The Bridesmaid's Baby. Barbara Hannay

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      The longing swept through her now as she knelt in the straw beside the calf she’d just delivered. The birthing had been difficult, needing ropes and a great deal of Lucy’s perspiration, but now, as she shifted the newborn closer to his exhausted mother’s head, she felt an all too familiar wrench on her heartstrings.

      The cow opened her eyes and began to lick her calf, slowly, methodically, and Lucy smiled as the newborn nuzzled closer. She never tired of this miracle.

      Within minutes, the little calf was wobbling to his feet, butting at his mother’s side, already urging her to join him in a game.

      Nothing could beat the joy of new life.

      Except…this idyllic scene was an uncomfortable reminder that Lucy had very little chance of becoming a mother. She’d already suffered one miscarriage and now there was a failed IVF treatment behind her. She was sure she was running out of time. The women in her family had a track record of early menopause and she lived with an ever growing sense of her biological clock counting off the months, days, hours, minutes.

       Tick, tock, tick, tock.

      Swallowing a sigh, Lucy stood slowly and stretched muscles that had been strained as she’d hauled the calf into the world. She glanced through the barn doorway and saw that the shadows had lengthened across the golden grass of the home paddock.

      ‘What’s the time?’ she asked Jock Evans, the farmer who’d called her in a panic several hours earlier.

      Instead of checking his wrist, Jock turned slowly and squinted at the mellowing daylight outside. ‘Just gone five, I reckon.’

      ‘Already?’ Lucy hurried to the corner of the barn where she’d left her things, including her watch. She checked it. Jock was dead right. ‘I’m supposed to be at a wedding rehearsal by half past five.’

      Jock’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting married, Lucy?’

      ‘Me? Heavens, no.’ Peeling off sterile gloves, she manufactured a gaiety she didn’t feel. ‘Mattie Carey’s the lucky girl getting married. I’m just a bridesmaid.’

      Again, she added silently.

      The farmer didn’t try to hide his relief. ‘I’m glad you haven’t been snapped up. The Willow Creek district can’t afford to have you whisked away from us.’

      ‘Well, there’s not much chance.’

      ‘Most folks around here reckon you’re the best vet we’ve ever had.’

      ‘Thanks, Jock.’ Lucy sent him a grateful smile, but as she went through to the adjoining room to clean up, her smile wavered and then collapsed.

      She really, really loved her job, and she’d worked hard for many years before the local farmers finally placed their trust in a mere ‘slip of a girl’. Now she’d finally earned their loyalty and admiration and she knew she should be satisfied, but lately this job hadn’t felt like enough.

      She certainly didn’t want to be married to it!

      For Will Carruthers, coming home to Willowbank always felt like stepping back in time. In ten years the sleepy country town had barely changed.

      The wide main street was still filled with the same old fashioned flower beds. The bank, the council chambers, the post office and the barber shop all looked exactly as they had when Will first left home.

      Today, as he climbed out of his father’s battered old truck, the familiar landmarks took on a dreamlike quality. But when he pushed open the gate that led to the white wooden church, where tomorrow his best mate would marry one of his oldest friends, he couldn’t help thinking that this sense of time standing still was a mere illusion.

      The buildings and the landscape might have stayed the same, but the people who lived here had changed. Oh, yeah. Every person who mattered in Will’s life had changed a great deal.

      And here was the funny thing. Will had left sleepy old Willowbank, eager to shake its dust from his heels and to make his mark on the world. He’d traversed the globe more times than he cared to count, but now, in so many ways, he felt like the guy who’d been left behind.

      From inside the church the wailing cries of a baby sounded, a clear signal of the changes that had taken place. Will’s sister Gina appeared at the church door, jiggling a howling ginger-headed infant on her hip.

      When she saw her brother, her face broke into a huge smile.

      ‘Will, I’m so glad you made it. Gosh, it’s lovely to see you.’ Reaching out, she beckoned him closer, gave him a one armed hug. ‘Heavens, big brother, have I shrunk or have you grown even taller?’

      ‘Maybe the weight of motherhood is wearing you down.’ Will stooped to kiss her, then smiled as he studied her face. ‘I take that back, Gina. I don’t think you’ve ever looked happier.’

      ‘I know,’ she said beaming. ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? I seem to have discovered my inner Earth Mother.’

      He grinned and patted her baby’s chubby arm. ‘This must be Jasper. He’s certainly a chip off the old block.’ The baby was a dead ringer for his father, Tom, right down to his red hair. ‘G’day, little guy.’

      Jasper stopped crying and stared at Will with big blue eyes, shiny with tears.

      ‘Gosh, that shut him up.’ Gina grinned and winked. ‘You must have the knack, Will. I knew you’d be perfect uncle material.’

      Will chuckled to cover an abrupt slug of emotion that had caught him by surprise. Gina’s baby was incredibly cute. His skin was soft and perfectly smooth, his eyes bright and clear. There were dimples on his chubby hands and, crikey, dimples on his knees. And, even though he was only four months old, he was unmistakably sturdy and masculine.

      ‘What a great little guy,’ he said, his voice rough around the edges.

      Gina was watching him shrewdly. ‘Ever thought of having a little boy of your own, Will?’

      He covered his sigh with a lopsided grin. ‘We both know I’ve been too much of a gypsy.’

      Reluctant to meet his sister’s searching gaze, Will studied a stained glass window and found himself remembering a church in Canada, where, only days ago, he’d attended the funeral of a work colleague. He could still see the earnest face of his friend’s ten-year-old son, could see the pride in the boy’s eyes as he’d bravely faced the congregation and told them how much he’d loved his dad.

      Hell, if he let himself think about that father and son relationship now, he’d be a mess in no time.

      Hunting for a distraction, Will slid a curious glance towards the chattering group at the front of the church. ‘I hope I’m not late. The rehearsal hasn’t started, has it?’

      ‘No, don’t fret. Hey, everyone!’ Gina raised her voice. ‘Will’s here.’

      The chatter stopped. Heads turned and faces broke into smiles. A distinct lump formed СКАЧАТЬ