Miracle in Bellaroo Creek (Bellaroo Creek!)

by Hannay, Barbara

  But how could she sleep now? she wondered as she trudged back upstairs. In a few short hours, Ed had swept back into her life and he’d completely stolen her heart. But he’d left her mind whirling with a thousand thoughts and questions.

  She’d been a fool to start kissing him and more or less lure him into her bed before she’d asked all her questions. If only she’d heard his impossible story first.

  The idea of Ed Cavanaugh walking away from his family business was incredible. The thought of him leaving New York was impossible.

  And now she felt guilty and worried that she’d unwittingly lured him here. Had she somehow given him the wrong signals?

  Or were they, miraculously, the right signals?

  Her mind was whirling with fatigue and nervous exhaustion as she tried to sort out the bare facts.

  Ed was attracted to her, certainly. No doubt about that. And he’d amazed her this morning with his help in the bakery.

  But what was one morning? One night?

  She was planning to put down roots here. She would be working in the bakery day after day, week after week, and Ed’s interest could be nothing more than temporary at best.

  And yet, knowing this, Milla had helplessly fallen in love with him. Even now, she felt swoony and breathless whenever she thought about his lovemaking. But how could she have made such a foolish mistake?

  Arrgh. She had no chance of going to sleep.

  * * *

  The alarm sounded at three a.m.

  Milla dragged herself out of bed and didn’t allow herself to think about the hours of sleep she’d missed. She dressed quickly, pulled her hair into a scrunchie, splashed her face with cold water and hurried downstairs.

  Just as she had yesterday, she flicked on the lights and filled the kettle, and like yesterday there was a knock at the door.

  Her stomach flipped. She hadn’t really expected Ed to turn up so early.

  When she opened the door and saw him standing there, tall, dark and hunky, eyes holding a cautious smile, she felt her heart twist as if he’d skewered it.

  ‘Top o’ the morning,’ he said and his breath made a puff of white cloud in the frosty air.

  He smiled at her, smiled with his eyes, as if he was asking her to trust him.

  I want to, Ed. So much.

  She let him in and closed the door quickly. ‘I hope you’ve caught up on your jet lag,’ she said.

  ‘I feel fine,’ he answered quickly. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she lied, suspecting that he’d lied, too. There were shadows beneath his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.

  ‘So, is it the same routine today?’ he asked as they made their respective mugs of tea and coffee again, and Milla collected yeast and water.

  ‘That’s right.’ She felt an urge to touch him, to give him a tiny sign of hope, but she made herself be sensible. ‘You can put in two bags of flour whenever you’re ready, thanks.’

  At least, her spirits lifted once again as the ingredients began to mix. She was determined to enjoy this second day, despite her tiredness, despite her nagging worry that Ed was about to shatter her heart.

  She knew she loved him, and she suspected that Ed believed he loved her, but she couldn’t take off and spend her life with him. She was committed to this place now and she really wanted to make it work. The alternative option of Ed Cavanaugh settling down in the Bellaroo Bakery was positively ludicrous.

  An overwhelming attraction wasn’t enough to bridge the huge gap between their lifestyles and allegiances. Even love wasn’t enough. Last night Milla had been round and round this problem, rolling and pummelling it like kneaded dough, but this morning she knew there was no solution.

  In a way, she was grateful for the hard work ahead of her today. She had to give one hundred per cent concentration to every task, couldn’t afford a single mistake. Each loaf and bun and pie had to be perfect.

  One thing she couldn’t deny—Ed really stepped up to the plate. As an assistant on his second day, he couldn’t be faulted. He was a quick learner, of course, and his aim was to lighten her load. Which he did in a thousand and one small ways.

  * * *

  ‘I reckon you could easily sell at least another dozen bread loaves,’ decided Carol, who’d been working in the shopfront, and had made a list for Milla, which she presented at the end of the day.

  ‘White and grainy are the most popular,’ she said. ‘And pies. By crikey, those Main Roads guys bought up almost all your pies in one hit.’

  ‘What about the sweet things?’ Milla asked.

  ‘Well, we have six advance orders for cherry lattice pies for the weekend already.’

  Milla laughed. ‘I can see what I’ll be doing on Saturday mornings from now on.’

  ‘You’re going to need to train an apprentice,’ suggested Ed.

  She nodded tiredly. ‘One step at a time.’ She rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to ease a nagging headache.

  ‘You should put your feet up. It’s my turn to shout dinner,’ he said.

  ‘That’d be nice, but I think I should go for a run again. The fresh air will clear the cobwebs.’ And with luck it will tire me out completely.

  ‘I’ll join you.’

  That wasn’t what she’d planned and she almost protested. All day she’d been super-aware of Ed. Every glance, each exchange, every time they touched, even an accidental connection like bumping elbows, she’d felt a flash of heat, a clutch of longing.

  She’d hoped to gain a little clarity and distance on this run. But after the big day Ed had put in to help her, she couldn’t reject his company now, especially when she knew he was used to attending the gym and going for regular runs.

  ‘That’d be great,’ she said. ‘See you in ten.’ And she went upstairs to change into a tracksuit and joggers.

  * * *

  At least the rain had stopped, but it was a cold grey dusk with no sign of a sunset as they set off, running down a dirt road and dodging puddles.

  Ed matched his stride to Milla’s and they jogged side by side along the empty road, past wheat fields and paddocks of sheep where kangaroos grazed in the shadowy verges. When the road dipped to cross a creek, they found stepping stones, then picked up their pace and ran on.

  Apart from the thudding of their footsteps, the only sound was the keening cry of a lone falcon circling high above them, floating on the wind.

  It was almost dark when Ed saw the sign on the edge of the road. Milla had been pushing herself to keep up with him and she was quietly relieved when he slowed down.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘I’d like to check this out.’

  ‘You planning to buy a farm, Ed?’ she joked as she stood beside him, hands on hips, panting slightly.

  ‘Just curious.’

  ‘This is the Johnsons’ place.’

  ‘You know it?’

  Milla nodded. ‘As far as I remember, it was a good farm. A mix of sheep and wheat. Lovely homestead.’

  He turned to her with a smile. ‘I saw the house up on the rise back there. Lots of trees.’ There was a silvery flash of excitement in his grey eyes.

  ‘But you’re not looking at property, are you?’ Milla was suddenly uncertain again.

  Instead of answering her, Ed just stood there, staring at the sign.

  ‘Ed, what’s this about? Why are you suddenly interested in a farm?’

  ‘I’d like to take a closer look,’ he said. ‘You know me, always on the lookout for a good investment.’ But he said this with a shrug, as if he was trying to make light of it.

  She was definitely uneasy now. ‘You’re not thinking of buying it?’ The possibility made her head spin.

  ‘Don’t look so worried.’

  But she was worried. Worrie
d that Ed was getting carried away. Worried that he was acting completely out of character and rushing headlong into disaster.

  ‘We should be heading back,’ she said. ‘It’s almost dark.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he agreed, but with clear reluctance. ‘We can talk about the farm when we get back.’

  Milla worried the whole way back to town.

  * * *

  She deliberately ‘dressed down’ for dinner, choosing an unromantic turtle-neck black sweater and jeans. It was time for another round of straight shooting with Ed. She couldn’t afford another night of emotional turmoil.

  She’d agreed to meet him in the pub’s dining room, so she was surprised when she found him waiting on her doorstep. Again.

  ‘Slight change of plans.’ He gave her a jagged smile as he held out a metal container. ‘Hope you don’t mind, but I talked the chef into giving me a takeout dinner. Thought we could use a little privacy.’

  Privacy...

  Milla was slugged by equal jolts of delight and dismay. Privacy with Ed could be fabulous, but also dangerous. At least she was on guard tonight, and she knew she had to seize this chance to set the record straight with him.

  ‘So what are we eating?’ she asked as she led him back inside.

  ‘Salt and pepper calamari and Chinese greens.’

  ‘Yum. Good choice. I’ve just realised how hungry I am.’

  She found plates and cutlery and set them on the bench, while Ed grabbed a serving spoon and ladled out generous helpings. The cat came meowing around their legs.

  ‘There might be leftovers if you’re lucky,’ Ed told Blue, who settled to purr sleepily at their feet.

  Milla tried not to think about how cosy and familiar and downright pleasant this dining arrangement was. And she also tried to ignore how attractive Ed looked, showered and shaved, sitting opposite her in a dark V-necked cashmere sweater over a blue and white striped, collared shirt. She had to ignore the enticing whiffs of his aftershave, too, had to forget how positively blissful he’d been in bed.

  It was time to focus on setting him straight.

  Perhaps he sensed this. He was more subdued as they started eating, and Milla didn’t want to spoil their digestion, so she kept their conversation light and easy while they ate, filling Ed in with news about Heidi and Brad and their children, about her parents, about the Joneses in the general store and how helpful they’d been.

  But eventually they finished eating and Ed collected their plates and took them over to the sink. Then he came back and sat on a stool, choosing the one beside Milla rather than opposite.

  He was smiling, but the smile was a little grim around the edges, and he zeroed straight in on the topic they’d been avoiding all day.

  ‘We’ve got to talk about us, haven’t we?’

  ‘We have,’ Milla said softly as tension tightened knots in her stomach. ‘I must admit, I’m still very confused about why you’re here.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he said quietly. ‘I know exactly why I’m here.’

  Her heart drummed hard.

  ‘It’s simple,’ Ed said and the look in his eyes was both tender and fierce. ‘I want you.’

  Those three words I want you speared deep inside her, stirring a longing so deep and painful she almost wept. I want you, too.

  But how was it possible?

  ‘Any terms,’ Ed went on. ‘Any conditions. You on your native soil. Wherever you want to be, I want to be there with you, Milla.’

  Tears filled her eyes. She felt thrilled and scared at once. Ed was reaching for the impossible, trying to make it sound workable.

  ‘I was planning to court you,’ he said. ‘You know...the unrushed, old-fashioned, patient style of courting.’

  She managed to smile at this. ‘Isn’t that supposed to happen before you rush a girl into bed?’

  ‘That’s the general advice.’ Reaching for her hand, he looked down at it as he cradled it in his large palm. ‘The thing is, Milla, I’m not just crazy in love with you. You’ve taught me things.’

  She knew she looked surprised. She couldn’t imagine what he meant.

  ‘When I was here before,’ he said. ‘You talked about self-worth and you set me thinking. I’ve asked myself what I needed to change, if I wanted to be someone I really liked. If I wanted to do something that felt right. Felt good. Worthwhile. And every time the answer was the same.’

  ‘And it had nothing to do with being CEO of Cavanaugh Enterprises,’ Milla guessed.

  ‘Damn right.’

  She was remembering now how Ed’s eyes had shone when he’d talked about his grandparents in Michigan. She remembered finding the shaving brush that he’d almost left behind on his last visit.

  I’ve kept it as a kind of reminder of the old guy. I—I guess I wanted to be like him.

  At the time she’d told him: You might be more like him than you realise.

  ‘So, is this the real Ed Cavanaugh?’ she asked softly.

  ‘I think it must be.’ Ed gave a shaky laugh. ‘We can make it work. I know it.’

  The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. It filled her with golden light. With sudden glorious courage. ‘I believe you.’

  She did. At last, amazingly, she truly did believe.

  ‘The main thing is I love you, Milla. I’m hoping against hope that you might love me. I—I know we Cavanaughs have—’

  ‘Shh.’ Milla slipped from her stool and took both his hands in hers. ‘Let’s not talk about Cavanaugh history tonight.’

  Ed had gone out of his way to prove his love for her through word and deed, and now she lifted his hands to her lips and kissed his fingers.

  Looking up, she smiled bravely, confidently into his eyes. ‘I love you too, Ed. I’ve been scared to admit it, but I know that’s crazy considering that I actually fell for you on the first night we met.’

  Feeling light-hearted with happiness and certainty now, she slipped her arms around his neck. ‘I—I adore everything about you, you gorgeous man. How you look, how you move, how you think, how you kiss. And now you’ve gone out of your way to help me, and—’

  She didn’t quite get to the end of her soliloquy. Ed cut off her words with the most beautiful of kisses, on her lips, on her chin, her neck...

  And they didn’t finish that particular conversation for a very long time.

  By then, their clothes were scattered on the floor and they were curled close in bed, and, having just made love again, they were exceptionally happy and sleepy.

  ‘You realise we now have a second chance to get this right,’ Ed said softly.

  ‘Yes.’ Milla nestled, deep and warm into the cay of his shoulder. ‘This is how we were meant to be.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you go a second time.’

  Milla smiled up at him. ‘I’m so glad you’re persistent.’

  After a bit, she said sleepily, ‘I’m still worried that you haven’t thought the bakery part through, though. I can’t believe you’ll want to work in a bakery for ever.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he admitted. ‘That’s why I’ve checked out the Johnsons’ farm.’

  ‘Already?’

  He dropped a kiss on her frowning forehead. ‘When I went back to the hotel, I stole a quick look on the Internet. The farm has nine dams and a creek, eleven well-fenced paddocks, a machinery shed, three silos...’

  Milla tried, unsuccessfully, to hold onto her frown, but a smile broke through. ‘And what would you grow in these eleven well-fenced paddocks?’

  ‘Sheep. Organic wheat. Heirloom varieties.’

  ‘So I could bake it?’

  Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. ‘I thought we could employ an artisan baker.’

  ‘But I’ve only just started.’

&nbs
p; ‘Well, we’re certainly going to need another baker when we start our family.’

  She’d been on the brink of a yawn, but now her sleepiness vanished in a flash of excitement. ‘You want a family?’

  ‘We have to help fill the Bellaroo Creek school, don’t we?’ Ed drew her into his arms again. ‘Isn’t it our mission to rescue this town?’

  ‘I knew there was another reason why I loved you.’

  EPILOGUE

  MILLA SAT ON the edge of the hospital bed, dressed and ready to leave. She was too excited to bother about morning tea. She just wanted to gaze and gaze at the sweet precious bundle in her arms.

  Her baby’s name was Katie Margaret, named after Ed’s paternal grandmother and Milla’s mum. She had dark hair like her daddy’s and the cutest, neat little nose and ears and the daintiest mouth and hands and feet.

  Perfection, in other words, from head to toe.

  And now, the little girl yawned and stretched. Just like Ed, Milla thought with a happy grin.

  Right on cue, her husband appeared in the doorway. ‘How are my bride and my firstborn?’ he asked, striding into the room proud as punch.

  ‘Ready and raring to go.’ Milla flushed with happiness as he came in and kissed her. Ed was still the best-looking guy she’d ever met.

  ‘Has Katie grown while I’ve been away?’ He leaned down to make cooing noises at his daughter.

  ‘I’m sure she’s definitely grown cuter and brighter overnight.’

  ‘Spoken like a very proud mom.’

  But now, Ed’s grey eyes searched Milla’s face, as if he wanted to make sure she really was OK. He’d been a little shaken by the whole business of birthing and he seemed to find it hard to believe she’d bounced back so quickly.

  ‘How’s everything at the bakery?’ she asked to divert him.

  ‘Absolutely fine. Cooper’s managing brilliantly.’

  Cooper Jackson, a former shearer’s cook, had taken to baking like the proverbial duck to water. Training him had been Milla’s latest project. And she and Ed had also sponsored him to have extra experience at an organic bakery in Tasmania. Now he was living in the rooms above their shop and running the show.