by Sue MacKay
Kieran stood spellbound. This was his son. His own flesh and blood. There was no denying the wide, full mouth came from the Flynn side. Seamus had the black hair and blue eyes that all Flynns seemed to inherit, but the expression in those eyes gawping at him was pure Abby. Kieran could’ve wept. He felt his heart dissolving. The boy was beautiful. His boy. Was this how every father felt when he saw his child for the very first time? Frightened? Protective? Lungs all gummed up so he couldn’t breathe?
The silence in the tiny kitchen was deafening. Kieran couldn’t have spoken a single word if his life had depended on it. All the arguments he’d had for not wanting a part in this boy’s life evaporated faster than ice cream in a desert. He lifted his arms to take Seamus and was rewarded with a toothless grin. Somewhere under his ribs he felt a sharp stab. Of love? Whoa. He was not ready for this. If this was unconditional love then he wasn’t ready, wasn’t capable of doing it. It frightened him. Like bungee-jumping without a cord.
Then his arms were filled with a wriggling toddler. He grasped Seamus with stiff fingers, held him awkwardly out from his chest. And stared down at him. Seamus. A huge lump blocked his throat, cut off his breathing. He drank in the sight of his son, aware of every wriggle, every thump of one tiny fist on his arm. He saw big eyes peering up at him, trusting him. He saw innocence so sweet it made his knees weak. His heart felt as though it would explode right out through his ribs. This was what it felt like to be a parent. This simple. This terrifying.
He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t father material. What if he harmed Seamus with his ineptitude? Seamus needed love and caring and twenty-four-hour attention. Not a dried-up shell of a man for whom the closest thing to love was sharing a bed with a warm woman for a night.
He turned to hand the boy back to Abigail, to put him aside, back to where he’d be loved. But Abigail took a step away. What? She wasn’t going to rescue her child? The panic he’d felt earlier threatened to erupt. He clenched his muscles and Seamus wriggled against him in protest. See? Already he had made a mistake. Suck in a breath. Deeply. Let it out, ride the panic. Another deep breath. I can’t do this.
‘Grandad, Grandad.’ Olivia’s shouts filled the cottage, and Max leaned over to shake his hand, saying above the din, ‘Welcome to Nelson, lad. It’s great to have you here.’
Kieran shook his head in an attempt to clear away the overwhelming emotions engulfing him. The panic calmed. ‘Thanks, Max.’ He huffed the air from his lungs. ‘It’s good to see you, too.’ Loosening his grip on Seamus and trying to hold him with one arm, he managed to return the handshake. He hadn’t been called ‘lad’ since boarding-school days, and never in the friendly tone Abby’s father had used.
So did Max know he was Seamus’s father? If so, what did the older man think of him? Maybe Max had called him ‘lad’ to soften him up before getting him into a corner and telling him exactly what he expected from Kieran for his grandson. And for his daughter.
Abigail was very quiet. Kieran looked around, found her regarding him steadily. Then she leaned close. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’
He stared down at Seamus, at the complete trust reflected in the young eyes looking back at him. Assessing him? Did Seamus see the fear? The emptiness? Gazing back, Kieran saw no sign of the crushing defeat of a child who strived, and failed, to be loved by his parent. With Abby for a mother it was unlikely he ever would. Thank goodness.
But the same couldn’t be said about Seamus’s father. The boy deserved better. Somewhere behind his ribs he felt something sharp, like he had a stitch from a long run. A painful stitch. Was he going to give away his chance with this child before he’d had time to get to know him? If he knew what was right for the boy he should. But.it wouldn’t be easy to walk away now. It would’ve been better all round if he hadn’t met the lad. Now he knew what Seamus looked like, knew how it felt to hold him.
‘Kieran?’ Abigail nudged him. ‘Don’t you think he’s great?’
He could only manage, ‘He’s beautiful.’ His eyes still focused on Seamus, his arms reluctant to let the boy go even when he knew he should. Before he became too involved.
Max told the room at large, ‘I’ll be off. I’m going out for dinner. Catch up with you at the weekend, Kieran, when you’ve had time to settle in.’
Kieran was vaguely aware of Max hugging his granddaughter before leaving. Then of Olivia turning on the TV, and Abby quietly telling her to turn the volume down. Kieran tugged out a chair from the kitchen table and dropped onto it, still holding his son, now very tenderly. Almost as though afraid he’ll break.
As Seamus forced a thumb into his mouth Abby sauntered in and leaned against the bench, relief lightening her face. ‘He’s taken to you, no problems.’
‘How can you be so sure this soon?’ Kieran heard the edge in his voice, and cursed silently. Abby had been as nervous about this meeting as he had, and now she seemed to be handling it all right. Why couldn’t he?
‘You’d know if Seamus didn’t want to go near you. He has a set of lungs on him you wouldn’t believe. Must have got them from your side.’
‘I can see he’s a right little charmer, just like me.’
‘Yep. You win that one, hands down.’ Her smile sagged a little, and Kieran was reminded that it was his charm that had ultimately led to one night of passion and this little boy.
Seamus yawned, and Kieran felt his heart swell. Gently he cuddled his warm bundle against his chest. Shock banged through him. Whatever his feelings about love and fatherhood, he wouldn’t be able to walk away from this family and never look back. It was way too late for that. He was going to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER FOUR
ABBY dropped onto the lumpy couch in the lounge, holding Seamus tight, as though for protection, though what from she had no idea. Earlier in the day, at the airport, she’d felt like she could trust him to do the right thing, that he wouldn’t turn their world upside down. That had been in direct contrast to the way she’d reacted to him. The deep pull in her stomach toward him had stunned her. She’d always known she still cared about this man but never had she considered how explosive those feelings might be. No wonder she felt in need of protection. From Kieran? Or from herself?
She glanced across at him wiping down the kitchen benches. Hard to believe he’d cooked dinner. No one did that for her. Not even her father. But Kieran had taken charge, preparing their meal while she’d dealt with the kids’ food. She knew he’d needed something to keep himself occupied and avoid getting too involved in the children’s night-time rituals. He’d watched her feeding Seamus from a safe distance, grimacing when mushy food had ended up on her T-shirt. He had a lot to learn. She called softly, ‘Thanks for dinner, and especially thanks for cleaning up.’
He turned and gazed at her, that bewildered look that had appeared when he had first held Seamus still there. ‘I don’t know how you do this all the time.’
‘Goes with the territory of being a mum. Don’t feel sorry for me. I love it.’
‘I can see that.’ His gaze dropped to Seamus, and his expression became guarded. What was he thinking? Did he accept Seamus as a son? Or as another problem to be dealt with? When she’d placed the baby in his arms Kieran hadn’t known what to do. Even the simple act of holding a child seemed to unsettle him, and when she’d refused to take Seamus back, stepping away from them, he had looked completely lost. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that, but she’d sensed he would need some gentle pushing when it came to coping with the children.
She also sensed his vulnerability, and didn’t know what to do about it, didn’t understand why he felt that way. There was a real possibility of making things worse, not better, unless he opened up and talked about what bothered him. Her stomach clenched. Was this really what she wanted? Kieran becoming involved in the family? Maybe she was setting something in motion that she’d later come to regret, something like having to move to Ireland so they could be closer to each other. A chill slipped
over her skin. Leave home and cross to the other side of the world? No way. Not even for the children’s sake.
But Olivia and Seamus needed him, needed to know him, and already they were further along that track than she’d expected they’d be on day one. Admittedly when she’d forced Kieran to keep holding Seamus he hadn’t been happy, but neither had he protested. Had he thought that would make him appear weak? She hoped not. He wasn’t a weak man in any sense. Holding his son for the very first time had to have had an effect on him, one she hoped he’d absorbed and found he enjoyed. She should be feeling thrilled that he’d not given into whatever had bothered him, but instead she felt rattled.
Throughout the long months of her pregnancy and over the fifteen months of being a single parent, she’d never experienced any loneliness, never worried that she mightn’t cope. And yet now, with Kieran here in her home, she felt uncertain. She couldn’t dispel the sensation of the ground sliding out from under her. Of her life being about to change radically. What if she’d made a mistake bringing Kieran into Olivia and Seamus’ lives?
No. She shoved that selfish idea away. She might’ve done the wrong thing for her but it was right for them.
‘Abigail, are you all right?’ Kieran interrupted her swarming thoughts. ‘You’ve gone awfully quiet.’
Shaking away her doubts, she tried for a deep breath and the strength to cope. ‘Couldn’t be better.’ Couldn’t I? These weird, mixed-up feelings would soon pass. They had to if she was to survive the next eight weeks. ‘I’m going to put this guy to bed, or he’ll be grizzly all day tomorrow.’
So would she if she didn’t get a decent night’s sleep. She’d lain awake for hours last night, worrying about Kieran’s arrival. Tonight she’d just sleep. He was here, and whatever happened would happen, and she could deal with it later. Yeah, right. Who was she kidding?
Kieran watched her with that perceptive gleam in his eyes. If he could read her mind, he’d be as confused as she was. She shrugged. ‘I won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable.’
But not too comfortable. This is my castle, the one place in the world I usually feel safe from everything and everyone. You could so easily destroy that for me by becoming too involved with us. By making my heart remember how close I came to falling in love with you in Dublin. At the end of your term here you’ll go back and leave me with your scent touching my furnishings, my clothes. Your presence will fill the corners, sit at the table, take over my kitchen.
‘I’ll make us some tea. Or do you prefer coffee?’ Kieran still watched her.
‘Tea, thanks.’ See, they didn’t even know the most basic things about each other. Her face warmed. But they did have an intimate knowledge of each other. As the warmth became hot she fled the room, needing to put space between her and the man who’d made love to her so thoroughly she could still remember every detail two years later.
Singing a lullaby as she tucked Seamus under the cotton covers, the peace that usually stole over her at this moment wasn’t forthcoming. Within a few hours Kieran had taken that from her. How much more would he take before he left? Would she survive intact? Would her heart cope? And she’d thought the hardest part of this visit would be the issues surrounding the children. How stupid of her.
‘You’re singing like an Irish mam.’ Kieran spoke softly from the doorway. ‘I like that.’
Abby’s heart leapt. ‘Don’t creep up on me like that.’ Then she focused on what he’d said. ‘Did your mother sing to you?’
‘Yeah …’ The word whispered across his lips. ‘I remember her singing to Morag more than me, but I know I got the same when I was little.’
‘What happened to your mother?’ No one had ever mentioned her, not even Morag.
‘Unbeknown to anyone, she had diabetes. Our father came home one night to find her in a coma on the bathroom floor. She never recovered.’
‘Kieran, I’m so sorry.’ Her heart squeezed for him. ‘How old were you?’
‘Four.’ There was a lot of pain behind that single word.
‘I certainly know how hard losing a mother is, but at least I was an adult.’ Not that it had made it any easier, but at least she had been able to understand some of the process.
Kieran stepped into the centre of the room. Of her bedroom. What had happened to making her a cup of tea? Had he been drawn to Seamus instead?
He asked, ‘Why does Seamus sleep in here?’
‘Because Olivia has the only other bedroom. I don’t want Seamus disturbing her when he wakes during the night.’
Tucking the blue cotton blanket around a very sleepy boy, she didn’t have to look up to know Kieran was studying the room with its bright red and white curtains and bedspread.
‘Hardly ideal. What about some privacy for yourself?’
‘There is no such thing as privacy when you have two small children, believe me.’ Neither was there a need. It wasn’t like she had someone special in her life to share this room with. Her eyes lifted to Kieran. The moisture in her mouth dried. An image of them in bed together filled her head. Trying to shake it away, she swore silently. Kieran would not become that special person. No man would. Hadn’t she learned her lesson well?
‘Surely you must want to take a break from the children at times?’
‘I work so I already get a break.’ Did he think the kids were too much for her? She managed very well, thank you. ‘Dad helps by taking them over to his house sometimes.’ And she began another lullaby.
He didn’t say any more, instead wandered over to stand beside her, looking down at Seamus. What did he see? His family likeness? Did he look at Seamus as his son? Her singing dwindled to a halt. It was hard to sing with Kieran standing so close she could feel the heat from his body. She also felt self-conscious. She didn’t exactly have a fantastic voice.
Seamus half-heartedly waved a fist at her. Or was it at Kieran? Glancing sideways, she studied Kieran watching Seamus. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and he stood with his legs slightly apart. What she wouldn’t give to know what was going on in that head of his.
Reaching into the cot to run the back of her hand over Seamus’s warm, soft cheek, her heart squeezed. Her precious, little boy. She loved him so much she could cry. Kieran had missed out on lots already, which was entirely her fault. A fact she readily acknowledged.
Kieran had surprised her by being nervous when he’d first seen Olivia. There’d been something akin to fear in his eyes, and vulnerability. As though he’d felt completely out of his depth. His movements had been stilted, as though he’d never held a child before. And then he’d had to hold his child for the first time. She’d thought he’d be very much in control of the situation, of his emotions. From what she knew of him, he usually was.
What about when they’d made love? If that had shown controlled emotions then she was a possum. Her skin tingled at the memory of that night. Never before had she known anything like it. Making love with Kieran had spoiled her for ever. There wouldn’t be another man on earth who’d measure up. Which perfectly suited her plan to remain forever single.
Seamus’s eyes closed, blinked open. ‘The little monkey’s fighting going to sleep.’ Abby smiled, first at Seamus then at Kieran, who still kept a closed expression on his face. ‘He does that every night. It’s like he doesn’t want to miss out on anything.’
‘Does he sleep right through the night?’
‘Most of the time.’
From down the hall Olivia called, ‘Abby, Teddy’s got his foot stuck in a drawer.’
Abby chuckled. ‘I’d better go and sort this out as Olivia won’t go to sleep without Teddy.’
Kieran watched her leave the bedroom, totally unfazed by the children’s demands. Damn, but she was good with them. A natural mother. Warmth stole over him. The kids were extremely lucky. He turned back to the boy, who’d finally succumbed to sleep, one fist pressed against his mouth, the other flung above his head. Kieran leaned forward, reached in and ran the back of his hand over Se
amus’s cheek, as he’d seen Abby do earlier. The warmth grew as Seamus’s soft skin seemed to melt against his harsher skin. Beautiful.
Scary. He tugged his hand away, straightened. His body cooled. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t have Abby’s knack with children. Abby didn’t just feed Seamus, she fed him with love. She didn’t bath Olivia, she bathed her with devotion. He didn’t know how to comfort, to play. It wasn’t in him to cherish another human.
Doctoring was about fixing, not nurturing. He didn’t know where he’d start if he had to take care of this little man even for an hour or two. Just standing here, he felt responsible for Seamus and that didn’t sit comfortably.
The earlier panic began rising again. He could not become involved with Olivia and Seamus, become a part of this family. It would take a wet day in hell before he’d be ready for that. Or capable of doing what was expected of him.
Abby heard the phone ringing in the kitchen and wondered which of her sisters that might be. Stephanie’s voice bubbled down the line. ‘Hey, Abby, how’s things? How’s the great man from Ireland? All excited to see Olivia?’
Abby dredged up a laugh. ‘Olivia dazzled him.’ Which was certainly more than she’d managed.
‘I bet she did.’
‘She chattered nonstop to him, but wouldn’t let him bath her.’ Much to Kieran’s relief.
‘I bet Seamus won him over in an instant.’
‘No. That’s a work in progress.’ Neither of her sisters knew who Seamus’s dad was, but they probably had their suspicions. Anyone could do the sum and they’d both known there hadn’t been anyone else in her life since Phillip had turned out to be such a rat. Now was probably the time to tell them, but she’d wait until she knew what Kieran would do.
Thankfully Steph changed the subject. ‘I bought a new dress today for a party I’m going to. Can you take the hem up for me?’
What ever happened to ‘do you mind?’ or ‘please’? Abby sighed. What did she expect? She’d always done alterations for her sisters. ‘Bring it round on Saturday morning.’
