Rayne watched in amazement. ‘A lyrebird mimic? As in Lyrebird Lake? I guess that figures.’ But there was something so amazing about the pure fearlessness of a wild creature glaring at them as it moved a step closer and cocked his head to stare their way.
Then the little bird, no larger than a thin hen, straightened, spread his fan-shaped tail in a shimmer of movement and proceeded to dance at the edge of the lake for Maeve and Rayne.
A gift for Christmas.
Backward and forward, shimmering his harp-shaped tail as it swayed above his feathered head, and Rayne had never seen anything like it in his life as he clutched Maeve’s hand in his and felt the tight knot in his chest mysteriously loosen the longer it went on. He glanced at Maeve and saw silver tears glistening.
He hugged her closer, drank in the magic without questioning why they were being gifted with it. All too soon it was over and the tail was lowered. One more stern look from the bird and he stepped nonchalantly back into the bush and with a crackle of foliage he disappeared.
They didn’t speak for a moment as the moment sank into both of them.
‘Wow,’ whispered Maeve.
‘Wow is right,’ Rayne said, as he turned and wiped away the silver droplets from Maeve’s face. Leant over and kissed her damp cheek. ‘I feel like we’ve just been blessed.’
‘Me, too.’ And they sat there in silence for a few minutes longer, in an aura of peace between them that had been missing before, and slowly the real ducks came floating back.
Back at the manse
WHEN THEY GOT back Maeve disappeared into the kitchen to make her brandy sauce. Most of the family were out in the back yard—apparently the Christmas lunch table was set out there again—and the little girls were engrossed in their new possessions.
Simon waylaid Rayne and steered him back out the door away from the family. ‘So what have you two decided?’
Rayne wasn’t sure he’d decided anything. Maeve had done all the planning and now it was up to him to keep his end of the bargain. ‘Maeve wants me to stay for the birth. I’ve said I will.’ Simon looked mildly pleased. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ There was that statement that had upset Maeve and it didn’t do anything positive to Simon’s frame of mind either if the frown across his friend’s brow was an indication. He had no idea why it kept popping out.
‘Is it that hard to commit to that? You slept with her.’ His friend was shaking his head.
He held up his hand. ‘Simon, I’m sorry. The last time I saw you it was an awful night. My world was about to implode. I didn’t intend to end up in bed with Maeve.’ He paused. Looked back in his mind and shook his head. ‘But you should have seen her. She was like some peach vision and she poleaxed me.’
Simon glanced sardonically at him. ‘And she dragged you off to bed?’
‘Nope.’ He had to smile at that memory. ‘I carried her.’ And she’d loved it.
Simon raised his brows. ‘Up two flights of stairs?’ Then he put his hand up. ‘Forget I asked that. Tara says the sparks from you two light up the room. I get that. I get being irresistibly drawn to someone. And I get that you don’t do commitment.’
Simon laughed dryly. ‘But I thought I didn’t do commitment until my Tara came along.’
Rayne looked at his friend’s face. Had never seen it so joyous. As if Simon had finally found his feet and the whole world. Rayne couldn’t imagine that. ‘I meant to say congratulations. Tara seems a wonderful woman.’
Simon’s smile grew. ‘She is. And she so tough and …’ He stopped, shook his head ruefully. ‘Nice diversion. But this is about you.’ Simon searched his face and he flinched a little under the scrutiny. ‘Are you in for the long haul?’
Freaking long haul. Geez. He didn’t know if he would last a week. ‘I’m in for the labour. I’m in for what I can do to help Maeve for the birth. But as soon as I cause problems in her life I’m out of here.’
‘And if you don’t cause problems in her life?’ The inference was he had already let her down, and he guessed he had.
‘I didn’t know she was pregnant.’ Thank God.
Simon shrugged. ‘Tara said you didn’t open the mail. And I know you wouldn’t answer my calls. Why?’
It was his turn to shrug but his bitterness swelled despite his effort to control it. ‘I didn’t want to bring her into that place. Either of you. I had to keep the good things pure. And when I got out, I didn’t want to read that she might refuse to see me. So I came here first.’
‘Have you read the letters now?’
‘Yes.’ Could feel the long stare from Simon. Those letters just reiterated how much he was capable of stuffing up other people’s lives.
Simon sighed long and heavily. ‘I love you, man. I’m even getting used to the idea that you will be in Maeve’s life now. In all our lives. But don’t stuff this up.’
So he’d read his mind? Rayne almost laughed, even though it was far from funny. ‘That’s the friend I remember.’
‘Yeah. Merry Christmas.’ Simon punched his shoulder. ‘Let’s go ask Louisa if you can stay. She’ll be over the moon. She likes you.’
‘I get the feeling your grandmother likes everyone.’
Simon laughed. ‘Pretty much.’
Maeve had already asked Louisa.
‘Of course he can stay,’ Louisa enthused. ‘So he’ll be with you when you have the baby.’ She sighed happily. ‘Things have a way of working out.’
Maeve grimaced on the inside. Things weren’t ‘working out’ yet.
There were a lot of things she and Rayne had to sort yet, not the least his attitude of It’s the least I can do. Grrr. But, she reminded herself, this morning she’d been on her own. And he was here!
The magnitude of that overwhelmed her for a moment and she paused in the rhythmic stirring of thickening liquid in the bowl and just soaked that in. Rayne was here. And he was staying. At least until after the birth, and that was all she could ask for. Yet! She wondered if they would actually get much alone time.
Wondered if he was up for that. Wished she was skinny and gorgeous and could drag him off to bed. Or be carried there by her gorgeous sex object ‘partner’, round belly and all.
Partner. She’d always been uncomfortable with that sterile word. Not that Rayne was obviously sterile. And he wasn’t her boyfriend. He certainly wasn’t her lover.
‘You want me to do that?’ Louisa’s worried voice. Maeve jumped and stirred again in the nick of time before she made lumps in the sauce.
‘Wool-gathering.’ Louisa’s favourite saying and she’d picked it up. It described her state of mind perfectly. Little floating fibres of thought creating a mess of tangles in her brain. Mushing together to make a ball of confused emotions and wishes and fears and silly impossible dreams. Like the flotsam of leftover wool collected from the bushes where the sheep had walked past.
Well, Rayne was nobody’s sheep. He’d never been a part of the flock, had never followed the rules of society except when he’d taken his incredibly intelligent brain to med school at Simon’s insistence.
Men’s voices drifted their way.
And here they came. Simon and Rayne. Two men she loved. The thought froze the smile on her face. She really loved Rayne.