Finn and Trina left the party at the same time. Trina ignored the arch looks. As they stopped at Trina’s gate she pointed to her door. ‘You’re welcome to come in if you like and have coffee.’
‘I’d like that but Piper is drooping and she’ll go to sleep soon.’
Trina’s previous reservations were muted by the delightful fizz of the pleasant evening and she didn’t want the night to end. She could sleep in tomorrow. ‘I do have a folding cot in the cupboard. Sometimes Faith’s daughter sleeps over if her aunt has to go away. She could sleep in there until you go.’
Finn looked surprised. ‘I didn’t realise Faith had a daughter.’
‘We all have life stories. Her daughter’s a real doll. We should introduce her to Piper.’
He looked down at his dozing daughter. Pretended to panic. ‘I don’t think I’m ready to cope with play dates.’
Trina laughed. ‘You’re funny.’ Then glanced at the door. ‘Come in or go?’
‘If you have a cot, I’ll come in. Thank you.’
Trina led the way, pushed open the door and gestured to her bed in an airy fashion. ‘You could change her there and I’ll make up the cot.’
Finn nodded and carried his daughter across the room and undid the nappy bag while Trina happily poked around in the cupboard and pulled out the bag with the folding cot in it. She had it out in minutes, grinning a little when it proved difficult to stand upright and kept sagging in the middle.
‘I think you’re tipsy,’ Finn said, laughing. ‘Here.’ He reached forward with one hand and clicked the last lever into place to make the folding cot stand straight.
‘Who, me?’ Trina laughed. ‘Maybe slightly but this cot is tricky.’ She smiled at him a little dreamily. ‘It was a lovely night.’
Trina laid the two quilts she’d taken from the bag down on the cot mattress—one as a bottom quilt and one to put over Piper as Finn laid her down in the cot. He put her cuddle bunny beside her head and Piper took it, rolled over and put her thumb in her mouth. She closed her eyes, secure that she was safe, even though the bed was different.
Trina gazed at the little girl for a moment and then sighed softly as she turned away. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘Wait.’ Finn’s voice was low, gentle. His hand on her arm stopped her. ‘What was that sigh for?’
‘Just because.’
‘Because what?’
She sighed again. ‘Because you’re a great dad. Because you have a beautiful daughter who doesn’t seem to give you a moment’s bother.’ She paused, then finished the thought. ‘And I want that too.’ Trina felt herself sobering fast when she realised that she’d actually said that out loud.
She pulled away. ‘Must be tipsy. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I wish Piper had a loving mummy like you would be. But that’s for the future.’ Then he turned her and drew her into his arms. ‘It was a lovely night. You looked beautiful and happy and I’d really like to just sit and talk and maybe canoodle a bit. What do you think?’
‘Define canoodle?’
He stroked her cheek. ‘I really, really want to kiss you.’
And she melted. He drew her to the sofa and as he sat he pulled her towards his lap. She wasn’t fighting him. In fact she did a bit of climbing on herself. They both laughed. ‘So beautiful. So sweet,’ he said and then his mouth touched hers and she lost herself in the joy of being cherished.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Finn
FINN WOKE TO moonbeams spilling across the bed and despite the silver threads of light a feeling of foreboding crept over him. He didn’t like it. Splashes of brightness fell on the gently rounded form of a naked Catrina in his arms and he could hear the little snuffles of Piper asleep in the cot they’d moved close to his side of the bed.
They should have waited. His fault. They should have talked about worst-case scenarios if Clancy came back. Should have put in a plan to protect Catrina, but his resistance had been tempted beyond sense once Catrina had climbed onto his lap.
He thought about waking her. Telling her that he would start looking again so he could end his marriage. Protect Catrina from gossip. Gossip that if he stayed would follow her from tomorrow morning when he was seen leaving her croft.
He whispered, ‘It might not happen but there’s a chance...’ But she was asleep. Sound asleep.
Finn slid his arm out gently from beneath Catrina and paused to look down at her in the moonlight. How had he been so lucky to have found this woman—how could he have been so careless to fall in love when he didn’t have the right?
He should never have slept with her, should never have let her fall in love with him, with everything still unsettled, and he knew she did love him enough to be vulnerable to hurt, knew she trusted him now, knew he had to fix this if she was ever to forgive him for such carelessness.
He considered waking her then. He’d always intended warning her there was still a chance but the time had never been right to say it again. What they had nurtured between them had seemed so fragile, so new, had happened so fast, he’d feared to destroy it before it began.
Impossible. Fraught with danger. To lose what they’d just found was unthinkable. He needed to work out tonight how they could move forward with Clancy still out there. But for the moment he could prevent some of the gossip. He’d come back tomorrow.
He wrote a quick note on the back of one of his business cards, then gathered up his sleeping baby, felt her snuggle into his shoulder with complete trust. Like Catrina had. He winced. Slung the nappy bag over his other shoulder and let himself out.
The moon was up, full and bright like daylight, which was lucky as he had no hand free for a torch. Suitable really—he’d been baying at the moon like an idiot, following the siren’s lure. Impulsive fool, risking Catrina’s happiness.
In minutes he was home, had tucked his daughter into her cot and sat on his own empty bed to stare at his feet.
He should never have slept with Catrina with his wife still out there somewhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Trina
SUNLIGHT PEEPED AROUND the curtains in Trina’s croft as she stretched her toes luxuriously and remembered Finn’s arms. She could almost feel the warmth and strength around her that she’d missed so much and couldn’t believe she’d found again. Found again but different. Fairy tales did come true.
It was as if she’d turned into someone other than the broken-hearted woman she’d been for the last two years; she even had a new name. She was Finn’s Catrina. Not Ed’s Trina. Or maybe both.
She squashed down the piercing guilt and sent love to her departed husband. Yes, she would always love him, but now, after these last few weeks, she knew she loved Finn too. Needed to love Finn. In a different way. But in a real way. Not the ethereal way she loved and always would love Ed. And then there was Piper. Sweet, motherless Piper. She loved Piper too. And, my goodness, she loved life!
How had she been so lucky? She stretched again and wondered what Finn was thinking this morning. She’d found his note.
Spare the gossips—we need to get this sorted.
Finn Xx
Her thoughts took a sensuous turn down the hill towards his house and she was tempted to sneak down there and snuggle into his bed. And him. But apparently, until they told people, they should be discreet. For her sake, he said. But he was the new doctor. For his sake as well. She got that. But what a whirlwind these last two weeks had been.
Maybe a six a.m. break and enter wasn’t discreet.
She took her time. Showered in a leisurely fashion. Washed and dried her hair. Applied light make-up though—she stared into the glass with a small curve of her mouth—her well-kissed lips needed no colour this morning. The heat surged into her cheeks. Nor did her face need blusher either. She smiled at herself—a cat-that-ate-the-cream smile—and tur
ned away from the blushing woman in the mirror.
She’d never been that uninhibited with Ed. Their lovemaking had been wonderful but there was something about Finn that drove her a little wild. Or a lot wild. Apparently, she did the same to him. She smiled again.
Her chin lifted. Life was too damned fickle not to take advantage of that fact and she wouldn’t be ashamed, and she never, ever wanted to be cold in the night again.
She could grow used to being driven wild in bed. She drew the gaily coloured scarf that Finn had said he liked from the drawer and flung it around her neck. She looked like an excited schoolgirl.
She tried to think of an excuse to turn up that wasn’t purely, Let me into your bed.
Maybe she could make a breakfast picnic and they could take it down to the beach and eat it on the breakwall? Piper would like that. She could just knock on his door like a neighbour and invite him to join her. Her stomach flipped at the thought of the light in his eyes. That special smile he seemed to find when she appeared.
She took off the scarf again and made bacon and egg sandwiches, the delicious scent swirling and teasing and making her belly rumble. She was hungry for everything this morning. Even the coffee smelt divine as she made up the Thermos, and extravagantly tucked in a small bottle of orange juice as well. She packed her checked rug and tucked her little picnic bag under her arm as she closed the door.
Then she stopped. Leaned back against the cool wood and sucked in a breath as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Finn would be there for her.
For ever? The words trickled through her brain like rivulets of pain on her mind. Questioning. Prodding scarred memories. Undermining her belief in their future.
What if he couldn’t? It hit her. What if he wasn’t there? What if she fell more and more and more in love with Finn until it was too late? What if something happened to Finn and she’d given the last half of her heart, all that was left of her own self, to him and it got smashed and broken and buried in a coffin like the half she’d given to Ed? What if the worst happened and Finn died and left her for ever? She had said she’d never allow herself to feel that pain again. Piper would go to her aunt and Trina would be alone again. Smashed to smithereens like the broken shells pounded by the surf on the beach below.
She sucked in a burning breath and clutched the ball of pain in her chest. It was too easy to remember the ripping pain of loss. Too devastating to imagine her empty bed now tainted with Finn’s imprint so it would always be there. No! Nobody could be that unlucky!
She reached out to lay her hand against the wood of the door. Seeking support. Felt the hard wood as a solid force and drew strength from it. Drew another deep breath as if she were one of her mothers and she needed to be coached through a tough contraction. Okay then. Breathed again. That wasn’t going to happen.
She sagged against the door. Beat it. She’d beaten it. But the voice inside her mind wasn’t finished yet.
So, you don’t want to imagine that? The voice in her head tried another tack. What if the almost as bad happened and his wife came back and Finn chose her as Piper’s mother over Trina? She’d never asked if he still loved Clancy. Had she?
Of course Piper’s needs would outweigh hers, maybe even outweigh Finn’s, to be fair to him. Either way, she would lose.
Of course Piper needed her mother. If Finn had Clancy he wouldn’t need Trina either.
No! They were going to talk about that. Make plans. She straightened her spine. Thought back to the gentle way Finn had cradled her through the night. The whispered promises. The closeness. Finn was a worthy man and she trusted him. And she needed to trust in the future.
Catrina tweaked her scarf reassuringly, lifted her head and a little less jauntily set off down the hill. Felt the promise of the day fill the void. She stopped and closed her eyes and welcomed the sunshine in. Felt it flooding through her body, healing the fear that had gripped her moments before. Opened her eyes and began walking again. A panic attack. She’d had a panic attack. That was what it was. Silly girl. Everything would be fine. She clutched the picnic bag and lifted her face again. Smiled.
The sun seemed to be shining with extra brightness today—what was that? Overhead, gulls soared and swooped and she could feel the rocks scatter and pop with exuberance under her every step. The salty breeze brushed her hair across her cheek and it tickled, making her smile. Like Piper had tickled her cheek with her hair. It began to seep back into her. The joy she’d woken with, the excited thrum of blood in her veins. It had been so long since she’d felt this way—excited, alive and happy, yes, happy. Too long. She’d just been frightened for a moment but she was fine now. One night in Finn’s arms and she was a goner. But what a night!
Life had certainly taken a turn for the good. New job, new man friend—she shied away from the word lover as she glanced down through the trees to where she could see Finn’s front door.
There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway and she slowed her steps. Then she remembered Finn telling her about his sister’s new car. A red convertible. That was who it would be. Darn it. She couldn’t be neighbourly when he had a visitor.
Her footsteps slowed. The door opened and Trina stopped in the lee of a telegraph pole, not wanting to intrude on goodbyes. Three people stepped out. One was Finn with Piper on his hip, clinging like a limpet. Trina smiled fondly.
One was the woman Trina had seen at the restaurant that day that seemed so long ago but was only weeks—Finn’s sister. She’d been right. She had a look of Finn.
And the other... Well, the other had a mist of fine flyaway hair the colour of sun-kissed corn, the exact hue of daffodils, just like Piper’s. Finn and the woman stood together and only Finn’s sister got into the car. Trina felt as if her heart stopped when Finn’s sister was the only one who drove away.
Finn and the golden-haired woman turned and went back into the house. The door closed slowly, like the happiness draining from Trina’s heart. An icy wind swirled around her shoulders as she stared at the closed door. Who was that? But she knew with a cold certainty who it was. Felt the knowledge excising the joy from her day like an assassin’s knife. A killing blow. She turned around and climbed the hill like an old woman to her lonely croft.
Once inside she closed the door and locked it. Before she could shut the curtains and climb into bed the phone rang.
It wasn’t Finn.
They needed her at work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Finn
IN THE MORNING someone knocked on Finn’s door. Surely only minutes after he’d fallen asleep just before daybreak. Groggily he sat up, pushed the covers away and automatically glanced at Piper.
Bright inquisitive eyes sparkled at him and she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, holding onto the top of the cot rail. ‘Mum, Mum, Mum,’ Piper said gleefully.
‘It better not be,’ he muttered for the first time but he had to smile. It probably was Catrina. It was good she was here. Though he smiled to himself at her lack of discretion. To think he’d sneaked away to stop the gossips and she’d come at sparrow call anyway. Today he would throw himself on the mercy of the court and find out how to file for divorce. He wanted that new beginning.
Except when he opened the door it wasn’t Catrina. It was his sister. Looking shell-shocked and pale. She opened her mouth and closed it again.
‘Frances? What’s wrong?’ Finn reached out to draw her inside but she pulled back. Glanced at her car.
‘She’s here.’
‘Who’s here?’ He looked at the car. Saw the cloud of floating golden hair and knew. Felt the world slam into him with the weight of a sledgehammer, driving the breath from his body. He leant his hand on the door frame to support himself for a second and then straightened.
Licked his dry lips and managed to say, ‘Where did you find her?’
‘She found me.
Saw your house was for sale in the paper and recognised it. The real estate agent rang me.’
* * *
Finn’s mind had shut down. He couldn’t think. Piper was clinging to him and the door was closing his wife and his daughter inside his house.
One year late.
And—absolute worst—one day late.
Finn shut the front door and turned around to lean against it, the weight of Piper on his hip grounding him like she had done so many times before, and he stared unbelievingly at the woman he’d given up on seeing again.
And, after last night, hadn’t wanted to see again. Or not like this.
She was talking. He could see her lips move, though she was looking at the ground as she spoke, so that didn’t help the comprehension. Her hair was that floating cloud of daffodil yellow that he’d noticed when they’d first met. Beautiful, he thought clinically, as if he had nothing to do with the scene about to unfold, but too fine; her hair was a golden mist around her head, like Piper’s.
She was still talking but his ears were ringing and seemed to echo with the weight of his emotion. She wasn’t dead. That was a good thing. That was good for Piper. For the future. Maybe they would have some connection in the future. Not so good for him. He was married. And he’d just slept with another woman. Her timing could not have been worse.
He cut across her long-winded explanations that he hadn’t heard a word of. ‘Wait. Sit down. I can’t understand you when you talk to the floor like that.’
She glanced around a little wildly, her hair a drift of golden cotton in the breeze of her movement, so fine and light it swayed with her like yellow seaweed under the ocean.
He sat down too. Piper stayed stuck to his hip with her head buried into his shoulder. He wished he could bury his head too. ‘Why are you here?’
She spoke softly. Hesitantly. ‘To talk to you. Talk to Piper.’
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