The Pregnancy Discovery

by Barbara Hannay

  Dolly spoke. ‘I had never been one to chase after boys. I didn’t really know much about—er—passion. But with Tom, it was love at first sight and it was a love so big that neither of us could hold back.’

  Meg was quite certain she understood. People could fall in love in a heartbeat. Look what had happened to her last night.

  She thought with a sigh, poor Dolly. She’d met Tom, had loved him and had lost him in such a short space of time. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Sam when she’d only just begun to know him.

  ‘Well, there…’ Sam began to speak, but his voice cracked and he had to start again. ‘There is certainly a strong family likeness.’

  Dolly nodded. ‘It’s quite remarkable, isn’t it?’ She opened the manila folder. ‘And here’s the wedding certificate.’

  In silence, Sam accepted the folder. Meg sat back and watched his face as he read the details carefully. She wished there was something she could do to make this easier for him. He looked so grim and worried. She would have loved to stroke that furrowed brow, or to kiss away the tension in those unsmiling lips.

  Dolly spoke softly. ‘I’m afraid we had to get married very quietly in a civil ceremony. The navy wouldn’t have given Tom permission to marry in the middle of active duty, so it was all rather clandestine.’

  Sam’s expression grew darker than ever. He handed the photo and folder back to Dolly. ‘Thank you for showing me these.’

  After Dolly put them on a small side table, she sat down again opposite them.

  Sam cleared his throat and nodded towards the folder on the table. ‘I might have to let my lawyers take a look at that licence at some stage.’

  Dolly nodded. ‘I don’t mind.’ Her eyes gleamed as she smiled at him ‘I would love to read Tom’s letter.’

  ‘Oh, Dolly, I hope you can see it soon.’ Meg couldn’t hold back her emotional outburst. ‘It’s just the most beautiful message.’

  Sam swung around and glared at her. ‘We still have to determine who it was written for,’ he said coldly.

  ‘Ease off, Sam,’ Meg murmured reproachfully. How could he be so hard? Couldn’t he tell how disturbing all this must be for Dolly?

  His eyes met hers, read her dismay and flicked away again. He addressed the old lady. ‘You know that my grandfather was already married before he left the States?’

  For a long, awkward moment, Dolly stared at him, open-mouthed. Slowly she began to shake her head. ‘Oh, no, dear. I’m quite certain he wasn’t.’

  Sam’s voice rose. ‘Of course he was. My grandmother was already expecting a baby—my father.’

  Dolly’s gaze lowered and she fiddled nervously with the pleated skirt of her blue floral dress. Her lower lip trembled. ‘I don’t know anything about a baby. When I read in the paper that Tom had a grandson, I was quite shocked.’

  ‘There was most definitely a baby. My father’s name was Jefferson Thomas Kirby. He was born in 1942.’

  ‘I’m sure Tom didn’t know anything about a baby either.’ After a pause, Dolly added, ‘That’s sad.’ She raised her glistening eyes again and bit her lip. ‘Tom told me about his fiancée. Her name was Judith, wasn’t it?’

  A strangling sound emitted from Sam’s throat. Meg watched with alarm as a red tinge crept along his cheekbones and reached the tips of his ears. He drew in a sharp breath. ‘Judith was my grandmother’s name.’

  Straightening her elderly shoulders as much as she could, Dolly spoke slowly, directing her gaze steadily at Sam. ‘I am quite certain Tom and Judith were never married. He told me he would contact Judith and break off the engagement just as soon as he could. I know he tried, but I never heard if she received the message.’

  Meg felt Sam’s shock reverberate through his body. He slumped as if he’d been slugged with something heavy.

  ‘You didn’t try to contact her at all…after…afterwards?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Dolly sighed. ‘I wrote several letters to Tom’s family in Seattle during the war—and after the war. None of them was ever answered. If I’d had the money, I would have travelled over there to try to find someone.’

  Slipping her hand into Sam’s, Meg squeezed gently, but if he noticed he didn’t acknowledge her attempt at sympathy. He seemed dazed.

  ‘This is all very strange,’ he said at last. Then, as if the fog cleared, he shook his head and snapped to alert attention again. ‘I’m going to have to consult with my lawyers before we can—take this any further.’

  He stood abruptly, letting Meg’s hand slip out of his as if he hadn’t even noticed it was there. She struggled to send Dolly a reassuring smile.

  ‘Thanks for—for informing us. Good afternoon,’ Sam said with a stiff little nod of his head. Then he frowned at Dolly. ‘And I’d prefer if you kept this just between ourselves for the moment.’

  ‘Of course.’

  The three of them made their way back down the narrow hall to the front door. There was a hurried, unsatisfactory exchange of farewells, then Sam took off down the path with Meg following. She turned and offered one final little wave to Dolly before getting into the car.

  They headed back into the city. Meg drove the car Fred had provided for use on the mainland, while Sam sank back in the passenger’s seat and released his breath in a long, drawn-out sigh.

  ‘That was tough,’ she suggested as she turned into the main road.

  He leaned an elbow on the windscreen ledge and rubbed his forehead slowly. ‘This whole business about Dolly just doesn’t make any kind of sense.’

  ‘It must be a shock for both of you.’

  ‘I can’t believe my grandfather would…’

  Sam shook his head as he left the obvious dangling.

  He found it so hard to believe that his grandfather had been married to anyone else but Judith Kirby. When he was little, he’d been more than a touch afraid of his grandmother. She was a haughty, snobbish woman—who had always dressed impeccably and found small boys rather noisy and troublesome. She had been highly regarded in Seattle’s best social circles.

  Later, when he’d grown tall and had developed less noisy habits, she had favoured him more fondly. He wondered now, how she’d felt when he’d grown to look so much like Tom Kirby. He was mildly surprised that she’d never commented on the fact.

  How would she have reacted to this news from Dolly? What would she have said to the possibility that her husband had committed bigamy? Of course, she would have dismissed the notion as rubbish.

  It had to be rubbish.

  The thought of his grandmother refuting such an idea with a toss of her silver hair and a sniff of her patrician nose reassured him for a moment. A very short moment.

  But the evidence of that photo and the certificate was a little hard to ignore. If the documents were frauds, they’d been prepared by professionals.

  He pressed tense fingers against his forehead. Of course, it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that one of Kirby & Son’s competitors had a hand in all this.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts.’ Meg’s warm voice penetrated his speculations.

  ‘You wouldn’t like them.’ He sighed. He had seen the way she’d been so caught up in Dolly’s story. If the little old lady was a fraud, Meg would be devastated.

  ‘Cheer up.’ Her hand lifted from the gear stick to give his a friendly squeeze.

  He sent her an attempt at a smile. Damn it, the last thing he wanted to be doing with Meg was sifting through the sordid details of his grandfather’s love life. They should be adding a few interesting details to their own.

  ‘Sorry you had to get mixed up in this,’ he told her.

  ‘I started it,’ she reminded him, flashing him a quick grin. ‘I was the one who found the bottle. Maybe I should have just left it stuck in the sand.’ She steered the car into the car park next to the ferry terminal. Once she had parked, she said. ‘A necessary change of subject. Did you want to do anything else before you head back to the island?’

  Reachin
g over, he touched her soft cheek. ‘Changing the subject is an excellent idea.’

  In the past, when the pressure of work had threatened to overwhelm him, he’d developed a habit of deliberately focusing on something else for an hour or two. He’d always come back to the problem with a clearer head. Often he’d drive off into the mountains of Seattle’s hinterland. Sometimes he’d visit his favourite childhood haunt—the Aquarium.

  He smiled at Meg. ‘If we could shop for some exotic ingredients, would you let me into that neat little kitchen of yours, so I could cook dinner tonight?’

  Her eyes widened and he noted that her irises reflected hints of the mint-green colour of her dress. ‘You can cook?’ she asked, her smile a cheeky challenge.

  ‘Isn’t cooking a part of every modern bachelor’s repertoire?’

  ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ She unsnapped her seat belt. ‘The odd fellow might manage to barbecue sausages to a delicate shade of black, but that’s about it. And you mentioned exotic ingredients. I’m impressed.’ Leaning over, she kissed Sam. It was a playful, teasing kiss full on his lips.

  And it was all that it took to completely change his focus.

  Now wasn’t the time to admit that he had only practised and perfected one recipe and that, after that, he was back to opening cans of beans. Instead, he trapped her lovely face between his hands and returned her kiss. The gear stick was a bit of a problem and they were both grinning, so their teeth collided a little, which meant it wasn’t an award-winning kiss.

  But it didn’t matter. Hell, nothing seemed to matter when Meg was this close. This tempting.

  She pulled away, giggling. ‘If we hurry with our exotic shopping, we should still be able to catch the next boat.’

  ‘OK. Now, where’s a good seafood shop? I need crayfish, king prawns, scallops…’

  As they made their way around the shopping centre unearthing Sam’s ingredients, Meg tried to ignore the way her common sense kept pricking her. She didn’t want to be reminded that this sudden flash rerun of yesterday’s happy, charming Sam wouldn’t last.

  Any minute now, he could become reabsorbed in his problems. She decided the best she could do was make the most of this time out. Perhaps the story of Dolly and Tom’s brief love had taught her a lesson? To seize the day? The hour? The moment?

  The way she felt about Sam was so surprising. She had never expected to become so smitten by a man she’d only just met.

  And she had certainly never expected to feel so ecstatically happy searching for udon noodles, baby bok choy or oyster mushrooms. The intensity of her feelings bubbled through her as if her veins had been filled with soda pop. There could only be one explanation. The same one she’d arrived at last night. She loved Sam. Loved him, loved him, loved him.

  She hadn’t been looking for love. It had just leaped into her life without knocking first. And, while Sam hadn’t actually mentioned love, he’d told her that he’d never felt this way before either. Knowing that, felt good.

  His smiling eyes met hers through a carefully stacked display of pumpkin-soup tins and a delicious, joyful shiver skittered over her. She felt like dancing a jig down the aisles. She sure hoped Sam didn’t intend to spend too much time in the kitchen. She had other plans for this evening.

  Last night’s lovemaking had left her with an incredibly desperate need for more.

  ‘All I need now is ginger and soy sauce,’ he said.

  ‘All I need is another kiss.’

  A smile tugged at his lips. ‘Come here, then.’ He pulled her behind the tins of soup and, ducking his head, kissed her soundly on the mouth. ‘How much time do we have?’ He growled the words, nuzzling her neck just below her ear. ‘I hadn’t realised shopping was so seductive.’

  She couldn’t help grinning as she glanced at her wristwatch. ‘We should just make the boat.’

  There was a dreamlike quality to their happiness as they rushed through the checkout and sped back to the ferry terminal.

  The only man who’d ever cooked for Meg had been her father. She loved the idea that Sam wanted to impress her with his skills in something as domestic as cooking.

  She could visualise everything. She would tuck a tea towel around his waist, turn her stereo on and pour two glasses of wine.

  Sitting on the end of the bench, she would admire the way he chopped and sautéed. No doubt they would exchange quick, cheeky kisses whenever he came near her. They’d be laughing and joking…

  And then, afterwards…

  On the ferry, they sat outside on the upper deck, close together, while the wind and the sea rushed and slapped noisily about them. It was hard to talk. The ends of sentences were whipped away by the wind, so they smiled at each other instead. And they touched in deceptively casual little ways—a hand resting on a shoulder or a knee—a nose brushed against a cheek—lips against hair.

  Each touch, each look set off flash points of longing so that it took all Meg’s self-control not to throw her arms around Sam and make a public spectacle of herself.

  On the island once more, Sam loaded the shopping into the back of the Moke, while Meg slipped into the driver’s seat. All she could think about was being alone with him again. She was frustrated by the length of time it took to negotiate the narrow road to the resort. It followed a series of hills and valleys as it wound its way over headlands and skimmed along the flat edges of palm fringed bays. Finally, they chugged into the driveway of Magnetic Rendezvous.

  ‘I’d like to pick up my laptop before I come to your place,’ Sam said. ‘At some stage, I need to send some e-mail messages back to Seattle.’

  ‘OK,’ Meg replied, trying to sound offhand about the fact that he could think about business right now when all she could think of was kissing him and touching him.

  Sam captured her hand and swung her towards him. ‘I’ll see you in five,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t go away. I’m going to need some help in the kitchen.’ He rubbed his thumb gently over her lower lip and smiled slowly, his eyes trapping hers—making every pulse in her body throb. His mouth dipped to tease hers. ‘Actually, any old room will do, but I’m going to need you there, Meg.’

  She felt the flames leap into her cheeks and she couldn’t reply. There was no way she could talk. She wasn’t even sure she was still breathing. A feverish longing was eating her up. In a daze, she hurried to her cottage and shoved the seafood into the fridge. Her senses on high alert for the sound of Sam’s footsteps, she hurried into the bathroom and cleaned her teeth.

  She had never felt so fired up, so highly sensitised, so tingling with expectation. So hot! She was smouldering with such wild thoughts, there was every chance that, when Sam walked through her doorway, she would shock the socks off him.

  When her phone rang, she ignored it. There was no way she could carry on a normal conversation with anyone right now. She checked her watch. Five minutes he’d said. Well, it was bordering on five minutes now.

  Meg tried to calm down. She strode through to her kitchen and filled a glass with water. As she drank it, she closed her eyes and willed herself to relax.

  Sam’s phone rang just as he was heading for the door with his laptop under one arm. He grabbed the door frame for balance as he stopped abruptly and scowled at the squat little phone sitting on his coffee table. It continued its insistent ringing. Damn it! He knew a telephone could be annoying but, now, when he was on his way to Meg, it was an instrument of torture. Slamming his palm against the door frame, he hovered for another second, then stepped outside and shoved his door closed behind him.

  Whoever was calling could wait.

  Meg glimpsed Sam’s profile as he strode past her kitchen window. Then she saw the back of his tanned neck and the neat line of his hair before he disappeared around the corner of the cottage. By the time he reached her front door, the slim laptop at his side, she was there too. He grinned, bent down and kissed her cheek.

  ‘I missed you,’ she whispered.

  For a moment, he leaned away from h
er to deposit the laptop carefully on her dining table but, when he straightened, he reached to her, hauling her close. ‘I’m here to stay.’ His smiling gaze linked to hers. ‘You know, those eyes of yours give you away every time.’

  ‘What colour are they now?’ she asked.

  ‘Sweetheart, I’m not talking about their colour.’ His kiss was hot and hard and Meg couldn’t hold back her soft sighs of pleasure.

  The telephone rang again.

  ‘Damn phone,’ Sam muttered against her mouth as he deepened the kiss. Her arms rose to entwine around his neck but, as the sound from the kitchen persisted, he groaned.

  Reluctantly, Meg dragged her lips from his. ‘There was someone ringing here earlier, but I’m afraid I ignored it,’ she admitted.

  ‘I had a call that I didn’t answer, too.’ Sam glared at the phone.

  ‘Pity I don’t have an answering machine.’

  ‘I wonder if they’ll keep trying all evening?’

  ‘Best get rid of whoever it is.’ With a heavy, regret-laden sigh, Meg released her hold on his neck.

  ‘You want me to take it?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Thanks.’

  She watched as Sam snatched up the receiver. After grunting his name, he listened in silence. A silence that went on way too long.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MEG watched as Sam stood with one hand propped against the kitchen wall and listened intently to the caller. He stared down at the white tiled floor and shook his head. ‘There’s got to be some mistake!’

  Oh, no, she thought and her stomach clenched. What’s gone wrong? She took a tentative step closer.

  ‘There’s got to be a record somewhere.’ Sam yelled into the phone and she heard a note of rising frustration in his voice. His eyes closed as he concentrated hard on whatever his caller was saying. He nodded as he listened in agitated silence. ‘OK. OK,’ he said at last. ‘Yeah. I met her. She has a certificate. Yes, yes, I’ll get back just as soon as I can.’ He pressed the disconnect button and dropped the phone before covering his face with his hands.