by Fiona Lowe
Think. Her heart beat so fast it fluttered, and she gave herself a shake, trying to firm up her collapsed world so that Jack didn’t twig that anything was amiss. ‘I’m fine. Caitlyn had me worried for a moment, and I haven’t had breakfast, so that combination made me just a bit wobbly. It’s nothing that a shot of coffee and the sugar high of a croissant and jam won’t fix. I’ll grab something when I collect Imogen. I promised her that the moment the baby was born I’d go and get her.’
Surprise flitted across his face. ‘OK. Grab me something too, please, and I’ll clean up here.’
She nodded and brushed past him, stopping by the ecstatic parents who’d moved up onto the bed and were gazing in wonder at their new daughter. ‘Is it OK if Imogen comes in and has a quick cuddle?’
Diana, now full of the energy of post-labour endorphins, beamed. ‘We’d love it. Our family have to drive up from Adelaide so they won’t be here until this afternoon. Im can be our first visitor.’
Relief poured through her. ‘Thanks, back soon.’ Without looking back at Jack, Sophie escaped into the corridor.
CHAPTER TEN
JACK cuddled Caitlyn while Diana had a shower and Max telephoned his parents. ‘You’re my baby one hundred. How did that happen?’ He couldn’t believe he’d helped to bring that many children into the world. Into Barragong.
We do good work, Jack, be proud of it.
Max snapped his phone shut and strode over, his wide smile filled with gratitude. ‘Thanks, mate. It’s pretty special that our daughter can be born in the town she’s going to call home, and that only happened because of you. Without you, Di would have to have gone to Adelaide.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’ The words he spoke to patients so often as an automatic response now resonated with feeling. ‘I’m glad I was here.’ And he was. The ever-present slightly disgruntled feeling that had dogged him for five years had vanished, leaving him feeling buoyant and happy. Elation flowed through him but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Nothing in Barragong had changed.
Sophie’s the reason.
Diana came out of the bathroom, her face wreathed in a smile.
‘Maybe that’s why Caitie here came early. She was taking her chance, wanting you to deliver her, knowing you’d be on the road on her due date.’
A knock sounded at the door and then Sophie ushered Imogen into the room and directed her to a chair. ‘You sit there and then you can cuddle the baby for a minute. I’ll hold Sheils for you.’
Imogen scrambled onto the chair, and Sophie bobbed down next to her so she could help support the baby.
‘I ready, Jack.’ With shining eyes, Imogen held out her little arms.
Jack grinned and carefully placed the baby across her lap. Sophie ran her arm along the baby’s length as an extra protection.
Imogen stared at the baby and then looked up at Diana. ‘Your baby can be in the ’tivity play.’
Diana smiled. ‘Do you think Caitlyn would like to lie in the manger?’
Imogen nodded seriously. ‘And the wombats will give her presents.’
‘That’s a great idea, Im.’ Jack watched the little girl holding the baby, her dark head bent over next to Sophie’s titian curls.
Sophie helped Imogen support Caitlyn’s head and they laughed together as the baby’s tiny hand escaped from the bunny rug and gripped one of Sophie’s curls. Together, they glanced up at Jack, two pairs of smiling chocolate eyes.
He laughed and smiled back at his girls.
His girls.
Sheer joy exploded inside him, rocking him to his core. His girls. He’d been so busy planning his trip, aching to get out of town, that he’d been totally blind to the two best things that had ever happened to him.
Sophie had stormed into his life, turned it upside down, challenged every one of his misguided beliefs, and he loved her.
I love her.
He held his breath, waiting for the terror to strike, and for the fear that came with being in a relationship and sharing his life with her. But the only thing exploding inside him was happiness and excited anticipation at spending the rest of his life with her. A picture formed in his mind of Imogen holding a baby with red curly hair.
Being a father is a very special thing.
The iron bars that had surrounded him for five years vaporised. He knew without a doubt he belonged in this town and that Imogen belonged with him. The thought of her going to another family was inconceivable and, paperwork and a rubber stamp aside, he knew he’d just become a father.
They were a family. Sophie and Imogen were his family. The thought settled over him in a comforting cloak and for the first time he truly felt he’d really come home to Barragong.
Sophie doesn’t want children.
The thought dragged through him like barbed wire, snagging on skin. He glanced at Sophie who’d just lifted the baby out of Imogen’s arms and was carrying her back to her mother. She held the baby in the crook of her arm, her gaze centred on Caitlyn. Jack had never seen such a look of yearning on Sophie’s face.
He knew right then, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted a child. She wanted exactly what he wanted.
She laid the baby in Diana’s arms and as she straightened up he caught her gaze. Emotions swirled, mixing and separating, but in the whirlpool he saw love.
The bubble of happiness inside him expanded even further. The future rolled out in front of him in such brilliant 3D-clarity that his hand reached out to grab it.
Sophie leaned over the deck, watched the blazing sunset, heard the song of the cicadas and tried to let her spinning mind still. It had been a hell of a weekend and she hadn’t seen anything of Jack or Imogen since an hour after Caitlyn’s birth. Saturday afternoon there’d been an accident involving a road train and a caravan, and she’d worked with the flying doctors to evacuate five people to Adelaide. She’d only just fallen asleep when her phone had woken her and she’d dashed back to the hospital to treat two children with asthma attacks, as well as admitting an elderly patient with chest pain.
Daylight hadn’t brought any relief from the frantic pace, and the tiny emergency department had been flat out with a rush of pre-Christmas-excitement injuries: a child had swallowed a plastic whistle from a bon-bon; a father had badly burned his arm on a barbecue; another had crushed his finger assembling a trampoline. She’d finally arrived home an hour ago just in time to say goodnight to Imogen.
In between cases she’d tried to process her emotions. The fact that she’d fallen in love with Jack had left her shocked, rudderless and drifting, but she’d dug deep and decided that although her love for Jack was appallingly inconvenient for her nothing between them had to change. Jack need never know she loved him, and no way was she going to tell him. The fact he didn’t love her was the only salvageable thing in this whole mess. At least she wouldn’t hurt him like she’d hurt Simon. They could walk away from each other just as they’d planned.
She had ten days left with Jack. Ten days to soak him up and keep her traitorous emotions well under wraps. When he left for his trip, she’d clear out the hospital flat and move in there for the last two months of her contract, leaving the house for Jack’s mother and Imogen to enjoy. By the time Jack returned to town—if he returned to town—she’d be long gone, starting work on another contract. Vanuatu appealed and she’d already emailed the agency.
The sun dipped behind the purple ranges but nothing dented the heat. Her father had emailed her, telling her of icy weather, frozen pipes and the village locked in by snow. The village children were very excited that this year would be a white Christmas, and he was equally thrilled that Minty and Amelia had arrived home to help celebrate. The unspoken message was, ‘it’s been too long; wish you were here’.
Sorry, Dad. Maybe next year.
The thought totally surprised her, because a month ago she would never have even contemplated the idea of going home for Christmas—but then again she’d never contemplated living in a house where the run up to
Christmas was a tradition in itself. She’d survived the tree, the baking, the crafts and the stories Imogen insisted she read. Who knew Australia had their own version of The Twelve Days of Christmas and that white kangaroos pulled the sleigh?
You’ve more than survived it.
She hugged herself tightly and blew out a long breath. She’d not only fallen in love with Jack, she’d rediscovered the joy of Christmas in this house on the other side of the world. When Jack left on his trip, she’d thank him for that.
She heard the click of the French doors, felt Jack’s arms snake around her waist and then felt his mouth nuzzle her neck. Lust tangled up with cosy warmth, the sensation she now recognised as love. She tried to ignore it by tapping into lust but her brain did a double take. He never touches you in the house if Imogen’s home too.
She shut out common sense; she closed her eyes and leaned back into him, absorbing his scent and touch, soaking it in and banking it for the long, lonely nights ahead of her.
He kissed her hair. ‘Im’s fast asleep.’
She yawned. ‘I don’t think I’m too far away from that state.’
‘Is that so?’ His lips and tongue found the sensitive spot behind her ear.
She gasped as her body fired shimmering pleasure into every cell, rolling fatigue away fast. She turned in his arms and met his gaze that was filled with the familiar longing for her, but she glimpsed something unfamiliar and undefined hovering behind it.
‘Still tired?’ He tucked a curl behind her ear. ‘I could tuck you up in bed.’
She traced his jaw with her forefinger. ‘That’s a very generous offer.’
‘I’m a very generous guy.’
She laughed, loving the way he made her feel. ‘You do realise that tucking me in would involve us being in a bedroom together in this house?’
‘I don’t have a problem with that.’
He smiled down at her, his smile devoid of the flirting lust she was so used to seeing. Instead, care and devotion had taken its place and her heart cramped as a hint of panic jetted through her.
She pushed back slightly, trying to give herself space to think. ‘Yes, you do. You have an inflexible rule about sex in this house because of Imogen and the town.’
He arm tugged her back against him. ‘I did have a rule.’
Quicksand warning. Soft-cliff edge. Avalanche area. ‘What’s changed?’
‘Everything.’ He gazed at her, his heart in his eyes. ‘I love you, Sophie, and I want to make love to you in our house.’
Silver spots danced in front of her eyes and all her blood drained to her feet. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening; she wouldn’t let it. She struggled to hold on to rational thought. ‘You don’t love me, Jack. You just love the sex. We both do, and why not? It’s great sex—but it ends next week when you take your trip.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not going.’
Her chest wouldn’t move and she struggled to get her breath. ‘What are you talking about? Of course you’re going. It’s your dream, what you’ve wanted for years.’
He shook his head. ‘It was my dream, but it’s not now. Yesterday everything changed. I love you, Sophie, and I want to marry you.’
Her knees sagged but somehow she launched herself out of his arms and gripped the deck-railing, unable to keep up with the bombshells he was dropping faster than a B52.
‘You don’t want to marry me. You don’t to marry anyone again; you told me that.’
His eyes crinkled around the edges. ‘That was before you stormed into my life, changed all the rules and showed me how things could be so very different.’ A quiet calm encircled him. ‘The trip isn’t important any more, Soph, but we are.’
No, we’re not. A violent tremble started at her toes and rocked through her, shaking her entire body. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to control it. ‘Jack, you have to take this trip. You have to taste the freedom you’ve wanted so badly for so long.’
He came to stand next her, his expression filled with love. ‘These last couple of weeks we’ve been together have been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Out of a sequence of unfortunate events has risen a family.’ He reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘Kylie doesn’t want Imogen and I’ve decided to be her permanent foster-father. I love her, I love you. We’re a family.’
A family. Her stomach rolled and bile scalded her throat. Oh God, no. I’m going to hurt him so much. ‘You want to marry me and adopt Imogen?’
His eyes shone with pleasure. ‘I do.’ His hand covered hers on the rail. ‘I saw how you looked at Caitlyn yesterday, and I’m hoping we can give Im a baby brother or sister or two. Together we can do this, and we’ll make great parents.’
Her breathing shot to short, shallow breaths and the dizziness increased. She dug deeper than she’d ever done in her life and somehow managed to gulp air down into her tight lungs and stop herself from passing out. She met his gaze, hating herself for not being able to give him what he wanted, what he deserved.
‘I didn’t mean for you to fall in love with me, Jack. You’re a good man, but I’d make you miserable, because I don’t want what you want. I haven’t seen the three of us as a family. Hell, I spend every day on egg shells, expecting to do the wrong thing with Imogen. I don’t want a family or to live in one place forever. This house, your family, that sort of history—it’s not me.’
‘It could be.’
His naïve belief pulled at her so strongly she almost walked into his arms. ‘Jack, this is totally crazy.’
He grinned. ‘No, it’s totally right. We belong together.’
I’ll hurt you, and you deserve so much better than that. ‘No, we don’t. You need to take your trip and I need to work for you and then leave town. That’s the plan.’ She heard her voice rising. ‘You’re the man who plans everything, so why the hell aren’t you sticking to this one?’
He stroked her cheek. ‘Because you’ve taught me that my life can be so much more than what it’s been, and the plan no longer fits either of us.’
His calmness terrified her, ramping up her agitation. ‘My plan of leaving still fits perfectly.’
He picked up her hands, his thumbs making gentle circles across the tops of her knuckles. ‘I watched you holding Caitlyn yesterday and the look on your face mirrored mine. I think that mothering Imogen has put the ghosts of your past to bed and now your life plan of not having children needs revising. It’s time to stop running.’
She longed for the scream of rockets and all the other dangers of a war zone because it was so much safer than this. She tugged her hands out from under his as an ache spread through her. ‘I haven’t mothered Imogen.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘You’ve taken her to and from kinder, reminded her to clean her teeth and made her an emu costume.’
‘That’s childcare, not mothering. It comes under the “responsible adult” banner you wave all the time.’
Incredulity rolled across his handsome face. ‘It’s been so much more than that. You’ve cuddled up with her in bed, read her stories and splashed and laughed with her in the pool. I’ve watched you unwind around her, seen you enjoy her—and the other night when she refused to eat dinner you were the one that kept your cool, not me.’ His hand rested gently on her shoulder. ‘Let the past go, Soph, and trust yourself that you can do this. You’re not a teenager any more, you’re a mature woman, and it’s time you accepted you’re a good mother.’
His words rained down on her, terrifying her. She didn’t dare believe him, didn’t dare consider staying, because if he was wrong—and she was sure he was—she’d hurt both Imogen and Jack even more than if she left now. ‘I don’t want this, Jack. I want my freedom.’
‘Freedom?’ He snorted. ‘You don’t have freedom, Sophie, you’re too busy running to be free. What are you going to do—spend your life going from war zone to war zone until you fall in a heap? You deserve better than that. You aren’t living your life, you’re
running from it, and it’s time to stop. This so-called freedom you believe in is just fear.’
Everything inside her stilled. Like the knife that had pared into her palm and sliced down to her tendon, he’d just sliced through every protective layer she’d ever wrapped around herself and exposed the truth. The truth that held all her worst fears. Fear that she would hurt who she loved—hurt an innocent child. Fear she couldn’t be the woman Jack wanted as the mother of his children.
Pain lacerated her and she knew she had to do the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life—make him not want her to stay at all.
‘I’m not one of your projects, Jack, and I don’t need saving.’
Jack heard a brittle hardness in Sophie’s voice he’d never encountered. It ate at the edges of his belief that he was right, and that with some encouragement she would realise that being with him and Imogen was what she wanted most in the world. ‘I think you need Im and I in your life.’
She tossed her head, her eyes flashing. ‘You think wrong. This is your problem, Jack. It’s your over-developed sense of duty getting in the way of what you really want. Yes, Imogen needs a family, but it’s not your job to marry me and provide it. Think about it, Jack—if you marry me and adopt Imogen, it’s a repeat scenario of what made you so unhappy when your father died. You came back here earlier than you wanted to and married Mary because you thought the doctor in town should be settled. It’s made you resentful, and you need to take your trip, because if you don’t you’ll end up resenting Imogen.’
‘You’re right about my marriage but you’re way off the mark with Imogen.’ A slow, burning anger curled through his belly like a snake as incredulity rocked him. She didn’t get it; she had no clue. ‘I can’t believe you’re suggesting I leave Imogen for three months.’
Her arms folded tightly across her chest. ‘I’m trying to get you to see sense.’
He threw his arm out towards the house. ‘There’s a little girl in there who’s been abandoned by her mother and she needs all the stability I can give her.’
