Inherited: Baby

Yeah, like when pigs are allowed to run in the Melbourne Cup.

He nodded, satisfied with her answer, and straightened. ‘Good. How long do you have till you move out?’

‘A week.’

His frown deepened and she jumped in, pre-empting an offer for housing or worse, to stay with him. ‘But hey, at least I won’t have to pay removal costs.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘I’ll find a place,’ she said, getting up and swinging Chas on to her right hip, determined not to have this conversation.

She had a load of things to do, including finding a place to live, and wasn’t in the mood to face another interrogation, no matter how kind his intentions.

‘Uh-huh.’

The dubious look he sent her clearly spoke volumes about his opinion of her house-hunting abilities.

‘Look, thanks for dropping by to let me know what’s going on. I appreciate it but right now I have to get ready for work.’

‘You’re going to work today?’

He appeared shocked, obviously finding the thought of her returning to work the day after his brother’s funeral appalling. However, before she could jump down his throat, he followed up with, ‘I’m sorry about all this.’

He spoke quietly and, though the words had been an afterthought, she didn’t doubt his sincerity.

‘Thanks,’ she said, reaching out and giving his hand a quick squeeze, surprised when he turned his hand over and gripped hers, his warmth infusing her with a powerful strength that had her wanting to hold on for ever and never let go.

She looked down at their intertwined hands and all but yanked her hand out of his, shocked at how right it felt, scared that a man she hardly knew suddenly held more than the faintest attraction for her. And he was Joe’s brother!

She was sick. Deranged. Every bit as bad as that woman at the funeral had labelled her and she had to get away from him, fast.

‘I really have to rush,’ she mumbled, feeling heat surge into her cheeks, knowing she must look like a blushing freak but helpless to do anything about it.

‘Ring me if you need me, okay?’

‘Yeah.’

She avoided his eyes, turning her back to gain precious seconds to reassemble her wits, silently praying he’d be gone by the time she turned around.

However, as she heard his footsteps recede, it wasn’t relief that flooded her body but a strange feeling of loss.

CHAPTER FOUR

FINDING A NEW place to live proved to be the least stressful activity Maya faced all week. Compared with the confrontation with Joe the night he died, his death, the funeral, having almost everything she owned repossessed, being kicked out on the street and Riley’s dogooder ways, moving into the tiny brick terrace house in Flemington was child’s play.

Speaking of which, Chas chose this week to cut a new tooth too, ensuring two sleepless nights, constant grizzles and a low grade fever which had her reaching for the thermometer constantly.

One heck of a week.

But thankfully, as it drew to a close, she actually looked forward to the weekend. She should be grieving, pining for the love of her life, but her emotional estrangement from Joe had happened so long ago. The strange feeling of relief which had permeated her grief at the funeral had continued. She didn’t miss him. Sad but true.

Shaking her head to clear the gloomy memories, she led Material Girl, her favourite thoroughbred, towards the stalls. The faint sound of a child’s cry carried on the brisk morning breeze and she turned her head towards the main house where a nanny looked after Chas along with the Gould children, hoping her darling boy was behaving himself.

In reality, pretty much a single mum from the time of Chas’s birth, she hadn’t believed her luck when Brett Gould, her boss, had offered a place for Chas alongside his own kids up at the big house. There had been no question of her giving up work: she loved her job too much and Brett said she was the best strapper he had, he’d ever had.

Besides, Material Girl wouldn’t run in a straight line unless Maya was around. Seeing as the mare was Brett’s number one hope for the Melbourne Cup this year, Maya’d had little choice. He’d offered her a rise, child-care and a huge tip if the horse won the Cup. How could she have refused?

Working had ensured some freedom from Joe and, thankfully, she’d saved enough to place a bond on the place she’d just rented. Her mind refused to contemplate what would’ve happened if she’d solely depended on Joe; right now, she’d be out on the street.

Or forced to accept Riley’s charity— something she definitely didn’t want to do. The less time she spent in that guy’s presence, the better.

The cry of a toddler came again, louder this time and Maya hurried towards the stalls, hoping to finish up quickly and head to the house. However, with her attention fixed firmly on the second storey lead-light nursery window, she missed her step, her right foot catching in a divot on the track and twisting painfully.

‘Darn it!’ she muttered, unwittingly yanking on the mare’s bridle, who let out an accompanying whinny of disapproval.

‘Sorry about that, girl,’she said, shocked at the mind-numbing pain shooting up her calf to her knee as she patted the mare’s neck, trying to soothe the horse while tentatively taking weight on her ankle.

‘Shi-shkabob!’

Maya stopped dead, leaning on the mare and staring in dismay at her right ankle, which had apparently doubled its size in five seconds flat and was bulging against the worn leather of her boot.

Material Girl turned her head and nuzzled Maya, blowing softly through her giant nostrils, and Maya managed a grimace-like smile.

‘You feel my pain, don’t you, girl?’ She rubbed the mare’s nose and the horse whinnied in response.

However, as intuitive as the horse was, it didn’t help the sick feeling in Maya’s gut that she’d just done serious damage to her ankle. She couldn’t think about the repercussions on her job if that were the case.

Thankfully, her workmate Albert, who’d just dismounted in the nearby yard, helped her to a bench and put the mare in her stall.

‘You reckon it’s broken?’ he said, sending a doubtful glance at her ankle and backing away when she shifted her other foot.