Claiming His Family

Even though Luke wasn’t astride a stock horse or wearing an Akubra hat, he looked so like the photograph on Joey’s nightstand that his son couldn’t fail to recognise him.

‘Hey, Dad!’ Joey shrieked, and began to rush forward, but after three or four steps he stopped, overcome by shyness.

Erin, pushing the loaded luggage cart, tried to catch up with the boy, but she too was gripped by a vexing hesitation. It was like a bad dream where she couldn’t seem to move. She’d come so far, all the way from Manhattan, but these last few steps seemed impossible.

Perhaps she should have accepted her sister’s offer to accompany Joey in her place.

How terrible this was. The three of them were like a still-life tableau—Erin in her trendy New-York black trouser suit, suitably crease-resistant for travelling—Luke, an Outback man in the city, in pale moleskin trousers, a long-sleeved, blue cotton shirt and carefully polished elastic-sided riding boots—and little freckle-nosed, redheaded Joey, staring up at his father as he clutched his favourite possessions in a NewYork Yankees backpack.

They stood there, stiffly silent and awkward in the midst of the busy, bustling airport.

And then they seemed to come to life at once. Luke’s hands came out of his pockets and his mouth quirked into a quarter-smile. With his eyes fixed on Joey, he stepped forward. Erin forced their luggage cart to move once more. Joey hitched his backpack over one shoulder and grinned.

‘Hi, Dad.’ His face was glowing as he looked up at Luke.

‘Hello, Joey.’ Stooping low, Luke offered his right hand and Erin held her breath as she watched the man and the boy greet each other. She felt a leaping sensation in her chest as she saw the deep emotion in Luke’s eyes, the shining pride in Joey’s.

This was such a big moment for Joey—the culmination of months of longing and desperate impatience that had begun last autumn when he’d started school—when he’d suddenly become obsessed by a need to know everything about his father.

Now, as Erin watched, Luke’s eyes seemed to devour the boy. What was he thinking? Was he remembering Joey’s birth and how proud he’d been of his new baby son—how smitten they’d both been?

Was Luke looking for a physical resemblance to himself?

Superficially, Joey looked more like Erin’s family, the Reillys. Both she and Joey had inherited dark red hair from her Irish father and their smallish noses were a Reilly feature too. But already it was clear that Joey was going to be tall like Luke and his high cheekbones were an unmistakable Manning legacy.

And the boy’s eyes were smoky indigo, a true mixture of Erin’s bright blue and Luke’s deep grey.

She wondered if she should break the silence, but it was Joey who rescued the moment.

Shooting Luke a self-conscious grin, her son said, ‘Good day, mate,’ in his best attempt at an Australian accent.

Luke’s face broke into a helpless crooked smile. ‘G’day, little mate.’ His voice sounded choked as his big brown hand ruffled Joey’s buzz cut. Then he tapped the logo on Joey’s backpack. ‘How are the Yankees? Have they had a good season?’

Joey nodded shyly and then Luke looked in Erin’s direction, his eyes bright yet wary.

Smile. She had to look cool and okay about this. Detached. Smile, dammit.

But her lips refused to curve and she was forced to tighten her cheek muscles until her mouth pulled outwards and upwards into a very mechanical grimacing smile.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to look pleased to see her. ‘Hello, Erin.’ His gaze was cold again and he spoke through tight lips.

‘Hi, Luke.’ She lifted her right hand, but then let it fall back onto the handle of the baggage cart. Best not to attempt to shake hands—it would be too embarrassing if Luke ignored her.

His jaw clenched, then relaxed. ‘How was the flight?’

She shrugged. ‘Very long.’

He nodded grimly.

Erin switched her attention to Joey, who was standing between them, and she stroked his cheek with her knuckles. ‘This little tiger managed to sleep for eight hours, so he’s ready and raring to go.’

‘That’s great.’

Joey’s eyes shone as he stared up at Luke. ‘Your cattle ranch is humungous, isn’t it, Dad?’

‘It’s big.

‘As big as the whole of Texas?’

‘Don’t be silly, Joey.’ Erin’s voice sounded too tense but it couldn’t be helped. ‘You know it’s not that big.’

‘Well, it’s bigger than Manhattan.’ Joey giggled with the cheerful confidence of a kindergarten kid, not yet required to come to grips with geography.

‘Quite a lot bigger than Manhattan,’ Luke agreed. He turned to Erin. ‘Let me push that cart for you.’

‘It’s okay. I’m managing.’

Overriding her foolishness, he stepped forward and his hand closed around her wrist. Oh, help. What was the matter with her? Did he notice how she almost jumped out of her skin?

For a breathless stretch of time he looked down at her small white hand, trapped by his, so large and brown. The contrast wasn’t merely one of gender and size. The difference between Erin’s sophisticated NewYork manicure and Luke’s work-toughened, calloused palm signalled everything that had been wrong about their union.

‘You’ve had a long flight and you’re tired,’ was all he said as he wrested the cart from her. ‘Let’s go. I’ll take you to the hotel.’

Without another word, he turned abruptly and pushed the cart before him as he marched towards the escalators that led to the car park.

Joey hurried to keep up with Luke and after a small, somewhat weary sigh Erin followed.

‘I wish we could go straight to your ranch, Dad,’ Joey said as the escalator carried them to the floor below.

‘You know that’s not the plan.’ Erin’s tone held a tense warning. ‘I told you Warrapinya is way up north near the top of Australia.’ For Luke’s benefit she added, ‘I’ve explained to him that he’ll be spending a day in Sydney first.’

She’d insisted on this. Heaven knew she wasn’t looking forward to spending time with Luke, but she needed to discuss ground rules with him before he took off into the Outback. And she needed to observe how Luke interacted with Joey. No way was she going to hand her little boy over for two months in Luke Manning’s care unless she was sure they would get along well.

‘Can we fly all the way to your ranch?’ Joey asked Luke.

‘We certainly can.’

They reached the next floor and Luke hurried forward again. Joey was almost running to keep pace with his long stride. ‘Do you really fly your own plane?’ The boy’s voice was squeaky with excitement.

‘Sure do. I’ve just upgraded to a twin engine.’

‘Oh, wow! That’s so neat.’ Joey’s face was a picture of adoration.

Following behind them, Erin gnawed at her lip. It rankled that Luke had acquired a small plane and his pilot’s licence after their marriage broke up. There’d been no planes available when she’d lived on Warrapinya and had desperately needed one.

But it was useless to dwell on what might have been. The marriage between the bride from Manhattan and the boss of Warrapinya had been doomed from the outset and it was only sensible to leave it where it lay. Discarded. Dead and buried.

As they headed out through automatic sliding glass doors and into the parking area Joey’s piping voice and his endless questions added to her tension.