His for Christmas

by Cara Colter/Michelle Douglas/Janice Lynn

  Maybe.

  Luke came back at lunchtime, but she feigned sleep and he went away again.

  He came back mid-afternoon. She feigned sleep again, but this time he reached down and touched her shoulder. ‘Keira?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘You have to eat something.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ The thought of food made her feel sick. Not literally sick—not nausea sick—not morning sickness sick. Only yesterday—

  She cut the thought dead.

  To eat she’d have to move. Moving would remind her of what she’d had yesterday. And what she didn’t have today. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she repeated.

  ‘Keira, if you won’t eat at least one piece of toast and drink a glass of orange juice I’m going to take you back to the hospital and have them readmit you.’

  He kept his voice low and quiet. For that much she was grateful. She thought about the hospital—all those rattling trolleys and cheerful nurses. She forced herself into a sitting position and took the plate and glass he held out to her. She froze when he reached out a hand, as if he meant to push her hair back from her face.

  He dropped it back to his side and sank into that chair again. Keira didn’t look at him. She knew what she’d see in his face, and she didn’t think she could bear it.

  She ate the toast and drank the juice. She handed the plate and glass back to him. She didn’t say thank you. She wasn’t thankful. He left a bottle of water on her bedside table. She knew in his place she’d do the same. He didn’t deserve her irritation, her ingratitude.

  She lay back down and stared at the wall. She didn’t have the energy for irritation.

  When he returned later that evening, with a steaming mug of cocoa made with full-cream milk, she sat up without a word and drank it.

  The food and the drink didn’t make her feel better. It didn’t make her feel worse either.

  And at some stage during the night she even managed some sleep.

  When Luke tapped on her door the next morning and entered, Keira forced herself up into a sitting position. But Luke didn’t hand her a plate of toast or a glass of juice. She glanced up.

  ‘I’m sorry, Keira, you’re going to have to get up.’

  He spoke briskly. It made her blink. Resentment churned through her at this invasion into her sanctuary. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I need to clean your room.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘No, you don’t!’

  ‘Yes, I do. This room gets a thorough clean once a week.’ His shoulders lifted. ‘As you pointed out, Candlebark has few enough attractions, but at least the cleanliness of the room is one of the things a prospective tenant can count on.’

  She stared at him and tried to work out what he was talking about. She pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘What day is it?’

  She counted back. ‘It’s Sunday, isn’t it? I was suppose to leave yesterday.’

  She scrambled out of bed. She’d been so caught up in her own stuff she hadn’t stopped to think what a burden she’d become to Luke. He didn’t deserve that. He had a farm to run, a paddock to clear, wheat to harvest. While all she could do was lie in bed and make a nuisance of herself.

  ‘I’ll pack and be out of your hair in under an hour. I promise.’

  Luke caught her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him. ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean, no?’ He must be dying to see the back of her. She didn’t want to notice his steady gaze or the strength of his jaw, but she couldn’t help it. She envied him them both.

  ‘What I mean is that Jason and I would like you to stay on for a bit longer…and your room needs cleaning.’

  ‘But…why?’ She couldn’t think of any conceivable reason why they would want her to stay—not in her current state—unless…‘Are you feeling sorry for me?’ She couldn’t stand that thought. It filled her with dread. It made the darkness looming at the edge of her consciousness nudge closer.

  ‘We are both truly sorry about your miscarriage, Keira.’

  She flinched and pulled out of his grip, turned back towards the bed. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t crawl back beneath those covers. She pushed her shoulders back. She came from a long line of strong women. She would not be a burden to a virtual stranger.

  ‘But that’s not why we want you to stay. We’ve come to think of you as our friend.’

  Oh! She turned.

  Luke had his hands on his hips. He looked big and broad, and his size dominated the space. This might be a doublesized room, but when Luke entered it seemed to shrink.

  ‘I know the doctor said that physically you’re fine. I even rang him this morning to make sure you’d be okay to drive home if that’s what you want to do.’

  He had? She tried to brace herself against the warmth threatening to steal over her at his thoughtfulness.

  ‘He said it shouldn’t be a problem. But…’ Luke frowned. ‘Think about it, Keira. Do you really want to return to the hustle and bustle of the city at Christmastime?’

  She didn’t even have to think about it. The unequivocal no slammed into her before Luke had finished the sentence.

  ‘If you stay at Candlebark you can have all the peace and quiet you want.’

  She had to admit it sounded tempting—a mini-haven before returning to the city and facing all her friends with her unhappy tidings. She wished now she hadn’t spread the news of her pregnancy so far and wide. She bit her lip. She wasn’t due back at work for another two weeks…

  Luke shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, as if readying himself for a fight. He’d argue with her to stay in that no nonsense way of his because he thought it was what was best for her, in the same way he’d tackled her morning sickness with his cures.

  But she no longer had morning sickness.

  Unbidden, a whimper left her. Luke was at her side in seconds, easing her down to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘Oh, Luke. I lost my baby.’

  He pressed one of her hands between both his own. ‘I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I…’ She swallowed. ‘I can’t face going back to the city and telling all my friends yet.’

  ‘You don’t have to. Stay here.’

  The pressure of his hands reassured her. She searched his face. ‘That sounds…nice. I’ll pay for my room of course.’

  ‘No, you won’t. Last week you stayed as my lodger. This week I’m asking you to stay as my guest.’

  One glance at his face told her she wouldn’t change his mind. ‘Then at least let me clean the room.’

  ‘You sure you’re up to it?’

  ‘Positive.’ It might be a blessing to have something to do.

  ‘Then you have yourself a deal.’

  Luke found Jason in the barn, rubbing down Dusty, his horse. He turned the moment Luke’s boots scraped against the packed dirt floor.

  ‘How’s Keira?’

  Luke shrugged, not quite sure how to answer. ‘Do you mind if she stays on for a few more days?’

  Jason’s eyes widened at the question, and it suddenly occurred to Luke that he’d spoken on Jason’s behalf earlier without a second thought. In fact he’d never once bothered to ask Jason how he felt about Luke renting out their spare room. Not once.

  How much else had he taken for granted?

  He set his shoulders. ‘Do you mind? I mean, it’s your home too.’

  ‘It’d be sweet if she stayed a bit longer.’

  Luke nodded, and collapsed onto a bale of hay. He was glad Keira had agreed to stay. It meant he could keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t neglect herself and become ill. Or, alternatively, didn’t overdo things and make herself sick. He ached to do more. Her lack of colour, her lack of vibrancy, her utter lack of life, hurt him in a way he couldn’t put into words. He wanted to find a way to put just a bit of that sparkle back into her eyes.

  He started when Jason threw himself down on the hay bale beside him. ‘You worried about her?’

  ‘Just trying to thin
k of something that might cheer her up.’ He glanced at his son from the corner of his eye. ‘Any suggestions?’

  Jason scuffed the toe of one boot against the floor. ‘Flowers?’ In the next instant he shook his head. ‘Nah, they won’t help.’

  They were both quiet for a while. ‘That night at dinner,’ Jason finally said, ‘she said she liked Christmas.’

  Luke lifted his head. ‘She told me she loves Christmas carols.’

  ‘Maybe we could buy of CD of carols and play it every day. And we could Christmas the house up a bit.’

  Luke remembered what Keira had said to him the day of their picnic—that all kids needed Christmas, even teenagers, and that he should do something special for Jason.

  ‘It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?’ Jason added. ‘We could try and talk her into staying for Christmas—that’s only next Saturday—and we could have a nice dinner or something. I…I think she’d like that.’

  Luke leapt to his feet. ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea.’

  Jason grinned. ‘Sweet.’

  That grin tugged at Luke. He thought of all Keira had just lost, and how much he himself had and yet hadn’t appreciated. ‘You like her, don’t you?’

  Jason shrugged. ‘She laughs a lot.’

  And most of the adults in Jason’s life didn’t laugh—at least not much, Luke realised.

  ‘And she likes people, and that makes it easy to like her. She doesn’t brush you off because she’s busy with her own stuff or anything.’

  Not like him, Luke realised. He hadn’t always been like that, though.

  Jason moved back towards Dusty’s stall. ‘She’s cool. She told me I should talk to you about Mum, and she was right.’

  Luke blinked, but when he thought about it he realised it shouldn’t have surprised him. ‘She told me I should talk to you too. And she was right.’

  Luke glanced down at his hands. ‘Jason, your mum—she was a great mum, right?’

  Jason nodded.

  ‘She would’ve known what to do, known what you needed, if our positions had been reversed and she was here and I wasn’t. I’m not so good at working that stuff out. I thought if I excused you from the farm chores and gave you plenty of spare time to hang out with your friends and your Gran and Grandad, and didn’t remind you about your mum, that’d make things a bit easier for you. But I was wrong. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not sure I’m so good at it either,’ Jason said, his voice gruff. ‘And, yeah, Mum was a great mum, and I miss her loads and all, but I like living here better than the city.’

  Luke let out a breath. ‘So…we’re sweet?’

  ‘We’re sweet.’

  ‘Good.’ With that, Luke started for the door.

  ‘Dad?’

  He swung back.

  ‘Mum’s not the only one who was good. You’re a great dad too, you know?’

  A lump formed in Luke’s throat.

  ‘And…I…uh…love you.’

  Luke walked back and did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He pulled Jason into a rough hug. Jason hugged him back. Hard.

  Luke did his best to swallow the lump. ‘Thanks, son. I love you too.’

  Keira dressed. And then she cleaned her room from top to bottom.

  It didn’t make her feel any worse. It didn’t make her feel any better either. Eventually, though, she had to admit there was nothing left to clean in the room. If she didn’t want to become a burden to Luke she had to stop hiding out in here. She glanced at her watch. It would be lunchtime soon. She could put the kettle on.

  She forced unwilling legs out into the hallway and down its length to the main living area of the house. A part of her was grateful Luke wasn’t in either the kitchen or the living room. The thought of making small talk had the strength draining from her arms and legs. Besides, she wanted him working those fields of his, not worrying about her.

  She filled the kettle and switched it on. Drummed her fingers while she waited for it to boil and then reached for the teabags…and froze. Her mouth dried. A packet of liquorice tea sat innocuously on the counter beside all her other teas. The liquorice tea she wouldn’t need again. She swung away, pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat.

  Don’t think about it!

  The bright cover of a magazine drew her gaze. She reached out and tugged it towards her, desperate for the distraction. And froze again. Her pregnancy magazine! With its cover picture of a smiling baby—a chubby-cheeked baby dressed in cheerful red and…and smiling.

  She slammed it face down, but that didn’t help. A very pregnant woman graced the back cover, advertising a brand of stroller. Keira shoved her chair back and raced blindly into the living room, trying to block the images of that smiling baby and that pregnant woman from her mind.

  She eased herself down to the sofa and closed her eyes, tried to focus on her breathing. When she opened them again they zeroed in on the tiny baby booties she’d left on the coffee table.

  She couldn’t move. All she could do was stare.

  She’d left those booties there because she hadn’t wanted to pack them away. She’d wanted to touch them, play with them…imagine the tiny feet that would wear them.

  ‘Oh, Munchkin…’

  Very slowly she reached out and gathered them in one hand. They were so very little. She lifted them and inhaled their clean woollen scent. They felt soft and warm against her face.

  ‘Keira?’

  Keira started. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there with the booties pressed against her cheek. She pulled her hands and the booties down into her lap.

  Luke moved into the room with that easy grace of his. He settled himself on the coffee table so they sat almost knee to knee. His heat and his breadth reached out to her in silent invitation. She knew all she had to do was lean across and he’d enfold her in his arms. It wouldn’t make up for what had happened, for what she had lost, but she suspected it would help. She suspected that being held in his arms would make her feel safe for a bit.

  But that would only be an illusion. She stiffened her spine and resisted the temptation.

  ‘You okay?’

  She didn’t know if she’d ever be okay again, but she couldn’t say that out loud because it would be a pathetic thing to say. Her mother would never have said it.

  ‘I…’ She pressed the booties between both hands. ‘Trying to ignore what’s happened isn’t working.’

  His eyes softened. ‘Is that what you’ve been trying to do?’

  She nodded. ‘But I was just about to make a cuppa when I saw my liquorice tea sitting there, which reminded me of morning sickness and being…’

  He nodded. She was grateful he didn’t finish the sentence for her.

  ‘And my pregnancy magazine was on the table, and it has the most gorgeous baby on the front cover and the most pregnantest woman on the back.’ She didn’t know if there was such a word, but she knew Luke would understand what she meant. ‘And then when I came in here and found these…’ She stopped worrying at the booties and held them up.

  He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think to clear all that away.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’ He’d been too worried about whether she was eating enough, and if she was ever going to emerge from his spare bedroom or not.

  She stared down at the booties and that darkness stretched through her. She curled her hand into a fist, crushing the delicate wool between her fingers. ‘I’m trying to think what I could’ve done differently. Did I lift something too heavy? Have I been pushing myself too hard? Did I eat something I shouldn’t have? Maybe that six-hour drive from Sydney—’

  Luke reached out and closed his hands over hers, bringing a halt to her rush of words. ‘You did everything you could to keep you and your baby healthy and safe, Keira. You didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘But…’ That couldn’t be true. If there was nothing she could do differently next time then…then there’d never be a next ti
me.

  ‘Dr Metcalfe said sometimes these things just happen for no conceivable reason.’

  Then…She swallowed. She couldn’t go through this again—not on her own. So much for priding herself on her independence!

  She leapt to her feet, shoved the booties at Luke and started to pace. For as long as he sat so close the temptation to seek comfort in his arms beat at her—more proof of her weakness. ‘I’ve let my mother and grandmother down!’

  He shot to his feet. ‘What on earth—?’

  ‘They were both strong women who could do it all alone, but I’m not like that. I—’

  ‘Garbage!’

  His bluntness made her blink.

  ‘Your mother didn’t do it on her own. She might not have had your father around, but from what you’ve told me your grandmother was there for her every step of the way.’

  Keira stared at him.

  ‘I’m not denying that they were both strong women, but, Keira, you’re even stronger. You’ve shown more courage, not less. With eyes wide open you chose to have a baby without the usual support networks. That’s amazing!’

  But look where it had landed her!

  ‘One day you will make a wonderful mother.’

  No, she wouldn’t. She didn’t have what it took to travel down that path again. Not on her own.

  ‘And it’s not shameful to need other people, to rely on them. It’s natural. You needed your mother and your grandmother, didn’t you? People need other people—you taught me that. I need Jason. And I know I need to broaden my social network.’ His lips twisted. ‘I’m hoping it’ll keep me more…balanced in future.’

  His admission brought her up short. Had her idea of independence become skewed, affecting her judgement? Had she deliberately kept people—men—at a distance just to prove she could do it all on her own?

  ‘Keira, you have your mother on an impossibly high pedestal.’ He paused. ‘Did she ever marry?’