The Bridesmaid's Baby

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The Bridesmaid's Baby Page 6

by Barbara Hannay


  ‘Try some Parmesan and apple,’ she said, diving for safety by offering him the plate. ‘Have you tried them together? It’s a nice combination.’

  Will obliged and made appropriately, appreciative noises.

  Lucy took a sip of wine. In many ways this was one of her favourite fantasies—talking to Will late into the night. But in the fantasies there’d been no awkwardness. They had been as comfortable and relaxed as they were ten years ago, before they’d drifted apart.

  Lucy wondered what they would discuss now. Will had hinted that he had specific things he wanted to talk about. Would he raise them now? She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear his thoughts on marriage and babies and being over the hill.

  Perhaps he still felt that tonight wasn’t the night to be deep and meaningful. She searched for a safe topic that didn’t include weddings, or honeymoons, or babies.

  ‘So, have you started hunting for a new job?’ she asked.

  ‘I haven’t put in any applications yet.’ Will settled more comfortably into his chair, crossed an ankle over a knee. ‘But I’ve found a few positions I might apply for. There’s even one in Armidale, at the university.’

  ‘In Armidale?’ So close? To cover her surprise, Lucy said, ‘I have trouble picturing you as an academic behind a desk.’

  He shrugged. ‘I thought it would make a nice change, after years of hiking over deserts and mountains looking for rocks.’

  ‘There’s that, I guess.’ She couldn’t resist adding facetiously, ‘I suppose geology is a young man’s job.’

  Will smiled into his glass, took a swig, then set it down.

  ‘I imagine your parents would like you to take up farming,’ she suggested.

  ‘They’ve never mentioned it.’ He sighed. ‘They’re actually talking about selling up.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucy stared at him, horrified.

  ‘My mother’s been bitten by the travel bug.’

  ‘She must have caught it from you.’

  Will smiled crookedly. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘But your family’s been farming Tambaroora for five generations.’

  ‘And now they’ve come to the end of the line,’ Will said dryly.

  Nervous now, Lucy chewed at her lower lip. Already they were treading on sensitive ground. Everyone in the district had always known that Will’s older brother, Josh, was expected to take over the family farm.

  Josh’s death had changed everything.

  She closed her eyes, as if to brace herself for the slam of pain that she always felt when she thought about that time.

  ‘We’ve never talked about it, Lucy.’

  She didn’t have to ask what Will meant. The fact that they had never really talked since Josh’s death had been like an unhealed wound inside her. ‘There wasn’t any chance to talk,’ she said defensively. ‘You went away straight after the funeral.’

  ‘There were lots of good reasons for me not to stay. Your father didn’t help.’

  ‘My father?’

  ‘After Josh’s funeral, I tried to phone. I turned up on your doorstep, but your father wouldn’t let me near you.’

  Lucy stared at Will, stunned. ‘I didn’t know that.’ Her eyes stung and she blinked back tears. If she’d known Will had called, what would she have done? What might have been different?

  Will’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘Your father was probably right to protect you. I…I can’t imagine that I would have been much help at the time.’

  Lucy swallowed to ease the aching lump in her throat. She’d been in a terrible state after the funeral and the miscarriage. The really awful thing was that everyone thought she was grieving, and she was, of course, but a huge part of her distress had been caused by her overpowering feelings of guilt. ‘Did you know…about the baby?’

  ‘Gina told me at the time,’ Will said quietly. And then, after a beat, ‘I’m really sorry, Lucy.’

  He sounded almost too apologetic, as if somehow he felt responsible. But that didn’t make sense.

  Lucy willed her hand to stop trembling as she held out the plate to him and he made a selection. For some time they sat in silence, nibbling walnuts in the silvered half-light, and then Will changed the subject.

  ‘You’ve done so well here,’ he said. ‘I’m hearing from everyone that you’re a fabulous vet.’

  ‘I love my job.’

  Will nodded, then he asked carefully, ‘So you’re happy, Lucy?’

  From force of habit, a lie leapt to her lips. ‘Of course.’ She reached down and patted Harry’s silky black and white head. ‘I’m perfectly happy. I love this district. I love my work.’

  ‘But is it enough?’

  Oh, help. Lucy covered her dismay with a snappy reply. ‘What kind of question is that?’

  ‘An important one.’

  ‘You answer it then.’ She knew she sounded tense, but she couldn’t help it. Will’s question unnerved her. It was too searching, too close to a truth she didn’t want to reveal. ‘Are you happy, Will? Is your work enough?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  It wasn’t the answer she’d expected and she took a moment to digest it. ‘I suppose that’s why you’re looking for something different?’

  ‘I suppose it is.’ He circled the rim of his glass with his finger. ‘I’ve had a bit of a wake up call.’

  A swift flare of shock ripped through Lucy like a sniper’s gunshot. ‘Will, you’re not sick, are you?’

  ‘No, thank God, but I’ve had a close shave. I haven’t told my family this. I didn’t want to upset them, but there was an explosion in an old mine we were surveying.’

  ‘In Mongolia?’

  ‘Yes.’ His face was suddenly tight and strained. ‘The two men with me were both killed. Right in front of me. I’ve no idea how I escaped with a few scratches and bruises.’

  ‘Oh, God, Will, that’s terrible.’ Tears threatened again as Lucy tried not to think the unthinkable—that there had almost been a world where Will didn’t exist.

  ‘I went to their funerals,’ Will said quietly. ‘And they really opened my eyes.’

  ‘In what way?’

  In the moonlight, she could see the sober intensity in Will’s face.

  ‘Barney was a bachelor, you see. No ties. So his funeral was a simple gathering of family and friends. There were a few words to say he was a good bloke and then a rather boozy wake. But Keith was a family man, always talking about his wife and three kids. And at the funeral his son spoke.’

  Will sighed and rubbed at his forehead. ‘He was such a courageous little guy. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old. And he stood up there in front of us, with these big brown eyes, shiny with tears. His voice was all squeaky and threatening to break, but he told us all how proud he was of his father and how he wanted to live his life in a way that would go on making his dad proud.’

  Lucy’s throat ached at the thought of that little boy. She could picture his mother, too. The poor woman would have been so proud, despite her grief.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about that kid,’ Will said. ‘He was like this fantastic gift to the world that Keith had left behind.’

  Lucy reached for the handkerchief she’d tucked into the bodice of her dress and dabbed at her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Will said. ‘I’m being maudlin, talking about funerals when we’ve just been to a wedding.’

  ‘No, it’s OK.’ She sniffed and sent him a watery smile. ‘It’s just happened to you, so of course it’s on your mind. Anyway, that’s what life’s all about, isn’t it? Births, deaths and marriages.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘I guess I’m a slow learner. It wasn’t till I was sitting in that church that I suddenly got it. I could finally understand why Gina went to so much trouble to have a family, and why Mattie was prepared to undergo something so amazingly challenging as a surrogate pregnancy.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lucy said, but the single word came out too loud and sounded more like a sob.

  The dogs lifte
d their heads and made soft whining noises in her direction. With a cry of dismay, Will lurched to his feet.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I should be more sensitive. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.’

  He was referring to her miscarriage. Would he be shocked to hear that she still longed for a baby, that her need was bordering on obsession?

  With an angry shake of his head, he went to the window, thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and looked out into the night.

  Despite her tension, Lucy was mesmerised by the sight of him limned by moonlight. Her eyes feasted on his profile, on his intelligent forehead, on the decisive jut of his nose, his strong chin with its appealing cleft.

  Without looking at her, he said, ‘I’m surprised you haven’t found someone else and settled down to start a family.’

  Oh, help. Lucy stiffened. Again, Will had gone too far. Again, her chin lifted in defence and she hit back. ‘I could say the same about you.’

  ‘Ah.’ He turned back from the window. His eyes shimmered and he said in a dry tone, ‘But I’m the vagabond and you’re the homebody.’

  Too true.

  However, Lucy couldn’t help remembering how he’d come rushing back to Australia when she and Josh had announced their engagement.

  She’d always wondered why.

  But there was no way she could open up that discussion now. Not tonight.

  She felt too vulnerable tonight and she was scared she might blurt out something she’d regret later. It would be too embarrassing and shameful to confess that she’d finally gone out with Will’s brother, hoping that word would reach Will and spark a reaction.

  If she told him that, she’d also have to confess that the plan had backfired when she’d become pregnant.

  It was more than likely she would never be able to talk to Will about this.

  Nevertheless, tonight’s conversation felt like an important step. It was almost as if she and Will had picked up their friendship where they’d left off. He’d told her about the funeral, something he hadn’t been able to share with his family.

  It suddenly felt OK to say, ‘I’ve actually become quite desperate to have a baby.’

  Will spun around from the window and his chest rose and fell. Above his open white shirt, the muscles in his throat rippled. His eyes smouldered in the cool white light. ‘You’d make a wonderful mother, Lucy.’

  The compliment made her want to cry, but she gave him a shrugging smile. ‘It’s a terrible waste, isn’t it?’

  She hadn’t expected to say more but, now that she’d started, it was surprisingly easy to keep going. ‘To be honest, I worry constantly about the state of my ovaries and whether I can expect them to go on delivering, month after month.’

  ‘The old biological clock?’

  She nodded. ‘Early menopause runs in my family. That’s why I’m an only child.’

  Will frowned. ‘But I have it on good authority that you’ve turned down at least three proposals of marriage.’

  Heat flooded Lucy’s face. ‘I suppose Gina told you that?’

  He nodded.

  ‘OK, so I’m fussy, but that’s because I’m not so desperate that I’d settle for just any guy as a husband. Willowbank isn’t exactly swarming with Mr Rights, you know. I’d rather be a single mother.’

  Abruptly, Will came back to his chair and sank down into it, long legs stretching in front of him. ‘Why would you want to be a single mother?’

  ‘Because it’s better than not being a mother at all.’

  He looked surprised and thoughtful.

  Lucy made herself comfortable with her legs curled and an elbow propped on the chair’s arm, her cheek resting on her hand. ‘I’ve been to a fertility clinic,’ she told Will. ‘And I’ve already tried one round of IVF.’

  ‘IVF?’ he repeated, sounding shocked.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit…extreme?’

  ‘It seemed logical to me. I’ve inseminated hundreds of animals and it worked beautifully for Mattie and Gina. But, unfortunately, it didn’t work for me.’

  Will made a soft sound, a kind of strangled gasp.

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s probably too much information,’ she said.

  But Will shook his head and, a moment later, a smile played around his lips. He tapped at the arm of his chair. ‘It’s a pity Mattie can’t have a baby for you.’

  Lucy knew he was joking and forced a weak laugh. Uncurling her legs, she sat straight in her chair. ‘Don’t worry, that thought’s occurred to me but I imagine Mattie has other plans now she has a husband.’

  ‘I’m sure she has.’ With a thoughtful frown, Will scratched at his jaw. ‘But it’s a pity there isn’t someone who could help you out.’

  ‘Do you mean a good friend? Someone like you, Will?’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LUCY could not believe she’d just said that.

  What had she been thinking?

  How on earth could she have boldly suggested that Will could help her to have a baby—out of friendship?

  What must he think of her?

  The only sound in the room came from Seamus, the Irish setter, snoring softly at Will’s feet. Lucy stared at the sleeping dog while her heart beat crazily.

  ‘You know that was a joke, don’t you?’ she said in a small voice.

  To her dismay, Will didn’t answer and she wished she could crawl away and hide with her tail between her legs, the way Seamus and Harry did when they were in big trouble.

  If only she could press a rewind button and take those words back.

  When the silence became unbearable she looked up and saw Will’s serious expression and her heart juddered. ‘Will, I didn’t mean it. It was my warped sense of humour. You know I’ve never been very good at making jokes. They always come out wrong. I’m sorry. Honestly, I feel so embarrassed.’

  He looked shaken. ‘For a moment there, I thought you were serious.’

  ‘I wasn’t, Will. You can calm down.’

  Suddenly a cloud covered the moon and the room was plunged in darkness. Lucy turned on the lamp beside her and the return of light seemed to clear the air.

  Will rose abruptly and stood towering over her. ‘Perhaps I’d better get going before I say something outrageous, too.’

  As Lucy stood she prayed that her legs were steady enough to support her. ‘Thanks for helping me with the python,’ she remembered to say as they crossed the lounge room.

  Will smiled. ‘My pleasure. I hope he makes a good recovery, and thanks for the drink and the chat. It was like old times.’

  No, Lucy thought. Blurting out her desire to have a baby was not remotely like old times.

  They went through to the kitchen, where Will collected his jacket and tie, and then on to the front door. His hand touched Lucy’s shoulder and she jumped.

  ‘See you later, Goose.’ He dropped a light kiss on her cheek and then he was gone.

  Will felt as if he’d stepped off a roller coaster as he started up the truck and drove away, watching the lights of Lucy’s house grow smaller and more distant in the rear-vision mirror.

  What a crazy night! In a matter of hours, he’d gone from being best man at a wedding to standing in as a veterinary nurse to fielding a request for his services as a father for Lucy’s baby.

  Not that Lucy had been serious, of course.

  But bloody hell. The thought gripped Will and frightened him beyond belief. His heart had almost raced out of control when Lucy made that offhand suggestion tonight.

  He was still shaken now, even though the subject had been laid to rest. Problem was, he couldn’t let it go.

  He kept thinking about how badly she wanted a baby. If he hadn’t seen the emotional pain that Gina had been through, or if he hadn’t so recently attended Keith’s funeral, he might not have caught the genuine longing in Lucy’s voice. In her eyes.

  He might not have understood, might have simply thought she was selfish, wanting it all, when she
already had so much.

  But now he got it, he really understood that the desire to have a child came from somewhere deep, so deep that it couldn’t be properly explained. And it shouldn’t be ignored.

  But should he be involved? For Pete’s sake, he’d seen the haunted loneliness in Lucy’s eyes and he’d almost grabbed her suggestion and moulded it into a realistic option.

  They’d been such good friends and he’d wanted to help her.

  But father her baby?

  That was even crazier than the way he’d felt when he’d danced with her tonight at the wedding. It was the kiss on the veranda revisited. He’d been caught out by unexpected emotions, by an inappropriate desire to get too close to Lucy.

  Every time she’d stumbled against him, he’d wanted to keep her close. He’d wanted to inhale the clean, rosy scent of her skin, to touch his lips to her skin, right there, in front of the wedding guests.

  Thank heavens he’d had the sense to stop dancing before things got out of hand.

  But it didn’t really make sense that he was feeling this way about Lucy now. Why would he want to play second fiddle to the memory of his brother?

  If he’d wanted Lucy as his girlfriend, he should have grabbed the chance when they were at university, before she got to know Josh. Problem was, he’d been too distracted by the sheer numbers of girls at Sydney Uni and he’d wanted to play the field.

  And, truth be told, when he thought about those days, he had to admit that whenever he’d made a move in Lucy’s direction she’d adroitly held him at a distance. She’d insisted that she was his buddy, not his girlfriend.

  And yet she’d fallen for Josh quite easily. Will knew that was exactly why he mustn’t think twice about her crazy suggestion.

  Lucy had loved his brother. She’d been about to marry his brother and have his brother’s baby.

  Did he honestly think he could make amends by stepping in as a substitute?

  The question teased him as he steered the truck over a single lane wooden bridge that crossed Willow Creek. He felt the familiar sickening slug of guilt he always felt when he thought about Josh and remembered the row they had on that last fateful morning before he’d died.

 

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