should go or what he was supposed to do. She handed him a cup of tea and he almost dropped it.
He felt her eyes on him. ‘Relax, Rayne.’ Her voice was soft, understanding, and he wasn’t sure he deserved that understanding but he did allow his shoulders to drop a little. ‘It’s all been a shock for you. Let’s get through the next week and worry about long term later. I’m just glad you’re here and that you’ve said you’ll stay for the labour.’
She was right. He felt the stress leach away like the tea seemed to have soaked into the brown dirt. He sat down beside her.
She handed him the bag of crumbs. ‘Bread-throwing is therapeutic.’
Like a child. ‘You are therapeutic.’ But he took the bag. Before he could throw more crumbs, a tiny, yapping black-curled poodle came bounding up to them, the red bow around his neck waving in the slight breeze. He raced at the ducks and stopped at the edge of the water, and the black ducks took off in a noisy burst of complaint because they’d just found another benefactor in Rayne and now they had to leave.
A little girl’s tremulous cry called the dog from further down the street and the black dog turned, cocked an ear, and then bounded off towards his mistress.
‘So much for duck therapy.’
‘Poor Rayne. Come, snuggle up to me and I’ll make you feel better.’
He smiled and was about to say something when they heard the quack of another duck from the bushes beside them. He frowned and they both looked.
‘Is it a nest?’
‘Could be tangled in something.’ He was about to stand up and check the bush when the sound came again and the branches rustled with movement. He stilled in case he frightened whatever was caught in there and they watched the bushes part until a little brown bird appeared, not a duck at all, a slim bird with a long drooping tail that shook itself free of the undergrowth.
‘Ohh …’ Maeve whispered on a long sigh of delight. ‘It’s not a duck making that noise—it’s a lyrebird.’
Rayne watched in amazement. ‘A lyrebird mimic? As in Lyrebird Lake? I guess that figures.’ But there was something so amazing about the pure fearlessness of a wild creature glaring at them as it moved a step closer and cocked his head to stare their way.
Then the little bird, no larger than a thin hen, straightened, spread his fan-shaped tail in a shimmer of movement and proceeded to dance at the edge of the lake for Maeve and Rayne.
A gift for Christmas.
Backward and forward, shimmering his harp-shaped tail as it swayed above his feathered head, and Rayne had never seen anything like it in his life as he clutched Maeve’s hand in his and felt the tight knot in his chest mysteriously loosen the longer it went on. He glanced at Maeve and saw silver tears glistening.
He hugged her closer, drank in the magic without questioning why they were being gifted with it. All too soon it was over and the tail was lowered. One more stern look from the bird and he stepped nonchalantly back into the bush and with a crackle of foliage he disappeared.
They didn’t speak for a moment as the moment sank into both of them.
‘Wow,’ whispered Maeve.
‘Wow is right,’ Rayne said, as he turned and wiped away the silver droplets from Maeve’s face. Leant over and kissed her damp cheek. ‘I feel like we’ve just been blessed.’
‘Me, too.’ And they sat there in silence for a few minutes longer, in an aura of peace between them that had been missing before, and slowly the real ducks came floating back.
Back at the manse
WHEN THEY GOT back Maeve disappeared into the kitchen to make her brandy sauce. Most of the family were out in the back yard—apparently the Christmas lunch table was set out there again—and the little girls were engrossed in their new possessions.
Simon waylaid Rayne and steered him back out the door away from the family. ‘So what have you two decided?’
Rayne wasn’t sure he’d decided anything. Maeve had done all the planning and now it was up to him to keep his end of the bargain. ‘Maeve wants me to stay for the birth. I’ve said I will.’ Simon looked mildly pleased. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ There was that statement that had upset Maeve and it didn’t do anything positive to Simon’s frame of mind either if the frown across his friend’s brow was an indication. He had no idea why it kept popping out.
‘Is it that hard to commit to that? You slept with her.’ His friend was shaking his head.
He held up his hand. ‘Simon, I’m sorry. The last time I saw you it was an awful night. My world was about to implode. I didn’t intend to end up in bed with Maeve.’ He paused. Looked back in his mind and shook his head. ‘But you should have seen her. She was like some peach vision and she poleaxed me.’
Simon glanced sardonically at him. ‘And she dragged you off to bed?’
‘Nope.’ He had to smile at that memory. ‘I carried her.’ And she’d loved it.
Simon raised his brows. ‘Up two flights of stairs?’ Then he put his hand up. ‘Forget I asked that. Tara says the sparks from you two light up the room. I get that. I get being irresistibly drawn to someone. And I get that you don’t do commitment.’
Simon laughed dryly. ‘But I thought I didn’t do commitment until my Tara came along.’
Rayne looked at his friend’s face. Had never seen it so joyous. As if Simon had finally found his feet and the whole world. Rayne couldn’t imagine that. ‘I meant to say congratulations. Tara seems a wonderful woman.’
Simon’s smile grew. ‘She is. And she so tough and …’ He stopped, shook his head ruefully. ‘Nice diversion. But this is about you.’ Simon searched his face and he flinched a little under the scrutiny. ‘Are you in for the long haul?’
Freaking long haul. Geez. He didn’t know if he would last a week. ‘I’m in for the labour. I’m in for what I can do to help Maeve for the birth. But as soon as I cause problems in her life I’m out of here.’
‘And if you don’t cause problems in her life?’ The inference was he had already let her down, and he guessed he had.
‘I didn’t know she was pregnant.’ Thank God.
Simon shrugged. ‘Tara said you didn’t open the mail. And I know you wouldn’t answer my calls. Why?’
It was his turn to shrug but his bitterness swelled despite his effort to control it. ‘I didn’t want to bring her into that place. Either of you. I had to keep the good things pure. And when I got out, I didn’t want to read that she might refuse to see me. So I came here first.’
‘Have you read the letters now?’
‘Yes.’ Could feel the long stare from Simon. Those letters just reiterated how
