A Miracle for His Secret Son / Proud Rancher, Precious Bundle: A Miracle for His Secret Son / Proud Rancher, Precious Bundle

Out on the field, Nick’s coach, Mel Crane, was giving the boy a pat on the back. Nick turned and saw Freya and he grinned and waved, called to his team-mates, then began to jog across the field towards her.

Nick was halfway to them before he saw Gus and his pace slowed. By contrast, Freya’s heart began to canter. She took deep breaths, trying to calm down, and she stifled a longing to reach for Gus’s hand. How crazy would that be? Gus was here to help Nick, and for no other reason.

She mustn’t give the impression that she needed him too. And she certainly mustn’t send Nick mixed messages about her relationship with his father. There must be no confusion.

Beside her, Gus dipped his head and spoke close to her ear. ‘I’ll take my cues from you.’

She nodded and pinned on a smile. Always assuming I know how to handle this. Problem was, etiquette advice didn’t cover this kind of introduction.

Nick didn’t run into Freya’s arms as he might have done a few years ago, but he let her kiss him. He smelled hot and dusty and sweaty and she relished the smell—the scent of a normal, healthy eleven-year-old footballer.

‘You were fantastic,’ she told him, as she told him after every game. ‘And you’ll beat them next time, for sure.’

Nick accepted this with a smiling shrug. Then he shot a curious glance at Gus.

Freya jumped in quickly. ‘Nick, this is Gus Wilder. He’s come back from Darwin with me.’

Nick’s dark eyes widened and a mixture of tension and curiosity crept into his face. ‘Hi,’ he said.

‘How do you do, Nick?’ Gus’s deep voice held exactly the right note of friendly warmth. He held out his hand and Freya’s heart tumbled as her son and his father exchanged a manly handshake.

‘You made some great plays out there,’ Gus said.

‘Thanks.’ Nick grinned, clearly warmed by the praise. He looked at Freya, his eyes flashing questions. Dropping his voice, he asked, ‘Is Mr Wilder—’

‘You can call him Gus, Nick. He’s a friend.’ Conscious of the people milling around them, Freya chose her words carefully. ‘He’s hoping to be a good match for you.’

‘Really?’ Nick’s grin widened and this time when he looked at Gus, his eyes absolutely glowed. ‘Wow!’

Gus’s eyes glowed too as he cracked a shaky smile.

‘So how did you find—’

‘Hey, Gus, is that you?’ a voice called from behind them. ‘Gus Wilder?’

Mel Crane, the football coach, was an old classmate from Sugar Bay High and he grinned madly and slapped a beefy hand on Gus’s shoulder. ‘Thought it was you. Good to see you, mate.’

‘Mel, how are you?’

‘Not bad. Not bad. What brings you back to the Bay? Are you here for long?’

Gus’s smile was guarded. ‘Just a short trip.’

Mel Crane’s pale blue eyes flickered with keen interest, and Freya’s anxiety levels began to climb. As Nick’s coach, Mel was one of the few people in the Bay who knew about the boy’s condition. He also knew that Freya and Gus had once been an item.

It wouldn’t be long before he put two and two together.

‘Young Nick played a terrific game today.’ Mel ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘But you know, Nick, Gus here was a great footballer.’ He gave Gus another hearty thump on the shoulder. ‘Lucky for me, he was also good at maths. He used to let me copy his homework.’

Nick laughed and Freya could see that his admiration for Gus was rapidly escalating to hero worship.

‘How do you know my mum and my coach?’ Nick asked Gus. ‘Did you used to live here?’

‘Ages ago,’ Gus said, carefully avoiding Freya’s eyes. ‘But I only lived here for a couple of years. Last two years of high school.’

Stepping in quickly before too many memories were laid bare, Freya said, ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to whisk Gus away now, Mel. We want to catch a few of the sights before it gets dark.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Mel said. ‘If you’ve got a spare moment while you’re here, Gus, drop in to the garage.’

‘Still the same place down on The Esplanade?’

‘Yep. My brother Jim and I have taken over from the old man.’

Gus shook Mel’s hand. ‘I’m staying at the hotel. I’ll call in.’

‘Lovely,’ said Freya quickly. ‘I think we’d better get going now.’ Keen to avoid being held up by anyone else, she shepherded Nick and Gus ahead of her to the car.

The worst wasn’t over yet.

For Gus, it felt surreal to be sitting in the car beside Freya, with their son in the rear, unaware that his life was about to change for ever.

‘So what sights do you want to see, Gus?’ Nick asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Gus shot Freya a questioning glance.

‘I think we should go straight home,’ she said.

‘But you told Mr Crane—’

‘I know what I told Mr Crane, Nick, but I needed an excuse to get away. I want to take Gus back to our place. There’s a lot to talk about.’

‘About the kidney?’

‘Yes.’

Nick flopped back in his seat and stopped asking questions. In the stretch of silence, Gus stole a glance back over his shoulder and found the boy watching him, his eyes huge and wondering. Gus sent him a smiling wink. Nick smiled shyly, and Gus felt his heart turn over.

Freya turned the car onto The Esplanade, where late afternoon shadows stretched across the beach. Sunbathers were packing up but a handful of hardy board riders were still catching waves. He watched them. He’d been like them once, not wanting to leave the water till it was almost dark, much to his mother’s consternation.

To his surprise, he saw that Freya was turning into a driveway. ‘Do you live here? Right on the beachfront?’

‘Where else?’ A quick smile flitted across her features, but it disappeared in a hurry and Gus knew she was nervous again.

The driveway ran next to a modern building of timber and glass. He caught sight of a sign in the front garden, with The Driftwood Gallery painted in pale tan on a cream background.

‘Hey, Urchin!’ A doggy blur and a wagging tail greeted Nick as they got out of the car. After giving the dog a rough and enthusiastic hug, the boy called to his mother, ‘I’m starving.’

‘Nothing new there,’ Freya responded with an elaborate roll of her eyes.