Kitabı oku: «Captivated By The Single Dad», sayfa 2
‘I’m sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you couldn’t help it, and you did the right thing when you asked me not to tell them about the accident. They’d just lost their mom. They would have been devastated if they’d heard their dad was hurt, too.’
‘I wouldn’t have been much use to them on crutches.’
‘Imagine your journey home,’ Holly agreed, smiling. ‘Twenty-something hours on a plane and trying to manage six-year-old twins while you’re hobbling on a cast.’
‘Exactly.’ Gray sat forward, eager to voice the question that had been plaguing him. ‘So—how do you think Anna and Josh will cope with going back to Australia with me?’
He hoped she would answer with an easygoing shrug and a quick reassurance.
They’ll be fine. They’re over the worst now.
To his dismay, she dropped her gaze to her coffee cup and twisted it in her hands.
His throat tightened uncomfortably. ‘I thought my place—somewhere completely different—might help them. Might be a…a distraction.’
Holly looked up again and, when her dark eyes met his, she was frowning. He saw no hint of reassurance.
He spoke again quickly, needing to strengthen his case. ‘This apartment must hold so many sad memories for the children. Won’t it help them to get away?’
Her mouth opened again as if she was going to reply, but then she hesitated.
Gray’s entire body tensed. ‘You agree, don’t you?’ He forced an awkward shrug. ‘I admit you know my children better than I do. I’d value your opinion.’
She responded with a faint smile. ‘I certainly hope they’ll be fine, but I can’t promise it’s going to be easy, Gray. I’m no expert, but from everything I’ve read—’
‘Everything you’ve read?’ He felt himself tense. As a cattleman who’d always relied on purely practical skills, he was sceptical about the glorified merits of the written word.
Perhaps Holly sensed his doubt. Her cheeks flushed deep pink but, when she spoke, she lifted her chin and her dark eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve never had any first-hand experience of grief, certainly not with helping children who’ve lost a parent. So I consulted a GP who referred me to a psychologist, and I’ve done some reading, too. After all, the books are written by experts.’
The skin on the back of Gray’s neck grew hot. Not quite meeting her gaze, he said, ‘So what did the experts have to say?’
Holly set her coffee mug on the table with exquisite care, as if it were a rare antique. ‘It seems that children who’ve suffered a loss can benefit from a predictable routine and structure. The familiarity of a routine helps them to feel secure.’
A predictable routine.
Structure.
Security.
Gray’s heart sank. Predictability and security were scarce commodities in the Outback. Cattlemen and their families lived at the mercy of the elements, or at the whim of fluctuating markets. Daily, they dealt with the problems caused by isolation and vast distances.
He recalled all the things his ex-wife had hated about his lifestyle, and he thought about his experience over the past three months—being cut off by the floods, almost running out of supplies, busting his leg in a flooded river.
Doubts crowded in. What was he doing here? How could he take his kids away from this safe and secure world that they knew and loved?
Abruptly, he stood and strode to the window where he dipped a slat in the blinds with one finger and stared down at the crowded pavements and busy traffic below.
Without looking at Holly, he said grimly, ‘If the experts in your books are right, the last thing my children need is another big change.’
Unhappily, he folded his arms over his chest and his jaw jutted belligerently. ‘I’m planning to drag Anna and Josh halfway across the world to a place that’s completely different from here, and your book-writing experts are telling me it’s the worst thing I can do.’
CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment, Holly was seriously tempted to tell Gray that yes, his children would be much better off if they stayed right here in Manhattan. Of course they’d be happier if they were allowed to continue in this familiar environment—living in this apartment, going to their highly acclaimed school, playing with their select circle of appropriate friends.
For three months she’d been trying to follow the psychologists’ advice. She’d built little rituals into the children’s days so they always had something to look forward to.
She’d carefully planned mealtimes around their favourite nutritious foods, and she’d scheduled regular after school treats. Of course, she’d made sure that bedtime was special with their favourite stories. And plenty of hugs.
But she couldn’t suggest that Gray would not be able to meet his children’s needs. She’d witnessed his deep emotion when he’d first greeted his children, and she could see the incredible tension in his face right now as he waited for her answer.
Gray wasn’t just a proud, possessive male reclaiming his rights. He was a man who loved his children very deeply. Chelsea’s parents had told her that over the past three years he’d made the arduous journey from Australia to America several times a year, just to see them.
Holly knew that her possibly selfish opinions about the benefits of staying in America had no place in this conversation.
She drew a deep breath. ‘Anna and Josh want to be with you, Gray. You’re their father.’ After a beat, she added gently, ‘They’ve missed you very much.’
His face softened a fraction. ‘But it’s still going to be hard for them to leave here and to make the change, isn’t it?’
She couldn’t deny this. ‘You should probably be prepared for one or two tricky moments.’
‘I was hoping that if I stayed in New York for a few days, and gave them a chance to get used to me again—’
‘I’m sure that will help. And, while you’re here, we can both talk to them about what to expect on the journey and when they arrive in Australia.’
Gray nodded, and let his thoughtful gaze fix on the row of windows on the opposite wall, as if he was seeing far into the distance. Then he sent Holly a slow smile.
Despite the fact that Holly was thinking about Gray’s children and not his looks, something very odd happened to her insides. She dropped her gaze from the sudden flare in his light blue eyes and found safety in the tan leather duffel bag, dumped on the floor by the sofa.
It was the sort of bag that would look at home on a dusty homestead veranda, or in the back of a battered pickup. Here, in this city apartment, however, the scuffed leather holdall looked out of place, almost like a symbol of everything that had been wrong about Gray’s marriage to her cousin.
Chelsea had rarely talked about the problems that had sent her scurrying home from Jabiru Creek to New York. It was clear to everyone that her decision had been painful—that she hadn’t stopped loving Gray, but that she’d loved her ballet and choreography more. There’d been no jobs for a choreographer of Chelsea’s calibre in Outback Australia and, in the end, she’d found it too difficult to relinquish her city life and her career.
She’d told Holly once, ‘It was a fatal attraction. Gray and I were wrong for each other and in almost every way. I think we both sensed from the start that our marriage was doomed, but our feelings were so intense we still had to give it a try.’
Now, sitting mere metres from Gray Kidman’s intensely masculine presence, Holly was all too aware of the force that had urged Chelsea to take that risk. He was still disturbingly attractive. Looking at him, the word manly seemed to take on new meaning.
Abruptly, she jumped to her feet. ‘If you’ve finished your coffee, I’ll show you to your room and you can stow your things away.’
She charged across the room, feeling a need to put a sudden distance between them.
‘Holly, before you go—’
Slowly…she turned.
Gray offered a dangerously shy smile. ‘I know I’m probably old-fashioned and you’re a contemporary New Yorker, but I just wanted to make sure you’re completely okay with having me stay here in your apartment.’
‘Of course. It’s perfectly fine.’ Holly tried to sound offhand. ‘It makes sense.’
‘And your boyfriend? Is he cool with it, too?’
A horrible knife-in-the-heart pain pierced Holly, the pain she always felt whenever Brandon was mentioned. After two months, the shock was still very raw—especially the painful discovery that Brandon had been seeing Maria Swain for six whole months before he’d found the courage to tell her.
Somehow she forced a breezy smile. ‘That’s not a problem. I’m between boyfriends right now.’
Not wanting to see Gray’s reaction, she hurried on to the spare room. ‘It’s important for you to stay here, Gray.’ She tossed the words over her shoulder. ‘You need to maximise your time with the children before you set off.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’
At the doorway, she stepped aside to let him into the room. ‘It’s nothing special, but I guess it’s adequate.’
‘It’s terrific.’ Gray dropped his bag onto the rug at the foot of the single bed. Holly was about to leave when he said, ‘What about you, Holly?’
‘Me? Oh…my room’s…um…just down the hall.’
Gray looked a tad embarrassed and scratched at the side of his jaw. ‘I wasn’t asking where you sleep. I meant—what are your plans now—once the children are off your hands.’
‘My plans? Oh…’ Holly gulped. Talking to this attractive man about bedrooms must have scrambled her powers of thinking. ‘I’ve just finished my final exams, so I’ve started sending out job applications. Who knows where I’ll end up?’
With luck, anywhere except Vermont.
Taking three quick steps backwards, she added, ‘Right now, I need to fix lunch.’
‘Anything I can help with?’
‘No, thanks. It’s only chicken salad. You go and see the children. Join in their game.’
Gray suggested a trip to Central Park after lunch. He always felt more at ease entertaining his children in wide open spaces with grass and trees and blue sky overhead, instead of pavement and department stores and hurrying crowds.
This time, Holly came with them.
Initially Gray hadn’t invited her. He’d assumed she’d be keen to grab a few hours of freedom to paint her toenails, or go shopping, or whatever city girls liked to do when they had time to themselves.
Just as the children and he were about to leave the apartment, however, Holly had handed him a pamphlet.
‘This shows you everything that’s going on in Central Park,’ she’d said.
Gray had dismissed this with a quick, ‘We’ll be fine.’
Even though he was only familiar with a tiny section of Central Park, he could find the zoo, and the carousel. Anna and Josh had never complained. ‘We’ll play it by ear, won’t we, kids?’
Holly looked surprised and she tapped a brightly coloured centre page. ‘But this pamphlet lists all the children’s activities. And there’s a puppet theatre.’
‘Puppets!’ Anna and Josh both squealed in chorus. ‘We want to see the puppets. Please, Daddy, please!’
Holly was still pointing to the printed page and Gray felt the first squeeze of panic. The words on the pamphlet danced and jumbled before his eyes and his chest tightened as frustration and inadequacy—two foes he’d been fighting all his life—surfaced.
‘Why don’t you come along with us?’ he asked her then. ‘And bring your pamphlet.’
Her cheeks turned pink—a very pretty pink, a perfect foil for her dark eyes and her shiny dark hair. The blush surprised Gray. Perhaps she was shyer than he’d realised.
‘Yes, Holly, come with us,’ Anna was pleading and grabbing her hand. ‘Please, come. Please!’
Holly shook her head. ‘But this is your special time to be with your daddy.’
However, she didn’t need much convincing.
‘Would you like me to try for last minute tickets for the puppets?’ she said next and already she was pulling her cellphone from her pocket.
They were in luck. There were four tickets available for the last performance that afternoon and when they set off for Central Park Gray noticed that Holly’s shyness was quickly evaporating.
It was soon clear that she genuinely liked to spend time outdoors with his children. She laughed a lot and her eyes shone, and she looked somehow just right in slim blue jeans and a simple grey T-shirt, with her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and her face free of make-up.
He thought, uneasily, that his children were really going to miss Holly when it was time to leave. He couldn’t help noticing how totally relaxed they were with her. Affectionate, too. Josh was perfectly happy to hold her hand when they crossed the busy streets, and Anna, all excited after a super-fast slippery slide, exchanged ecstatic high fives with Holly. The gesture was so automatic and natural Gray knew they’d done this many times.
And Holly’s pamphlet proved to be a great asset. It showed where the really cool playgrounds were, like the Ancient Playground based on the Egyptian Temple of Dendor, with model pyramids for climbing. And after the children had climbed and run and explored the zoo and thrown Frisbees and eaten ice creams, they all headed off to the puppet theatre in an old Swedish cottage.
The show turned out to be lively and hilarious, full of drama and excitement and silly pranks that were impossible not to enjoy.
All the children in the audience were encouraged to call out advice and warnings, so they practically lifted the roof off the ancient cottage. So very different from the serious, respectful hush of the audiences at the ballets Chelsea had dragged him to.
At one point, Gray glanced over Anna and Josh’s heads and caught Holly watching him. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and he realised he’d been laughing out loud.
Strewth. When was the last time that had happened?
They emerged from the theatre in the late afternoon, and together they strolled through the park in the softening light of the late spring evening. The children skipped ahead, wide smiles on their faces as they imitated the Big Bad Wolf, playing hide-and-seek behind tree trunks.
His kids were okay. They were happy. And Gray discovered that he was completely and totally relaxed. He hadn’t realised how tense he’d been, but now, for the first time since he’d received the shocking news about Chelsea, he was conscious of having truly unwound.
‘You shouldn’t have to cook again tonight,’ he told Holly. ‘Why don’t we eat out? My shout.’
She laughed. ‘I was going to suggest grabbing a meal on the way home. We have a tradition of eating out at our favourite diner on Saturday nights.’
A tradition? Gray wondered uneasily if Anna and Josh would miss these traditions. Would they be willing to help him create new traditions? He couldn’t take them to a diner near his Outback home. The nearest café was a hundred kilometres from Jabiru Creek. Could a campfire on a riverbank be a reasonable substitute?
As they pushed through the swing doors of the diner on 81st Street they were greeted by laughter and happy chatter and the appetizing smells of frying bacon and coffee. The waiters recognised Holly and the children and welcomed them warmly.
Gray was introduced.
‘My dad from Australia,’ Josh said proudly.
They slipped into a booth with Gray and Anna on one side, Holly and Josh on the other. The waiter handed out menus.
Gray barely looked at his. ‘I’ll have a hamburger.’
Holly shot him a surprised glance. ‘What kind of hamburger? There are at least six varieties.’
He shrugged, cracked a careless smile. ‘I’ve worked up an appetite. Whatever’s the biggest.’
‘That would be the Mighty Mo,’ the waiter told him with a grin.
‘Thanks. Sounds perfect.’ Gray turned to his daughter. ‘What about you, princess? What would you like?’
He watched Anna study the menu, following down the lists with her finger.
‘A grilled American cheese sandwich,’ she decided.
‘And I wanna hot dog,’ said Josh.
‘I’d like a hot dog, please, Daddy,’ Holly reminded him.
‘I’d like a hot dog, please, Dad.’ His son sent him a cheeky grin.
‘You’re both excellent readers,’ Gray said.
His children smiled politely, as if they were thinking— Of course. It’s only a simple old menu.
He asked quickly, ‘What are you having, Holly? Let me guess. A Greek salad?’ This had always been Chelsea’s choice and, judging by Holly’s slim build, Gray assumed she was equally diet-conscious.
‘Actually,’ she replied with a raised-eyebrow smile, ‘I rather fancy nachos with cheese, guacamole and sour cream.’
It was hours later, close to midnight, when Holly woke to the sound of high-pitched screaming. Her heart pounded as she leapt out of bed. Anna was having another nightmare.
She hurried through the apartment, not bothering to turn on a light. She was so familiar with the route from her bedroom to the children’s room that she could easily dodge furniture and find her way in the dark.
But tonight, halfway down the hall, she ran into a solid object. Six feet three inches of near-naked male. Gray’s warm bare chest and arms. His shoulders, bulky and smooth. His sculpted, cow-wrangling muscles. And he was only wearing boxer shorts.
‘Gray.’ She was suddenly breathless and flushed and—
‘What’s the matter with Anna?’ he demanded, stepping past her.
Holly came rapidly to her senses. ‘She’s having a nightmare.’
As they hurried into the children’s room, she gave herself a mental slap. Okay, so having a close encounter with this man’s partly naked body was likely to send almost any female into a tizzy, but what had happened to her priorities? What about poor Anna?
In the children’s bedroom she switched on a lamp and the room was illuminated by a soft pink glow. Anna was huddled in a tight ball in the middle of her bed, sobbing, ‘Mommy! Mommy!’
Gray looked appalled and helpless, but Holly was sadly used to this scene. Kneeling on the bed, she drew the little girl into her arms. ‘There, there. It’s okay.’ She stroked Anna’s silky hair. ‘It’s okay, honey. You can wake up. You’re all right.’
She felt the mattress dip beneath an extra weight. Gray was sitting on the other side of the bed, his eyes fierce and filled with concern. Lifting a shaking hand, he touched his daughter’s tear-stained cheek.
‘Anna,’ he whispered. ‘Anna, baby.’
‘Daddy!’ The little girl lifted her head from Holly’s shoulder, then turned and hurled herself into her father’s arms. Within minutes her shuddering sobs calmed and she buried her face into his chest.
Holly couldn’t blame her. What little girl wouldn’t want to be held safe in those big, strong, manly arms?
Just the same, she couldn’t help feeling rejected. After weeks of comforting Anna during these middle of the night crises, Holly had suddenly become redundant.
She looked across to Josh’s bed. In the early weeks he’d been the first to jump up, trying to calm his sister. Lately, he’d been more inclined to lie quietly, wide awake, knowing that Holly would come, that Holly knew what to do and that the storm would eventually pass.
‘Hey there, champ,’ Holly whispered.
‘Hey,’ the boy returned softly and then he yawned.
‘You go back to sleep.’ She leaned over to drop a kiss on his warm, still baby-soft cheek. He really was the greatest little guy. She adored him.
Adored them both.
When she turned back to see how Anna was now, she found Gray watching her, and it was then, in the warmth of his gaze, that she remembered that he wasn’t the only adult in this room who was half undressed. She was in her thin cotton nightie—little more than a long, baggy T-shirt with a trail of dog’s paw-prints stamped across her chest.
She tried to shrug off the intimacy of this situation, of being here with Gray, both in their pyjamas, tending to his children in the middle of the night. But the intimacy seemed even greater now after their afternoon in the park and their shared meal. Almost as if the four of them were a little family.
Good grief, what am I thinking?
How could she betray Chelsea with such thoughts? Very soon she would be waving goodbye to this father and his kids. In the fall, she would embark on an exciting new career.
Enough already.
Determined to be sensible, Holly said softly, ‘I think Anna will be okay now.’
In the early weeks, she’d taken the little girl back to sleep in her bed, but lately she’d been weaning Anna out of that habit.
‘Perhaps she’d like a drink of water.’ Holly handed Gray a glass from the nightstand and watched as Anna took a few sips. ‘We can leave the lamp on for five minutes,’ she said.
‘Okay, princess?’ Gray gently eased his daughter back into bed.
Holly pulled up the covers and tucked her in. ‘Night, night.’
The little girl looked peaceful again, curled on her side, eyes closed, golden curls gleaming softly in the lamplight as she clutched her favourite fluffy koala.
Gray gave his daughter a kiss and his son a gentle shoulder thump.
‘’Night, Dad.’
When Gray and Holly were safely down the hallway once more, Gray let out his breath with a whoosh.
‘My God,’ he said quietly. ‘That scared the living daylights out of me. I’d rather hear a crocodile growling at my elbow than my own daughter screaming.’
‘Anna’s screams are heart-rending,’ Holly agreed.
‘Has this been happening all along? Ever since Chelsea—?’
Holly nodded. ‘It was worse at first. She’s getting better. This is the first nightmare in a while.’
‘Maybe she’s had too much excitement for one day.’
‘Perhaps that’s it.’
Gray let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’m sure I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep.’ He ran stiff fingers through his thick dark hair. ‘It’s two o’clock in the afternoon where I come from. Would I disturb you too much if I made a cuppa?’
‘No, not at all. Go right ahead.’
‘If I make tea, would you like a cup?’
‘Tea?’ She laughed. ‘English tea?’
He shrugged. ‘English, American…I’m not fussy.’
‘I’m afraid I only have green tea or camomile.’
He pulled a face. ‘How about wine, then? I bought a couple of Australian reds in the duty-free.’
No, thank you.
Holly was sure she should get straight back to her room. Right now. She should not sit around in the middle of the night in her jammies having cosy chats and glasses of vino with her charges’ scarily handsome father.
‘I…I’d love a glass. I’ll…um…just grab a wrap.’
Okay, I’m a bird-brain, but I do have a good excuse, Holly consoled herself as she hurried away. Gray needed to talk about his children. He needed to debrief after the scare he’d had with Anna.
By the time she came back into the kitchen, safely covered by a tightly knotted kimono that ended well below her knees, Gray had, mercifully, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and he was freeing the cork from a bottle.
