is a bit hard to imagine, isn’t it?’ she said. She and Wil had been teenagers when they’d met; it didn’t seem that long ago. ‘But you’ll grow with her and the next thing you know you’ll be giving her away at her wedding.’
‘Father of the bride? That’s a stretch too far,’ he said with a hint of that dimple finally appearing.
There was something about his slow smile, the way it lit his dark eyes, that had always made her believe she was special to Wil—as a friend. She could only imagine what it might be like to have that smile directed at her in the sensual, exciting way that had had women flocking to him. But she had never allowed herself to imagine it. Too scared that if she ever acted on it he might kindly reject her. She wasn’t about to start now.
‘Wil, what you’re doing will be life-changing. There’s no way around that. But take it baby step by baby step,’ she said, returning his smile.
‘You always know the right thing to say,’ he said.
‘Not always.’ I’m afraid my give-a-damn quota has expired. ‘But in this case, I say just go in and get your baby. I’ll show you how to change a nappy if the need arises. How about that for an act of friendship?’
He grimaced. ‘Changing nappies is one aspect of parenthood I’m not looking forward to. Prepared for it but dreading it.’
‘Hey, you muck out stables. You’ll get used to it.’ She certainly hadn’t, no matter how much she loved her little nieces and nephews. Maybe nappy-changing would be more bearable if the child was your own. Anyway, Wil could well afford to hire a nanny to help him with the practical aspects of parenting.
‘You’re right. I’m going in,’ he said. He unbuckled his seat belt with a resolute air, as if gearing himself up for action on a battlefield. Four days ago he had had no idea he was a father.
‘Do you want me to actually come inside with you?’ she asked, trying to sound as if she didn’t mind either way. She wasn’t sure if he’d just wanted her company on the drive. Of course she was dying of curiosity to see what the baby was like, but mainly she wanted to be there for him—someone on his side.
He turned to her. ‘Please. I don’t know that I can do this without your support.’
‘Of course you could.’ She undid her seat belt. ‘But there’s strength in numbers and I’m very happy to be your wing woman.’
A drier heat than humid Sydney, crisp with the sharp scent of eucalypts from the thousands of acres of national park that surrounded the mountain town. The sound of cicadas serenading summer was almost deafening. She stood with Wil at the top of the driveway to the sister’s house and smoothed down the skirt of her grape-coloured linen shift dress. Teamed with a low-heeled court shoe, it was a favourite schoolteacher outfit, smart yet respectable. Just the thing to help her friend claim his child.
‘I want to do this,’ he said fiercely. ‘I’ll fight to have this child with me. She’s mine.’
‘I’ve never seen anyone more fearless on horseback. You can do it. You really can, Wil.’
She didn’t want to admit she was nervous. This was so out of her experience, had happened so quickly. One minute she’d been packing boxes, just hours later she was in the mountains with Wil, whom she hadn’t seen for two years, to pick up his baby. The baby he hadn’t known existed. It seemed surreal to say the least.
He turned to look down into her face, dark eyes sincere and warm with gratitude. It was so good to be with him again. ‘Thank you,’ he said slowly. ‘I’ll owe you one after this.’
‘You don’t owe me a thing,’ she said. ‘I’m happy to help. No exchange of favours required.’
Who knew when she would actually see him again after this? He needed her today, what of tomorrow? Besides, New Wil could be very different from the Old Wil who’d been her friend. Now he was a single dad who’d gone through a nasty divorce and the death of the mother of his child. His life would now be focused totally on a seven-month-old baby. She doubted there would be a lot of time for going to see indie bands, or sharing a meal at a funky city café. There was a real likelihood it might be another two years until she saw him again.
She followed Wil down the pathway. Immediately the sister, Sharyn, opened the door. Georgia saw the resemblance to Angie. The older sister’s eyes were red-rimmed, her expression truculent as she glared first at Wil and then at her. The middle-aged social worker hovered nearby.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Georgia murmured to Sharyn. ‘I knew Angie.’ It wasn’t simply the polite thing to say, she meant every word. The shocking loss of a young woman, a mother, was genuine cause for sorrow and grief, no matter how she’d felt about her.
‘Another loss to come,’ Sharyn muttered, still glaring at Wil, who was scrupulously polite in the face of such obvious hostility.
The social worker, Maree, defused the situation and Georgia followed Wil into the house. Small shoes lined up in the entranceway, a stroller leaned against the wall, parked so they had to walk around it, tiny raincoats slung over a rack. A multi-child household. Georgia recognised the signs from her sisters’ houses.
The social worker ushered her and Wil into a family room, clean and tidy save for the toys scattered on the floor. A large playpen, of the old-fashioned wooden kind, was set up in the middle of the room.
‘Sharyn tells me little Nina just woke up from her nap, and is playing with her cousins,’ the social worker said, indicating the playpen.
Georgia’s gaze was drawn to the baby with a shock of dark hair and wearing a pink cotton romper suit. She sat on her bottom on a rug, opposite a little boy of about six who waved a fluffy toy rabbit in front of her. Another younger boy stood outside the playpen hanging on to the railing, calling encouragement. The baby laughed, an infectious gurgling kind of laugh that showed four tiny teeth, two top and two bottom. She waved her little arms around in delight as she made a lunge for the toy. Georgia smiled, a smile that came all the way from her heart.
Wil’s daughter. Angie’s child too. Little Nina had the best of both of them. Wil’s dark hair and eyes; Angie’s petite nose and heart-shaped face. Georgia’s heart spasmed. Poor little thing to have lost her mother. Poor Angie, to have lived long enough after the accident to know she wouldn’t survive to see her baby grow up. But Nina had a good man for a father. She’d won the genetic lottery there.
‘She’s adorable,’ Georgia murmured as she looked up to Wil, standing beside her.
At first, she didn’t know if he actually heard her. He was staring, transfixed, at his daughter. Emotions rippled across his face. Trepidation. Awe. A warmth that looked very much like pride. A Wil she’d never seen before.
‘Yes, she is,’ he said softly, his eyes not leaving the baby.
Sharyn approached the playpen, breaking the moment like a rock thrown violently into the gentle ripples of a pool. ‘Okay, Kieran, that’s enough playtime. Give Nina the bunny and take your brother outside to play.’
The boys obeyed without question. Georgia’s schoolteacher eye noted both little boys looked well cared for, in the way of children who were active and well nourished. They were tender and gentle with the baby. The older one gave his tiny cousin a kiss, hopped out of the playpen, took his
