him home in Matt’s truck—‘because there’s no way you’re driving tonight,’ the doctor had decreed, and Matt could only agree. He didn’t even feel like driving.
Behind them was the police car, driven by a police constable and containing Erin and the twins. Behind that another helper was driving Erin’s Home car. That car held enough Welfare donations to clothe a small republic.
Heck!
He glanced back again and Erin was sitting in the passenger seat of the car behind. They were just turning out of town, and as they passed under a street lamp she looked right back at him, raised her eyebrows and gave him a quizzical look that said she knew exactly what he was thinking.
That this was a disaster.
This was just great!
He had a mind-reading, bossy tenant, with twins and trouble attached. His nice bachelor existence looked like it was being threatened in a much more dire way than when he’d thought earlier that he might—just might, mind you, definitely not would—ask Charlotte to marry him.
Charlotte was one thing. Married to Charlotte, he knew he’d be free to carry on with life as normal, and his emotional involvement would be minimal.
But life with Erin and twins?
Life could just be chaos.
Then he twisted back to face the road ahead as Rob applied the brakes. Behind them, the cavalcade slowed as well.
‘I think this might be someone wanting to speak to you,’ Rob said, and he gave him the same quizzical look that he’d just received from Erin. ‘If I’m not mistaken, it’s your Charlotte.’
His Charlotte…
Once more he had that sensation of entrapment—the sensation he’d had since he was about thirteen and Charlotte had told the district he was the man she intended marrying. Of course it was Charlotte, driving her smart little red BMW and pulling to a halt as Rob steered Matt’s truck to a halt on the grass verge. Then she was out of the car and darting across the road toward them.
Charlotte was looking immaculate. Of course. When had she not? She was wearing her signature, beautifully cut, white slacks and white silk blouse, her long, blonde hair was carefully braided into a chignon, and she looked all ready for their intimate dinner.
Except she was no longer expecting her special dinner. Bay Beach had a very effective communication system, and it hadn’t let Charlotte down. She’d heard of the fire. Hauling the truck door open before Matt could do it himself, she practically threw herself into his arms in relief.
‘Matthew… Oh, love, you could have been killed.’ But emotion or not, her eyes were taking everything in, including Rob—and including the red velvet box lying forgotten in the map compartment. Sensibly, she ignored it. Almost.
‘Sally rang and she said you dived into that burning building and pulled out the orphans all by yourself. She said you were burned!’ She stepped back and saw the nasty red blister on his forehead and the grime of smoke all over him—and then, instinctively, she looked down at herself.
Whoops. Her pure white ensemble was now smudged grey.
House fires, however, required courage. Matt had been brave and she could be, too.
‘It’ll wash off,’ she told her beloved. ‘Not to worry. But, Matt, Sally said the doctor said you’re not to stay alone.’ She turned to Rob. ‘Bring him to my place.’
It was time Matt put a word in, but it was tricky to do.
However, Rob was made of sterner stuff.
‘We can’t,’ Rob said, and thumbed back to the cavalcade. ‘Matt’s got all the company he needs.’
Charlotte looked back—and then stared in horror as she saw who was in the police car. ‘Not the orphans!’ she gasped. ‘You’re not taking the orphans home with you. Matt, you’re burned!’
‘I can cope.’
‘You can’t.’
‘Charlotte, there’s only two kids needing a place to stay, and Erin will take care of them.’ Matt was growing uneasy now. Erin had emerged from the police car and was walking over to see what was happening. From where she was now, she could hear every word Charlotte said. ‘Erin’s been through a lot, Charlotte.’
‘I’m sure she has.’ Charlotte shook her head in disbelief that this could be happening. ‘But darling, so have you.’ She turned her head and raised her voice. ‘Erin, Matt’s coming back to my house. He needs to be looked after. Your organisation can look after you.’
Whoa…
Erin took a deep breath. Count to ten, she told herself. This is important.
Charlotte was not one of Erin’s favorite people. Lovely and gracious, and generous to people she considered the ‘right sort’, her graciousness had never extended to Erin. Erin was three years younger and about a million miles below her on the social ladder. As she’d grown older, Charlotte had grown more adept at hiding her distaste for those she considered beneath her, but somehow Erin always knew exactly where she stood. Right on the bottom rung!
But, like Charlotte, Erin could be ruthless when she needed to be, and she needed to be ruthless now. ‘Charlotte, Matt’s offered us accommodation.’
‘I don’t care if he has.’ Up until now, Charlotte had had a wonderful feeling about this evening. The sight of that tiny crimson box confirmed she’d been right, and now all it had come to was this! ‘Anyone can see he’s unwell.’
And so was Erin. She’d been through enough without Charlotte’s arguments. Back in the police car were two subdued little boys who needed a bed, fast. She knew well enough that at Matt’s house she would find one—and one for herself, too.
There wasn’t an alternative.
‘Matt’s offered to take us in and I’ve accepted,’ she said, and there was a certain amount of grit in her voice. ‘I’m sorry, Charlotte, but we’ve been through too much tonight to stand on the road and argue. If you could just let us go…’
‘Matt’s hurt.’
‘Then follow him home and fix him up,’ Erin replied wearily. ‘I’m sure I can’t do it with your style. A sticking plaster and a push in the direction of bed is all I’m capable of, believe me.’
Charlotte glared. She didn’t like this one bit.
But what was the alternative? Charlotte was thinking on her feet, and she was thinking fast.
Firstly—naturally—she was thinking that Erin was attractive and unmarried and she didn’t like the thought of such a woman staying with Matt. But then, Matt had known Erin for ages—since childhood in fact—and he hadn’t seemed attracted in the past. So maybe that was okay.
Her eyes moved imperceptibly sideways. He’d already purchased the contents of the box, so she needed to concentrate on priorities.
Which were, secondly, that Erin was saddled with the twins. They might be subdued now but the whole town knew their reputation. Matt would be driven crazy before he could get used to them in the house.
The only alternative open to her now was to invite them all back to her place, and that didn’t bear thinking of. She had a perfect little horse stud in the hills; the house was immaculate and children would destroy it.
What else then? Create a scene? No! She knew Matt would hate it. She’d worked so hard to make him see her as the perfect wife that she’d be a fool to mess it up now.
The velvet box was there, like a tantalising promise. She could concede a little.
‘Okay, sweetheart,’ she said softly, ignoring Erin totally and turning back to her intended. ‘You go ahead. I’ll bring your dinner over.’
‘My dinner?’ Matt