should suit you,’ Seth said, pushing open a door.
‘Oh.’ Amy couldn’t hold back an exclamation of surprise as she entered the room and he set their bags down. ‘This is lovely.’
It was the prettiest room possible, with soft, pale green carpet and matching green and cream wallpaper. Romantic mosquito nets hung over twin beds and French doors opened onto the veranda.
‘There’s an en-suite bathroom through there.’ He pointed to a door.
‘Thank you, Seth. That’s wonderful.’
Setting Bella down, Amy peeped around the doorway. The bathroom was sparkling clean and as lovely as the bedroom. Thick, soft towels hung on the rails and there was even a purple orchid in a cut-glass vase on the washbasin. It was amazing, really, to find such comfort all the way out here, like coming across a mirage in the middle of a desert.
Perhaps Seth and his uncle were used to having guests. Amy wondered if he wasn’t nearly as antisocial as she’d believed. This wonder was compounded when she turned back into the bedroom, and found Bella and the antisocial man in question trying to touch the ends of their noses with their tongues.
As she watched them Amy’s throat tightened and her mouth wobbled dangerously. They looked so alike, giggling together and having such incredible fun being silly. Without warning, her guilty conscience got the better of her and she very nearly blurted out the truth. Right there and then, accompanied by tears.
I mustn’t. Not now. It would be too cruel to walk into Seth’s house and immediately dump the news on him like an emotional thunderstorm.
She pretended to be terribly busy, opening Bella’s suitcase, struggling to feel calmer.
As if he hadn’t noticed anything amiss, Seth said, ‘I told Ming we’d be happy with something light for supper. How do scrambled eggs with tea and toast sound?’
‘That sounds fine.’ She was dazed with surprise. ‘Who’s Ming?’
Seth smiled. ‘My cook.’
His cook?
Amy blinked. This was another surprise. From the way Rachel had spoken, she’d always imagined that life on this cattle station was pretty rough.
‘So are scrambled eggs OK?’ Seth asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They’d be perfect. Bella would love some, too.’
‘No problem. I’ll let Ming know. Come along to the kitchen when you’re ready. It’s just down the hall.’
‘One, two, five, six!’ Bella chanted proudly as she counted the buttered fingers of toast on her plate, then beamed happy smiles at both Amy and Seth.
They were eating alone in the kitchen, the mysterious Ming having prepared their food and then disappeared before Amy could meet him.
Fortunately, Bella was quite adept at filling any awkward silences that lapsed during their dinnertime conversation. In between Bella’s choruses, Amy answered Seth’s questions about her work in marketing and he elaborated on the export beef market.
She wished she could follow up on their earlier conversation with more personal questions like how he’d felt about giving up rugby, or whether he planned to live on Cape York for ever. Or whether he looked forward to having a family one day. Most importantly, she wanted to know how he’d felt about Rachel.
Instead, she told him about her Melbourne flat and Bella’s playgroup and the day care centre where she planned to leave Bella when she returned to work.
Seth’s gaze met Amy’s when she told him this, and wariness crept into his eyes, as if he sensed her underlying tension.
All of a sudden she was desperately, achingly tired and she realised she’d been tense for hours. The closer she got to telling Seth about his relationship to Bella, the more frightened she was.
The fact was, telling Seth was one thing. Handing her precious little girl over was another matter entirely. Amy had no intention of giving her away. As Bella’s guardian, she planned to take the child back to Melbourne with her. Seth could stay in touch, certainly, but he couldn’t expect to have Bella permanently.
Could he?
All through the meal, there was a question in his eyes, which Amy tried to avoid. She focused on his hands as he cut a piece of toast into the shape of a sailing boat for Bella. They were very workmanlike hands—sinewy and strong and suntanned. To Amy’s intense dismay, she found herself imagining his hands on her skin and the thought caused crazy explosions deep inside.
By the end of the meal, Bella was growing sleepy again and Amy grabbed the excuse to escape, to put her to bed.
‘Good idea,’ Seth agreed easily, but as Amy was about to leave he said, ‘Would you have time for a chat after Bella’s settled?’
Time for a chat?
Her heart jumped with sudden fright. Why did his simple question sound ominous? His blue gaze was quiet and steady, in complete contrast to her hectic pulse.
‘Yes, of course,’ she managed to reply. ‘It shouldn’t take too long to settle Bella.’
‘Half an hour?’
‘That’s plenty of time.’
For once Amy was pleased that Bella knew every word of her bedtime story by heart. She only had to turn the pages while the little girl happily pointed to the pictures and recited snippets of dialogue.
Meanwhile, Amy’s mind raced, trying to guess why Seth wanted to chat.
Ever since Rachel’s accident, her mind had developed the alarming habit of leaping to worst-case scenarios. She wondered if Seth wanted to talk about Rachel and Bella. Could he have guessed?
She wasn’t ready to tell Seth the truth. She’d mentally prepared herself for a confession in the morning.
But would there ever be a right time?
Amy watched Bella’s innocent little face as she snuggled down beneath the crisp white sheets with her favourite toy, a fat stuffed pig.
‘Night, night,’ she murmured, touching her fingers to a silky curl of jet-black hair.
Bella eyed her sternly. ‘Say bed bugs.’
‘Bossy boots,’ Amy chided, but she obliged. ‘Night, night, sweetheart. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’
Bella grinned with satisfaction and they hugged tightly. Amy kissed her warm, baby-soft skin, and tried not to think about distressing possibilities that involved handing Bella over, or nights in the future without this ritual.
An awful panic gripped her, and suddenly she knew with blinding clarity how vitally and deeply important Bella had become to her. She simply couldn’t bear to give her up.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she fought tears as she stroked the child’s soft curls and watched her eyelids grow heavy. And she tried, frantically, to sort out
