The Marriage Trap (Book 2, The Mackenzies)

by Diana Fraser

  He looked up at the doctor. “So, if you can’t see the sex, what’s so important about us viewing the scan?”

  The doctor smiled and this time it reached his eyes. “It’s not always about the physical, Callum.” The doctor turned to Gemma. “There’s a few things I’d like to discuss with Callum, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside, Gemma?”

  Callum frowned as he watched Gemma leave the room. Experience told him his family’s doctor was about to give him a lecture.

  “Dr Cooper was better than I thought.”

  “He’s been our family doctor for years. He knows his stuff. What were you and he talking about?”

  “Just about my pregnancy. How I’ve been keeping and other stuff.”

  “Such as?”

  “Just family stuff.”

  “I know about your parents, Gemma, you told me. What else haven’t you told me?”

  He felt the surprised glance, even though he kept his eyes straight ahead.

  “There’s little to tell.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me? Where were you before you came here? What made you come here, what made you leave everything behind?”

  He glanced at her and she appeared even paler if anything.

  “You’ve got me living with you, you’ve got me marrying you, you’re going to be a father to our child. Leave me something. My past is mine.”

  “It couldn’t have been easy growing up with just a father. Where did your mother go to?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been told. All I know is that I don’t want to be like her.”

  “I think you’re more like her than you know.” He could see the shock in her face.

  “I’d never abandon my child. Never. I know what’s it’s like not to be loved. I won’t inflict that on my child.”

  “I didn’t say you would. But, there’s a part of you—like it or not—that you’ve inherited from her. A thirst for adventure—a need to escape?”

  “I’m not my mother.”

  “So you’ll do the right thing, stay with me because of the child?”

  “That’s right.”

  Not because of any feelings she had for him. But he knew that already. She’d made that abundantly clear. All this stuff about needing to be free was just another way of telling him she had no feelings for him. Well, that was fine because he’d done with love. But she was to be the mother of his child—his wife—and he’d make good the doctor’s suggestions of giving her her own space at Glencoe, even if he couldn’t see the point in it.

  Gemma was relieved Callum didn’t feel the need to break the silence of their journey back to Glencoe. Seeing the baby on the monitor had stunned them both. But, she suspected, for different reasons.

  For her, it made it so real. Despite all she said, she was scared of the child growing inside her. Scared she wouldn’t be able to care for it, scared she wouldn’t be able to do her best for it. Callum might think whatever he wanted, but it was fear that was driving her into this marriage.

  She glanced at him, grim faced behind the sunglasses, his mouth a straight line. Whereas, Callum, she suspected, was simply relieved. The baby was well. Gemma had been sorted out. Another thing ticked off his list. All under control.

  But why he’d gripped her hand when he saw the baby, she had no idea. Some instinctive need to connect with her? She dismissed the idea immediately. Callum didn’t do “connect.” He didn’t seem to need any form of emotional engagement whatsoever.

  She shifted her head on the headrest and looked at the unvarying golden plains. She suddenly saw her life rolling onwards forever, as blank as the plain that looked back at her. She closed her eyes.

  She must have dozed off because she woke suddenly when the car pulled into the driveway. She opened her eyes to find Callum staring at her.

  “We’re home.”

  “Home…” she repeated, with a faint huff of laughter.

  “You were tired.”

  “Umm. Long hours, difficulty sleeping.”

  “Doc said you’d been stressed. He suggested I do something about it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”

  They walked around the rear of the stables to a large barn. Callum pushed open the doors and stood aside for her to enter. It was a vast space with double height doors at each end, closed now, but presumably large enough for farm equipment to enter. The roof space was open with oak beams soaring up to the center beam like a medieval hall.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s yours if you want it. I’ll have it renovated. You can use it for your art studio.”

  Gemma froze. “Mine?” She didn’t think he’d even have heard the word, she’d uttered it so quietly. She turned to look at him. “Mine?” she repeated.

  He nodded. “Doctor Cooper said you needed your own space. I guess he’s right. You can have this if you want it.”

  She swallowed, looking around the soaring space. She shook her head in disbelief.

  Callum frowned. “I know it’s dark at the moment. We can have the double doors on both sides replaced with glass and windows punched in the side wall.”

  She couldn’t turn to him but looked up at the ceiling, willing the tears to disappear. Surreptitiously she swiped them from her eyes and nodded her head. “That would be great.” It seemed such a small thing to say in response to something as big as this.

  “Hey, don’t get upset. I’m sorry it’s a bit rough. But it’ll be okay.”

  She pressed her lips firmly together, willing herself not to break down. “It’s perfect.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “It’s just a studio.”

  She shook her head but didn’t reply. She couldn’t begin to tell him what it was he’d given her because he’d given her something far more than a mere studio. He’d given her something she’d never had before—consideration.

  “And if you want to go out and about, I’ll get Morgan to take you. It’s a big country. I don’t want you out on your own but I don’t want you to feel trapped either. I want you safe, not trapped. Just make sure you always take Morgan with you. I trust him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Just take care.” He paused. “Of the baby.”

  She smiled. She was beginning to understand him now. “Dinner, tonight?”

  She felt hopeful for the first time since she’d discovered she was pregnant. Perhaps there was something that could be gleaned from the wreckage of their relationship. He’d shown he was kind, thoughtful. They just needed time now. And they had plenty of that.

  He lifted his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. “Sure.”

  Dinner with his wife to be. Callum watched her walk off, the spring in her step, the long red hair swinging around her back, her small, but rounded figure walking up to the house and he felt an ache for her that went too deep for comfort. He turned away and walked to the office. He couldn’t go there again, particularly not with Gemma. Claire had wanted to be cared for and he had. Until that day when she’d insisted she spend the night in Christchurch alone. What no one else knew was that she had been pregnant. He’d let her go, given her the space she said she’d wanted. The fire investigators had said it was faulty wiring that had caused the blaze that had killed her. But it wasn’t. It was his own negligence—he should never have let her go. Particularly when it was discovered she hadn’t been alone. He doubted the pain of loss and betrayal would ever leave him.

  No. He’d do what he had to do for Gemma but he couldn’t allow anyone to want more from him than he could give.

  There’d be no dinner tonight. He had to get away.

  It was early evening and Gemma sat on the swing chair on the side verandah that looked out across the wide expanse of the Glencoe estate. She’d had a long sleep in the afternoon and had awoken refreshed and with a new optimism. She’d dressed with care and was looking forward to dinner with Callum. She’d enjoyed the day, being with h
im, seeing her baby. For the first time she’d felt hope surge within her and she believed that it might actually turn out okay.

  Then she’d received the second postcard. Of course it was from Sarah. Who else would have sent it? But just the possibility that it was someone else, that it was Paul, sent a chill to her heart. No. It would have to be Sarah. She tapped the blank postcard she’d received that morning from Los Angeles. Still blank. Sarah clearly trusted no one with messages. What was she doing? Holidaying? It was strange that the intermittent postcards were coming closer to New Zealand. It surely didn’t mean she was going to come here and claim her inheritance? It wasn’t what she’d wanted, it wasn’t in keeping with her character.

  Gemma’s musing were interrupted by the sound of a plane’s engine. She frowned.

  “Miss Winters?”

  She turned to find Maria standing by the door.

  “Mr. Mackenzie wished me to tell you that he’s had to go to Wellington for a few days. He was looking for you this afternoon to tell you himself, but you were sleeping and he didn’t like to disturb you.”

  Disappointment bit deep. She’d thought they’d made some ground today. It was the first time they’d spoken easily and she’d felt something of the old spark of warmth between them. She’d obviously been wrong.

  “Thanks, Maria.”

  “You’ll be requiring dinner in the dining room?”

  She mustered up a weak smile. “No thanks. I’ll eat it here.”

  “Certainly.” Maria left.

  She walked to the edge of the verandah and looked out. Across the green oasis of the garden, the cropped pastures gave way to an arid sun-dried airstrip, just big enough for Callum’s plane. She watched it turn at the end of the valley and pick up speed for takeoff. The roar of the plane filled the valley.

  Her husband-to-be was on that plane. And she hadn’t a clue when he was returning or who he was going to be with.

  She hardly knew him. She certainly didn’t know the circles he moved in. Their own small part of the South Island was only a fraction of his world. There could very well be a woman, tucked away, awaiting his pleasure. Who was she? Was she important to Callum? Was she long term? And was he flying to be with her now?

  She sighed. It wasn’t meant to have been this way. She looked away as the plane soared off into the sky and she took in a gulp of the fresh air overlaid with a waft of engine fuel. Well, if he was maintaining his independence, so damn well was she. She had a life to get on with. She watched a group of men, including Morgan, walk back to the stables and garages.

  And her life began here. Tomorrow.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Callum tuned out from the conversation that centered on his young brother’s, James’s, latest amorous exploit, and looked around the dinner table at his family and friends. James, as usual, charmed and entertained everyone with his anecdotes. But James’s stories were of no interest to him tonight, or only in as much as they delayed an inquisition into his own love life. Because Callum knew everyone was curious about recent events at Glencoe. No doubt his mother hadn’t wasted any time in sharing the news.

  Dallas, his elder brother, cast pointed glances at Callum from time to time. His old friends Guy and Lucia shot him the occasional amused look, while Cassandra, Dallas’s wife, simply looked at him with sympathy. He didn’t know which was the most alarming. Well, they’d all have to wait. He wasn’t James, and he wouldn’t be holding forth about his own love life, no matter what they wanted.

  He sighed and gazed out, beyond Dallas, to the lights of Wellington that sparkled like jewels around the dark harbor. He tried to focus on the flashing light of an advertising hoarding, but the distant bronze-gold shimmer instead conjured up the image of a beautiful redhead, whose brown eyes became a kind of gold in certain lights—like the color of demerara sugar—a mouth-watering contrast to her creamy skin. He licked his lips as his mind drifted away, further still. Suddenly he felt a tugging at his ankles and looked down under the table to see Lily, Dallas’s daughter, demanding his attention.

  “So, what’s all this about you getting married?” Dallas leaned back on the leather chair and slipped his arm around Cassandra.

  Cassandra punched him lightly on the arm. “I told you to leave it to me.”

  Dallas glanced over at his wife with an amused smile. “You had an hour and you made no headway.” He sipped his coffee. “I decided the direct approach would be more effective.”

  Callum extricated himself from Lily, who made a grab for the dog instead. Callum was no good with children, he didn’t have a clue what to do with them and he didn’t understand why Lily didn’t get that. Instead, she always made a beeline for him.

  Lucia smiled. “You may as well come clean. What’s been going on?”

  Irritated he glanced around the table. James, Lucia and Guy, Dallas and Cassandra were all grinning at him as if he’d done something vastly entertaining.

  “What’s been going on, Uncle Callum?” Lily parroted, grinning up at him with a gap-toothed smile from under the table. She was tying a pink ribbon around a border collie—a pup from Glencoe—who gazed up at Callum with mournful eyes. Callum shook his head in helpless sympathy and looked back up at Dallas.

  “Gemma and I are to be married. We’re expecting a baby in August. What more is there to say?”

  “Well, nothing much except, how the hell did that happen?” Dallas could barely suppress his amazement. “I thought mother must have got it wrong. Since Claire, you’d sworn never to marry. Let alone have children.”

  “If it’s the future of Glencoe you’re worried about—”

  “Of course not. James and I have got more than our hands full with other business interests. Glencoe has always been for you and your heirs.” Dallas sat back. “At least you’ll have some heirs now.”

  Cassandra leaned forward and laid her hand on Callum’s. Callum could never resist his beautiful sister-in-law—so strong, so smart. He’d listen to her, above his brothers, any day. “Are you happy?”

  The question cut through his defenses. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He cleared his throat, aware that everyone was looking at him. “It’s what I want.”

  She smiled gently. “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I…I can’t remember happy. Not since Claire…”

  Dallas stood up and walked over to get the bottle of wine and the decanter of whisky for Callum. Not that Dallas ever drank, but he refilled everyone else’s glass. “It’s about time you moved on. No point moping over something you have no control over.”

  “Dallas!” Both Lucia and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.

  “He’s right,” Callum said. “And I am moving on.”

  “So what’s she like?” Lucia asked.

  “Shorter than you. Slim.” Callum shrugged.

  Dallas, James and Guy shook their heads while the women exchanged amused glances. “You’ve just described half the population of the women in the world,” Guy said.

  “Well, I don’t know. She’s just, Gemma. You’ll see when you meet her.”

  “So the wedding really is next month? What’s the rush?”

  “There’s no point in delaying. I want it sorted.”

  “Do you know if the baby’s a boy or a girl?” Lucia bit her lip as if annoyed with herself for asking, for showing her interest. Callum relented a little. He knew Lucia and Guy had been trying for a baby for a long time and had had no luck so far. It couldn’t be easy to watch Callum about to become a father.

  “No. Gemma had a scan but it wasn’t clear enough to see the sex.” He hesitated, remembering how seeing the tiny image on the screen had moved him. “It was strange.”

  Guy and Dallas laughed. “Who’d have thought it? Callum Mackenzie getting emotional about a baby!”

  “Okay!” Cassandra sighed, trying to shut them up, obviously aware of Lucia’s feelings. “So tell us about Gemma. Where’s she from?”

  “England.”

 
“Right. And her family? Are they coming over?”

  “No, she doesn’t have any.”

  “Oh.” She opened her eyes wide in surprise. “That’s sad. So she must be feeling very alone.”

  He shrugged in response.

  “Don’t you care?” Dallas asked.

  “Look, cut out the inquisition, will you? Of course I care.”

  “No, Cassandra’s right.” Dallas leaned forward. “It is sad. What the hell are you doing here when she’s all alone at Glencoe, in the middle of nowhere?”

  “She’s okay. She’s pretty self sufficient.”

  Dallas scoffed. “A case of having to be, I reckon.”

  “I’ve got business in Wellington.”

  “Nothing you couldn’t have done from Glencoe.”

  “And there’s the charity event at the museum tomorrow night.”

  “What?” Dallas shook his head in disbelief. “You never go to those things unless there’s a woman you want there. And that can’t be so in this case. Can it?”

  Callum rubbed his hand over his face. “No of course not. I just thought I’d go for once.”

  “Sounds to me as if you wanted to escape for a while.”

  “I don’t run away from things.” A heavy silence followed in which he realized that that was just what he’d done. “Not usually…”

  “Looks like you are now. And what about Gemma? All alone with only mother lurking nearby. You didn’t tell mother to visit her, did you?”

  “You know that Gemma’s met mother already.”

  “And she still wants to marry you?” The others laughed.

  “Of course she does. She knows it’s sensible.”

  “Jeez, mate. You really are the last of the romantics, aren’t you?”

  “You can talk!” Cassandra shot Dallas a glare. “Anyway, back to Gemma. Are you sure she’s okay?”

  “She’s fine. She doesn’t expect anything.”

  “Perhaps that’s because she’s never received anything.” Cassandra paused. “Sounds to me as if you’ve done things the wrong way around. How about wooing her, how about giving her some of your time and company and seeing what comes of that?”