New Arrivals: Surprise Baby for Him: The Cattleman's Adopted Family / The Soldier's Homecoming / Marriage for Baby. Melissa McClone
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her cute little daughter, so happy together, and the image gnawed at a private pain he’d tried very hard to keep buried.
With an angry groan he strode to the far end of the veranda, and stared out into the black, rain-lashed night, willing his reckless thoughts to the four winds.
He’d invited this woman and her child into his home, and already today, during a simple walk down a bush track, he’d let down his guard. But he knew that he mustn’t allow a single mother’s warm brown eyes and her daughter’s appealing ways to slip under his defences.
It seemed there was no other man in the picture for Amy and Bella, but so what? Seth had given up all thoughts of domestic happiness, and he’d done so with the fierce determination of a smoker, or a gambler giving up an addiction.
Women, he’d learned after too many mistakes, were a health hazard. Families looked cosy and attractive when viewed from the outside, but he knew from bitter firsthand experience that the inside story could be something else entirely.
Closing his eyes, Seth saw his own mother—slim, elegant and beautiful, her sleek, dark hair framing her face like a satin cap. He remembered her tinkling laugh and the way she’d smelled of delicate flowers. Remembered her infrequent hugs.
He remembered, too, the many evenings he’d stood, nose pressed against the glass, watching her from his bedroom window as she stepped into a limousine. She’d always looked remote, like a goddess, in a glamorous red evening gown, in sequins, or gold lamé—a glittering evening bag in one hand, cigarette in the other.
Mostly, he remembered the day she’d left him for good.
The departure of females had become a pattern in Seth’s life.
He was done with relationships.
This evening, he had to remember to be very careful when he talked to Amy Ross. There were important things about Rachel Tyler that he needed to know—an awkward mystery that he needed to clarify—but he couldn’t allow himself to be sidetracked by any further discussion of Amy’s life as a single mother. If she’d been abandoned by a gold-plated jerk and left to struggle with a baby on her own, Seth didn’t want to know about it.
He didn’t want to feel pity for her and her daughter. And he didn’t want to feel concern. Or longing.
He simply needed to get to the truth.
When Amy heard the soft tap on her door she felt a hot rush of adrenaline. Anxiously, she snatched a glance at her reflection and hoped she’d achieved a small improvement by changing into a fresh T-shirt and jeans.
Her hand was pleasingly steady as she reached for the door knob, but as soon as she saw Seth, tall and dark and filling her doorway, her steadiness deserted her.
She stepped outside quickly, and through the open doorway he sent a silent glance to the bed where Bella slept.
‘Yes, she’s out to it,’ Amy said quietly and she let out a huff of breath, hoping it would settle her nerves.
‘Would you like coffee?’ he asked. ‘Or something stronger?’
‘Not especially,’ she said, wanting a clear head, although she suspected she would benefit from a stiff drink right now.
He gave a curt nod towards the back veranda. ‘Perhaps we should go out there, if it’s not too wet. We shouldn’t disturb Bella, but you’ll still be able to hear her if she cries.’
‘All right.’
Leaving a single bed lamp on, she closed the door softly and followed him, and she felt nervous, as if she were going to a job interview she hadn’t prepared for.
On the veranda, a wall light cast a soft glow over a trio of potted plants and two deeply cushioned cane chairs beside a wicker table.
Amy took a seat and she peered out at the curtain of rain, which was falling more softly now. She wondered what Seth wanted to ‘chat’ about. Avoiding that thought, she asked, ‘How long will this rain last?’
‘Hard to say.’ He shrugged. ‘In some wet seasons it rains non-stop for weeks.’
‘That sounds depressing.’
‘It can be. Most of us try to get away for at least part of the wet.’
‘I’ve read about roads being cut off by floods.’
‘That’s why I have a plane,’ Seth said in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.
A plane? Before Amy could register her astonishment, he said, ‘So you’ve never been in the tropics before?’
‘No, never.’
‘You’re not seeing it at its best. You should have come in winter.’
‘But that would have been too late to help Rachel’s book launch.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Seth looked out to the black and silent night, with only his profile showing to Amy. ‘I was hoping we could talk about Rachel’s book.’
Goosebumps broke out on Amy’s arms. At least Seth hadn’t guessed about Bella, but she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or alarmed. What else could she tell him about the book?
If he realised that she’d come all this way, and imposed on his hospitality, on the pretext of promoting a book she knew next to nothing about, he would be justified in thinking she was crazy, and bad mannered.
She studied the dark lines of his brow and his nose and the angular jut of his jaw, but they gave her no clue to his thoughts.
He spoke without looking at her. ‘You said you were Rachel Tyler’s best friend.’
‘Yes, I did, because it’s true.’
‘You’ve known her since you were fifteen.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve gossiped together.’
‘I wouldn’t call it gossip.’ Amy sounded more prudish than she’d meant to. ‘But sure, we talked a lot.’
‘And yet she never talked to you about her book?’
‘Not in any kind of detail.’ Amy watched a moth dance into the pool of light. ‘I—I think Rachel was superstitious. The book was terribly important to her, and I think she might have been afraid that it wouldn’t be a success if she talked too much about it.’
‘Did she tell you about her time at Serenity?’
‘Very little,’ Amy admitted with a sigh. Rachel had been totally absorbed by the aftermath of her trip north—her pregnancy and the birth of her baby.
‘But she told you about me,’ Seth said coldly. ‘You knew how to find me.’
‘Yes.’
Feeling hopelessly cornered, Amy closed her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to tell Seth the whole story tonight. She’d wanted to wait till she’d been refreshed by a good night’s sleep. She’d wanted to feel calm and composed, able to take her time and to choose her words carefully.
More importantly, she’d wanted to retain the upper hand in this, but Seth was pushing her, giving her no choice. She had to speak now. If he dragged the truth out of her, she would lose every ounce of credibility in his eyes.
And that mattered perhaps more than it should.
As she sat there, eyes closed, gathering courage, she heard the flutter of the moth’s wings against the light globe and the sound of Seth’s chair scraping on the wooden veranda boards. Her eyes flew open.
Seth was standing directly in front of her, towering over her. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, Amy.’
His voice was hard and as cutting as a sabre. He was trying to intimidate her, which was one thing Amy wouldn’t tolerate. She’d learned in her own backyard to stand up to her brothers.
Bravely,