Christmas at Candlebark Farm (4 page)

She stared at them and willed her heart to stop its unaccountable softening.

‘Thank you. For everything,' she added, but doubted he heard. He'd already disappeared.

 

Keira pulled up short the next morning when she found Luke seated at the kitchen table, reading the Sunday paper. She'd expected him to be long gone out into those fields of his. It was one of the reasons she'd allowed herself the luxury of a lie-in—knowing she wouldn't be disturbing anyone. Given the kind of night she'd had, it had seemed a perfectly reasonable proposition. But if Luke had delayed his work to make sure she was okay…

‘Good morning.' She tried to keep her voice casual, not sure exactly what tone she should be aiming for after last night.

Luke immediately set the paper aside, leapt to his feet and slotted two slices of her nine-grain bread into the toaster before turning back, hands on hips, to examine her. ‘Well?' he demanded. ‘How are you feeling?'

She couldn't resist teasing him. ‘If I'm going to get waited on like this, then I'm at death's door.'

He frowned.

‘Relax, Luke. I'm fine. I slept like a log when I went back to bed—' which wasn't exactly the truth ‘—and I wasn't sick again.'

That, though, was. Thankfully. And she didn't want him feeling responsible for her. She was more than capable of looking after herself and the Munchkin, thank you.

She
really
didn't want her heart lurching at the mere sight of the man either. There was no future in that.

She sat. ‘I mean it, Luke. You need to relax,' she repeated when he retrieved her toast and set it in front of her. He returned from the pantry with his arms laden with spreads.

She opened her mouth to protest some more, but suddenly she was ravenously hungry and allowed herself to be sidetracked long enough to slather butter and strawberry jam over one slice of toast. ‘Oh, this is divine,' she groaned, devouring it and repeating the process with the second slice. When she was finished she leant back in her chair with a sigh. ‘How on earth is it possible to feel so sick just a few short hours ago and now be so hungry?'

‘It's normal.'

That was when she remembered what she had to tell him. She had to set him straight. ‘Luke, I'm not some pathetic piece who's accidentally found herself pregnant and then been dumped by some low-down, lying snake in the grass.' She could see that was what he thought.

‘It's none of my business.' He shot to his feet. ‘Would you like more toast?'

No, she didn't want more toast. She didn't want him making her feel all warm and fuzzy inside either.

‘For the last twelve months I've been on an IVF programme.' She waited to see if her words made any impression on him.

He bent down to survey the contents of the fridge. ‘What about a piece of fruit or a yoghurt?'

‘Did you hear what I just said? I've fallen pregnant deliberately.
And
I've chosen to do it on my own.'

He stopped fussing at the fridge to turn and stare. ‘What on earth would you go and do something like that for?'

Now that she had his attention—and, oh my, she certainly had that—she wasn't sure she wanted it. ‘You…um…
might like to close the fridge door. It's shaping up to be a warm day.'

‘You… But… You're too young!'

She blinked. And then she grinned. ‘How old do you think I am? I'm twenty-four—old enough to know my own mind.'

Luke sat, scratched both hands back through his hair while he stared at her. ‘But you're still so young. You're attractive…'

Her heart did that stupid leaping around thing again.

‘Do you have something against men?'

‘No!' She stared at him in horror, but she could suddenly see how he'd come to that conclusion. ‘I had an infected ovary removed when I was nineteen. In the last couple of years my remaining ovary has started to develop cysts, and it looks like it will have to go as well. And soon.'

‘So medically…?'

‘If I want a baby, I have to look at doing it now.'

He sat back, let out a low whistle.

‘I mean, in an ideal world I'd have found the man of my dreams and we'd…' She trailed off. She wasn't anti-men, not by any stretch, but she wasn't sure she believed in the man of her dreams either.

‘That's a heck of a decision to be faced with—and to do it on your own.' Luke leaned towards her, his hand clenched and his eyebrows drawing down low over his eyes. ‘Being a single parent—you have no idea how hard it is. You could've found a man who'd have been happy to help you out.' He shook his head. ‘It would've spared you the expense of IVF, and going through your pregnancy alone.'

‘And given me a whole new set of problems,' she pointed out. But her heart burned for him. He and his wife might have already been separated, but her death had obviously wounded him. He'd certainly never expected to become a single father. That much was evident.

She'd known Luke Hillier for less than twenty-four hours,
but last night he'd held her hair back from her face while she'd vomited. She figured that gave her a certain insight into the man. She leant across the table towards him. She wanted to reach across and touch his hand—perhaps because his eyes were so dark and his mouth so grim? Perhaps because she sensed that behind the grimness lay genuine concern? ‘Would you ever marry a woman just because you wanted a baby?'

‘No!'

Tension shot through his shoulders. The physiotherapist in her itched to un-knot all that tightness. The thought made the woman in her turn to putty. Oh,
puhlease
—pregnancy hormones were addling her brain!

‘I…' She swallowed, edged back in her seat. ‘I couldn't use someone like that either. In the end I had to make a decision I could live with.'

He gazed at her for a long moment and finally gave a curt nod. She could have sworn she saw admiration flash in those dark eyes of his, and it warmed her all the way down to her toes. She couldn't help smiling at him, and just like that an arc of electricity vibrated between them. Keira's heart, pulse, spirits—all started to race.

She dragged her gaze away and forced herself to stare at the strawberry jam. This…this heat that seemed to spring up between them—she had to ignore it. In one week she'd be leaving here, and she and Luke would never clap eyes on each other again. She was here to secure her and the Munchkin's future. She had no intention of getting sidetracked by a sculpted chest and a pair of dark, smouldering eyes. She had no intention of getting used to someone looking out for her. She was an independent woman of the new millennium. She didn't need any of that nonsense.

She lifted her chin. ‘I know common wisdom has it that raising a child on one's own is harder, but I'm not a hundred percent convinced of that.'

He raised an eyebrow. How on earth one eyebrow could contain such a depth of scepticism she would never know. Doubts crowded around her, but she pushed them back. She came from a long line of strong women. She was more than capable of providing a good home and a good life for her baby.

‘Tell me that after months of broken sleep, colic, and a bad case of the baby blues,' he drawled.

‘My father deserted my mother when she was pregnant with me. She raised me on her own. I don't doubt things were hard for her at times, but she was strong and resourceful and full of life.' Keira refused to let her chin drop. She would not let the picture his words had created spook her. ‘I had a wonderful childhood, and I certainly never felt anything was lacking from my life.' And her Munchkin wouldn't either!

‘I didn't mean—'

‘In fact—' she spoke over the top of him ‘—I'd say my childhood was better than a lot of my friends who had both parents.' Especially if those parents were either divorced or constantly arguing.

Her two best friends had been cases in point, their loyalties torn between their parents. Keira had always considered herself lucky in comparison. She and her mother—they'd been incredibly close. When her mother had died, her grandmother—another strong female role model—had stepped into the breach, helping Keira through the worst of her grief. Keira was determined to follow in their footsteps, to uphold their examples.

Her mother had always claimed it was foolhardy for a woman to pin all her hopes on a man, that first and foremost a woman should rely on herself. Keira believed that with all her heart. She knew her mother would have applauded her decision to pursue IVF and have a baby on her own. The knowledge that she'd have made her mother proud kept her going when doubts plagued her.

And she wasn't going to let some man who seemed to spend less than ten minutes a day in his own son's company make her doubt herself either!

Tell me that after months of broken sleep.

Her mouth went dry. ‘I will love my baby, and I don't need virtual strangers telling me I'm not up to the task!'

She loved her baby already. Her hand curved around her stomach. It wouldn't be flat for too much longer. Soon there would be ample evidence of the baby growing inside her, and she couldn't wait. ‘I want this baby with every fibre of my being.' She couldn't wait to hold it in her arms, to count all its fingers and toes, to touch the down on its head. ‘That's what will get me through the colic and the sleepless nights and the hormone swings and…and everything!'

She glared at Luke, but couldn't prevent her heart from sinking just a tiny bit when she watched the bond that had started to form between them dissolve utterly.

He stood, his face shuttered and his eyes more black than brown. ‘Looks like you have everything under control, then.'

She folded her arms. ‘I do.'

She did!

‘Good. I don't have time to…waste.' He seized his hat and jammed it on his head. ‘There's work to be done.' With that, he strode out through the back door.

Keira stared after him. ‘Well, why didn't you just say you don't have time to mollycoddle pregnant women?' she muttered. It was obvious that was what he'd meant. Well, she didn't need mollycoddling. She hadn't asked him to mollycoddle.

Still, she couldn't help feeling she'd just thrown his kindness back in his face with a considerable lack of grace. And now she had a whole day to kill, with nothing to do.

She cleared away the breakfast things and then spied the shopping list she'd made earlier. Much earlier. Right. She shoved it in her pocket. The supermarket in Gunnedah would
be open, and she'd do just about anything to avoid a repeat of last night's bout of illness—even if that meant drinking something as odd as liquorice tea.

 

Keira's natural buoyancy reasserted itself as she negotiated her way down Gunnedah's main street. How could it not? The town overflowed with a festive spirit that was nowhere to be seen at Candlebark.

Christmas carols spilled out from the shops and onto the street. Fake snow and tinsel festooned every shop window. Santa displays abounded—Santa in a sleigh, Santa in his workshop with his elves—so did angels and stars. She stopped by a shop window containing a nativity scene, stared at the baby Jesus in the manger. Her hand crept across her stomach. ‘Oh, Munchkin, you just wait till next Christmas. We're going to have so much fun!'

This time of year always reminded Keira of her mother. Carmel Keely had adored Christmas—adorning every room of their apartment with Christmas decorations, baking for weeks beforehand, always grumbling that their ginormous tree was far too big for their apartment, which it was, but never replacing it. And every year she, her mother and her grandmother had sat down to a full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. It had always been a special day. Her mother had made sure of that. And this year Keira knew she'd miss her mother and her grandmother just that little bit more than normal.

She wondered what Luke and Jason did for Christmas. Then frowned. It was kind of hard, imagining Luke being festive.

She chewed her bottom lip, drawing to a halt as she recalled the expression on his face when he'd told her that his wife was dead. Her heart burned. Poor Jason. She knew from experience how hard this time of year could be. Luke had to try and make Christmas special for his son all on his own now.

Just like you'll be doing.

Yeah, but she'd chosen that path. Luke hadn't.

With a heart that had started to feel heavier with every passing second, she recalled how she'd all but told Luke to butt out and keep his opinions to himself this morning. After he'd held her hair back and had mopped her face…and made her lemon and hot water…and given her morning sickness remedies. He was obviously busy with the farm, but he'd taken a significant portion of the morning off to make sure she was okay…
and to make her breakfast
!

She was a shrew. It wasn't his fault her insecurities had momentarily got the better of her.

She bit her lip and glanced around, as if this country street could provide her with inspiration for how to make amends.

Her eyes lit on the Chinese restaurant across the road. She sucked her bottom lip all the way into her mouth. She could cook dinner tonight, couldn't she? That would at least save Luke some of that precious time of his.

Her spirits started to lift again. Maybe this evening Luke and Jason could eat together. Last night they'd simply seized their plates and shot off to separate parts of the house—Luke to what she guessed was his study, and Jason to watch television in the living room. She'd watched in stunned amazement and sworn that she and her child would never end up like that. But if Luke had more time…

 

The chicken and hokkien noodle stir-fry she'd prepared was ready to serve at precisely the same moment Luke walked through the back door. Keira took it as a good sign—all the planets magically aligned, or something.