It’s a bit early in the year but whenever you feel the need you just go right ahead and chop.’
He grinned. Couldn’t help himself. Of all the things he’d thought might happen as he’d driven through the night to get here, getting a job as a woodcutter hadn’t figured in the speculations.
He followed her out. ‘Have I got time to nip back to the pub and let them know I won’t be staying?’
‘Have you left anything there?’
‘No.’ You didn’t leave things in pub accommodation. Or maybe you did in Lyrebird Lake. Who knew?
‘Well, that’s fine. Denny Webb will be over visiting his wife at the hospital. Angus will pass the message on to the ward sister.’
Louisa waved to his car out in the street. ‘You could bring your things in and then wash in the bathroom if you want.’ She had noticed the bristles. ‘And we’ll see you back in a few minutes because it’s nearly time for Christmas lunch.’
Obediently Rayne walked out to his car and brought in his overnight bag. The rest of his stuff—one small suitcase—was under the tarpaulin in the back of the truck. Not that he had much. He’d pretty well given everything else away. Had never been one for possessions. Wasn’t quite sure what had influenced him to buy the old Chev. He’d passed it in a car yard on his way in from the airport and it had reminded him of his mother in happier times.
After his sleep in the motel for eight hours he’d walked back to the car yard an hour before closing time. Had told the guy if he could arrange a full mechanical check by a third party, transfers and insurance and tank of petrol in the time they had left, he’d pay the full price.
By the time he’d had a feed and returned, his car was waiting for him. So he did have one possession.
And an exit strategy. Both good things.
Walking back through the kitchen and outside, it seemed that Christmas lunch would be even noisier than breakfast.
Simon offered him a beer before they all sat down and, to hell with it, he took the glass and it was icy cold, and even though they were in the shade from the trees, it was pretty warm outside.
It was Christmas in Queensland and the beer tasted like Australia. Strong and dry and producing a sigh of momentary content. He noted some corny Christmas music on the CD player and Maeve was holding one hand over her left ear, pleading for it to stop. Tara was laughing and Louisa looked offended.
He leaned towards her. ‘So you don’t like carols?’
‘Not twenty-four seven for the last month,’ she whispered. ‘Save me.’
He laughed. And gave her a quick squeeze as she went past with another jug of sauce to put on the end of the table. She glanced back and she looked at him like he’d given her a present. Be careful there, he thought to himself. Expectations and what he could actually deliver could differ.
Angus came up and stood beside him. Raised his glass. ‘Lemonade. I’m on call.’ He grimaced. ‘But cheers. I hear you’re staying.’
‘Cheers.’ He lifted his beer. ‘Staying until after the baby at least.’
‘Good.’
That was unexpected approval. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s for Maeve. And Simon. But I’m guessing it’s not all easy on your side either. Not easy to get used to all this when you didn’t expect it.’
Rayne glanced around. ‘It’s taking some.’
Angus nodded. ‘Just chill. This place is good at helping the chill factor. Maeve has a lot of support so you won’t be doing it on your own. And Tara is a good midwife.’
Change of subject. Great. ‘Which reminds me. Congratulations on your new daughter-in-law-to-be. I haven’t seen Simon look this happy, ever.’
Angus nodded. Glanced at his son, who had Tara’s hand clasped firmly in his. Tara was laughing up at him. ‘Best Christmas present I could wish for.’ Then he glanced at his own wife and daughters. ‘Finding the right woman is hard but incredibly worth it.’
‘Okay, everyone,’ the woman he was regarding said. ‘Sit.’ He inclined his head at her, gave Rayne a faint smile, and moved away to hold Louisa’s chair, and then his wife’s. He sat at the head of the table and Louisa sat on his left, with Mia on his right.
Simon sat at the other end with Tara next to him and Maeve on the other side. Rayne was in the middle opposite the two little girls, who were giggling at something Simon had said.
After this morning, he wasn’t surprised when the elder of the two girls said grace, and for a fleeting moment he wondered with an inner smile whether, if he had a daughter, he would ever hear her piping little voice bless this table at Christmas. His throat thickened and he drew a quiet breath, and in a reflex he couldn’t control he blocked it all out. Blocked out the tinny Christmas music, the laughing people, the beautiful woman expecting his baby beside him.
Maeve felt the distance grow between her and Rayne and wanted to cry. There had been moments there when he’d seemed to be settling into the day better than she’d expected. Especially when she’d noted his obvious rapport with Louisa, but, then, who didn’t feel that? Louisa was a saint. Even when she’d first arrived and been at her most prickly and morose, Louisa’s gentle, good-natured kindness had won her round before she’d known it.
She’d seen him talking to Angus. Well, since she’d arrived she’d decided Angus was a man’s man, so that wasn’t surprising. Rayne hadn’t really spoken to the girls or Mia since they’d been introduced, but in fairness he hadn’t had much chance. She couldn’t help hoping he would exhibit some signs he was good with children. The guy was a paediatrician, for goodness’ sake. And soon to be a father.
Tara leaned across the table and distracted her by offering the end of a Christmas cracker to pull. ‘I’m not sure how many of these I’m supposed to pull,’ she said in a quiet aside. ‘I just did it with Simon and of course he won. And with Amber and she won. But I want a hat.’
Maeve smiled. ‘You can pull any bon-bon offered. It’s the bon-bon owner’s choice who they want to pull them with. So take any you can.’ Maeve had pulled a lot of bonbons in her time. The two young women had tested their strength against each other, and Tara had been a little more competitive than Maeve had expected, and that made her smile.
Maeve pulled harder and the bon-bon banged and split in half. Tara got the bigger half and the hat and prize. This time Tara crowed as she won. Simon clapped. He didn’t miss much where Tara was concerned, Maeve thought with a pang. She glanced at Rayne. He was watching but his face was impassive and she got the feeling he wasn’t really there.
Not so flattering when she was sitting beside him. ‘Would you like to pull a bonbon with me?’ Darn, did she have to sound so needy?
He blinked. ‘Sorry?’
‘A Christmas cracker.’ She waved the one that was on her plate. ‘See who wins.’
‘Oh. Right. Sure.’
Such enthusiasm, she thought, and realised she was becoming a crotchety old woman
