Their Newborn Gift Page 17

  Lea’s chest crushed in painfully but she nodded, knowing it was true. Reilly had made sure all the emergency services had Molly’s information. The Royal Flying Doctor Service was the most likely service to come for her. It was why they were here—the airstrip.

  She’d do well to remember that.

  ‘Or are you just looking for a reason to opt out? I won’t force you to come.’

  Lea studied him. Was she? ‘No. I’d like to come. I’d like to understand you better.’ Heat flooded her cheeks. Understand it better, she’d meant to say.

  His eyes held hers, silent, as unforgiving as ever in these past, tense weeks.

  Then his hands went back to his belt and unbuckled it with the economy of years of practice and it flew to the big bed with a decided snap. ‘In that case, I’d better get cleaned up. I’ll come for you just before noon.’

  She heard his jeans unzip as he turned back to the bathroom. She spun round and hurried back down the hall, cheeks flaming.

  The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, mocking her haste.

  It wasn’t what she’d expected. What she’d feared.

  The particular rodeo fraternity that Reilly belonged to was more conscious of public expectation than others she’d heard of. Their event was family friendly; the horses and bulls won their rounds more often than the riders, which gave Lea a sense that it was a little more equal than she’d believed.

  Reilly and a second pick-up rider were mounted for the whole event, glued to their saddles like they were born there. They cleared the arena between rides, ensuring the keyed-up bulls could find their way to the safety of the holding yards after they’d tossed their riders free. But their primary job was to pick up the bareback bronco-riders once they’d hit their eight seconds.

  There was no good way off a suicide-ride bronco, so Reilly rode up hard next to the bucking, crazed horse long enough for the competitor to leap from the wild horse across the back of Reilly’s bombproof one. Then they’d slide off the back, and Reilly and his partner would flank the wild-eyed bronco with their mounts so that it felt protected by the herd. Then they’d reach over and un-strap the binding tethers.

  It calmed them instantly.

  ‘Reilly!’ Her hand shot to her mouth and silenced her accidental outburst. No one heard her under the cheering. She’d caught herself exclaiming much more for the pick-up teams and the hapless bulls than for the competitors themselves. If they wanted to maim themselves in the name of sport, they could go ahead. Riding pick-up seemed highly dangerous, but she could see the importance of the role. Reilly was not only responsible for the safety of the competitors but the welfare of the animals. Their contribution directly calmed the stressed livestock.

  She struggled not to approve of that.

  As she watched, Reilly cut a particularly recalcitrant bull into the holding area, finally ending its run around the arena; it snorted and bucked after the unprotected competitor threw himself over a barrier wall.

  ‘And there goes Reilly Martin on his workhorse, Sprocket,’ the announcer boomed into the PA system as Reilly slung the gate shut behind the bull. ‘Nice work, mate. And nice horse, too. He breeds those himself out at Minamurra.’

  The large crowd applauded as Reilly gave a humble wave of thanks for the plug, and Lea found herself unable to take her eyes off his confidence. The way he worked the horse with his legs, the stability of his seat, the teamwork between horse and rider; she wondered what he must have looked like competing in events but was glad he wouldn’t be tonight. Her heart wouldn’t be up to it.

  Right on cue, Reilly glanced into the stands and found her with shielded eyes. She gave him a nervous smile. Not rude, but hardly encouraging. He looked away.

  Damn.

  Around her, hundreds of people were crammed into the public seating. Families, couples, singles on the prowl. It seemed like rodeo was a perfectly acceptable Valentine’s activity in this part of the country. She let her eyes wander over the families, the husbands and wives, the partners. How many of them lived in marriages that were more about binding properties together, or settling for the nearest female, or surviving in harsh country? The bush seemed too sparse a place for every one of these people to have found the perfect love-match.

  Maybe others out there had made the same kind of concession that she was making. For family.

  Settling.

  The thumping music increased in volume, signalling a break, and Lea knew the rodeo clowns would be back. The head clown performed for the kids in the crowd as, off to one side, new bulls were loaded into the six arena-chutes, awaiting their eight seconds of liberty.

  The clown called three children from the crowd, none of them older than Molly, and had them out there with him now, solving a giant barrel-puzzle in the heart of the arena, going for the prize of a real-life cowboy hat. The three of them worked against the clock to win the hat, while the clanking of chute after chute being loaded with angry bulls was drowned out by the loud music.

  Lea flicked her eyes to where Reilly lounged on horseback off to one side, taking a break until the pick-up team was needed again. Long display-chaps hung down from his hips, over his legs and stirrups, and fed the illusion that he was part of the horse. It was stupidly sexy. As if he needed any help with that.

  Her heart thudded in time with the music.

  Every eye in the place was on the activity in the centre of the arena, except Lea’s. As if sensing her interest, Reilly turned and encountered her bold stare.

  Hey.

  Brown eyes held hers as his horse danced under him.

  Hey yourself.

  And then, barely consciously, her eye refocussed just past his shoulder, at the chute behind him being loaded with bulls. As she watched, a clamp in one of the chutes gave way to the pressure of one ton of angry bull slamming against it and, virtually in slow motion, the gate flung open into the arena, releasing an explosion of angry, bovine flesh.

  Lea shot to her feet at the same time that she screamed Reilly’s name.

  He spun around, saw the disaster unfolding and then turned with Lea to look at the children standing unprotected in the centre of the arena. He dug his heels cruelly into Sprocket. Cattle hands leapt down off their chutes, and the head clown caught on just as Sprocket lurched into a standing gallop. The clown sprinted forward, slowed by his giant clown shoes, grabbed a child under each arm then bolted for the boundary fence. He practically threw them over into the arms of waiting strangers and leapt up onto the fence himself. He just didn’t have enough arms for all three children.

  Reilly bore down like a missile on the tiny, blond boy left standing frozen in the ring. So did the bull. The two animals raced for the centre of the arena, but Reilly got there first. The bull stopped to take its fury out on one of the empty barrels with his blunted horns and Reilly slid from the saddle, hanging by one hand on its pommel, and scooped the remaining child up into his arms. He righted himself and kicked the responsive Sprocket into high gear again.

  The entire audience was on its feet, and several people screamed hysterically. Reilly galloped around the far side of the bull, keeping the child away from the feral animal, and his eyes hunted out Lea in the surging crowd.

  She pushed forward.

  He slammed Sprocket up against the barrier fence hard and hurled the screaming child towards her even as her arms reached out. There was no time for something gentler. Adrenaline gave her the strength to catch the flailing boy and fold him into her arms as though he were Molly, rocking and soothing him as only a mother could.

  As she rocked, her eyes sought Reilly out in the arena, her heart thundering painfully. He was circling the bull, letting it burn off some of its aggression on the hapless barrels. The prized cowboy-hat lay crushed in the red dirt, trampled by massive hooves. Four clowns and the other pick-up guy got in on the act and worked with Reilly to encourage the panicked bull back into the holding yard, which now stood wide open. Someone released other steers into the arena and they immedi
ately formed a small herd, drawing the overwhelmed animal into their centre. Reilly worked the herd like he’d worked the brumbies, cutting them back and round until all five of them obediently trotted through the exit gate to the holding yards.

  As it swung shut, a blonde woman crashed headlong into Lea and the boy in her arms, tearing him from her careful hold, a mother’s tears streaming down her face.

  Lea felt her own start to run at what they’d all just witnessed, the deathly disaster they’d very nearly had. She thought immediately of Molly.

  Her streaming eyes lifted to the arena. Reilly leaned stiffly down from his horse to a group of officials who’d gathered around the broken chute, and whatever he said had impact because one of them nodded, looked to the announcer’s box and cut his flattened hand across his throat. Loud music burst into life and waiting competitors stood down from their positions.

  The rodeo was over.

  Sprocket’s eyes were white and rolling and his glossy coat was now flecked with foam as Reilly walked him back across the arena. He patted the horse’s neck reassuringly and then cut a direct course for Lea, lifting stricken eyes to hers.

  She didn’t hesitate.

  She clambered to the front row of the tiered seating that looked down over the sunken arena and pressed her body over the barrier. Reilly threw down the reins and turned the horse against the barrier with his legs. Without thinking, Lea, threw her arms around him, her feet practically leaving the stadium seats, and she buried her face in his neck. He stank of sweat and horse and fear. But she held on for dear life.

  He slid his arms up to hold her, steady her, and wrapped them hard around her body. Both of them were shaking. She wasn’t yet capable of speech, only action. Right now, in this moment, she didn’t care how hard she’d worked to keep him at a distance, the pledge she’d made him give. She only knew that she’d felt the same gut-tearing fear when Reilly was in danger as she felt for Molly. The fear of losing someone she…

  Oh, God. Realisation battered her like the bull’s horns on a barrel.

  She loved Reilly Martin. Desperately and entirely, despite every precaution she’d taken. Despite knowing she was just a means to an end for him. Knowing that he didn’t love her back.

  She took his face in both her hands and then kissed him as though it was her child he’d just saved. Her body thrilled at the double rush of adrenaline and pure foolish, misguided love, her heart bursting with the ache. A dull kind of sickness spread through her as she realised what she had to do. What loving him meant.

  She worshipped him with her mouth. Kissing him as though it was the very last time she ever would.

  She was absolutely certain it would be.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘OKAY, Lea?’ Reilly’s concerned eyes moved between her and the drenched road ahead.

  Her misery doubled, but she faked a smile and a nod. ‘Just tired.’

  The rain had started again when they were an hour out of Kununurra. Reilly’s battered old Land Rover was comfortable and solid, and he mastered it and the horse trailer with supreme confidence through the wet. Lea stared out into the darkness and let the rain drumming on the roof lull her into a half-sleep. She twisted against the ache in her body caused by two close encounters with a steel barrier.

  Reilly’s eyes returned to the road.

  How could she have done it? Not the kissing; that had just been pure gut-reaction. A release of endorphins and tension from their near miss. And God knew it was hard to regret something that felt that good. That right.

  It was what lay behind the kissing that disturbed her. She’d been so terrified for Reilly, certain in that moment that she was going to lose another person that she…The sick feeling swelled back up. Another person she loved—love, not attraction. Not affection. The real McCoy.

  She loved him despite his terrible cockiness, his fondness for taking charge, his long history of empty relationships. She loved him because of his essential goodness, his tenderness. His heartbreakingly beautiful smile.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  How could this happen? He’d forced her to sign over her child to him. He’d put conditions on the saving of Molly’s life. She’d resigned herself to that, had decided it was survivable, because of Molly. She would endure. Giving up the child was her price to pay.

  Then he’d handed her the miracle she’d been waiting for—the chance to stay together. To be a family.

  A deep hollowness opened up in her chest like a cavern collapsing. Pain rushed in to fill the void. She’d spent over twenty years waiting for her father’s love, trying to earn it, never being quite worthy. Could she really do the same for the rest of her life with the feelings she had for Reilly? Knowing he was only with her because she came as part of the family package?

  Knowing she faced a lifetime of unreturned love?

  It would eat her up. But if she didn’t stay…She pressed the heel of her hand to her left breast to stop her heart haemorrhaging.

  ‘Why don’t you try and get some sleep?’ Concerned, dark eyes were on her again.

  He still worried about her, despite everything she’d done to him. Everything she’d said at New Year. He was a good man with so much to offer a child, the right woman, no matter what hurdles she set up in front of him. Reilly deserved his chance at fatherhood. She couldn’t bear the idea of banishing him to the place he feared the most: a life of loneliness. He’d spent his one chance of fatherhood on saving Molly. Which meant she just couldn’t keep the baby she was carrying. His baby.

  The haemorrhage widened out to become a swollen ache in her chest. She pressed harder. They had a contract. More importantly, she could never bring herself to do that to him.

  The ache moved south into her gut. Her hand slid to her belly. But that meant giving birth to this little life and then handing it over, pretending it had never existed. Could she wind back the clock nine months? Go back to how it was before she’d driven down Minamurra’s long, tree-lined driveway?

  Just mother and daughter. Except Molly would be robust and healthy, whereas she…

  She would never be quite whole again.

  But she would survive. She always did. She took a deep breath, knowing what had to be done.

  ‘Reilly?’

  He looked at her. Those brown eyes ate into her resolve like acid. This was the best way. A tiny hint of sweat broke out on her skin. ‘What happened tonight…’

  ‘Lea, that never should have happened. There’ll be a formal investigation. Rodeo’s not normally like that.’

  His unexpected response dented her momentum. She blinked.

  He took his focus from the road to glance at her speculatively. ‘But that’s not what we’re talking about?’

  The guarded expression in his eyes hit her low and hard. She squirmed against the sensation. ‘No.’

  ‘You’re talking about the kiss?’

  Close enough. It was somewhere to start. She’d kissed him as though they were making love on horseback. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t fair.’

  ‘On who? Did you hear me complaining?’

  No, he hadn’t complained. He’d kissed her back as if she were pure oxygen. Her voice cracked. ‘You’re a good person, Reilly. I don’t want to end up hurting you. Hating you.’

  His hands stiffened on the steering wheel. ‘Why would you do that?’

  The windscreen wipers swished back and forth in time with her pulse. She winced as a pang of regret stabbed through her, low and hard. ‘I can’t do it, Reilly. I can’t stay for ever.’ She saw his face grey in front of her. ‘I need to leave once the baby’s born.’

  A muscle ticked high in his jaw. ‘We had an agreement.’

  ‘I’ll honour the contract.’

  ‘Forget the contract.’ He slammed the steering wheel in frustration. ‘I thought we’d agreed, between us, that you would stay. You thought about it long enough.’

  ‘I didn’t…’ know I loved you then ‘…think the ramification
s through.’

  Poisoned pain spat from his eyes. ‘Seems to be the story of your life, Lea. Now you’re wanting out of a relationship after just a few weeks.’

  Hurt slashed through her. ‘It’s not a relationship, Reilly, it’s an arrangement. Don’t you want more?’

  Brown eyes blazed. ‘Damn right I want more. But we don’t always get what we want.’

  The truth of that stabbed her sharply. Twice. In close succession. Lea frowned. ‘Reilly…’

  ‘You’re running from this because you’re afraid you don’t know how to be a family, Lea. You’ve isolated yourself for so long.’

  Her frown grew into a wince as more pain sliced across her abdomen. Only part of it was her heart rupturing. Her hand curled around the door handle.

  No…‘Reilly…’

  ‘I’m prepared to put up with a lot, Lea, in the interests of our children having a proper family. But I’m not going to beg.’

  ‘Reilly!’ Her sharp tone finally got his attention. His mouth snapped shut and he glared at her. She took a deep breath and spoke with a shaky voice. ‘I think I’m in labour.’

  The anger fell from his face along with all the blood. ‘But it’s too soon.’

  Lea pushed herself up off the seat to ease another spasm. It was all very familiar. Molly had started this way, except weeks later in the pregnancy. Her heart pounded. ‘Thank you for pointing out the obvious. Shall I convince him to go back in?’

  Reilly cursed and then swung the vehicle and horse trailer to the side of the road. He turned back to her immediately, reaching for his satellite phone. ‘You’ll be okay, Lea. We’re closer to the hospital here than if you’d gone into labour at Minamurra.’

  The quiet confidence in his voice reassured her momentarily. Then another spasm ripped through her belly. She groaned. It shouldn’t be that soon.

  ‘Please, no…’

  Her whispered plea filled the car. They both knew the consequences if anything went wrong with this pregnancy: no baby, no stem cells.

  No stem cells, no Molly.

  No Molly. A tiny voice whispered through that terrible fear; no Molly, and there would be no reason in the world for Reilly and Lea to remain in each other’s lives.