Was he more worried about his new responsibilities than she’d realised? Was he scared that his children would soon grow tired of this place and want to hightail it back to New York?
Somehow, Holly didn’t think that was likely and she would do her best to make sure Anna and Josh settled in smoothly but, after Chelsea’s reaction to Jabiru, she could understand Gray’s concern.
As she nestled more snugly under the duvet, she remembered there was one other thing about Gray that had bothered her—
His books.
Or, rather, the lack of his books.
Where were they?
As a lifelong lover of the written word, Holly had always found herself sneaking peeks at other people’s bookshelves. It wasn’t so much that she was looking for books to read—this time she’d brought a good supply and she could easily order more over the Internet—but she’d always been fascinated by what books revealed about their owners—their hobbies and interests and tastes in fiction.
For her, books had always been a kind of getting-to-know-you shortcut. So far, in Gray’s house, she’d seen a few recipe books and women’s magazines in the kitchen, but they were obviously Janet’s. Where were Gray’s books?
Perhaps he was a very orderly man who liked to keep all his reading material in one place—in his study, possibly.
Yes, his study was sure to have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Content with that thought, she fell promptly asleep.
Holly was in the depths of sleep when the screams started, so deeply asleep, in fact, that she almost ignored them. One part of her brain urged her to respond, but she felt drugged, glued to the mattress.
But then she remembered it was Anna who was screaming.
Fighting desperate weariness, she opened one eye and saw moonlight streaming through an unfamiliar window. For a frantic moment she panicked. Where was she?
It came in a flash and she sat up, her heart thudding as she threw back the bedclothes. Shivering in the sudden cold—it was winter here, after all—she switched on her bedside lamp, shivered again when her feet met icy floorboards. Regrettably, Outback homes did not have central heating.
But there was no time to hunt for a warm dressing gown. Anna’s screams had risen several decibels and she’d wake everybody in the outlying cottages. Holly dashed from her room and down the passage to the children’s room.
Gray was already there. In the dark, Holly could see him sitting on the edge of Anna’s bed, trying to calm her.
‘Shh, Anna,’ he was murmuring as he drew the little girl into his arms. ‘You’re okay, baby. Shh.’
Anna continued to scream.
Holly stepped closer and, although she couldn’t see Gray’s face, she sensed how helpless he felt. Poor man. She knew he was horrified by his daughter’s terror, and tonight he was probably also worried that the screams would alarm everyone within hearing range.
Gently, Holly leaned closer and stroked Anna’s hair and her soft cheek. ‘Hey, Anna,’ she said in her most soothing voice. ‘It’s okay, honey. You’ve had another nasty nightmare, but it’s all over now. You’re okay. I’m here with you, and Daddy’s here, too.’
To her relief, the screams began to subside, reducing in time to shuddering sobs.
Beside her, Holly heard Gray’s heavy sigh.
‘It might be best if I take her back to my bed,’ she offered, knowing the strange environment would make it harder for Anna to settle back to sleep this time.
Gray didn’t hesitate. ‘Okay. Thanks. Let me carry her for you.’
Holly nodded, then went over to Josh’s bed. ‘Are you okay, champ?’
‘Yeah,’ the boy murmured sleepily.
‘I’m taking Anna through to my room, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Holly gave him a reassuring hug, loving the scent of baby powder on his skin. She tucked the duvet more closely around him, then went with Gray, down the cold passage to her room. She was shivering as she climbed into bed again—was too cold, in fact, to worry about the intimacy of having Gray Kidman in a T-shirt and striped pyjama bottoms in her bedroom.
At least Anna was calmer now. She blinked in the lamplight as Gray lowered her into bed beside her.
His arms brushed Holly’s arms, electrifying her, leaving her nerve endings jangling as he straightened once more and stood beside the bed.
When Holly looked up, she saw tortured darkness in his eyes.
‘Anna’s all right now,’ she told him.
‘But is she?’ he whispered, unable to hide his anxiety. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Gray. She’ll be fine. I’m sure.’
The mattress dipped as he sank onto the side of Holly’s bed and she could see his hand shaking as he stroked Anna’s hair. ‘I’m so sorry, baby.’
He spoke in a tight voice, as if he was somehow responsible for Anna’s distress. Holly had read somewhere that parenting was mostly about guilt. Looking at Gray, she could believe it.
She wanted to reassure him that he was doing a great job with his kids, but she couldn’t talk about it now in front of Anna.
‘You’re going to sleep now, aren’t you, Anna?’ she said instead as the child snuggled close.
Eyes closed, Anna nodded against Holly’s shoulder.
Even though the little girl was calm again, Gray continued to sit there, watching her. Holly realised she was holding her breath. He was so close she could almost feel his body heat, and he looked so impossibly gorgeous in the lamplight, so dark and manly and—
Holly caught the tropical scents of his cologne as he leaned forward and kissed his daughter.
‘Goodnight, poppet.’
His blue eyes gleamed as he smiled sadly at Holly. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘You’re wonderful, Holly. Thank you so much.’
And then, before she recognised quite what was happening, he kissed her cheek.
Her entire body flared like a freshly struck match.
Gray’s kiss was no more than a friendly glancing brush, but it was positioned very close to the corner of her mouth, and her libido seemed to have developed a mind of its own, creating all kinds of pleasurable expectations.
Gray straightened and stood. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything you want?’
Oh, man. Holly might have laughed if she wasn’t so stunned. She might have answered if she wasn’t too breathless to speak. Thank heavens Anna was there, preventing her from saying anything reckless.
‘I…I’m fine,’ she managed, eventually. ‘Anna and I will…um…both be fine now. Thank you.’
Gray stood again, looking down at them, his eyes dark once again and serious. ‘Goodnight, then.’ He cracked a tiny, crooked, utterly gorgeous smile. ‘I hope you both sleep well.’
Holly couldn’t reply, could merely nod as she watched him leave her room—watched his shiny dark hair, his broad shoulders, his perfect butt and his long legs disappear through her doorway.
‘Josh?’ Gray whispered into the darkness.
He heard the rustle of bedclothes and a sleepy voice.
‘Is that you, Dad?’
‘Yeah. I came back to make sure you’re okay.’
Light spilling through the doorway from the hall showed his small son curled on his side, with the bedclothes tucked up to his chin, his longish dark hair framing his soft, fresh cheeks.
The boy was only six—so little—and yet there were times when Gray thought he caught glimpses of the man his son would one day become.
Cautiously, he sat on the edge of the bed, and the small mound beneath the bedclothes wriggled to make room for him. ‘It’s pretty scary when Anna screams like that, isn’t it?’
Josh nodded solemnly. ‘But she’s getting better.’ He sounded surprisingly grown-up. ‘Holly says it’ll stop eventually.’
‘I’m sure Holly’s right.’ Gray was thinking of a conversation in New York when Holly had talked about his children and their grief. Ever since then, he’d felt guilty that he’d shied away from raising the
subject of Chelsea’s death with them.
If he took Holly’s advice and talked about it more, he might be able to save Anna from her nightmares. Holly was in there now with Anna, soothing her, doing everything she could to help his daughter to feel safe…to heal.
But in a few weeks Holly would be gone, and it would be up to him. And for all he knew, Josh might need his help, too. At the moment the boy seemed to be coping just fine, but how much pain had he kept bottled up?
‘Josh, I’ve never thanked you,’ Gray began unsteadily, and already, just thinking about what he wanted to say made his eyes sting and his throat choke up. ‘I’ve never thanked you for ringing the ambulance for your mom—’
He stopped, took a breath to clear the shake out of his voice. ‘That was such smart thinking. I’m so proud of you, son.’
At first there was no sound from the bed. And then, ‘But I didn’t save her.’ In the darkness, Josh’s voice sounded extra-tiny and quivery. ‘Mommy died.’
A sob brimmed in Gray’s throat and he gulped it down. ‘Sometimes we can’t save people, Josh.’ He took a breath. ‘But the big thing is, you did your best and that’s so fantastic. That’s why I’m so proud of you. Your mom would have been proud, too.’
Tears threatened again and the next breath Gray drew shuddered in his chest. To his surprise, he felt two wiry arms winding around his neck, and then Josh was clinging to him, his bony head pressed hard under Gray’s jaw.
‘Thanks, Dad.’
Gray smelled the warm just-bathed scent of his son, mingled with a faint whiff of puppy, and he was flooded with love. Then he felt hot tears wetting his T-shirt. A beat later, Josh was crying noisily, weeping as if his heart would break.
Fighting his own tears, Gray gathered the boy in and held him close, felt his small body shaking as the grief poured out of him.
Poor little kid. Gray could remember how he’d looked when he was born—tiny, red, fists curled ready to take on the world. He pictured again the fine man the boy would grow up to be.
‘I’m here for you, Josh,’ Gray whispered. ‘I promise. I’ll be the best dad ever. No matter what it takes.’
It was some time before Josh was calm again. Worn out from crying, he finally sank back onto the pillow and looked up at Gray with tear-washed eyes.
‘Dad, do you think if we’d stayed here with you that Mommy wouldn’t have died?’
Gray stifled a groan of dismay. His throat closed over and he couldn’t speak.
‘No,’ he finally managed in a tight voice. ‘I’m afraid it wouldn’t have made any difference, mate.’
‘Why didn’t we stay here?’
‘Didn’t—’ This was so hard. ‘Didn’t your mom explain?’
‘She just said she needed to work at the ballet.’
‘That’s right. Your mom’s work was very important to her. She was very talented and she needed to live in New York.’
Josh nodded and sighed, then rolled sleepily onto his side. To Gray’s surprise, the boy was very soon asleep, his breath falling evenly and softly.
But when he went back to his own room, he lay staring at the ceiling, thinking once again about his marriage, about Chelsea, and his wonderful kids…
His old fear returned. How he could pull off being the ‘best dad ever’? He wanted to be everything Anna and Josh needed, but they needed an educated father, someone who had the right connections, someone who’d learned so much more than running a cattle station.
He thought of Chelsea again, of her growing disappointment and unhappiness. He thought of his own mother, who still to this day managed to make him feel unbearably deficient.
How long would it be—years or only months—before Anna and Josh saw through his bluff and discovered the failings he’d worked so hard and so long to hide?
‘Your dinner’s keeping warm in the oven,’ Janet told Gray two nights later, when he arrived home after a long day of shifting cattle on his western boundary. ‘I’ve left Holly’s dinner in the oven, too. Right now, she’s putting the children to bed.’
‘Already?’ Gray glanced at the clock on the wall in surprise. It was only ten past seven. ‘The kids aren’t sick, are they?’
Janet laughed. ‘Heavens, no. If that pair were any fitter they’d be dangerous.’
He sent Janet a cautious glance. ‘How was their first day of school?’
‘I’ll let them tell you.’
Her enigmatic answer caused a twinge of fear—the old fear that had haunted him as long as he could remember—but Janet was smiling, so he decided he was overreacting. He set off down the hall.
Even before he reached the children’s room, he heard their laughter, but then he realised the sounds were coming from Holly’s room.
His pace slowed, then stopped altogether. For the past two days and nights, he’d been dealing with images of Holly in bed—which only proved he wasn’t the brightest young bull in the paddock. In the midst of his poor little daughter’s distress, he’d been distracted by an overpowering urge to kiss her nanny—despite the nanny’s sensible flannelette pyjamas.
It was an unforeseen problem—this tendency to find his thoughts flashing to Holly. It was the last thing he’d expected, the last thing he wanted. He had no intention of setting himself up for another romantic disaster.
A burst of laughter from the bedroom was accompanied by Holly’s voice, high-pitched and squeaking. Actually, the sound was more like quacking, as if Holly was acting out a story. Gray drew a bracing breath and continued on to the doorway of her room.
To his surprise, the room was in darkness. In the dim light he could see that Holly’s bed had been transformed into a tent made from sheets draped from the tall brass bedposts and joined in the middle by large safety pins. The silhouettes of his giggling children and their nanny were illuminated by torchlight inside the tent.
It looked like incredible fun.
Gray stood in the darkened doorway, watching them, hands sunk in the pockets of his jeans…moved beyond reason…flooded by memories of his own lonely childhood in this house and his parents’ constant bickering and battles.
Never once had he experienced anything close to this level of fun or fellowship. Later, he’d enjoyed yarns around campfires and he’d discovered the camaraderie of the stockmen in the mustering team, but his early home life had been constantly marred by his parents’ tension and deep unhappiness.
By contrast, Holly was going out of her way to keep his children entertained and happy and secure. Her generosity was a revelation to him. Damn it, he was fighting tears.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he knocked on the bedroom door.
‘Who’s there?’ called Josh, sounding important.
‘Hector Owl,’ Gray responded in his most booming voice.
‘Daddy!’ squealed his children, and two little faces appeared from beneath the side wall of the tent.
‘Hey, there. Looks like you’re having fun.’
‘We’re putting on a puppet show.’ Grinning widely, Josh lifted the sheet to reveal Holly caught in a beam of torchlight and sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the bed. Her hand was encased in a glove puppet that vaguely resembled a duck.
She blushed when she saw Gray.
‘I don’t want to interrupt,’ he said.
Holly shook her head. ‘You’re not interrupting. We were only filling in time until you got home.’
‘But don’t let me stop your fun. Keep going.’
She smiled shyly. ‘Um…well…’
‘Just tell me something first,’ he said, quickly. ‘How was school?’
‘Awesome!’ his children shouted in unison.
‘Really?’
Anna’s eyes were almost popping with excitement. ‘It’s a rocket ship school, Daddy. Me and Josh and Holly are in one rocket ship and we talk on our radio to all the kids in the other rocket ships.’
‘A rocket ship?’ Gray shook his head in bemusement. ‘Sounds exciting.’
‘It is excit
ing. And we’ve already learned all kinds of math and about wombats.’
Gray smiled at Holly—seemed he wanted to smile more and more lately. ‘I’ll get all the details from you later.’ Already he was looking forward to their conversation.
‘But you’ll play with us now, won’t you?’ demanded Josh.
‘Ah…’ Gray hesitated. They were probably acting out another story he’d never heard of. An excuse—an urgent need to see a man about a dog—was ready on the tip of his tongue.
‘Here, Daddy,’ cried Anna bossily. ‘You can have a puppet.’ She held up something made of bright pink fabric. ‘You can be the pig.’
‘The pig,’ he repeated, feeling instantly inadequate, just as he had on the night Holly had pushed him to read a bedtime story.
But, despite his misgivings, he knew he needed to learn how to do this stuff. For his kids’ sake, he had to make the most of these next few weeks while Holly was still here to show him the ropes.
‘Sure,’ he said, bravely walking closer to the bed and holding out his hand for the pig. ‘What do I have to do?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘SO, TELL me,’ said Gray after he’d heard Holly’s full report on his kids’ first day in their new school, ‘is our Outback as bad as you expected?’ He was smiling but Holly thought she detected tension in his eyes, as if her answer really mattered.
‘I wasn’t expecting it to be bad,’ she said.
‘Not even after Chelsea’s warnings?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not like Chelsea,’ she told him bluntly. ‘Chelsea was a city girl through and through—city girl lifestyle, city girl career, city girl clothes. Not that I need to tell you that.’
They were sitting at one end of the kitchen table eating their heated-up meals. The puppet play had been a great success and Gray had joined in with gusto. Now, Janet had retired to her cottage and the children were in bed, so Holly and Gray were alone in the big silent house.
Gray had showered and changed into a fresh white shirt that made the tanned skin at his throat even darker. His hair was damp and he’d shaved, and Holly could see a small scar on his jaw she’d never noticed before. She told herself this was an everyday, average evening meal and it made no sense that she felt all fluttery every time their gazes met across the table.
Rancher's Twins: Mom Needed Page 7