by Jane Linfoot
‘Where the hell did you get that from?’ Damn to the way Dan knew him, better than he knew himself sometimes.
‘I’ve been trying to make you see sense about giving up on the racing for months, and suddenly you do. It has to be because this amazing woman you’ve met has made you realise there’s more to life, and nothing less than love would do that. And if you’re in love, together you’ll find a way through anything. So there really isn’t a problem.’
Easy for Dan to say.
‘But I’ve always seen the whole two-point-four kids, Range-Rover-on-the-drive package as a living hell.’
‘That’s only because you’ve only ever looked at it from the outside, as a footloose guy. When it’s happening to you, the reality is that you’ve got the woman of your dreams to wake up to every morning, and it’s all good. As for kids, as soon as they arrive, you’re smitten.’
‘Maybe.’ True, the thought of Cherry being with him every day filled him with a warm, fuzzy feeling. When they’d come back from their trip to Cornwall, and he’d headed off to Spain without her, he’d felt like he’d lost a limb.
Jackson stared back at the bulky hospital building, and the lighted windows glowing in the dusk. Somewhere inside there, Cherry was being operated on. He picked up his burger, then put it down again. No way could he eat until he knew Cherry was out of theatre. He held it out to Dan. ‘Can you manage this?’
‘Sure.’ Dan took the box from Jackson. ‘In the meantime, chill. You’re in love, and the rest will follow. It’ll all be fine. You’ll see.’
Jackson raised his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth plummeted doubtfully. ‘Thanks mate, I wish I had your confidence.’
Chapter 46
‘I think you’ve got everything there that Bryony might want in the morning, Jackson. She’ll definitely appreciate having her make-up, and that loose cardigan will be practical and easy to put on to come home in.’ Phoebe sent Jackson an affectionate smile as he zipped up the hold-all.
‘Thanks for your help. I’d never have thought of taking hair straighteners.’
He’d left Cherry at the hospital around midnight, woozy, but comfortable, her arm newly plastered, with the promise to return first thing complete with supplies.
‘Believe me, to some of us straighteners are indispensable.’ Phoebe crossed the room, then paused for a moment as she reached the bedroom door. ‘I know you’re probably struggling to get your head round all this, Jackson, but it isn’t just the guys who struggle. Remember, for a newly-pregnant woman there’s a lot to get to grips with too, especially when it’s come as a surprise. Don’t mind if Bryony takes a while to get used to the idea.’
Jackson clung on to Phoebe’s womanly insight. Maybe that explained the reticence. ‘I thought she was desperate for kids, but she looked pretty gob-smacked when she heard.’
‘That’s exactly what I mean, Jackson, and her hormones will be all over the place too. Just don’t take it personally, and prepare to be patient.’
‘She’s not joking there.’ Dan rolled his eyes, and sent Jackson a meaningful stare as Jackson and Phoebe wandered into the living room. ‘But kids are great, I mean you love Daisy, don’t you?’ Dan hurled out a joke. ‘When she isn’t screaming, that is.’
‘Don’t listen to him Jackson.’ Phoebe was adamant. ‘What you feel for your own kids is different altogether. It’s like falling in love all over again.’
‘Right.’ Jackson sounded doubtful. He wasn’t totally sure he’d nailed the love thing for the first time yet.
‘Jackson’s already over the moon, aren’t you?’ Dan’s punch, decidedly too energetic for two in the morning, made contact with his arm.
‘Getting there.’ Jackson gave a grimace. ‘Except…’ This one was another biggie, which had been bugging him all the way home from hospital. ‘What if I turn out like my own dad? I wouldn’t want to inflict that on any child of mine.’
Dan shook his head. ‘That’s not going to happen, you really aren’t like him.’
‘What, I’m not a hard, limelight-seeker, who will drive his kids for his own gain, or worse still hammer them?’ Jackson gave a sour guffaw. ‘I just have this nightmare thought that I’ll have a kid and turn into him.’
‘No way. You’ve always been like your…’
Jackson rounded on him. ‘You weren’t going to say I’m like my mother, were you?’
‘I was.’ Dan gave an apologetic grunt. ‘But only because it’s true.’
Phoebe broke in. ‘You two still not in touch?’
‘Nope.’ Jackson couldn’t keep the bitter note of his voice. ‘My mother walked, she got her new life, end of.’
‘It’s a long time ago now.’ Phoebe’s calm hand arrived on his arm. ‘Who knows, you may find a grandchild brings you together, Jackson.’
Now he’d heard it all.
‘I think we might be expecting a lot too much from this child.’ Jackson shook his head at Phoebe.
‘Don’t underestimate it, little ones can be very powerful. Whatever, you’re going to make a fabulous father.’ Phoebe grinned up at Jackson. ‘Isn’t he, Dan?’
‘Damn right he is.’
Jackson reeled at another hearty slap on the back from Dan. ‘Thanks guys.’
‘We haven’t exactly done a lot.’
‘You made me see it’s possible. Earlier this evening I wanted to get on a bike, and not stop pedalling. Whereas now…’ He hesitated. It seemed too much to give a name to the butterflies playing round his stomach. ‘I feel much better about it all.’
But as he waved Dan and Phoebe off across the moonlit gravel, making their way back to the main house, he knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night.
Jackson pushed his way out of the lift, arrived in front of the Nurses’ Station and rested the hold-all on the floor. If the clock on the ward wall was right, he’d arrived at 9.30 sharp, just as they’d instructed him last night.
The duty-nurse put down the papers she was shuffling through, and looked up from behind her console. ‘Lovely flowers – someone’s lucky.’
The cellophane crackled as he transferred the huge bouquet from one arm to the other. First thing Monday morning, one mention of a pregnant casualty, and the florist had super-sized the already gigantic bunch he’d ordered.
‘They went a bit overboard with the bows.’ He gave a shrug. ‘I’m here for Bryony Marshall. Is it okay to go through?’ Silently he cursed his stomach. It had been churning gently all through his sleepless night, and now it was whirling like a washing machine on full spin. Surely morning sickness was what expectant mothers got, not fathers.
‘Ms Marshall? Right.’ The nurse pursed her lips, doubtfully, and got up. ‘One minute, I’ll just check for you.’
She headed off down the ward.
Jackson tapped his foot impatiently, shifted his hold on the bouquet again and hoped he wasn’t putting too much trust in horticulture to smooth the way with Cherry. No idea what reception he’d get this morning, but he was in this for the long haul and somehow he needed to let her know that. To take his mind off the wait, he began to study the wall posters. He read every poster on the wall at least five times over, in detail. By the time he heard the squeak of the nurse’s shoes on the lino, announcing her return, he knew every sign of cancer by heart, and how to have a good time being healthy too.
‘I’m very sorry.’ She arrived at his elbow, slightly breathless. ‘Apparently Ms Marshall signed out earlier.’
‘What the hell?’ Jackson’s gut hit the deck. ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right person? Bryony Marshall? She’s broken her wrist.’ He tightened his grip on the flowers, and the scent of freesias seeped out into the air.
‘I’m afraid so.’ The nurse gave him a sympathetic look. ‘It caused quite a stir. Someone came and picked her up in a helicopter, it landed on the roof of one of the office buildings opposite apparently. She’s definitely gone.’
Brando’s flying squad. Jackson opened his mouth, then clos
ed it again, tried to swallow away the instant urge to vomit and dragged his phone out of his pocket to check for messages.
Nothing. He blew out his cheeks.
‘Fine. Thanks for that, and if that’s that case I may as well leave these with you.’ He balanced the flowers on the desk with a bitter laugh. ‘Doesn’t look like I’ll be needing them.’ Then he turned on his heel, and strode towards the stairwell.
Chapter 47
‘You know what Brando’s like. He waltzed on in, hauled me away and here I am.’
Bryony held the phone away from her ear and screwed up her face in self-disgust at the way she was telling Jackson it was Brando’s fault that she’d landed up at here at Edgerton. Hiding out in the Cotswolds was not her usual style. She could have easily stood up to Brando when he came blustering into the hospital ward, given she’d spent a lifetime perfecting the art. Any other time she’d have told Brando exactly where to stick his interference, but this morning the offer of being airlifted right out of trouble had simply been too tempting. Brando had caught her in a moment of weakness and she’d given in. Never before had his huge, rambling country house offered her so much refuge. Somehow she just needed time to come to terms with the idea that there was a baby growing inside her. Who’d have thought that something which was still only the size of a bean could turn her whole world upside down like this?
She didn’t feel proud of herself for leaving Manchester, in fact she felt like the worst sort of coward for bailing. And then she’d compounded the crime by dithering, completely undecided on whether to ring Jackson, or message him, and while she was agonising over what to say he’d tracked her down and called her, so now she was in a worse position than ever.
‘You can’t just run away, Cherry, you’re having our…’
Jackson’s words would have stung more if they hadn’t sounded so desolate.
Maybe he had a point, but for the time being at least, by being here she could blank out what was happening.
She’d managed to cut him off before he said the b-word. ‘B’, stands for baby, for bombshell. ‘I know that Jackson, and I also know it’s time I took responsibility for my actions. It’s completely my fault I broke my wrist yesterday, and now I’m paying for my bloody-mindedness, insisting I could ride that tandem when I obviously couldn’t.’ Diverting him in any direction other than the obvious one here, because no way was she ready to talk about that situation when she hadn’t started to get her own head round it yet. Her immediate rush of feeling about actually being pregnant was of surprise and delight. It was the rest of the complications that made her head for the hills.
‘Yes, but I should have stopped you going on the front of that tandem, I should have protected you, that’s the point.’ Great. He’d taken the bait, and was running with it. ‘What I’m trying to say is from now on I want to be here to protect you, and I’m going to make damned sure I look after you. You and the…’
Dangerous territory! She swooped in to cut him off again. ‘You don’t need to worry, I am being looked after. I had a medical check when I got here, and I’m fine.’ Saying that Brando’s doctor was waiting, stethoscope in hand as she’d stepped from the helicopter made it sound like too much fuss. She swallowed hard as her heart fluttered towards her throat. No way was she ready to talk to Jackson about the baby, because it would acknowledge his involvement, and she wasn’t sure she could cope with that. Not yet. There were too many other things she needed to get straight in her head first. Her chest tightened at the sense that he was closing in. ‘Shea’s here to help too and you’re flying to Spain this afternoon, so we’re all good.’ No need to mention that sister-in-law Shea, having given birth herself twice in two years, had all things pregnancy-related covered.
‘Holy crap Cherry, don’t be ridiculous, I can’t go to Spain now.’
‘Sorry?’ She reeled as he raised his voice. Not what she wanted to hear. ‘You need to prioritise, Jackson. Dan said it’s important you go to Spain to wind things up.’
He began again, more calmly. ‘I’m categorically not going to Spain until I know…’ He broke off, and when he spoke again his voice was grating with frustration. ‘You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening, Cherry.’
Maybe not. But she had to be firm here, buy herself time to think and plan. She hauled in a breath, dug deep for the long-suffering, patient tone that really said don’t mess with me.
‘I’m fine, and there’s nothing that can’t wait.’ Nine months – or was it seven now – was a long way in the future. Plenty of time. She shuddered and gave a mental grimace. A twang of guilt at the veiled desperation in Jackson’s voice made her throw out a last reassurance. ‘We’ll talk when you get back.’
With any luck he wouldn’t try to pin her down on that now.
‘Hmmmmph. We’ll see about that.’
One disgruntled groan, and he’d put down the phone.
‘You know Jackson is very welcome to come and stay, anytime.’ Shea put down the tea tray, pushed a stray curl behind her ear, and gave Bryony a worried smile as she sat down. ‘For as long as he wants.’
Bryony quaked. Shea was a fabulous hostess, but something in that last comment sounded way too welcoming for someone who was practically a stranger to her.
‘Thanks, but he’s very busy. He’s off to Spain, and after that he’s got a whole stack of other commitments.’ Bryony was surprised how convincing it sounded when she said it out loud.
‘Right. So he’s not exactly figuring in your immediate plans then?’ Shea hitched towards the edge of the sofa and began to pour the tea.
Fleetingly, Bryony wondered why there were four mugs on the tray. ‘He just retired because he wants to be free, and no way am I going to get in the way of that. And he hates the idea of families.’ However comfortable she’d been feeling with Jackson, and however happy she was to be having a child, she couldn’t bear to think he was only with her out of honour. Pushing him away would free him from that obligation.
‘I see.’ Shea’s eyebrows lifted. ‘So, are you two an item?’
Bryony raised her eyes up to the twinkly chandelier, gazing around the elegant spacious room that served as Shea and Brando’s snug. She gave a don’t-know-where-you-got-that-idea-from shrug, and wished she hadn’t when pain zipped up her arm. She had to stamp on this idea, and fast.
‘No, we’re not even seeing each other. I was in Manchester for a dinner, but that was a total accident, and I kind of accidentally stayed on for the weekend.’
‘Hence the gossip page reports Brando was hopping about?’ Shea’s forehead furrowed, but she still flipped Bryony a reassuring smile. ‘A big weekend all round for accidents then.’
‘You could say that.’ Bryony grimaced. ‘Jackson was appalled by the gossip reports though. I knew from his reaction to those he wasn’t even ready to be a couple, let alone anything else…’ Bryony’s voice trailed to nothing. Where the hell had her feistiness gone?
‘Here, a slice of Mrs McCaul’s lemon drizzle will make things seem better.’ Shea leaned across, and passed her some tea and cake. ‘And I know I’m asking too many questions, but I wanted to get things straight before…’ Shea hesitated.
When exactly did everyone start acting like they were treading on eggshells?
‘Before Brando comes?’ Bryony looked at Shea over her mug, and took a sip of tea.
‘No.’ Shea pursed her lips, and took a breath. ‘Before Jackson arrives.’
Bryony’s splutter sprayed tea across the carpet. ‘What?’ Her voice was a strangled shriek. This couldn’t be happening.
Shea pushed back her hair, bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but Jackson got in contact, and Brando’s flying him in, although I’m not certain it’s an entirely friendly gesture. Brando seems to feel it’s his place to question Jackson’s motives. I’m slightly worried that Brando’s only bringing Jackson here to give him a hard time. You know how Brando always wants to fight your corner.’
Th
is had to be the last thing she wanted to hear.
Bryony dabbed the tea-soaked carpet with a tissue, then put a finger on her temple to stem the sudden throbbing. ‘Why the hell are they making such a big deal out of this?’
‘Well, they’re men…’ Shea gave a sigh. ‘And often men who care jump in with both feet.’
Worse and worse. The word ‘care’ sent a shudder right through Bryony.
‘Jackson and I don’t have that kind of thing. Caring doesn’t come into it, Jackson’s more about…’ She broke off. Hot sex wasn’t what she wanted to reveal, even to Shea. ‘Well, that’s just not how Jackson is and I’d never ask him to change.’
‘Don’t underestimate Jackson. Despite their big blundering feet, men can surprise you, and sometimes they change all on their own, simply because they want to. Remember Brando?’
Bryony had to admit that three years ago, when she’d thrown Shea into Brando’s life, Brando had undergone an unbelievable transformation. But this was very different. Brando had been way past ready to settle down and he’d made a free choice, whereas Jackson was just about to taste freedom for the first time in his life, and had every reason to feel compulsion here. No way did she want that on her conscience.
‘You worked your own spell on Brando, Shea.’ Bryony smiled across at her small, pretty sister-in-law. ‘I’m not in your league, and some days Jackson is so arrogant he makes Brando seem like a lamb.’
‘He should be here any time now.’ Shea glanced at her watch, and flashed a rueful grin in Bryony’s direction. ‘Strong wills run in the family, I reckon you’ll be able to swing whatever outcome you want.’
Easy to say. If only she knew what outcome that was.
‘This really isn’t necessary Brando.’ Bryony leaned back against the sofa cushions and exhaled wearily.
‘You’re having his child and the guy was running out on you.’ Brando stood by the tall sash window, tapping the sill.
