Brought Together by Baby

by Margaret McDonagh

  The funeral service and the burial that had followed had been simple but dignified. Seeing Julia laid to rest in Strathlochan’s churchyard beside her mother and father—with Holly’s own mother on the other side—had been emotionally draining, bringing back memories good and bad.

  Watching Gus had made her heart ache for him. He’d withdrawn further into himself and, standing across from her, still as a statue, his face had been an unreadable mask, as if hewn from granite. He’d looked gorgeous in a dark suit and tie—gorgeous but unapproachable. His suffering had brought tears to her eyes. However hurt, angry and confused she was by his rejection, she would never have wanted this to happen to him.

  George and Kelly had been working, and unable to attend, but Gina and Ruth had been on either side of her, each holding one of her hands, Seb and Rico—the latter having flown over from Italy, which had touched her hugely—had stood behind them, supportive and understanding.

  Always unpopular, Julia had barely spent any time in Strathlochan since she’d left home at seventeen, so Holly had been surprised by the number of people present.

  ‘I can’t believe how many came,’ she’d murmured to her friends as they’d walked back through the churchyard to the lych gate.

  ‘They aren’t here for Julia,’ Gina had murmured back. ‘They’re here for you, hon. And Gus.’

  Gus had stood next to her, shaking hands and thanking people for coming, and she’d sensed his tension as people offered their condolences. Witnessing his grief had left her feeling inept, unable to think of anything to do or say to comfort him and alleviate his sorrow. The cause of his pain intensified her own.

  Once everyone had gone apart from Gina, Seb, Ruth and Rico, who’d waited nearby, Holly had laid a hand on Gus’s arm.

  ‘Oh, Gus, I’m so sorry.’ Her voice had wavered and the breath had locked in her lungs as he’d met her gaze, his deep green eyes cooler and more distant than ever. ‘I know how you feel—’

  ‘No, you don’t know how I feel, Holly,’ he’d replied harshly, a bitter, angry edge to his voice as he’d shaken off her hand. ‘You have absolutely no idea. You made your position clear months ago. I don’t know what you’re trying to do now, but it won’t work. I don’t need you or your crocodile tears.’

  She’d stood motionless as Gus had walked away, watching his solitary figure, crushed by his reaction. His accusing words and the angry disgust as he’d uttered them had rung in her ears. As her friends had moved to her side she’d tried to stifle the sob that rose within her. Gus’s rejection and the emotion of the occasion had all been too much to bear.

  ‘What happened?’ Ruth demanded with a frown.

  As Gina put an arm around her Holly haltingly told her friends what Gus had said. ‘He looked at me as if he hated me. I don’t understand what I’ve done or what went so wrong,’ she finished brokenly, unable to hold back her hurt.

  ‘Oh, Holly!’ Gina exclaimed, hugging her.

  Ruth handed her a tissue. ‘I don’t think for a minute that Gus hates you. He’s hurting, and he’s just lashing out at whoever is closest.’

  ‘Ruth’s right, hon,’ Gina stated, with more conviction that Holly could muster. ‘And, while I hate to speak ill of the dead, I wouldn’t put it past Julia to have painted you in as bad a light as possible to Gus.’

  ‘Maybe…’ Holly secretly agreed with her friend’s assessment. ‘But Gus didn’t have to believe it. And what was the point? She’d already won, taken everything I wanted. She had Gus’s ring on her finger and was carrying his baby.’

  They were silent, lost in thought at the tragic end Julia had faced and the miraculous survival of baby Max.

  ‘Perhaps Julia still felt threatened, knowing how close you and Gus had been and how you felt about him?’ Gina sighed, her expression thoughtful. ‘I’m worried about you—we all are. Holly, sweetheart, you have to stop breaking your heart over Gus.’

  Holly sucked in an unsteady breath, unsure if it was possible for her already shattered heart to break any further. ‘It’s not like that,’ she lied, frightened and despairing, because—despite everything—she loved Gus as much as ever.

  She felt guilty for her emotions about Julia. There was deep sorrow, of course, but she couldn’t deny the relief after all Julia had done to her. And the anger, not only for endangering her baby but for the ultimate betrayal with Gus.

  ‘I’m such a horrible person,’ she whispered as the three of them followed Seb and Rico, who had gone on ahead of them.

  ‘What rubbish!’ Gina exclaimed.

  ‘You’re the least horrible person I know,’ Ruth added, resting an arm around her waist.

  Gina nodded in agreement. ‘You’re feeling a natural human reaction. Julia made your life a misery from childhood. Of course you have mixed feelings. No one thinks badly of you for it…we certainly don’t.’

  ‘Most people would have given up on Julia years ago,’ Ruth pointed out. ‘But no matter how much she hurt you, you never turned your back on her.’

  Holly closed her eyes, recalling the things Julia had said and done over the years. Pain assailed her as her secret loomed, leaving her feeling empty and hollow. A secret she’d shared with no one—not even Gina, Ruth and George. Besides her GP, only Julia had known, and her callous reaction hurt as much now as it had at the time. It made her sister’s final, most wounding betrayal with Gus all the more devastating.

  ‘Ruth’s right, hon,’ Gina insisted, taking her hand, concern etched on her face. ‘Holly, are you sure you’re doing the right thing, moving into Gus’s house to help with little Max?’

  A shiver ran down Holly’s spine but she doggedly ignored it. ‘It’s all I can do.’

  ‘It’s going to be hard on you,’ Gina advised, squeezing her hand.

  ‘I wish I wasn’t moving to Italy in August and could stay to support you. Promise you’ll ask if there’s anything I can do,’ Ruth instructed, giving her a hug. ‘We can’t help worrying about you, Holly.’

  She was grateful for her friends’ care and support. ‘I have to do this—for Max, for Gus and for me,’ she stated, hiding her doubts and anxieties from them even as a knot of fear and despair tightened its grip. What did the future hold in store?

  Now, alone in the nursery, she recalled that conversation. Behind the words and outward smile she was scared witless. It would be horribly awkward moving into this house—the home Gus had shared with Julia. Being around him kept her on a knife-edge of tension as she tried to hide her feelings for him and her hurt confusion at his change in attitude towards her. He might need help with Max, but she had little doubt that accepting it from her was a last resort and done with reluctance. It hurt.

  Sighing, she switched on her radio and continued putting the finishing touches to the nursery. Gus hadn’t yet seen what she’d done, and she was nervous of his reaction. The nervousness was mixed with uncertainty about facing him again following his parting words at the church. He hadn’t returned to the house following the funeral, and she couldn’t help but worry about him, hurting for his pain but also pained herself at the distance between them and the knowledge that he’d loved Julia and not her.

  Instead she tried to focus on the exciting news that Max was coming home tomorrow—provided Mr Haggerty and his team were happy when they did their morning rounds. Her heart swelled with love every time she thought of him or saw him. However difficult forced proximity with Gus became, she would make the best of it and remind herself of what mattered: Max.

  Further questions had been asked about Max’s unusual development, but Gus remained adamant about the date of conception. She so wanted to believe him. Because, as painful as the knowledge was that Max had been conceived on the night Gus was meant to have been out with her, to discover Gus and Julia had been together before that would be an even more bitter pill to swallow.

  She was on the stepladder, hanging the curtains she’d had made, when she heard the key in the front door. Gus was home. Wariness and anticipation fille
d her. What would he think of the nursery? Had she gone too far? Would Gus even bother to come upstairs when he realised she was there? A tense knot tightened in her stomach and her fingers shook as she worked her way slowly along the first row of hooks, her senses attuned to the man downstairs.

  The bravado and the front of self-confidence with which she’d attempted to fool Gina and Ruth crumbled to dust. She wanted to run away and hide so that Gus couldn’t hurt her any more.

  Anxious about what would happen when they came face to face again, she waited with bated breath for the sound of his footsteps climbing the stairs.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘DAMN!’

  The sound of the radio was the first thing Gus heard as he stepped inside his house and closed the front door behind him.

  Holly was in the nursery.

  A mix of emotions swirled inside him. The temptation to leave until she went home was huge, but he resisted, knowing it was ridiculous. Not only was it his house, but in a matter of hours she would be moving in, and as they shared the responsibility of caring for Max in the forthcoming weeks he would not be able to avoid her for ever.

  If she still agreed to the plan. After the way he’d spoken to her at the funeral he wouldn’t blame her for avoiding him. He’d been much harsher than he’d intended, his emotions wound taut by the strain of the occasion and trying to maintain the role of grieving husband with the guilt it engendered.

  Reluctant to face Holly, he went to the kitchen and took a can of cola from the fridge. He enjoyed a long pull of the icy drink before pressing the can to his forehead, welcoming the coldness against his skin. It had been a hot day…one that had been more difficult than he’d anticipated.

  Gus closed his eyes, recalling the ordeal of the funeral. The large turnout had surprised him, while the kindness and sympathy offered by the people present had made him horribly uncomfortable. Their condolences had rendered him awkward and stilted—and incredibly ashamed that it was not grief he felt, as everyone presumed, but relief. Not that Julia was dead—never that—but at being freed from their loveless marriage.

  He cursed under his breath. What kind of man was he? They’d both been miserable these last months. He recalled the moment Julia had come to the hospital, tearfully announcing in front of his colleagues—including Holly—that she was pregnant. He’d been stunned. And still unable to remember anything of the night in question. But wishing it wasn’t true hadn’t made it go away. He’d shouldered the responsibility, determined to do the right thing.

  Julia had wanted someone to take care of her, and after his own unhappy upbringing he’d been adamant his child would never grow up the same way. It had to be legally binding to safeguard his rights to his child and Julia had agreed, however reluctantly, to a marriage in name only.

  He couldn’t blame people for thinking the marriage had been genuine and he was grief-stricken. And how could he explain the truth without sounding callous? Julia had given him a son. The least he could do was to preserve her memory in the eyes of her family, friends and the community. For Max’s sake as well as her own.

  He’d given Julia the security, home and money she’d wanted, in return for full responsibility for the baby. They’d lived under the same roof, and in the beginning they’d rubbed along fairly well—if not as friends, then at least with polite tolerance. But the atmosphere had become tense and increasingly hostile as the months went by.

  Julia had hated being pregnant. Gus took another drink and opened the kitchen door, welcoming what fresh air there was in the hot summer evening. As a doctor, he’d understood as well as any man could that pregnancy wrought huge changes to a woman—physically and emotionally. Some women breezed through the nine months with few problems, enjoying the whole experience, while others had spells of illness, morning sickness and general bad moods and discomfort. Julia had experienced the worst of everything. He’d tried to make allowances and be patient, but Julia had been difficult to be around. Nothing had suited her and she’d complained constantly. He’d stuck it out…for the baby.

  His heart missed a beat as he thought of his beautiful son. How could he regret anything when Max was the result? His childhood had left its mark, and he’d sympathised with Julia when she’d spoken of becoming estranged from her father because of Holly. She hadn’t divulged details of the rift, but he’d understood Julia’s feeling alone without her family. Now Julia was gone and he was left with Max and the fearful responsibility of learning how to be a father.

  Tomorrow he would bring Max home. Part of him was relieved Holly would be around, yet he couldn’t help but be wary of her motives. If she was putting on an act he’d soon know: she couldn’t keep it up indefinitely when living under the same roof.

  Unable to avoid her, Gus headed for the stairs, curious to see the nursery. He halted in the doorway, captivated by the sight that greeted him. Holly was balanced on the stepladder, hanging colourful curtains, the material gently fluttering in the welcome breeze through the open windows.

  She’d changed out of her dark funeral outfit and was dressed in cut-off faded denim shorts that left her legs bare to mid-thigh. Perfect legs…beautifully shaped and silky smooth. Arousal slammed into him. His gaze roved up the teasing swell of her bottom, outlined by the stone-washed fabric of her shorts. As she stretched to reach the furthest hooks on the curtain rail, the hem of her T-shirt rode up, exposing a tantalising strip of pale gold skin across her lower back.

  The lavender-coloured top framed her curves, and as she moved he could see the outline of firm, exquisitely shaped breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He forced his reluctant gaze to continue upwards. Her wavy blonde hair was tied in a haphazard ponytail, a few strands escaping to feather her neck and make-up-free face. As he watched her concentrating on her task, her pink tongue-tip peeped out of the corner of her mouth. She looked ridiculously young and innocent and tempting.

  Angry, ashamed and confused by his instinctive attraction, Gus ducked back into the hallway and leaned against the landing wall before Holly saw him, taking a moment to regain control before making his presence known. How could he still feel like this about Holly? It was a warning he’d do well to heed if he was to maintain his guard. He didn’t want to be fooled and hurt again.

  Hearing the stepladder being folded, Gus sucked in a steadying breath and returned to the nursery. Holly was humming along with the music on the radio while she cleared away her things, her back to him. He gave a cough to announce his presence, and she swung round with a little ‘Oh!’ of surprise, a faint wash of colour on her cheeks.

  ‘Hi,’ he greeted her, voice gruff, as she fumbled to turn off the radio.

  ‘Hello.’ Her smile was tentative and uncertain. ‘I’m finished.’ Her movements jerky, she continued gathering up her paintbrushes. ‘What do you think?’

  For the first time he dragged his disobedient gaze away from her and turned his attention to what had once been a square white boxroom, lacking warmth or character. What he saw rendered him speechless. The nursery had been transformed into something any young child would dream of, with an array of colourful cartoon characters dancing across the walls.

  How had Holly achieved this? He turned a slow circle, finally arriving back to face her again, noting her nervousness as she clasped her hands together, her sky-blue eyes wide with uncertainty.

  ‘You did this?’ he managed, his tone betraying his incredulity.

  ‘Y-yes.’ She swallowed, her tongue-tip peeping out again to lick her lips. ‘I’m sorry. Once I started I got a bit carried away. If you hate it I can paint over it. I—’

  ‘Stop.’ She did, nibbling the end of one finger with even white teeth. ‘God, Holly, how did you manage it in so few days? I had no idea you had such a talent for art.’

  Once more her cheeks flushed, giving her a becoming rosy glow. ‘I haven’t—not really. But I enjoyed it. I want Max to be happy.’

  ‘Max will love it.’ Still stunned at what she had done, he surveyed the room
again, a lump in his throat. ‘I love it. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure.’

  An electric silence hummed between them and it took a tremendous effort of will for him to force himself to look away and not give in to the crazy urge to hug her. Instead, he crossed to the window, ostensibly to inspect the curtains—which, he discovered, she had made herself—but in truth it was a ruse to put distance between them.

  ‘I didn’t realise the time,’ she murmured, sounding awkward again. ‘I’d better go. If it’s all right, I’ll move my things in after breakfast tomorrow, ready for when Max comes home.’

  Tomorrow. Everything was happening so fast. ‘That’s fine.’ Which was a lie. It was far from fine. He needed to reinforce his barriers if he wasn’t going to fall for her again.

  As she jogged down the stairs and closed the front door behind her he wondered what he’d agreed to. But whatever the cost to himself, Max needed Holly. He pressed the heel of one hand to his sternum, dismayed by the ache of yearning.

  Would he never learn?

  Despite everything, he was as vulnerable to Holly as he’d always been. For the sake of his son, and if his own heart wasn’t to be trampled a second time, he had a few short hours to rebuild his defences before Holly moved in and turned his life upside down.

  Again.

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure about this, Holly?’

  As George parked the car outside Gus’s house, Holly nodded in response to her friend’s anxious query. Just as she had when Gina and Ruth expressed similar concerns, she hid her fears and doubts about the wisdom of her actions. She could see no other viable option: Max’s needs overrode everything else.

  Turning her head to hide her misgivings from George’s probing gaze, Holly stared through the passenger window at Gus’s solid semi-detached Victorian villa. Situated along a tree-lined road in a quiet residential area of town, it was built of sandstone with a slate roof—typical of the local architecture—and there were views of the hills from the master bedroom upstairs. A room she didn’t want to think about.