And the way she’d responded to his kiss...
Yeah, he wanted to be on that settee with her. Which was a joke. She was sleeping around broken springs as it was.
If he gathered her to him, if he said...what he wanted to say...how much more would be broken?
She was twenty-eight—old enough to protect herself, and old enough to know the rules in chance encounters. And yet the way she looked at him, the way she smiled, the sound of her chuckle...
She wasn’t old enough. She wasn’t savvy. If he took this further...
Did he want to?
For heaven’s sake, he’d known her how long? What was he doing, thinking further?
He didn’t do commitment. One day maybe? The McLellan billions demanded an heir and there were plenty of women in his orbit who knew how his world worked, who’d fit pretty much seamlessly into his life. But Meg...
What the hell was he thinking?
It was late. He was tired. What he was thinking was just plain stupid.
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
It wasn’t about to happen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT DAY was so glorious Meg could imagine living on Garnett herself.
‘But this weather won’t hold,’ she told Matt. ‘Believe me.’
Peggy had taken her grandson fishing. They could see them down on the jetty, the white-haired grandma coaching her grandson as Meg had coached him the day before.
They’d gone off happily, although there’d been one dispute. ‘You can’t use barbed hooks, Grandma,’ Henry had been explaining as they left. ‘It hurts their mouths.’
That had made Meg smile. She’d turned to Matt, expecting to find him smiling as well, but instead she’d caught him looking at her. Just...looking.
He’d glanced away and made some innocuous remark about Henry’s broadening education, but the expression she’d caught had her unsettled.
Henry was wearing one of Peggy’s windcheaters, the sleeves rolled up, the hem hanging to his knees. He seemed cheerfully oblivious.
Meg and Matt had both decided their filthy jeans and trousers would have to keep on keeping on, but Matt’s shirt and Meg’s windcheater were currently flapping on the line. Meg was wearing one of Peggy’s T-shirts, far too tight.
Matt was wearing...nothing at all.
Apart from his trousers, of course. Not that that helped. He was naked from the waist up.
Meg had tried not to watch as he’d chopped enough wood to keep them warm for a week. She’d failed. The sight of that naked chest, the delineation of muscles... A New York financier had no right to look like that.
And now... She’d been sitting on a log overlooking the cove, watching the pair below fish. Matt came and sat beside her and he brought his naked chest with him and she thought... She felt...
Like a sensible woman had no business thinking or feeling.
‘So, plan,’ he said, and she had to haul her thoughts away from an entirely inappropriate path and focus on... What had he said?
‘Plan?’
‘You know what I mean.’
She did. While Matt had chopped wood this morning she’d tried to distract herself by investigating the contents of Peggy’s fridge and her pantry. The results had left her horrified.
‘It’s a wonder we survived last night’s dinner,’ she told him. ‘There’s stuff in that fridge that’s about to walk out on its own.’
‘You don’t think it’s the shock of losing her daughter, of trying to plan for Henry? Grief can make you fuzzy-headed.’
He got that, then. Impressive. This man was smart—that had never been in question. He was kind. He was also...empathetic?
‘It can,’ she agreed, thinking of the things her grandparents had done while in the throes of grief. ‘But the pantry’s full of weevils and she hasn’t noticed. That’s long-term.’
‘Ugh.’
‘And the battery thing... If I lived here, I’d have half a dozen sets of rechargeable batteries for extra solar storage and for the radio. If she were to get sick... If Henry was to fall and cut himself...’
‘I know,’ he said heavily. ‘So where do we take it from here?’
‘Let me talk to her.’
‘You...’
‘I’m good with oldies,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I could talk my grandpa into letting me help him shower. If I can do that, the next step’s world peace.’
‘But if she leaves the island...where do you propose they go?’
‘Is that up to you and me to decide?’ Meg asked. ‘Matt, one thing I’ve learned from living with my grandparents is that age shouldn’t take away choice. Yes, Peggy’s struggling and maybe she might need help, but it’s her life we’re talking about. Seeing her this morning, watching Henry... I suspect we’ll be pointing out stuff she already knows. She might even have a plan. Let’s give her the respect of making a choice herself.’
* * *
Except Peggy didn’t have a plan. They found that out after dinner. Fish caught by Henry, seared to perfection. Potato crisps made from potatoes Meg had dug from a neglected vegetable patch. A stir fry of greens from the same source.
Matt could have walked into the best restaurant in New York, eaten that meal and come out happy.
As soon as dinner was done, Henry crashed. He’d spent the day fishing, exploring the island with the dogs, doing stuff he’d never done in his life. He was exhausted.
Peggy also looked grey with fatigue, but she found enough energy to read him a bedtime story without going to sleep herself. Then she came down and sat at the kitchen table and faced them both. They all knew it was time for things to be brought into the open.
‘I know what you’re going to say,’ she said heavily before either Matt or Meg could find space to comment. ‘I can’t keep him here. I hoped I could, but when the battery failed... It was my stupid fault, but it’s a sign. I’m not as sharp as I should be. This was my lifestyle choice but I thought today, what if Henry gets something like appendicitis? When I heard Amanda was dead, the shock... Losing Amanda... All I wanted was to have him here. I know now it’s impossible. I should have faced it before but I’m facing it now. So...’ She looked helplessly at the pair of them. ‘What do I do about it? Will you help me? Please?’
Matt flashed Meg a look. Peggy had known... His respect for Meg was increasing by the moment, but her face didn’t show for an instant that she was satisfied with her call. Her face was pure concern.
But she left it for him to speak first.
‘Peggy, we’re sorry,’ he said. ‘But if you can’t keep Henry here...do you want to be evacuated with him?’
‘Yes.’ There was no hesitation. ‘You know Amanda’s father was American? I was born on a farm south of Rowan Bay. Amanda was the result of my one stint at trying to be a city girl. I even ended up with American citizenship, but look where that left me. Both Amanda and her father despised the lifestyle I longed for. Finally, I had to walk away and I’ve been a loner ever since.’ There was a wealth of sadness in her voice, a wealth of regret.
She sighed and looked around at the peeling paintwork, at the obvious signs of neglect. ‘I’ve loved this island but now I can’t even afford to fix the house. I’ll need to find somewhere to rent in Rowan Bay, though what with... It’ll take time to sell this place even if I can find a buyer. No one wants rocky outcrops in such a climate. And I can’t... I can’t...’
She stopped. A tear rolled down her wind-weathered cheek and Meg reached out and took her hand.
‘Hey, Peggy, don’t cry. Let’s take one step at a time. What we need is a plan.’
‘A plan...’ Peggy looked at her as if such a thing was unthinkable.
‘A plan,’ Meg said firmly. ‘Something to give us breathing space.’
We? Matt thought blankly. Us? He’d hired Meg to skipper a boat. What was she doin
g, offering to be in the mix?
But the we was continuing. ‘Why don’t we spend tomorrow packing?’ she suggested. ‘We can pack essentials and things like Stretchie’s favourite ball, your favourite pillow, your best fishing rod. Precious stuff we can take with us when we’re evacuated. When you’re settled, I can bring you back in one of our bigger boats and we’ll collect the rest.’
‘But where will we go?’ Peggy’s voice was muffled, grief mixed with despair.
And Meg’s grip on her hand tightened. ‘I’ve been thinking of that, too,’ she said. ‘I have a big old house on the headland south of Rowan Bay. I’ve lived there with my grandparents but sadly now I’m on my own. So I have four bedrooms, lots of squishy old furniture, lots of space. It’s not grand but it’s comfy. I have a huge garden—well, it used to be a garden, now it’s sort of wilderness because I don’t have time to care for it. I have chooks. I have five acres of coastline where you can fish or walk or just get to know your grandson. Peggy, you’re very welcome to come and stay with me for as long as you want. While you get your breath back. While you plan. It sounds sensible to me but what about you? What do you say?’
It obviously took Peggy’s breath away. She didn’t answer, just stared at Meg, astounded.
It pretty much took Matt’s breath away, too. He’d been ready to swing into action, find them a hotel until he could organise a rental property, foot the bill himself. He opened his mouth to say it—but then he closed it again.
He was due back in the States. He had massive financial contracts hanging on his return. He’d spent a lot of today worrying that he couldn’t simply dump Peggy and Henry and leave.
But now, with one extraordinary offer, the responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders. By one extraordinary woman.
‘But...’ Peggy was gazing wide-eyed at Meg, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘But for how long?’
‘For as long as you want,’ Meg said soundly. ‘To be honest, my place is lonely. Boof will love company and so will I. How are you at gardening?’
‘I love gardening. I’ve struggled to keep this one going but if I had a bit of help...’
‘There you are, then,’ she said, smiling. ‘I spend my days skippering charter boats and my garden’s rubbish. We’ll fix it together. If you can push a mower and pull weeds, there’s your rent taken care of. And Henry can go to the local school. I imagine it’ll take him time to settle but it’s a good school.’
She really was talking long-term. Matt was growing more and more astounded.
‘Meg...’ he started and she flashed him a warning look.
‘You have any objection to our plan?’
And there it was again. Our. She’d incorporated herself into this situation, she’d taken responsibility, she was one of them.
One of...us?
No. Because suddenly he was the outsider. He was the one going back to the States while Meg took over.
That should be fine. He couldn’t think of a better solution. He wasn’t convinced Peggy’s confusion was solely down to grief and shock, but Meg would be there, keeping an eye on them both. Caring.
And then he thought, why did that make him feel empty? Bereft?
There was no reason. After all, Henry was the child of an employee, nothing more. The problem of what to do with him had been solved. He could head back to the States, conscience clear.
‘There will be some money coming through from Amanda’s estate,’ he said, deciding to go down the professional route. The much less emotional path. ‘Not as much as you might expect. To be honest, she seems to have led a fairly flamboyant lifestyle.’ He’d been at her apartment, a penthouse overlooking Manhattan. He’d seen the wardrobe overflowing with shoes even he recognised as extraordinary. ‘But there will be enough for you to rent for a while once we find you a place.’
‘I’d rather stay with Meg,’ Peggy said, casting him a scared look. Like a child about to have a treat snatched away.
‘You could put Amanda’s money into trust for Henry,’ Meg suggested. ‘When Peggy sells the island, we can make a decision whether living with me is working. She can buy her own place then if she wants.’
‘Meg, do you realise...?’
And he got a flash of anger. A look that definitely said, Butt out.
‘I think it’s a good plan,’ she said. ‘No, I think it’s a great plan. I get a free gardener. Boof and Stretchie will have each other and so will Peggy and Henry. And me... I’ll get to come home after a day’s charter and the lights will be on. It’ll be home again. Any objections, Matt McLellan?’
Any objections? Strangely the biggest was that he wasn’t included. That was dumb. He really did need to get back. But before he realised what he was about to say...he said it.
‘Can you put me up for a few days, as well? I need to assure myself that Henry’s safe.’
‘Henry will be safe,’ Peggy growled. ‘I’m not a total incompetent.’
‘Neither am I,’ Meg said, and astonishingly she grinned. ‘But let’s humour him, shall we, Peggy? Blokes like to be in charge and I suspect someone like Matt McLellan likes that even more than most blokes. So let’s give him the illusion of control. It’s a very good plan, Matt McLellan, but you’re welcome to come stay in my house and see for yourself.’
And then she hesitated, appearing to think about what to say next.
‘But Peggy and Henry’s invitation is open-ended,’ she told him when she’d thought about it. ‘Yours is a few days only. I have a big house but it still doesn’t feel big enough for the two of us. And now... I don’t know about you two, but it’s time I hit the sack. We have a heap of packing to do tomorrow, Peggy, and we have a plan.’ Her grin returned. ‘I do love a plan, don’t you?’
* * *
She lay on the decrepit settee.
He lay on the floor.
It was barely ten o’clock. He never went to bed before midnight.
How could he sleep?
Meg’s breathing was soft and regular. She was within arm’s reach.
She was...
Meg.
He was starting to feel as if he’d never met a woman like this. A woman who faced the problems of the world and embraced them, solved them her way, without a thought to consequences.
Peggy was elderly and confused. Henry was seven years old and needy. She’d taken them under her wing as if such a commitment were no more than inviting house guests for a couple of days.
She knew it was more than that. He’d seen it in the look of defiance she’d flashed at him, like butt out, this is none of your business.
Peggy needed support. Henry needed love.
Once ensconced in Meg’s house, could she ever ask them to leave?
Was she planning to?
‘This is my responsibility.’ To his horror he heard himself say the words out loud. What was he doing, talking to himself? And Meg heard. She stirred and rolled over to face him. The moonlight was streaming in the window and he could see the mound of her on the settee. A small mound. A power-packed mound.
A mound of decision, of warmth and of kindness.
Also profanity. She hit a broken spring as she rolled and her expression was pure sailor.
‘Where’s a pair of wire clippers when you need them?’ she said bitterly. ‘I went looking for them today and the only ones Peggy has are rusted closed. Now... What did you say?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Yes, you did. If I’m right... This is your responsibility? How so?’
‘I never in a million years wanted to land them on you.’
‘You didn’t. Amanda’s death did. You and I were simply conduits to get Henry to Peggy. You go home. I get to share my too-big house. Problem solved. Yikes, there’s another b...’
He grinned. Her lightness was infectious.
B
ut she’d almost scuttled to bed when Peggy retired and now... He had a feeling her swearing was out of character. Was she purposely reminding him of the gulf between them?
He didn’t want a gulf, and right now even six feet felt like a gulf.
‘You know, if we hauled your quilt and cushions onto the floor we could have one half-comfortable bed between us,’ he ventured.
‘Matt, I’ve checked Peggy’s bathroom cabinet. There are no condoms there, either.’
‘I didn’t mean...’
‘Yeah, you did. Or if you didn’t it’d occur to one or other of us sooner or later. Probably sooner. And neither of us want...’
‘I suspect that’s the problem,’ he said. ‘Both of us want.’
‘Then neither of us can have,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m heading back to my life running fishing charters from Rowan Bay. You’re heading back to your life as a billionaire or whatever you are in Manhattan. Are you a billionaire, by the way?’
He had to tell the truth. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘There you go.’ There was not the least hint of resentment in her voice. ‘Poles apart. So you’re heading back to your life, and you’re not taking my broken heart with you.’
There was a big statement. ‘Would it be broken?’ he asked, cautiously, and he heard her gasp as she realised what she’d said.
‘I... No. Of course not. We’ve known each other two days. But there is this...thing between us and if it gets any stronger...’
He got that, too. He didn’t understand it but it left him wanting.
He wanted this woman.
She was being sensible. He had to be, too.
‘You’re stuck with the springs, then.’
‘I can cope.’
‘Meg, the money side...’
‘Yeah?’
‘There’ll be all sorts of costs involved in having Peggy and Henry. I already promised you a new roof. Whatever else you need...’
‘You want to pay?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Okay, then,’ she said, as if it didn’t matter one way or another. ‘If you really are rich and you really want...’
Cinderella and the Billionaire Page 9
