the kitchen, Meredith suspected it was a relief for him to have some distance between them, too, though his reasons were undoubtedly different. Getting on with the business he’d come about would be very much on his mind.
She watched him taking inventory of the contents of her refrigerator and called, “A sandwich will do. There’s bread in the fridge.”
Decisive and efficient in his movements, he set out a loaf of bread, butter, a packet of sliced cheese and tomatoes, then switched on the griller at the top of the stove. He was certainly kitchen trained, Meredith thought, and wondered how much he fended for himself. Was he married?
However pertinent the question was in the circumstances, Meredith shied away from it, reluctant to picture him with a wife. Then she remembered the misery of trying to get along with her stepmother and wondered if Kimberly was suffering the same problem, having lost the parents who had brought her up and then been landed on a woman who had no deep caring for her, a woman who was only there because she was attached to Nick Hamilton.
Meredith knew from first-hand experience how unwanted a girl of Kimberly’s age could feel, given such a situation. And it stood to reason that something had to be prompting the desire to meet her real mother. It also stood to reason that a man as attractive as Nick Hamilton would not be without a woman.
Another question sprang to mind. How did Kimberly know about her? Surely it would be uncharacteristic of Denise Graham to reveal anything about Kimberly’s real mother to the child she was bringing up as her own daughter. It struck Meredith that Nick Hamilton might have more to answer for than he’d like to admit.
“How long has Kimberly known she was adopted?” she asked, feeling the knowledge had to have come after the death of her adoptive parents.
“She found out a week before the car accident that killed Denise and Colin,” he answered flatly.
Found out? Dear Heaven! Had the resulting upset contributed to the accident?
Nick Hamilton’s dark gaze lifted briefly from the bread he was buttering, a heavy sadness dulling his eyes. “Apparently Denise was sorting through photographs and discussing with Colin which ones to send to you. Kimberly overheard them and pieced the information together.” He frowned. “She has a bad habit of eavesdropping. Perhaps being an only child...no sibling to talk to...”
“Did she confront them with it?” Meredith broke in anxiously, imagining the guilt her daughter might feel if there’d been arguments.
He shook his head. “She wanted to think about it. Work out what it meant to her.”
A lot of inner turmoil there, Meredith thought, though it was a relief to learn there had been no open conflict for which Kimberly might blame herself.
“Then her world came crashing down,” Nick Hamilton continued, “and there were so many changes for her to take on, I guess she clung to what was safely familiar rather than pursue what probably seemed like an intangible dream.”
“So you didn’t talk to her about it?”
“I thought it better not to. She had enough trauma losing one set of parents, let alone two.” He grimaced. “She kept it to herself until a few days ago.”
Holding such a big secret all that time...holding it in reserve, Meredith thought, and wondered how often her daughter might have fantasised about another life as she tried living with the man who had been legally appointed her guardian, a man who was only an uncle by adoption. Or did Kimberly instinctively feel more closely bonded to him...her real father?
Was there an innate tie of blood, whether it was known or not? Would her daughter feel she was a total stranger or would there be an instant, intuitive link between them? The need to know pounded through Meredith, bringing a wave of excitement, of almost unbearable anticipation. It was difficult to contain it but she sternly told herself she had to while a meeting was still not settled.
She watched the only man she had ever loved place the sandwiches he was intent on toasting under the griller and tried to imagine what he was feeling about Kimberly’s request, coming virtually out of nowhere. He would not have been prepared for that, either. But Nick Hamilton was no dodger of delicate issues. He faced them and dealt with them according to his sense of rightness. It was that very quality of character Meredith had implicitly believed in when she had found herself pregnant.
“You think a rich college boy is going to stand by you?” her stepmother had mocked. “He skipped out fast enough when I told him your age. A guy like that doesn’t want to be shackled to a sixteen-year-old country girl who was no more than a Christmas vacation fling to him.”
He hadn’t skipped out. Meredith hadn’t thought it then and she didn’t think it now.
It had shocked him when her stepmother had confronted him with how young she was. Meredith had let him assume she was older, knowing she could easily pass for nineteen and desperately wanting to go with him wherever he wanted to take her. She’d argued to herself that love had nothing to do with age.
But Nick had faced the issues squarely and laid them out to her. She still had two more years of school plus tertiary education after that, if she wanted it. There was so much more for her to do and experience and think about before tying herself to anyone or anything. She should be free to make the choices that would best suit her. The love they felt for each other could be recaptured when she was older. He didn’t feel right about taking up her life while she still had so much in front of her.
He had given her his address and suggested they send each other Christmas cards if they both wanted to keep the connection going. No commitment. But there was no harm in maintaining a friendly communication once a year. When she was twenty-one...
“Isn’t eighteen old enough?” she’d protested, devastated at the thought of waiting so many years before they could be lovers again.
“It wouldn’t be fair,” he’d answered ruefully. “Any more than it would be fair of me to stay on here, Merry. The more deeply we get involved the harder it will be to part.”
He’d gone that very day, the day after her stepmother had discovered them making love on the back veranda and created such an ugly scene, accusing Nick of taking advantage of a girl who was barely past being a minor. Despite his shock, Nick hadn’t allowed her stepmother to turn what had been beautiful into something low and dirty. And though he had left her, it wasn’t without the promise of a future for them...if their love held true. Giving her his address was proof of his good faith. He wouldn’t have done that if he was skipping out on her.
Meredith had known her pregnancy would come as another shock to him. He’d taken precautions every time they’d made love. How they’d failed she didn’t know but she’d had no doubt Nick would stand by her. He was kind and caring and responsible and honourable. She couldn’t imagine him letting her down.
It hurt, even now, thinking back to the Christmas after the birth of their baby. Secretly, she’d been so sure a Christmas card would come from him. Even though he was overseas in America, he would think of her and write and then she’d have a contact address and be able to write back, telling him what had happened. She had dreamed of him flying home and reclaiming their child from his sister. They’d be married and...but no Christmas card had come from him.
The only communication had been the first promised packet of photographs from his sister.
So had begun the painful process of accepting that Denise Graham had told the truth
