Brought Together by Baby (15 page)

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Authors: Margaret McDonagh

BOOK: Brought Together by Baby
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‘I’m worried you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Holly. It’s no secret you had feelings for Gus at one time. And now you’re so attached to Max…’ Erica had spoken bluntly, making Holly blush and give thanks that Erica had no idea her feelings for Gus persisted.

Although concern and kindness had softened the older woman’s voice, Holly had frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I know you, my dear. Everything that makes you such a special person and a wonderful nurse will, I fear, make life very hard for you.’

‘What do you mean?’ she’d asked, a ripple of unease assailing her as her formidable advisor issued the words of caution.

With a sad smile, Erica had shaken her head. ‘However much you may wish it, Holly, you’re
not
Max’s mother. Gus is a young, attractive man, and one day he’s likely to remarry. Where will that leave you?’

Even now Erica’s comments sent icy chills down Holly’s spine. Max had captured her heart the second she’d seen him. And the idea that she might one day have to stand by and again watch Gus fall in love with someone else filled her with pain and dread. Erica had no idea her warnings came too late. Holly was in too deep to save herself. Handing Max, and his father, over to some other woman was a nightmare too horrific to consider.

Disturbed, Holly forced herself to think of other things. Happy things. Like new arrivals. After keeping everyone waiting for eight days, Callie had finally given birth to a beautiful baby girl called Isobel. Frazer had taken to fatherhood with the same panache as Gus, and he’d followed through on his intention to give up flying once the baby arrived. Having qualified as a consultant, and with a vacancy open in Strathlochan’s A&E department, he would soon move from the air ambulance to the hospital. Holly was thankful he’d been a flight doctor when Max had so desperately needed his skills.

As the sun continued to shine through August she and Max spent time with Callie and Izzy—and Frazer’s Border terrier Hamish—taking walks in the park, by the loch, or in the castle grounds. She and Callie enjoyed comparing notes
on caring for their charges. And, with the two babies bonding, there had been much teasing that in twenty years’ time they’d be planning Max and Izzy’s wedding!

Holly’s smile faded as her thoughts turned from happy arrivals to sad goodbyes. Kelly had set off for her year nursing in Australia on the exchange programme, and despite the promise of regular e-mail contact between Strathlochan and Sydney she would be missed. Holly worried about George, rattling round the big old house on her own with only the cats for company. She hoped that at least one of the new intake of young doctors and trainee nurses descending on Strathlochan throughout the month would become a good housemate for George.

And, hardest of all, before August ended Ruth would leave to embrace her new life with Rico in Florence. Holly knew Gina was as delighted as she was to see Ruth so happy and cherished by Rico, but she also knew tears would be inevitable when departure day arrived.

Rico and Seb were cousins, and very close, so Holly was consoled by the knowledge that they would all see each other as often as possible. Invitations to Florence and Elba remained open, and Ruth was keeping her home in Strathlochan for holidays and weekends.

It was at Ruth’s cottage on the outskirts of town that she and Max had spent an afternoon picking an abundance of soft fruit—unfortunately without Ruth, who’d been working out her last days as a GP at the town’s biggest doctors’ surgery.

‘I hate to think of my fruit and vegetables going to waste,’ Ruth had remarked when Holly and Gina had seen her the previous weekend. ‘Promise to help yourselves to whatever you can use.’

At home in the kitchen, with the back door open to let in the late afternoon breeze and the sound of the gently tinkling
windchime hanging outside, Holly glanced at Max, asleep in his Moses basket. Smiling, she began the task of sorting out her bounty of berries and currants. As she worked, deciding which to freeze and which to make into jam, setting aside the ones that needed to be eaten straight away, her thoughts turned to the christening and to the visit she and Gus had made to the solicitor.

Frazer, Callie, Seb and Gina had all enthusiastically accepted being godparents, and arrangements for a quiet ceremony were in hand. As was the paperwork to deal with legal guardianship. When Gus had first mentioned it Holly hadn’t been unduly fussed, but in the light of Erica Sharpe’s cautionary words safeguarding her rights with Max had become an urgent priority.

The bad news was that the solicitor—who’d handled legal matters for her family for as long as Holly could remember—had revealed the true situation relating to Julia’s estate.

‘Our searches have found no evidence of a will,’ James Russell had explained, and although disappointed Holly hadn’t been surprised to learn of Julia’s failure to make preparations.

Frowning, Gus had sat forward attentively. ‘Do her assets go to the government?’

‘No. As her legal next of kin—and because she was not declared without life until after his birth,’ the solicitor had informed them, ‘Max is sole beneficiary.’

‘Thank God,’ Gus had responded, pleasing her, as it suggested his thoughts—like hers—were on Max.

The kindly, balding sixty-year-old had opened the file in front of him. ‘I have to warn you…Julia’s finances are a mess. We’ve been through all the paperwork and there’s no easy way to say it. Apart from any items of value you have of hers at home—jewellery, for example—Julia
has
no assets.’

‘That can’t be right.’ Holly remembered whispering the words. She’d been so shocked that for once she’d scarcely been aware of Gus.

‘I’m sorry, Holly.’ James’s smile had been grave and apologetic. ‘There’s nothing left.’

The extent of Julia’s debts shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Holly pressed a clenched fist to her aching chest as she contemplated again the ramifications of all James had told them. Julia had promised never to get into debt again and to get help for her self-confessed gambling problem. Those had been the conditions under which Holly had given Julia money and bailed her out of serious trouble. The agreement had been concluded in James’s office, but Julia hadn’t meant any of it. Something she had gleefully made clear later. There would be no savings account into which she would make deposits when she was back on her feet, and Holly would not be repaid.

Holly wasn’t bothered that she’d never see a penny of the money herself. She’d lived without it up to now and would continue to manage. What pained her was the fact that the inheritance that should have provided for Max’s future had been squandered by Julia with such selfish disregard.

She’d been grateful that James, the soul of discretion, had told Gus nothing of past events or of her own role in them. She didn’t doubt that Gus had questions, but thankfully they’d remained unasked…so far. She had no wish to reveal the details to him, wanting to protect his memories of the woman for whom he grieved. And so Julia continued to be a ghostly spectre between them.

Succumbing to temptation, Holly popped a raspberry into her mouth, wishing the tangy burst of flavour would take away the sour taste left by her thoughts. Whether it helped or not she couldn’t say: her attention was diverted by the sound
of the front door closing, followed by footsteps treading down the hallway.

Gus was home.

Her heart gave its customary flutter and her breath hitched, her pulse racing at the prospect of seeing him. Masking her emotions, she turned as he entered the room and smiled.

‘Hello,’ she greeted, basking in the sight of him.

‘Hi. Have you two had a good day?’

‘Lovely.’ And it was even better now he was home. Not that she could tell him that. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he crossed to the Moses basket where Max was waking from his nap. ‘He heard your voice.’

Pleasure lit Gus’s face. ‘Did you wake up for your papa, half-pint?’

Max had received his first set of immunisations at eight weeks, when the GP had pronounced himself delighted with the progress made, reminding Holly of Gus’s unwavering insistence that Max had entered the world four weeks early.

‘He’s changing and developing every day,’ she commented as Gus picked Max up and cuddled him.

‘He certainly is. I never tire of seeing his smile.’

Gus looked at her, and as their eyes met they shared a moment of intimacy. ‘I know.’ She struggled to bring her shaky voice under control. ‘He’s responding so much—copying expressions and gurgling back when you or I speak to him,’ she added, glowing with pride at his growing achievements. And he was so handsome…just like his father.

‘Have his eyes changed colour?’ Gus asked, studying his son’s face.

‘Definitely.’ She’d noticed the difference, too. ‘They’re more denim-blue.’

Max had lost the newborn look and was gaining more control of his movements, reaching out and trying to grasp things,
beginning to suck his fist and thumb. He was lively and interested, and loved being read to and listening to music—especially when Gus played the sax. He’d been sleeping through for some time, allowing them undisturbed nights, and as his character continued to emerge his sweet nature remained. He was easygoing, and his sense of fun delighted her.

Gus was talking softly to Max, who gurgled in response. Seeing father and son together always stole her heart. Gus was so loving—gentle yet strong—and so protective. Holly returned to her task, wishing this scene they re-enacted daily was real…that they were a proper family and that she was not only Max’s true mother but Gus’s wife, too. It was a hopeless fantasy, but that didn’t stop her dreaming.

She was startled when Gus moved to her side, Max cradled in one arm, brushing against her. The touch of his skin set hers aflame. He leaned in and pinched a couple of raspberries from her bowl.

‘Hey!’ she admonished, insanely breathless from his nearness.

Gus popped the ripe fruit into his mouth, his chuckle and rare cheeky grin nearly seizing her lungs. ‘You
have
been busy. Is this the result of your raid on Ruth’s garden?’

‘Yes. Max and I had a lovely afternoon and the freezer is stuffed with fruit. We’ll be eating pies and crumbles for months! I’m going to make jam, too,’ she told him, chattering like a flustered schoolgirl.

‘I’m not complaining!’

Distracted by her awareness of his close proximity, she was slow to react when he selected another raspberry and slid it into her mouth. The pad of his thumb caught on the plump fullness of her lower lip.

Holly froze.

The air felt alive, crackling with electricity. Her gaze
locked with his. As the berry burst and filled her mouth with its tangy richness she couldn’t help but swallow and lick her lips. Gus’s smoky eyes darkened. Holly could hear every rapid beat of her heart.

For one insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She tensed and drew away, desperate not to betray how intensely she craved for him to do just that. At once Gus stepped back and withdrew his gaze, breaking the magnetic spell between them. While she wrestled with her disappointment, and her fear that she had somehow exposed her feelings, he returned his attention to Max, cuddling his son close and kissing his soft cheek.

‘Has he had his bottle?’ Gus asked, with no sign of the previous fun or intimacy remaining in his voice.

‘Not yet.’ Fingers shaking, she tightened her grip on the bowl. ‘It’s ready. I thought you’d like to feed him if you were home in time.’

‘Thanks.’

* * *

Gus sat at the table to feed Max, and although he was focused on his son, and relishing time with him after a long shift at work, he was aware of Holly, too.

What must she think of him? She’d withdrawn so quickly she must have sensed his desire to kiss her. He smothered a groan. What had possessed him to let down his guard? She’d smelled of sunshine, summer berries and something uniquely Holly…feminine, warm and arousing. He should never have fed her that raspberry. It had seemed a simple gesture—a natural part of the humour they’d shared—but he’d overstepped the mark, allowing the attraction, the needing, the wanting, to show itself.

He watched as Holly took the local newspaper from the table and shooed an inquisitive wasp away from the fruit,
ushering it out of the open back door. As she returned to her tasks he reflected on how natural she was in this domestic setting. Spending more time at home with Max agreed with her. And it wasn’t just Max who felt the benefit, Gus allowed…his stomach approved, too.

‘Have you always enjoyed cooking?’ he asked as she mixed a crumble topping, covered the fruit and put the dish in the oven.

‘I loved helping Mum on baking days as a child.’ She glanced at him, her smile reminiscent. ‘She was a wonderful cook. “Plain home food”, she called it, nothing fancy, but it was delicious. She made her own bread, and we had all sorts of cakes, biscuits and puddings to come home to. It’s nice having a chance to feed others.’

The aromas permeating the kitchen made his tummy rumble. ‘You have a grateful recipient of your food here.’

‘Thanks.’ A flush of pleasure brought a rosy glow to her cheeks.

As Max enjoyed his bottle, Gus reflected on their visit to the solicitor. He’d been shocked to discover how desperate Julia’s financial situation had been—something she’d lied about—but how that had affected Holly he wasn’t sure. Given the way James Russell had consoled her, and Holly’s pale cheeks and shocked expression, something was wrong. But what? He was wary of upsetting the truce between them by asking questions and raising contentious issues.

One task he’d been putting off was sorting Julia’s belongings. It wasn’t a prospect he relished, but it needed to be done. And he had to find out what Holly wanted to keep, and what her views were on disposing of the rest.

As Max finished his milk Gus shifted him to his shoulder and gently patted his back to wind him. A surprisingly
loud and satisfied belch emerged and Gus looked up, meeting Holly’s amused gaze.

‘My son…the champion burper,’ he commented wryly, and she laughed, the infectious sound warming him.

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