* * * *
That night, after finishing the washing up following one of Molly's wonderful dinners, Ryan reached for her, his hands around her waist. Once again Tara melted beneath his touch as he pressed himself against her.
Placing her hands against his chest, she looked into his face. “Ryan, I don't want to make love. Not yet. We need to talk."
Ryan smiled, his hands tenderly cupping her face. “Talk? What's that?” he said huskily, his eyes hungry for her. “Do you realise we've yet to make love in the kitchen?"
Tara quivered at the thought of Ryan's possession, making her feel special, making her feel wanted. She gasped as he lifted her against him, making her aware of his arousal.
"Please! This is important,” she pleaded, even as her arms crept around his neck
Ryan sighed. “Okay. So talk to me,” he said with a look of resignation.
"We had that terrible argument at work today and yet you haven't even mentioned it. It's like it never happened. And everyone is saying how bad tempered you are. No one seems to be able to do anything right for you, especially me, and it's creating a tense atmosphere.” The words came with a rush before Tara lost her courage as her heart thumped with anxiety.
Ryan released her and turned away, but Tara clutched at his arm. “Tell me what's wrong. Do you regret marrying me, is that what it is? I could understand if only you'll tell me."
"Could you?” When he turned to face her, his expression was so bitter that Tara stepped back in alarm.
"If you must know, there was a letter from Carol waiting for me when we got back. She said that she and her husband are moving to the UK, and they intend to take the kids with them."
Tara gasped in dismay. “But she can't do that!"
Ryan poured himself a glass of wine from the left over bottle they had shared at dinner. “Yes, she can if she wins the case. But there were implications in the letter that she has no intention of returning the kids on Sunday. Whether it was some sort of weird joke to wind me up, I'm not sure, but for all I know she could be planning to take them out of the country any day now."
Gripping more tightly on to his sleeve, Tara stuttered in her anxiety. “She ... she ... you must let the police know, Ryan. This ... this is against the law."
Taking pity on her distress, Ryan placed his glass on the table and drew her into his arms. “Shh, sweetheart. I've already advised my lawyer who is making sure the correct authorities know, but Carol is so irrational I'm not sure what she'll do."
"But she can't take them out of Australia without their passport clearance,” Tara said, her hands balling into fists of frustration against his chest.
"You're spot on. However, she could hide them somewhere in Australia."
Tara stared at Ryan in amazement. How could things have gone so terribly wrong to create this horrendous tug of war for two little children?
"So, my love,” Ryan continued. “I apologise if I've been like a bear with a sore head. I must admit I was annoyed with you in the surgery, but I shouldn't have spoken to you as I did."
Tara laid her head on his chest. “No, you shouldn't. Next time I'll punch you in the nose."
Ryan laughed. “It won't happen again. I have no excuse except that I have been going out of my mind thinking about Carol's letter and I won't feel comfortable until Emma and Ben are safely delivered here on Sunday."
"Oh, Ryan. I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me about the letter? I could have shared your worries."
"I don't always feel like telling you everything, Tara,” he replied bluntly. “Just like you refuse to tell me about your past and that's okay. I understand that you want to keep some things private. Well, this debacle with my kids is very personal and it hurts like hell. I find it difficult to talk about and I certainly don't feel like unloading all my troubles on to you or the others."
Tara drew away feeling hurt that he couldn't talk to her. Yet she had treated him in the same way, when he had asked about her past and if anything was troubling her.
"The other thing I should mention is a number of anonymous emails I've received in the last two days—about you."
Startled, Tara's eyes widened. “What sort of emails?"
"Pretty nasty ones actually, telling me to watch out, that I had married a slut and a whore."
CHAPTER NINE
Ryan chewed at his bottom lip as he saw the stricken look on Tara's face. As usual he was handling things badly with her. He'd been too blunt, too brutal, and had hurt and frightened her.
He stepped forward intending to reassure her, but Tara held up her hands in a defensive gesture and moved to the other side of the kitchen table.
"Don't ... don't. Give me a moment,” she whispered and his heart contracted as he watched the distress on her face.
"Tara, it's all right. They're not worth bothering about."
"Are they from Carol?"
Ryan shrugged. “I assume so, although she must have arranged for someone to do it because Carol wouldn't even know how to switch on a computer."
"Can you trace them?"
"I've tried. Whoever sent them must have done it through an internet café or similar. I can't track the address."
"Do you believe it?"
"What?"
Tara raised a trembling hand to her face as she stared at her husband with a strange look of defiance. “That I'm a whore."
Ryan did move then and, ignoring her stiff, unyielding stance, drew her against him. “Of course I don't believe it, you silly goose,” he murmured, his lips caressing her forehead. “I think it's Carol being nasty, and she's arranged for someone to send them, probably Glen. I'm going to report it to my lawyer so it certainly won't help her case."
Tara relaxed slightly, taking comfort in Ryan's arms. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, her lips pressing against the strong column of his throat. “I shouldn't have married you. I'm making matters worse. Perhaps Carol still loves you and is jealous?"
Ryan gave a bittersweet smile as he gazed down at her. “Carol never loved me but she could be jealous just through sheer bloody mindedness. She is probably sending emails and writing letters to rattle us so I'll give in regarding the kids. What she doesn't realise is that she's creating more problems for herself than me. This harassment isn't going to look good in court."
Tara placed her arms around Ryan's neck as she looked steadily into his dark eyes. “I know this is a terrible time for you Ryan, but I hate it when we argue. I will help you in every way I can, but please don't close me out."
Ryan's expression was exquisitely tender as he kissed her soft mouth. “It's a deal,” he murmured against her lips. “I'll apologise to the others tomorrow for being such a grouch, but I'm not always the sweetest tempered guy when I'm working. They should be used to that by now."
Tara wagged her finger at him. “Yes, but you were particularly bad today,” she said, smiling at his look of pretend innocence.
"I'll make it up to you if you'll let me.” His kiss was a promise of the passion to come.
* * * *
The next morning, true to his word, Ryan apologised to his staff, who were instantly forgiving and sympathetic. Work progressed as normal although Tara had now taken on the responsibility of regularly visiting Thelma West. She found that the old lady could be rude and cranky, but underneath Tara recognised the pride that Thelma had to swallow to accept the help she needed. Underneath that grumpy arrogance, she could see the generous heart of gold that so many of the High Country people seemed loath to show.
Over the next two days, Tara visited a number of her patients. Thankfully most of them lived in or close to the town. Ryan had expressed his concern when he realised she was driving out to visit Harry and Edna Norman, but Tara insisted, saying that was her job. Besides, the weather, although cold and with snow on the ground, remained fine with sunshine and blue skies.
On Saturday Ryan was on call and was away for a good part of the day attending an accident at one of the ski resorts where a young w
oman tourist had fallen and broken her leg. Tara used the time to give the house an extra clean and sparkle. She went to the toyshop in the town and bought a Barbie doll that she knew Emma had coveted for a long time. For Ben, she couldn't resist a cuddly koala even though he had many soft toys. After making up their beds, she lovingly placed the wrapped presents on the pillows ready for when they came home the next day.
At last Sunday arrived and Ryan paced the floor of the living room like a caged tiger. He knew Carol and the children had left early that morning as he had rung Carol on her mobile. In fact, this had been the only means of communication he'd had with his children. Carol had allowed him to speak to Emma on several occasions in the past three weeks. The little girl had seemed happy enough, but at the end of each conversation with her father she had burst into tears and asked when she could come home. Her tears had torn Ryan apart and Carol would snatch the mobile away from Emma and berate Ryan for upsetting her.
On his last phone call that morning, he refrained with difficulty from asking Carol about her letter and why she had sent the abusive emails, deciding it would be wiser not to argue but to leave it to the lawyers when the time came.
It was mid-afternoon when Carol's car finally drew up outside the house. Ryan was there in a flash, gathering his children to him while Glen, who had been driving, helpfully lifted the children's cases from the boot and carried them inside.
Tara had chosen to keep out of Carol's way but was waiting in the kitchen when Emma rushed through bursting with excitement, throwing herself into Tara's open arms.
"I gather congratulations are in order."
Tara looked up, her face flushed from Emma's exuberant kisses and hugs, to face Carol's malevolent stare as she stood at the kitchen door.
"Tara, Tara, guess what? I was sick in the car,” the little girl said proudly, hopping around as she pulled at Tara's jumper.
"Were you darling? Are you all right now?” Tara stroked the child's shining hair, concern in her eyes.
"She's fine. I can look after my own child, thank you,” came the cutting reply.
Tara didn't know what to say. Ryan came in holding a sleeping Ben tucked under his arm, followed closely by the docile Glen. Ryan placed his other arm protectively around Tara's shoulders.
"Say goodbye to your mother and Glen, Emma. They have to go,” he said sharply.
Carol glared. “Don't think because you've suddenly married your little nurse that it's going to help your case, Ryan."
Ignoring her snide remark, Ryan addressed his daughter again. “Emma, I think you'll find a surprise waiting for you in your bedroom.” Emma spun away from her mother and rushed to her room.
"Nothing has changed. You always were a bastard,” Carol snapped. “Come on Glen; let's leave these so-called lovebirds to it.” She grabbed Glen's arm and hauled him along the passage to the front door.
Ryan, still holding Tara at his side and Ben in the crook of his arm, followed them out. “Thanks for bringing my kids home,” he called. “See you in court."
The door crashed behind them. Ryan and Tara turned to face each other.
"I don't know how you keep your cool,” Tara said with a certain amount of awe.
Ryan smiled. “Neither do I, quite frankly. You don't do so badly, either."
Touching Ben's rosy face where he lay nestled against his father's chest, Tara felt an overwhelming love for this beautiful man holding his little boy so tenderly. Lowering her eyes to shield the sudden rush of emotion, she said, “Only because I'm non-confrontational. I can't think of anything to say when someone attacks me like Carol does."
Ryan caressed her cheek. “You could have fooled me,” he said, with a mock grimace. “You've certainly put me in my place a few times lately."
They exchanged knowing smiles and then turned as Emma came bustling up with her new doll clutched importantly in her arms.
"Oh, thank you, Tara. Thank you, Daddy,” she said as Tara lifted her in her arms with a pretend groan and they all cuddled together. “Will you be my Mummy now you've married my Dad?” Emma asked with the innocence of youth.
"Tara will be your second Mummy,” Ryan said quickly as Tara hesitated.
"Daddy, I was sick in the car and my first Mummy said rude words. You know, real swear words."
"Would you like a drink of cordial, Emma?” Tara diverted Emma's attention as Ryan endeavoured to smother his laughter.
* * * *
Tara snuggled close to Ryan in their warm bed after they had made fiery love.
"God! I feel so relieved!” he said.
"I don't think that is a very romantic thing to say,” she teased, running her fingers across his flat stomach.
Laughing, Ryan leaned on one elbow and looked down into her face, lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “You know I didn't mean it in that way, you imp. I meant having the kids home."
Tara touched his chiselled cheekbones and straight, perfect nose, then the slight cleft in his stubborn chin. “Oh, I know what you meant,” she sighed, wondering at this man who had just made love to her with total abandonment. “You love them more than anything, don't you?"
Ryan nodded, and she watched as his expression grew misty. “I can't explain it, but to have two little people that are part of me, relying on me to care for them, to love them, is like no other feeling on earth."
"Even though Emma's not your daughter?"
Ryan blinked at the sudden question. “It doesn't matter. Emma is like my own. She is my daughter and I love her too much to let Carol take her away.” His eyes suddenly filled with tears and Tara felt her heart lurch at his agony.
"You're truly a magnificent man,” she whispered reaching up and kissing his eyelids.
"No. I'm not, Tara Wade. It's you who are magnificent. You, who have given your love so generously to my children. You, who have comforted me and put up with my bad moods..."
"Shh. You'll make me blush,” Tara smiled, overcome.
"It's you who have let me make love to you, given yourself to me so unselfishly,” he continued, his fingers stroking her throat.
Tara quivered in anticipation of his lovemaking as he bent his head and suckled her breasts. Warmth shot through to her very core as his fingers found her most secret place. Suddenly he lifted her above him and as she sat astride him, he entered her, filling her. Tara flung her head so that her hair cascaded down her back as he moulded her breasts and waist with urgent hands.
"You are beautiful,” he whispered huskily as she moved slowly on him, controlling him. He reached for and caressed her hair, smoothing the long strands over her body. He watched in awe at the pure joy on her face as she climaxed, her body pulsating around him.
I've fallen in love with you, my darling, he thought as he felt his control slipping and he reached his own pinnacle. Tara collapsed against his chest and he held her, supporting her. I've fallen in love with you, Tara, he repeated in his mind. But, I can't tell you—not until you are able to trust me; trust me with your secrets.
* * * *
"Molly, this sounds a very odd thing to ask, but have you put any of my undies away in a different place?” Tara felt embarrassed asking the faithful housekeeper such a question.
"No. I never touch your personal things, Tara. You know that,” Molly replied indignantly.
"I know. It's just that several pairs are missing from my drawer."
"Ask Emma. Perhaps she's been playing grown ups, if you know what I mean."
"I expect she has,” Tara laughed.
But Emma hadn't taken her undies. Tara was puzzled and even went as far as to ask Ryan, who thought it was a huge joke. “I don't have a knickers fetish,” he teased, laughing even more at Tara's look of embarrassment.
The next day Tara walked along the town's main street thinking she would have to buy some more panties. She had just come from her regular visit to Thelma and Janet West's cottage and this morning had taken blood samples, which were to be sent away to gauge how Thelma's new trea
tment was progressing.
She had been delighted that Thelma's joint pain had eased considerably. Tara had helped this by gently massaging the tender joints with special analgesic creams.
She was about to cross the road to the lingerie shop, when she was stopped by Lisa Jeffries, the local hairdresser.
"Hello, Mrs Wade, how are you? I wish you would come and visit my salon sometime. I'd love to get my hands on that lovely hair of yours."
Startled by this direct approach, but willing to be friendly, Tara replied with a smile, “If my hair is so lovely, why would you want to get your hands on it, Lisa?"
"Oh, you know what I mean, dear. I wouldn't cut it or anything. Just trim the ends. After all, your young man told me you'd never let anyone cut it."
Tara's heart suddenly bounced and her face felt tight as if the cold had frozen it in time. “My young man? You mean my husband?"
"No, dear. Your young man from back home. Melbourne, I think he said. Here to visit you. He had a cuppa with me in the coffee shop earlier this morning. Ever so nice he was. Told me all about your Dad dying and you being left all that property...” Lisa Jeffries voice droned on but Tara scarcely heard what she was saying.
Tony! Tony was here in Glenroy Crossing. It had been him at the ski resort. He had found her! Oh, God!
"You'll have to excuse me, Lisa. I'm running late. It's been nice to talk to you.” Tara hardly knew what she was saying as she almost ran from the other woman, her boots crunching in the snow as she made her way along the street towards the surgery.
Instead, she went into the house, closed the door quietly, and made her way to her bedroom.
"Is that you Tara?” She heard Molly shouting along the passage.
Taking a deep, controlled breath she called back, “Yes. I've just come to fetch something, that's all."
She leaned against the door, wondering for a moment if she was going to faint. She knew Ryan was working in the surgery next door and Emma was at school, while Molly was looking after Ben.
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