Читать книгу Mctavish And Twins - TRISHA DAVID - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

MIKE McTAVISH...

How many times had Erin said that name aloud to herself when she was fourteen? For weeks she’d been in a daze of teenage ecstasy, thinking and dreaming of nothing but Mike McTavish. She remembered saying his name as a mantra to put herself to sleep and practising her signature as Erin McTavish, Erin McTavish, Erin McTavish—but now every time Mike’s name ran through her mind she was conscious of nothing but anger.

The children sat beside her in the truck as Erin drove the short distance to the McTavish farm, their eyes staring straight ahead and their expression stoic.

It would be easier to cope with tears, Erin thought grimly. This bleak resignation was breaking her heart.

What sort of hard-hearted toad had Mike McTavish become? He and his precious Caroline.

The McTavish farm was just past Erin’s grandpa’s. ‘We’re neighbours,’ Erin smiled. ‘That means I’ll be able to see you heaps. I’m staying here for ages.’

‘Why?’ Laura asked, her tone implying that Erin was mad to even think of living here.

‘Because my grandpa’s old and he needs me,’ Erin said softly. ‘And I love my grandpa.’

‘Not like us,’ Laura said bleakly and turned away. ‘We don’t love anybody. Except...except each other.’

‘You don’t think you could love your uncle Mike?’

‘We might,’ Laura said bitterly. ‘But he says he can’t look after us on his own—so he’s marrying Aunt Caroline.’

End of conversation. Nothing else was said until they turned into the McTavishes’ gate.

Erin hadn’t visited the McTavish house before, but she’d seen the house from the road and little had changed in ten years. The McTavishes were ‘old money’—part of what the Australian establishment called the ‘Squatocracy’. The McTavish forebears had been squatters generations ago, wealthy Britons taking up huge tracts of rich farming land and handing their wealth on to their children and their children’s children.

The children’s children hadn’t squandered their wealth. The McTavish homestead was long and low and gracious, set in beautiful gardens with mature oaks giving blessed shade from the summer sun. It was the biggest house in the district. It was the biggest farm.

And it seemed Laura and Matthew had been missed.

As Erin’s truck and trailer pulled into the yard the front door of the house burst open and a woman came striding quickly down the verandah steps towards them.

It didn’t take the children’s automatic bracing beside her to know this was the feared Aunt Caroline. The woman was older than Erin’s twenty-four years—closer, in fact, to Mike’s thirty—and somehow Caroline was just how Erin had imagined her.

Erin knew women like this. What Caroline wore was almost a uniform in upper crust rural circles—a uniform the same almost everywhere in the world.

Everything about this woman was oh-so-carefully casual. She wore designer jeans and her silk shirt fell softly open at the throat to reveal a single strand of pearls. A silk scarf casually tied back her immaculately sculpted, shoulder-length hair and her oh-so-chic sunglasses were pushed up from her beautifully made-up face.

And her face, underneath the expensive cosmetics, was cold and angry.

The woman ignored Erin. She cast one disdainful look at Erin’s truck as she strode towards it, saw the children and reached up to haul the passenger door open. Matthew and Laura instinctively cringed against Erin.

‘Oh, you naughty children.’ The woman’s voice was carefully modulated but it was razor-sharp for all that. ‘Where on earth have you been? Your uncle’s wasted half the morning out scouring the country and we were just about to call the police.’ She fixed them with a look of dislike. ‘How dare you cause us such trouble? Your uncle will be so angry!’

‘Hi,’ Erin said loudly across the children’s heads.

‘You must be Aunt Caroline. I’m Erin O’Connell.’

The woman cast Erin a look that put Erin firmly in her place—obviously way down in the animal kingdom wedged somewhere between a bedbug and a maw-worm.

‘Thank you for bringing the children home,’ she said briefly. She glanced at Erin again, taking in the state of Erin’s clothes, and her delicate nose wrinkled in distaste. ‘I suppose you want something for your trouble.’

Ugh! A tip to the lowlife...

‘You’re dead right I do,’ Erin snapped. ‘I want to see the children’s uncle.’

‘If you wish to see someone then you can see me,’ Caroline snapped back. ‘I’m their aunt.’

‘Not yet, you’re not.’ Erin smiled her sweetest smile. Once upon a time women like this had been able to make Erin quail, but not any more. ‘Until you marry their uncle I assume you’re not the children’s legal guardian, and that’s who I need to speak to.’

The woman stared.

This was aristocratic reaction to the news that the peasants were revolting, Erin thought with grim amusement, and looked down with a rueful smile at her soiled jeans and T-shirt. In fact, Erin had to admit that this peasant was extremely revolting! Smelly to go with it.

It couldn’t be helped. Erin waited calmly to see what the woman would say.

She never found out. There was a sudden sound of frantic barking, two collie dogs flew out from behind the machinery shed to investigate the strange truck on their property—and behind them strode Mike McTavish.

Mike stopped dead when he saw the truck, and as the farmer saw Laura and Matthew in the cab Erin saw his face slacken with relief.

As Erin’s face froze...

Mike McTavish...

Erin stared, and somewhere around her heart she felt a sickening jolt. It seemed that the ghost of fourteen-year-old Erin still had the power to hurt. Mike McTavish was just the same as Erin remembered—only more so!

The farmer had the build of someone who pumped weights, but this man hadn’t built his muscles in a sweaty gymnasium. He’d built his muscles from heaving hay-bales and working constantly on the land. The McTavishes had money, Erin knew, but this man obviously didn’t sit back and expect the hired help to do his hard work for him.

He was older, of course—ten years more mature than the Mike McTavish she remembered. His face had become weathered from a life spent outdoors, and the hardworking image was deepened by the rough moleskins, open-necked khaki shirt and heavy work boots he wore.

Erin blinked and blinked again as her heart gave the same lurch she remembered. She still remembered the sensation when a youthful version of this man had walked across the dance floor—all those years ago.

Mike was still blatantly good-looking. His deep brown unkempt hair showed traces of bleaching from the harsh Australian sun and his farmer’s eyes were creased from the same bright glare—but he was still the same Mike McTavish...

For heaven’s sake, get a hold on yourself, Erin told herself harshly. Somehow she forced herself to move, jumping down from the truck and moving swiftly round so she was between children and both uncle and aunt.

‘Mr McTavish,’ she said softly, ignoring the horrible Caroline completely and holding out her hand.

Mike stopped five feet from Erin. He stared, his dark eyes taking in Erin from the tip of her stable-mired boots to her roughly tied back mass of chestnut curls.

‘I don’t think I know you,’ he said slowly.

I’m not sure I want to, his gaze seemed to imply, and Erin flushed. He showed not the least sign of recognition, and that in itself hurt. She could cope with Caroline’s nasty tongue more easily than this man’s frank uninterest.

She caught herself, fighting down a mounting blush. Mike McTavish’s gaze had moved past her to the children in the truck. Ignoring Erin’s extended hand, he took a step forward. But Erin would have none of it. Her body blocked his path.

‘Mr McTavish, I’m Erin O’Connell...’

Mike’s attention was no longer on Erin at all. It was all on the children.

‘Laura...Matt...are you okay? You’re not hurt?’ His voice was hoarse with worry.

And in that moment Erin forgave Mike McTavish for not recognizing her. There was sheer, raw anxiety in the farmer’s desperate question, and she realized he’d ignored her solely from concern for the twins.

Neither child answered. Mike was looking straight past Erin, practically pressing against her, and it took all Erin’s resolve to continue blocking his path.

‘They’re fine,’ Erin told Mike quickly, glancing back at the children’s white little faces. Her body was hard against the open passenger door and Mike McTavish was so darned close... ‘They’re just tired, stressed and—and very, very unhappy.’

Mike’s gaze carefully studied both children, searching their faces himself for assurance that what Erin had said was true.

Finally he looked back down to Erin, his extra height making her feel tiny.

‘Who did you say you were?’ he demanded, finally reassured she was telling the truth. He took a step back—but he was still too close. ‘You sound... American.’

‘Half-American, half-Australian.’ Erin smiled. ‘I’m Erin O’Connell. My grandpa owns the farm next door.’

‘O’Connell...’ Mike’s brow cleared, relief deepening. This was a relative of a neighbour, bringing his children home. Not so bad after all. He looked at her more closely. ‘Did they...? Were they on your place?’

‘They were two miles down the road,’ Erin told him, her smile fading. ‘Walking dead centre of the road on a blind curve. I nearly hit them.’

Mike flinched. The farmer closed his eyes, as if in pain. Beside him, the woman called Caroline had grown silent, her eyes cool and watchful.

Finally Mike McTavish opened his eyes and looked down at Erin again.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and the gentleness Erin remembered so well was there in force. He smiled, a weary smile that still had the power to light his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ he repeated, and his eyes smiled directly into hers with all the warmth Erin had carried in her heart for so long. ‘For driving carefully and for bringing them home safely.’ He shook his head, wondering. ‘I drove down the lanes round here looking for them, but I couldn’t believe they’d gone so far. I decided they must be trying to cut across paddocks, so I’ve had the farm bike out searching cross-country.’

‘They were very determined,’ Erin said. ‘They tell me they were making for Sydney.’

Once again there was a look of raw pain flashing across Mike’s face.

‘Of course.’ His eyes still held hers but any trace of a smile was completely gone. ‘Sydney was their home before—before my brother and his wife were killed. But they can’t go back.’

‘The twins explained that to me.’ Erin was acutely conscious of the children behind her, listening to every word. She’d promised the children she’d speak up for them and they were waiting for her to carry out her promise.

So do it, she told herself firmly, searching for the right words. Just do it!

‘I believe both the children understand their home’s been sold,’ she continued finally, her soft voice tremulous in the farmyard stillness. ‘But they were desperate.’

‘Desperate?’ Mike’s face was confused.

‘The children ran away because you cut Laura’s hair,’ Erin managed. For some reason it was difficult to get each word out—it was so desperately important to make Mike see the children’s hurt. ‘Their parents loved Laura’s hair and told her she should leave it long. Last night you cut it. Both Laura and Matthew felt it more than if you’d beaten them. I believe—I believe you were wrong to cut it. I think you owe Laura an apology, and if she wants to grow her hair long again she should have your full support.’

Caroline’s breath hissed in.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the woman whispered, casting an uncertain glance at Mike. ‘What gives you the right...?’

‘What gives you the right?’ Erin demanded, her eyes flashing fire. If she couldn’t hug these children as she wanted, at least she could fight their battles for them. ‘Laura didn’t want her hair cut. Would it have hurt so much to leave it long?’

‘Michael has enough to do in the mornings without combing the b...the child’s hair.’

‘Were you going to say brat?’ Erin asked slowly.

‘No.’ It was Mike again, his voice heavy. He placed a hand on Caroline’s silk-clad shoulder, stilling her with the gesture. ‘Of course she wasn’t.’ He sighed. ‘How do you know all this?’ he asked Erin, and the pain was still in his voice.

‘The twins told me,’ Erin said gently. ‘They told me when I asked. I think—I think they’re desperate to have an adult on—on their side.’

It was a direct hit and it went home hard. Mike winced.

‘Caroline meant this for the best,’ he said slowly, his eyes flicking into the truck to the twins. ‘Laura’s hair has been tangled and I don’t cope with it very well. I can’t make it look like her mother did.’

‘Does that matter so much?’

‘I guess...’ Mike stared helplessly down at her, a man right out of his depth.

Erin gave a rueful smile. This situation needed cheering up—fast. It was altogether too grim for words.

Okay. So think fast, Erin, she told herself.

And her smile deepened as she figured what to do.

She did a half-pirouette so that she had her back to the big farmer and she was facing the twins. She gave them both a reassuring wink. ‘My hair took ten seconds to brush this morning,’ she confessed, still with her back and her wayward pony tail to Mike. ‘It’s tied back with a bit of hay band. Is it so bad?’

She smiled at the twins again, pirouetted back to face Mike McTavish and tilted her chin, defying him with her eyes.

The farmer’s grim expression faded. Mike McTavish’s lips twitched. His eyes took in Erin’s disreputable hair, her dancing eyes, and then slowly took in the rest of her.

It was as if he was seeing Erin for the first time—and his eyes told her he very much liked what he saw.

‘I guess...I guess it doesn’t look too bad,’ he said slowly, and his eyes reflected her laughter.

‘Laura could do her hair this way all by herself,’ Erin said firmly. She pirouetted again to face the children and twinkled. ‘Couldn’t you, Laura? Matt could tie it for you. I bet you could even persuade Aunt Caroline to buy you some ribbon instead of hay band. If you grow your hair long again, Laura, would you mind if it’s as messy as mine?’

Both children gazed at Erin, considering. Erin’s hair was certainly not beautifully groomed. It was a mass of chestnut curls, escaping from her hay band in errant wisps all over her face.

‘I like it,’ Matthew said finally, removing his thumb and casting a scared, defiant look at Caroline.

‘It’s got straw in it.’ Laura managed a smile. ‘And...and I think there’s a bit of dry horse dung stuck at the back. But it still looks pretty.’

‘There.’ Erin’s eyes danced with laughter. She faced Mike again. ‘Even with horse dung, your problem’s solved.’

‘But Michael doesn’t want the children looking like tramps,’ Caroline snapped, fury getting the better of her.

Erin’s laughter faded—and slowly she turned to face Caroline’s hostility head-on. ‘Is that what I look like?’

‘Since you. ask, yes. You look like you haven’t washed for weeks.’

‘Caroline...’ Mike’s grip on Caroline’s shoulder tightened, and his face closed as if he’d like to haul back the words his fiancée had spoken.

They were impossible to haul back.

There was a moment’s dreadful silence. Mike and the twins all looked as though they expected Erin to explode—and then Erin’s lips twitched again as her sense of the ridiculous sprang to her rescue.

‘I’ve met a few tramps who’d take personal affront at the comparison with messy me.’ She smiled, allaying Mike’s dismay with her chuckle. Her eyes danced up at his. ‘I doubt if horse dung’s everyone’s ideal hair decor. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve spent most of this morning mucking out stables.’

She faced Caroline again and managed to maintain her smile in spite of the woman’s transparent disdain. ‘I’d love to wear silk scarves and pearls to work,’ she smiled. ‘But I just bet my horse would try to eat them. You must have a more appreciative audience than I have.’

Caroline’s jaw dropped about a foot.

The woman sure didn’t have a sense of humour. The look Caroline was directing at Erin said plainly that she thought Erin was mocking her. She thought the lowlife was thumbing its nose at its social betters!

Well, maybe she shouldn’t have commented on Caroline’s appearance, Erin thought ruefully. It just sort of slipped out before she could stop it.

So behave yourself, Erin, she told herself firmly. Be careful.

Then she hesitated. Erin blocked out Caroline’s transparent fury as she considered how to make her point to Mike. This was important.

She tilted her chin yet again and met his look with defiance, a half-smile returning to her lips. It was a smile of entreaty.

‘If I’d stopped to shower and change clothes, I would have been late for my grandpa and made him worried—as I’m worrying him now,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t do that. But the kids are important. These two are worth worrying Grandpa for. It’s all...it’s all a matter of priority. How important is it to you that Laura is immaculate?’

‘It’s not,’ Mike said softly.

And then, before Erin knew what he was about, she was lifted by the waist by Mike’s strong hands and moved bodily aside. Mike leaned into the cab and gathered the two frightened children into his arms. His broad shoulders accommodated them both with ease as he lifted them clear.

‘You heard what Erin said, kids,’ he told them gently. ‘Erin’s grandpa is worried because she’s late, so we’ll let her go.’ He turned to Erin again, the children held tight in his arms. ‘Thank you again for bringing them home, but we’ll take care of them now,’ he said softly. ‘Believe me.’

Erin met his look. She took a deep breath. ‘I promised—I promised I wouldn’t leave here unless I knew no one would be angry with the children.’

‘No one’s angry,’ Mike said gently, holding them close. ‘Are we, Caroline?’

Caroline sure was. She’d clearly enjoy horsewhipping the American lowlife at the very least, but the look on Mike McTavish’s face checked her. With a discernible effort the woman forced herself to speak.

‘Of course not. I mean—not at the children.’ She cast Erin a look of glittering dislike.

‘Laura will be permitted to grow her hair?’ Erin demanded. If ever she was going to achieve something for the twins, now was the time.

‘Of course she can,’ Mike said heavily. He cast an unsure glance at Caroline. ‘Caroline...I mean, we thought we were acting for the best, but maybe...maybe we should have talked it over first.’

There was no mistaking the reproof behind the words, and Caroline didn’t like it one bit.

‘That’s just fine.’ Erin smiled before Caroline could answer. She walked round to the driver’s door of her truck and hesitated. ‘I also promised the twins I’d ride over and see them tomorrow. Is that okay?’

‘There’s no need...’ Caroline was almost speechless.

‘There is a need,’ Erin said firmly. ‘I promised.’

‘Of course you can come.’ Mike was almost totally occupied with his armload of children but he flashed her a smile that held. It was exactly the same smile that had knocked Erin’s socks off all those years ago. ‘You’ll be very welcome.’

Erin flashed a look at Caroline’s livid face.

‘I’ll just bet I won’t be.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘But I’ll come just the same.’