‘Yes, but-’
‘I love you, Ginny,’ he said. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes.’
‘You see, that’s what I don’t want,’ she whispered. ‘Because I don’t think that I’m even ready for that. Yesterday I thought that maybe I could rejoin the human race. I could let myself get attached to Madison and the dogs and this community. But taking you on…’
‘What do you mean, taking me on?’ he asked, startled, and she managed a wavering smile.
‘You come with your own ghosts,’ she said. ‘If I didn’t have a mass of my own to deal with then maybe I could help you with yours.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’
‘No. But…Fergus, I’m not denying this love thing…this feeling we have for each other. The way you make me feel. But it scares me. Everything scares me. Come back to me in a year or so when I’ve learned what loving is again. When you’ve figured out what it means not being Molly’s dad any more.’
‘Ginny, I want you.’
‘I know. But we need to be sensible.’
‘I don’t feel like being sensible.’ He touched her cheek with the back of his hand and she moved into the touch like a magnet finding its north. He hesitated but he’d gone too far to stop. ‘Ginny, I’d like to marry you.’
It was a dumb proposal, he thought. He knew it the moment the words were out of his mouth and he saw her flinch.
‘Marrying me means taking on Madison as your daughter,’ she whispered. ‘Fergus, are you sure you can do that?’
‘Maybe…’
‘You see, there’s no maybe about it,’ she said, and suddenly she sounded angry. She rose, backing away from his touch as he rose with her. ‘This is a crazy conversation. You know it’s much too soon. We hardly know each other. We need to go home. Can you help?’
‘Of course I can help.’ But could he? This is what this is all about, he thought. Ginny had a brother and a child and three dogs. She couldn’t handle them on her own. Marriage to Ginny meant marriage to everything.
‘There’s a child booster seat in the back of my car,’ Ginny said, moving on, marriage proposal set aside. She hesitated. ‘Richard was uncomfortable in my little car on the way here. Can we put him in your truck?’
‘Fine.’ But it wasn’t fine. He wanted to spend more time here. He wanted to gather Ginny into his arms again and kiss her senseless and make her see… Reason?
‘Dogs first,’ she said. ‘Dr Reynard, I need your help.’
Maybe she’d seen where his thoughts were headed. Regardless, she’d called him Dr Reynard for a reason. He needed to be practical. Richard needed care. They both needed to move into professional mode.
They left Madison till last. The dogs were easy to load into the truck, as was the detritus from their picnic. Richard was harder. He woke up when Fergus touched his shoulder.
‘Time to go,’ he said softly, and Richard’s face clouded.
‘It’s never time to go,’ he muttered, and turned to look at the moon streaming over the lake. Fergus saw tears slipping down his gaunt face.
‘Hey, Richard,’ Ginny said, and slipped her hand into his. There was a moment’s pause. Fergus stepped back and left them together, letting the moment stretch out.
How to say goodbye to life?
But finally Richard gave a tiny, decisive nod and Fergus saw his grip tighten on Ginny’s hand.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Easier said than done. He had no strength left to stand. They slipped their arms under a shoulder apiece and somehow manoeuvred him into the front passenger seat of Fergus’s vehicle. He should be on a stretcher, Fergus thought, but he also knew it had been important that this night hadn’t involved stretchers.
It did involve oxygen, though, and it was a fiddle getting everything in the front of the truck.
‘Richard, you’re going to have to diet before we come back,’ Ginny told him, and that got a weary grin. But then he winced. He wouldn’t be in physical pain, Fergus knew. He’d been so careful at monitoring medication that he knew there could be little breakthrough. But there was more pain than merely physical.
‘Ginny,’ he whispered, and Ginny held his hand tight.
‘Can you put Madison in my car while I stay with Richard?’ she asked, and Fergus hesitated. Richard needed Ginny.
‘You drive Richard home in my truck,’ he said. ‘I’ll follow with Madison.’
‘If you’re sure,’ Ginny said. She looked down into her brother’s face. ‘Maybe we could drive right round the lake. Miriam will be at home to help you put Madison to bed. And she trusts you, even if she wakes up.’
She did, Fergus thought. She had no choice. She’d been thrust into a family she didn’t know and she had to take what was thrust at her.
Including him.
‘That’s fine,’ he said, and something must have shown in his face because Ginny hesitated.
‘I don’t like-’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, making his voice definite and motioning with his eyes for Ginny to say nothing more in Richard’s hearing. Richard needed this time so badly. There was so little time left.
‘Thanks, mate,’ Richard whispered, and Fergus wondered how much he guessed.
Hell.
So they left and all Fergus had to do was lift the sleeping Madison into his arms, carry her over to the car and lower her gently into the child seat…
But as he did so, she stirred. She hardly woke up, but she roused enough to know that she was being carried and she knew enough to make herself more secure.
She sighed, a weary sigh of a child who’d been through too much and had found no joy at the other side.
She lifted her arms, she twined them around his neck and she huddled tight.
As if she was finding her security. Any security.
He cradled her against him as he carried her to the car and she felt…she felt…
Don’t think it.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘I’m taking you home to bed. Home with Ginny and your daddy.’
‘Daddy,’ she whispered, and the word cut through him like a knife.
Molly…
Somehow he managed the short drive, but the knowledge that there was a child right behind him, as there’d been a child right behind him for the last six years except for three empty months made him feel…empty. Blank. Like he didn’t know how to go on.
He concentrated on the road ahead. Kangaroos jumped out of nowhere around here. He needed to concentrate.
‘I want my mummy,’ the little voice whispered from the back seat, and his heart clenched.
‘Ginny will be home.’
‘I want my mummy.’
No substitutes. He knew how she felt. God, he knew how she felt. That she wasn’t Molly…
He pulled into the farmyard and Miriam was on the back veranda, waiting for him.
‘Richard and Ginny are coming home the long way in my truck,’ he explained. ‘They’ll be here soon.’
‘Let’s get the bairn to bed,’ Miriam said, accepting things fast for what they were. ‘I’ll pull the sheets back. If you’ll just carry her in…’
‘Will you-?’ he began, but she’d already turned away.
He opened the car door and unclipped the child harness.
‘Bedtime,’ he whispered, and once again her arms wound round his neck and she clung.
He carried her up the stairs in silence. The whole night was silent. The dogs were in the back of his truck, being ferried around the lake. Miriam was out of sight, doing what had to be done.
Madison clung and sighed, and his heart twisted until he was sure it must break all over again. As it had broken the night he’d said goodbye to Molly.
