Father In Secret

‘What’s happened to you in the last fifteen years, Theo?’

Savannah watched his face change and he stepped away until there was some distance between them.

‘I grew up.’ He looked at her and smiled briefly. ‘According to my ex-wife, I became harsh, a loner and refused to be tied down.’

Savannah added, ‘You also became a very good doctor.’

‘Thanks.’ The comment was dry.

‘Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman yet. One day you’ll find her, get married and have children.’

Theo laughed bitterly. ‘Having children will make everything all right, will it?’

‘I said, with the right woman.’

‘What about you, Savannah? Could you be that woman?’

Fiona McArthur lives with her ambulance officer husband and five sons in a small country town on the north coast of Australia. Fiona also works as a midwife part-time in the local hospital, facilitates antenatal classes and enjoys the company of young mothers in a teenage pregnancy group. ‘I’m passionate about my midwifery and passionate about my writing—this way I’m in the happy position of being able to combine the two.’

Now that her youngest son has started school, Fiona has more time for writing and can look forward to the challenge of creating fascinating characters in exciting medical romances for her readers to enjoy.

Recent titles by the same author:

MIDWIFE UNDER FIRE!

DELIVERING LOVE

Father in Secret

Fiona McArthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

‘THE judge said he was better off with me. I’m his mother. So put the money in the account every month and you can see him when I say you can.’

The Blue Mountains shimmered in the sunlight, but the shadowy depths of the thickly wooded gullies mirrored the darkness inside him. Theo McWilliam wondered how he had ever married Marie. He’d thought she was Snow White with her long black hair, creamy skin and those red, red lips. He’d fallen hard and married her straight away. She’d been so sweet in the beginning, and so plausible to the judge at the end. But her black heart showed clearly now. The selfish witch had his son but certainly not because she loved him as a mother should. No, Marie was just using Sam to get back at Theo.

At first there had been no problem seeing his son, as long as he hadn’t kept Sam overnight. Marie had agreed for Theo to take Sam for the day on most weekends because it had suited her. Then it had changed. The money hadn’t been enough.

Lately, when he’d driven the five hours to Sydney to pick Sam up, he’d found the house empty. No one home even to ask.

Sometimes she’d cancel at the last minute and the more frustrated Theo became, the more it seemed to amuse her.

Now it had come to this.

He’d planned some time with Sam on the farm at Bendbrook for several months. Marie had reneged again, just as Theo had arrived in Sydney to collect Sam. To have this time with his son snatched away had ruined Theo’s holidays—not to mention the gut-wrenching part of it—and he was scared Sam would forget who his father was.

Theo fought the urge to tuck the boy under his arm and run. They could find somewhere new to live. Let her try and find them. He could taste the adrenaline in his mouth but his lawyer had warned him against it. ‘You’ll lose him for good,’ he’d said.

He had to do this the right way. He would wait for the time that he could take Sam home permanently and never again have to worry whether or not his son was happy in Sydney with his selfish mother. But time passed slowly in limbo, and Theo wondered how long he could postpone the rest of his life.

CHAPTER ONE

SHE was almost there.

Savannah Laine could feel her pulse quicken. In the past, she’d been the visitor here but this time the valley opened its arms to welcome her home.

The sun shone despite the unaccustomed chill for October. Stretching in front of her was an undulating vista of tree-studded, rolling hills, divided by the thick serpentine coil of the Bendbrook River as it wound its way from the mountains of its birth.

She’d always thought of it as the most beautiful valley in the world. But maybe that was because she had people who cared about her here.

The deeper into the valley she drove the narrower it became. Once past the tiny post office at Upper Bendbrook, the road became a thin, dusty ribbon that sprayed a cloud of billowing brown powder behind her as if to disguise her passing.

Finally, she arrived and she couldn’t help sighing in relief. Her dust-covered Subaru bumped across the cattle grid and up the twin tracks of the driveway to the house.

Savannah swallowed the lump in her throat, stepped out of the car and filled her lungs with the tangy aroma of lemon-scented gum-trees and the sweetness of wisteria. Despite a slightly forlorn tinge of neglect, the farmhouse looked the same as it always had—welcoming.

She stood on her uncle’s verandah, looking out over his paddocks. No, her paddocks, she corrected herself. A copper-coloured hen ran across the boards beside her and she smiled. She was a country girl now.

Benson, her mother’s black miniature poodle, yelped and cringed as the monster squawked past. Savannah reached down and scooped him up one-handed and she could feel his little heart flutter against her fingers.

Now that he was safe, he yapped belligerently at the trespasser.

‘Benson the Braveheart comes to the rescue. I feel so much more secure.’ She watched the hen cluck down the verandah steps. She patted Benson’s head.

‘Before we do anything, I’ll ring Mother to say we’ve arrived.’ Not that her mother particularly cared, but Savannah would go through the motions anyway.

Benson tilted one ear at her and yapped again.

Savannah sighed. ‘I know. But I promised.’

She unlocked the door and stepped into the gloom of the house. Not bothering to turn on the light or pull a blind until she’d completed the task she wasn’t looking forward to, she crossed to the old black wall phone and dialed the number. Finally her mother answered the phone.

‘Laine residence.’

‘Hello, Mother, it’s Savannah.’

‘Yes?’

‘Bridget mentioned you wanted me to ring when I arrived safely.’

‘Did she?’ Savannah could clearly visualise the vague stare as her mother tried to remember if she’d said such a thing to her housekeeper. Then she would shake her head and smile, and decide it was unimportant.

‘So you’re at that place.’ She said it as if she could detect an unpleasant smell. ‘It seems a waste to have the downstairs flat empty now. It seems like you’ve only just moved back in with me. Just because one man let you down, that doesn’t mean you have to run away on your own and leave your mother.’

‘I’m not on my own. Benson’s with me.’

‘Benson who?’

Savannah sighed. ‘Benson the poodle. He was your dog, Mother. Remember?’

‘Oh, yes. Lovely little black thing. I’m glad he’s happy with you, dear. Anyway, there’s always a home here if you decide to sell the place for whatever you can get for it. I’ll mention to Bridget you’ve arrived safely. Thank you for ringing.’ The line went dead.

Savannah felt like a telephone salesman with a product not required.

She squeezed the little dog. ‘Why do I leave myself open for that?’ Then she shrugged and pushed it from her mind with the ease of long practice. ‘Bridget would have worried.’ Benson tilted his head but didn’t answer.

‘Well, I’m excited.’ Now Savannah turned to survey the inside of the house. She pulled the string on the nearest blind and the sun streamed in to illuminate the swirling dust motes in the air.

Alone again. Except for her brave warrior dog.

Maybe she was mad, but for the first time in a long time she did feel at peace. She didn’t need to please anyone but herself. Typically, even in eternal sleep, her uncle had saved her sanity.

The next two hours passed in pursuit of dirt and drifts of spiders’ webs, and for someone who hated housework, Savannah scrubbed the little house until it shone. She sang along to the same early Slim Dusty records her uncle had collected. They’d always sung when she’d been a child here and the two of them had yodelled their way through the household chores.

She’d just swept the last of the leaves off the verandah when Benson barked. She glanced up and the dust dried in her throat. A man was walking up her driveway. And she was here, alone. She looked around the verandah and finally at the broom in her hand. Not exactly a deadly weapon!

She moistened her lips and swallowed. Take a deep breath, woman. Either she was going to live here, be self-sufficient and confident, or she could high-tail it back to the rat race and lock herself in her mother’s downstairs flat. She held the broom in one hand, caught Benson up against her chest with the other and drew herself up to her full five feet nothing. Then she waved. Even aliens could come in peace.

He didn’t wave back. Great. She bit her lip.

He was a man all right. His strong thighs pumped as he strode up the hill under the well-cut jeans. She couldn’t tell his age because of the shade thrown over his face by the broad-brimmed black Akubra, but he was fit. Rampantly fit. She gulped.

Of course, that was judging by the speed he covered the distance between them—and the way the sun shone off his muscles below the shoulders of his sleeveless shirt. She tried to dredge up some saliva in her mouth and her heart felt as if it was beating as fast as Benson’s. She could almost feel the testosterone from here. How come men in the city didn’t shout about their maleness like this guy did?

At least he stopped at the bottom of the verandah steps. That gave her time to swallow again. The dark bristles of five-o’clock shadow glinted on his chin while a faint drift of soap assured her he bathed. She smiled to herself at the normality of soap and her shoulders relaxed a little. He was human.

Savannah remoistened her lips. ‘Good afternoon. Can I help you?’

He lifted his hat and raked springy chocolate-brown hair back off his forehead. His eyes were dark blue and really quite beautiful. She lost the plot for a moment as she was drawn into them. Benson squirmed in her arms, trying to bury his head further under her arm. It helped bring her back to reality.

The man turned his hat in his hands and she wasn’t sure if he was being polite or just letting his head breathe.

‘Afternoon. You’re Andy’s niece?’ His voice was deep and clear. A strong voice for a strong man. She supposed she’d expected a slow drawl. She suppressed a shiver of awareness.

‘Savannah Laine. And you are?’

‘Theo.’ She knew that name and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. The country solicitor had said he’d arranged for Theo to care for the stock until she could come. She’d imagined a crusty old farmer. Well, he looked like a farmer but there was certainly no crust—and he wasn’t old either!

‘The gentleman who’s been looking after the animals? Thank you for that.’

‘No problem. Your uncle was a great guy.’ His statement seemed genuine but his gaze held no hint of sympathy for her. It stiffened her spine.

‘Yes, I know.’ She ignored the prickle of tears in her eyes and changed the subject. ‘The animals. That was my next job. So how many animals are there?’

He raised thick brown brows at her ignorance. ‘In the pig shed there’s six sows, a boar and a dozen or so growers that need to go to market soon. I’ll come down with you and run you through the feed schedule board tonight, if you like.’

That many! Savannah swallowed.

He went on. ‘There are twenty or so fowls. If you want to sell any eggs put them in a carton in your mail box and the mailman will leave you two dollars. And there’s one rooster, but I’d be knocking him on the head. He’s a pain.’

Savannah tried to imagine herself knocking a rooster on the head—what did you use? A hammer? She shuddered. ‘He’s probably safe for the moment.’

Theo gave a short laugh and it changed his face into something less harsh.

Thank goodness for that. For a while there she’d thought he was the frozen man. His eyes warmed in genuine amusement and became even more mesmerising until they went cold again. She dragged her attention back to what he was saying.

‘Then there are the cattle—twenty Murray Grey breeders, a placid Murray Grey bull and fifteen vealers.’

She’d helped her uncle with the farm animals over many holidays—she wasn’t scared or lacking in confidence—but that was a heck of a lot of lives depending on her.

‘That’s all?’

‘Just Billy the horse and a couple of ducks and geese, but they’re pretty self-sufficient.’

Savannah nodded and tried to look nonchalant. ‘If you’re not in a hurry, I could come down and see the pigs with you now. What time do they normally eat?’ She put Benson down and descended the stairs to the boot rack.

Theo looked at Benson cringing and quivering on the verandah. He shook his head in disgust. Savannah thought she heard him say ‘Dishmop’ but couldn’t be sure.

He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve been coming around about five in the afternoon and eight in the morning, but they’re pretty flexible. If you leave them too long, they’ll let you know.’

Savannah tapped the wellingtons upside down on the ground and slipped one foot into her uncle’s gumboots.

Theo was much taller than she was and she could feel him looking down at her.

His voice was serious. ‘I had a green tree snake in one boot and a red-back spider in the other one yesterday.’

Savannah’s foot hovered over the second boot. Had she checked it well enough?

She heard him snort and glared up at him. ‘Very funny.’

His face was deadpan. ‘So you reckon you can run this farm on your own?’

That snapped her head up. ‘Why? Do you think I can’t?’

He stared at her for a moment as if she’d really offended him, his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head once. ‘Lady, luckily, it’s not my problem.’ He turned and started to walk down the driveway to the sheds.

Macho moron. Savannah glared at the muscles of his back moulded against his shirt and clumped behind him in her uncle’s big boots. She’d have to get herself a pair she didn’t swim around in. She awkwardly skipped a couple of steps to make up some ground. Where had he learnt his social graces? The guy was a pain.

She almost laughed out loud when she remembered the rooster and what could happen to ‘pains’ around here. Theo probably wouldn’t notice if she hit him on the head with a hammer.

She caught up with him as they crossed the dirt road and entered the bottom paddock together. Savannah tried not to get her boots stuck between the rails of the cattle grid as she crossed, but it felt like there was a magnet drawing her into the broken spaces. The sheds were old but, thank goodness, made of thick hardwood planks that looked as if they’d still be standing if she had grandchildren one day.

It hit her then that she was the sole person responsible for a two-hundred-acre farm, a two-bedroom farmhouse and this menagerie of animals. She swallowed but Theo was getting away while she thought about it and she had to skip a couple more steps.

The pigs heard their approach and started to squeal and shriek in excitement. The thick smell of happy pigs cloyed the air but Savannah didn’t mind it.

It made her think of an uncle who’d paid her fifty cents per sty to hose them out, and had then taken her to the local show to spend the money. She could almost feel the tickle and taste of the fairyfloss they’d bought.

She followed Theo into the old office and stopped in front of the whiteboard nailed to the wall. Each pig’s name had a number next to it for the amount of pails of food it needed.

‘Bruce is the boar, I gather?’ She looked sideways at Theo. ‘So how come he gets three pails and Rosa only gets one and a half?’

‘Bruce has six women vying for his attention. He has to keep up his strength, poor guy. I couldn’t think of anything worse.’

‘Ah. A woman-hater. Personally, I feel sorry for Rosa and the other girls. He probably doesn’t shave.’

Why had she said that? She felt the rush of heat up her face but he didn’t even look at her.

‘They’re happy enough if you meet their material needs.’

I’ll bet there’s a story in that, she thought, but prudently restrained herself.

Theo had started instructing. ‘The pig pellets are in this drum. Make sure you put the brick back on top of the lid or the rats get trapped in there and jump out at you when you open it next.’

Savannah winced. That was one task she wouldn’t forget to do.

‘The pig’s water is piped to those drinking nipples at the side of each pen. You check the nipple as you feed to see if they’re working. The water is pumped from the river so you won’t run out.’

He looked at her from under his frown. ‘I hosed the concrete pens out early this morning but you need to do them at least every two days.’

‘My uncle usually did them daily and I’ll do the same.’

He grunted, looked at her as if to say ‘yeah, sure’, but didn’t comment. They walked the length of the big shed, doling out pails of feed from the bucket he’d filled and checking the water nipples. He stopped beside the last pen. ‘Louise’s litter is due in the next week. She should be fine.’

Savannah had had just about enough of his condescending looks. ‘I have my midwifery certificate, so I’m sure we’ll manage.’

His face twitched, then he smiled, and then he chuckled. It was deep and rumbly and infectious.

Savannah couldn’t help her own smile as she watched him in surprise. He threw back his head and she stared at the strong column of his throat as he laughed.

He wiped his eyes and dragged himself under control. And looked almost as surprised at himself as she was. ‘I’m sorry, it’s the thought of you telling the sow to breathe while you catch the piglets.’ His expression straightened. ‘I’d love to be a fly on the wall.’

His cheekbones were high and his lips were more sexy than sculpted. She wondered what those bristles would feel like against her face.

This was getting crazy. ‘Well, there seem to be a few flies already on the wall here, and I think that’s everybody fed. I need to meet the chickens.’

You coward, Savannah, she chided herself, but it was good to feel the breeze on her hot cheeks once they were outside the shed—and not just because of the smell.

They collected the eggs and he showed her the feed tin and how much to give. None of the cows were being milked so that was one chore she didn’t have to worry about.

She supposed it would be polite to offer him a drink for his help. But was it safe? She decided to take the risk. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘No, thanks. I’ll be going if you haven’t any more questions.’ He tipped his hat and presented her with his gorgeous back and taut backside as he walked away. Watching him, it made her want to sign up at a gym, although at least living this far out of town she was safe from that. She had a mental picture of herself working out in gumboots and smiled.

Theo certainly wasn’t a talkative blighter and was obviously not going to be an intrusive neighbour. The strange thing was her own disappointment because he didn’t want to stay.

Savannah clumped back up the driveway to the house. She decided against more unpacking and went to shower in the soft rainwater from the tank.

When she was finished, she stood in the steamy bathroom and her towel stilled as she remembered the impact Theo had made on her as he’d laughed in the shed. And even before that. She had to admit she couldn’t remember a more arresting man.

Unfortunately he made her think of barns and hay and dappled sunlight and naked skin on naked skin. It was as if Theo had found and activated her erotic thought button—which was funny because Greg hadn’t discovered it in the two years she’d lived with him.

She jammed the towel through the rail and shivered despite the sudden flush of heat that had invaded her body. Deal with it. She didn’t need to complicate her life with a man. Especially a sinfully physical one with attitude.

This was her chance to be herself. Not trying to be the person someone else thought she was. Not expecting anything from anyone. First her mother and then her ex-fiancé Greg had hurt her—letting her assume his wife was completely out of the picture. From now on she would rely only on herself. She could do this. She could run this farm, start work next week at the small local hospital and live a full life. Be happy as she hadn’t been since the times she’d spent here.

As she glanced around the spartan room the memories crowded her mind. Memories of days filled with laughter, her uncle’s booming voice and, way back in the past, her aunt’s quieter tones that had conveyed so much warmth. Savannah was the child they’d never had and they had been the parents she’d wished had been hers.

Even after her aunt had died, her uncle had still encouraged her to come. He’d called it her crazy place where she could be the child she couldn’t be when she lived at home with her widowed mother. A place to do silly things, like trying to ride a calf, climb trees or cuddle a piglet.

She remembered catching baby turtles in the creek with Dory, the older boy down the road. He’d seemed like a god to her with his long dark hair and broad shoulders. He’d left her tongue-tied one minute and feeling woman-wiser than him the next.

When she was fourteen, it was here she’d received her first kiss and fallen in love with the first boy who hadn’t loved her back. She could still remember the devastation. Her loyal uncle had dried her tears and had vowed Dory had no taste.

The sadness welled up for a moment at her uncle’s passing, and she felt herself stiffen to hold it in. Then she loosened her shoulders. She was home, after all. She could cry if she wanted to.

Savannah wiped the moisture from her eyes and sniffed. Her uncle had always been so proud of her. If only he’d told her he was sick, she would have come to help him even if Greg had objected. But it was too late now.

She crossed the bathroom, and opened the window to let in the fresh air. She was not going to think about Greg. From now on she was her own woman and this was a new life. She couldn’t wait to start work next week!

* * *

‘And this is our resident doctor, Dr McWilliam, whom we mentioned at the interview.’