скачать книгу бесплатно
The breath jammed in her throat and she leant against the doorframe that had supported her last night. Needed it even more now.
Simon was saying, ‘What the hell? Rayne? This has to be a mistake.’
‘No mistake. Just didn’t get time to explain.’ Rayne glanced across as Maeve entered and shut his eyes for a moment as if seeing her just made everything worse. Not how she wanted to be remembered by him.
Then his thick lashes lifted as he stared. ‘Bye, Maeve,’ looked right through her and then away.
Simon glanced between the two, dawning suspicion followed swiftly by disbelief and then anger. ‘So you knew they’d come and you …’ He couldn’t finish the sentence. Sent Maeve an, ‘I’ll talk to you later’ look, but the federal policemen were already nudging Rayne towards the door.
Simon was still in the clothes he’d left in last night so he hadn’t been home long. Rayne was fully dressed, again in sexy black, and shaved, had his small cabin bag, so it looked like he’d been downstairs, waiting. She would never know if it was for Simon or the police.
She wondered whether the police hadn’t come he would have woken her to say goodbye. The obvious negative left her feeling incredibly cold in the belly after the conflagration they’d shared last night and her epiphany this morning.
He’d said he was going and wouldn’t be back for a while but she’d never imagined this scenario.
Then he really was gone and Simon was shaking his head.
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_966786dc-00d0-5edc-b6eb-b5f63368176b)
Nine months later.
Looking for Maeve.
RAYNE’S MOTHER DIED of a heroin overdose on the fifteenth of December. He was released from prison the day after, when the posted envelope of papers arrived at the Santa Monica police station, and he put his head in his hands at his inability to save her. The authorities hadn’t been apologetic—he should have proclaimed his innocence, but he’d just refused to speak.
Her last written words to him …
My Rayne
I love you. You are my shining star. I would never have survived in prison but it seems I can’t survive on the outside either with you in there. I’m so sorry it took me so long to fix it.
With the other letter and proof of her guilt she’d kept, the charges on Rayne were dropped and he buried her a week later in Santa Monica. It had been the only place she’d known some happiness, and it was fine to leave her there in peace.
He had detoured to see his old boss, who had been devastated by the charges against him, explained briefly that he’d known she wouldn’t survive in jail, and the man promised to start proceedings for the restoration of his licence to practise. Undo what damage he could, and as he’d been able to keep most of the sensation out of the papers, that was no mean offer.
Then Rayne gave all his mother’s clothes and belongings to the Goodwill Society and ordered her the biggest monumental angel he could for the top of her grave. It would have made her smile.
Then he put the house up for sale and bought a ticket for Australia and Maeve. The woman he couldn’t forget after just one night. Not because he was looking for happily ever after but because he owed it to her and Simon to explain. And if he was going to start a new life he had to know what was left of his old one. If anything.
All he knew was the man he was now was no fit partner for Maeve and he had no doubt Simon would say the same.
On arrival it had taken him two days of dogged investigation before he’d traced Maeve to Lyrebird Lake and he would have thought of it earlier if he’d allowed himself to think of Simon first.
Simon’s birth father lived there and Simon often spent Christmas with them—he should have remembered that. With Maeve’s mother in the US it made sense she was with her brother.
Who knew if she’d say yes to seeing him after the way he’d left, if either of them would? He guessed he couldn’t blame them when they didn’t know the facts, but he had to know they were both all right. Maybe he should have opened the letters Maeve had sent and not refused the phone calls Simon had tried, but staying isolated from others and keeping the outside world out of his head had been the only way he’d got through it.
Looked down at the wad of letters in his hand and decided against opening the letters now in case she refused to see him in writing.
Two hundred miles away from Lyrebird Lake, and driving just over the legal speed limit, Rayne pressed a little harder on the accelerator pedal. The black Chev, a souped-up version of his first car from years ago, throttled back with a throaty grumble.
He didn’t even know if Maeve had a partner, had maybe even married, but he had to find out. She would refuse to see him. It was ridiculous to be propelled on with great urgency when it had been so long, but he was. He should wait until after the holiday season but he couldn’t.
The picture in his head of her leaning against the doorframe as he’d been led away had tortured him since that night. The fact that he’d finally discovered the woman he needed to make him whole had been there all the time in his past, and he’d let her down in the most cowardly way by not telling her what would happen.
He couldn’t forgive himself so how did he think that Maeve and her brother would forgive him? All he just knew was he had to find her and explain. Try to explain.
So clearly he remembered her vulnerability before he’d carried her up those stairs. Blindingly he saw her need to see herself the way he saw her. Perhaps it was too late.
If she had moved on, then he would have to go, but he needed her to know the fault was all his before they said a final goodbye. It wasn’t too late to at least tell her she couldn’t have been more perfect on that night all those months ago.
A police highway patrol car passed in the opposite direction. The officer glanced across at him and Rayne slowed. Stupid. To arrive minutes later after nine months wouldn’t make the difference but if he was pulled over for speeding then the whole catastrophe could start again. International drivers licence. Passports. He didn’t want the hassle.
It was lucky the salesman had filled the fuel tank last night because he’d only just realised it was early Christmas morning. Every fuel stop was shut. He had no food or drinks except the water he’d brought with him. Big deal except he was gatecrashing Simon’s family at a time visitors didn’t usually drop in. Hopefully the rest of the family weren’t assembled when he arrived.
It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He remembered Simon taking him home to his other parents’ one year while they’d been in high school. Rayne’s mother had ended up in rehab over the holiday break, it had always been the hardest time of the year for her to stay straight, and his friend, Simon, had come to check on him.
He’d been sixteen and sitting quietly watching television when Simon had knocked at the door, scolded him for not letting him know, and dragged him reluctantly back to his house for the best Christmas he’d ever had.
Simon’s parents had ensured he’d had a small Christmas sack at the end of his bed on Christmas morning and Maeve had made him a card and given him a Cellophane bag of coconut ice she’d made for everyone that year. He’d loved the confectionary ever since.
Well, here he was again, gatecrashing. Unwanted.
It was anything but funny. The truly ridiculous part was that in his head he’d had an unwilling relationship with Maeve for the last nine months. She’d made an irreversible imprint on him in those hours he’d held her in his arms. Blown him away, and he was still in pieces from it. He’d kept telling himself they’d only connected in his last desperate attempt to hold onto someone good before the bad came but he had no doubt she would always hold a sacred piece of his heart.
In prison he’d separated his old life out of his head. Had kept it from being contaminated by his present. Refused any visitors and stored the mail. But when his defences had been down, when he’d drifted off to sleep, Maeve had slid in beside him, been with him in the morning when he’d woken up, and at night when he’d dreamt. He’d had no control over that.
But he’d changed. Hardened. Couldn’t help being affected by the experience, and she didn’t need a man like he’d become—so he doubted he’d stay. Just explain and then head back to Sydney to sort out his life. Start fresh when he could find some momentum for beginning. Wasn’t even sure he would return to paediatrics. Felt the need for something physical. Something to use up the coil of explosive energy he’d been accumulating over the last nine months.
So maybe he’d go somewhere in between for a while where he could just soak up nature and the great outdoors now that he had the freedom to enjoy it.
Funny how things were never as important until you couldn’t have them. He’d lusted after a timeless rainforest, or a deserted mountain stream, or a lighthouse with endless ocean to soothe his soul.
Or Maeve, a voice whispered. No.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_e43e1d16-4ea8-57e9-8a57-569ee4ffdc30)
Maeve
MAEVE PATTED HER round and rolling belly to soothe the child within. Christmas in Lyrebird Lake. She should have been ecstatic and excited about the imminent birth of her baby.
Ecstatic about the fact that only yesterday Simon had declared his love to Tara and was engaged to a woman she couldn’t wait to call her sister. She put her fingers over the small muscle at the corner of her eye, which was twitching. But instead she was a mess.
Her only brother, or half-brother, she supposed she should acknowledge that, seeing she was living in Lyrebird Lake where his birth father lived, was engaged to be married. That was very exciting news.
And it wasn’t like Simon’s family hadn’t made her welcome. But it wasn’t normal to land on people who didn’t know you for one of the biggest moments of your life even if Simon had always raved about Lyrebird Lake.
The place was worth raving about. She’d never been so instantly received for who she was, even in her own family, she thought with a tinge of uneasy disloyalty, but that explained why Simon had always been the least judgemental of all her siblings.
Until she’d slept with Rayne, that was.
Simon’s other family didn’t know the meaning of the word judgmental. Certainly less than her mother, but that was the way mum was, and she accepted that.
And she and Simon had re-established some of their previous closeness, mostly thanks to Tara.
The fabulous Tara. Her new friend and personal midwife was a doll and she couldn’t imagine anyone she would rather have in the family.
She, Maeve, was an absolute bitch to be depressed by the news but it was so hard to see them so happy when she was so miserable.
She gave herself a little mental shake. Stop it.
Glanced out the window to the manger on the lawn. It was Christmas morning, and after nearly four weeks of settling in there was no place more welcoming or peaceful to have her baby.
So what was wrong with her?
It was all very well being a midwife, knowing what was coming, but she had this mental vision of her hand being held and it wasn’t going to be Simon’s. Have her brother, in the room while she laboured? Not happening, even if he was an obstetrician.
No. It would be Tara’s hand that steadied her, which was good but not what she’d secretly and hopelessly dreamt of.
That scene she’d replayed over in her head a thousand times, him crossing the floor to her after that first glance, and later the feel of his arms around her as he’d carried her so easily up the stairs, the absolutely incredible dominance yet tenderness of his lovemaking. Gooseflesh shimmered on her arms.
She shook her head. The birth would be fine. It was okay.
She tried to shake the thought of needing Rayne to get through labour from her mind but it clung like a burr and refused to budge as if caught in the whorls of her cerebral convolutions.
Which was ridiculous because the fact was Rayne didn’t want her.
He’d refused to answer her letters or take the call the one time she’d tried to call the prison, had had to go through the horror of finding out his prison number, been transferred to another section, the interminable wait and then the coldness of his refusal to speak to her.
Obviously he didn’t want her!
Simon had told her he’d found out he would be in prison for at least two years, maybe even five, and that the charges had been drug related. She, for one, still didn’t believe it.
But she hated the fact Rayne didn’t want to see her.
Her belly tightened mildly in sympathy, like it had been tightening for the last couple of weeks every now and then, and she patted the taut, round bulge. It’s okay, baby. Mummy will be sensible. She’ll get over your father one day. But that wasn’t going to happen if she stayed here mooning.
Maeve sat up and eased her legs out of the bed until her feet were on the floor. Grunted quietly with the effort and then smiled ruefully at herself for the noisy exertion of late pregnancy.
She needed to go for a walk. Free her mind outside the room. Stay fit for the most strenuous exertion of her life.
It was time to greet Christmas morning with a smile and a gentle, ambling welcome in the morning air before the Queensland heat glued her to the cool chair under the tree in the back yard. The tables were ready to be set for breakfast and later lunch with Simon’s family and she would put on a smiling face.
She wondered if Tara was up yet. Her friend had come in late last night with Simon, she’d heard them laughing quietly and the thought made her smile. Two gorgeous people in love. The smile slipped from her face and she dressed as fast as she could in her unbalanced awkwardness and for once didn’t worry about make-up.
Self-pity was weak and she needed to get over herself. She was the lucky one, having a baby when lots of women ached for the chance, and she couldn’t wait.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a family who loved her, even if her mum was in the States.
But she had dear Louisa, Simon’s tiny but sprightly grandmother, spoiling them all with her old-fashioned country hospitality and simple joy in kinfolk. She, Maeve, was twenty-five and needed to grow up and enjoy simple pleasures like Louisa did.
Once outside, she set off towards the town and the air was still refreshingly cool. Normally she would have walked around the lake but it was Sunday, and Simon liked the Sunday papers. Did they print newspapers on Christmas Day? Would the shop even be open? She hadn’t thought of that before she’d left but if it didn’t then that was okay.
It was easier not to think in the fresh air and distractions of walking with a watermelon-sized belly out front cleared the self-absorbtion.
Maeve saw the black, low-to-the-ground, old-fashioned utility as it turned into the main street and smiled. A hot rod like you saw at car shows with wide silver wheels and those long red bench seats in the front designed for drive-in movies. It growled down the road like something out of Happy Days, she thought to herself. The square lines and rumbling motor made it stand out from the more family-orientated vehicles she usually saw. Something about it piqued her curiosity.
She stared at the profile of the man driving and then her whole world tilted. Shock had her clutching her throat with her fingers and then their eyes met. Her heart suddenly thumped like the engine of the black beast and the utility swerved to the edge of the road and pulled up. The engine stopped and so did her breath—then her chest bumped and she swayed with the shock.
It was Maeve! The connection was instantaneous. Like the first time. But she was different. He blinked. Pregnant! Very pregnant!
Rayne was out of the car and beside her in seconds, saw the colour drain from her face, saw her eyes roll back. He reached her just as she began to crumple. Thank God. She slumped into his arms and he caught her urgently and lifted her back against his chest, felt and smelt the pure sweetness of her hair against his face as he turned, noticed the extra weight of her belly with a grimace as he struggled with the door catch without dropping her. Finally he eased her backwards onto the passenger seat and laid her head gently back along the seat.
He stared at the porcelain beauty of the woman he’d dreamed about throughout that long horrible time of incarceration.
Maeve.
Pregnant by someone else. The hollow bitterness of envy. The swell of fierce emotion and the wish it had been him. He patted her hands, patted her cheek, and slowly she stirred.
Unable to help the impossible dream, he began to count dates in his head. He frowned. Pushed away a sudden, piercing joy, worked out the dates again. But they’d both used contraception. It couldn’t be …
She groaned. Stirred more vigorously. Her glorious long eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. They widened with recognition.
Then she gagged and he reached in and lifted her shoulders so she was sitting on the seat and could gag out the door. She didn’t look at him again. Just sat with her shoulders bowed and her head in her hands.
He reached past her to the glove box and removed a small packet of tissues. Nudged her fingers and put them into her hand. She took them, but even after she’d finished wiping her mouth she still didn’t look at him and he glanced around the street to see if anyone had noticed. Thank God for quiet Sunday mornings. Quiet Christmas morning, actually.
Well, that was unexpected. Something going right!
Seeing Maeve outside and alone. So unplanned. Looking down at her, he couldn’t believe she was here in front of him. His eyes were drawn to the fragile V of the nape of her neck, the black hair falling forward away from the smoothness of her ivory skin, and he realised his heart was thumping like a piston in his chest. Like he’d run a marathon. Like he’d seen a vision of the future that was so bright he was blinded. Fool.
It felt like a dream. A stupid, infantile, Christmas fantasy … In reality, though, the woman of his dreams had, in fact, fainted and then thrown up at the very sight of him! He needed to get a grip.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_80d14176-8ba1-5767-a844-97ded9dbc079)
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.
