Bridge to Nowhere

by Yvonne Whittal

  Megan was in the grip of a sudden and inexplicable tension when a moth darted down between them only to swoop up again towards the spotlight. The sound of its wings fluttering against the glass casing shattered that brief, intense silence in the room, but it also jarred her nerves, and forced her to pull herself together.

  'When a man talks about settling down it usually means that he's thinking of getting married and having a family, but for you it must mean something quite the opposite,' she observed drily, lacing her fingers together in her lap.

  'Hm…yes.' His smile deepened with mockery. 'I've been considering the possibility of starting my own private harem.'

  'That sounds true to form,' she laughed mirthlessly, and Chad's eyes narrowed to speculative slits.

  'If I offered you the position of first lady of the harem, would you accept?'

  'No, I wouldn't, thank you very much,' she responded stiffly.

  'Pity,' he murmured, his mouth curving in a lazy, sensuous smile. 'You're a power-house of suppressed passion, which I have every intention of exploring at some future date because I believe we'd be good together.'

  A wave of embarrassed heat surged into Megan's cheeks, and she lowered her gaze hastily. 'I'm sorry I started this conversation.'

  'I'm not.'

  Chad was enjoying her discomfiture, and she could almost hate him for it when everything inside her seemed to be caught up in a vice of misery. 'It's getting late,' she said, rising jerkily to her feet.

  'Yes, it's getting late, and you want to get on with your work,' he announced with a surprising amiability as he drew in his feet and stood up. 'When are you returning to Izilwane?'

  'Next Monday,' she replied, her back turned resolutely towards him until she had time to school her features, but Chad's hands were on her shoulders, his touch setting fire to her skin as he turned her relentlessly to face him.

  'Perhaps we could meet for lunch in the restaurant on Monday,' he suggested, his glance a warm, exciting caress trailing across the delicate contours of her face and lingering on her soft, quivering mouth.

  'I'd like that,' she managed, the suffocating pace of her heart making it difficult to speak.

  Chad's hands tightened on her shoulders, warning her of his intentions, but her treacherous limbs refused to obey the messages relayed from her brain, and she found herself trapped helplessly against the length of his hard male body. His warm mouth shifted over hers, stifling her protests and demanding a response from her which she was determined to withhold, but her resistance crumbled once again like a house of cards collapsing in the breeze.

  'You frighten me, Chad,' she whispered shakily when he finally eased his mouth from hers.

  She buried her flushed face against his broad chest, inhaling the clean male smell of him and hating herself for being so weak, but his fingers were beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  'You have nothing to fear, Megan.' Mockery mingled with the smoky desire in those pale grey eyes probing hers. 'I gave you my word that I wouldn't push you into something which you're not ready for, but that doesn't stop me wanting to hold you and kiss you and touch you…like this.'

  His demonstration left her breathless and trembling and more than a little dishevelled. 'I doubt if I shall ever be ready for what you have in mind,' she said, restoring a certain amount of order to her appearance, but her treacherous body was saying exactly the opposite.

  'I know I can make you want me, and that's a start.'

  Megan could not argue with that. Chad had the ability to make her want him, and she could so very easily give herself to him, but in doing so she knew she would be following that road which led to nowhere.

  'I think you'd better go,' she whispered, her aching throat warning her that she was perilously close to tears, and the last thing she wanted was to weep in front of Chad.

  A muscle leapt in his jaw, and his sensuous mouth tightened into a thin, hard line. 'You're right, I'd better go.'

  He turned on his heel, striding out of the studio, and Megan followed him in silence. He was angry, and so was she, but her anger was directed at fate for making her fall in love with a man who would simply use her and cast her aside.

  'I'll see you at lunch on Monday, and we'll make that one o'clock,' he said, his expression inscrutable when he met her glance for a brief moment.

  'I'll be there,' she promised, and then he was striding out to where he had parked his Porsche beneath the street light.

  Megan closed the door after he had driven away and returned to her studio with its familiar smell of paint and turps. For some obscure reason she felt emotionally raw and bruised, and she sat down heavily on the stool in front of the easel to stare at the half-finished painting on the easel. The carefree laughter on the children's faces seemed to mock her ruthlessly, and a terrifying wave of pain and helpless rage surged through her.

  'Oh, why did it have to be Chad?' she groaned, closing her eyes in a physical attempt to shut out the pain searing through her. 'If I had to fall in love, then why couldn't it have been with someone less complicated?'

  She sighed tiredly and draped a cloth over the painting on the easel. It was futile to think she could continue where she had left off earlier that evening when Chad arrived. Her mental rhythm had been disrupted, and all she wanted at that moment was to curl up somewhere to mourn the loss of something which never had, and never would, belong to her.

  Megan's return to Izilwane was delayed. Her car refused to start on the Monday morning. The engine coughed and spluttered when she turned the key in the ignition, and then it simply petered out. It seemed to take ages before the mechanic arrived with the tow truck and, after a brief inspection of the Mazda's engine, Megan was warned that the repairs might take several hours.

  'It's important that I have my car returned to me by twelve-thirty,' she wailed anxiously at the mechanic, remembering her luncheon appointment with Chad.

  'We'll do our best, Miss O'Brien,' he promised before he towed her Mazda away.

  Megan spent the morning pacing the floor in agitation and, much to her mother's amusement, she was all but chewing her fingernails when the telephone rang at noon that day.

  'We apologise for the delay, Miss O'Brien,' said the workshop manager. 'We had difficulty in finding the fault, but your car will be delivered to you at one o'clock sharp.'

  Megan had never felt so frustrated in all her life. She wanted to scream, but she knew it would not help, and she merely thanked the workshop manager politely before she replaced the receiver.

  'What do I do now?' she asked of no one in particular.

  'I don't know why you've been in such a hellish rush all morning to return to Izilwane.' Vivien eyed her daughter reprovingly. 'You know you have nothing to worry about while you have Dorothy to take care of things for you in the shop.'

  Megan told her mother the truth out of sheer frustration. 'I have a luncheon appointment at one o'clock with Chad.'

  'Oh, I see.' Vivien's expression cleared with understanding. 'Well, in that case, you'd better let Chad know that you've been unavoidably delayed.'

  'He now has a private line to his office in the veterinary building, and I don't have his number.'

  'The telecommunication department at the Post Office will give you his number.'

  Of course! Megan could have kicked herself at that moment. If she had not been so rattled she might have thought of that herself, and she calmed herself with an effort.

  'I'm afraid Dr McAdam isn't in the building at the moment,' Chad's secretary informed her a few minutes later in her charmingly husky voice. 'May I know who is speaking?'

  'Megan O'Brien.'

  There was a brief pause, then Glenys Gibson said, 'Could I give him a message, Miss O'Brien?'

  'Yes, please.' Megan brushed aside her disappointment and hastily collected her thoughts. 'I would appreciate it if you would tell him that I've had problems with my car, and that I'll be a little late for our luncheon appointment.'

  'I'll
pass on your message as soon as Dr McAdam comes in,' Glenys assured her, and Megan sighed audibly as she put down the phone.

  'You can relax now.'

  Megan smiled at her mother, but she knew she would not relax entirely until she was seated across the table from Chad.

  The Mazda was delivered to the house in the stifling heat at one o'clock 'sharp' as the workshop manager had promised, and fifteen minutes later, hot and irritated by the fact that she was late, Megan was entering the restaurant at Izilwane where the air-conditioning enfolded her like a cool, refreshing breeze.

  Isaac came instantly to her aid. 'May I show you to a table, Miss Megan?'

  Megan nodded, her eager glance sweeping across the crowded restaurant in search of Chad. 'I'm meeting Dr McAdam for lunch.'

  'Dr McAdam is not here. He had a cup of coffee and left a few minutes ago.'

  That's odd! thought Megan, her heart skipping an anxious beat as she turned to meet Isaac's curious glance. 'Did he say he was coming back?'

  Isaac shook his head. 'He never said anything, Miss Megan. He drank his coffee and then he left.'

  'Perhaps he was called away,' she suggested hopefully, but Isaac shook his head once again.

  'There was no call for him while he was here.'

  Megan was confused and troubled. It showed on her face and she hovered with indecision before she murmured, 'Thank you, Isaac,' and turned to leave.

  'What about lunch, Miss Megan?' Isaac called after her, but she waved it aside.

  'I'll have something later.'

  She went in search of Chad. He would not have walked out on their luncheon appointment without leaving a message unless something was seriously wrong, and she had a feeling it was important to discover the reason behind his odd behaviour. He was not in his bungalow, and the veterinary building was deserted. Half an hour later Megan had to relinquish her search when no one seemed to know where she might find Chad, and anxiety and tension sat like a lead weight in her chest when she eventually sought the air-conditioned sanctuary of the curio shop.

  She skipped lunch that day. She was too upset to think about ordering something from the restaurant when she sat down behind her desk and stared at the pile of paperwork which needed her urgent attention. Time had been her enemy that day, and she clenched her hands on the desk in frustration. Why hadn't Chad waited!

  She somehow managed to set her personal problems aside to draw the stack of papers towards her and, with Dorothy attending to the customers, she waded systematically through the documents and letters which had accumulated on her desk during her absence.

  Megan received a call from the railway station in Louisville to inform her that a batch of parcels had arrived on the midday train, but it was late that afternoon before she could leave the shop to make the necessary arrangements for the collection of those parcels.

  Bill Hadley's office was situated in the administrative section adjoining the main building, and Megan was walking across the deserted pool area when she saw Chad's khaki-clad frame leaving Bill's office with those long, lithe strides she knew so well.

  Her smile was welcoming as he approached her, the words 'I've been worried about you' leaping to her tongue, but they froze on her parting lips when his cold, contemptuous eyes made stabbing contact with hers before he looked away as if she did not exist. Megan stood transfixed, red flags of humiliation searing her cheeks when he strode past her on his way to the main building, and then the blood receded slowly and painfully from her face to leave her deathly pale.

  Her pain and confusion were mirrored in her eyes as she watched the glass doors swing shut behind Chad. She was shaking like a leaf, and several agonising seconds elapsed before she managed to regain a fraction of her composure.

  She had been snubbed, but she could not imagine why. What had she done to deserve being hurt and humiliated in this way?

  Megan faced Bill Hadley across his desk a few minutes later, making the necessary arrangements for the parcels to be collected at the railway station. She was having difficulty with her concentration, and if she conducted her business in a faintly distracted manner, then Bill was tactful enough not to mention it.

  She returned to the shop in time to see Dorothy off before she tidied up her desk and locked up. The shock of what had occurred had worn off, but the pain and humiliation still lingered like a thorn embedded deep beneath the skin, and Megan knew that she could not leave the matter there. She intended to confront Chad that same evening, and she would demand an explanation for the abominable way she had been treated.

  The telephone started ringing just as she was about to leave the shop, and she dashed back into her office to snatch up the receiver. She nursed a vague hope that it might be Chad, but it was Byron, and his news made her realise she would have to postpone her intended confrontation with Chad.

  Frances had given birth to their child, a boy, earlier that afternoon, and Byron was offering Megan the opportunity to drive into town with him that evening to visit her cousin in hospital.

  'Congratulations, Byron!' Megan laughed elatedly, thrusting her problems aside for the moment. 'I'm so happy for both of you, and I would appreciate a lift into town to meet the new addition to the family.'

  'I'm in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothing, but I'll be at your bungalow in thirty minutes to pick you up,' he told her before he ended their brief conversation.

  Megan's sombre, unhappy mood shifted aside like a dark, heavy cloud which had been obscuring the warmth of the sun, and her heart felt considerably lighter when, half an hour later, she was seated beside Byron in his expensive BMW, speeding through the dusk to Louisville. The birth of Byron and Frances' baby son was creating an exciting and much-needed diversion, and Chad's humiliating snub was eased temporarily from her mind.

  'Have you decided on a name for the baby?' she questioned Byron during the fifteen-minute drive into town.

  'We want to call him Daniel.' Byron glanced at her briefly, and there was pride in the smile he flashed at her. 'It's a name we both like, and it also happens to be my late father's name.'

  'Daniel,' she echoed softly, smiling as she savoured the name. 'I like it,' she said at length, looking forward to seeing the baby as she stared straight ahead of her at the BMW's twin beams piercing the swiftly gathering darkness of night. 'Yes, I like it very much.'

  Frances was sitting up in bed, gazing down at the baby in her arms with a look of incredulous wonder on her face when they walked into her private ward in the hospital's maternity section. Her raven-black hair was tied back with a blue scarf into the nape of her neck, and her dark eyes were warm and misty with happiness when she raised her face for Byron's kiss.

  A look of tender devotion passed between Byron and Frances as he seated himself on the bed beside her and draped an arm about her shoulders. Megan had witnessed that look, and her throat tightened with envy, but she swallowed down that uncomfortable lump when she stepped forward to plant a congratulatory kiss on Frances' cheek.

  'Isn't he beautiful, Megan?' her cousin wanted to know.

  'Beautiful,' echoed Megan, drawing aside the baby blanket to get a clearer view of the tiny infant sleeping contentedly in his mother's arms.

  His hair was dark, and the small, pink face was wrinkled and puffy, but he was beautiful. Megan trailed her fingers lightly across one soft cheek, and a wave of despair engulfed her as, for the first time in her life, she knew an intense longing to have a home and a family of her own, but it was a dream which she knew would have to remain a dream forever.

  'I'm glad you were free to come here this evening.' Frances scattered her distressing thoughts. 'There's something Byron and I would like to ask you.'

  Megan glanced at their grave features and a nervous smile plucked at her mouth. 'This sounds serious.'

  'It is serious.' Frances glanced at Byron, but he gestured that she should continue. 'It would make our happiness complete if you would agree to be Daniel's godmother,' she explained. 'Would you, Mega
n?'

  A warmth invaded Megan's cold, aching heart, and her eyes misted with tears. 'I'm honoured that you should ask me, and I accept gladly.'

  They were all, momentarily, too emotional to speak, then Frances said, 'Would you like to hold your godson?'

  'I was beginning to think I'd have to wait until you're home on the farm to hold him,' Megan laughed shakily, taking the small, precious bundle from her cousin.

  This was the closest she was going to get to having a child of her own, she was thinking as she cradled little Daniel Rockford in her arms, but she was not going to allow this moment of happiness to be tainted with sadness, and she banished her dismal thoughts as she lowered her head to brush her lips lightly against the baby's small, warm forehead.

  Later that evening, when Megan was alone in her bungalow at Izilwane, the events of the day closed in on her with a vengeance, and her joy dwindled, leaving her the pain and humiliation of Chad's rebuff to contend with.

  Chad's bungalow had been in darkness when she had returned from the hospital, but it was shortly after ten that evening, when she was making herself a cup of tea in her kitchen, that she saw the lights go on in his lounge. Should she wait until morning, or should she go and see him now?

  She decided on the latter when she saw him moving about in his lounge through the gap in the curtains at the window. There was no sense in delaying it, she told herself as she switched off the kettle and took a pace towards the door, but the next instant she halted abruptly.

  Chad was not alone in his bungalow. Glenys Gibson was there, and she was standing close to him, saying something and smiling up at him provocatively while he put an arm about her waist and led her away from the window.

  The pain that tore through Megan was like the savage twist of a knife in a raw wound, and she groaned out aloud in agony as she slumped back against the wall beside the kitchen door. She could imagine where Chad was taking that tall, leggy brunette, and she raised her trembling hands to her face, covering her eyes in an almost childish attempt to shut out the mental visions of Chad making love to Glenys Gibson, but her tortured mind was cruelly persistent.