LITMIR.BIZ

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him, cracked too.

      Maeve turned her back on him and climbed awkwardly into his car. The realisation that she couldn’t protect Simon from this shock forever hit her.

      ‘Come on. Let’s get it over with. You need to see Simon and then we need to talk.’

      Simon came out of the house when the car pulled up and a petite blonde woman followed him. Rayne remembered now that Maeve had said Simon was engaged. This would be some first introduction.

      Rayne climbed out and walked around to open the passenger door; he glanced at his old friend, who looked less than pleased, and then back at the woman’s hand he wanted to hold more than anything else in the world.

      For an icy moment there he thought she wasn’t going to allow him that privilege—right when he needed her most—but then she uncurled her closed fist and allowed her fingers to slide in beside his. By the time Simon had arrived she was standing beside him. Solidarity he hadn’t expected.

      ‘They let you out?’ There was no Christmas spirit in that statement, Rayne thought sardonically to himself, though couldn’t say he could blame him, considering Maeve’s condition.

      He stared into Simon’s face. Felt the coolness between them like an open wound. ‘I wanted to explain.’ He shrugged. ‘It just didn’t happen.’

      ‘Instead, you slept with my sister.’

      ‘There’s that.’ To hell with this.

      He just wanted it over. Tell Simon the truth. Let Maeve know at least the father of her baby wasn’t a criminal. At the very least. Then get the hell away from here because these people didn’t deserve him to infect their live with the disaster that seemed to follow him around.

      ‘When my mother died there wasn’t a reason for me to be in there any more. She told them the truth before she overdosed and they dropped the charges.’

      Maeve’s breath drew in beside him. ‘Your mother died?’ Felt her hand, a precious hand he’d forgotten he still held, tighten in his. She squeezed his fingers and he looked down at her. Saw the genuine sympathy and felt more upset than he had for the last horrific year. How could she be so quick to feel sorry for him when he’d ruined her life with his own selfishness? That thought hurt even more.

      ‘You took the rap for your mother!’ Simon’s curt statement wasn’t a question. ‘Of course you did.’ He slapped himself on the forehead. Repeated, ‘Of course you did.’

      He didn’t want to talk about his mother. Didn’t want sympathy. He spoke to Simon. ‘I understand you not wanting me here.’

      He forced himself to let go of Maeve’s hand. ‘Take Maeve inside. She fainted earlier, though she didn’t fall.’ He heard Simon’s swift intake of breath and saw the blonde woman, from hanging back, shift into gear to swift concern.

      He felt Maeve’s glance. Her hand brushed the woman’s gesture away. ‘No. We need to talk.’

      ‘I’ll come back later when you’ve had a chance to rest. I’ll find somewhere to stay for tonight.’

      And give myself a chance to think, at least, he thought. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a piece of paper on which he’d written his number. ‘This is my mobile number. Phone me when you’ve rested.’ And then he spun on his heel and walked away from the lot of them, wishing he had warned them he was coming, though he wasn’t sure it would have gone over any better if he had.

      Well, they knew the truth now. He’d done what he’d come to do. Learnt something he’d never envisaged and was still grappling with that momentous news. He allowed himself one long sweeping glance over the woman he had dreamed about every night, soaking in the splendour that was Maeve. Her breasts full and ripe for his child, her belly swollen and taut, and her face pale with the distress he’d caused her.

      Maeve allowed Tara to steer her back inside, up the hallway to her bedroom, because suddenly she felt as weak as a kitten. Simon was still standing on the street, watching the black utility disappear down the road with a frown on his face, but she’d worry about Simon later.

      An almost silent whistle from Tara beside her drew her attention as she sat down on her bed. ‘So that’s Rayne. Not quite what I imagined. A tad larger than life.’ Tara squeezed her arm in sympathy. ‘You look pale from shock.’

      Maeve grimaced in agreement. Glanced at Tara, calm and methodical as usual as she helped her take off her shoes. ‘It was a shock. And highly embarrassing. Not only did I faint but then proceeded to throw up in front of him.’

      She felt the assessing glance Tara cast over her. ‘For a very pregnant lady you’ve had a busy morning and it hasn’t really started yet.’

      It was barely seven o’clock. ‘Lucky I got up early. It was supposed to be a gentle Christmas morning walk for Simon’s newspaper.’

      ‘The shop won’t be open. But your Rayne is a Christmas present with a difference.’ Tara laughed. ‘What was it you said when you described him to me? A head taller and shoulders like a front-row forward and those dark eyes. No wonder you fell for him, boots and all.’

      A fallen woman. And still in love with him, boots and all. ‘Is it mad that even after ten minutes with him after all this time, I wanted to go with him? That I feel like we’ve been together for so much more than one night? That I can even feel that when he’s just been away? When even I know that’s too simplistic and whitewashed.’

      She saw Tara look towards the bedside table, cross to her glass of water and bring it back for her. ‘Even from where I was standing, I could feel the energy between you two. I wouldn’t be surprised if Simon felt it too.’

      ‘Thanks for that, at least.’ She took a sip of water and it did make her feel a little clearer. ‘Problem is, I was okay to sleep with but not okay to tell that he was going to prison.’

      ‘Well.’ Tara looked thoughtful. ‘It seems he has got an explanation if he took the blame for his mother. And things are different now. He can’t just walk away and think you’ll be better off without him without even discussing it.’

      She touched Maeve’s shoulder in sympathy. ‘And you have been carrying his child. So I guess at least a part of him has been with you since then.’ Tara gave her a quick hug. ‘He looks tough and self-sufficient but doesn’t look a bad man.’

      She knew he wasn’t. From the bottom of her heart. ‘He’s not. I believe he’s a good man.’ She stroked her belly gently. ‘I have to believe that if he’s going to be part of our lives. And until this …’ she patted her belly again ‘… Simon wouldn’t hear a wrong word said about him.’ She glanced at Tara and smiled to lighten the dramatic morning. ‘And we both know Simon has good taste.’

      Tara blushed but brushed that aside. ‘Did he say he wants to be a part of your lives?’

      In what brief window of opportunity? ‘We didn’t get that far. What with me fainting like a goose at the sight of him.’ Maeve shook her head. Thought about it. ‘He said he hadn’t opened my mail. That he didn’t know I was pregnant.’ She thought some more. ‘But he didn’t look horrified when I told him.’

      ‘Helpful. Though why he wouldn’t open your mail has me puzzled.’

      Me, too. ‘I’ll be asking that when he comes back. And it’s Christmas morning.’ She suddenly thought of the impact of her commotion on everyone else’s day. That’s what Lyrebird Lake did to you. Made you begin to think more of other people. ‘I hope it doesn’t spoil your first Christmas with Simon. I feel like I’m gatecrashing your engagement celebrations with my dramas.’

      ‘Nothing can spoil that.’ A lovely smile from Tara. ‘I’m just glad we’re here for you. No better time for family. And Simon will be fine.’

      Tara had said family. The idea shone like a star in a dark night sky. It was a good time for family. Tara had probably meant Simon’s

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