Their Baby Bargain. Marion Lennox
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be caring for two little girls…
This could be perfect. This way, if—when—Gabbie’s mother demanded time with her daughter there wouldn’t be such a hole in her life. She’d remain busy doing what she loved best, and there’d still be a home waiting for Gabbie when she returned.
But the house hadn’t been lived in for how many years? And the unknown factor—this new little baby’s mother—could return at any minute, and reclaim her baby. She’d only dumped her this morning. There was all the reason in the world to suppose she’d change her mind, and where would that leave Wendy and Gabbie?
No! There were dangers everywhere she looked, and if she didn’t catch this train—when did it leave?—oh, good grief, in less than an hour!—she’d be too late to get the keys to her new apartment. She’d lose it and she’d be stuck with nowhere to live in Sydney.
On the other hand, if she agreed and took two small children out to a derelict farm, and Luke headed back to New York…
She’d be stuck, she thought wildly. She could be in the biggest mess, and it wasn’t just her. It would be Gabbie and Grace as well. She had no legal right to take on the responsibility for this baby. She wondered whether Luke did. Probably not. So it had to be said.
‘No,’ she said firmly, and bit her lip as she heard herself say it. It was such a glorious idea. To say no was dreadful—but she had to be sensible.
‘Wendy!’ Erin wailed.
‘May I ask why not?’ Luke was in businessman mode here—moving in organisational capacity. This was what he was good at. ‘It’s a very good offer.’
‘It may be an exceptional offer,’ she told him. ‘But if the farm’s a wreck then it’s not. Or if I’m accused of taking Grace when I have no legal right to care for her. I’ll bet you haven’t even thought of the legal ramifications of guardianship. Have you?’
His eyes went blank. Clearly he hadn’t. ‘No.’
‘Then, I thank you for your very kind offer,’ she said firmly. ‘But I can’t accept. Unless…’
‘Unless?’
‘Unless you postpone your trip to New York. Unless you spend enough time with us at the farm to ensure it’s liveable, and you don’t leave for New York until everything’s legally settled and I’m happy that the children have a secure and reasonable place to live.’
He didn’t like it.
For the next ten minutes Luke produced every argument he could think of to have her change her mind. At the end of the ten minutes she simply took Gabbie’s hand and led her from the room.
‘We have a train to catch,’ she reminded him simply. ‘I’m pushed for time. Goodbye, Luke.’
Goodbye…
Balked, he glared after her but it made no difference. The kitchen door swung closed behind her and he glared at Erin instead.
‘She’s right,’ Erin said helpfully. Sadly but helpfully. ‘Wendy needs the legal rights to care for your baby, and she doesn’t have them. And if no one’s lived in that place for twenty years it’ll be a mess. You know it. Kids need safe places to live.’
‘I need to be in New York.’
‘Then, you have different priorities,’ she told him. ‘When do you plan on leaving?’
‘Now. Tonight. Midnight if I can get back to Sydney on time.’
‘And what do you plan on doing with Grace?’
‘She’s not my responsibility,’ he said helplessly, staring down at the sleeping baby in his arms.
‘In that case leave her with our children’s services and they’ll find placement for her in Sydney.’ Erin tilted her chin. She was taking a big risk and she knew it. She held her breath.
He glared at her some more.
And then he looked down at the child in his arms and his glare sort of died.
‘I…’
‘You don’t want to do that, do you?’ Erin asked gently.
‘No.’
‘What’s so important in New York?’
‘Meetings. I’m a broker.’
‘I’ll bet you have the internet and e-mail and all sorts of other technological gadgetry to overcome this crisis,’ she said brightly. ‘Teleconferencing, maybe? I hear it’s all the go. We even use it here to link up with our Sydney offices.’
He glowered. ‘I’ll bet there’s not even a phone at the farm.’
‘Which is one reason Wendy is right in saying she can’t agree to live there yet. You don’t have a mobile phone?’
‘Of course I have a mobile, but…’
‘There you go, then.’ She smiled again, all objectives achieved. ‘I’d stop her packing, if I were you,’ she said kindly. ‘Once she gets on that train you’ll have lost the greatest nanny a man could ever hire. Wendy’s simply the best.’
And Luke, staring down at her bright smile, knew that it was true. He knew instinctively that in Wendy he had someone he wouldn’t mind entrusting a baby he cared for.
Cared for?
He didn’t care for Grace.
But… He stared down at the sleeping baby, and his tiny half-sister stirred in his arms and snuggled closer.
‘Hell!’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Erin said sympathetically. ‘Or it will be if you don’t stop Wendy from boarding that train. New York or Wendy, Mr Grey. You choose—but choose now.’
‘Hell!’ he said again.
‘Swearing won’t help,’ she said sweetly. ‘Choosing will.’
An hour later, Wendy was in the front passenger seat of an Aston Martin sports car, being driven south.
Against her better judgement.
She should be on a train to Sydney right now, she told herself. That was the place for sedate foster parents. If she was on a train, the wind wouldn’t be blowing in her hair, she’d have all her suitcases in the luggage racks above her head, and she’d have Gabbie safely on her knee.
Now the wind was very definitely blowing in her hair and her unruly knot was almost completely unwound. Her luggage was back at Bay Beach—there was no chance it’d fit into Luke’s miniscule baggage compartment and he’d organised a taxi to bring it out later. Grace was in her carry-cot, and Gabbie was sitting in the car’s rear seat with her mouth as wide open as her eyes. She looked in a state of shock.
Which just about summed up how Wendy was feeling.
‘I’ve been bamboozled,’ she said faintly. ‘I don’t have a clue what I’m doing here.’
‘That makes two of us,’ Luke said, not without sympathy. ‘I should be heading for the airport right now.’ He shifted his hands on his steering wheel and grimaced. ‘There’s something sticky on this.’ Then he stared down with horror as he saw two grey marks on his leather steering wheel. ‘Someone’s touched this with sticky hands!’
Good grief, Wendy thought blankly. After all that was happening, the man was worrying about a sticky steering wheel!
‘It’ll wash off,’ she said shortly.
‘You’re sure?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s only red jelly. The kids had red jelly for lunch. It dissolves in warm water.’
‘There’s red jelly on my steering wheel,’ he groaned. And then he looked closer.