by Margaret Way
“Mum?” Fiona turned to Stella for help.
“I want what’s best for you, sweetheart. Dad and I will always love you.” Already Stella saw her beautiful girl slipping away.
“So all those people were right.” Fiona suddenly remembered things she’d pushed to the back of her mind. “Even Aunty Debby calls me a changeling.”
Stella suddenly caved in, as if she’d taken a knife through the chest. “Oh, God!” she cried. “Of course it worried me. It always worried me.”
Fiona picked up on that right away. “Did you know, Mum?” she asked anxiously.
There was a note of accusation in the girl’s tone, causing Sarah to intervene swiftly. “No, Stella didn’t know, Fiona. How could she?” Sarah laid a firm but tender hand on the girl’s shoulder. “This is a tumultuous time for us all.”
“Incredibly painful!” Stella moaned, while Fiona put an arm around her.
“I’m afraid about all this, Mum. I feel like my head is floating. Yet I know inside—” Fiona touched a hand to her heart “—that Sarah gave birth to me. I was drawn to her the instant I saw her. I recognized that we were…blood. Not merely look-alikes. I thought Mr. McQueen was marvelous, too. And he’s my father! He wants me to live with him.”
“If you want to go,” Sarah said in a soft voice. “We know how much you’ll miss being here, but the last thing any of us want is to upset you. You can visit whenever you like. We’re not going to lose touch. Stella and Alan can come to us, too. With the grace of God, we can all make this transition smoothly.”
“Am I supposed to make the decision now?” Fiona asked fearfully, her slender throat swelling with emotion.
“No, Fiona.” Sarah longed to take her daughter in her arms. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. We wanted you to listen to our story. Think about it. Make your decision then. Your father and I can’t pretend we don’t want you as soon as possible. You have grandparents, too. Kyall’s mother and father. My own parents are dead. I’ve been very much alone in the world.”
“But you have…Kyall?” Fiona blushed at the use of the Christian name.
“Kyall and I were parted for a long time, Fiona,” Sarah explained. “Thinking you, my own little baby, had died, changed my life drastically. I’ve mourned you your entire lifetime. My grief almost ended a wonderful friendship. Kyall and I were inseparable all through our childhood.” Sarah couldn’t help it. She smoothed back her child’s beautiful hair with gentle, loving fingers.
Fiona stared into Sarah’s eyes as if searching for her soul. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, allowing Sarah to continue stroking her hair. “It must have been terrible for you.”
“Seeing you so beautiful, so alive, has changed everything,” Sarah said in a low voice, thinking she’d been given heaven in exchange for purgatory. “I can almost forget the pain, just as a woman forgets the pain of childbirth when her baby arrives. Losing you set me on the path to becoming a doctor.”
“You must be clever!” Fiona managed a tremulous smile. “I’m doing well at school, too. Aren’t I, Mum?” she asked Stella, who sat there the very picture of resignation.
“Top of the class,” Stella tried to smile back, her eyes red-rimmed.
“Mum’s been the best mum in the world!” Fiona proclaimed loyally. “She’s done everything for me.”
“I know, and I couldn’t be more grateful,” Sarah said. “Stella and I have opened our hearts to each other. We’re going to become good friends.”
“Oh, I’d like that!” said Fiona, then without apparent thought, laid her head on Sarah’s breast.
It was almost as if she remembered.
THAT SAME NIGHT Sarah and Kyall lay naked in each other’s arms, their bodies trembling, breathless in the aftermath of lovemaking so intense, so passionate, so charged, Sarah could recall vividly that night under the brilliantly blossoming desert stars when their daughter had been conceived. They had achieved perfection in their adult sex life, but on this night there was a return to the heart-stopping “unknown,” when two lovers first come together. One half of their lovemaking was given over to the past, with its unearthly quality; the other brought into play the fullness of maturity as neither held back from expressing their desires.
Afterward, they didn’t withdraw from each other but kissed tenderly, whispering endearments.
She was his. He was hers. And they’d both finally found their daughter.
ON THIS DAY OF DAYS, her wedding day, Sarah stood for a moment staring into the tall pier mirror. She was quite alone. Enid, who’d gained a new lease on life, had retired flushed and excited, telling Sarah she looked “as radiant as an angel!”
Sarah wasn’t wearing the traditional bridal regalia—her maid of honor had just turned sixteen—but her dress was exquisite. The palest shade of lustrous gold, reaching almost to her ankles, a lovely combination of silk chiffon, ribbons and lace with the shimmer of tiny sequins and crystals for decoration. On her feet she wore beautiful high-heeled gold sandals. On her head, atop her flowing hair, because that was the way Kyall liked it, a simple garland of yellow and cream roses to match the small bouquet she was to hold. Suspended around her throat from a golden chain was Kyall’s gift to her, a diamond heart like a sun-burst surmounted by a diamond lover’s knot.
I have never, but never, looked like this before, Sarah thought, studying her image. It was perfectly true. A bride did look wonderful on her wedding day.
Sarah turned as she heard a knock at the door. “Come in, it’s open.”
As she hoped, it was Fiona, enchanting in a beautiful cream dress, silk chiffon, like Sarah’s, with a perfect floating skirt. Her pre-Raphaelite hair was caught to one side by two lovely fragrant cream roses. Sarah could smell their perfume from across the room.
“Oh, Sarah, how heavenly you look!” she declared rapturously. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.”
“Well, I have,” Sarah said, thinking she’d never get over the miracle of her daughter. “I’m looking at her right now.”
Fiona smiled but shook her head. “I’m so happy I feel like I’m dreaming. I wish Stella and Alan could’ve come.”
“They thought it was our day, darling. There’ll be plenty of other times.”
“Why do I feel so different?” Fiona asked in some wonderment, coming to stand beside Sarah. “I thought I’d have such a hard time adjusting to my new life, but I feel like I’ve always known this place. Isn’t that strange?” She slipped her arm around Sarah’s waist, smiling in pleasure at their reflections. “I even feel guilty about enjoying myself when I’m not with Stella and Alan anymore. I miss them, of course I miss them, I love them so much, but—”
“You’ve found your true home, Fiona. Your real parents. And the grandparents you’ve never known. No need to feel guilty. Stella and Alan will always be in your life. That’s the way your father and I want it, my rose.”
Fiona beamed at her. “Oh, say that again!” she begged. “It sounds lovely. My rose.”
“You are like a flower.” Sarah was savoring all the maternal love in her heart. “I’d already named you before you were born. Rosalind, after my grandmother. She was the warmest, kindest person. My own mother, her daughter, was a lot like that. I wish both of them had lived to see you.”
“They’d recognize me, wouldn’t they?” Fiona asked quietly.
“Yes,” Sarah whispered, knowing she couldn’t surrender to tears.
“Mother,” Fiona said, trying out the word on her tongue. Compulsively she took Sarah’s hand. “I’d better start calling you that, I guess.” Her great velvety eyes sought Sarah’s.
Sarah bent and kissed her. “There’s no word that would sound sweeter to my ears.”
EPILOGUE
THE WEDDING WAS at three o’clock in the homestead’s beautiful old ballroom, which had been turned into a splendid chapel. Masses and masses of flowers had been flown in. A fantasy of ivory-white orchids, luscious peonies as exquisite as any the Chinese emperors of old h
ad exchanged for dowries, magnificent cream delphiniums, double-cream lisianthus, glorious perfumed pink, white and cream roses, frosted lilies all intermingled with the flowing branches of white-flowering shrubs.
It was all too wonderful, swelling the heart and bringing tears to the eyes at the same time, Harriet thought. She gazed about her with the greatest satisfaction. She might have orchestrated all this, so proud did she feel. Her dear Sarah and Kyall were to be married at last in the presence of the extended McQueen family and the happy couple’s many friends. Guests had traveled from all over, she’d been told. They filled the huge room to capacity. Seated in a finely wrought chair, decorated lavishly with cream and gold ribbons, Harriet smiled to herself. What she’d hoped and prayed for was about to happen. She turned to the well-dressed gentleman seated beside her, gently tapping his knee.
“This was destined, you know, Morris.”
“I believe it.” Morris Hughes smiled back at her with great serenity. Kyall wasn’t the only one to have his heart conquered, he thought.
The stately music began. The bridesmaids, four in all, began to move up the carpeted aisle between the long rows of decorated gold chairs. Lovely girls! Harriet gazed at them with pleasure. They all wore cream, ankle-length chiffon dresses, but each dress featured a different design in seed pearls, beads and sequins. Lovely as the bridesmaids were, though, Fiona eclipsed them. She was beyond any question Sarah’s child. Harriet knew a momentary sadness as she looked at her. The image of her mother. She’d have recognized Fiona anywhere in the world. The girl was radiant, perfectly at home in Wunnamurra’s ballroom. Fiona, the miracle child. After the town’s initial shock had subsided, Fiona had been accepted into everyone’s heart. Why not? They’d known that face all along.
There was a sudden hush as the bride moved gracefully down the aisle on the arm of her soon-to-be father-in-law. Max had never looked better, Harriet thought. But Sarah stole everyone’s breath away. She dazzled as an angel might dazzle, casting her smile all around her as if to say, “This is heaven!”
I’ll always remember this day. Harriet blinked tears from her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to smear her mascara.
At last Sarah reached her rightful place by her handsome groom’s side. Harriet’s tears began again as she witnessed the expression on Kyall’s face. His soul shone out of those sapphire-blue eyes.
“God bless you both, always,” Harriet whispered beneath her breath, catching Morris’s answering, “Amen!”
The bishop, who had not risen to that eminence when he’d christened Kyall years ago, began the traditional words. It was at this point that Harriet slipped her slightly trembling hand into Morris’s, charmed and gratified when he held it tenderly and firmly. Oh, my goodness! she thought. I feel like a girl again.
Solemn minutes passed and then the ceremony was over. Everyone turned to smile at the guests beside and behind them, their hearts opened to the grace that flowed in.
Under the benign eye of the bishop, Kyall took his wife in his arms to bestow upon her the ceremonial kiss.
“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered as he sought her lovely mouth.
“I love you, my husband.”
“Goodness, how perfectly beautiful!” exclaimed Harriet, her normally confident, self-assured voice surprisingly shaky. “Small wonder people believe love conquers all. It truly does!”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8222-7
SARAH’S BABY
Copyright © 2003 by Margaret Way, Pty., Ltd.
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