by Unknown
She was feeling just a little bit sick.
Actually, now she came to think about it, she felt a lot sick. Her body was taking over from her mind.
Ben must be able to see it. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said sharply, but she waved him back.
‘Just baby,’ she said. ‘Making its presence felt.’ It’s telling me what it thinks of your stupid proposition, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. Her gorgeous day was spoiled.
He’d thrown her a sensible proposition to keep two loners staying as such. Why did it make her feel old and grey and ill? More and more ill.
‘Leave me be for a moment,’ she told him.
‘Mary...’
‘Leave me be.’
She had no choice. She could no longer face him.
She disappeared into the woods as fast as physical necessity dictated.
* * *
His first impulse was to follow. She was ill. She shouldn’t be alone.
But, then, being alone was her right. Being alone was what his proposition was all about.
Except it wasn’t. She’d be his wife. He’d be responsible for her—and for his child.
It freaked him out a bit, but he’d get used to the idea. He wouldn’t get close enough to hurt them.
There was the rub. He’d been brought up in a household where sentimentality was exploited to ruthless effect. You protected yourself any way possible. You didn’t get fond of nannies because they left—in fact, his father had come into his bedroom one night and found his nanny giving the twins a hug goodnight and the next day she was gone.
‘I won’t have any woman making my sons soft.’
There had been no softness in their house. His father had protected himself with his money and his power. His mother had manipulated him with emotion. She’d protected herself with her acting, and Jake had learned to do the same.
The one night his mother’s acting had become reality, when he hadn’t seen the difference, she’d died.
In time Ben had developed his own armour. He wasn’t ruthless like his father. He didn’t act. He simply held himself to himself.
The sight of Mary, shocked and ill, twisted something inside that hurt, but he knew that pushing to get closer wouldn’t help. He’d help Mary practically but if she learned to rely on him emotionally he’d let her down.
He didn’t know not to.
Raising a child... What had she said? You don’t have to stand above and pull.
He didn’t have a clue about child-raising. He only knew that he couldn’t bear the thought of Mary going back to New Zealand.
Of Mary not having his resources available to her.
Of Mary being alone?
She was alone now.
She was ill. She wouldn’t want him. She was a loner, just like he was.
So he forced himself to wait, packing the picnic gear, loading the kayak, making sure the site showed no traces of their stay. That’s why he loved this place. He made no impression on it. It stood as it had stood for centuries, a place of solitude and peace.
It was a place where a man could be totally alone.
Except he wasn’t alone now. Mary, was only yards away, being ill—because she was carrying his child.
Enough. The catering company who’d provided their lunch had provided napkins. He soaked a couple in the clear river water, and went to find her. He met her at the edge of the clearing. Whatever had happened was over. She looked wan and shaken and that same twist of his heart happened all over again.
He wanted to take her into his arms. He wanted to take her into his heart.
He didn’t know how to.
For some reason he kept thinking of the night his nanny had been fired. Maggie was a loud, boisterous Australian. She’d bounced into their lives and she’d kept up with all the devilry he and Jake had thrown at her and more. For a while their lives had been fun.
Had he loved her? Maybe he’d started to, but one hug and she was gone.
He remembered his mother saying, ‘Keep your emotions to yourselves, boys. I’m tired of interviewing nannies.’ That was good, coming from his mother.
But if he fell for Mary...
Enough. He was putting neither of them at risk. Instead of hugging her, he proffered the napkins. Practical-R-Us.
‘Thank you,’ she said dully. ‘And thank you for the proposal. It was well meant but I don’t want it.’
‘Why not?’
The question hung. She looked at him, just looked, and it was as if she was seeing everything he had to offer—and found it wanting.
‘Because I’m not alone by choice,’ she snapped. ‘Because I love my community. I love my job and my roller-derby team and my dog. I love them. You don’t get that, Ben, because you don’t understand what love is, but I understand it. You’re offering me a part of your world but that involves loneliness forever.’
She softened then, and the look she gave him was one of sympathy. Sympathy! No one offered Ben Logan sympathy but there it was.
‘Ben, I know what love is,’ she said, her voice bleak and flat. ‘For a while I had my mum and my dad. I had my town and I had people who loved me. And it’s precious. I know how precious is it, so I’ll fight to get it back. Maybe I won’t succeed but I’ll try. Thank you for your offer. I understand how much it’s taken to offer even so little of yourself but, Ben, I’m greedy. I want more and you aren’t offering more. You can come and see us whenever you want. We’ll work something out with our baby, but for now I want to go home.
* * *
Monday.
Her plane left at midday. She needed to be at the airport at ten. A cab might take an hour.
Therefore she stayed in her bedroom until nine. She hadn’t slept all night but she was staying put. Ben knocked at seven, but she didn’t answer. He’d knocked so lightly she could easily have been asleep—and how could she face him?
Marriage...staying here with Ben... In a way it was a siren call. She could stay here and hope. But hope was all she’d have, she thought. She’d be aching for him to want her. She’d be aching for him to be a part of her, and that wasn’t what he was offering.
She’d be risking what had happened with her father. Loving a man and watching him turn away.
Nine o’clock. It was time to go. She needed to walk out without looking back.
Maybe Ben wouldn’t even be here, she thought, not sure whether to hope or not. Maybe the knock on the door at seven had been to say goodbye.
Leaden hearted, she zipped her bag closed, gazed around the stupid cool grey room one last time, and walked out.
Ben was at the kitchen bench. A leather duffel was sitting by the door. A large duffel.
‘H-hi,’ she managed. Keep it simple, she told herself. Get it over with and ignore that bag. ‘Could you call me a cab?’
‘You need breakfast. You ate nothing last night and you lost your lunch.’
‘I’ll get something at the airport.’
‘Eat here,’ he growled.
‘I don’t have time.’
‘Seeing the jet leaves when I say it leaves, you have all the time in the world.’
‘R-right,’ she managed. ‘You’ll ring the airline and say hold that plane?’
‘I’ve organised our own jet.’
‘You’ve...’ She gasped. ‘You’ve what?’
‘Jake’s in New Zealand, finishing up the movie he’s working on. I’m therefore killing two birds with one stone. Seeing Jake. Taking you home.’
‘In your dreams,’ she said faintly.
He rose and headed to the other side of the bench. ‘Toast?’ he asked. ‘One slice or two? No, make that two slices or three?’
She was hungry, she conceded. Morning sickness was a myth—it wa
shed over her at any time it felt like it. Right now it was in abeyance and her stomach was telling her it was time to stock up.
But not at the expense of missing her plane.
‘I’ll have breakfast at the airport,’ she told him, heading for the door. ‘I’ll hail my own cab.’
‘So you’ll sit in cattle class while I travel in luxury?’
‘That’s crazy. Flying your own jet all the way to New Zealand...just for one person.’
‘Two if you come with me. That cuts our carbon footprint in half.’
‘You have to be joking.’
‘I’m not joking,’ he said, and smiled at her, and, oh, that smile... She was wobbly anyway. That smile made her even more wobbly.
Maybe she needed to sit down.
‘I’m...independent,’ she managed.
‘I know you are,’ he agreed. ‘That’s one of the things I admire about you. But there’s independent and there’s pig stubborn. Come with me and you’ll have your own bed, all the way to New Zealand.’
That caught her as nothing else could have. She still felt vaguely unwell. She’d flown over wedged between an overweight businessman and a harried mother who’d treated Mary as a free babysitter.
‘My own...what?’ she said cautiously.
‘You heard. Full-size bed, with pillow menu.’
‘You’re kidding.’
He knew he had her. She could see it. His eyes got that twinkle she was starting to know, the one that said he was getting his own way. ‘Pillows,’ he said, like it was a siren call, and, oh, it was. ‘I’d go for the double-size goosedown, with the neat Logan insignia on the pillowcase. Very classy.’
‘It’s a Logan plane?’
‘Of course.’ The toast popped. He flipped it onto a plate. ‘Marmalade?’
She should get out of here. He’d clearly lost his mind.
Double-size goosedown...
‘We provide pyjamas, too,’ he added helpfully.
‘It’s not a double bed?’ She was still trying to get her head around what he was offering, but her words came out as pure suspicion.
He grinned. ‘You think I’d pay for a jet to fly to New Zealand just so I could get you back into bed?’
‘I wouldn’t put it past you.’
‘The plane has full-size beds. One at either end of the plane.’
‘How big’s the plane?
‘Big enough for you to jump me if you change your mind.’ The twinkle grew.
‘Ben...’
‘I know.’ His smile receded, but not far. ‘You won’t change, but, Mary, I can do so little. I respect your independence—of course I do—but allow me to make one last gesture. Let me take you home.’
And what was a girl to say? He stood there, smiling with that beguiling smile that would have caused harder hearts than hers to soften.
He didn’t do the heart thing. She’d figured that. He was a man who kept himself apart and would continue to do so.
After he’d taken his private jet to New Zealand.
After she’d let him take her home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE THOUGHT SHE might talk to him during the flight. He thought he might even use the time to get her to change her mind.
Instead, she walked onto the plane, he showed her the bedroom set-up she could use and he lost her.
She looked at the piled pillows, the fluffy duvet, the magazines, the crystal glassware ready to be filled with anything she needed...
She yawned and smiled apologetically at Ben and the steward who accompanied them.
‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘This is the stuff of dreams, and that’s exactly where I’m going.’
So she slept, ensconced in privacy at her end of the plane. She didn’t emerge.
Ben had also thought he might get some work done. He sat in front of his laptop and figures blurred.
He thought about independence and how much he valued it. He thought if he valued it, the least he could do was grant it to Mary.
He thought about Mary.
* * *
He’d arranged a car to be waiting at Auckland airport. Of course he had, Mary thought. It was a wonder it wasn’t a limousine with chauffeur in attendance.
‘I can catch a bus,’ she said, but she was no longer in control.
‘A four-hour bus journey? I don’t think so. Why don’t they have airports in Taikohe?’
‘Because it’s tiny. Ben, I’m fine. I’m nice and rested.’
‘I’m not. Do you have a couch?’
‘I...’
‘I’ll drive you home, stay overnight and head back tomorrow to see Jake.’
‘You really do have it all planned.’
‘I even have my international driving licence. Trust me?’
‘No.’
‘You want me to stay somewhere else?’
He’d paid for a jet to bring her all the way home. Maybe she could manage a sofa for the night. ‘Fine.’
‘Mary?
‘Yes?’
‘I’m not threatening your independence.’
‘Believe it or not, that’s not what this is about,’ she told him. ‘But it’s okay, Ben. I accept your offer to drive me home and I won’t threaten your independence either.’
* * *
To say Heinz was delighted to see her was an understatement. They arrived at her sparse little cottage and Mary had barely reached the front door before there was a hoy from the house next door and Heinz was tearing across the yard to meet her.
Mary fell to her knees, scooped him up and hugged him like she’d been away for months, letting him lick her. She even cried a little.
Over a dog?
But she meant it, Ben thought, remembering his mother’s orchestrated emotion.
How did he know these tears were real?
He knew.
A middle-aged woman in farm-type overalls and mucky boots followed Heinz in. She enveloped Mary and dog in a bear hug and then turned to greet Ben. ‘Hi,’ she said, and stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Mary’s next-door neighbour, Kath. And you are?’
At least Mary had a neighbour, Ben thought. Mary’s cottage was about a mile out of town but at least there was someone within calling distance. It should make him feel better, but it didn’t.
‘This is Ben, the guy I was stuck on the island with in the cyclone,’ Mary said, emerging from Heinz’s frenzied greeting. ‘He’s why I had to go overseas. I had to tell him I was pregnant.’
What followed was deep, uncompromising silence. Kath looked at him from the toes up, and then all the way down again.
‘Pregnant,’ she said at last.
‘Yep.’
‘Does your family know?’
‘Not yet. You can spread it around if you want. They’ll hear it in two minutes in this place.’
‘You sure?’
‘I’m sure I’m pregnant. The town might as well know.’
Ben was forgotten. Kath was staring at Mary, appalled. ‘Mary, love, your stepmother and sisters will kill you. Sunrise’s still blaming you for losing her baby. She’ll say you’ve done it to spite her. You know your family. It’s all about them. They’ll have kittens.’
‘I don’t think it’ll be that bad.’
‘You know it will be.’ But the woman checked Ben out again, and finally she began to smile. ‘But you brought your guy home?’
‘He brought me home.’
And the woman faced him square on. ‘You staying? She’ll need you.’
To say he was taken aback was an understatement. First, Mary hadn’t told her next-door neighbour about her pregnancy before she’d left. Second, she was telling her now, and inviting her to share the news. She was
telling the neighbourhood her business.
Why not? Did he want her to stay independent?
He wasn’t sure what he wanted.
And, third, what the woman was saying was blunt and to the point.
She’ll need you.
‘He’s not staying,’ Mary said brusquely, pushing open the door. ‘Or not more than a night. I don’t need him. But thanks for caring for Heinz.’
‘I have a casserole in the fridge. I’ll bring it over.’
‘I have stuff in the freezer. I’ll be right on my own.’
‘Mary, love...’
‘Ben’s staying tonight,’ Mary told her. ‘So I won’t be eating baked beans by myself. And tomorrow I need to go back to work and get on with my life.’
* * *
He lay on her made-up-into-a-bed settee and stared into the night. The silence here was so deep it made him feel nervous. Somewhere outside a plover was making an occasional call to a distant mate, but there was nothing else. Nothing and nothing and nothing.
He was leaving her at the ends of the earth.
He thought the first time he’d seen her, on Hideaway Island, retreating even from this quiet place. She’d come back, though. She’d returned from her retreat and faced her world again. She was telling the world she was pregnant. She was facing them all down.
Her courage was breathtaking. He’d thought he was a loner but Mary had made it a life skill.
But still she needed...
Him?
Support, he thought. Someone to watch her back. Like him and Jake. For the last few years they’d gone their own ways, but they knew they were always there for each other.
Until now. He wasn’t sure what Jake thought. The moments in the life raft had changed things.
They’d made him see how alone he really was.
But Mary needed him.
Three words kept blasting through his mind, refusing to let him sleep. She needs me.
How did she need him?
To face the community on her behalf? He suspected she had the courage to do that all by herself.
To whisk her off to New York and cosset her and keep her safe?
She wouldn’t have it.
To just...be with her?