“But why didn’t she tell us?” Harry asked, eyes streaming. Sophie was sobbing now too, more quietly, and Finn looked at the pair of them, not knowing what to do.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “But I’ll talk to her soon, and find out. She loves you both. She’ll be back to see you, I’m sure of it.” Even if she didn’t want to see him, he knew, she’d never leave Sophie and Harry like this. Not for good.
Finally, he had the kids settled. He parked them in front of a DVD, moved into his bedroom and sank down on the bed, pulled Jenna’s note out of his pocket and unfolded it.
Finn,
I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye to Sophie and Harry. Please tell them I had an emergency, and that I love them and will see them soon, if that’s OK with you. And that I’ll post their Christmas presents to them. This isn’t their fault, and they need to know that. Please tell them so, for now. That’s what they’ll be worried about, especially Sophie.
I’ll contact you later to make plans. If you’d rather I talk to your lawyer instead, let me know. I will of course make the baby available for any paternity testing you or your lawyer think is necessary. I wish I didn’t have to ask you for maintenance, but I will, after the baby’s born. I have some money saved, but a teacher’s salary only goes so far.
I hope you’ll want to be part of this baby’s life, and I’ll do everything I can to make that possible. I know you wouldn’t have given Sophie up, even though she wasn’t what you’d planned. You’re a great dad, and I hope you can find it in your heart to be that dad to this baby too.
You don’t have to worry that I’ll talk about this to anyone. It doesn’t reflect well on me, I know. It was the wrong thing to do, but I can’t be sorry about the baby. I hope, eventually, you won’t be sorry either.
Jenna
He read it through once, twice. Folded it in half and set it down next to him, picked it up again and read it a third time. Every sentence seemed to slice at him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears of pain and guilt. Had he really asked her if the baby was his?
Where was she now? Where had she gone? She was sick, and alone. He pushed back the fear, picked up his mobile to ring her. It went straight to voicemail.
“Jenna. This is Finn. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m worried about you. Ring me. Please.”
He hesitated, then rang off. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to be ringing. Where would she have gone? He couldn’t think. The holidays were coming up. Even if she had a job for the next term, it wouldn’t be starting until late January. Some kind of temporary post? She’d been working in a café before she’d come to him, and this was summer, the busiest season. She could be anywhere.
A Bull’s Roar
Jenna reached into the huge laundry basket for another sheet, pegged it onto the line. Her back was aching again. She liked the idea of hanging out the washing, but found herself wishing, just this once, for a dryer.
The wind whipped one end of the heavy, wet fabric out of her hand, and she exclaimed in frustration and grabbed for it as Sarah approached.
“Jenna. I wanted to ask …” Sarah stopped, staring at Jenna’s midsection, the blouse pulled against her body by the wind as she stretched to re-peg the errant sheet.
“What?” Jenna looked over, then faltered at the expression on Sarah’s face.
“Suddenly, everything’s becoming very clear to me,” Sarah said slowly. “Finn’s, I assume.”
Jenna flushed, bent to the basket for another sheet to hide her confusion. “Yes.”
“Does he know?”
Jenna laughed humorlessly, pegged the sheet to the line. “Oh, yeah. He knows.”
Sarah frowned. “And he turfed you out? That doesn’t sound like Finn. Besides, seemed to me he was fair gone on you.”
“No.” Jenna forced herself to answer honestly. “He didn’t actually throw me out. But I didn’t have much choice, either. Because you’re wrong about that. Sure, he wanted me to take care of his kids. He liked me as a nanny just fine. And he wanted to have sex with me. He sure wanted that. That’s what you were seeing. But that was it. He doesn’t want either one of us now. He made his feelings pretty clear, trust me.” She brushed the sudden tears away. “Stupid hormones,” she muttered. “I know he’s your brother. Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear this.”
“He let you go, just like that? Without any help? Sarah asked, outraged.
“I didn’t ask. I left. Don’t worry,” Jenna hastened to assure her. “I’m sure he’ll do his duty, pay the maintenance. And meanwhile, I’m fine. I can take care of both of us, thanks to you. Just don’t tell him I’m with you, OK? You promised, remember.”
“I didn’t know then, though,” Sarah answered slowly. “Just thought you’d parted on bad terms, and needed to start the job a bit earlier. This is different. I won’t go out of my way to tell him, but if he asks me, I’m not going to lie.”
Jenna nodded. “That’s fair. I can’t see why he’d ask anyway. And it’s not for that long. It’s almost Christmas already. Another few weeks, and I’ll head back up to Auckland for the start of the term and the new post. I’ll be getting in touch with him then—or his lawyer, I guess. Seeing the kids too, if he’s OK with that. That’ll take you out of the middle. Sorry to put you there in the first place, but I didn’t know what else to do. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there, not once I knew how he felt about me.”
“I’m not too comfortable with this,” Sarah said. “But since that’s my niece or nephew in there, and my dill of a brother hasn’t stepped up, I’m glad I have you here where I can keep an eye on you. I’m shifting you, though,” she decided, coming over and taking the other end of the heavy sheet. “I don’t want you cleaning the cabins anymore. You’re working in the office with me.”
“I’m feeling much better now,” Jenna protested. “Everyone’s right when they say the second trimester’s easier. The sickness is finally going away. I’ve even gained a kilo.”
“After losing, what?” Sarah looked her over critically. “I’ve noticed.”
“Four. But I’m much better now,” Jenna added hastily. “Not as tired, either. I can clean. I don’t mind.”
“The office,” Sarah told her firmly. “Starting tomorrow.”
* * *
“So how’re you coping, on your own with the kids?” Sarah asked three days later, standing in the kitchen of her comfortable home and arranging leftover ham from Christmas Eve tea in a plastic container.
Finn shrugged heavily. “Not too bad. Nyree’s cousin Miriam’s been helping a bit. And Nyree’ll be back after the New Year.”
“I didn’t realize Jenna was leaving so soon,” Sarah ventured. “I’d thought she was staying on another week.”
“Yeh. Well.” Finn finished scraping the plates, pulled the rubbish bag out of the bin and tied it shut with a few quick movements, shook out a new bag and lined the bin again. “Something happened.”
“Oh? Must have been something pretty big, to make her leave the kids. They’re still teary about it. I thought she was attached to them. Yet they don’t seem to have talked to her since she left.”
“It was,” he admitted. “Pretty big, I mean. My fault. I said some things.”
“What kind of things?” Sarah probed.
“D’you have to be such a bloody stickybeak?” he flashed. “Bad things, all right? The wrong things. Wish I could take them back, but I can’t find her to do it.”
Sarah turned, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and leaned against the bench to face him. “What happened, baby brother? I just watched your kids crying over their Christmas tea, and you look awful. So tell me. What did you do? I thought you fancied her. Is that it?”
“Fancied her? Yeh, you could put it like that. Or you could say that I fancied her so much she fell pregnant, and I didn’t find out till I got back from the Tour. And that I was a bloody fool when I did find out, made her think I didn’t want her or the baby, drove her
away. And that I’ve been trying to get her back ever since, and I haven’t come within a bull’s roar of it. And that I don’t bloody well know what else to do, or I’d be doing it,” he finished defiantly, his voice rising until he was almost shouting.
He wrenched the kitchen door open, and Sarah heard the clatter as he threw the rubbish bag into the wheelie bin with unnecessary violence, then watched him come back into the kitchen and sink down on a chair, his head in his hands.
“Shit, Sarah,” he went on, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried ringing her, emailing her, but she’s changed her accounts. I rang her friends and asked them. But if they know where she is, they aren’t telling me. I even paid someone to look for her. Nothing. She’s disappeared, and I don’t know how to find her. And I’m so worried about her by now, I’m useless. Wandering round like a stunned mullet.”
“Do you think she won’t let you see the baby?” she asked cautiously. “That she’ll leave, go back to the States, maybe? Is that what you’re worried about?”
“Nah. She wouldn’t do that. Nothing to go back to, from what I know. Anyway, she’ll do the right thing. She always does. But she was feeling so crook. And now she’s out there somewhere, working too hard, thinking I didn’t care, thinking she has to do this alone.”
“But did you care?” Sarah pressed. “That’s what I don’t understand. Did you care then? Do you now? I know you care about the baby,” she hurried on. “And I can see how guilty you feel. But what about Jenna? Do you care about her? Do you want her, setting the baby aside, setting your kids aside? And if you do, why on earth wouldn’t she know that?”
“Because I never told her so,” he admitted wretchedly. “I was just going along, enjoying things. Didn’t occur to me to say anything. And then, when I did, I said … I pretty much said the opposite, I reckon. But I can’t make it right if I can’t find her.”
“Well, if she’s going to let you see the baby, if she’s going to ask you for maintenance, she’s going to have to contact you sometime,” Sarah pointed out reasonably. “Why don’t you wait till she does, then tell her what’s on your mind?”
“What about in the meantime?” he demanded. “She’s alone, nobody to take care of her, nothing to fall back on. I can’t let her keep on like that, when it’s my job to look after her.”
“Why?” Sarah asked bluntly. “Besides the baby. Why?”
He stared at her. “Because I love her, of course.”
She exhaled with relief. “How long have we been talking here? How long did it take you to say it? A word of advice, baby brother. When you do see her again, when she does talk to you, lead with that.”
Over the Counter
“Why are we going to the holiday park?” Sophie asked, looking out the car window as they neared Motueka. “I thought we were going to the beach. And that’s the other way.”
“Auntie Sarah asked us to pop by, said she had another Chrissie pressie for you,” Finn told her. “She wanted to give it to you today, on Christmas. And she can’t leave the park, she says. Hardly anyone working today.”
“What kind of pressie?” Sophie wondered. “She already gave us our pressies yesterday.”
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “But you want it, don’t you?”
“I want Jenna,” Harry said stubbornly from behind him. “That’s what I want for Christmas, Dad. I want Jenna back. I told you, and I told Santa. And I didn’t get it. But I still want it. Please, Dad.”
“She told us.” Sophie looked across at her brother in exasperation. “She’s on a trip. She wrote to us and sent us our pressies, and she said she’d see us soon.”
“I don’t want to see her soon,” Harry said, the tears starting again. “I want to see her now.”
“You love Nyree, though,” Finn protested. “And she’s coming back in the New Year. I know your old Dad isn’t much chop,” he tried to joke, “but I’ve been doing my best. And soon you’ll have Nyree cooking for you again.”
“Nyree doesn’t understand like Jenna. She doesn’t discuss like Jenna.”
“You’ll hurt her feelings, if you tell her that,” Finn warned. “You don’t want to do that.”
Harry sniffed, ran his arm under his nose to wipe it. “OK. I won’t say.”
“Here we are,” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he pulled into the holiday park’s big carpark, nearly full now. “Let’s see what that pressie’s all about, and then we’ll be off to the beach.”
He grabbed Harry’s hand and kept Sophie close to him for the walk across the carpark, leaving the summer heat as they stepped into the air-conditioned office. Sarah looked up and smiled briefly at them, then turned back to the French couple she was checking in at the long counter.
“Can you fix my strap, Dad?” Sophie asked, trying to reach the twisted neck tie of her sundress. “It’s gone wonky.”
Finn crouched down, began to work at the knot, feeling clumsy and awkward.
“Jenna!” Harry shrieked. Finn looked up fast to see Jenna coming out of the back office. His eyes met hers in mutual shock. He registered Harry rushing forward toward the counter separating them even as he watched Jenna sway, her face going white, a hand reaching out and finding only air.
“Shit.” In the next instant, he was vaulting the wooden counter, grabbing her as she fell, looking around for a chair and pushing her into it, a hand at the back of her head.
“Put your head between your knees,” he ordered. “Breathe.”
He dropped to a knee in front of her, his hand still on the back of her head, and glared up at his sister. She and the French couple were staring at him, mouths open, while his children jumped up and down in front of the high counter, trying to see across it.
“What were you thinking, giving her a shock like that?” he demanded angrily. “You know she’s pregnant!”
“Sorry,” Sarah told him with a satisfied smile. “Reckon she needs someone to look after her better than I have been.”
“Are you all right?” he asked belatedly, realizing his hand was still on the back of Jenna’s head. He removed it hastily. “Jenna. Talk to me. Are you all right?”
She sat up, swayed again. “Oh. Maybe …”
His hand went back to her head again, pushed it gently down. “Another minute,” he told her. “Hang on. Glass of water.” He looked around at Sarah again. She obligingly pulled a water bottle out of a small fridge under the counter, handed it to him.
“Dad! Dad!” Harry called. “We want to see Jenna!”
“Dad,” Sophie chimed in. “Let us come back there. Auntie Sarah, please. We want to see Jenna.”
“Excuse me,” one of the French tourists said with exasperation. “May we check in now?”
“Hang on a tick,” Sarah told them absently. “Half a mo, kids. I think your dad has a few things to say to Jenna first.” She made an urgent motion with her head at Finn.
“Jenna,” he said, still kneeling, handing her the water bottle and watching her lift her head to take a careful sip. “You’ve been here, all this time?”
She nodded, and he exhaled in relief. “I’ve been miserable as a shag, worrying about you,” he told her. “How’re you feeling? Has that been happening? The fainting?”
“Lightheaded sometimes, that’s all. I’m all right, really. It was just … the shock. I didn’t know you were here. Sarah didn’t say.”
“Sarah didn’t say a fair few things,” he said grimly, shooting his sister a glare. “Might have saved us both some misery if she had.”
“Oi,” Sarah objected. “Got you here today, didn’t I?” She jerked her head at him again. “Go,” she mouthed.
He took a deep breath, took Jenna’s hand. “Now that I’ve found you, I need to tell you. I need to ask you to come back to me. Please. I know I did everything wrong when you told me. I didn’t mean what I said. Please come back. Please give me the chance to make it up to you.”
She was already shaking her head. “No, Finn. I startled
the truth out of you, that’s all. I needed to know how you really felt about me. Now I do.”
“But that isn’t how I feel! I need you, Jenna. You have to believe me.”
“Too right,” Sarah pointed out helpfully. “I’ve never seen a man look more pathetic. Please, put him out of his misery. It’s more than a sister can bear.”
“D’you mind?” Finn scowled at her. “Trying to propose here.”
“And you’re making dog tucker of it,” Sarah said. “What did I tell you to say?”
“Maybe if I could get a bit of privacy, I could do better,” he said in exasperation.
“All this is very affecting,” the Frenchman complained. “But we’d like to check in. We’ve been waiting long enough.”
“Here.” Sarah thrust the key at them, together with a map of the park. “Cabin 18. Sorry. I’ll come see you in a bit, make sure you’re sorted. But we have a … family emergency here, as you can see.”
She ushered them to the door, flipped the sign to Closed. “Come on, kids. Let’s go get an ice cream.”
“Then can we see Jenna?” Harry pleaded.
“First ice cream, then Jenna,” Sarah promised. “Let’s go.” She turned back to Finn, gave him a thumbs-up, closed the door firmly behind her and turned the key in the lock.
“Jenna,” Finn said as he heard the door shut at last behind the others. “I’m trying to ask you to marry me here. Trying to tell you I love you, and I need you with me.”
“No,” she told him sadly. “I can’t. I married somebody once who didn’t really love me. Not in the right way, the way it should be. I’m not going to make that mistake again. If I ever get married again, it’ll be to somebody who wants me and needs me for myself. You don’t have to marry me to see your baby. I won’t keep that from you. I’ll stay in Auckland, and we’ll work it out. I promise.”
“Damn it, I’m not asking you for the baby!” he exploded. “I want the baby,” he went on hastily. “But I need you. I’m so selfish, I don’t want you for the baby, or my kids, or anything else, even though all those things matter too. I want you because you make my life so much better. Because I can’t imagine living the rest of it without you. And because ever since you left, I’ve been wandering round thinking about you, worrying about you. Because even when I was on tour, I wanted you with me. Why d’you think I rang you every night? Because I missed you so much. I don’t know what else to say,” he ran down at last. “That’s everything I have. I love you, and I’m asking you to marry me. If I had a ring, I’d be pulling it out now. I don’t even have that. All I have is my heart, but that’s yours.”
Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances Page 79