could share them as long as he didn’t chat them up.

Well, that one had been blown out of the water with Maeve, he thought with a grimace, though he and Maeve hadn’t done much chatting.

He sighed. Pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chin. Started to walk again. Not something to be proud of. Well, that’s what he was here for. To make right what he could. Maeve had said they needed to talk but he wasn’t so sure Simon was going to come to the party.

The front screen door opened and Simon met him as he came up the steps. And held out his hand. There was a definite welcome there he hadn’t expected. Holy hell. Rayne’s throat burned and he swallowed.

Simon shrugged and smiled. ‘Can’t say I’ve been happy but it is good to see you.’ Then he stepped in and hugged him.

Rayne’s choked throat felt like someone had shoved a carpenter’s wood rasp down his neck, not that he’d ever cried, even when he’d buried his mother, so it was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling, but he hadn’t expected this. He gripped Simon’s hand so hard his friend winced and he loosened his fingers. Dropped the handshake.

‘Um. Thanks. That was unexpected.’

‘I’ve had time to cool down. And I’m sorry about your mother.’ A hard stare. ‘You taking the blame for her is something we’ll talk about another time.’

His throat still felt tight. He so hadn’t expected this. ‘Maeve is incredible.’

Simon snorted. ‘Or incredibly stupid. We’ll see which one.’ He shrugged, definitely warmer than earlier that morning, and gestured to the door. ‘Now come in. It’s Christmas and you’re about to meet the rest of the family. By the way, my dad knows all about you.’ Simon raised his brows.

Raised his own back. ‘Nice.’ Not. Rayne glanced over his shoulder at the road but there was only his car on the street. He’d hoped as there were no other cars he could come and go before the family arrived.

Simon must have seen his look because he said, ‘Everyone walks most places around here. They’re all out the back.’

They walked through the house down a central hallway, past some mistletoe he needed to avoid unless Maeve was there, with at least three rooms each side, and into a large kitchen, heavily decorated for Christmas, complete with multi-coloured gifts under the tree. At the kitchen bench a tiny, round, older lady with a Santa hat on her white hair was carving ham slices onto a plate. The young blonde woman he’d seen earlier that morning was piling fried eggs onto another carving plate.

‘This is Rayne, Louisa. My grandmother, Rayne.’

The older lady looked up and glowed at Simon and then with twinkling eyes skimmed Rayne from head to toe with apparent delight. ‘Maeve’s mystery man. You are very welcome, my dear. And just in time for breakfast. Merry Christmas.’

Just in time for breakfast? His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t even thought about food. She was a jolly little thing and jolliness had been hard to come by lately. He couldn’t help a small smile. ‘Merry Christmas to you.’

Simon’s voice warmed even more. ‘And this divine being is my fiancée, Tara. Tara’s a midwife at the birth centre and has been looking after Maeve’s pregnancy since she arrived. If you’re good, we might even invite you to our wedding.’

‘Hello, Rayne. Welcome. Merry Christmas.’ And Tara, a much younger small blonde woman with wise eyes, smiled a smile that said, I know how hard it is for you at this moment. And, incredibly, he actually believed her. Now, that was strange.

Tara handed him the heaped plate. ‘Take this out with you when you go, could you, please, and try to find a spot on the table for it.’

He took the plate and she gestured Simon to a basket of rolls, which he obligingly picked up right after he’d kissed her swiftly on her mouth. She laughed and shooed him off and Rayne looked away. He couldn’t ever imagine being so easy with Maeve.

There was a brief lull in the conversation when they opened the screen door out into the back yard, but Rayne had spotted Maeve and the voices were fading anyway as his eyes drank in the sight of her.

Damn, she looked amazing in a red summer dress, like a ripe plum, the material ballooned over her magnificent belly and shimmered when she shifted. A green Christmas scarf draped her gorgeous shoulders. She looked like his fantasy Mrs Santa Claus and he had to hold himself back as Simon introduced him to his other family.

A tall, powerfully built man crossed to them. He put his hand out to Rayne and he took it. Shook firmly and stepped back. Yep. That had to be Simon’s natural father. Same mouth and nose. A chip off the old block, and he reminded him of an army major he’d know once. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir.’

‘Angus, not sir. And I understand you’re a paediatrician?’

‘Not for nearly a year.’

‘Maybe we’ll get a chance to talk about that while you’re here. You could think of having a breather here while you settle back into some kind of routine.’

Not likely. He already wanted to run. ‘Perhaps.’

A vivacious redhead swooped in and gave him a hug. He tried awkwardly to return it but he’d never been a hugger. Her head only came up to his chin. ‘Merry Christmas, Rayne. I’m Simon’s stepmother, Mia.’

She stepped back and waved to two young miniatures of herself at the table. ‘And our daughters Amber and Layla. So there will be nine of us for breakfast.’

It felt like a lot more but, really, the only person he wanted to talk to there was Maeve, who was watching him with an enigmatic expression, and it looked like they’d have to eat before he’d get any chance of that.

Tara and Louisa brought the last two plates and they all began to sit at the long table under the tree, but as he crossed to Maeve she moved towards the table as if she felt more confident there. With definite intent he held her chair and then settled himself beside her.

He glanced around and hoped nobody could see he really didn’t want to be here, then he pulled himself up. It was Christmas.

One of the little girls said grace, and he acknowledged the nice touch, especially as he would have been stumped if someone had asked him, and the table groaned with food. He hadn’t seen this much food since that Christmas at Simon’s all those years ago.

When grace was over he turned to Maeve. She was why he was here. Funny how Simon had slipped back into second place, though it was good to see him too. His only friend in the world, and he’d thought he’d lost him.

But Maeve. She looked even better up close. Much more colour in her cheeks than earlier. He lowered his voice because he imagined she wouldn’t want to draw attention to the fact she’d fainted that morning. ‘Are you okay?’

A brief glimpse of her confusion as she looked at him. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Fine as in Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?’ He tried a poor attempt at a joke.

A longer look. ‘They been showing you movies in there?’

He felt his face freeze. His body go cold with the memories. ‘No.’

Then he saw the distress that filled her eyes and her hand came across and touched his. Stayed for a second, warmed him like an injection of heat up his arm, and then shifted back to her lap. ‘I’m sorry. It was a stupid joke.’

‘Ditto. From another movie.’ He forced a smile. ‘It’s fine.’

Her face softened. ‘You sure? You know what “fine” means?’

He so didn’t want to play, even though he’d started it. ‘How long do we have to stay? I need to talk to you.’

She glanced around to make sure nobody had heard. It wasn’t a problem because everyone was talking and laughing full steam ahead and the little girls were bouncing in their seats. Maeve’s eyes softened when she looked at them. ‘Until after the presents, and then I don’t have to be back here until this afternoon.’

‘So you’ll come with me for a couple of hours. Talk in private? Sort what we can?’

He felt her assessing look. ‘We can do that. Not sure how much we can sort in a couple of hours. As long as you get me back here before Christmas lunch at three o’clock. I promised to make the brandy sauce.’ She glanced under her brows at him. ‘I can cook when I feel like it, you know.’

‘Oh. I know.’

It was all still there. Maeve could feel the vibration of chemistry between them. Just an inch or two between her skin touching his skin and even then his heat was radiating into her shoulder in waves without the contact. And all this at the Christmas breakfast table in front of Simon’s family.

How could this man make her so aware of every part of her body, and why him? He curled her toes, made her nipples peak, her belly twist and jump, and that was without the baby doing its own gyrations in there. It was darned awkward and the only consolation was he didn’t look any more comfortable than she was.

But this was way more important than incredible sex. This was about the future, and even she had to admit she hadn’t given the future a thought last time they’d been together. He’d been pretty adamant there hadn’t been a future if she remembered rightly, though she had expected a little more pillow talk the next day rather than him being marched away by federal police.

She caught Tara’s concerned eyes on her and shrugged. She’d be okay. Early days yet. But to think that this morning she’d been crying into her pillow, wanting him to be here for the birth, and here he was within an inch of her. It was a lot to take in. And she couldn’t help the tiny beam of light that suggested she’d been given a blessing to be thankful for.

Someone asked her to pass a plate of tomatoes. There was a lot of eating going on all around them and she and Rayne hadn’t started yet. Maybe they’d better.

Rayne must have thought the same because he passed her the ham and she took a small piece, glanced at his plate, and saw at least he was preparing to be fed. Then he passed her the eggs and she took one of those as well. Though she didn’t feel like putting anything into her mouth. Her belly was squirming too much.

People were putting their knives and forks together and sitting back. Leaning forward again and pouring coffee and juice. Maeve reached over and brought the rolls over in front of her, gave one to Rayne and one to herself without thinking and then realised she was acting like an old housewife looking after her husband.

He lifted his brows and smiled sardonically at her and she shrugged. ‘Enjoy.’ Reminded herself that she’d been a confident woman the last time he’d seen her and she needed to keep that persona even more now she was fighting for her baby’s future. But what if she wasn’t enough? What if he still left after their talk today? Surely he wouldn’t leave this afternoon after just getting here.

‘How long can you stay around here?’

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Good timing at least. ‘When is the baby due?’

‘Tomorrow.’

His face paled and she thought, Tell me about it, buster, I’m the one who has to do it. ‘But I expect I’ll go overdue. Does it matter what date?’

He shook his head, clearly rattled by the impending birth. Put his fork down. Couldn’t he see her belly looked like it was about to explode?

Then he said quietly, aware that a few ears were straining their way, ‘I have no commitments, if that’s what you mean.’

She sniffed at that. ‘You do now.’

He glanced around the table. Saw Simon and his father watching them. ‘I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be here. It’s the least I can do.’

If only he hadn’t added that last sentence. The relief she’d felt hearing him say he’d stay as long as she needed him was lost with the tone of sacrifice. Before she could comment, and it would have been unwise whatever she’d been going to say, at the very least, he touched her hand.

‘Sorry. That came out wrong. It’s just that I’m still getting used to you expecting a baby. And this table is killing me.’

Just then Mia stood up. ‘The girls want to know how long before everyone is finished.’

Maeve pushed her plate away thankfully. ‘I’m done.’

Rayne stood up. ‘Let me help clear.’ And he began very efficiently scraping and collecting plates, and she remembered him rinsing his plate at Simon’s house.

At least he was house-trained, she thought with an internal smile as she began to gather up side plates, probably a lot more than she was. It was a warming thought that maybe there was stuff that they could do for each other, maybe there were things they could share between them that they’d find out and enjoy as well.

Within a very short time the dishwasher was loaded, the leftovers were stowed in the fridge and the kitchen clean. The big sunroom area of the back room at the end of the kitchen had been cleared when the kitchen table had gone outside and the Christmas tree was surrounded by lots of presents, as well as chairs and cushions so everyone had a niche to perch to watch the fun.

Simon had Tara on his lap, Mia and Angus were sitting with Louisa on the lounge they’d pulled in, and the girls were hopping and crawling around the tree as they shared out the presents one at a time.

Everyone sat except Rayne. He leant against the wall to the left of Maeve so he could watch her face, and he knew she wished he’d take the chair Simon had offered and sit down next to her. But he didn’t. He didn’t deserve to be a part of the circle. Felt more of an outsider than he ever had, despite the efforts of others. It was his fault he felt like that and he knew it. Just couldn’t do anything about it.

He watched Simon take a present from the eldest child and hand it solemnly to Tara. When she opened it he saw her eyes flash to Simon’s, saw the tremulous smile and the stroke of her finger down the painted face of the Russian doll. Those dolls that had other dolls inside. This looked like a very expensive version of those.

Cute. But a strange present to give. Though he had no idea about giving presents himself. He frowned, realising he should have thought about that on the way here. He didn’t have any to give.

Tara didn’t seem to know about the tinier dolls inside and Simon laughed and showed her how they came apart and another pretty painted doll was removed from the centre. And another and another. Until there was a dozen little painted dolls in a line along the arm of the chair. Simon’s little sisters had eyes wide with wonder and he suspected there was a little moisture in Tara’s eyes, and even Maeve’s. He was missing something here.

Maeve shifted her body so she was closer to him and gestured for him to lean down.

‘Tara’s parents died when she was six. So she was in an orphanage until she grew up. Since then she’s never owned a doll.’

Damn! No wonder she understood a little of his awkwardness on arrival. He wasn’t the only one who’d had it hard. He’d always been grateful his mum had stayed straight long enough to keep him out of care. Even though he’d been the one doing the caring at home. At least it had been his home and he had had a mother.

The present-giving moved on and Maeve was given a little hand-made wheatpack, a drink bottle with a straw, and a pair of warm socks as comfort aids for labour, and they all laughed.

He watched Maeve smile and thank Tara, but the little twitch in her eyelid made him wonder just how calm the woman having his baby really was about the approaching birth.

His own uneasiness grew with the thought. It wasn’t like neither of them didn’t know a lot about birth. He’d been at many, but mostly he had been the paediatrician there for Caesarean babies or other newborns at risk.

And Maeve had done her midwifery so she was well versed in what would happen. But it was a bit different when it was this close to home. There were those other times when the unexpected happened.

He really needed to talk to her about that. He glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes since last time he’d looked at it. Not too bad. And then it was over. The paper was collected, hugs were exchanged and everyone sat back. Louisa asked about fresh coffee or tea and Maeve shifted to the edge of her chair. He put out his hand and helped her up.

Her hand felt good in his. He tightened his grip.

‘We’re going for a drive.’ She said it to the room in general and there was a little pause in the conversation. Then she looked at Louisa and smiled. ‘I’ll be back by two-thirty to make that brandy sauce.’

Simon groaned. ‘Make sure you are. That sauce is to die for.’ Everyone laughed again and Rayne wondered, with dry amusement, if he really was the only one who got the warning directed their way.

Louisa said, ‘Hold on for a minute.’

And Maeve shrugged and said, ‘I’ll just go to the loo before we go.’ He thought they’d never get away.

Then Louisa was back with a small basket. Quickest pack he’d ever seen. ‘Just a Thermos of tea and a cold drink. Some Christmas cake and rum balls in case you get hungry.’

He looked at her. ‘I’m pretty sure nobody could be hungry leaving this house.’ Looked at her plump cheeks, pink from exertion. Her kind eyes crinkled with the pleasure of giving her food. ‘Thank you.’ He lowered his voice so that nobody else heard. ‘I was going to take Maeve to the seats by the boatshed. This is perfect.’

She held up a finger. ‘One more thing, then.’ And within seconds was back with a small brown paper bag. ‘Bread scraps for the ducks.’

He shook his head. He had never ever met anyone like her. ‘You are my new favourite person.’

Then Maeve came back and he tucked the paper bag into his pocket so he could take her hand and carried the basket in the other.