by Annie O'Neil
Matteo considered Harriet through narrowed eyes—eyebrows rising as he realized how much he had changed since her arrival. He was drawn to her. Kept seeking her out “just to make sure everything was all right.” Right now his time would be much better spent filling out grant applications, updating records or looking for future sites, and yet here he was, sitting in a flowery arbor wanting nothing more than to ensure she was all right. Wanting her happiness over his own. And yet he let her believe he wanted nothing to do with her—their child. What kind of man did that?
“It isn’t that she doesn’t want me there. In Los Angeles,” Harriet finally began, a small shake left in her voice, though the tears had now dried. “Like I said, we’re all organized to meet up in London at our house, the house our parents raised us in, in a few weeks anyway.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s that...it’s that she doesn’t need me.” Her face tightened to fight another round of tears. “She said she wants me to be happy—but I am happy when she needs me!”
Matteo fought an urge to lift her up from the ground and into his arms, hold her, soothe away the tears. But this was her battle and something told him to stay where he was. Let her work through the emotional turbulence on her own. What she was processing now seemed to be getting to the heart of who Harriet thought she was.
“So, let me get this straight. Your sister doesn’t want you to go to Los Angeles so you will be happy—but you won’t be happy unless she needs you?”
“It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that but, yes.” She tossed him a guilty-as-charged expression.
Had she said something to her sister indicating she was happy here? With him?
“Do you think being needed is the same as being loved?”
“Of course not. It’s just... I guess it’s just always felt like proof that I’m worthy of being loved.”
“Of course you’re worthy of being loved! You’re one of the most loveable people I’ve ever met!” They stared at one another, shell-shocked, his words hanging between them. In that moment he felt that if anyone needed Harriet in their lives it was him. If anyone loved Harriet it was him. He loved her, but until he laid the ghosts of the past to rest, he couldn’t give her the love she deserved.
He cleared his throat, forcing the clinician in him to step in. The one who took an emotional step back from everything. From everyone.
“Have you told her you’re unhappy here?”
“No.”
Nice to know he hadn’t been that much of an ogre.
“And how well does your sister know you?”
“Better than anyone.”
“So she would know what was right...for you.” He was treading on thin ice now. This was about what was best for Harriet, not about keeping her here. Even though—¡qué diablos!—God help him, it was what he wanted.
Harriet tipped her head back and forth, carefully considering his question. “Claudia knows how to live life.”
“And you?”
“I know how to care for the living.” She shot him a horrified look. “That sounds awful! I mean, not the caring part—I love the caring part—but it sounds like...like I’m not living.”
Bingo. This, he suspected, was what Harriet’s twin wanted for her. To live her own life. Not in the shadows of everyone else’s.
“So...what do you want to do?” he asked cautiously.
“To live?”
Matteo couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling? Telling.” She steadied her voice and tried it again. Deeper. “Telling you.” Then like a robot, “I. Am. Telling. You. I. Want. To Live.”
He watched, delighted as she dissolved into laughter with another rush of tears. Tears, he was relatively sure, that were happier this time. He felt touched. Deeply so. Had he just witnessed an epiphany? Now to just sweep all of the other emotional revelations back under the carpet. He put on his officious voice.
“It sounds to me as if your sister is being well looked after. Are we agreed on that?”
“Yes.” Snuffle. Giggle.
He handed over a fresh handkerchief. In his line of work, at least two were needed per day.
“And Claudia loves you very much.”
“I like the way you say her name properly.” Harriet blew her nose. “No one pronounces it correctly.”
He laughed. He loved the way she found pleasure in the little things. Was still in her sister’s corner, no matter how minor the infraction.
“Could it be that Claudia finally sees you doing something for yourself and doesn’t want to be the one to bring it to an end?”
Harriet looked at him blankly, lifting her hands in an I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about gesture.
“How often have you been there for your sister?”
“Always,” she answered instantly.
“And how often do you put yourself—your needs, your desires—ahead of hers?”
Harriet shrugged uncomfortably. The answer was obviously “Never” and it wasn’t sitting well.
“Is being here the first time you’ve done something for yourself? Stepped outside your role at the hospital: Reliable Harriet?”
“Working at St. Nick’s makes me happy.” Harriet responded defensively.
“Of course! I’m not saying it doesn’t. But there’s something in you—isn’t there, amorcita?—wanting to break free of the role you’ve cast yourself in. See more. Be more.”
“I didn’t cast myself in the role! My family needed...” She stopped. Reconsidered, eyes widening as she looked at her past from a different perspective. “It was me, wasn’t it? I put myself in that role. They loved me no matter what.”
“Exacto. I would wager anything you were always loved. No matter what.” The vision of a family came to Matteo. Himself, a wife, children—he wasn’t sure how many—all of them laughing together as they shared a meal.
He cleared his throat again, giving his chin a rough scrub as he did so.
“Or maybe I am talking complete and utter nonsense.” He filled in the growing silence between them.
“Actually...” Harriet drew out the word before conceding with a sheepish smile, “I think you might be right.”
Matteo looked at her, his mind temporarily confusing the vision he’d just had with the reality. They were talking about Harriet and her sister, not some fantasy family scenario that could never exist. Focus. Regroup.
“My sister does want this for me. She was over the moon when she heard about you.” Her eyes popped wide open, cheeks instantly going pink with embarrassment. “I mean, that I was working here.”
“And what about you?” Matteo asked, his voice smokier than usual. “Do you want to stay?”
Harriet forced herself to meet the gaze she knew was resting on her, half hoping there would be an answer waiting there. They weren’t talking about her sister any longer.
She knew what her heart was saying. With every pore in my body! But if staying meant stomping her heart into smithereens every single day...she wasn’t sure how much she could take. Decisions she made for herself were now decisions she was making for her baby.
She looked into Matteo’s richly hued eyes and saw kindness there. Friendship. But no commitment. He’d never promised it and something within her knew he was a man who stuck to his word.
The heart, thumping against her breastbone, was telling her what she already knew. She was in love with him and would have his child.
Her brain shrank to the size of a pea then had its own Big Bang, exploding into countless trains of thought.
Was the whole situation flawed? If that meant Matteo didn’t sweep her up, race hand in hand to the judge to make her his wife the moment they’d seen the pregnancy test, sure. But who did that? He was p
robably still in shock at the news. She knew she was. And a shotgun wedding wasn’t what she wanted anyway.
She wanted to marry someone who was in love with her. And in love with babies. All babies. Their babies. Matteo, painfully gorgeous and kind as he was, wasn’t that man. So. Home it was. Home alone.
She looked away, busying herself with some unnecessary color-coding of the laundry pile. She didn’t want her child to think she was a wimp. High-tailing it home to her safe and secure life at the first sign of trouble? Okay...it was a pretty big thing, but it wasn’t trouble. It was...a curveball. And there were pluses to staying here. She’d learn more about Matteo. Have more of a fleshed-out portrait to paint for their child one day. Understand what made the idea of having a child so inconceivable to him.
So. She’d focus on the good.
Where would she start? With those lush green eyes she could quite happily ogle until the end of time. And who had hair so beautifully desirable? She’d find another way to describe to her baby about the thick black hair she’d thrilled in running—no, raking—her fingers through in a moment of unbelievably heated passion. The night of mutual desire they’d shared had been more than she would ever have hoped for even a few weeks ago. And a surprise baby to boot? Life was certainly giving her a triple whammy in the Big Changes department. And she was going to meet them with a smile.
Matteo may not share her feelings but she knew she had it in her heart to admire him for all the things he was. Strong. Impassioned. Driven.
All traits she admired. Ones she would love for the child growing in her belly to possess. So. It was time to choose.
Need. Want. Love.
Letting go of what she’d thought life had in store for her...embracing what she did have?
The words raced around her mind as she worked her gaze round the courtyard. Not even here a fortnight and she was already enjoying the volume of hands-on work her day involved. Being a research nurse was wonderful, but it was watching, observing, noting.
Here, with the absence of resources of St. Nick’s, there was little choice but to muck in and she was loving it. From laundry to nursing poorly children to helping pregnant teens give birth. It was like tapping into a side of herself she hadn’t seen for a long time—if ever.
Colors seemed brighter. New aromas took her by surprise every day. The lush green and tropical citrusy scent of so many plants bursting to life, despite the fact it was winter. A very balmy version of winter it would be all too easy to get used to, she thought, shivering away the memory of a murky London in winter.
If she stayed for the few weeks she’d scheduled, she could channel her passions towards being the woman she wanted to be for her family. Her growing family.
A smile teased at her lips as she gave the final pile of folded laundry a decisive pat. She heaved up the overloaded wicker basket and shot Matteo a grateful smile.
“Thank you. You’ve been a great friend.”
“I’ve not done anything.” He looked bewildered.
“Of course you have!” You’ve helped me to believe in me.
“Am I missing something? Are we booking you on the next flight to America or...?”
“You’re stuck with me for the time being, I’m afraid. If that’s all right.”
“Of course! You’re welcome, for as long as you like.” He reached out as if to touch her, then pulled back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Pretty sure.” No. “Definitely sure.” She twisted back and forth, the laundry basket a buffer between them. “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You treat me the same as any other staffer here.” Her chin jutted out a bit, a visual confirmation that her mind was made up. She would do this thing—and do it with style.
“I will do my best.” He nodded his head as he spoke.
“It’s all any of us can do.” And she meant it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“SORRY TO INTERRUPT.” Harriet had already tapped on Matteo’s door a couple of times, to no avail, but having peeked through the open sliver of doorway she could see he was deep in thought over a pile of paperwork.
“Sí?” Worry lines creased his forehead.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes, sorry. Just...” He pushed the papers back and stood up from the desk, taking what looked to be a long overdue stretch. “Managing budgets is never much fun.
“No.” Harriet gave a sympathetic smile. “That was definitely my least favorite part of the job.”
“Was?”
“Is.” She laughed nervously. Of course her job back at St. Nick’s was still hers. Is. Is. “I’ve obviously taken to fewer responsibilities a bit too easily.”
“Are you saying working here is easy?” Matteo gave her the first genuine smile she’d had from him in weeks and... Yes. It still worked. Still made her feel all gooey inside.
She leant against the door frame for a bit of support and smiled back. They’d been flat out for the past fortnight. Births, a couple of emergency Caesareans, infants needing admittance to NICU, not to mention day-to-day care of the older children. And she was getting the impression this was normal. She’d become adept at filling in anywhere there were holes in the staff roster—shifting from art lessons with the little ones who weren’t yet in school, to infant care, to cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner, and on to the clinic to for pregnancy checks, scraped knees, blood tests... It had been quite a learning curve and she’d been loving every second of it. Not to mention it gave her a really thorough look at how Casita Verde worked.
The moments with Matteo? Few and far between. She afforded herself a quick scan of the room. Matteo’s Inner Sanctum. People either didn’t go near it or hovered outside the doorway and waited. A time limit had pressed her to go ahead and knock. It wasn’t like he was scary or anything. He was just... Matteo, the casita’s Lone Ranger. And his room was... Wow, it was stark. Monk-like. She’d hardly imagined him hiding away in a sultan’s lair, but she hadn’t expected bare walls and a single bed. Hadn’t he mentioned parents? Ones who flew around the world in private planes?
“So...what can I do for you?” He was distracted. She was taking up his time.
“Oh! Yes, sorry.” She pushed herself back upright and gave her blouse an unnecessary swipe. “Some of the schoolchildren are going to the zoo today and they need chaperones. I was wondering if you minded if I went along.”
He stared at her blankly.
“You want to go to the zoo?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it was number one on my tourist destination list, but I haven’t seen much of Buenos Aires and thought it would be a great way to be with the children and see a bit of your beautiful city.”
“And you are going to the zoo?”
“Um...” She chewed on her lip for a second. Did he have something against the zoo? “If that’s all right. They’ve got capybaras and you can feed them!” His eyes widened. Perhaps that was a bit too enthusiastic. He was, after all, trying to work.
“The rodents. The large ones,” she explained. Another blank look. “You know, I don’t have to go. There’s plenty to do here.” She looked over her shoulder for an invisible to-do list.
“So you don’t want to go.”
Was he confused or just choosing to be obtuse? Come to think of it, he looked a little...vacant. Had he even heard anything she’d said?
“Matteo.” Harriet chose her words cautiously. “You look a bit funny.” Okay. Maybe not that carefully.
“What?” He managed to get some ink on his cheek in examining himself for “funniness”. She itched to swab it off with her thumb, give his lips a little kiss.
No! No she did not. Being pregnant with his child did not mean she automatically got kissing rights. They’d agreed to be f
riends. No benefits. It was sensible.
But being sensible didn’t seem to have seeped through to Harriet’s body, which still ached for him. Honestly? It was difficult to believe she would ever desire someone as much as—
“Sorry, I’ve just had my head down in the books and all I’m seeing is numbers, numbers, numbers, blurring together in a big mess.” Matteo threw his hands up into the air in frustration. “Each of the numbers means a child does or does not get help, receive medicine, have new books to read...” He stopped, gave her a self-effacing look and smiled. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“What?” She’d actually just been watching his beautiful lips move. She’d heard this speech before. Not that he was boring. Not by a long shot.
“Telling you what you already know.”
There was that smile again. My goodness, the man had one heck of a bobby dazzler.
“Matteo...”
“Yes, Harriet?” He pronounced her name formally as if they’d suddenly been transported to Edwardian times. It made her laugh. Relax. He was good at that, too.
“Do you fancy coming to the zoo with me?”
* * *
“How many buckets of feed do you think we have gone through already?”
“I don’t know. Maybe three? I’m sure the children have had loads more!” Harriet squinted up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“The children have had two—I don’t think they’ll be wanting another now that they’re all mesmerized by the bears, the little savages. Quit dodging, Miss Monticello. How many buckets of feed have you gone through?” Matteo didn’t really care. It was just fun to quiz her. She had more of her sister in her than she’d thought. Harriet didn’t do anything by halves and feeding the free-roaming animals at the zoo was no different. A genuine carer, no matter what the species. Their child would be well loved. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to focus on her reply.
“Uh...let me see. The first bucket was when we saw the baby deer...”
Matteo watched avidly as she added a finger to her bottom lip each time she counted a new bucket. Had he realized how beautiful her mouth was when he’d first seen her in London? Stupid question. Of course he had. Otherwise he wouldn’t have... It was meant to be one night! And yet—hadn’t he been the one to convince her to stay when her sister had her twins? A twin having twins. His eyes slipped to Harriet’s belly. Could she be having...?
