reached his hands arms up behind his head and sighed. One thing about prison, you lost your finicky ways about where you could sleep.
It was a typical country pub. With typical country hospitality, seeing he could be sleeping on a park bench if they hadn’t let him in.
Squeaky cast-iron bedframe with yellowed porcelain decoration in the middle, thin, lumpy mattress, used-to-be white sheets and a wrinkled bedspread. A hook for clothes and a bathroom down the hall to share, except that no one else was such a loser they were in there for Christmas.
He wouldn’t be here long. Wasn’t sure he should be in Lyrebird Lake at all. But thank God he’d come.
Maeve was having his baby. Maeve, who was anything but ‘little Princess Maeve’. How the hell had that happened when they’d been so careful?
Funnily, he didn’t even consider it could be anyone else’s because the dates matched and after what they had shared—Lord, what they had shared in one incredible night—if a persistent sperm was going to get through any night that would be the one. He half laughed out loud—a strangled, confused noise—thankful that nobody else would hear or care about it.
A ridiculous mix of horror that a child had been dumped with him for a parent, regret at how distressed Simon must have been at his supposed friend’s perfidy, ghastly regret that Maeve had had to face Simon without him and spend a pregnancy without his support.
But on top, like a life-raft shining light in the dark ocean, was an insidious, floating joy that glorious Maeve had kept his child and he was going to be a father. And she’d held his hand in front of Simon.
Though the next steps held a whole bag of dilemmas. What was he going to do about it? What could he do about it? Of course he would support them, money wasn’t a problem. Hell, he’d buy her a house and put it in her name, or the baby’s name, whatever she wanted. But what else?
Suddenly his whole world had changed, from that of a lost soul who hadn’t been able to help his own mother—the one person he’d tried so hard to save—to a social pariah without any commitments and little motivation to slip back into his previous life, and now to a man with the greatest responsibility of all. Protecting another woman, keeping in mind he hadn’t been able to save the last one, and this time his child as well, was something which scared him to the core.
Of course, that was if they could possibly work something out, and if she’d let him, but at least she wanted to talk. He wasn’t so sure Simon wanted to and he really couldn’t blame him.
It was a lot to take in. And a lot to lose when you thought you’d already lost it all.
Maeve saw Rayne arrive because she was standing at the window of her bedroom, waiting. It was nine-thirty and everyone had arrived for breakfast and the huge pile of family presents were to be opened after that.
She shook her head as the black car stopped, so antique it was trendy again, big and bulky and mean looking, very James Dean, I’m a bad boy, Rayne really needed to get over that image. Especially now he was going to be a father. She smiled ironically through the window. Though if Rayne had a son her child would probably love that car as he grew up.
She turned away from the window and glanced at the mirror across the room. So it seemed after only one sight of Rayne she was thinking of her child growing up with him.
She saw her reflection wincing back at her. The worried frown on her brow. Saw the shine reflected on her face and she crossed the room to re-powder her nose.
Was she doing the right thing, going with her feelings? she thought as she dabbed. Should she believe so gullibly that there might be a future with Rayne? Take it slowly, her brother had said. Maybe Simon was right.
She reapplied her lip gloss. At least she’d been the first point of call as soon as he was free, and that had been before he’d known she was having his baby.
Or was she having herself on. Maybe it was Simon, his best friend from his childhood, not her he’d really come to see. He had travelled across the world last time for a conversation with Simon that hadn’t happened. This morning he’d just seen her on the side of the road first.
When it all boiled down to it. how much did Rayne know about her or could care after just one night? One long night when they hadn’t done much talking at all.
Nope. She wasn’t a stand-out-in-the-crowd success story.
With a mother who expected perfection and three older, very confident sisters, she’d always wanted to shine in the crowd. Had hidden her shyness under a polished and bolshie exterior that had said, Look at me, had forced herself to be outgoing. Maybe that was why her relationships with men had seemed to end up in disaster.
Once they’d got to know her and realised she wasn’t who they’d thought she was.
That was her problem. Being the youngest of five very successful siblings, she’d always seen herself falling a little short. But finally, when she’d settled on midwifery, incredibly she’d loved it. But her job had gone down the tube with this baby for a while yet—so she’d blown that too.
The hardest thing about Rayne walking away without a backward glance had been those voices in her head saying it had been easy for him to do that. Too easy.
She turned away from the mirror with a sigh. And then there was Rayne’s consummate ease in keeping the whole impending disaster of his court appearance and sentencing from her.
But what if she had the chance to show him the real woman underneath? Maybe he’d show her the real man? Maybe it could work because there was no doubting physical chemistry was there in spades between them. Or had been before she’d turned into a balloon. They’d just have to see if that was enough to build on with their child.
She slid her hand gently over the mound of her stomach and held the weight briefly in her palm.
You are the most important person, baby, but maybe your daddy just needs to have someone with faith in him to be the perfect father. And I do have that faith and he’ll have to prove otherwise before we are going to be walked away from again.
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
