Annie Claydon - Saved By The Single Dad - A Single Dad Romance

Martin nodded. ‘Yeah. Bit too resourceful sometimes. Now, important question. Tea or coffee? I don’t think I can keep the Monday Club under control for much longer.’

Jack chuckled. ‘Tea. Milk, no sugar, thanks.’

‘Good. And I hope you like flapjacks or I’m going to have a riot on my hands.’

‘You seem very organised here.’

Martin nodded. ‘This church has been taking people in for the last eight hundred years. Wars, famine, fires... Now floods. I’ve never seen anything like this, though, and I’ve been here fifteen years. Half the village is flooded out.’

‘How many people do you have here?’

‘Just a couple of families staying overnight. We’ve found everyone else billets in people’s homes. But everyone eats here, and we have an action committee...’ Martin shrugged, grinning. ‘That’s Cass’s baby. I confine myself to tea and sympathy.’

Jack reckoned that Martin was downplaying his own considerable role. ‘And hospitality.’

‘We’ve never turned anyone away before, and that’s not going to start on my watch.’ A trace of determination broke through Martin’s affable smile and was quickly hidden. ‘Anything else you need?’

‘A phone? I’d like to call home.’

‘Yes, of course. The landline at the vicarage is still working; you can use that.’ Martin turned, making for the door. ‘Come to the kitchen when you’re ready and I’ll take you over there.’

CHAPTER TWO

MARTIN OPENED A side door that led out of the kitchen and they walked along a paved path, sheltered by makeshift awnings that boasted a few scraps of soggy coloured bunting hanging from the corners. Then through a gate and into the vicarage kitchen, which oozed warmth and boasted a table large enough to seat a dozen people.

Lynette was red-haired like her sister, her features prettier and yet somehow far less attractive. She was heavily pregnant and Jack’s first impressions were that she was in the best of health. Although she’d been having minor contractions, she seemed stubbornly positive that the baby wasn’t coming yet. Jack begged to differ, but kept that thought to himself.

He left Lynette on the sofa by the kitchen range and sat down at the table, where a cup of tea was waiting for him. ‘I’ll be able to examine you a little more thoroughly when your sister gets back with my medical bag.’

‘Thanks. But there’s really no need to worry. First babies are always late, aren’t they?’

Sue, the vicar’s wife, frowned. ‘Not necessarily. My Josh was early.’ She pushed a large plate of flapjacks across the table towards Jack. ‘If I eat another one of those I’ll be sorry when I get on the scales. I wish the Monday Club would stop cooking...’

Lynette laughed. ‘Not much chance of that. Mrs Hawes doesn’t like to see anyone going hungry.’

Sue sighed, looking up as someone rapped on the glass pane of the back door. ‘It’s open...’

The door swung inwards and two bags were placed inside. Then Cass appeared, her hair wet and slicked back from her face, holding her muddy boots in one hand and her wet jacket and overtrousers in the other. Sue relieved her of them and disappeared to put them in the front porch.

‘You got two across?’ Jack bent to inspect the contents of the bags.

‘Yeah, we got a line over about quarter of a mile down from the bridge. Mimi’s okay and she’s going back to the hospital with what’s-his-name.’ The corners of her mouth quirked into an expression that would have been unfathomable if Jack hadn’t been able to guess the situation. ‘She sends you her love.’

Jack nodded, drawing a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from the bag. ‘Right, ladies. If you’re comfortable here, Lynette, I’ll get on and do a more thorough examination.’

* * *

He’d given Lynette one last flash of those tender eyes and smiled at her, pronouncing that everything was fine. Lynette hadn’t even noticed what he hadn’t said, but Cass had.

‘She’s in the early stages of labour, isn’t she?’ Cass had shown him through to the small room behind the church hall, which had been earmarked as his sleeping quarters and already boasted a hastily erected camp bed in the corner, with sheets and blankets folded on top of it.

‘Yes. Although this could be a false alarm...’

Another thing he wasn’t saying. ‘And it might not be.’

‘Yes.’ He scrubbed his hand back across his scalp, his short dark hair spiking untidily. ‘I have everything I need, and I’ve delivered babies plenty of times before.’

‘Really?’ Jack was saying everything she wanted to hear, and Cass wondered how much of it was just reassurance.

‘It’s not ideal, but we’ll get her to the hospital as soon as the weather lifts. In the meantime, you’ve done your job and you can rely on me to do mine.’

A small curl of warmth quieted some of the fear. ‘Thanks. This baby is...’ Important. All babies were important, but this one was important to her.

‘I know. And he’s going to be fine.’ His eyes made her believe it. ‘Is the father on the scene?’

‘Very much so. He’s not here, though; Lynette’s husband is in the Royal Navy and he’s away at the moment. My father works abroad too; Mum was going to come home next week to help out.’

‘So it’s just you and me then.’ He contrived to make that sound like a good thing. ‘You’re her birth partner?’

‘Yep.’ Cass pressed her lips together. Going to classes with Lynette had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. The most beautiful form of sharing between sisters. Now it was all terrifying.

‘Good.’ His gaze chipped away at yet another piece of the fear that had been laying heavy on her chest for days, and suddenly Cass wondered if she might not make a half decent job of it after all.

‘I’d rather be...’ Anything. ‘I’d rather be doing something practical.’

He laughed. ‘This is the most practical thing in the world, Cass. The one thing that never changes, and hopefully never will. You’ll both be fine.’

She knew that he was trying to reassure her, and that his You’ll both be fine wasn’t a certainty, but somehow it seemed to be working. She walked over to the coil of ropes and pulleys that had been dumped here while she’d taken the bags through to the vicarage.

‘I’ll get these out of your way.’

‘Let me help you.’ Before she could stop him, he’d picked up the rope, leaving Cass to collect the remaining pulleys and carabiners up and put them into a rucksack. ‘You used this to get the bags across?’

‘Yeah.’ Hopefully he was too busy thinking about childbirth to take much notice of what he was carrying. The cut end was clearly visible, hanging from the coil of rope. ‘I borrowed the gear from one of the guys in the village who goes mountaineering.’ She slung the rucksack over her shoulder and led the way through to the storeroom, indicating an empty patch of floor, but Jack shook his head.

‘Not there; it’s too close to the radiator and rope degrades if it dries out too fast. Help me move these boxes and we’ll lay it flat over here.’

Cass dumped the rucksack and started to lift the boxes out of the way. ‘You know something about rope?’

‘Enough to know that this one’s been cut recently, while it was under stress. Mountaineering ropes don’t just break.’ He bent to finger the cut end and then turned his gaze on to her.

The security services had missed a trick in not recruiting Jack and putting him to work as an interrogator. Those quiet eyes made it impossible not to admit to her greatest follies. ‘I...cut the rope.’

Somehow that wasn’t enough. He didn’t even need to ask; Cass found herself needing to tell him the rest.