My Estranged Lover (Middlemarch Shifters Book 5)

by Shelley Munro

  “Are you a student at the university?”

  “Yes, I’m studying art and design, specializing in textiles. You?”

  He claimed a quiet spot on the deck and pulled her close, his muscular arms cupping her shoulders before one slid behind her back. “Agriculture and business.”

  His warm breath feathered across her neck, left bared because she’d clipped her hair up in deference to the warm summer night. A shiver worked through her. His scent thrilled her—a hint of citrus aftershave with green and wild undertones. He smelled of the outdoors and clean, healthy male. Much better than the fellow student who’d tried to cop a feel in the lift the other day between classes.

  “Do you live at home?”

  “No,” Caroline said. “My parents wanted me too. Even though it’s cheaper, I wanted independence, to make my own decisions, you know? So I’m rooming with my best friend in one of the varsity accommodation blocks.”

  “I’m flatting with friends from Middlemarch,” Marsh said. “The guys I was with at the bar. We went to school together and it made sense to share a flat. Brothers? Sisters?”

  “I have an older sister. She lives and works in Auckland. She’s eight years older than me.”

  Marsh fell silent and seemed content to sway to the music and hold her. When the music ended, she expected him to thank her and rejoin his friends.

  He didn’t.

  He pulled back so he could see her face. “Would you like to go for coffee? I’d offer to buy you dinner, but a coffee is as far as I can stretch,” he said.

  “You don’t have to buy me a coffee.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  She studied his expression, instantly suspicious, but sincerity blazed from his sexy face. “There is a McDonald’s two streets away. I don’t have much cash either, but if we pool our resources, we might manage a hamburger each.”

  “Thank you.” He took her hand again. “I’ll tell my friends I’m leaving. Do you need to tell anyone?”

  She nodded. “I’ll send a text to my friend.”

  Ten minutes later, they entered the fast food restaurant. With a coffee and a burger each, they’d talked for two hours, learning about each other. Her initial wariness seeped away, leaving the seeds of something else. Friendship. Attraction.

  “I have to go,” Marsh said.

  Caroline glanced at her wristwatch and nodded. “I should leave too. I need to finish making a dress to wear to the races so I have an entry for the Best Dressed contest.” She stood, the easy conversation of earlier sticking in her throat. Was this it?

  “I had fun,” Marsh said. “Can I walk you home?”

  Her breath eased out. “Thanks, but it’s not necessary. The student accommodation is three blocks.”

  Marsh reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. “I’ll walk you home.”

  The start of their romance. Marsh had kissed her cheek and left her at her door, appearing at the races the next day, cheering when she’d claimed the runner-up prize in the Best Dressed contest.

  “Mum. Mum!” James tugged on her cardigan sleeve, jerking her from the past, their courtship, the good years.

  “Yes.” She glanced at the clock on the far wall and reached for James’s lunch box. “Is your school bag packed? It’s time for us to walk you to the bus stop.”

  After pulling on jackets, Caroline hustled her two boys out the door. They waited at the bus shelter, the bright red school bus puttering along the road four minutes later. With James aboard, she and Ricky wandered back to the house. Once the kitchen was clean again, Caroline turned her mind to packing and remembered she’d lent Marsh’s parents their suitcases when they’d gone to Fiji for a holiday.

  Great. Just great.

  She steeled herself to visit Dawn Rutherford. The woman had never liked her and made no secret of her attitude. She did, however, dote on Ricky, which was why Caroline decided to take her son with her. Hopefully, Ricky’s presence would halt Dawn’s questions.

  A ten-minute car ride later, Caroline pulled up outside Charles and Dawn Rutherford’s home. A two-story brick-and-tile home, set like a jewel amongst a lush garden. Dawn had a way with plants and often hosted gardening groups to tour her extensive gardens. Each season, she chose a color theme and even with autumn’s arrival the bright beds of red and white roses, petunias and pansies blazed in synchronized perfection.

  Caroline dragged in a deep breath to brace herself and turned to Ricky with a bright smile. “Are you ready to visit Grandma?”

  Even though Dawn and Charles remained distant to her, they spent time with their grandchildren. In the early days of their marriage, she’d mentioned it to Marsh. He’d shrugged and said they’d always been that way, but he admitted their attitudes had shifted for the worse after his older brother Angus had died in a car crash.

  The front door to the house opened and her slim mother-in-law stood waiting. Her gaze flickered over Caroline, from head to shoes, the scrutiny taking mere seconds but leaving Caroline feeling lacking.

  Dawn Rutherford smiled, the light of laughter and humor sloughing away her disapproval. “Who are you?” Her voice bubbled with teasing, love shining in her jade-green eyes. “Do I know you? Have you come to rob my cookie jar?”

  “Grandma! Grandma! I’m here!” Ricky shouted gleefully, used to this game. “It’s me. Ricky.”

  Even at this time of the morning, Dawn looked ready to hit the shops or go for coffee. Caroline became acutely conscious of the too-tight shirt that hung over her faded jeans to hide the fact she could no longer fasten the button of the fly. No danger of her trousers sliding to a puddle at her feet.

  Caroline followed her excited son up the path, her comfortable runners dragging against the decorative cobblestones. Trepidation tightened her throat and dried her mouth and she resisted the urge to wipe her sweaty palms against her thighs.

  “You just caught me,” Dawn said in the crisp, no-nonsense voice she reserved for Caroline and sometimes her son. “The girls and I are hitting the shops in Dunedin.”

  “I won’t keep you then,” Caroline said, forcing the words across her desert-dry tongue. “I’ve come to collect the two suitcases we lent you for your trip to Fiji.”

  “Oh?” Two well-plucked brows rose in punctuation of the unuttered question.

  Caroline didn’t answer, merely waited. Less is more. Less is more.

  Dawn huffed out an irritated sigh, her gaze speaking volumes. “I have time for a quick cup of tea, and you can tell me about your upcoming trip. Marsh didn’t mention a holiday when he dropped by to speak with Charles. Would you like a hot chocolate and a cookie?”

  Ricky nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, please.”

  Pride rose in Caroline. He was a good boy. She and Marsh had made awesome children, even if nothing else they did together worked any longer.

  Dawn led Ricky inside and Caroline followed. Her mother-in-law had a knack with decorating and colors. The interior of the house formalized the welcome stated by the gardens and façade. Magazine-ready and on the official side. Wooden floorboards gleamed underfoot and an Oriental runner ran the length of the passage from the hall. Caroline dawdled, a trace of envy filling her at the smart cream walls and the framed photographs of Mount Cook and other Otago landmarks even though entering this house made her worry about breakages and clumsiness.

  Closer to the kitchen a cluster of framed paintings, bright and bold children’s artwork, should have jarred, but they added to the charm. She paused, a quick smile of pride relaxing the stiffness from her shoulders. James had inherited her artistic talent.

  “You’re dawdling.”

  With a sigh, Caroline entered the kitchen.

  “Sit. Sit,” Dawn said.

  Caroline rounded the kitchen table and pulled out a chair while watching Ricky and Dawn. Both had jet-black hair and green eyes. Both were slender. Both moved with an animal grace.

  A frown pulled at her. God, she had to stop this self-pity. Some marriages d
idn’t work, no matter how hard the parties tried. She needed to grab for bravado and move on. That was what she’d decided, wasn’t it?

  Dawn bustled around the modern kitchen, chattering to Ricky the entire time and giving him small tasks to help. Soon the peaty scent of one of the exotic teas her mother-in-law favored filled the kitchen. Dawn set two mugs on her black granite counter plus a plate of cookies. She settled Ricky at the small table she kept for the children.

  A few minutes later, she poured tea into the china mugs. She handed one to Caroline plus the plate of cookies. Her gaze did that brief scan of Caroline’s voluptuous body again, a silent message that Caroline should stay far away from cookies.

  “I’ll get the milk.”

  “Thanks.” Caroline stared at her mother-in-law’s back for an instant then reached for a cookie. She bit into the crisp treat and closed her eyes to savor the chocolate hit. When she opened her eyes, she found Dawn frowning at her.

  “Here is the milk.”

  “Thanks.” Caroline tipped a generous portion into her mug to help disguise the strong flavor. She preferred coffee.

  Dawn slid into a chair and cupped her mug in her hands. “Why do you need the suitcases?”

  Caroline considered lying, then straightened her shoulders. She looked her mother-in-law in the eye. “Marsh and I are separating. I am moving back to Dunedin.”

  Dawn had an impassive face unless she wanted to broadcast her emotions. Caroline caught surprise then a trace of satisfaction before the woman’s features blanked. She was pleased—happy—she and Marsh were splitting up. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Caroline didn’t believe her for a minute. “So, the suitcases?”

  “I’ll get them for you. They’re in the spare bedroom.”

  “Thank you.” Caroline took a sip of the hated tea to rinse the dryness from her mouth. Her stomach swooped and writhed and her entire body prickled with perspiration, but she slouched with relief. That hadn’t been as difficult as she thought.

  “I suppose we can babysit while Marsh is working. It shouldn’t be too difficult. James and Ricky are good boys.”

  Alarm, followed by determination, bolted Caroline from her slump. Her spine hit the chair. “There won’t be any need for babysitters. James and Ricky are going to Dunedin with me.”

  “No.”

  Caroline jumped to her feet, the chair scraping across the tiled floor of the kitchen with a nail-on-blackboard shriek. “We are leaving this afternoon. I want to get the boys settled and—”

  Dawn stood too, temper and determination in the set of her jaw. “No, I won’t allow it.”

  Fury swept Caroline, and for once, she stood her ground and spoke her mind. “James and Ricky are my sons. They will stay with me. This is not your business and you need to butt out of our marriage. I’ll take my suitcases now. Ricky, we’re going home.”

  Chapter Two

  Dawn Rutherford stared after the departing vehicle. Those boys couldn’t leave Middlemarch. Her grandsons bore feline genes. They’d shift to feline in their teens. City living and felines were a bad combination.

  Marsh’s fault for marrying a human.

  An unplanned pregnancy didn’t mean he had to marry the girl.

  Stubborn lad. He’d always acted contrary, insisting on going to university and earning the money to go by shearing sheep during every holiday. If he’d stayed on the farm to help Charles, this wouldn’t be an issue. If he’d married one of the local girls as they’d wanted him to, but no, Marsh had gone his own way, which had been the polar opposite to their wishes.

  Things would have been different if Angus hadn’t died. He’d been the eldest, a good son, a dutiful son.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of her beloved son, cut down in a senseless car accident. Killed by a human and…no. That was enough of the past. She needed to focus on the future. Dawn trudged inside, the pain still as fresh as when it had happened.

  She glanced at her watch and sighed. The shopping excursion didn’t hold the same appeal it had earlier. About to cancel, the crunch of car tires on the gravel parking area outside indicated Anita’s arrival. She hurried to the bedroom and scooped her handbag off the queen-size bed. Her friend might have a solution. Those boys needed to stay in Middlemarch.

  Anita pounded on the front door. A widow in her mid-thirties, she was younger than Dawn but the two women got on well. The door opened before Dawn reached it and Anita stood there beaming.

  “I’ve got my comfortable shoes, and I’m ready to hit the shops.” Anita wore her black hair pulled back in a braid, had highlighted her pink lips with a berry-colored lipstick while her sparkling green eyes appeared more dramatic with judicious use of eyeliner and mascara. She was a stunning beauty but spoke little of her marriage. Her husband had been much older and his adult children had created friction within the relationship. That was all Dawn knew. While Anita had an active social life, she didn’t intend to tie herself to a man again.

  “I think I’ll stay at home after all.” She pulled a face. “My shopping mood has vacated the building.”

  Anita grasped her forearm and tugged. “You have your handbag. We’re going. If you’ve had a crappy morning, you can unload during the drive to Dunedin. No, don’t argue.”

  “All right.” Discussing it with Anita might help. She’d make a better listener than Charles. Her husband tended to bluster and shout, which achieved nothing. “Let me get my shoes, and I’ll be ready.”

  “Good.” Anita grinned. “How does a foot massage and a pedicure sound to you? I have a voucher for a new spa place that has just opened, and I’ve made appointments for this afternoon. We’ll recover from our morning shopping with lunch and spa pampering. We’re meeting the others at the mall.”

  Five minutes later, Anita sped along the road, heading for Dunedin.

  “Tell me what has you so silent and brooding,” Anita said.

  So Dawn told her everything.

  “Oh dear. That is a pickle.”

  Dawn snorted out a laugh, feeling better for sharing the problem. “What should we do?”

  “Have you spoken to Marsh?”

  “Not yet, but he’s made it clear in the past he won’t listen to our advice.” Dawn pressed a hand against her breastbone in an attempt to alleviate the stress of the situation. Easy to see her past mistakes now. “I—we—didn’t approve of the marriage and made our stance obvious. If we’d—”

  “No point worrying about maybes or regrets,” Anita cut in as she overtook a tractor. “You need to take action now. Have you considered approaching the Feline council with the problem? They’re always saying they’re there for the community, and this can’t be the first time this has happened. Perhaps they’ll have a solution—something you haven’t considered.”

  Dawn considered that and nodded. “I’ll ring Valerie now.”

  She dialed the feline elder and spoke rapidly, outlining the problem.

  “We have a meeting in an hour,” Valerie said. “I’ll get back to you.”

  * * * * *

  Marsh arrived home from shifting the stock to find Caroline packing. “What’s going on? I thought we were going for coffee.” He eyed the bags on top of the bed, the neat piles of clothes.

  “Marsh, I can’t go on like this. Our marriage isn’t working, and I c-can’t take it any longer.”

  Fear ripped through him, clamping around his ribs so hard he had to fight to breathe. Caroline couldn’t leave him. Surely there was something they could do, a compromise. Resolve forced him to speak. “Let’s get that coffee. You can tell me what you want to do.”

  “We don’t have to go for coffee.”

  “Ricky can play and we can sit outside and talk. It’s neutral ground and the public place will keep us both calm.” At least he hoped he could control his feline.

  “I…all right,” she said finally.

  A small victory. He balled his fingers and sharp nails sliced his palm. Damn feline was close to the surfa
ce. He sucked in a deep breath, struggling for calm.

  “I’d better change.”

  “Why? You look fine as you are.” She’d pulled her strawberry-blonde hair back in a ponytail and wisps had escaped to frame her face. The pale pink T-shirt she’d changed into after a quick shower hugged her curves while faded jeans completed her outfit.

  “I should go on a diet.” She lifted her chin, pained blue eyes challenging him.

  “I think you look gorgeous,” he said without hesitation and reached for her hand. His feline found comfort in the physical contact and a soft purr played through Marsh’s mind.

  “Let me change my jeans.”

  “I’ll organize Ricky while you do that,” Marsh said.

  She nodded and scuttled from the room like a spooked sheep.

  Marsh exhaled, knowing he had a difficult task ahead. Their marriage had drifted for months, the last year. Somehow, he had to fix this mess because, if there was one fact he knew, it was he wanted Caroline as his wife.

  Ricky was playing in his bedroom, the broom-broom noises making Marsh smile. Marsh stopped at the doorway, opened his mouth to speak and paused.

  “What are you doing, son?”

  Ricky turned, a guilty expression on his face. “Painting.”

  “I don’t think Mum will approve of you painting on the wall.” Caroline walked up behind and craned to peer over his shoulder. Instead of moving, he stayed put so she’d have to squeeze next to him.

  “Are those James’s paints?”

  “Ricky?” Marsh prompted.

  “Yes,” Ricky whispered, his gaze skittering away.

  “James didn’t say you could borrow his paints,” Caroline said.

  “No,” Ricky whispered again, still not looking at either of them.

  Marsh tried not to laugh because not only had Ricky painted what he thought was roads on the wall with a square-looking truck, but he’d spilled a fair amount of paint on his clothes.

  “Lucky for us your mother got water colors,” Caroline muttered.

  “I’ll get something to clean off the wall,” Marsh said. “You deal with Ricky.”

  It was over an hour later when they set off for Storm in a Teacup since Ricky had managed to get paint over his duvet cover as well.