had said. Nope. She didn’t feel the way she felt about Simon. And there was another bonus. She could stop fighting with Simon now that Rayne was back. Fait accompli.
Her mind eased back into the previous thought. The scary one. That she did really love Rayne. There was no ‘might’ about it. She really was in no better spot than she had been this morning because though Rayne was physically here she wasn’t stupid enough to think he was in love with her. And he could leave and have any woman he wanted any time he wanted.
The sauce was ready and she poured it into the jug. The beauty of this recipe, the reason she was the only one who made it in her family, was the secret ingredient that stopped the film forming on the top. So it didn’t grow a skin.
That was a joke. She needed the opposite. She needed to grow ten skins so she could quietly peel away a new layer of herself to show Rayne so that she didn’t dump it all on him at once. Because she knew it would require patience if she wanted to help him see he had a chance of a future he’d never dreamed about.
That he could be the kind of man any child would be proud to call his or her father. The kind of man any woman wanted to share her full life with—not just the bedroom.
What was with these pregnancy hormones? She needed to stop thinking about the bedroom. She ran her finger down the spoon handle on the way to the sink. Coated her finger in the rich golden sauce. Lifted it to her lips and closed her eyes. Mmm …
Rayne tried not to stare at Maeve as she parted her lips to admit a custard-covered fingertip. Watched her savour the thick swirl. Shut her eyes. Sigh blissfully as she put the spoon in the sink. Geez. Give a guy a break. If the day hadn’t been enough without the almost overwhelming urge to pick her up from amidst all these people and ravish a heavily pregnant woman.
Louisa was talking to him. ‘Sorry.’ He blinked and turned to the little woman and he had the idea she wasn’t blind to what had distracted him if the twinkle in her eyes was anything to go by.
‘I said if you would like to follow me I’ll show you your room. It’s small but I think you’ll like the position. And all the rooms open out onto a veranda and have their own chair and table setting outside the door.’ She bustled out of the kitchen and he followed.
‘That’s the bathroom. It’s shared with Maeve and Simon and Tara.’
He nodded and paid a bit more attention to the fact that this old country manse had to be at least a hundred years old. The ceilings were a good twelve feet high and the wood-panelled walls looked solid and well built.
Louisa gestured to a door. ‘Maeve said she didn’t mind there was a connecting door between the two. Do you?’ She twinkled up at him.
‘Um. No. That will be fine.’
‘I thought it might be. Especially as she’s getting near to her time and if she wanted to she could leave the door open between you.’
It was a good idea. That look of nervous anticipation he’d seen in Maeve’s eyes this morning, he didn’t like to call it fear, did need addressing. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her without clothes. He brought his mind sternly back to the present.
If he could help by being close then that would give him purpose as he tried to come to grips with becoming an unexpected part of a large, noisy, hugging family—all that contact took a bit of getting used to.
He still couldn’t believe they weren’t all wishing him back to prison away from Maeve. But he knew for a fact Maeve was glad to see him. Maybe too glad, considering the prize she’d won.
Louisa opened the door next to Maeve’s and, sure enough, it was a small room, but it did have a double bed against the wall and a chest of drawers. All he needed. ‘Thanks, Louisa. It’s great. Can I fix you up for it?’
‘Lordy, no. I don’t need money. I’m well looked after. But you may end up working every now and then for Angus at the hospital if he gets stuck. Everyone helps everyone in Lyrebird Lake.’
Well, not where he’d come from. He felt like he’d fallen into some religious sect and they were going to ask for his soul soon, except he knew that Simon was regular. And Maeve. And this sweet, generous older lady was obviously sincere. So it looked like he had a casual job as well as a place to lay his head. Though he couldn’t see him being needed much at the hospital. ‘Maybe I can help around the house. Or the garden? I wouldn’t say no to be able to burn off some energy.’
She looked at him, a good once-over that had him wishing he’d tucked his shirt in and shaved, but she nodded. ‘I have a pile of wood I need chopped before winter. The axe is in the wee shed under the tank stand. It’s a bit early in the year but whenever you feel the need you just go right ahead and chop.’
He grinned. Couldn’t help himself. Of all the things he’d thought might happen as he’d driven through the night to get here, getting a job as a woodcutter hadn’t figured in the speculations.
He followed her out. ‘Have I got time to nip back to the pub and let them know I won’t be staying?’
‘Have you left anything there?’
‘No.’ You didn’t leave things in pub accommodation. Or maybe you did in Lyrebird Lake. Who knew?
‘Well, that’s fine. Denny Webb will be over visiting his wife at the hospital. Angus will pass the message on to the ward sister.’
Louisa waved to his car out in the street. ‘You could bring your things in and then wash in the bathroom if you want.’ She had noticed the bristles. ‘And we’ll see you back in a few minutes because it’s nearly time for Christmas lunch.’
Obediently Rayne walked out to his car and brought in his overnight bag. The rest of his stuff—one small suitcase—was under the tarpaulin in the back of the truck. Not that he had much. He’d pretty well given everything else away. Had never been one for possessions. Wasn’t quite sure what had influenced him to buy the old Chev. He’d passed it in a car yard on his way in from the airport and it had reminded him of his mother in happier times.
After his sleep in the motel for eight hours he’d walked back to the car yard an hour before closing time. Had told the guy if he could arrange a full mechanical check by a third party, transfers and insurance and tank of petrol in the time they had left, he’d pay the full price.
By the time he’d had a feed and returned, his car was waiting for him. So he did have one possession.
And an exit strategy. Both good things.
Walking back through the kitchen and outside, it seemed that Christmas lunch would be even noisier than breakfast.
Simon offered him a beer before they all sat down and, to hell with it, he took the glass and it was icy cold, and even though they were in the shade from the trees, it was pretty warm outside.
It was Christmas in Queensland and the beer tasted like Australia. Strong and dry and producing a sigh of momentary content. He noted some corny Christmas music on the CD player and Maeve was holding one hand over her left ear, pleading for it to stop. Tara was laughing and Louisa looked offended.
He leaned towards her. ‘So you don’t like carols?’
‘Not twenty-four seven for the last month,’ she whispered. ‘Save me.’
He laughed. And gave her a quick squeeze as she went past with another jug of sauce to put on the end of the table. She glanced back and she looked at him like he’d given her a present. Be careful there, he thought to himself. Expectations and what he could actually deliver could differ.
Angus came up and stood beside him. Raised his glass. ‘Lemonade. I’m on call.’ He grimaced. ‘But cheers. I hear you’re staying.’
‘Cheers.’ He lifted his beer. ‘Staying until after the baby at least.’
‘Good.’
That was unexpected approval. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s