A Return, a Reunion, a Wedding

by Annie O'Neil

  Maggie peered at her for another moment, obviously trying to decide whether or not she should try and force Jayne to talk, and then thought better of it. ‘Let’s do that. The doctor said I was supposed to keep my calorie consumption up—so bring on the burgers!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  HALF AN HOUR LATER Jayne was still steeling herself for some sort of retribution.

  The beautifully manicured cricket ground was bustling with activity. Sam was nowhere to be seen, so that was a bit of breathing room, and the McTavishes had shown up and were every bit as lovely as Maggie had said. They’d taken Connor and Cailey over to the minis’ match, before the main Whitticombe team faced off against the neighbouring village.

  The villagers were every bit as nice to her as they were on her annual Christmas visits. Lots of hellos and delighted smiles of surprise. She supposed her usual fleeting visit and toast to the festive season never gave anyone a chance to do much of anything else, but the villagers were loyal.

  Sam’s family were particularly well known for their huge hearts and charitable ways—Sam’s adoption being a case in point. His parents had already had three girls, but Sam’s mother—a social worker—had been helping a Fire and Rescue team when they’d found Sam abandoned in a rubbish skip as an infant. They’d never made a big fuss of the fact he was adopted, and she knew Sam’s heart burnt bright with love and loyalty for them. From his grandad all the way down to his sister’s children.

  He had always been aware of how fortunate he was to have found his way into the Crenshaws’ lives as the son his adoptive parents had always dreamed of having. And when she and Sam had got together, they’d treated her with as much love and kindness as they did their own children.

  She wondered how kind his family would be to her now.

  She physically shook the thought away, reminding herself that they, too, had offered nothing but love and support after Jules had died. She had been the one to turn away from them.

  Well, she was here now, and life had moved on. It was time to try and see the village through fresh eyes.

  The clubhouse was festooned with bunting. Of course. This was a village that loved bunting. A few dads were getting the huge barbecues up and running. Clusters of children who weren’t in the minis’ match were running round playing tag, just as the adults had done as kids.

  This was nice. Maybe enough time had passed that some of the rawness of the past had genuinely begun to heal over.

  ‘Jayne Sinclair—is that you?’

  Sam’s sister Kate appeared in front of her, carrying a huge bowl of potato salad. Behind her was the rest of the Crenshaw clan. Jess and Ali. Their husbands. Their children. Mr Crenshaw and his father Ernest—Sam’s grandfather. The family she was meant to have been a part of. The family whose secret potato salad recipe would be tucked away in her head by now if she’d married Sam. Memorised. Cherished.

  And just like that the few precious seconds of contentment she’d felt dropped away.

  Instinct caught her seeking Sam out amongst the melee. His Irish Wolfhound, Elf, was keeping a watchful eye on him as he lifted one of his nephews onto his shoulders so that he could unhook a bit of bunting that had snagged on the corner of the clubhouse. It was a simple act of kindness, but one that drove home exactly the sort of man he was.

  He cared. About the big things, the little things and everything in between. Her heart almost exploded from the pain of acknowledging that he had always been everything she’d wanted in a man and the only one she couldn’t have.

  There was no coming back from the catalogue of nightmares she’d put him through. When a girl took a man’s ring off her finger and said goodbye she had to mean it. She had meant it at the time. Hadn’t been able to see the wood for the trees. But now that seven years had split the difference... Only she was too late to make those sorts of amends.

  ‘Jayne?’ Sam’s sister was looking at her curiously. ‘Everything all right? It’s good to see you outside your normal visit.’

  ‘Yes...um...’ She shook her head distractedly and flicked her thumb over her shoulder. ‘I’m here for Maggie. For a few weeks, in fact.’

  ‘Oh, gosh! I hadn’t realised.’

  Together they looked across to where Maggie appeared to be organising some sort of impromptu three-legged race.

  Jayne rolled her eyes and huffed out what she hoped was a comedy sigh. ‘She’s meant to be resting. I’d better go lend her a hand. Get her on to a picnic rug or something.’

  And avoid this very awkward conversation.

  ‘Of course.’ Kate gave her arm a quick pat. ‘And Jayne...just to let you know... Sam’s been thinking about dating again, so...’ She crinkled her nose and gave her a smile that was hard to interpret. ‘Just be careful how you tread if you’re back for a bit, yeah? He’s already been through a lot.’

  A warning. A nice one. But a warning nonetheless.

  ‘Absolutely. Got it.’

  She fought a ridiculous impulse to curtsey and instead did what she was brilliant at doing. Turned round and walked away.

  * * *

  ‘Hey!’ Sam ran up behind Jayne as she strode up the small hill that overlooked the pitch. ‘Everything okay?’

  She whirled round and their eyes caught and locked. Crackles of electricity snapped between them like a summer storm. She stared into his eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

  ‘My sisters said you looked upset. What’s going on?’

  ‘What? I’m fine.’

  She punched him on the arm. A classic playground flirtation move. Proof, if she needed any, that the plethora of feelings she’d hoped had faded were still alive and kicking.

  ‘Nothing to see here!’

  He frowned at her. An uninvited whorl of heat unleashed itself in her belly as goose pimples skittered up her arms.

  Sam’s frown was kind of sexy. How could she have forgotten how perfectly green his eyes were? That thick, straw-coloured hair...a bit wavy, a bit not. Lightly stubbled cheeks and a jaw that just begged a girl to trace her fingers along it before landing on that remarkably full pair of lips of his.

  She pressed her fingers against the rough bark of a tree and dug in, praying it was enough to stop her from wrapping herself around him.

  Unexpectedly, he flipped his frown into a variation on a smile. A wary one. But still that same sexy, slow smile that lit her up from the inside out.

  He’d never fixed that slight overlap of his two front teeth. Funny how the tiny imperfection made the whole picture perfect.

  He hooked his thumbs on his hips. Hips barely holding up a pair of chinos that were only just keeping purchase on the hem of a white shirt that brought out his early summer tan...

  Grown-up Sam was...mmm...extra-nice. The little crinkles by his eyes and the tiny hints of white hair at his temples unleashed a whole new set of butterflies and fireworks...

  Just as quickly they were extinguished.

  Those crinkles and the white hair hadn’t been there before he’d moved on from their disastrous relationship. Time had taken its toll. Or, more accurately, life. A divorce. The loss of his mother. A pair of body blows there was no proper consolation for. Especially when the divorce had been finalised just a few months before his mother’s death.

  She wanted to hug him. She should hug him. Their shared past held her back.

  ‘Sorry about your...um...you know... Things.’

  Sam looked at her long and hard, those green eyes of his boring straight through to her soul. He didn’t dignify her paltry commiserations with a response.

  She had attended the funeral with her parents but hadn’t stayed to pass on her condolences. She regretted that because she was sorry for his loss. And for so much more than she would ever be able to stuff into a Thinking of you at this difficult time card.

  ‘You planning on hiding up here for the rest of the mat
ch or are you actually here to help Maggie?’

  The challenging spark in Sam’s eyes made mincemeat of the oxygen in her lungs. There was definitely an edge to him now. Something hard and unyielding that she hadn’t expected.

  He shifted and gave her a look that was almost edged with respect. ‘I’m impressed that you came. It’s got to be tough. Especially this time of year.’

  This time of year. What a loaded phrase.

  Fifteen days and about eight hours away from the moment of impact.

  She threw on a smile Jules would’ve given her stamp of approval. The type of grin that said the world might have given her a kick or two, but she was going to keep on keeping on.

  ‘Ha! You and me both, mate.’

  They both flinched at the use of the word ‘mate’. He’d been her childhood sweetheart. First kiss. First dance. First love. She’d said yes when he’d gone down on bended knee and presented her with a perfect diamond solitaire. Wept in solitude when she’d returned it. Sam Crenshaw was not a casual buddy.

  No matter how many times she’d told herself leaving him was the right thing to do, each time she saw him her heart had begged her to change her mind.

  Jayne nodded her head towards the table where Maggie was sitting, receiving the full adoration of the villagers now that news of her tricky pregnancy had spread.

  ‘I’ve scanned through the notes you gave me. It reads worse than she’s acting. How is she really?’

  He ticked Maggie’s diagnoses off on his fingers. ‘Pre-eclampsia. Gestational diabetes. Twin pregnancy. She’s on a bit of a tightrope walk, if I’m honest. She’s all right now, but...’ His voice took on a warning note. ‘She won’t be if she doesn’t start putting her feet up properly. You know as well as I do how quickly these symptoms can take a turn for the worse.’

  She did. There was a specialist unit in her hospital for mothers who were experiencing difficult pregnancies. Too many times her colleagues had been forced to call a time of death. She wished now she’d done a few more shadow shifts in that department. Maybe she’d give one of her colleagues a call. Get a few key notes on what to look out for. There wasn’t a chance in the universe that Maggie was going downhill on her watch.

  Jayne gave a jaunty salute to cover up the fact that her insides were jelly. ‘Ready and on high alert. My sole remit is to keep those babies right where they belong. And Mum healthy. And, of course, make sure her children eat more than toast. Toast that isn’t burnt. Can they make toast?’

  She was wittering now. She couldn’t help it. Sam’s entire visage spoke of a man who believed she’d keep her word about as much as he believed in the Tooth Fairy.

  He lowered his voice and leant in. She tried her best not to breathe in. One whiff of warm skin and that spicy man scent of his and her knees would start misbehaving.

  ‘She needs this, Jayne. She needs you. If you let her down I’ll—’

  ‘You’ll what?’ she challenged.

  His voice hardened. ‘I’ll pick up the pieces. But I will not have your back. You’ll have to ride this one out on your own.’

  She wanted to protest. It wasn’t as if being here was easy for her. If he had even the slightest clue of just how difficult...

  Why not tell him? A burden shared...

  No. If Sam knew that their engagement had led to her sister’s death... No chance. She wasn’t letting him take any of the heat for this one. Jules’s death was solidly on her. She’d been the one who’d agreed to race her sister. She’d been the one who hadn’t got Jules’s helmet to her on time. The one who hadn’t screamed loud enough in warning when that sports car had raced round the corner.

  She looked him in the eye. ‘I’ve promised to help. I’ll help.’

  The crinkles round his eyes narrowed. Enough to send a wash of ice water through her veins.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ she asked quietly.

  Sam didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The number of times she’d seen that same flash of emotion in his eyes was the number of times her own heart had broken.

  Talk about ‘open mouth and insert foot’. She might as well shove both her feet in there and have done with it.

  Sam eventually broke the awkward silence. ‘I guess you’ve probably heard the news?’

  Her mind reeled for a second, then landed on the most recent thing she’d heard about Sam.

  ‘Yes! Absolutely. Your sister told me. Um...well...good luck with the dating thing!’

  Both his eyebrows shot up and he barked a tight laugh. ‘That wasn’t the news I was talking about. I meant the news that Kate is pregnant again. I saw you two talking.’

  Oh. And, ouch. No, Kate had only mentioned that she had better watch herself with Sam. Then it hit her. Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to know about the dating. Her tummy did an involuntary flip.

  She sought his eyes for any signs of lingering affection. But just as she sensed those creases by his eyes might be about to soften a pixie-haired woman Jayne didn’t recognise swooped in, bearing a pair of wine glasses.

  ‘There you are, Sam! I wondered where you’d got to. I thought we were going to sit down by the pitch? Hope it wasn’t too cheeky, but I’ve brought you a glass of Pinot from the bar. Mmm! Delicious. I am parched. So...’ The woman—petite, blonde, and with huge fawn eyes—looked at Jayne then back at Sam. ‘Friend of yours?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Sam said, his eyes still glued to Jayne’s. ‘Blast from the past.’

  Another burst of fireworks exploded in Jayne’s belly. That was one way to put it.

  Sam shifted his weight and touched the woman’s arm. ‘Jayne Sinclair—allow me to introduce you to Nell Pace.’

  Her heart sank straight to her toes. Sam wasn’t considering dating. He was on a date.

  The fireworks went out in one swift move.

  ‘Hi! Goodness... Well!’ Jayne’s voice was getting a bit screechy. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  Sam threw her a peculiar look as Nell launched into an explanation as to how they’d met.

  ‘My aunt works with Sam. I’m new in the village and she thought we’d hit it off, so when I heard about the cricket match I thought I’d come along and say hello.’

  Sam looked about as uncomfortable as Jayne felt. So Jayne did the only thing she could think of to fix it.

  Scarper.

  She threw a frantic wave in Maggie’s direction. ‘I really should get going. Maggie’s waiting for me, and I’m the last person to stand in the way of a budding...um...friendship...’

  She was. Absolutely she was. But if she hadn’t been cringing before, she was properly mortified now. It was as if she were wearing an invisible scarlet letter on her chest. A for Abandonment. If only it were absolution.

  Nell waved one of those fingertip waves as Sam, who was now standing behind Nell, gave Jayne a quick nod that said a thousand things.

  First and foremost it said Don’t you dare let Maggie down. He was watching her.

  Her heart suddenly weighed about a million pounds. It looked as if Whitticombe wasn’t the time machine she’d thought it might be after all.

  * * *

  Jayne slammed the ladies’ room door shut and headed straight to the sink. She threw cold water on her face, willing it to help the heat fade from her cheeks.

  She’d known coming back would be tough, but talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire!

  She caught her own eye in the mirror and saw things through the chinks in her armour that she barely wanted to acknowledge. Loneliness. Loss.

  Maybe you don’t want to be alone as much as you think you do. Maybe that’s why you came back here instead of running even further away.

  She quelled a frustrated howl and stamped her foot. She was living the life she wanted to live. The life her sister couldn’t. If that meant sucking it up in London and trying to do the
things her adrenaline junkie sister would normally have had to beg her to do, so be it.

  So she didn’t like bungee jumping? She could get over that. And the constant hum and buzz of city life. And the late night clubbing. And, and, and...

  What she did love was her job. While there were no silver linings in losing Jules, her sister’s death had brought out a love for paediatric surgery Jayne would have never known she had. She genuinely, one hundred per cent, loved what she did for a living.

  Which begged the question why had she come running back to Whitticombe instead of perfecting her techniques at the hospital?

  Helping children at their most vulnerable moments was one of the most rewarding things in the world. Except when it wasn’t.

  The truth brought streaks of red to her cheeks.

  Losing Stella had thrown her right back to that day when she’d lost her sister. And feeling that level of pain and loss meant being in Whitticombe. So here she was dodging her ex—in the loo.

  Now what? Stay in here until everyone had gone home?

  Hardly.

  She blinked away a couple of tears and forced her brain to take part in the conversation.

  Losing Stella was a loss...but not a failure. She knew that intellectually. Her heart took a nose-dive as memories flooded in. But losing Stella with that particular heart and then crying about it... That was proof—as if she needed any—that she was still wrestling with her sister’s death.

  She forced herself to look at the mirror again. She’d sometimes pretend she was looking into Jules’s eyes when she looked into her reflection. Sometimes she genuinely thought she caught glimpses of her. Especially when she was scrubbing in for surgery. They’d been identical twins, after all.

  But lately it had been harder to drum up that vital, energy-charged version of herself. The version that was part Jayne and part Jules. She had no idea who she was looking at right now. Seven years was a long time to keep a ghost alive.

  She stuck her tongue out at her reflection, then forced a silly grin. She was here for Maggie. Sure, it might not have started out that way, but it was a chance to prove she could do something good in the world.