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‘I hope you realise how very grateful I am,’ he said. ‘Honestly, the way you’ve taken care of the twins has been amazing. Fantastic. It can’t have been easy—being dumped with everything after … after Chelsea …’
Holly nodded. ‘There have been some grim moments, but each day gets better.’
Gray wondered, somewhat anxiously, about the ‘grim moments’. He sat for a bit in silence, wrapped in worried thoughts as they drank their coffee.
‘How’s your ankle?’ Holly asked politely.
‘Oh, it’s fine.’ He pulled a face, remembering the exasperation of the floods, and then the further frustration of his accident. ‘You have no idea how maddening it was not being able to get here any sooner.’
She let out a soft huff. ‘I’ll admit it wasn’t easy at this end, either, trying to convince Anna and Josh that you were held up all that time by floods.’
‘I’m sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you couldn’t help it, and you did the right thing when you asked me not to tell them about the accident. They’d just lost their mom. They would have been devastated if they’d heard their dad was hurt, too.’
‘I wouldn’t have been much use to them on crutches.’
‘Imagine your journey home,’ Holly agreed, smiling. ‘Twenty-something hours on a plane and trying to manage six-year-old twins while you’re hobbling on a cast.’
‘Exactly.’ Gray sat forward, eager to voice the question that had been plaguing him. ‘So—how do you think Anna and Josh will cope with going back to Australia with me?’
He hoped she would answer with an easygoing shrug and a quick reassurance.
They’ll be fine. They’re over the worst now.
To his dismay, she dropped her gaze to her coffee cup and twisted it in her hands.
His throat tightened uncomfortably. ‘I thought my place—somewhere completely different—might help them. Might be a … a distraction.’
Holly looked up again and, when her dark eyes met his, she was frowning. He saw no hint of reassurance.
He spoke again quickly, needing to strengthen his case. ‘This apartment must hold so many sad memories for the children. Won’t it help them to get away?’
Her mouth opened again as if she was going to reply, but then she hesitated.
Gray’s entire body tensed. ‘You agree, don’t you?’ He forced an awkward shrug. ‘I admit you know my children better than I do. I’d value your opinion.’
She responded with a faint smile. ‘I certainly hope they’ll be fine, but I can’t promise it’s going to be easy, Gray. I’m no expert, but from everything I’ve read—’
‘Everything you’ve read?’ He felt himself tense. As a cattleman who’d always relied on purely practical skills, he was sceptical about the glorified merits of the written word.
Perhaps Holly sensed his doubt. Her cheeks flushed deep pink but, when she spoke, she lifted her chin and her dark eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve never had any first-hand experience of grief, certainly not with helping children who’ve lost a parent. So I consulted a GP who referred me to a psychologist, and I’ve done some reading, too. After all, the books are written by experts.’
The skin on the back of Gray’s neck grew hot. Not quite meeting her gaze, he said, ‘So what did the experts have to say?’
Holly set her coffee mug on the table with exquisite care, as if it were a rare antique. ‘It seems that children who’ve suffered a loss can benefit from a predictable routine and structure. The familiarity of a routine helps them to feel secure.’
A predictable routine.
Structure.
Security.
Gray’s heart sank. Predictability and security were scarce commodities in the Outback. Cattlemen and their families lived at the mercy of the elements, or at the whim of fluctuating markets. Daily, they dealt with the problems caused by isolation and vast distances.
He recalled all the things his ex-wife had hated about his lifestyle, and he thought about his experience over the past three months—being cut off by the floods, almost running out of supplies, busting his leg in a flooded river.
Doubts crowded in. What was he doing here? How could he take his kids away from this safe and secure world that they knew and loved?
Abruptly, he stood and strode to the window where he dipped a slat in the blinds with one finger and stared down at the crowded pavements and busy traffic below.
Without looking at Holly, he said grimly, ‘If the experts in your books are right, the last thing my children need is another big change.’
Unhappily, he folded his arms over his chest and his jaw jutted belligerently. ‘I’m planning to drag Anna and Josh halfway across the world to a place that’s completely different from here, and your book-writing experts are telling me it’s the worst thing I can do.’
CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment, Holly was seriously tempted to tell Gray that yes, his children would be much better off if they stayed right here in Manhattan. Of course they’d be happier if they were allowed to continue in this familiar environment—living in this apartment, going to their highly acclaimed school, playing with their select circle of appropriate friends.
For three months she’d been trying to follow the psychologists’ advice. She’d built little rituals into the children’s days so they always had something to look forward to.
She’d carefully planned mealtimes around their favourite nutritious foods, and she’d scheduled regular after school treats. Of course, she’d made sure that bedtime was special with their favourite stories. And plenty of hugs.
But she couldn’t suggest that Gray would not be able to meet his children’s needs. She’d witnessed his deep emotion when he’d first greeted his children, and she could see the incredible tension in his face right now as he waited for her answer.
Gray wasn’t just a proud, possessive male reclaiming his rights. He was a man who loved his children very deeply. Chelsea’s parents had told her that over the past three years he’d made the arduous journey from Australia to America several times a year, just to see them.
Holly knew that her possibly selfish opinions about the benefits of staying in America had no place in this conversation.
She drew a deep breath. ‘Anna and Josh want to be with you, Gray. You’re their father.’ After a beat, she added gently, ‘They’ve missed you very much.’
His face softened a fraction. ‘But it’s still going to be hard for them to leave here and to make the change, isn’t it?’
She couldn’t deny this. ‘You should probably be prepared for one or two tricky moments.’
‘I was hoping that if I stayed in New York for a few days, and gave them a chance to get used to me again—’
‘I’m sure that will help. And, while you’re here, we can both talk to them about what to expect on the journey and when they arrive in Australia.’
Gray nodded, and let his thoughtful gaze fix on the row of windows on the opposite wall, as if he was seeing far into the distance. Then he sent Holly a slow smile.
Despite the fact that Holly was thinking about Gray’s children and not his looks, something very odd happened to her insides. She dropped her gaze from the sudden flare in his light blue eyes and found safety in the tan leather duffel bag, dumped on the floor by the sofa.
It was the sort of bag that would look at home on a dusty homestead veranda, or in the back of a battered pickup. Here, in this city apartment, however, the scuffed leather holdall looked out of place, almost like a symbol of everything that had been wrong about Gray’s marriage to her cousin.
Chelsea had rarely talked about the problems that had sent her scurrying home from Jabiru Creek to New York. It was clear to everyone that her decision had been painful—that she hadn’t stopped loving Gray, but that she’d loved her ballet and choreography more. There’d been no jobs for a choreographer of Chelsea’s calibre in Outback Australia and, in the end, she’d found it too difficult to relinquish her city life and her career.
She’d told Holly once, ‘It was a fatal attraction. Gray and I were wrong for each other and in almost every way. I think we both sensed from the start that our marriage was doomed, but our feelings were so intense we still had to give it a try.’
Now, sitting mere metres from Gray Kidman’s intensely masculine presence, Holly was all too aware of the force that had urged Chelsea to take that risk. He was still disturbingly attractive. Looking at him, the word manly seemed to take on new meaning.
Abruptly, she jumped to her feet. ‘If you’ve finished your coffee, I’ll show you to your room and you can stow your things away.’
She charged across the room, feeling a need to put a sudden distance between them.
‘Holly, before you go—’
Slowly … she turned.
Gray offered a dangerously shy smile. ‘I know I’m probably old-fashioned and you’re a contemporary New Yorker, but I just wanted to make sure you’re completely okay with having me stay here in your apartment.’
‘Of course. It’s perfectly fine.’ Holly tried to sound offhand. ‘It makes sense.’
‘And your boyfriend? Is he cool with it, too?’
A horrible knife-in-the-heart pain pierced Holly, the pain she always felt whenever Brandon was mentioned. After two months, the shock was still very raw—especially the painful discovery that Brandon had been seeing Maria Swain for six whole months before he’d found the courage to tell her.
Somehow she forced a breezy smile. ‘That’s not a problem. I’m between boyfriends right now.’
Not wanting to see Gray’s reaction, she hurried on to the spare room. ‘It’s important for you to stay here, Gray.’ She tossed the words over her shoulder. ‘You need to maximise your time with the children before you set off.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’
At the doorway, she stepped aside to let him into the room. ‘It’s nothing special, but I guess it’s adequate.’
‘It’s terrific.’ Gray dropped his bag onto the rug at the foot of the single bed. Holly was about to leave when he said, ‘What about you, Holly?’
‘Me? Oh … my room’s … um … just down the hall.’
Gray looked a tad embarrassed and scratched at the side of his jaw. ‘I wasn’t asking where you sleep. I meant—what are your plans now—once the children are off your hands.’
‘My plans? Oh …’ Holly gulped. Talking to this attractive man about bedrooms must have scrambled her powers of thinking. ‘I’ve just finished my final exams, so I’ve started sending out job applications. Who knows where I’ll end up?’
With luck, anywhere except Vermont.
Taking three quick steps backwards, she added, ‘Right now, I need to fix lunch.’
‘Anything I can help with?’
‘No, thanks. It’s only chicken salad. You go and see the children. Join in their game.’
Gray suggested a trip to Central Park after lunch. He always felt more at ease entertaining his children in wide open spaces with grass and trees and blue sky overhead, instead of pavement and department stores and hurrying crowds.
This time, Holly came with them.
Initially Gray hadn’t invited her. He’d assumed she’d be keen to grab a few hours of freedom to paint her toenails, or go shopping, or whatever city girls liked to do when they had time to themselves.
Just as the children and he were about to leave the apartment, however, Holly had handed him a pamphlet.
‘This shows you everything that’s going on in Central Park,’ she’d said.
Gray had dismissed this with a quick, ‘We’ll be fine.’
Even though he was only familiar with a tiny section of Central Park, he could find the zoo, and the carousel. Anna and Josh had never complained. ‘We’ll play it by ear, won’t we, kids?’
Holly looked surprised and she tapped a brightly coloured centre page. ‘But this pamphlet lists all the children’s activities. And there’s a puppet theatre.’
‘Puppets!’ Anna and Josh both squealed in chorus. ‘We want to see the puppets. Please, Daddy, please!’
Holly was still pointing to the printed page and Gray felt the first squeeze of panic. The words on the pamphlet danced and jumbled before his eyes and his chest tightened as frustration and inadequacy—two foes he’d been fighting all his life—surfaced.
‘Why don’t you come along with us?’ he asked her then. ‘And bring your pamphlet.’
Her cheeks turned pink—a very pretty pink, a perfect foil for her dark eyes and her shiny dark hair. The blush surprised Gray. Perhaps she was shyer than he’d realised.
‘Yes, Holly, come with us,’ Anna was pleading and grabbing her hand. ‘Please, come. Please!’
Holly shook her head. ‘But this is your special time to be with your daddy.’
However, she didn’t need much convincing.
‘Would you like me to try for last minute tickets for the puppets?’ she said next and already she was pulling her cellphone from her pocket.
They were in luck. There were four tickets available for the last performance that afternoon and when they set off for Central Park Gray noticed that Holly’s shyness was quickly evaporating.
It was soon clear that she genuinely liked to spend time outdoors with his children. She laughed a lot and her eyes shone, and she looked somehow just right in slim blue jeans and a simple grey T-shirt, with her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and her face free of make-up.
He thought, uneasily, that his children were really going to miss Holly when it was time to leave. He couldn’t help noticing how totally relaxed they were with her. Affectionate, too. Josh was perfectly happy to hold her hand when they crossed the busy streets, and Anna, all excited after a super-fast slippery slide, exchanged ecstatic high fives with Holly. The gesture was so automatic and natural Gray knew they’d done this many times.
And Holly’s pamphlet proved to be a great asset. It showed where the really cool playgrounds were, like the Ancient Playground based on the Egyptian Temple of Dendor, with model pyramids for climbing. And after the children had climbed and run and explored the zoo and thrown Frisbees and eaten ice creams, they all headed off to the puppet theatre in an old Swedish cottage.
The show turned out to be lively and hilarious, full of drama and excitement and silly pranks that were impossible not to enjoy.
All the children in the audience were encouraged to call out advice and warnings, so they practically lifted the roof off the ancient cottage. So very different from the serious, respectful hush of the audiences at the ballets Chelsea had dragged him to.
At one point, Gray glanced over Anna and Josh’s heads and caught Holly watching him. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and he realised he’d been laughing out loud.
Strewth. When was the last time that had happened?
They emerged from the theatre in the late afternoon, and together they strolled through the park in the softening light of the late spring evening. The children skipped ahead, wide smiles on their faces as they imitated the Big Bad Wolf, playing hide-and-seek behind tree trunks.
His kids were okay. They were happy. And Gray discovered that he was completely and totally relaxed. He hadn’t realised how tense he’d been, but now, for the first time since he’d received the shocking news about Chelsea, he was conscious of having truly unwound.
‘You shouldn’t have to cook again tonight,’ he told Holly. ‘Why don’t we eat out? My shout.’
She laughed. ‘I was going to suggest grabbing a meal on the way home. We have a tradition of eating out at our favourite diner on Saturday nights.’
A tradition? Gray wondered uneasily if Anna and Josh would miss these traditions. Would they be willing to help him create new traditions? He couldn’t take them to a diner near his Outback home. The nearest café was a hundred kilometres from Jabiru Creek. Could a campfire on a riverbank be a reasonable substitute?
