Trish Wylie - Rescued - Mother-To-Be

‘What else do you remember?’

Colleen turned her face away from his intensive gaze, her voice dropping. ‘I have the memory of an elephant.’ She smiled. ‘Size of one at the minute too.’

‘You keep on doing that. You’re not all that big. You’re having a baby, and that’s one of the most amazing things a woman can do.’

The softly spoken words touched a chord in her heart. She looked over at him, but he had turned his face away, leaving only his profile to her inquisitive gaze as he bit into his own sandwich.

It was one of the nicest things anyone had said to her of late. And at a time when she could stand a compliment or two. Waddling around every day certainly didn’t make her feel amazing.

But her guilt was still present, and she just didn’t know how to answer him because of it. She didn’t deserve compliments from him.

While she thought, Eamonn was doing some thinking of his own. Without changing position, he stared straight ahead and asked, ‘How long since he left?’

In a split second the warm glow from his words disappeared and was replaced by an icy chill. ‘Six months.’

Out of his peripheral vision he saw her head bow, her attention back on her food. So he turned his face towards her and watched the slow flutter of her long lashes against her cheeks. ‘What happened?’

Setting her sandwich back on the plate, she reached for the warmth of her mug, wrapping cold fingers around it. ‘He left with one of the stable girls. They’d been carrying on for a while.’

Eamonn might be many things, but slow wasn’t one of them. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d been so defensive earlier, when he’d been talking to the girls? It had brought back bad memories for her. But he let it go. One step at a time, Eamonn. Pushing Colleen didn’t always have the desired result, after all.

‘You had no idea it was going on?’

‘I think I knew, deep down. But I’m stubborn, remember? I thought it would all work itself out.’ She spoke over the rim of the cup, shrugging her shoulders. ‘He could be very charming, and I think a part of me was swept off my feet by him. At least at the start. So I could hardly blame some naïve girl for falling for him.’

She touched her mouth to the mug, hesitated, and glanced briefly at Eamonn’s face. ‘We see what we want to see sometimes, I guess.’

‘Did he know you were pregnant?’

‘Yes. No man who’s about to be a father shouldn’t know, don’t you think?’

Eamonn tilted his head and nodded briefly as she sipped out of her mug. ‘I’d want to know if you were having my baby.’

Colleen almost choked on her tea, her eyes watering as she forced it to go down the right channel without too much fuss. Dear Lord. Had he any idea what that statement did to a mind already full of night-time images? If he’d said something like that to her when she’d carried all those unrequited dreams before…

‘But then if it was mine I would never have left.’

Oh, c’mon! Her eyes widened at the statement as she turned to look at him. Why did he have to say things like that? Why did the words just have to roll off his tongue as if he was discussing the weather? Had he really no idea of the dreams she’d had as a teenager? Had he no idea at all that hearing parts of them spoken aloud now was like a kick in the teeth to a woman who had so seriously managed to pick the wrong man to be father to her child?

When she found words, they were almost a plea for him to understand how ridiculous his own words had been. ‘Right—that’s what you’d do. Even if it meant staying in a place where you hated being. That makes a lot of sense.’

‘I didn’t hate it here.’

She made a small snort of disbelief.

But his voice remained steady. ‘I just didn’t feel like I fitted in, and I was young—I thought there was more to life. That I should have a go at finding out.’

‘And was there?’

There was a brief electric pause as he looked her in the eye. Then he shrugged. ‘I’ve made more money in the States than I would ever have done here, that’s for sure.’

‘And is that enough? Are you happy, Eamonn?’

The sound of his name in such a soft tone caught him. Without thinking, he brought his gaze back to her mouth, and he stared for a long moment, mesmerised, before forcing himself to look up. He blinked—once, twice. Then, still not thinking it through, he reached a finger out and tucked the ever-errant strand of hair behind her ear again, before pushing his chair back, his voice low. ‘I’m not so sure it is enough.’

Looking down at her stunned expression, he smiled wryly. ‘And, just for the record, that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.’

A GROWN, mature woman, in charge of her faculties really shouldn’t feel shyness. But it was like being fifteen all over again when she ventured into the house after dark.

All afternoon—while she’d made phone calls, arranged for vet visits, ordered wormers and checked feed store levels—her mind had been obsessed by one fleeting touch and a softly spoken confession.

Which had led her to ask several silent questions. The main one being: what had happened to him since he’d left?

Surely someone who looked the way he did hadn’t been lonely? At least not for long. Colleen remembered vividly how girls had gravitated towards him. She’d hated every single one of them back in the day.

And yet the look on his face when he’d spoken had reflected a deep sense of loneliness, almost of need. The part of her that had cared so much for him so many years ago desperately wanted to understand why. Not that there was anything she could do to help beyond listening—if he would deign to talk.

It was a complication she could have done without. One that held her own confession back when it really should be something she got out into the open. Sooner rather than later. Avoiding it just made it worse.

As she kicked off her boots at the back door an unfamiliar noise greeted her ears. And as she worked her way through the kitchen and along the hall it got louder, positively deafening by the time she reached the family room at the front of the house.

When she peeked around the half-open door she couldn’t help but smile.

Eamonn’s head was nodding up and down in time to the music, his hand absentmindedly playing an air guitar with one hand as he looked through the dusty box in front of him with the other.

And then his voice sounded, loud and distinctly off-key, as he joined in with the music.

Colleen hid her mouth behind her hand and giggled. She couldn’t help herself.

But he obviously hadn’t heard her. He shook his head again, the curls on his dark cap of hair shifting, and then he raised both hands above the box and drummed in time with the bass beat.

With her hand still covering her mouth she let her eyes move over him from her position of safety. From the shifting curls, down past his wide shoulders to his tapering waist and the rounded curve of his behind. And deep inside of herself a mischievous imp prayed he would wiggle it. Just the once. Please.

Of course he chose that moment to turn and look directly at her.

Her eyes shot up and met his.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his hands lowered to his sides, and he smiled a little ruefully before moving over to the old record player and turning down the volume.

After a brief clearing of his throat, his deep voice rumbled in the sudden quiet. ‘I found some of my old collection up in my room.’

She plucked up her courage and walked into the room. ‘So I heard. Nice singing, by the way.’

His shoulders shook briefly in silent laughter. ‘Never did have much of a singing voice.’