Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall

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       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘NIC?’

      ‘Yes, honey?’

      It was Christmas Eve, dinner was long over and all the children had quietened down after a rowdy game of Trouble. Ella was sitting next to Nicola on one of the sofas, her head resting against Nicola’s shoulder. The soft weight of the child and her absolute trust pierced straight into the centre of Nicola, making her wish …

      She pulled in a breath and pushed the thought away. She would not allow it to mar the mood of the evening. Contentment stretched through the living room, along with expectation and hope. The atmosphere as unique to Christmas as the scent of cinnamon and mince pies.

      She glanced down when Ella didn’t continue with her question. ‘What do you want to know, pumpkin?’

      Ella chewed her lip and then climbed right into Nicola’s lap. ‘What if Santa doesn’t come?’

      She suppressed a smile. ‘Why wouldn’t he come?’

      She shared a glance with Cade. He wore a pair of grey cargo shorts and a blue shirt that matched his eyes exactly. Holly had fallen asleep and he cradled her in his arms. The contrast between the big, tanned man—the broad shoulders and the long, strong legs—and the small child with her delicate pink-white skin and fine blonde hair, made her breath hitch and the pulse in her throat quicken. Everything about him ravished her senses. She forced her eyes back to Ella before he could see the desire that flashed in their depths.

      ‘Well …’ Ella drew out, ‘Waminda is a very, very, very long way from Brisbane.’ To her childish mind, Brisbane was the centre of the universe. ‘Maybe,’ she continued, ‘Santa doesn’t know we’re here.’

      ‘But we sent him a letter, remember?’

      ‘Do you think he got it?’

      ‘I’m sure of it.’

      The blue eyes, so like her father’s, brightened. Ella’s questions, her hope, reminded Nicola of the Christmases of her own childhood—the loneliness and inevitable disappointment. She understood Ella’s fear. ‘And don’t forget,’ she whispered to the child, ‘Santa is magic.’

      ‘So he’ll come?’

      ‘Uh-huh.’

      ‘You promise?’

      ‘I promise.’

      Her assurances seem to satisfy Ella, who snuggled into Nicola all the more securely. Cade sent Nicola such a warm smile of thanks it curled her toes.

      ‘Nic?’

      What this time? She glanced down. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Do you think Mummy will come tomorrow?’

      Every adult in the room—Cade, Harry, Verity, Dee and her husband, Keith, who’d arrived earlier in the day—all stiffened. Nicola did her best to keep her body relaxed. Ella would unconsciously pick up on any tension she radiated and it would unsettle and upset her.

      Was this—seeing her mother—what Ella had pinned all her Christmas hopes on? The greyness of Cade’s skin, the haggard expression on his face, made her heart burn. Whatever anyone else in the room thought, she couldn’t lie to Ella. If seeing her mother was the child’s dearest wish, it would be hard getting her through tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be as bad as giving her hope that would go unfulfilled.

      She caressed the hair back from Ella’s brow. ‘Pumpkin, I haven’t spoken to your mummy, but I don’t think she’ll be able to make it tomorrow.’

      ‘The day after?’

      Nicola’s chest cramped. How could any woman turn her back on such a beautiful, loving child? Fran must have a heart of stone. She tried to keep her breathing steady. ‘We can keep our fingers crossed, but I really don’t know. I think she’d let us know if she was coming for a visit.’

      She watched as Ella digested her words. ‘Will you be here?’

      ‘I promise.’ She crossed her heart. ‘And we’re all going to have such fun tomorrow. I mean, you have your daddy and Holly here, and your grandma, Auntie Dee and Uncle Keith, not to mention Simon and Jamie, and Harry and me. That’s pretty lucky, don’t you think?’

      Ella thought about that for a moment and then she smiled. ‘Yes,’ she pronounced. ‘And you really, truly think Santa will come?’

      ‘I really, truly do.’

      Will you sing a Christmas carol?’ Ella whispered.

      Ella’s favourite was Silent Night, so Nicola started to sing it. One by one, the other adults joined in. Before the first verse was over, Cade rose to put Holly down. By the end of the song, Keith and Dee had taken a twin apiece and Cade returned to carefully lift Ella from Nicola’s arms.

      ‘I’ll be fine,’ he murmured when she made to rise too.

      She couldn’t read his eyes, but she subsided into her seat, sensing he wanted to be alone with his daughter, to stare down at her while she slept and to give thanks for her.

      Harry pushed out of her chair. ‘I’m off to bed.’

      ‘Nicola—’ Verity rose ‘—I suspect we’ve seen the last of Dee and Keith for the night.’

      Nicola grinned. The couple’s evident delight at seeing each other after ten days apart had been all too plain.

      ‘I also suspect that it will be a big day tomorrow.’

      ‘I expect you’re right on both counts.’

      ‘So I’m going to retire early.’

      ‘Sleep well.’

      Verity turned in the doorway. ‘I’m glad you’re spending Christmas with us this year.’

      She couldn’t mistake the older woman’s sincerity, and she had to swallow down an unexpected lump. ‘Thank you. I’m glad too.’

      When Cade returned, he glanced around and blinked.

      She laughed. ‘It seems the consensus was for turning in early.’

      He collapsed on the sofa beside her. ‘Fair enough.’

      She stared at him for a moment. ‘You okay?’

      ‘Sure, I …’

      ‘Ella’s СКАЧАТЬ