The Midwife's Secret Child

by Fiona McArthur

  He’d left like a shot from a gun. ‘At the time you said your life was in Italy and you were marrying because of a previous arrangement.’ Might have been nice to know that before she’d invited him home.

  Her shiny Italian hero had left without looking back. Her turn to wave away the past. ‘That’s all in the past. Now you’re saying you never slept with your wife?’ Really? Not the Raimondo she’d known.

  ‘No.’ He raised one brow and she decided he did it with a hint of satirical amusement at her expense. She narrowed her eyes. ‘The marriage was annulled for infertility not disclosed—not celibacy. My ex-wife is barren. She did not tell me she had been forced by her father to wed or that she had known with certainty of her infertility. As my late grandfather’s wish for our marriage relied on children, that made for reasonable grounds for annulment.’

  And boy, did that sound horrible and cold. She rubbed her suddenly chilled arms. And this was her daughter’s father? So she’d been lucky he’d been called away then. His unemotional recital made her wonder if his wife had been so dispassionate at being deemed unworthy. She shuddered. Like her mother and the small child Faith had been were deemed unworthy when her own father had left.

  Her revulsion must have shown on her face because he said, ‘Do not judge me for this. Maria never wanted me. She left with more wealth and has found a new husband. I wish her well.’

  ‘Big of you.’

  ‘Especially as she was unfaithful during our marriage.’ Then he waved in the air. ‘Pah!’ He waved again, obviously annoyed with himself. ‘This is not your concern. I find myself baring my soul to a woman I barely knew six years ago and again today. Forgive me.’

  He was cross with himself all right. If he hadn’t looked so sinfully sexy during his sudden almost-tantrum she would have laughed. But his honesty shone through the big hand that pulled regretfully over his face. Maybe she hadn’t been as ridiculously blind as she had thought all that time ago. No, don’t go there. Things were very different now.

  She lifted her chin. ‘My fault for asking. But at least I know a little more of you.’ Though she didn’t really. Except... ‘You really didn’t get my letters?’

  ‘No. I am sorry.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Though I can guess who did.’

  She supposed so. ‘Your wife?’

  He shook his head with more regret. Not helpful to Chloe, though. ‘Hard to understand Maria could be so cruel, but she felt the lack of children greatly and resented our marriage even more.’ He looked at her. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.’

  No, you weren’t there, she thought, but she could see why he hadn’t been. ‘My aunt Isabel was there for me. She’s still my rock. Though younger than my mum, she stood as my mother’s rock as well. We manage very well together.’

  ‘No need for others?’ He asked the question with a bitterness she didn’t deserve.

  ‘We manage very well. Thank you,’ she agreed with composure that was slipping a little. Sadness for her daughter had tightened her throat.

  A comedy of errors, five years of her daughter’s life, and he was the loser if he’d wanted to be involved. And maybe it hadn’t been all his fault. She’d lost as well because even if they’d not ended up together she suspected this man would have been an attentive dad to her little girl as much as he could, considering the physical distance between their two countries.

  As in the past, their thoughts seemed to mesh. ‘Tell me about your pregnancy. Her birth. Her infancy.’ His eyes softened. ‘About Chloe. Your daughter.’

  Her daughter. Not his. He was trying to see her side too. But she couldn’t soften too much. Couldn’t trust that much yet.

  Where did she start? ‘Chloe was born here at Lighthouse Bay Hospital. A beautiful water birth. It was the most amazing day of my life.’ Her eyes misted with the memory. The recollection of those first moments with the weight of her new daughter, pink and wet, heavy between her bare breasts. The scent of her, the downy head and snuffly noises against her skin and the glory that was the wonder of birth.

  Her own pride in her achievement. She would never forget that. But that was all too private. Instead she said, ‘It will be her birthday soon. She’ll be five in two days.’

  He leaned forward, his face lighting. ‘Two days?’

  ‘Seventeenth of November.’

  ‘May I be there for her birthday?’ Nice of him to ask, but she wasn’t a fool.

  She had no right to bar him, despite her misgivings. She didn’t believe he’d cause trouble but to be wrong would be bad. ‘That’s up to you.’ She met his eyes. ‘And up to Chloe. And how long you plan on staying might be nice to know as well.’ She lifted a hand, palm up, in question.

  ‘A week. I have given myself a week. I fly out next Friday.’

  She could do a week. If his family didn’t call him back. Ha!

  Could protect herself for a week as well.

  Protect herself against the chemistry between them that she could still faintly feel, even through the thickest wall she could erect and had become very good at maintaining ever since Chloe’s birth.

  Then he would be gone and her life would, hopefully could, return to normal. She wasn’t moving to Italy and he wasn’t moving to Lighthouse Bay so all would sort in the end.

  He sat back. Studied her with that intense expression on his face. ‘What is she like? This daughter of ours?’ Avoiding discussion on what happened after he flew away again, but she guessed nobody knew the answer to that yet.

  Knowing the extent of his stay was solid ground, as was the topic of Chloe. She could talk of her daughter until the sun set. ‘She’s dark-haired and strong...’ Like you, the thought flashed through her brain, but a wholly feminine version of Raimondo’s darkness.

  She went on, ‘... With green eyes and long lashes.’

  ‘Like you.’ She lifted her head at the echo of her thoughts and she heard the smile in his voice as he said it.

  Maybe. ‘She’s a minx who gives us pleasure in her company every single day.’ She shook her head at the memories that swirled like bright confetti when she thought of her daughter. ‘To hear her funny little cackle of a witch’s laugh is to know the joy of being a parent.’ She stopped. Could have snatched back the thoughtless cliché. ‘I’m sorry. Poor word choice in the circumstances.’

  He waved that away, still watching her face with an intensity she found discomfiting. ‘You love her dearly.’

  ‘More than life itself.’ Twice today she’d had that thought and a cold foreboding washed over her. She shivered and his hand came across the table to touch hers.

  ‘I would never do anything to hurt you or Chloe,’ he said softly. Sincerely. His eyes held her gaze like his fingers held her wrist and warmth flooded over her. ‘Never.’

  She nodded. ‘I hope I can believe you.’ But still the feeling of foreboding didn’t go away.

  She changed the subject and eased her hand free. ‘Where are you staying?’

  He gestured to the hill with the same hand. ‘In the guest house down from the hospital.’

  She knew it well. ‘Our locum doctors stay there.’

  ‘Do they?’ He smiled at her. ‘And how is your little hospital that you loved so much?’ As if again sensing her need to regroup.

  A safe topic she could also talk about for hours. ‘Grown. We birth over a hundred babies a year here now.’

  ‘Then you must have found more doctors to carry on. There were staffing hardships before.’

  ‘A lot has changed since you were here.’ And wasn’t that an understatement. Her. Their daughter. She thought about the new families in Lighthouse Bay. Her wonderful circle of friends that grew with each new relationship.

  ‘We are a midwife-led unit now, so doctors come only for the general patients and obstetric emergencies.’

  He smiled. ‘I would be redundant alr
eady.’

  ‘You never planned to work here.’ Wouldn’t that be a hard thing for her to come to terms with if he was here all the time? Crikey.

  He inclined his head. ‘As you say. I never planned this. Though I have been doing locum work since my wife and I parted. In poorer suburbs in Italy. A little aid work in Third World countries. My brother has occasionally forgone the pens of the pharmaceutical business and has sometimes joined me in aid work.’

  She remembered he had mentioned his work doubts even when they’d met. His new focus helped her to relax a little more when he added, ‘The work is much more satisfying and demanding to fill my life. I regret that even your Lighthouse Bay receded into a moment in time.’

  Then he could have come back after his divorce, she mused. Come back at least to see if what they’d experienced really had been as special as she’d thought.He’d decided not to, obviously. But things worked out, or didn’t, as the case might be, for reasons no one knew, she told herself. Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed a little drearily.

  ‘Tell me what else has changed in this place you love so much over the years.’

  She wasn’t sure what he was thinking now but she ploughed on, relieved to have a lighter topic to discuss. ‘My boss, Ellie, has married, and my friend, Catrina, as well.’

  He lifted his head. ‘Ah, Catrina.’ He smiled and she tilted her head to understand why Trina’s name had brought amusement.

  He went on, ‘It was this Catrina’s wedding that brought me here. One of my colleagues at the hospital came to this wedding. She is a friend of Sam’s sister and was back visiting—apparently she was at Sam and Ellie’s wedding too, and mentioned to me about you and your Chloe.’

  Faith stared at him. Trina’s wedding? A guest from his town in Italy? ‘Mentioned my daughter and me?’ There had been some Italian doctors, friends of Sam’s sister, but she’d thought them from the city. Surely not. ‘Who was your colleague?’

  ‘Francesca Moran. I heard her mention your Lighthouse Bay and I asked after you.’ He spread his hands depreciatingly. ‘It had been so long since I’d heard of this place so of course the name called to me.’ He shrugged and there was a decidedly amused glint in his eyes. ‘And, of course, my...’ he paused as if searching ‘...ears prickled?’

  ‘Ears pricked up. Yes.’ With a little impatience. ‘Why?’ She tried to remember if he’d met Trina before. But their intense relationship/liaison had been so short and all-encompassing she didn’t think they’d left her cottage except to go to the cave.

  As some of those very intimate recollections intruded her face warmed and she looked away. She’d had these memories locked up so long she’d almost forgotten the details. If she let herself relive how it was she might not sleep for a week.

  Thankfully, Raimondo seemed to have missed her embarrassment and tutted as if impatient with the subject. ‘I asked if she’d seen you and she remembered yes, because your daughter Chloe had been very pretty and had been chasing the tiny flower girl of Trina’s husband.’

  Faith remembered, though it was more than a year ago. Chloe had been adorable, as had Trina’s stepdaughter Piper, and some of her embarrassed confusion seeped away and was replaced with maternal pride. ‘She was charged with looking after Piper. And yes, Piper was only two and the flower girl. Chloe can be very responsible for her age.’

  He smiled at her obvious pride. ‘Of course she is. She will be composed like her mother.’

  She didn’t know about that—she was feeling anything but composed at this moment and she needed to get this conversation back on steady ground.

  ‘And because of this you came?’

  ‘Because of this I came.’

  Nope. She didn’t understand. ‘I could have been married with many children.’ But she wasn’t, mostly because of the impact he’d had on her life, not something she’d dwelt on but she thought of it now. And narrowed her eyes at him.

  A shadow crossed his face. ‘As you say. Though I was told otherwise. My friend knew you had no husband and Chloe’s age made me wonder.’

  Obviously, it had made him wonder. ‘Wonder enough to cross the world and see?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She watched his face. ‘And did you investigate further?’

  ‘As you say.’ His expression remained unreadable. She decided he was being deliberately vague. ‘I owe you many apologies,’ he added.

  Like that would help, she thought, but she’d decided against stewing in bitterness a long time ago. It changed nothing and she refused to colour her own and Chloe’s lives with negative thoughts. That philosophy had stood her in good stead and she wasn’t being driven by someone else to change now.

  He asked quietly, ‘Is there a special man in your life?’

  She blinked. Guessed she could understand why he would ask as he’d just exploded into their world. She could say yes. As protection against the tendrils of attraction this man was already curling around her like wisps of smoke. She was fighting it but she had past experience that his illusion of smoke could lead to a sudden flame.

  But she wasn’t into lying either... ‘No.’ She lifted her head. ‘Not at this time.’ Apart from him, there hadn’t been a man in her life, really. A few brief ones in uni. Before that, as a child, the father she could barely remember, who had left her mother and her. But she wasn’t telling him that. ‘Just male friends. And husbands of my friends.’

  Her eyes met his and she explained lest he think it was all about him. ‘It’s better for Chloe that I don’t expose her to the whims of a passing relationship.’

  She still didn’t know what it had been about Raimondo that had penetrated her barriers years ago—why had she, as a young naïve woman, brought this stranger from another land into her home, to all the places that were dear to her and allowed him access to her heart? To her body?

  Because of the magic. And that was the torment of it. Spending time with Raimondo had been like sprinkling fairy dust over her world until she’d felt alive and aware, hypersensitive to the beauty all around her. She’d been caught in the bubble of his admiration and returned it to him tenfold. She wouldn’t do that this time.

  She looked across at the beach in front of her, frowning at it. Even now, the ocean seemed bluer than it had been this morning, the flowers in pots brighter, the sounds of the waves more clear. It was fainter, but she could feel that magic now. Again. Looked back at him as he sat back in his chair and studied her too.

  In the past this man had soared into her life like a comet, searing away her reserves, and she knew what had happened the last time with the heat of their collision at the airport. But then he’d rocketed straight out again.

  Oh, she was over her feeling of abandonment but she didn’t want that for Chloe. No way.

  Not really surprising she hadn’t rushed into making herself vulnerable to a man again. Not bitter. Just not open to trusting closeness again.

  She expanded on her answer, letting him know where her priorities lay. ‘I will give Chloe all my time until she starts school before I see if I want to cultivate a man’s company on a more permanent basis.’

  He raised his brows as if she’d said something vaguely unsettling but he closed his mouth and silence fell between them.

  To fill it she said, ‘My need for male company has been easily satisfied by social outings with my friends and their husbands or the families of the babies I’ve welcomed.’

  He nodded. ‘Then this is good as it is not confusing for Chloe during my visit.’

  He was concerned about her daughter’s feelings and, against her better judgement, she softened towards him again. A tiny voice whispered plaintively that it was only because of Chloe he was glad there was no another man.

  Then she pulled herself up. No. Now she could feel the heat in her cheeks again, damn him. This was how he had managed to get under her guard last time, wi
th solicitude and care and treating her as if she were a princess he needed to guard from the world. Something she’d had no experience of from a man.

  And hadn’t that changed when his brother had called?

  Oh, yes.

  She knew where she really stood. Just a phone call and he’d be gone. Not his fault. Oh, no. But family calls...

  Her aunt had always said that for the Italian men their family was everything. Well, she had a family, Chloe and Izzy, and she needed to make sure her daughter was safe from the disappointments an unreliable father could bring to her life, so she wasn’t falling for his transient solicitude again until he’d proven himself. She would be calm. Careful. Consistent in her barriers.

  Who knew what crisis would make him leave next time? She would protect Chloe from the devastation she could suffer when his larger-than-life presence disappeared in a moment. She knew how it felt and Chloe would too in seven days’ time. Faith needed to be clear on expectations with Chloe ASAP.

  But it was so strange talking like this with a man she’d thought she would never see again.

  He’d been watching her silently and she wondered if he could read her thoughts and if they’d crossed her face for him to see. ‘What of your friends in your life? Will they be worried that I have come back?’

  Did he think it odd she had no man in her life? It could have been tricky if she’d had a boyfriend.

  ‘All my male friends are married to women I care about. Though my aunt has been hinting that when Chloe starts school I should look to building more...adult friendships outside my work.’ She looked at him. ‘I might look at that then.’

  Raimondo glanced around pointedly. ‘And no single men have been clamouring at your door? Are they blind not to want to capture you for themselves?’ He looked so pleased with her lack of suitors her irritation rose.