The Baby Swap Miracle (12 page)

He hesitated, horribly tempted because it was a mess and all his spare time at the moment was channelled into the house. In the face of that, the garden was way down the list of his priorities, and in any case he had no idea where to start with restoring it. But apparently Emelia did, and she was looking at him expectantly, her eyes bright, enthusiasm shining from her eyes, and he almost buckled. Almost.

He sighed. She was tiny, a good head shorter than him and fine-boned and—dammit, thoroughly pregnant, even if it wasn’t a
condition
!

‘It would be too hard for you,’ he said flatly, but she shook her head.

‘No. It would be a labour of love. I could do it, Sam—I could rescue it,’ she told him earnestly, feeling the surge of enthusiasm, the prickle of excitement at the prospect. ‘I’d love to do it. At least let me try. Please?’

‘What if I get someone to help you?’ he offered, before he knew what he was going to say. ‘There’s a lad in the village—he cleared the kitchen garden for me. Want me to give him a ring? It’s either that or I get in someone much more expensive, and they’ll have their own ideas, of course,’ he added, taunting her deliberately when she still hesitated.

She chewed her lip, and he felt a twinge of guilt, but he wasn’t going to let her hurt herself, and at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to deny her the pleasure it was obviously bringing her. Never mind denying himself the pleasure of watching her…

‘It might be helpful,’ she conceded. ‘Just to do the heavy stuff—’

‘I’ll call him,’ he said, grabbing the advantage while he had it, and changed the subject. ‘How’s the cottage?’

She smiled again, her eyes—such expressive, beautiful eyes, he thought distractedly—softening. ‘Lovely, thank you. And thank you for the food. You even thought of chocolates.’

‘I’m learning.’

Her mouth twitched, and he felt his joining in. He shook his head and let himself smile. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’

‘Actually, that would be lovely.’

‘I’ll go and make it. Why don’t you pack up for today and come and find me in the kitchen? Daisy’s missed you.’ It was a lie. He didn’t even know where Daisy was, until she emerged from the undergrowth wagging her tail and smiling at him, and Emelia bit her lip and looked guilty.

‘I don’t think so. She’s been with me most of the day. Sorry. I should have told you.’

He shook his head at the dog. ‘You faithless hound,’ he said softly, and scratched her ears. ‘So—tea in ten minutes?’

‘Tea in ten minutes would be lovely,’ she agreed, and smiled again.

She’d caught the sun, and there was a streak of dirt across her brow and down one cheek, and she looked happier than he’d ever seen her. Happy and beautiful, and he had to drag himself away.

So she was beautiful. So what? There was no way he
could let himself act on this. Not with the baby complicating it so much. It would be a complete and utter emotional minefield, and he was never going there again.

CHAPTER SIX

E
MELIA
slept like a log.

She woke up the following morning for the first time in her little cottage, blissfully comfortable—until she tried to move. She was so stiff she could hardly get out of bed, and she vowed to take it a bit easier in the garden in future.

But he’d agreed to her suggestion! She was delighted by that, not only so she wouldn’t be beholden, but also because she was excited by the challenge, and she got up and made herself tea and sat at the table in the window overlooking the rolling parkland and fields in the distance, and planned how she was going to tackle the garden.

Only a rough idea. She’d need more time to work it out properly. Then she showered—a power shower that drenched her and eased some of the aches, and she realised she felt better than she had in ages. Since before James had died, in fact.

The last three years had been hard—desperately hard, in so many ways—but they were over, and her life was entering a new phase. And for the first time since she’d been given the shocking and life-changing news that she was having Sam’s baby, she was looking forward to the future with real enthusiasm.

She decided not to overdo it, though, that morning, and so after she’d dressed and had breakfast, she went and
enrolled with a doctor and a midwife, and got her next scan booked at the local hospital, then changed, ate one of the bananas Sam had bought for her and tackled the garden gently.

And Sam appeared, just after she’d just started work, and brought her a cup of tea.

‘How’s it going?’ he asked.

She brushed off her hands and smiled. ‘OK. I’ve only just started. I’m sorry I wasn’t here first thing but I had other things to do, and I’m going to have to skive on Monday, too, I’m afraid. I’ve got my twenty-week scan.’

His eyes tracked down and hesitated, then he lifted his head and searched her face. ‘I don’t suppose—’

‘Would you like—?’ she asked, speaking at the same time, and he gave a quiet laugh.

‘Please—if you won’t find it intrusive?’

Intrusive? The father of her child being present? Odd word, but somehow appropriate under the circumstances. She thought about it for a second, then shook her head.

‘No, I won’t find it intrusive, Sam,’ she said gently. ‘You’re more than welcome to come. In fact, you can help me. It’s at the local hospital and I have no idea where to go.’

‘I’ll take you. Just tell me when. And I don’t expect you to be here nine to five, Emelia,’ he added, a slight frown pleating his brow. ‘Do as much or as little as you want. I’m just grateful for your input because this has been niggling at me for years.’

‘OK.’ She eyed his hands and smiled. ‘So—is that for us, or are you just taunting me with the biscuits?’

He chuckled and sat down on the arbour seat, put the tea and biscuits down, and then vanished through the French doors into the sitting room, returning seconds later with a cushion.

‘Here,’ he said, shoving it behind her with a little frown, and she leant back on it and smiled.

‘Thanks. You’re a star,’ she murmured. ‘It seems ages since anyone spoilt me.’

‘James?’ he asked, wondering if she’d tell him to butt out, but she nodded, and she didn’t look put out, so he went further. ‘Tell me about him,’ he suggested quietly, and then waited.

She smiled—that told him a lot, for a start. ‘He was crazy. Clever, interesting, but he had some wacky ideas. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but living with him was never boring. He always wanted to travel, to work his way round the world. We were going to save some money and go.’ Her smile faded. ‘We never got there. He found the lump the day after he brought the brochures home, and he was in hospital a fortnight later having surgery. We didn’t get another chance.’

‘You must miss him.’

She smiled again, a gentle smile that really got to him. ‘I do,’ she said honestly. ‘He was my best friend. We had so much fun together, and we had so many plans—not just for travelling. He wanted to live in Clifton one day, he said, in one of the tall town houses overlooking the suspension bridge, and fill it with children. We argued about that.’

Sam frowned. ‘The children?’

‘Oh, no, the town house. We both wanted children,’ she said, and then gave a wry little laugh. ‘Ironically, I wanted to live in the country and teach in the local primary school.’

‘You could do that here, maybe, one day,’ he suggested quietly, and he watched what could have been hope, and then caution, flicker through her oh-so-expressive eyes.

‘If I’m still here.’

He didn’t like that. The idea of her leaving seemed
wrong, somehow, and he thought they’d got past that, but maybe not. He could ask her to marry him, of course—except it wasn’t that easy. She still missed James—and he wasn’t sure he’d want to marry her anyway. He didn’t. Of course he didn’t—but anyway it was out of the question. They’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons, and that was a thoroughly lousy idea. And anyway, she’d probably say no.

He drained his tea and stood up. ‘I have to go—I’ve got a call coming in. Have you had lunch?’

‘I don’t need lunch,’ she said, standing up too and handing him the mug. ‘I had a banana earlier and I’ve just had three biscuits. I’ll carry on for a while, then I’ll stop. Don’t worry about me.’

Easy to say, not so easy to do. Especially when he could see her from his desk struggling with a recalcitrant rose bush. She pricked herself and sucked her finger, and he had to shut his eyes and fight off the mental images.

It was yet another phone call he scarcely got the gist of.

She slept well again that night, and she found after a couple of days that she was used to her little cottage. Not only used to it, but loved it. She didn’t even close the curtains now. Who was to see? She was woken every morning by the sun on her face, and as she went to bed at night, the last rays of the sun would streak through the other window and paint the room in pinks and golds.

It was, as Emily had said, a beautiful place to be, and she’d settled in surprisingly well, even though it was a little lonely. She could cope with that, though. After the claustrophic atmosphere with Brian and especially Julia, to be alone was precious, and goodness knows she saw enough of Sam in the day, fussing over her like a mother hen.

He was picking her up on Monday morning to take her to the hospital for her scan, and she found herself studying the contents of her wardrobe. Silly. She needed trousers and a top that would pull out of the way. Not pretty, impractical clothes that in any case she didn’t own!

She sat on the bed with a short, defeated sigh. She really, really needed an income. Doing the garden for Sam was all very well, but she had to buy clothes, and it wasn’t a case of want, it was a case of need. Her bump was growing rapidly, her bras didn’t fit properly and she simply had to address it.

But how? There was no way she was asking Sam for help, he’d done more than enough.

Shaking her head, she stood up, pulled out the only pair of decent trousers that still went round her and a top that still more or less fitted, and put them on. She’d have to ask Sam to take her to a shop on the way home. Somewhere cheap.

There was a knock at her door, and she tugged the top straight and went to open it. Sam was standing with his back to the door, studying the area outside the cottage, and he turned to her with a smile.

‘Morning. All set?’

‘Just about. Let me find my shoes and grab my bag and I’ll be with you.’

She was back in seconds, and he waved his arm at the bit of wall beside the front door.

‘You could do with a bench here, couldn’t you?’ he said. ‘Somewhere to sit and have a cup of tea in the sun first thing in the morning. And a table and chairs for the garden, so you can eat outside if you want. I meant to get them, but I just haven’t got round to it.’

‘Are you sure? It would be really nice,’ she said, imag
ining that early-morning cup of tea in the company of the squirrels.

‘Of course I’m sure,’ he said easily, opening the door of the BMW for her. ‘OK with the hood down?’

‘Fine. It’s a perfect day for it,’ she said, scraping her hair back and twisting a band round it to hold it as they set off, then went on, ‘On the subject of furniture, you could do with something in the rose garden, as well. On that bit of flagstone paving outside the French doors. It’s crying out for a nice table and chairs.’

He nodded slowly. ‘It is. I’ve thought that in the past but there didn’t seem to be any point until now. I could sit there and have breakfast and read the papers over a coffee.’

‘Is that your decaf coffee?’ she teased and he shot her a wry grin.

‘That’d be the one. So shall we do that after your scan? And we can have lunch out somewhere. There’s a pub by the river that does the best scampi and chips.’

‘Sam, I’ll be like a house!’ she protested, and then bit her lip as she remembered she’d been going to ask about clothes shopping.

‘What?’ he said, tipping his head on one side and studying her briefly as they paused at the gate. ‘I
am
like a house,’ she said frankly. ‘I need clothes. I’m—sort of growing.’

His eyes dropped to her bump, and she felt her cheeks warm at his thoughtful stare. ‘I suppose it goes with the territory,’ he said with a slight smile. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen a mother and baby place close to a garden centre that sells really nice outdoor furniture. We can do it all at once.’

He pulled away, problem apparently solved to his satisfaction, and she rested her head back and closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face and the wind
ruffling gently around her as they meandered slowly along the lanes. Magical. Perfect.

For a while he said nothing, then he broke the silence.

‘About the scan,’ he said, and she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

‘What about it?’

‘Will they be able to tell the sex of the baby?’

It was something she’d been pondering on—not whether or not they could tell, because she knew they could, but if she wanted to know. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They should be able to.’

‘So—do you want to know?’

She nibbled her lip thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure. On the one hand it makes it easier to buy things, but it doesn’t really matter unless you’re going to indulge in a mega-fest of pink or blue, but maybe—I don’t know,’ she sighed. ‘It’ll make it much more real if it has a sex, much more of a person. A son or daughter, instead of just a baby. And then if anything went wrong…’

‘Nothing’s going to go wrong,’ he said, shocked at how much that thought disturbed him. ‘Why should it? People have babies without any problems all the time.’

‘But if it did—’

‘If it did,’ he said gently, ‘it would break your heart, Emelia, whether you knew the sex or not. It’s obvious how much you love it.’

He was right, she realised, but there was still a bit of her that thought it might be tempting fate—which was silly, and the baby
was
very real to her already. Of course it would break her heart if anything happened. Knowing the sex wouldn’t make the pain any worse.

‘I take it you want to know?’ she asked, and he turned his head and gave her a wry smile.