by Trish Wylie
‘I think he knew he was leaving it to you for a long time. In fact—’ inhaling, he stood up again, glancing briefly at her before he started sorting through the stones in his hand ‘—I’m pretty sure he knew when he offered to sell me the estate.’
Rhiannon stepped closer, watching as he selected one of the stones and stepped back on to one foot, swinging his arm out in an arc to throw the stone so that it skipped over the water’s surface—once, twice, three times before it sank.
And he grinned across at her like a small boy. ‘I was hoping I hadn’t forgotten how to do that.’
Her heart caught.
‘You have no idea how much you remind me of Lizzie when you smile like that.’ Her eyes widened in surprise at the confession. They just seemed to constantly roll off the end of her tongue these days, didn’t they?
But Kane merely continued grinning. ‘Yeah.’ He leaned back to toss another stone over the water. ‘She’s good-looking too.’
Rhiannon shook her head. Who was this man? Every day she was more and more enraptured by the different facets of his personality. And every day he would do or say something that knocked her off balance. She should have been mad about that, especially after the kiss that had still lingered on her lips hours after the event. But it was difficult to stay mad when he was like this—so charming, so good-looking, so damn irresistible.
‘Well, thankfully she has me to keep her ego from growing to continental proportions.’ She refocused on the topic of their conversation. ‘What makes you so sure Mattie had planned that far ahead?’
Kane tossed the stones he had left in his hand up and down a couple of times, taking a breath of crisp air before he shrugged the shoulders beneath his heavy down-lined jacket. ‘I think he knew for a long time that he was fighting a battle he’d lose. He fought for a lot longer than I had to with mine and I think he was resigned to just buying as much time as he could. But it gave him time to think about things and to make plans. It’s the kind of guy he was. He thought about the people he cared about, and what would happen to them when he wasn’t here any more.’
Rhiannon immediately wondered if Kane had had to make those kinds of plans once—had thought about not being here any more—about his own death. How must that have felt at so young an age to someone so very alive?
And who had he talked to? For a man like him to confess any kind of weakness would have cost dearly, wouldn’t it? When going away and facing his illness, fighting it, coming out the other side, had taken more bravery than she could even begin to respect him enough for having.
Her heart twisted painfully at another thought. How would she have felt if something had happened to him? No one would probably have thought she should know, except maybe Mattie. Yes, Mattie would have made sure she didn’t read it in a paper somewhere. But it would have hurt. She knew that. It would have hurt so very much, maybe even worse than losing Mattie had.
But it wouldn’t have hurt anywhere near as much as it would if anything happened to Kane now…
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a thoughtful expression on his ruggedly handsome face. ‘Do you know how to skim stones?’
‘What?’ She shook her head, laughing a little to cover the dark thoughts that still hovered in her mind—troubled, confused thoughts that forced her to concentrate twice as hard to keep up with their conversation without giving anything away.
He leaned down and selected a larger handful of stones. ‘They need to be fairly round, and as flat as possible or they don’t bounce.’
‘You’re insane. I don’t suppose you happen to know where Kane Healey went to? Big guy, pretty grumpy most of the time, prone to starting a topic of conversation and then gets easily sidetracked by children’s games…’
She watched in amused amazement as he stepped closer, reaching out to tug at her elbow with his empty hand so that she was forced to pull her hand out of her pocket while he beckoned with his fingers.
‘Give me your hand.’
‘I can’t do what you just did.’
‘Don’t be a girl.’
Even while his warm fingers curled beneath her hand so he could place a stone in her palm, she was looking up at his profile with raised eyebrows.
And he smiled again in response, his cheeks creasing into a hint of dimples as he glanced at her face and then down at her hand. ‘All right then, try being less of a girl.’
The mischievous imp reappeared on her shoulder and forced her to bat her eyelashes frantically at him.
Still smiling, he moved round behind her, concentrating his focus on her hand as he moved her fingers into position. ‘Curl your forefinger around the top, thumb round the bottom and then, when you throw, you flick your wrist back and, as you flick forwards, you let go. Try to keep it as flat as you can along the surface of the water and it’ll skip.’
His hand still supporting hers, his gaze rose, and Rhiannon had to lean her head back further to lock eyes with him. It was disconcerting as all hell having him this close again, it really was. How was a girl supposed to do anything but stare?
The breeze caught his hair and ruffled it, his thick lashes brushed against the faint tinge of red the chilled air had created on his cheeks and his bluer than blue eyes warmed her as he continued softly smiling. And, just as it had done since the first day she had met him, Rhiannon’s heart thundered against her breast and her nerve-endings tingled from head to toe in response. She even had to consciously stop herself from turning around and stepping in against him, tilting her head back in invitation, to…
She swallowed hard. ‘All right, but just so you know, it’ll sink like…’ she grinned as the words formed in her head ‘…well, it’ll sink like a stone, obviously. But it’ll sink. Trust me.’
‘We’ll practise a couple of times.’ He blinked down at her, then lifted his gaze and looked out over the greyish blue of the water. ‘And once you have it mastered, you can come down here and skim stones with Lizzie when I’m not here.’
Rhiannon swiftly turned her face away, her heart still thudding hard, but now accompanied by a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. She knew he would leave, had known all along—this time round. And at least this time when he left they’d be on friendly enough terms to be able to arrange visits for Lizzie and times when he could come back down to Brookfield. And she would be able to hold a conversation with him. It was all good, right?
Hand still on hers, he guided her arm out in an arc to her side. ‘Put your weight back on to one foot and then, as you swing your arm, move your weight on to your front foot before you let go of the stone.’
She let him guide her movements in a couple of practice sways, his large body cushioning hers, aware that the simple act of throwing a stone across the water had somehow morphed into a seductive dance movement.
‘Now have a go.’ He stepped back before she threw and watched in silence as the stone sank without as much as a hint of a bounce.
With a brief glance over her shoulder, she blew her cheeks out and announced smugly, ‘I told you so.’
With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he stepped round her again, lifting her hand to tip the remainder of the stones into her palm. ‘Keep practising; you’ll get it.’
Gathering more stones from the ground while she watched, he then stood beside her and tossed another one on to the water—skip, skip, sink.
‘So, anyway…’ he watched her make another failed attempt at skimming a stone ‘…I think Mattie knew when he sold me the estate that one day you would own the house. It was his way of forcing us into a locked room so we’d have to talk.’
Rhiannon stopped mid-swing. ‘What?’
‘Yep.’ His voice stayed calm as he swung again—skip, skip, skip, sink. ‘He knew the estate and the house needed each other to survive, and he made quite sure I couldn’t sell one without the other. I doubt he was even as badly off financially as he claimed to be. We were manipulated into dealing with all of this.’
Rhiannon could
n’t believe what she was hearing, but in a heartbeat it suddenly made absolute sense. ‘Why, that wily—’
‘Exactly.’ Kane stunned her by continuing to smile as he tossed another stone—skip, skip, skip, sink. ‘He knew how stubborn we both were. And he knew we’d both built a firm set of misconceptions about each other—’
‘So he decided to try and find a way to fix it?’
He stood still, his focus on the horizon as he nodded. ‘Yes, I think so. I’ve only just figured it out now, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he did. I remember he said a lot of things about the house and the estate having to work together, about partnerships and how a history like that can tie people together, grounding them. And I listened, but I don’t think I really understood what he was saying, until now.’
Mesmerized by the familiar deep rumble of his voice, laced as it was in that moment with a warm edge of nostalgia, it took a moment for her to realize that he was looking at her again. When she did, her gaze rose slowly, locking with his as she felt a sense of inevitability sweeping over her.
‘You see this place as your legacy for Lizzie, don’t you—something that’ll be here long after you’re gone?’
Rhiannon nodded silently, deeply touched in a way she couldn’t even begin to quantify.
‘Well, I want my part of her legacy to be the estate. The way it should be—the two working together to survive in the future. Half of it yours to pass on and half of it mine.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ Somehow she managed to choke the words out through her thickening throat.
He shook his head, his gaze steady and determined. ‘Yes, I do. And I want to.’
Rhiannon remained frozen to the same spot as he stepped closer, his voice huskier, filled with emotion as he told her in the same steady, determined tone, with his gaze locked on hers, ‘I love her, Mac, I do. Whether it’s too soon to feel something that strong or not, it’s there. My world now revolves around her.’
Just as she had felt the very moment she had first held her baby in her arms. ‘I know.’
‘So it’s what I want to do to provide for her future, and the rest of the stuff in between we can work out between us. I think we can do that now, can’t we?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded to emphasize the word that came out on so low a tone that it was almost a whisper, her eyes filling as she looked at him. Because there was a huge bubble of emotion filling her chest while she did and she just couldn’t stop it from spilling over. It had formed the moment he’d said he loved Lizzie. The only child he believed he might ever have.
‘I want to tell her now, if that’s all right with you. I don’t think there’s any need to wait any more.’
He nodded, still staring at her with his intense blue-eyed gaze as he moved another step closer, stopping a few inches away from her body.
‘Yes, it’s time—maybe after dinner? Then she can ask us both any questions she has and we can talk her through it together.’
Together. Rhiannon nodded, still frozen to the spot.
He cleared his throat. ‘Do you know what you’ll say yet?’
She laughed nervously, lifting a hand to swipe at the lone tear she felt streaking down her cheek. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I’m hoping I’ll find the right ones when I sit her down. It’s not easy explaining to your own child that you’re not infallible when you’ve allowed them to believe you are.’
Without hesitation a large hand rose to her face, where he spread his fingers, snaking them back into the base of her pony-tail while his thumb brushed along the fine line of her jaw until it rested at the edge of her mouth. Then he leaned his face down closer to hers, studying each of her eyes in turn.
‘Mac, you’ve done everything to take care of her every step of the way. And you’ve done one hell of a job. Whatever you say will be just fine.’
The use of the old endearment hit her again. He’d used it in the stable that day too, hadn’t he? How had she missed that? Accompanied by his softly spoken vote of confidence in her when she needed to hear it the most, it was almost too much. And she could feel the wall she’d erected around her heart so many years ago crumbling.
If she could go back in time, she would never have held this man from his child. Why would she? He was amazing. Any child would be lucky to have him as their father. Her own anger, pain, fear, confusion and eventual resentment had held them apart. How could he ever forgive her for that?
As if he could read her thoughts, a small frown appeared between his eyes, the blue deepened, his gaze dropped to her mouth. And, somewhere in the distance, Rhiannon heard stones dropping to the ground.
Then his other hand was on her face, fingers snaking into her hair, thumb moving to rest against her mouth; so that he held her head cradled in his palms with infinite tenderness.
Rhiannon sighed shakily, her eyelids growing heavy.
‘Mum?’
Kane stepped back from her as if burned, and they both turned to look at Lizzie’s curious expression.
‘What are you doing?’ She smiled impishly—she had a fairly vivid idea already of what they were doing.
‘I’m teaching your mum to skim stones and she was having a crisis of confidence because she can’t do it.’ Kane cleared his throat. ‘You want to learn?’
‘Oooh, yes, I do!’
He retrieved the stones from the ground before she got there, glancing over her head at Rhiannon as he started to repeat the instructions.
And Rhiannon stared back at him, desperate to know if he regretted almost kissing her again—if it had merely been a reflection of the intense emotions they both felt talking about their daughter and her future, or if it had been because he knew how much her feelings for him had changed.
Instead she watched as Lizzie made her first attempt at skimming the stone, her small arm swinging back, the stone flying through the air—skip, sink.
First time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE decision to tell Lizzie was taken out of their hands by an unexpected arrival when they returned to the house.
Rhiannon had never set eyes on her before, but the warmly smiling woman soon apologized for ‘popping by’ unannounced and introduced herself as the Chairperson of the annual Hunt Ball, which was normally held before Christmas at Brookfield, apparently. And over a pot of tea at the kitchen table she explained how they had postponed the Ball out of respect for Mattie’s passing. Then she announced that they’d like to reschedule, with Rhiannon’s permission, of course. At Brookfield, if it was all right with her.
In the space of an hour Rhiannon found herself agreeing to the event being held there for Valentine’s Day, as it was a century-old tradition, and with Kane offering to step in and sponsor it, thankfully, while Lizzie bounced up and down at the prospect of a large party and a new dress to go with it, naturally.
Rhiannon was left feeling distinctly railroaded.
But it was outside on the gravel, as they all saw the nice lady to her car, that the damage was done.
‘Thank you so much, dear. I know the committee will be over the moon with the news.’ She beamed at Rhiannon, looked at Kane with an admiring glance and then patted Lizzie’s head. ‘And you are an absolute darling. I can’t wait to see you in your new dress.’
‘Me either!’ Lizzie grinned up at her.
‘She really is just beautiful.’ The woman’s eyes skimmed up to Kane’s face again. ‘And you look just like your daddy too, don’t you?’
Rhiannon gasped. Oh, no. She had not just said that!
Lizzie looked over her shoulder and up at Kane, who stared down at her with the same stunned expression Rhiannon knew had to be written all over her own face.
The cheery voice continued. ‘Oh, yes, she really is the image of you, there’s no denying it. She has your eyes and your hair colour, doesn’t she?’
Kane swallowed hard, his helpless gaze flickering to Rhiannon’s before they both watched Lizzie turn round and start to slowly work it out.
> ‘Well, I’ll be in touch soon.’ She pulled open her car door and ran the window down to wave. ‘Lovely family. Super to meet you at last. Cheerio!’
Lizzie stood with her head tilted to one side, a frown creasing her forehead as she continued to study Kane’s face. And it was only the edge to Kane’s voice that drew Rhiannon out of her horrified silence.
‘We need to go inside.’
‘Yes, we do.’ She stepped over to Lizzie and smoothed a hand over her hair. ‘Come on, baby. We’ll all go into the sitting room and we can have a talk.’
Lizzie silently studied Kane as she walked past him, while her mother grasped her father’s hand, tangling their fingers together and squeezing.
He looked down at her as she whispered, ‘I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t have happened like this.’
His longer fingers wrapped tighter around hers. ‘It’s not your fault. We’ll talk to her together, okay?’
Rhiannon nodded. Because there really wasn’t much else to say, was there?
In the sitting room Kane released her hand and walked over to Lizzie, setting his large hand on her shoulder to guide her around the sofa, where he sat down and obviously assumed she’d sit with him.
But, before Rhiannon’s wide eyes, she stood in front of Kane and reached her small hands up to frame his face, leaning in closer to stare at his eyes close up. She tilted her head, one chocolate-brown braid swinging over her shoulder.
‘You have blue eyes, like me.’
Rhiannon pursed her lips tightly together, her heart twisting, tears filling her eyes as Kane nodded, his voice husky and filled with immeasurable gentleness.
‘Yes, I do.’
Lizzie lifted a hand and caught a lock of his short hair between her fingers, studying it carefully before she looked down at the swinging braid, then back into his eyes. ‘And brown hair, like me.’
‘Yes.’
Rhiannon stepped closer, her hand smoothing over Lizzie’s hair again as she bent down. ‘Not quite, baby.’