Wishing for a Miracle (13 page)

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Authors: Alison Roberts

BOOK: Wishing for a Miracle
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With Joe's help, he built up a roaring log fire to warm the whole room. With Maggie's help to locate linen and pillows, they made a bed for Katie on the couch. She directed them to where the bassinette and supplies of baby clothes were upstairs and then to a high shelf in the pantry where they found candles and kerosene lamps.

Mac felt like the hero of the hour when he made use of their sophisticated radio equipment to make contact with the local police, who managed to locate Katie's husband, Doug. He was at a neighbour's property,
having been caught on the wrong side of the river when the water level rose. He was safe and so was the farm truck and the four dogs but he had no way of getting home. He had been beside himself with anxiety but, thanks to modern, satellite technology, the parents of the brand-new baby were able to have a brief conversation. Mac had to stay close to make sure Katie had no problems working the radio. Julia was hovering close to Maggie, who sat in an armchair with her baby sister in her arms. There was no way to avoid hearing both sides of the radio conversation.

‘Are you all right, love?'

‘I'm fine, Doug. I've had the best care you could imagine. Just as good as it could have been in the hospital, honestly.'

Julia looked up and smiled and Mac smiled back. It was true. She had every right to look proud of herself and he was only too happy to share the moment.

‘She's here, Doug,' Katie said brokenly. ‘Our wee girl is here at last and…and she's gorgeous.'

‘Of course she is. Just like her mother.'

‘I wish you were here with us…' Tears were streaming down Katie's face now and Mac saw Julia biting her lip in sympathy.

‘I am,' came a gruff voice amidst radio crackle. ‘I'm there, Katie. I'm with you. In your heart.'

Such an unexpected thing to hear a staunch farmer say. Mac could hear the love. Could see it as he looked around to find the three older children all sitting as still as mice, listening to their father's voice. He could imagine this room in a day or two with no strangers in
here. Maybe the dogs were allowed to lie in front of the fire and Doug would be here with his wife and all these beautiful children.

How could Julia not want something like this in her future? He took the radio from Katie and clipped it back to his belt, carefully avoiding a glance in Julia's direction.

‘We'll get this all sorted in the morning,' he promised. ‘We'll get your whole family back under the same roof, don't you fret.'

And, in the meantime, they had what amounted to a great substitute family right here.

Joe had clearly been adopted as a grandfather by the two small boys, who both wanted to spend as much time as possible on his knee, listening to stories.

Maggie was the responsible eldest child who was determined to nurse her mother and boss the younger children.

Mac stepped into Doug's shoes to cut and haul firewood to ensure the house was warm. He made sure doors and windows were securely latched against the weather and followed Katie's instructions to put a meal on the table and, later, to get the children into their beds.

Julia was a chameleon. A big sister for Maggie, encouraging her and helping only when needed. A medic making sure her patients were comfortable and cared for and that all the necessary paperwork was meticulously filled in. A fun aunty when it came to face washing and teeth cleaning and pyjamas for the little boys. Hearing her laughter mingled with the giggles of small children was like a slap in the face for Mac.

Even harder to see was the way she was another mother for tiny Fiona.

It was Julia who gently washed the baby on a mattress of soft towels in front of the fire and then dressed her in the soft, warm baby clothes available.

‘They were mine,' Maggie said proudly. ‘When I was a wee baby like Noni.'

Julia sat with Katie as she fed the baby and watched over them both with the same proud smile Mac had shared earlier.

And it was Julia who got up at some ungodly hour from the armchair she was dozing in to pick Fiona up and change her nappy and to sit and cuddle her in the armchair in the hope of giving Katie a little more time to sleep and heal. Joe was asleep on a couch in another room. The children were all tucked up in their own beds upstairs but Mac was in the other armchair close to the fire. He had also woken as the baby had stirred.

‘Need a hand?'

‘No, we're good. Go back to sleep, Mac.'

It was easy to pretend to be asleep. To tilt his head back so his eyes looked closed in the flickering glow of banked coals in the grate of the fire and the kerosene lamp nearby. It should have been easy to slip back into real sleep given his weariness but Mac soon found what he was watching utterly compelling.

It began with the gentle way Julia was handling the newborn as she changed its nappy and put tiny legs back into the stretchy suit. The soft sound of her voice as she made soothing murmurs. He must be doing a good job of seeming as soundly asleep as Fiona's ex
hausted mother, Mac decided, because he had the feeling they were both non-existent for Julia right now. Her focus was completely on the baby as she gathered it up in its blanket and sat on the edge of her armchair, rocking the infant in her arms.

The whimpering ceased. The rocking slowed and then Julia simply sat, gazing down at the baby in her arms. Seconds clicked into a minute and then another but Mac was transfixed. Was she waiting to make sure the baby was asleep so that she could put her back in the bassinette?

No.

The light might be soft and Mac could only see her profile but the intensity of the expression on Julia's face made something inside Mac tighten so painfully he couldn't breathe.

He watched her hand move, almost in silhouette against the backdrop of the glowing fire. He could see the way her thumb stroked the top of the baby's head. So slowly it seemed to go on for ever and Mac could feel every millimetre of that touch himself.

He could feel the…
longing
. The word came easily, really, because he could feel it himself. Could imagine Julia sitting just like that. Holding
their
child.

He wanted to close his eyes properly now because he felt like he was seeing something he wasn't meant to see.

Something very private.

The real Julia? A part he'd never been allowed close to?

A woman who wanted a baby—a family of her own—as much as he did?

Why did that impression feel like a knife in his chest?
So painful he had to move? To open his eyes and wake himself up enough to shift his thoughts as a means of self-protection.

And Julia looked up.

She knew he had been watching her. That he had seen something she had intended to keep hidden.

She didn't look angry. Or guilty. What Mac could see was a confirmation that he
had
seen what he thought he'd seen. A desperate yearning for a child of her own. He could see sadness as well. An apology?

For what?

The knife in his chest twisted a little. She had lied to him. She had told him she didn't want children. What she'd really been saying was that she didn't want
him
. But that was a lie, too. This relationship might have been intended as temporary and fun but it had never been a game. Nobody could have what they had found together without it being real.

Without love.

Mac didn't understand. One word was echoing in his head.

Why
?

He must have spoken it aloud because Julia's eyes widened. Her voice came out softly enough not to disturb the baby in her arms.

‘Why what?'

‘Why did you tell me you didn't want to have children? It's not true, is it?'

He saw her look down at the baby and could see the ripple in her neck as she swallowed. Hard. Then she lifted her gaze.

‘It has to be.'

‘Why? Because I'm not the man you want to be the father of your children?'

The way her lips moved in a half-smile that wobbled precariously made Mac sit up and lean forward, ready to launch himself close enough to protect and comfort her, but he didn't move yet. He might miss what she had to say and it was important.

Life and death kind of important.

‘No,' Julia whispered. ‘Exactly the opposite.'

Mac didn't understand. His brow creased as he stared at Julia.

‘If I had to search the world to find the perfect man to be the father of my children, it would be you, Mac. Don't ever think otherwise. But it's not going to happen. Ever.'

As if to punctuate her statement, Julia rose and carried the baby back to her bassinette.

Mac rubbed his forehead with his hand. ‘I don't understand,' he said quietly.

Julia straightened, her arms now empty. She wrapped them around her body. Her face looked pale. Distraught, almost.

‘Can't we just leave it?' she begged. ‘What we've had has been wonderful.
You're
wonderful. We've only got a short amount of time left and I've hated the way we've been today. Please, Mac…' She took the tiniest step towards him. ‘Couldn't we turn the clock back a few days and be like that and then I'll go home and we'll have something wonderful to remember for the rest of our lives?'

Mac stood up and moved to close the gap between
them but Julia didn't stop talking. If anything, her words became more desperate.

‘You'll find someone else. Someone who'll think exactly the same way and she'll have your babies and you'll be the perfect father and—'

‘No.'

The word was more than an interruption. It was intended to stop the flow of words he didn't want to hear. Mac drew Julia into his arms and was horrified to find she was trembling.

‘W-why not?'

‘Because I don't want to find someone else.'

‘You have to.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I can't give you what you need, Mac.'

‘I need you.'

‘You need a family.'

‘We can be a family.'

‘No, we can't.' Julia pulled away. Her voice was still low but there was a fierce edge to it that could have been anger. ‘This was never meant to get this far. We had a “use-by” date, Mac. I'm not in the market for anything else.'

‘But…' Mac still didn't understand. ‘You want children. You've all but admitted you feel the same way I do about having a family.'

‘I can't have children, Mac.' Julia had turned away from him now. ‘I had a hysterectomy when I was twenty-two because of endometrial cancer. There's no way on earth I'm ever going to have a baby of my own.'

Mac couldn't say anything for a moment. He was stunned. Shocked but then…what…relieved? This
wasn't about
him
. This was an obstacle that a lot of couples had to deal with. There were ways around it. If this was all that was standing between a future alone or one with Julia, it simply wasn't an issue.

He couldn't help his smile. He opened his mouth to tell her that if she thought it had to be the end of the road she was wrong, but she had turned back. She saw his smile. She probably read what he was thinking in his face.

‘Don't say it,' she warned. ‘Don't you dare tell me it doesn't matter. That it doesn't make a difference. I've been there and done that and I'm never going to believe anything you think you want to say right now so don't say it.'

‘Julia?' A faint voice came from the couch. ‘Is everything all right?'

‘Everything's fine, Katie.' The tone of Julia's voice changed markedly but the look Mac received was another clear warning. This discussion was over. ‘I'm glad you're awake,' she said, moving towards Katie. ‘I want to check your blood pressure and things. Noni will probably need a feed, soon, too.'

Mac sat back in his chair. He closed his eyes but he didn't sleep.

OK. This was the wrong place and time but this discussion was a long way from being over. He knew what he was up against now.

He knew he could win.

CHAPTER NINE

S
HE
couldn't talk about it.

Not yet.

Not when she could still feel that baby in her arms every time she closed her eyes. Could remember the incredible softness of the down on that tiny head, the baby smell, the fierce protectiveness that came with having sole responsibility—albeit briefly—for such a vulnerable little being.

Julia and Mac had been stood down for twenty-four hours after they had finally been able to evacuate Katie and her family the morning after Noni's birth. Mac had wanted to come home with Julia but she found herself brushing him off in precisely the same way he had brushed her off in the wake of what had turned out to be an unfortunate visit to his mother and the island of Iona.

‘I need to sleep,' she had said briskly. ‘And wash my hair and clean the house and call my sister. I'll see you tomorrow, Mac. At work.'

Hopefully, it would be as busy as it had been during the storm and preclude any private conversation. She
knew they had to talk about it because she owed Mac that much at least.

But not yet.

Not when it hurt this much and when her head and heart were at war with each other. When she was feeling tired and confused and more vulnerable than she'd ever felt in her life before.

There had been some powerful magic going on in that isolated farmhouse last night. A sprinkle of fairy dust that had tipped the balance and turned what could have been a tragedy into a joyous family extension. Some of that dust must have still been in the air when she'd picked up the baby to comfort her in the dead of night.

Magic that had stilled the emotional roller-coaster she'd been on ever since she'd woken that morning on Iona with the premonition of the coming crash. Maybe they'd brought it with them, a coating that was shaking itself free at unexpected moments.

That magic had been well stuck on the beach when they'd been waiting for the ferry. When she'd pushed Mac away as hard as she could to pre-empt the declaration she had known was imminent. Even less in evidence when Mac had chosen to stay away from her that night. Self-loathing had surfaced at that point. Loneliness that she'd brought on herself and deserved. A negative spiral of thoughts that if not wanting children hadn't been such a deal breaker, he would have wanted to talk about it. He would have come and held her in his arms and said the words that had never been spoken.

He would have told her that he loved her.

As a downward swoop of an emotional roller-coaster,
the frightening helicopter ride had been a perfect bottom of the dip. She could have died, never having heard those words. Never having told Mac how much
she
loved him.

But then she'd had the challenge of a potentially disastrous medical emergency and the adrenaline rush of success. The joy of hearing a newborn's first cry that had broken a barrier and pulled her into family life. Sharing a meal with young children, supervising bathtime and tucking them into bed.

A roller-coaster. Emotions going from one extreme to another.

And then the moment of utter serenity, holding a sleeping baby. An astonishing stillness that had given her a glimpse into a part of her soul she had been so determined to deny. A part a career—maybe even a marriage—could never hope to fulfil. A part that had the kind of unconditional, absolute love a parent could give a child.

No wonder Mac wanted a family in his future so badly.

Had the yearning been awakened in him long ago as a lonely child himself? Would it get worse for her? Intense enough to take too much joy from life?

It didn't have to. Julia stepped out of the long, hot shower and towelled herself dry. Maybe the real magic had been to realise that she could have taken the newborn Noni home and loved her as her own, no question. Adoption wasn't an issue. She could do that one day. Adopt children as a single mother, if necessary.

‘Are you
crazy
?'

The words were muttered aloud as she pulled on a favourite pair of soft leggings and stuffed her feet into fluffy slippers.

Mac had been about to tell her it didn't matter that she couldn't have babies. That they could adopt.

Her heart wanted to rejoice. Her head overruled it.

History repeating itself, it said. History that led to heartbreak. And this time it would be worse because she loved Mac
so
much. In a way she had never loved anyone and knew she never would again. She hadn't told him that and maybe that was just as well because she'd told him the truth about herself too late and now it felt as though everything they had together was built on something too insubstantial to last.

Too flimsy to trust.

It was only early afternoon. The early hours of the morning on the other side of the world but that was probably just as well, too. If she rang and talked to Anne she would probably start crying and her sister didn't need to know how bad she was feeling. Her sister might feel responsible, having suggested that an affair with Mac was a good idea. She was dealing with the disintegration of her own relationship in any case and, when you got right down to it, she couldn't really understand where Julia was coming from.

Anne didn't have any yearning for a child. Why would she when she had mothered Julia from when she was only a child herself? When her career had her working with children and sharing the heartache of parents who had to deal with the dark side of loving their little ones so much? How ironic was it that they were both in relationships where they couldn't give the man they loved what he wanted but for such different reasons?

Things needed to be done and Julia tried hard to
distract herself but the housework didn't take much time and the phone calls and email that were waiting for attention were dealt with just as quickly. Sitting around feeling sorry for herself was stupid so Julia pulled on a woolly hat, padded anorak and rubber boots and headed out into the remnants of yesterday's storm, hoping that a blast of damp arctic air might do something to clear her head. She walked for an hour or more, until her fingers and toes and nose were frozen and all she wanted was another hot shower and to tumble into bed and sleep.

Returning to her cottage the back way across farmland, she missed the big black vehicle parked out the front. It was a shock to find Mac standing on her front porch. He looked as exhausted as she felt. Physically and emotionally. His smile was so brief it almost didn't happen. He hadn't shaved. There was a dark shadow on his jaw line and even darker shadows in his eyes. He looked rugged and unhappy and…so heartstoppingly gorgeous Julia couldn't speak. She could hardly draw a breath.

‘We need to talk, Jules.'

Julia nodded. Raindrops trapped in her eyelashes were dislodged by the movement and fell onto her cheeks, like tears.

‘You'd better come in, then.'

‘You're soaked.'

‘I'll leave my outside stuff here.' She shrugged off the anorak and hung it up to drip on the flagged area of the porch.

‘Where have you been?'

‘I just went for a walk. I needed some fresh air.' Julia
was pulling off her boots but she glanced up to catch Mac's wry smile.

‘Nothing stops you, does it? I reckon you'd go for a walk in a hurricane if you felt the need for some fresh air.'

Julia's smile felt tight. Unnatural. She unlocked the cottage door and led Mac inside. Her temporary home felt as grey as the weather outside but Julia didn't move to turn on any lights or heating. Neither did Mac.

This felt horribly awkward.

Mac looked as uncomfortable as Julia felt.

‘Would you like a coffee or something?' she asked.

‘Sure.' Mac followed her to the kitchenette. A tiny space that had always been made ridiculously small when he was sharing it with her. For weeks now, it had been a secret delight, the way she couldn't move in here without bumping into him or brushing past so close he would be obliged to catch her for an extra kiss or a cuddle.

It was the last thing she could cope with now. Why on earth had she offered coffee? She could hardly ask him to go and wait in the chilly sitting room and the only other room in the cottage was the bedroom. Oh…this was awkward.

Mac finally broke the silence.

‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘I know you didn't want to see me today and you probably don't want to talk about this but something you said last night has been stuck in my head all day.'

Julia didn't say anything. She just waited, fiddling with the lid of the instant coffee jar, her fingers clumsy because they were only coming back to life slowly, a
burning pain in them as the nerves warmed up. It was nothing on the pain lying in wait for her heart, though.

‘That you'd been there and done that,' Mac continued. ‘That you wouldn't believe anything I had to say. I need to know why.'

‘Fair enough.' The jug had boiled but Julia ignored the waiting mugs. She turned to face Mac instead, backing up so she had the bench against her back in a futile bid for a sense of security.

‘Three years ago,' she told him, ‘I was engaged. To a man called Peter. We were very much in love and he knew my history. He knew I could never have children of my own and he convinced me that it didn't matter. That we could be childless or adopt or use a surrogate…that it wasn't an issue because he loved me and that was all that mattered. We planned our wedding, we dreamed about our future. We even bought a house.'

It was Mac's turn to be silent now. To wait. He stood there as still as a statue. Listening. Only his eyes moved. Scanning her face. Absorbing her words and analysing their significance.

‘I believed him,' Julia continued. ‘And why wouldn't I? He loved me and I loved him. I chose the wedding dress of my dreams. Everything was organised. All the grief I'd been through when I had to have the hysterectomy and knew I'd never have children was erased. I'd never been so happy.'

A muscle twitched in Mac's jaw as though he was gritting his teeth. ‘And then?'

‘Two weeks before the wedding date, Peter told me he was very sorry but he'd made a dreadful mistake.'

‘What? In wanting to marry you?'

‘In telling me that the fact I couldn't have children wasn't an issue. He'd discovered that having a baby with someone was actually quite a big deal. Becoming a father in a normal way. Making a family.'

‘And it took until you were practically at the altar for him to come to this conclusion?' Mac sounded incredulous.

Julia looked away. ‘I think the timing was more to do with the fact that someone else informed him he was going to
be
a father. A
real
father.'

Mac's snort was derisive. ‘The scumbag was sleeping with someone else?'

‘Obviously.'

‘And he got her pregnant?'

Julia couldn't help smiling. ‘And you got your degree with honours?'

Mac shook his head. Either he didn't remember his dig at Julia when she had been asking him about his siblings that day or he simply wasn't amused. ‘I'm smarter than you are.'

Julia blinked. She had expected at least some sympathy for having been so badly treated. ‘What's that supposed to mean?'

Mac turned away from her as though he had no intention of answering the question but then he swung back to face her. ‘You think you got dumped because you can't have children, yes?'

Julia's jaw dropped at the same time as her hackles rose. Surely Mac didn't think this was an appropriate time to come riding in on a white charger and sweep the
issue into oblivion? Tell her that Peter was an idiot because it really didn't matter? The arrogance of the man!

‘Actually,' she informed him, ‘that was precisely why I got “dumped”, as you so sensitively put it. Peter spelt it out. With a scarily similar lack of sensitivity.'

Mac shook his head again. ‘Sorry, Jules. Seems to me you missed the point entirely.'

Julia's tone was pure ice. ‘And the point is?'

‘The fact that he was sleeping with someone else in the first place. You don't do that if you love someone enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them.'

You might if you think the person you're going to marry isn't a ‘real' woman. One that's capable of having a baby.

Not that Julia was going to say this aloud only to have it dismissed. She'd been nearly destroyed by the pain of what Peter had done. How could Mac belittle what she'd been through? Make her feel like she'd been stupid and had ‘missed the point' or overreacted or something?

He didn't understand.

And why was he any different anyway? He'd never said
he
loved her.

He's shown you
, her heart whispered.
Every time he's touched you and kissed you and smiled at you in that special way that makes you melt inside.

That's just what you want to believe
, her head countered. ‘
Just like you wanted to believe everything Peter said.

Julia was torn. More than anything, she wanted to trust Mac but to do so was terrifying because she would be laying herself open to a pain she couldn't voluntarily submit to.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't trust Mac. Something too powerful was holding her back.

Maybe she was wrong and she was being stupid and totally missing the point but it came down to the courage needed to trust and if she didn't have it, this was over. That was the crux of everything happening here, wasn't it? If you loved someone enough to overcome obstacles, you trusted them. It was a given.

Mac was staring at her.

Watching the way her head was overruling her heart.

Reading her mind.

‘You don't trust me, do you?' He rubbed his forehead as though aware of the furrows of disbelief that had appeared.

‘You don't trust me,' he repeated, his tone hollow now.

 

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