Twins For Christmas
Page 8
‘Do you know what you want to do?’
‘No. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I only know I can’t go back to what I did.’
Kate couldn’t think past the need to try and make Rory reconsider such a huge decision.
‘Why not?’
‘You know damn well why not.’
She could see the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel. She could hear the anger in his words. She had to summon a lot of courage to carry on.
‘Not really,’ she said cautiously. ‘What I do know is that you’re absolutely brilliant at what you do. Or used to do. You proved that again tonight. And, yes, I know that you would find it a lot harder than anyone else to deal with losing a child, but I know that you could if you had to. I think you know that, too.’
The headshake was terse. ‘I proved I couldn’t. I ran away. I’m not strong enough.’
‘I think you’re incredibly strong. The stron gest man I’ve ever met.’
‘What?’ The car was inching along a road that had thick snow piled on the tops of hedges on either side. The American voice told Rory to take the second exit on the roundabout they had just encountered. Rory complied, and then looked across at Kate. ‘Why did you say that?’ he demanded.
‘You care,’ she said simply. ‘You always have. That’s what makes you so good at your job. I saw it again tonight, in the way you talked to Lucy and the other children. In the way you treat your mother. And in the way you’re dealing with the shock of finding you’re going to become a father. You care, Rory, and that takes strength.’
He made no response. The only sound was the flick of the windscreen wipers, the background hum of the heating system and that unique, sucking sound that tyres made in snow. Was he listening? Kate hoped so.
‘The problem is that you’ve been trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders since you were seven years old,’ she continued gently. ‘Giving and giving and not letting anyone give back.’
Still no response. Kate bit her lip hard enough to hurt.
‘Nobody can do that for ever. You have to fill the well, and there’s only one place you can get new strength that really lasts. And it’s not the Australian Outback, Rory.’
‘Oh? Where is it, then?’
‘In here.’ Kate touched her heart. ‘It’s love, Rory.’ She took a very deep breath. ‘When we love someone we nurture them and we give them strength. Any amount. It never runs out.’
‘It ran out for my mother,’ Rory said harshly. ‘Do you think she wasn’t loved? My father loved her. I love her.’
‘But she shut herself away, didn’t she? If you can’t let someone love you because you’re afraid, then you can’t love them back. It has to go both ways. You should know that better than anyone. Or maybe you don’t—because you’ve never really had it, have you?’ Kate had to struggle not to cry. ‘You were the strong one. For your parents and then your patients and your colleagues. You’ve just never let anyone close enough to love you, and that’s why you ran out of the strength you need. If you love someone and you’re lucky enough to be loved back then there’s always new strength to be found. For ever and ever. It never stops and…and you can face anything.’
‘I…can’t.’
‘What? Let someone close enough to love you?’
‘I don’t think I’m capable of it.’
‘Why not?’ Kate’s heart was breaking. ‘Do you think you don’t deserve it? Do you think you have to spend your whole life proving there’s a reason why Jamie died and you didn’t?’
There was an awful silence that went on and on. Kate had gone too far, hadn’t she? Ripped open an old, excruciating wound.
‘You have reached your destination.’ The voice from the satellite navigation device was jarring.
Still the silence hung over them. Rory drove slowly through the open iron gates of Mary Ballantyne’s property. Up a drive lined with vast, ancient oak trees. Up to the steps leading to the front door of a beautiful, old two-storeyed stone house. He turned off the engine, but then he just sat there, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, staring ahead sightlessly.
‘Yes,’ he finally bit out. ‘That’s exactly what I’ve always thought.’
‘Well, you’re wrong,’ Kate informed him. ‘And it’s too late, anyway.’
‘What?’
‘You’ve kept people away, and you don’t want them to love you, but it’s happened, Rory.’ Kate’s inward breath caught and she made a sound like a sob. ‘I love you. I have all along.’
Oh…God! She’d done exactly what she had been so sure she wouldn’t do. Confessed what should have remained a secret. Now she’d have to hear Rory say that he could never return that love because he wasn’t capable of it, and that he was sorry, but he would still be there to help with the children.
And it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Kate tried to fight her tears but couldn’t. She fumbled with the door latch instead.
‘You unload the presents,’ she choked out. ‘I’m going to go and find that donkey.’
HE HAD TO GO AFTER HER. Unloading the presents would have to wait.
She shouldn’t be running through the snow. She could trip, slip and hurt herself, or the babies. Except she wasn’t running. Kate might be moving with speed and purpose, but she was being careful. As capable as always.
By the time Rory was out of the car and taking in that first, painfully cold blast of fresh air, Kate had vanished around the side of the house.
He set off to follow, but he was moving more slowly than Kate had. Not that he realised it. His brain was so preoccupied that what his feet and legs were doing had a low priority.
What Kate had said. About strength and love.
It made perfect sense.
He hadn’t consciously recognised what she’d given him that night, but he’d taken it with him and had known it was precious. He’d taken it out again and again with his mind, held it and watched it grow. And he’d known how precious it was because it had given him hope. Belief in himself.
Strength.
Kate had given him love. She loved him. The revelation was so overwhelming he had to pause for a moment when he reached the corner of the house. Centre his balance before he walked on to where he was confident he would find the courtyard and the stables. Of course he would.
Kate was there.
Had he really believed that what he felt for her was simply gratitude? The need to repay a debt to which he’d added admiration for how good a mother she was going to be?
It was so easy to think back to the first day he’d seen her, when she’d come to work at St Bethel’s and he’d noticed her sweet, rather shy smile. To remember his growing respect for the way she did her job. The way her quiet presence had always made his work smoother and more satisfying.
She’d been giving him strength all along.
Even easier was to remember the awakening of sexual interest. He would never forget their night together. The way she’d kissed him and touched him. The way passion had flamed and—at least temporarily—burnt away the pain of ultimate failure. Of course he would never forget. He’d been savouring fantasies centred on that night ever since.
The kind of fantasies he’d never allowed himself before. A fantasy that had a face. A name. A real person. Wanting more had always been his signal to pull the plug on any new relationship. To escape before he crossed the line into territory that led to marriage and children and the kind of misery he’d finally escaped. But it had been safe to play with thoughts of Kate when he was tucked away in a part of the world where no one would ever find him. Safe to remember every little thing he’d ever noticed about her. To dream about touching her again.
Rory had reached the courtyard. A low building made of the same stone as the house marked the opposite side of the square. A rank of heavy wooden doors were divided into halves, and one set had an upper half that was open. A light was glowing inside.
Was it possible to fall in love retrospec
tively?
No.
He’d been in love with Kate all along, hadn’t he? That was why he’d instinctively kept his distance. Why he’d gone all out to make sure every waking moment was filled with either work or lots of other people. He’d generated a force field he’d probably never have noticed if she hadn’t smashed her way through it that night.
Being in love… Having someone love him like that…He might not have articulated the prospect, but he’d sensed the added intensity of his need to escape. To run. Like the coward he’d been for far too long. Even now his heart rate was picking up and his mouth was dry. Fear was part of the icy drizzle settling on his head and his skin, seeping under his collar. Enveloping him. Threatening to paralyse him.
But this was Kate, and she said she loved him, and the truth of that was blinding because he knew that was where his new strength had come from.
From knowing he was loved.
His final steps crunched through the layer of snow on cobbles and Rory reached for the ancient iron latch on the stable door with a sensation of…relief.
Of reaching home.
He didn’t need to run any more.
What he needed was…Kate.
CHAPTER TEN
THE ONLY THING Rory could see in the limited light from a single bulb high on the stable wall was the profile of Josephine the donkey, standing on a thick carpet of clean straw. She swung her head to see who was entering her space.
Rory stopped, carefully pulling the door closed behind him and slipping the latch into place. He stayed still, not wanting to frighten the creature, but when he turned back he saw long ears pricked forward and got the impression that he was more an object of interest than alarm.
He’d never been this close to a donkey. She was shaggy and grey, with liquid, dark brown eyes and a tuft of brown hair on the tips of those extraordinary ears. She was quite small and she was very round. Very pregnant-looking.
Rory put out his hand, and Josephine stretched out her pale muzzle to sniff his fingers. Then she looked up at him again, and Rory took a step closer.
‘Hello, Josie,’ he murmured, moving his hand to stroke her neck. ‘Are you all right? You look all right. That’s good, isn’t it?’
The donkey’s coat felt softer than he had expected. It was mousy grey except for the amazing dark stripe across her shoulders and down her spine. And now that he was this close he could see over the top of the round little donkey to where Kate was kneeling in the straw.
In front of her stood a baby donkey. Dark brown and fluffy, and very, very small. It looked like a soft toy, except that it wobbled a bit as it stood there on long, knobbly legs, and it was nuzzling the fingers of Kate’s outstretched hand.
Kate looked up at Rory. Her face was tear-streaked, but she was smiling.
‘Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’
Rory couldn’t look away from the joy in Kate’s eyes. ‘It certainly is,’ he said softly.
‘Come and see,’ Kate invited. ‘I don’t think Josie minds at all.’
‘She doesn’t seem to.’ Rory’s movements were still cautious, however, as he moved to her other side. A glance behind showed him the upper half of the stable door, ajar enough to see that snow was falling thickly now, the white flakes catching the light from the stable. It looked like a curtain, shutting them off from the outside world. This stable was a private place right now. Warm and musty and full of the joy of new life.
‘I thought Josie was still pregnant,’ he confessed. ‘Shows how much I know about donkeys.’
‘She’s probably always fat.’ Kate smiled. ‘The baby’s completely dry, so he must have been born a while ago. Probably just after everybody left to go to the Christmas party. Touch his coat, Rory. You won’t believe how soft it is.’
Rory dropped to a crouch and gently touched the tiny creature. ‘He’s a very different colour from his mother.’
‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘Josie’s pretty, too. Aren’t you?’ Rory looked sideways to find Josephine watching him carefully. ‘You have an amazing stripe,’ he told her.
‘The cross.’ Kate nodded. ‘Lucy told me Josie’s called a Jerusalem donkey. They were given the mark of the cross in honour of having carried Mary to the stable on Christmas Day. What…?’ She was staring at Rory. ‘Why are you smiling like that?’
‘It just occurred to me.’ Rory’s smile widened. ‘I’m in a stable. On Christmas Eve. With a pregnant woman.’
‘But I intend to stay pregnant,’ Kate said hurriedly. ‘For as long as possible.’
‘Good thinking.’
She seemed to shrink inwards at his approval. Shut ting herself away from him?
‘Katie—’
‘You don’t have to say anything else, Rory,’ Kate interrupted. ‘In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. It’s perfectly understandable that you’re not keen on these babies arriving.’
‘I was only referring to this particular date. It’s too early, isn’t it? We want them as healthy as possible before they arrive in the world, and being inside you is the best place by far.’
Kate was silent. It felt as if she was holding her breath.
‘Besides…’ Rory wanted to smile, but this felt too big. Too important. ‘How awful would it be to have their birthdays on Christmas Day? It’s bad enough being a twin and having to share your party with someone else. Imagine if you had to share it with half of mankind?’
‘You didn’t like sharing your parties?’
Rory took in a slow breath. ‘I didn’t mind at all,’ he said softly. ‘I would have given anything to be still sharing parties. But I’ve never even had one since Jamie died.’ He was silent for a breath. ‘After Dad died there was no one to even remember the date except me. And no gifts. Until this year.’
The baby donkey tried to move and fell over. Josephine nudged it back to its feet and closer to her body. It lifted a fluffy head and searched for sustenance.
‘Do you think it needs help?’ Kate sounded anxious.
‘Just wait.’ Rory felt for Kate’s hand in the straw and grasped it. ‘He knows what he needs. I think he can find it.’
Sure enough, the tiny muzzle soon gave up on the outside of his mother’s flank and edged behind her leg, then up to the underside of that round belly. A moment later and the blob of fluff that was the baby’s tail gave a triumphant flick. They could see matchstick legs bracing, and in the utter silence of the night they could hear determined sucking noises. Josephine gave a sigh and lowered her head. Her eyes drifted half-shut.
The baby donkey wasn’t the only one to know what he needed. Rory’s hold on Kate’s hand tightened a little.
‘This year I got the most amazing gift anyone could have ever given me,’ he told her. ‘I knew it was very special, but until tonight I didn’t realise exactly what it was and why I needed it so much. Why I will always need it.’
Kate’s eyes looked huge. And puzzled. ‘What was it?’
‘You.’
Her lips parted in astonishment and Rory swallowed. Hard. He needed a moment before he could say anything else. And then all he could say was, ‘Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?’
‘I’m not—’
Rory pressed a finger to her lips to stem the denial. He smoothed damp tendrils of hair from her cheeks and then he touched her lips again. Softly. Totally blown away by how touching her was making him feel. So powerful. Capable of protecting this woman from anything. Nurturing her. Spending as long as it took to convince her of just how beautiful she was.
Kate closed her eyes, and he felt movement on his fingers as she tilted her head forward to press her lips on his hand in a kiss.
Something inside him simply melted away.
‘I thought you were giving me comfort,’ he told her. ‘Because you felt sorry for me. I didn’t want that. But I knew you were giving me strength, and I did want that. I kept it the whole time I was away. Something pure and warm and good, and I needed it so
much.’
He lifted her chin gently and waited for Kate’s eyes to open.
‘What I didn’t understand was that you were giving me love. I didn’t know it was there, and I hadn’t asked for it, but you gave it to me anyway.’
‘I had to,’ Kate whispered. ‘Because I do love you.’
There was still no way Rory could find a smile. ‘I’ve thought about it so much,’ he continued. ‘It was like you were some kind of a guardian angel while I was gone. You were a whole world and another lifetime away, but you were still there with me. Every day.’
‘And you were here with me. With us.’ Kate’s hand went to her belly and Rory covered her hand with his.
‘You said these babies are a gift, and you were right. Not just because of the new life they represent, but because they’re bringing us together. Making us a family.’
He felt Kate flinch. ‘I don’t want you to marry me because I’m pregnant,’ she said. ‘Or because you’re… I don’t know…grateful, or something, that I love you.’
‘I’m not saying this right.’ Rory’s hand was still on her belly, but his eyes were on her face. Seeking her gaze and then holding it with an intensity he could feel so deeply within him that it had to be touching his soul.
‘I love you, Katie. I need you. You saved my life. But it’s more than that. You are my life. I can’t believe I couldn’t see this a long, long time ago. This has nothing to do with the babies. They’re a gift. A bonus. A…’ This was so important—but how could he make her understand?
‘A two-for-one Christmas special?’
Finally he could smile. He could see the joy blooming in Kate’s eyes and knew that he didn’t need to say anything more. She believed him. She trusted him.
‘I love you.’ His voice was stronger now. Sure and confident. ‘I always will. I suspect I always did, but you were right about that, too. Not letting anyone close was so ingrained I didn’t even see it. You’re a wise woman, Katie Simpson.’
She was smiling now. ‘Just as well there aren’t three of me, or this would be getting spooky.’