Jared nodded his expression sombre.
“And that’s why you said that earlier?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Don’t think I’m blaming you for losing your temper. If anyone has just cause to be angry and bitter, you have.”
“Oh Jared,” she breathed distressed. “I never realised she was that upset.”
“Children are very sensitive to atmosphere. Even if we don’t yell and shout at each other she’s been picking up on our underlying dissention. And that’s not good for her.”
“No.” She gave him a helpless look filled with frustration. “What do you suggest we do?”
“I’m not suggesting that you forget Matthew, Winsome. No one has the right to ask any mother to forget a dearly loved child. We can’t go back and change the past and, as we’ve done everything possible to safeguard our future, what do you say we call a truce?”
It was a reasonable suggestion, she thought chewing on her under-lip. Being stressed out and at each other’s throats wasn’t achieving anything.
Jared held out his hand and with a slow, tentative movement she put hers in it.
“Truce.”
Chapter Sixteen
THEIR TRUCE DEVELOPED from a wary unease to quiet camaraderie.
Jared and Winsome worked together through the rest of the winter months, through frosts and freezing temperatures that gave way to rain and mud. They break-fed autumn saved grass and hay to the heifers.
As the days lengthened and periods of warmth were interspersed with the cold, the first spring bulbs flowered bravely defying the fickle weather.
“Spring is coming fast.” Jared sipped coffee as he watched Winsome arrange jonquils in a vase. “They look cheerful and smell good too.”
Winsome inhaled and the sharp sweet scent teased her senses. With a deft movement, she swept the debris off the table and into the rubbish for the compost stepping around Casper as the cat twined around her ankles.
“It can’t get here soon enough,” she said with a grimace. “It will be a treat to be able to hang out the washing and know it’ll get dry.”
“You’ve got a dryer.”
“I know but call me old fashioned, I much prefer my clothes dried in the fresh air.” She glanced at Jared, wondering what he was thinking.
Since the night they’d had that terrible fight there had been a distance, a coolness between them that she couldn’t, or more correctly, wouldn’t try and surmount.
“What is it?” she asked glancing down at her clothes wondering what he was staring at. Had she spilt food down her front or something?
“Lacey asked if she could visit the cemetery.”
Winsome’s heart jerked in her chest and then began to race like a run-away train. “I thought you suggested we put it behind us.”
“I did.” He stood up, walked around the table and put his hands on her shoulders. “But I didn’t say cut him out of our lives. I think it will be good for Lacey to visit her brother.”
It was such a sensible solution that she was surprised she hadn’t thought of it. Lacey was naturally curious about the brother she’d never known. Winsome felt the tug of guilt that she’d never thought of visiting the cemetery with Lacey.
It was selfish, but she wanted to hug this to herself. She looked at Jared, her eyes flooded with tears.
“Hey what’s all this,” he said wiping them away with a thumb. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s nothing you did,” she admitted, with a rueful smile. “My emotions are all over the place the last couple of weeks.”
Winsome was filled with a strange ambivalence as her suspicions for the reason behind the unpredictability of her emotional responses grew stronger every day. The silliest little thing was enough to trigger a bout of tears or make her feel giddy with joy.
The shrewd glint in Jared’s eyes sent heat into her face. ‘Do you think a visit to Clinton is needed? It may be a while, but the symptoms are familiar.”
Winsome looked away unable to meet his shrewd eyes. He put a hand against her hot cheek so she had to meet his eyes.
“You’re not unhappy about it, are you?” The gentle question set her heart thundering.
“No.” she said firm vehemence. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s stupid.”
“If it’s worrying you, it’s not stupid.”
For long tense moments she struggled, trying to put her feelings into words. “I feel it’s wrong. And how silly is that.”
Jared sat in a chairs and pulled her onto his lap. “Do you feel that it’s wrong to have another baby? Or wrong to feel happy about it?”
“Both.” Her eyes flooded with tears. “I was Matthew’s mother, Jared. How could I have let something that bad happen?”
He folded her against him, rocking her as he would rock Lacey. “Did you know Gaelen was going to harm Matthew when you left him with her?”
Winsome stiffened and pushed away from him. “Of course I didn’t.”
“Then how can you be responsible? I was his father, Winsome and I never, once suspected he was in danger. How could you know that day would be any different?”
They couldn’t, she realised.
Winsome rested her head against his chest, His heart beat under her cheek as reassuring as his reasoned words.
“Do you think Matthew would want you to deny yourself all the happiness and joy of another baby just because he’s no longer alive?”
Put like that it did sound rather stupid.
“No I guess not.”
Jared lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, his expression made her heart race. Slowly giving her plenty of time to pull away if she chose, he lowered his head. His mouth found hers. Softly sweetly his lips teased hers coaxing a response.
Winsome’s breathing quickened, and she turned, her hands moving up his throat into his tawny hair. She cradled his head in her hands, a gesture sure and familiar. She pressed against him, her breasts flattening against the harder planes of his chest, her lips parting.
Jared accepted the silent invitation, his tongue slipping inside and seeking out the soft warm places where she’d been lonely too long. He slowly moved away from her mouth and nibbled his way down the side of her neck until he reached the hollow of her shoulder.
Winsome moaned, loving the contact.
“I want nothing more than to take you to bed and kiss every inch of your skin.” Desire gave his deep voice a gravelly edge. “But we have a little girl to collect from kindergarten.”
Winsome opened her eyes and gave him a sultry smile. “It’ll keep.”
“Yeah but I mightn’t.” He claimed her lips in another hard kiss before he slid her off his knee, glancing at his watch. “Let’s have lunch in town and then take Lacey to visit the cemetery?”
“Why do you want to go today?”
“Perhaps, like you, I too would like him to share our moment of joy.” Jared laid a gentle hand on her cheek. “I miss him too, sweetheart.”
“Jared?” Winsome frowned. “I don’t know for sure, it may be a false alarm.”
“Do you want me to lay a bet on it?” He chuckled, the sound thawing the frozen places in her heart. He touched a work-worn fingertip to her nose. “Although I must confess to being a little surprised.”
Winsome didn’t know how to answer.
She hadn’t taken any precautions against pregnancy, nor had she asked Jared to. She was at a loss to explain her actions or in this case lack of them.
Had she secretly yearned for another baby?
Of course, she conceded with wry self- knowledge, she’d wanted Jared’s baby. No other man could touch her soul.
As she looked into his face she knew that slowly but surely, they were rebuilding their relationship.
Hope sat softly in her breast.
Feeling more cheerful than she’d felt in weeks, Winsome hummed under her breath as she showered and dressed. She was applying lip-gloss when Jare
d came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Feeling okay?” he asked softly, his breath warm on her cheeks.
She met his eyes in the mirror, her heart thudding erratically. For some strange reason she felt inordinately shy.
“I want you to be careful. No heavy lifting or anything that could endanger you or our baby.”
Winsome lifted her hand and laid it over the work-roughened hand resting on her shoulder. “I’m always careful, Jared.”
His arms slid over her shoulders to cross over her chest. She met his serious gaze in the mirror.
“I know you are. It was unforgivable what I said that day. I’m so very sorry.”
For long moments they looked into each other’s eyes.
“Gaelen set us both up and then lied, knowing you would draw the conclusions you did,” she said quietly. “She gambled on me being too shocked to protest. You’d been at Levelly all day. How could you know I’d been out? Why wouldn’t you believe her?”
“I should have known you would never let Matthew wander in the garden alone.”
She saw the stark horror of memory in his eyes and turned in his arms and faced him. She lifted her hands and held his face between her palms.
“You were in shock, Jared. Think about it,” she said in a fierce whisper. “We’d just pulled our darling baby from that pond.” She sucked in a quivering breath, her breast rising and falling with pent up emotion. “We saw Matthew dead, Jared. With water running from his mouth and nose, his eyes wide and staring, lily leaves clinging to his lifeless body. Neither of us was capable of rational thinking.”
Jared closed his eyes and a shudder shook his big frame. He opened them and she looked into his soul and saw his torment, his guilt and his anguish.
“I should never have accused you of reading while he drowned.” His whisper was stark and tormented. “I did know better. You were a devoted and conscientious mother.”
“You have to learn to forgive yourself,” she said in a soft, ravaged voice. “Just as I have had to learn to forgive myself. We both made mistakes.”
“We did indeed.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.
“And about that scene in our bedroom, had the tables been turned I would probably have thought the same.”
Jared lifted his head and looked at her. She met his gaze willing him to understand. Time had given her a fresh perspective.
“Would you?” The hope and anguish in his eyes was painful to see.
“In moments of great stress, what we see can be deceptive,” she said laying a gentle hand on his bronzed cheek. “We were both set up by a clever manipulator. I’ve let it go, Jared. And you need to do the same. Let’s go get Lacey, and visit Matthew so he can share this moment, too. Your thoughts are good ones.”
Jared just looked at her for a moment, gathered her close in his arms and held her against his heart in a moment of complete accord, rare and precious.
***
LACEY WAS WAITING for them full of exuberance and high spirits, eager to show off her painting and the farmyard she’d created.
“Look, Daddy,” she said showing him her model. “I made tiny chickens like the ones Mrs Hen has.” Jared hunkered down beside her as she pointed out the other animals. “There’s Daisy and Fly and her puppies. That one’s Bouncer and here’s Casper.”
“That’s marvellous, Lacey.”
Jared dropped Winsome a wink. He was having an uphill battle trying to get Lacey to accept that all Fly’s puppies were going to new homes. Lacey insisted the runt of the litter, a little black dog with one white ear, was Bouncer, and he was hers.
Winsome grinned, already certain of the outcome of this battle of wills.
Jared was having a difficult job denying Lacey anything and she had no intention of playing the heavy parent. He had too much good sense to over–indulge the child.
Lacey bounced around in the back seat until Jared firmly instructed her to sit in her booster seat and do up her seat belt. He refused to start the car until he heard the “click.”
“Would you like to have lunch in town, Lacey?” He looked at her in the rear vision mirror. “Winsome and I would like to have dinner in Stella’s Café. Would you like that?”
“Yay.” Lacey punched the air. “Can we go to the toy shop afterwards?”
“Maybe,” he said with a chuckle. “We want to have a look at some carpet while we’re in town.”
Winsome gave him a startled glance and he gave her a wide grin. “Things are going fine on the farm I thought it would be a good idea to start refurbishing the homestead. How does carpeting those noisy wood floors sound?”
“We could polish them,” Winsome suggested slyly. “And spread a few rugs.”
“You want to do that after a winter living on bare wood floors?” He gave her an incredulous look.
“Gotcha.” She laughed, amused.
Jared chuckled. “They may be fashionable but give me warmth and comfort any day.”
The idea of carpeting those noisy, draughty rooms and passages held infinite appeal. Of all the things Gaelen had stripped from the homestead, the carpet had been the one thing they’d missed the most.
After lunch, Jared and Winsome strolled hand in hand down the main street pausing from time to time as something of interest caught their eye in a shop window.
In the furniture shop they discussed the merits of one carpet versus another. Winsome preferred a dark green sisal-weave while Jared favoured a Berber loop-pile.
“Would you like me to bring out samples and measure and quote on a house lot in both carpets, Mr and Mrs Grainger?” asked the helpful sales assistant.
Jared looked at Winsome and she nodded. “That would be the best way to make a choice.”
The man went and got his appointment book and they settled on a time and date.
As they left the shop, Jared made a droll comment and Winsome laughed. Lacey skipping at Jared’s side clung to his hand.
To observers, they were the perfect couple, young, attractive and obviously affluent and very attentive to the little girl who skipped at their side.
Across the street, their progress was noted by unfriendly eyes.
An intense gaze followed them from shop to shop. She watched the young family as they went into the toyshop and come out a short while later, the little girl clutching a brightly coloured parcel.
When the young woman spoke, the man bent his head, listening attentively. He put an arm around her shoulders and she smiled at him, an intimate bedroom smile that promised sex as its reward.
Watching the young couple, the observer’s hatred welled up, overwhelming and uncontrollable.
“They have everything and I have nothing,” she muttered under her breath. “How dare that little slut usurp my title and position?”
The gleam in her eyes turned crafty.
When the man turned and looked over his shoulder, frowning as he scanned the pedestrians either side of the street, she swiftly slipped into the nearest shop out of sight.
When she re-emerged the little family was gone.
***
AT THE CEMETERY Jared parked in the parking lot. They alighted from the car, each carrying a little posy of flowers.
“Where’s Maffew’s grave, Mummy?” Lacey asked skipping beside the car.
“It’s over here.” Jared steered her in the direction of the children’s cemetery.
Winsome watched, her vision misting as they walked together side-by-side, the little girl and the tall broad-shouldered man. He turned back and held out his hand and she put hers in his and together they walked across the close mown velvet turf, a family unit.
Lacey, wide-eyed, looked around her taking everything in with a child’s natural curiosity.
“Wow, this one got lots of toys, Mummy,” she said as they passed a child’s grave decorated with a multitude of toy trucks and a plastic windmill on a stick arranged around the headstone. “Does he come out and play with the
m?”
“No,” Winsome murmured. “His little friends and family must bring things here on his birthday or other special times.”
Jared walked alongside and they all stopped beside Matthew’s grave. When he stooped down and rubbed a trembling hand over the chill of the granite stone, Winsome knew that he too still grieved.
“Is this Maffew?” Lacey asked, clinging to her mother’s side.
“Yes,” Winsome said in a husky voice as she traced a finger over the carved letters. “Can you read, sweetie. This says Matthew James Grainger, aged one year and three months.”
“He was only a baby,” Lacey said looking from one parent to the other. “Lots littler than me.”
“He was only a little boy,” Jared explained in a gentle voice.
Lacey rubbed her hand over the carved letters feeling them with her fingertips.
“How come Maffew’s got no toys?” she asked worried. “Like the other kids.”
Winsome lifted her hands and let them flutter downwards. How could she explain to the little girl that there seemed no point bringing a dead child toys he could never play with?
“We bring him flowers.” Jared’s deep voice was rough and uneven as he laid his posy of flowers at the base of the headstone beside the flowers Lacey and Winsome had put there.
“Well I’m going to give him some of my toys.” Lacey tilted her head at a determined angle.
Before either of them could stop her she was running back across the car park and tugging at the car door. Winsome went to stand up and go after her but Jared put a hand on her shoulder.
“Leave her. If she wants to share a toy with him and it makes her happy what harm is there in that?”
“None, I suppose,” she said in a shaken whisper.
“That’s what all these other toys are about, Winsome.” He massaged her shoulders with gentle fingers. “They make the visitors feel better. You and I both know it makes no difference to the children buried here, but it helps the relatives.”
Lacey came running back with the package of barnyard toys she’d asked Jared to buy her at the toy shop. She opened the packet and sat down on the turf trying to decide which ones she was going to leave with her brother.
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