no more heavy lifting, understand?”
When he left the room, she was alone with her news. Although…
“Not as alone as I was when I arrived, am I?” she whispered and dropped one hand to her flat belly.
Awe rose up inside her.
There was a child growing within her. A new life. A precious, innocent life that would be counting on her. But Maura was a woman used to responsibility, so that didn’t worry her. The fact that her child would grow up without a father was a bit of a hitch. When she’d imagined the day she would become a mother, she’d had hazy, blurry images of a faceless man standing at her side, rejoicing with her at the birth.
Never once had she considered being a single mother.
Heaven knew she hadn’t planned on this. Had, in fact been taking precautions—well, the over-the-counter precautions. It wasn’t as though she had sex often enough to warrant anything permanent.
Of course, she should have insisted Jefferson wear a condom, that would have been the intelligent thing to do. But neither of them had been thinking straight that night, she admitted silently. For herself, she’d been in such a hunger to have Jefferson over, under and in her, she hadn’t wanted to wait for anything.
Now, it seemed, there would be consequences.
But such wonderful consequences. All penances should be this happily paid.
A child.
She’d always wanted to be a mother.
Maura turned, looked out the window and watched as thick, pewter clouds raced across the sky. A storm was brewing, she thought, and wondered if it was a metaphor for what was about to happen to her life.
“We’ll be just fine, you and I,” she told her child, still keeping one hand tight to the womb where her baby slept. She would see to it that her child was safe and well and happy.
As soon as she got home, she’d call Jefferson. She’d keep the conversation brisk and as impersonal as she could, considering the situation. She’d tell him because it was right. But she’d also tell him she had no need for him to come rushing back. She wasn’t over him just yet and had no wish to see him again, stirring up things that had yet to settle down.
One phone call.
Then they’d be done.
Two months later…
“Mr. King said there would be no problems.”
Maura glared at the little man standing on her porch. He was short, bald and looked as though a stiff wind off the lake might blow him into Galway city. She showed him no mercy. “Aye, your Mr. King says a lot of things, doesn’t he?”
He took a deep breath as if trying for patience. She understood that feeling very well as she’d been trying for weeks and still hadn’t found any.
“We do have a contract,” the man reminded her.
She looked past him out to the film crew setting up tents and trailers and cameras with banks of lights surrounding them. Somehow she hadn’t expected the whole mess to be quite so…intimidating. As it was, she had dozens of people trampling the grass in her front yard and the complaining bleats from the sheep were as sharp as nails against a chalkboard. Swallowing her irritation as best she could, she said, “We do indeed and I’ll stay to the very letter of the contract.”
“Meaning?” the little man asked, his small tight mouth flattening into a grim slash across his narrow face.
“Meaning, I said you could be on my property, but nowhere near the lambing sheds.”
“But Mr. King said…”
“If you’ve a problem with me,” Maura told him, “I suggest you phone your I’m-so-busy-I-can’t-bother-to-return-a-messageKing and deliver your complaints to him.” Just before she slammed the front door, she added, “And I wish you good luck getting him on the bleeding phone as I haven’t been able to manage that no-doubt miraculous feat in the last two months.”
Jefferson King was juggling what felt like thirty different projects at once. It helped to stay busy. Thankfully, his position at King Studios ensured that he remained that way.
There
When he left the room, she was alone with her news. Although…
“Not as alone as I was when I arrived, am I?” she whispered and dropped one hand to her flat belly.
Awe rose up inside her.
There was a child growing within her. A new life. A precious, innocent life that would be counting on her. But Maura was a woman used to responsibility, so that didn’t worry her. The fact that her child would grow up without a father was a bit of a hitch. When she’d imagined the day she would become a mother, she’d had hazy, blurry images of a faceless man standing at her side, rejoicing with her at the birth.
Never once had she considered being a single mother.
Heaven knew she hadn’t planned on this. Had, in fact been taking precautions—well, the over-the-counter precautions. It wasn’t as though she had sex often enough to warrant anything permanent.
Of course, she should have insisted Jefferson wear a condom, that would have been the intelligent thing to do. But neither of them had been thinking straight that night, she admitted silently. For herself, she’d been in such a hunger to have Jefferson over, under and in her, she hadn’t wanted to wait for anything.
Now, it seemed, there would be consequences.
But such wonderful consequences. All penances should be this happily paid.
A child.
She’d always wanted to be a mother.
Maura turned, looked out the window and watched as thick, pewter clouds raced across the sky. A storm was brewing, she thought, and wondered if it was a metaphor for what was about to happen to her life.
“We’ll be just fine, you and I,” she told her child, still keeping one hand tight to the womb where her baby slept. She would see to it that her child was safe and well and happy.
As soon as she got home, she’d call Jefferson. She’d keep the conversation brisk and as impersonal as she could, considering the situation. She’d tell him because it was right. But she’d also tell him she had no need for him to come rushing back. She wasn’t over him just yet and had no wish to see him again, stirring up things that had yet to settle down.
One phone call.
Then they’d be done.
Two months later…
“Mr. King said there would be no problems.”
Maura glared at the little man standing on her porch. He was short, bald and looked as though a stiff wind off the lake might blow him into Galway city. She showed him no mercy. “Aye, your Mr. King says a lot of things, doesn’t he?”
He took a deep breath as if trying for patience. She understood that feeling very well as she’d been trying for weeks and still hadn’t found any.
“We do have a contract,” the man reminded her.
She looked past him out to the film crew setting up tents and trailers and cameras with banks of lights surrounding them. Somehow she hadn’t expected the whole mess to be quite so…intimidating. As it was, she had dozens of people trampling the grass in her front yard and the complaining bleats from the sheep were as sharp as nails against a chalkboard. Swallowing her irritation as best she could, she said, “We do indeed and I’ll stay to the very letter of the contract.”
“Meaning?” the little man asked, his small tight mouth flattening into a grim slash across his narrow face.
“Meaning, I said you could be on my property, but nowhere near the lambing sheds.”
“But Mr. King said…”
“If you’ve a problem with me,” Maura told him, “I suggest you phone your I’m-so-busy-I-can’t-bother-to-return-a-messageKing and deliver your complaints to him.” Just before she slammed the front door, she added, “And I wish you good luck getting him on the bleeding phone as I haven’t been able to manage that no-doubt miraculous feat in the last two months.”
Jefferson King was juggling what felt like thirty different projects at once. It helped to stay busy. Thankfully, his position at King Studios ensured that he remained that way.
There
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