Adopted: Outback Baby

No doubt the cosy effect was completed by the marmalade cat curled in a sunny spot among fat cushions on the cane sofa beneath the window.

Jacob set the tray down beside a vase of red and cream flowers on an old timber chest that apparently served as a coffee table. A thick paperback novel had been left there and, beside it, elegant blue-framed reading glasses.

Nell wears reading glasses now.

He knew that shouldn’t bother him, but somehow he couldn’t help being saddened by such a clear marker of the passage of time.

The cat opened its pale yellow eyes and stared at him as he selected one of the deep and friendly armchairs and sat. Almost immediately, the cat rose, stretched its striped orange back, then leapt daintily off the sofa and crossed the floor to jump into Jacob’s lap.

As a general rule, he preferred dogs to cats and he eyed the animal dubiously as it balanced on his thighs, a small claw penetrating his denim jeans.

‘Don’t expect me to let you have this milk, mate.’

In response, the cat dropped softly into his lap, curled contentedly and began to purr, adding the final brushstroke to Jacob’s impression of Nell’s cottage as cosiness incorporated.

Unfortunately, he was particularly susceptible to cosiness. His childhood had been lonely. He and his mother had lived in a series of workers’ cottages on Outback properties and he’d longed for the permanence of a cosy family home. There had been several times during the past twenty years when he’d been on the brink of getting married simply so he could enjoy the pleasures of a comfy home and family life.

But whenever he’d come to the point of proposing marriage, something had always held him back—a vital, missing something.

‘Oh, heavens, Ambrose, what do you think you’re doing?’ Nell came into the room carrying a blue china teapot. ‘I’m sorry about the cat,’ she said. ‘Shoo, Ambrose. You should have sent him away, Jacob.’

‘I would have if he’d bothered me.’ Jacob watched the cat return to the sofa, tail waving sulkily. ‘Perhaps he’s mistaken me for your husband.’

A strange little laugh broke from Nell as she set the teapot down beside the tray. ‘No, I’m sure he hasn’t. Robert and Ambrose never got on.’ She looked flushed and avoided meeting his gaze, rubbed her palms down the sides of her skirt as if they were damp. ‘How—how do you take your tea?’

‘Black, no sugar.’

‘Oh, of course, I remember now.’

As she said this, she looked dismayed and he was dismayed too, suddenly remembering the camp fires down by the river when they’d made billy tea, hastily putting the fire out as soon as the water boiled so that the smoke wouldn’t give away their hiding place.

There was a tremor in her hands as she poured his tea and set the mug in front of him. She was nervous and he wanted to put her at ease.

‘This is a lovely home,’ he said. ‘Did you decorate it?’

Nell nodded and concentrated on pouring her own tea, adding milk and a half teaspoon of sugar.

‘You must have an artistic eye.’

‘Actually, I do seem to have a way with fabric.’ She smiled as she settled into the other armchair. ‘I make quilts and I sell them.’

‘You sell them?’

‘Yes. There’s quite a demand for my work, actually. It keeps me rather busy.’

Jacob swallowed his shock. But perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, apart from the gossip his mother gleaned from the social pages, he knew next to nothing about Nell Ruthven. He’d always supposed she was a carefree and idle society wife. One of those ladies who lunched.

But Nell Harrington, the girl he’d loved, had been crazy about poetry, an artistic soul.

‘Your husband must be very proud of you,’ he said cautiously.

Looking more nervous than ever, Nell picked up her mug of tea, then seemed to change her mind and set it down again.

‘How Robert feels about my quilting is irrelevant,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s not my husband any more.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘WE’RE divorced,’ Nell told Jacob in her quietest, most matter-of-fact voice. Even so, she could see his shock.

‘Why—’ He lifted a hand to his neck as if he wanted to loosen his collar, but he wasn’t wearing one. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday? I asked about your husband.’

With a heavy sigh, she said flatly, ‘You would have wanted to ask more questions. I couldn’t have coped just then.’ Embarrassed now, and tenser than ever, she chewed at her lip.

‘What about now?’ Jacob demanded. ‘Could you cope with questions now?’

Keeping her gaze fixed on the tea tray, she shook her head. ‘Don’t bother with the questions. I’ll tell you. Our marriage didn’t work. It was as simple as that. There was nothing nasty. Robert worked too hard and drank too much, but he never hurt me. We just drifted apart and I’ve been divorced for nearly a year.’

She tried to make light of it, but it wasn’t easy to shrug off. She could hardly admit that after losing Jacob she’d married the wrong man, that too late she’d realised that Robert had simply wanted her as a trophy wife. He’d been happy to be seen with her at all the important functions around Melbourne but, in the privacy of their bedroom, their relationship had never really clicked.

‘Robert had so many legal colleagues, we were able to settle things quite easily,’ she said. ‘It was all very straightforward and extremely civilised. The marriage might not have been a success, but the divorce was a triumph.’

‘What do you mean?’

Lifting her chin, she tried to smile. ‘I mean I’m now in charge of my life. For the first time ever, I’m independent and in control.’

Jacob nodded, but his eyes remained cold.

Embarrassed, she reached for her mug and took a long drink of tea. Her heart thumped and she held the mug with two hands so the tea didn’t spill. Perhaps it was too much to expect Jacob to understand why she’d stayed too long in an empty marriage, that after losing her daughter she’d desperately hoped to avoid another failure.

‘What about you?’ She forced the question. ‘Are you married?’

He shook his head. ‘Never tempted.’

There was a glint in his eyes which she quickly avoided.

‘I’m a well-seasoned bachelor,’ he said.

Was he telling her that he was available? A wave of heat rolled over her. For heaven’s sake. What on earth was the matter with her? Bending forward, she picked up the plate and offered it to him. ‘Biscotti?’

‘Not now, thank you.’ Jacob’s fingers drummed on the upholstered arm of the chair. ‘So you’ve already seen Tegan’s baby?’

‘Yes, he’s a lovely little fellow. He must be about seven weeks by now.’

‘Seven weeks? They’re still pretty small at that age, aren’t they?’

She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Yes, quite small. Why?’

‘Oh, I can’t help being curious about what Jean wants to discuss. It’s obviously something to do with Sam.’

Nell nodded. ‘He must be a handful for Jean, especially when her husband’s so incapacitated.’

‘What’s the matter with her husband?’

‘He had a stroke last April.’

‘Poor man. They are certainly going through a terrible time.’ Jacob’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. ‘So will you be taking any interest in Sam?’

‘What makes you ask that? Of course I’m interested in him. He’s my grandson.’

His eyes were cold. ‘You weren’t interested in his mother.’

He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d tripped her, sending her flat on her face. ‘How dare you?’

‘It’s the truth, Nell. You gave Tegan up for adoption.’

‘Not me—’

Jacob steamrolled over her protest. ‘And for nineteen years that poor girl was led to believe that I couldn’t give a damn about her.’

To Nell’s dismay, Jacob leapt to his feet and towered over her.

‘You’ve deprived me of my daughter. Why on earth did you do that, Nell?’

‘You know that’s not fair.’ Her hands fisted so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to leap to her feet too, but how ridiculous that would be. A sparring match. ‘Have some pity,’ she cried, looking up at him. ‘You don’t know what happened. You don’t know what I’ve been through.’

He stood with his hands clenched at his sides, his jaw jutting at a stubborn angle.

With calm emphasis on each word, Nell said again, ‘You don’t know what happened.’

Jacob’s mouth opened as if he was about to burst out with another angry accusation, but as he stood there, staring at her, she could see that her words were taking hold. The anger in his eyes lessened, confusion returned.

Sinking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he looked chastened. ‘I’m sorry. I was just letting off steam.’ He returned to the armchair, lifted the mug of tea and stared at it. ‘Can you tell me exactly what happened?’

Nell couldn’t hold back a despairing sigh. ‘I can’t believe you think I could willingly give my daughter away.’

‘Our daughter.’

‘Yes, Jacob. Our daughter.’

He set the mug down. ‘Until Tegan wrote to me, I didn’t even know you’d given birth. Later, when I’d heard you and your husband referred to as childless, I assumed you’d had a miscarriage. Or an abortion. I thought there was even a chance that you’d never been pregnant at all, that you’d been mistaken.’

Nell swallowed. ‘I’m so sorry you never knew.’

‘Believe me, so am I.’ He shifted forward in his chair, eyed her levelly. The muscles in his throat worked. ‘I can’t help feeling cheated.’

‘I know,’ Nell said softly. She’d felt cheated too—cheated out of motherhood. But at least she’d known where Tegan was, that she was safe and happy. ‘I didn’t give Tegan away, Jacob. You must remember what my parents were like.’

He watched her with calculated wariness. ‘I know your father held a gun to my head. I know he forced my mother and me to leave Half Moon without collecting our wages.’

‘And he sent me down here to Melbourne to a private Home for unmarried mothers.’

The hardness fell from Jacob’s face. ‘All the way down here?’

‘Yes.’

‘No wonder I couldn’t find you.’

‘Did you try to find me?’

‘Of course I tried. I was desperate to find you. We’d planned to be married, remember?’

His eyes shimmered and Nell’s heart stumbled.

‘I couldn’t find you either,’ she admitted. ‘I tried, but I wasn’t allowed many phone calls from the Home. I tried again after Tegan was born. I rang everyone I could think of. Someone mentioned that you’d gone interstate, but no one knew where. You and your mother just disappeared into the Outback.’

When he made no comment, she felt compelled to ask, ‘Do you believe me, Jacob?’

He nodded grimly. ‘My story’s much the same. I went to your university. I found people who knew you, but they couldn’t tell me where you were.’

‘I never went back to university.’

A shuddering sigh escaped him. He cleared his throat. ‘So was Tegan born here, in Melbourne?’

‘Yes. I won’t burden you with details, but it was a difficult birth and I was in a bad way afterwards. They kept me heavily sedated.’

Jacob swore softly.

‘When my parents gave me papers to sign, I didn’t understand that I was giving the baby up for adoption.’

‘But that’s criminal.’

Choked by memories, Nell nodded again. She’d relived that day countless times. ‘I thought I was just signing papers for the baby’s birth certificate.’

It hurt to talk about this. A sob burned her throat but she stumbled on, needing to tell him everything. But, more than anything now, she wanted to share with him her precious memories of their daughter.

‘Tegan was gorgeous, Jacob. When she was born, she was so tiny and perfect and cute. She had such a sweet face. Gorgeous dark eyes—a bit unfocused, of course. And her little pink fingers were curling over the edge of her blanket and she had the most perfect miniature fingernails.’

Avoiding the pain in his face, she closed her eyes. Don’t cry. It won’t help anyone if you cry. She drew a deep breath. ‘I didn’t know that was the last time I would see her.’ She drew another breath for courage. ‘They told me they were putting her in some kind of foster care until I was fully recovered.’

‘Nell.’

‘I broke down completely when I realised what I’d signed, but the nurse in charge just whacked me with more sedatives.’

‘How could she?’

‘It was twenty years ago. Anything could happen if someone paid enough money.’

A growl of rage broke from him.

‘Afterwards, Mum and Dad whisked me back to Queensland and no one ever told me that I had thirty days to change my mind about the adoption. As soon as I was strong enough, I left Half Moon, but by the time I got back down here it was too late to reclaim Tegan.’

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