His Miracle Bride

It was so warm….

‘How long did you say your dad would be?’

‘He said an hour. The appointment was for half past ten.’

‘It’s now well after eleven. Shouldn’t he be back by now?’ Shanni said cautiously.

‘Yes,’ Wendy said, and her bottom lip trembled. Just a bit. She caught herself almost before the telltale quiver happened, but Shanni had seen.

She felt like quivering herself.

Uh-oh.

She was only staying here until Pierce got home, she told herself. Then she was out of here fast. But these kids were starting to look more scared than she was. She couldn’t leave them. Nor could she sit round in this appalling mess worrying about where Pierce was.

They were all staring at her, and Wendy’s poorly disguised quiver was reflected on each of their faces.

They’d lost their mum. Pierce was late.

Their world wasn’t as stable as they might like.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll ring the doctor’s surgery, shall I?’

‘Yes,’ said Wendy, sounding relieved.

So she rang. Yes, he’d been at the doctor’s surgery.

‘He has to collect a prescription before he goes home,’ the receptionist told her. ‘And he’s probably taken the opportunity to go shopping. Has he left those poor children by themselves?’

There was enough censure in her tone to make Shanni back off.

‘No. They’re with me.’

‘If there’s a problem…’

‘Why would there be a problem?’

‘The child welfare people aren’t all that happy about the way he’s coping.’

Her voice was loud enough for Wendy, clinging to Shanni’s side, to hear.

‘Tell her we’re coping fine,’ Wendy said, her face flushing. ‘Yeah, Dad’ll just be shopping. We’re okay.’

‘We’re okay,’ Shanni said, and put the phone down.

‘They want to take us away from Dad,’ Wendy said.

Maybe they, whoever they were, had grounds.

But meanwhile…She could hardly phone the police and report Pierce missing. Not yet. She’d give him a bit of leeway.

But there was still fear on four little faces.

‘There’s no earthly use looking like that,’ she told them, mentally rolling up her sleeves, girding her loins, doing whatever a girl had to do before launching into battle. ‘If you’re worried about child welfare, then we need to show them we’re coping.’

‘How are we coping?’ Wendy asked.

‘By cleaning.’ She stared at the mound of dishes. ‘First thing first. This is a big job, so we need a major battle plan. I’ll chop enough wood to light the fire and get some hot water. Lots of hot water. A sink isn’t going to cut it. Let’s fill the bath. Donald, can you find us a pile of clean towels? The rest of you carry every dirty dish—except the knives, we’ll leave the knives for me—into the bathroom. Boys wash and girls dry. I want the whole bathroom filled with clean plates, so clean they sparkle. I’ll clean in here, and then we’ll bring the clean things back in.’

‘We can’t,’ Donald said. ‘We’re not old enough to wash dishes. Only Wendy.’

‘Nonsense,’ Shanni said with a lot more briskness than she felt. ‘Big doesn’t mean clever. Take your boots and socks off so if you get wet it doesn’t matter. Washing in the bath is fun. Do you have a sound system—for music?’

‘P…Dad has one,’ Wendy said. ‘He’s got lots of CDs.’

‘Then let’s put on a bouncy work CD,’ she said. ‘Something like Abba. Do you know Dancing Queen?’

‘Yes,’ Abby said, her eyes lighting up. ‘Our Mummy liked Abba. That’s why she called me Abby.’

‘Then we’ll put on Abba.’

‘I don’t know whether Dad’s got Abba,’ said Wendy.

Huh?

No matter. Questions could wait.

‘Let’s look then, shall we?’ Shanni said, sounding a lot more decisive than she felt. ‘Cos this house looks like it needs about a hundred Abba CDs to lick it into shape.’

At four o’clock the sun slipped behind the Craggyburn Post Office clock tower and Pierce and Bessy lost their sunshine.

Bessy woke first. She wiggled in her car seat, reached across to Pierce, put her pudgy hand into his mess of unkempt brown curls and pulled.

Pierce woke like he’d been shot.

‘Mmmphf,’ Bessy said in deep satisfaction at the results of one small tug.

‘Bess,’ Pierce said, coming to and trying to stop his eyes watering. ‘Boy, you don’t know your own strength.’

He winced and rubbed his head. He stirred and he stretched.

He gazed sleepily up to the clock tower.

The world stilled.

Surely he hadn’t. Surely…

Oh, God, he had. He’d been away for over five hours. Almost six.

He reached for the ignition, his fingers fumbling in haste. A woman from the pharmacy was restocking shelves in the window. She saw him backing out of the parking space, and she waved to him frantically to stop.

He paused and she came to the door.

‘Your prescription’s filled,’ she called. ‘We wondered when you’d wake up. You should be more careful. Mr Connelly, the pharmacist, says the baby’ll probably be sunburned.’

Not bad at all.

Shanni stood back and surveyed the pencil sketch she’d just done with a tinge of admiration. Her very first cow. It even looked like a cow.

Its leg looked a bit funny.

She checked her line of kids. Four kids. Four boards with paint, four brushes, four makeshift easels. Intense concentration. Good.

Four o’clock. How long before she called someone in?

She looked across at Wendy who was working with almost desperate absorption.

Donald, Bryce and Abby were silent, too.

Damn him. What was he playing at?

She should call…

Wendy looked across at her, her eyes pleading.

Not yet.

Pierce was struggling to stay under the speed limit as he and Bessy flew homeward. Bessy was rested and cheerful, crowing in delight at the soothing feeling of wind against her increasingly itchy skin.

Pierce might have rested but he didn’t feel rested. He’d left them for an hour hoping the woman—who was it? Shannon? No, Shanni—would arrive.

Even if she had arrived, she’d be long gone by now. The kids would be terrified.

He turned the last curve—and there was a police car in the yard.

The police…

It’d be the pharmacist, he thought, remembering the prissy set to the man’s mouth as he’d handed over Bessy’s medicine. The whole town thought these kids would be better off in care. And now…

‘I’ve stuffed it big time,’ he told Bessy as he lifted her from the car. ‘I don’t deserve to have you guys.’

Where was everybody?

Two policemen appeared from behind the hayshed.

Accompanied by a redhead.

A woman. Small. Slim. Faded jeans. Bright red windcheater, splodged with green paint. A yellow bandana catching back shoulder-length flaming curls. Green paint smeared on a snubbed nose. Freckles.

Memory stirred. One of Ruby’s family weddings. A nightmare of being alone. A kid the same age as him, taunting, ‘He’s one of Aunty Ruby’s strays. He’s a bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard.’

Then a skinny little girl, dressed in a scarlet party frock and with a huge pink bow in her flaming hair, marching up to her big cousin and stomping hard on his foot. So hard the kid had yelped.

‘Gee, I’m sorry, Mac,’ she’d said, and she hadn’t sounded sorry at all. Then she’d turned to him and smiled. ‘Hi. My name’s Shanni. What’s yours?’

He’d remembered. That tiny piece of kindness and bravado had stayed with him, to be used as an inward smile at need.

Could this really be her?

‘Pierce, dear, we’re over here,’ she said, smiling brightly and waving to him like he was her long-time cousin. ‘How’s our darling Bessy? Did you get the things I wanted from the store?’

‘Um…hi,’ he said weakly, and the memory of the stomping was suddenly crystal clear.

Amazingly the cops were smiling as well. Pierce recognized them—an older cop who had family in the town, and a younger guy whose stock in trade was aggression. They’d been here two weeks ago with the child welfare officers.

They’d left then looking grim. They weren’t looking grim now. The younger guy was smiling almost fatuously, and the older guy was looking on with benign amusement.

‘So, Friday night…’ the young cop said to Shanni.

‘Can I let you know?’ Shanni said. ‘I need to sort out rosters with my cousin. It wouldn’t do to leave the kids by themselves.’

Ouch.

‘We’ll see you round, then,’ the older cop said benignly. ‘Good luck with that cow, miss. I’m sure you’ll get that leg right in the end.’

‘I’ll ring you on Friday,’ the young cop said, waving a slip of paper. ‘Thanks for your number. I won’t lose it.’

They waved to Pierce in friendly salute. They climbed into the police car, and they were gone.

Leaving Pierce with Shanni.

CHAPTER TWO

‘UM…YOU’RE Shanni,’ he said, and he sounded dumb.

‘You think?’ Shanni said, arching her eyebrows. She’d stopped walking toward him the minute the police car left the yard. She didn’t come one inch closer. ‘You might want to check. After all, it’s important to be sure who you leave in charge of your children.’

‘Look, I…’

The bouncing smile and the charm were put carefully aside. ‘What the hell are you playing at? Wendy’s terrified. I came within an inch of telling those policemen that these kids would be better off in foster care. What sort of a father are you? Where the hell have you been?’

He focused on the one tiny thing he had control over. ‘Do you mind watching your mouth? I’m teaching them not to swear.’

She took a deep breath. ‘You are kidding?’ she said at last. ‘Abandoned, starving kids being taught not to swear.’

‘They’re not starving.’

‘So what did you leave them for lunch?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, forcing his dazed brain to think. ‘There’s eggs, steak, sausages, frozen chips…’

‘All of which require a stove,’ she said dangerously.

‘We’ve got a stove.’

‘And the kids were going to light it how?’ Shanni was looking at him like he was something that had crawled out of cheese.

‘Look, I went to sleep.’

‘Really?’ She raised one quirky eyebrow. ‘You had a little nap. So your kids starved.’

‘Kids don’t starve from missing lunch.’

She glared.

‘Dad,’ said a small voice, and it was Wendy, approaching from behind Shanni.

She stayed behind Shanni. She didn’t come near. It was like she was using Shanni as a shield.

The weight around his heart grew heavier. He’d let Wendy down. This puny kid who had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He’d been gaining her trust. A little.

‘Hell, Wendy…’

‘Don’t swear in front of the children,’ Shanni said icily.

‘Look, I fell asleep,’ he said desperately. ‘I didn’t sleep at all last night. Wendy, tell her I didn’t sleep. I had to take Bessy to the doctor’s, and then I had to wait for the prescription to be filled. I sat in the car and waited because you can’t leave kids alone in the car, and I just slept.’ He spread his hands. He might never convince Shanni, he thought, but it was Wendy who was important.

There was a lengthy pause while Wendy considered. Shanni remained silent.

‘He really didn’t sleep last night,’ Wendy said at last, talking to Shanni. ‘Maybe he didn’t sleep the night before, either,’ she added. ‘I had a nightmare and woke up. He made me hot chocolate.’

Shanni’s iciness thawed, just a little. ‘You’re saying he has an excuse?’

‘He looks awful,’ Wendy said.

‘He does,’ Shanni agreed. ‘When did he last shave?’

‘He looks okay when he’s shaved,’ Wendy said. ‘Or when he’s a little bit bristly. He’s too bristly now.’

This sisterhood thing was getting scary. But they were coming down on his side. Maybe.

‘Oooohh.’ It was Bessy, beaming at Wendy.

Wendy walked forward and snatched Bessy from his arms. Then she retreated behind Shanni again. They weren’t completely on his side. Wendy must have been terrified.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he told her, while Shanni practised her glare some more.

‘I thought you’d run away,’ Wendy said.

‘I won’t. I told you.’

‘Men tell lies. Mum said that. Men always tell lies.’

There was another lengthy pause, worse than the last. Pierce tried to think of what to say. Nothing came.

The silence extended. The three of them were gazing at him like he was a maw worm. Wendy and Shanni…even Bessy.

Then, ‘You know, my dad doesn’t tell lies,’ Shanni said, thoughtful. ‘Honest. And I’ve known my dad for twenty-nine years. He makes mistakes—once he even left me at the ice rink for five hours cos he was reading a really good book—but he doesn’t tell lies. Are you hungry?’ she asked him.

Food was the last thing he was thinking of. Though, come to think of it…

‘I guess I am a bit.’

‘There’s cold sausages,’ Wendy said. ‘We cooked a lot for lunch cos we thought you’d be home. And Shanni made choc-chip cookies.’

‘Shanni’s made choc-chip cookies?’ He stopped looking at Wendy. Yep, he’d betrayed a trust, and somehow he had to figure out a way to retrieve himself—but there was nothing he could do about that right now. But somehow Shanni’s ice-rink story had lessened the tension. And sausages…Choc-chip cookies…

‘They’re my specialty,’ Shanni said modestly. ‘You didn’t have choc chips so we had to squash a block.’

‘The fire’s not lit.’

‘We lit it,’ Wendy said. ‘We had to light it to get hot water to do the dishes. And I’ve eaten five choc-chip cookies.’

‘You lit the fire? But the wood…’

‘Shanni chopped it. The boys stacked it. The wood box is full.’

Shanni had chopped the wood. She’d lit the stove. She’d made choc-chip cookies. He stared.

‘I know,’ she said, pseudo-modest. ‘Call me Wonderwoman.’

‘Ruby said you’re an artist.’ His tone was almost accusatory. He heard it, and tried desperately to retrieve himself. ‘I mean…’

‘I think I’m converting to wood chopping,’ Shanni said. ‘I’ve failed cows’ legs, and chopping vents anger.’

‘Anger…’

‘Now, why would I be feeling anger?’ she said, to Wendy rather than him. ‘To be brought here under false pretences…’

Whoa. Things were spinning away from him. ‘False pretences?’ he said weakly.

‘One baby,’ she said, and tugged Wendy against her in another display of the power of sisterhood. Men, the gesture said. The despicable species. ‘One baby does not equate to five kids. Ruby told me one baby. I rang you from my friend’s and you said one baby.’

Uh-oh.

‘I didn’t say one baby,’ he said weakly. ‘But, yeah, Ruby would have told you one baby. To be honest, when you rang I thought I’d get you here any way I could and try and bribe you into staying once you got here.’

Beam me up now, Scotty, he thought bleakly. I’m an outright bastard.

But suddenly they had a diversion. Bessy had been nestling against Wendy’s shoulder, content from her drive. But Bessy was eight months old. She hadn’t been fed since breakfast. She was a young lady with chicken pox.

Bessy suddenly recalled all this in one huge momentous wash of outrage. She opened her mouth, and she yelled.

‘Can you stay at least until we’ve fed Bessy?’ Pierce asked over the yells.

‘I’m staying until you’ve done some explaining,’ Shanni said grimly. ‘I need to murder you or I need to murder my Aunty Ruby, and I can’t figure out which.’

She should leave.

Since Bessy’s initial howl there’d been no time to do anything but run. There certainly hadn’t been time for explanations.

Bessy had needed feeding, bathing, soothing, more soothing, more feeding. The kids had needed baths and dinner. The cattle had needed feeding. Okay, Pierce had done that one on his own. Shanni had stayed in the kitchen and supervised the kids’ dinner while watching Pierce out the window.

There was a huge cow—a bull?—in the paddock closest to the house. Pierce had wheeled a vast bale of hay to the gate on a hand cart, opened the gate and spread the hay.

Wasn’t that dangerous? The cow had looked…looked…

Cute, she’d decided as Pierce had scratched it behind the ear. The big creature had almost purred, leaning its big body against Pierce until he staggered. Really cute.

Actually, not as cute as Pierce.

He was tall and lean and angular. His deep brown curls were unkempt and too long. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days and he had shadows under his eyes. His jeans and windcheater looked like he’d been sleeping in them. He looked almost gaunt.

Her impression of Pierce aged fifteen had been that the guy was hot.

Nothing had changed.

What wasn’t hot was five children.

But she did feel sorry for him. To be stuck with five kids…

It was his choice.

It was hardly his fault that his wife had died.

No, but…

‘What are you thinking?’ Wendy asked shyly. The kids were tucking into scrambled eggs like there was no tomorrow.

‘I’m thinking you guys have hollow legs. What have you been eating?’

‘Pie…Dad’s not a very good cook.’

‘Do you call him Pierce?’

‘Yes, but not in front of people,’ Bryce told her, scooping up another mouthful of scrambled egg and closing his eyes in bliss. ‘This hasn’t got a single bit of black on it.’

‘Scrambled eggs is my second specialty, after choc-chip cookies.’

‘Pizza’s Dad’s specialty,’ Wendy said. ‘But the last time we ordered it Dad forgot we didn’t have any cash and the pizza guy wouldn’t take a cheque or credit card and now he won’t come back.’

‘I can make pizza.’

‘You’re kidding.’ It was Pierce, standing in the doorway, surveying the domesticity before him with amazement. ‘You cook pizza?’

‘She means she gets those boxes in the supermarket and thaws them out,’ Bryce said wisely.

‘I do not,’ she said, taking umbrage. ‘I can cook them from the ground up.’

‘Will you cook us one?’ Abby asked.

‘Maybe tomorrow. If I get the ingredients.’

‘Will you stay then?’ Donald was the quietest of the kids. He’d hardly spoken since she’d arrived. He’d simply watched her. Even when she’d set them all to painting, she’d been aware that Donald had never stopped watching her. Now he asked his question and it was like a challenge.

‘For tonight.’ She blinked. Yeah, okay, she was committing herself, but where else was she going to sleep? ‘Tell me you have a spare bed.’

‘We have a spare bedroom,’ Pierce said.

‘It’s Mummy’s bedroom,’ Donald said, still gazing at her with that unwavering stare.

Mummy’s bedroom. Oh, heck. ‘Um, doesn’t Daddy sleep there?’

‘He sleeps upstairs in Bessy’s room,’ Abby said.

‘She keeps waking up,’ Bryce added.

‘Wendy used to get up to her when Mummy was sick,’ Donald said, tilting his chin. ‘Cos Mummy didn’t want Pierce to. But Pierce does it now.’

‘Didn’t your mummy die when Bessy was born?’

‘Just after,’ Donald said.

This was stuff she didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to try. ‘Isn’t it bedtime?’ she asked weakly, and Pierce nodded.

‘It surely is.’

‘Will Shanni tell us a bedtime story?’ Abby asked.

‘I will,’ Pierce said gruffly.

‘We want Shanni,’ Wendy said.

‘I’m washing up.’ Shanni was feeling completely confused. What was going on here? Pierce looked defeated. Battle weary and exhausted. And he’d slept today.

‘Your dad reads you bedtime stories,’ she managed. ‘That’s his job. I’m the housekeeper—I keep house. It’s up to Pierce to keep kids.’

Pierce took almost an hour to read them their stories. When he finally came downstairs, Shanni was sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by stuff.

The more he looked at her, the more he remembered that ten-year-old Shanni. She’d made him smile then and she had that power still, just by sitting in the middle of his kitchen floor. Which was dumb. Dangerous, even.

‘What you doing?’ he managed.

‘This isn’t a fridge, it’s an ecosystem.’ She carefully didn’t look at him. Instead she held up a jar where purple fuzz fought with green slime. ‘Didn’t Fleming invent penicillin this way? Are you searching for a patent cure for chicken pox?’

‘Leave it.’

‘Hand me a rubbish bag,’ she said. ‘Left to breed, this could take over the world.

He found a rubbish bag and held it out. She scooped in so much stuff that even he was hornswoggled.

‘I’m usually neat,’ he said defensively, and she nodded.

‘I remember you at fifteen. You were…neat.’

He glowered. ‘I believe I was wearing a suit.’

‘Blue pinstripe if I recall.’

‘That the rest of the boys thought was…’

‘Poncy. Yeah, I remember you were teased.’

He gazed down, trying to figure things out. Where did she fit? He couldn’t remember. Ruby had simply referred to her as ‘our Shanni’. Our Shanni would love to come and help out.

All he could remember was the oversized bow and the stomping foot and the smile. Mostly the smile.

‘I can’t exactly remember the connection,’ he said apologetically.

‘My dad is Ruby’s younger brother.’

‘So you are…?’

‘Lucy and Will’s daughter. They’re academics. They’re currently in Switzerland.’

‘I don’t remember Lucy and Will. But I remember you.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘You stood on Mac’s toe.’

‘I did, didn’t I?’ she said, and grinned at the memory. ‘He’s grown up to be a used-car dealer. Ruby says he married a woman who’s a real harpy. Good old Mac.’

‘Why did you come?’

‘Aunty Ruby asked me.’ She held up something greenish. ‘Courgette?’

‘Cucumber.’

‘A bit past its use-by date, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I—Yes.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you had five kids?’

‘I don’t believe I told you anything.’

‘But Ruby didn’t say.’

‘Ruby doesn’t know.’

‘Ruby doesn’t know you have five kids?’

‘No.’

‘You didn’t tell Ruby?’

‘I barely see Ruby. There’s no need to tell her everything.’

‘Yeah, so omit a little something. Like four kids. Something’s rotten here and I don’t know what.’ She’d been foraging in the rear of the fridge and now she emerged triumphant. ‘No, this is dried out. I’m sure it’s a courgette.’

‘Could we cut this out?’

‘Cleaning?’

‘The inquisition.’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘And will you get off my floor? I hardly know you.’

‘You know me enough to trust me with your kids.’

‘I had no choice. I had a doctor’s appointment and there was no other available appointment until tomorrow. I loaded the kids in the car, then realized the tyre was flat and so was the spare. You were coming. Ruby said you were trustworthy. So I trusted.’

‘You left me alone deliberately?’

‘No,’ he roared, so loudly that there was a whimper from above their heads.

‘You’ve woken Bessy,’ Shanni said.

‘Shush.’

They both shushed. Bessy whimpered again, and then settled.

‘Take that outside,’ Shanni said, motioning to the rubbish. ‘It’s disgusting.’

He did. It gave him room to take a few deep breaths. He stared up at the night sky and counted to ten. Then he decided to count to a hundred.

Finally he figured he’d better return. Shanni was still cleaning his fridge. All he could see of Shanni was one very cute, denim-clad butt emerging from his refrigerator.

He took a couple of moments to admire the view. Hell, he missed women. Twelve months now of enforced celibacy. Twelve months down and how many to go?

Not months. Years. What had he let himself in for?

‘You want a whisky?’ he asked the butt, and the butt stilled.

‘A whisky?’

‘Don’t say it like I’m the local lush,’ he said. ‘I allow myself one whisky when all the kids are in bed. Surely a man can have that without being accused of child neglect?’