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‘Tory Dibble. Jeanette’s girl.’
Becca knew Jeanette, who was in Morgan’s grade at school, but her daughter was older than the twins, so she didn’t know her except by sight. ‘How bad?’
‘She’ll have a long road. It could have been worse.’ He shot a weary smile at her. ‘No brain injury.’
Becca drooped in relief. She understood how hard it was. Not as hard as the Smith’s though, who had lost Brittany in the same accident as Dan’s injury. ‘Tony’s back in town. For Ashleigh’s wedding.’ Another of their classmates. She wondered if Morgan was going to the ceremony.
The doctor raised his brows. ‘Tony? Poor kid. The accident really cut him up. I never expected him to come back, although his family’s here. How do you know? Or do I need ask?’
‘Beryl must have had her spies out.’
‘That woman needs to pull her head in. Between her and Lynne at the post office, they have a monopoly on the gossip in this town.’
Becca could feel herself shrivelling.
‘Don’t let her get to you, girl. She’s got nothing to use against you.’
‘No. Not now.’ Although with Morgan back in town, it might stimulate her memories of the past and she wasn’t afraid to make sly innuendos. The most important thing was to keep Morgan away from the twins. Having them at Morgan’s parents’ place after school was asking for trouble. But they were too young to be latchkey kids and her only other friend who might be able to take them lived too far out of town.
Hopefully, once Morgan began work full-time at the surgery, there would be minimal chance of him coming across the children. Gabby especially would be curious. She was too clever not to add all the clues together. It had probably been a mistake letting the twins spend so much time at the Cavanaugh’s place. They could easily have figured things out already. Which might explain the constant angst from Gabby.
***
Morgan walked slowly across the paddock, heading for his parents’ place. He hadn’t seen as much of them as he’d intended. The old homestead was sound but organising the plumbing and electrical work was a priority if the place wasn’t to burn to the ground. In his spare time, between getting to know his new job, he’d had to do numerous minor repairs. It was hard to admit, but the physical work was tiring. He simply didn’t have the stamina for sustained effort. Yet. He had to be patient. A lesson in the learning.
A couple of kids on bikes were pedalling up the driveway and he watched curiously. His father had mentioned something about looking after a neighbour’s children after school while their mother was at work, but this was the first he’d seen of them. It surprised him. Grace wasn’t a motherly type, at least not with other people’s children.
A tall girl around twelve or thirteen, red hair showing under her pink bike helmet, led the way. She was closely followed by a younger boy with dark hair. They were already at the house by the time he threw a leg over the strip of rubber tubing that protected him from the barbed wire at the top of the fence which separated his new property from his old home. A gate was on the list of renovations, but not as urgent as making the house safe to live in.
He strolled past the two bikes leaning against the side of the house, making for the kitchen door in the footsteps of the younger visitors. He’d always liked children. There’d been far too many needing treatment during his sojourn in the rural areas of Rwanda and the other countries he’d worked in over the last few years. He’d been lucky to get an internship with a specialist in tropical medicine which meant he’d been able to head overseas after only a year doing his residency. It had made all the difference, considering his mental state in those few years after leaving Maiden’s Landing.
The gabble of young voices told him the children were in the kitchen and he pushed the door open. He met his mother’s startled gaze and hesitated, but she recovered quickly and smiled. ‘Morgan, do come in.’
Silence greeted him from the young fry, two pairs of wide eyes, one blue and one pair a disturbingly familiar brown. Becca’s eyes.
His mother paused in pulling biscuits out of the oven. ‘This is Gabby and this young man is Edward.’
‘Walters.’ Morgan supplied the surname automatically. Becca’s children. He’d thought he would be the father of her children. Eventually. They’d planned on a family, once both of them had finished their studies and had done their bit for the world. There’d always been the possibility of coming back home and taking over the clinic from Doctor Farrell. Now he was doing it alone. Except Becca was there too. Out of reach. Mother of these children and wife to another man.
He focused on his mother. ‘I thought I might join you for afternoon tea.’
‘We have to do some homework first,’ a young voice piped up.
The girl. Gabby. He studied her lanky frame and bright head of hair. There was a familiarity nudging his memory, but he couldn’t place it. She could have been his, going on the colouring, if he hadn’t known better. He couldn’t see a resemblance to either Dan or Becca in the long narrow face.
‘I can wait. What are you doing?’
‘Maths.’ It came out with a roll of those expressive eyes. He glanced up as his father came into the room meeting a pair of faded blue eyes. Something jolted in his gut as he compared the two. No, the shape was different and the girl’s mouth was fuller. Her nose was long. Like his? Something almost like disappointment sent bile to the back of his throat. He was an idiot. Still hankering for the past. All the same, something drew him to find out more.
He sat down beside the girl. ‘Do you like maths?’
‘It’s okay.’ She showed him the worksheet she’d pulled out of her backpack along with a brightly coloured pink pencil case. The boy, Edward, was doing the same, his pencil case a more modest dark green tartan. Morgan felt the curious gaze of both children.
Gabby had a frown pulling together the bright ginger brows as she studied him. A stranger in their midst. ‘You know my mother, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He didn’t know what to say under her speculative gaze. He could hardly say he might have been her father. She was part of a family unit. He couldn’t be a part of wrecking a family out of his own bitterness, if what he half suspected were true. Nausea churned in his gut.
If it were true it meant he’d made a terrible mistake. Yet there was the younger boy to prove she’d moved on with Dan. Gabby’s existence didn’t mean he’d been wrong about something happening between her and Dan back then. It hadn’t been hard to believe Dan’s hints. There’d always been an edginess in Becca’s reactions to her step-cousin that he’d wondered about. All the same, her mistake, if it was one, could be forgiven in the circumstances. Although forgiving himself might come harder.
