Miracle in Bellaroo Creek

Yes, Milla knew that Gerry Cavanaugh had learned hard lessons after being royally screwed by three wives. She had no intention of completing that pattern. ‘I don’t want Harry’s money.’

Ed narrowed his smoky grey eyes as he studied her for long thoughtful seconds. Then he shrugged. ‘I know you gave up your right to the money when you left the marriage, but now that Harry’s...’ He swallowed unhappily. ‘Now that he’s...gone...you still have a claim as his widow.’

‘I said, I don’t want any of it, Ed.’ She was determined to manage on her own and she didn’t want money from anyone—not even her own parents, who would have happily helped her out if she’d let them. For now, she was pleased that her mother and father were safely overseas and unaware of her plans.

Ed’s eyes widened as he stared at her, clearly taken aback by her claim. ‘Maybe it’s too soon for you to think about this.’

Milla felt a stirring of impatience. She wasn’t playing games. She was deadly serious. She still had some money in her bank accounts and that was all she wanted.

Most women would think she was crazy to knock back a fortune, and if she’d still had her baby to consider her reaction might have been different. But her take-home lesson from her marriage was that even Himalayan-sized mountains of money couldn’t buy the things that really mattered.

Sure, money bought power and glamour and ease and moments of heady excitement, but in her four years of marriage and rubbing shoulders with the mega wealthy she’d never seen evidence that these things added up to genuine, lasting happiness.

She only had to remember Heidi’s bone-deep contentment with her seemingly ‘boring’ life to reinforce this belief.

‘If you come back to the States,’ Ed said, breaking into her thoughts, ‘you and the baby will be much better off.’

Shocked, she looked up swiftly. ‘You know about the—about my pregnancy?’

‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘It’s wonderful news.’

So Harry had told them, after all...

‘That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it? Old Gerry sent you. He wants his grandchild to live in America.’

‘It’s understandable, Milla.’

‘It’s not going to happen.’

‘Look, I’m sure you need a little time to think this through.’

‘It’s not a matter of time. There’s no baby, Ed.’

‘What do you mean? What are you saying?’

Her voice quavered. ‘I lost it. I had a miscarriage.’

He looked shocked. ‘No.’

‘It’s the truth,’ she said tightly, but she saw doubt and suspicion in his storm-cloud eyes and realised, to her horror, that he wasn’t going to believe her.

Damn him.

He was pacing now, clearly baffled and probably angry.

‘Ed, this isn’t something I’d lie about. I was in a hospital, not an abortion clinic. I really wanted my baby.’ Her lips trembled and she drew a sharp breath, but she was determined that she wouldn’t dissolve into tears. The fainting spell had been bad enough. She had to be strong to stand up to this man.

‘If you don’t believe me, get that PI you hired to check out the RPA Hospital. I’m sure he’ll be able to ferret out the proof you need.’

‘Milla, don’t be like that.’

‘Don’t be like what?’ Her voice was shrill, but that was too bad. ‘I’ll give you don’t. Don’t you dare look at me like I’m lying about something that meant everything to me.’

Now she was so mad and upset she was shaking.

‘OK, I apologise.’ He stood before her, with his hands once again in his jeans pockets, his shoulders squared, his jaw tight, his eyes a battlefield where doubt and sympathy warred.

It was late afternoon and a wintry chill made Milla shiver. Shadows crept across the thick stone sill of the bakery window and spread along the brick walls and the ancient and worn stone floor. In the fading light, she could see that Ed looked deeply tired.

He’d had a long journey from New York and he’d probably driven straight from the airport. He had to be dead on his feet.

‘I’m sorry about the baby,’ he said quietly.

‘I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.’

The slightest hint of a smile flickered, giving a cynical tilt to his lips, but his eyes continued to regard her solemnly.

It was so not the right moment to remember the one time he’d kissed her. But the memory came, unbidden, bringing rivers of heat rushing under her clothes.

‘Maybe we can have a more civilised discussion about everything over dinner,’ he suggested.

‘There’s nothing to discuss.’

‘Milla, I’m not the Cavanaugh who stuffed up your life. Surely we can share a meal before I go back.’

Perhaps she was overreacting. ‘I guess. But there’s really only one place in town to eat and that’s the pub.’

‘I’ll need to check in to the hotel. You’re still staying there, aren’t you?’

Milla nodded. ‘Until I get this place cleaned up.’

‘This place?’ Frowning, Ed looked around the bakery as if he was seeing it for the first time. His steely gaze took in the metal tables, the big gas cooker, the trolleys and baking trays and bins, the massive oven that filled the far wall. Finally, his gaze rested on the brooms and mop and bucket in the corner. ‘Are you having the bakery cleaned?’

‘In a manner of speaking—except I’m the one doing the cleaning.’

This time, Ed didn’t even try to hide his disbelief.

‘I’m not only cleaning the bakery. I plan to get it up and running again.’ Before he could comment, Milla hurried to explain. ‘The former owners went broke, along with several other businesses here, and the local council is offering peppercorn rent for people willing to restart. I’ve put in an application for this bakery and, as far as I know, no one else is interested.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. ‘One question.’ He stared at her again. ‘Why?’

‘My family used to own this bakery. I know how to run a place like this. I grew up here.’

Still, Ed looked puzzled. ‘So?’

Milla sighed. How did she explain everything she’d seen and felt since her arrival in Bellaroo Creek? How could she explain her longing to do something meaningful after years of unfulfilling luxury and wastefulness?

This billionaire standing before her in his high-end designer-label jeans and polo shirt couldn’t possibly understand how the resurrection of this humble country bakery was an important chance to do something positive, not just for herself, but for a whole community.