Convenient Brides (34 page)

He looked faintly amused. ‘Do I resemble a bear with a sore head?’

‘Uh—disgruntled, disillusioned, disenchanted and—’

‘Disgustingly weak,’ he supplied.

She sipped her tea. ‘But better at all?’

He sat up and reached for his cake. ‘Thanks to your tender loving care, Ellie, yes, I’m starting to feel human again.’

‘Good. By the way, it is only the flu, the tests came back this afternoon. And, on your behalf, I threatened the airline that I would ring them hourly on the hour until the matter was resolved.’

One dark eyebrow shot up. ‘What did they say to that?’

‘I think they were tempted to offer me a free flight out of the country!’

He laughed.

‘Anyway, they’re a lot less inclined to fob me off with, “We have this matter in hand, Mrs Spencer”—I—uh—told them I was your wife.’

He raised his eyebrows but said, ‘You’re a gem, Ellie. How’s Simon? I haven’t heard much of him lately.’

‘He’s being very quiet so as not to disturb you. I thought it was wise to keep him away for a while anyway.’

‘I guess so. But he seems to have got over all his childhood ailments.’

‘Touch wood, he has.’

Brett drank his tea, then lay back with one arm behind his head and looked at her thoughtfully. She hadn’t changed out of her trim uniform, a white blouse with navy trim and a short straight navy skirt. She wore stockings, navy shoes with little heels and her medical badge was pinned to her collar. She looked capable but chic.

‘Is that where you acquired your nursing skills? From nursing Simon?’

She smiled. ‘What skills? All I’ve done is make your bed and keep you supplied with clean pyjamas.’

‘You’ve done a lot more than that. You’ve fed me, provided a peaceful environment, medicated me with…tisanes and hot lemon drinks and all the while you’ve been peaceful and restful about it.’

She thought for a bit. ‘I suppose if I did pick up anything from Simon’s early years it was that to be peaceful and restful helped.’

He moved. ‘I should be up and about tomorrow.’

‘I know this is a bit presumptuous since you’re the doctor, Brett, but my advice is to take it easy.’

‘I’m bored,’ he said flatly.

‘Well, that’s a good sign, but all the same—if you feel like reading now, how about I bring you some books or—?’

‘And lonely.’

Their gazes clashed. ‘Ah. OK,’ she said, thinking quickly. ‘I’m working on a kite so once I’ve got dinner out of the way—Simon is spending the night with a friend—if you really feel like getting up for a bit, you could help or just sit and talk to me.’

‘My pleasure, ma’am. What’s for dinner?’

‘Now that is a good sign,’ she told him laughingly.

When she’d gone to deal with dinner, Brett found
himself contemplating several matters. Such as the fact that this might be his home, but nevertheless it now seemed very much Ellie’s home. Her personality was imprinted on it, it ran smoothly thanks to her organisation and both house and garden seemed to have a bloom to them although she’d changed almost nothing.

The ‘bloom’ of a much-loved home? he wondered. If so, what did that say about Ellie the person, Ellie the woman, Ellie—who had been so wary of his plans for her life but had never moved on?

Dinner was simple, but it was artistically presented and delicious. Grilled Atlantic salmon, a potato focaccia and a rocket salad with black olives and shredded Spanish onions.

Afterwards he sat with her for a while in the enclosed back veranda where she had her design desk and all her kite-making equipment and discovered there was more to kite-making than he’d realized. And it came to him when she told him how much her kites sold for and how many repeat customers she had that the nest egg he’d treated so lightly might be much more substantial than he’d guessed.

He watched her as she expertly measured, sawed and bevelled dowling. She’d changed into her yellow cotton dress but wore a butcher’s apron over it and had tied her hair back exposing an unexpectedly slender neck with damp curls clinging to it—it was a warm, humid night—and he asked her how she’d come to be such an expert.

She looked up with the little gold flecks in her eyes most noticeable. Then a shadow crossed those rather remarkable eyes. ‘My father taught me. We used to fly our kites together.’

‘Happy memories, Ellie?’

‘I think I told you that my mother died when I was ten? Well, my stepmother and I…just didn’t hit it off. It was only after Simon was born that I realized why she was so jealous even of little things like Dad and I making and flying kites. She couldn’t have children of her own. The ultimate tie to him she craved, I guess.’

For a moment Ellie sat quite still staring down the years then she shrugged and her nimble fingers resumed work.

And Brett thought, So that explains it. That lack of confidence in Ellie Madigan, that tantalizing vulnerability about her he remembered rather suddenly…

‘Tell me about your job?’ he suggested, and was grat-ified to see her brighten.

In fact she became animated as she told him how she seemed to be having quite a bit of success with children who stuttered and they discussed it medically for a while.

Then he said, ‘You obviously have a way with kids as well, Ellie.’

She glanced at him through her lashes. ‘I would say you have too, Brett.’

He shrugged. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘Oh, the way Simon took to you virtually on sight. Considering the fact that he thought you were the new man in my life—’ she grimaced ‘—that was quite a feat.’

He looked at her humorously. ‘I’ve always found it especially either heart-wrenching or gratifying to work with children. So we have that in common,’ he added almost to himself.

Ellie glinted him a questioning look.

He said nothing, however, and presently took himself to bed after thanking her for a nice evening. It shouldn’t
have surprised him but it did touch him to find that his bed had been remade and there was a flask of juice beside it.

Ellie made herself a cup of tea one evening and wan-dered out onto the terrace. Brett had been home for a week and was recovered from the worst of his virus so she was beginning to wonder what lay ahead.

But it had been a busy week and she laid her head back and could only think that October was a pretty month in Brisbane. The jacaranda at the bottom of the garden was in full bloom, the African tulip tree beside the drive was dropping its waxy scarlet blooms and the hibiscus hedge beside the pool was in full flower. Not that she could see the wonderful colours but the white, mauve and violet blooms of the several ‘yesterday, today and tomorrow’ bushes she’d planted beside the terrace were perfuming the night air.

Brett was on the phone once again exhorting the airline to track down his overnight bag.

She sat down in a basket chair, pushed off her shoes and studied the pool, a crystal blue with its underwater lighting. Presently, something alerted her to his presence. ‘Pull up a chair,’ she invited without turning her head. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘No, thanks.’ He sat down and clasped his hands between his knees.

Ellie tucked her feet up. ‘Any luck?’

‘No. The passenger in question is still not at home at the address they have listed. Thanks to you they’re sending someone out on a daily basis, though.’

‘Damn—I suppose there’s not a lot more they can do.’

‘No.’ He studied his hands for a moment with an expression she couldn’t identify, then he shrugged and
looked directly into her eyes. ‘So what do you think, Ellie?’

Ellie didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘About you and I—and the future? I don’t know what you’re proposing,’ she said slowly.

‘Maintaining the status quo for the time being.’

‘Brett, that’s fairly complicated—’

‘I don’t see why it should be.’

She glinted him an ironic little look. ‘I have the strong feeling that my difficulties in getting Simon to relate to any men in my life will only increase once he has
you
in his life.’ She gestured. ‘On a full-time basis.’

He sat back and crossed his hands behind his head. ‘That could have been a simple matter of the wrong choices, Ellie.’

She finished her tea and put her cup back carefully in the saucer. ‘OK, my choices may not have been that inspired—’

‘Have you ever fallen in love again—as opposed to wanting to enhance your son’s life?’

She was silent.

‘I guess it happened for you with Tom so you must have an idea of how it feels.’

She swallowed something in her throat. ‘No, not like that. I don’t think it can ever happen quite like that for me again.’

‘Or it may—’ he smiled at her ‘—suddenly spring up out of the sidewalk and hit you on the head.’

I wish you wouldn’t smile at me like that, she thought crazily.

‘Brett, there’s one thing I don’t understand—what’s in it for you?’ She saw him arrange his thoughts. He was sitting in a shaft of lamplight spilling out on to the ter-race from the lounge.

He looked around. ‘I’m at a bit of a loose end, to be honest.’

‘You…regret coming back?’

He shrugged—with a trace of unease, she thought. ‘No, but the transition from that kind of life to this—well, it’s going to take some adjusting. So, what’s in it for me at the moment? I feel at home here with you and Simon.’

Ellie felt a pleasant little glow and enjoyed the thought that she might be able to pay Brett back in this way. But presently she frowned. ‘Brett, you’ve been a bit scathing about my love life, or lack of it,’ she said dryly, ‘but what about you? Before you took off for places like the Congo, you weren’t exactly a loner.’

‘Perhaps not,’ he conceded, ‘but marriage and what I’ve wanted to do with my life so far just haven’t been compatible.’

‘That would be true,’ she agreed wryly. ‘Although it doesn’t rule out someone in the same line of work.’

He laid his head back. ‘Perhaps we’re both loners in a certain sense, Ellie. Me because of my work and you because of losing Tom.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean—?’ She stopped as she heard footsteps coming up the drive and someone calling her name softly.

Brett lifted his head and frowned. ‘Who…?’

‘Dan Dawson,’ she said. ‘You remember the people who live next door? Dan is their son. He works on an oil rig and spends some of his time off with them. Hi, Dan!’ She waved to the big young man crossing the lawn towards them. ‘Do you remember Brett Spencer? He’s come home.’

As it turned out, they remembered each other and, after shaking hands, Dan sat down with them. He was
twenty-six and over the years he and Ellie had become friends. When he was home, he quite often called on her. He also appeared pleased to meet up with Brett again and brought him up to date on his career. At present he was stationed on an oil rig in the Timor Sea.

But when he got up to go, things took an unexpected turn. He said goodnight to Ellie but asked Brett if he could have a moment of his time. Brett looked surprised but suggested they step into the kitchen.

Ellie watched them go with a frown, then succumbed to her curiosity and crept round the terrace to a vantage point outside the kitchen window.

She arrived in time to hear Dan Dawson say to Brett Spencer, ‘I’ve been keeping an eye on Ellie—when I’m home.’

‘That’s good of you, Dan,’ Brett replied.

‘As a matter of fact,’ Dan continued, looking both embarrassed but determined, ‘although I haven’t told Ellie this yet, she’s the one who keeps me sane sometimes. Oil rigs can be bloody boring, but I’ve got a picture of her next to my bunk. Just thought,’ he said as Ellie’s mouth dropped open, ‘I’d let you know, old man. Because my contract is due to expire shortly and I’m thinking of coming back to Brissie full time and proposing to her. It’s what she needs now Simon is growing up.’

Ellie shut her mouth with a click and scuttled back to her chair, missing Brett’s response, but a moment later both men emerged and Dan walked away down the drive with a wave.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Ellie said as soon as he was out of earshot.

Brett grimaced. ‘I wondered if you’d be tempted to eavesdrop. Well? Why not? He’s nice enough.’

‘Brett, when I first moved in here Dan was still at school!’

‘You weren’t that long out of it yourself. He’s only four years younger, he doesn’t appear to have alienated Simon—’

‘But he’s never said a word to me, I had no idea! Oh,’ she groaned, ‘how do I get myself into these things?’

‘At least this is a genuine guy who would appear to have fallen in love with you.’

‘There is one disadvantage—I haven’t fallen in love with him,’ she pointed out. ‘That is the accepted reason to marry someone, isn’t it? A mutual falling in love?’

‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘But Dan is right about one thing. Simon is growing up and you need help. You must be aware of this yourself or why else would you be experimenting with—?’

‘Don’t say it,’ she warned.

He grinned.

‘What did you say to Dan?’ She eyed him frowningly.

He considered. ‘I told him I had the same aspirations and may the best man win.’

Ellie closed her eyes. ‘I don’t think I heard you right.’

Brett studied her as her eyes remained closed, with a mixture of amusement and something else. Something that caused him to wonder if this woman hadn’t lain on the back roads of his mind for a long time in a way he’d failed to identify…Why else would he be issuing chal-lenges to the likes of Dan Dawson? Why else had he come home to stay? Why had
she
stayed in his home for so long? A question he’d asked himself before.

Then her lashes shot up and her eyes were accusing. ‘This is a game for you, Brett! I don’t appreciate it!’

He debated with himself for a moment. Was this the
right time to tell her how his thoughts were running? Or was Tom still firmly entrenched in her heart?

‘Uh,’ he said as her gaze didn’t waver, even got fiercer, ‘there’s a certain territorial aspect involved, I guess. It may have led me to responding in kind. Don’t say it,’ he added softly as her expression changed. ‘Men!’

After a frozen moment an involuntary smile curved her lips. ‘How right you are,’ she agreed, but unheatedly. ‘Getting back to you, though,’ she said slowly, ‘in five years or whenever this bit of research is over, will you go off again?’