Mctavish And Twins

‘I guess...I guess I see what you’re thinking,’ Erin managed finally, her voice trembling. She walked forward and placed her hands on the table, her eyes huge in her white face. ‘You think I’ve been sent over to get what I can for us. Is that what you think?’

‘It’s the obvious conclusion,’ Mike agreed calmly. ‘The local land agent told me Jack was thinking of selling because he knew I’d be interested in buying if the farm is sold. Then suddenly we have family interest. A lonely old man suddenly has family after twenty long years.’

‘A lonely old man suddenly has me,’ Erin whispered.

Erin could hardly think. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of impressions—and the overriding feeling was pain. This man was judging people she loved. Judging her father...

All these years the locals here had been thinking her father was a heartless, uncaring emigrant.

She wondered vaguely if her father knew what was thought of him in the place he still regarded as home. How it would hurt if he guessed! Her father loved this place more than she did.

‘Erin...’ Mike rose from his chair. The colour had bleached completely from Erin’s face and he could see the pain washing through her eyes. He’d be a fool if he couldn’t see it—and if there was one thing Mike McTavish wasn’t it was a fool.

He moved swiftly behind her and his hands dropped to her shoulders. ‘Erin, don’t look like that. You can’t help what your father is.’

The touch of his hands burned through the light fabric of Erin’s shirt. She wanted comfort so much. She wanted this man’s arms around her so much it was a physical ache. Yet here he was hurting her—hurting those she loved. What she felt in her heart was so far from common sense that Erin felt herself almost torn in two. She pulled away in real distress.

‘Don’t you touch me,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t...’

‘I only...’

‘You only thought you’d comfort me,’ she managed, and then caught herself. Comfort her? Mike McTavish had done that once before and ten years of heartache had ensued. Well, she wasn’t taking any comfort from him now.

‘I don’t need your comfort,’ she said bleakly. ‘I don’t need anything you have on offer, Mike McTavish, and my father sure as heck doesn’t need your good opinion. My father was brought up next door to you—he’s told me he and your father were good friends—and yet after we arrived in Pittsburgh all my father’s letters to yours went unanswered. He wondered why. And now I know. It was vicious, idle gossip and judgement. Judging things you know nothing about. Well, you and all the people in this nosy, judgemental district can take a long hike for all I care. There’s only my grandfather that matters.’

And, to her horror, she felt tears welling up and threatening to fall.

Erin blinked—and blinked again. And then she sniffed.

She was darned if she was going to cry before this man. No way!

She didn’t cry. She never cried!

She wiped the threatening tears angrily away with one hand while fending off Mike McTavish’s comfort with the other. A hand went down to her jeans pocket, searching for a tissue—and found nothing.

‘Don’t touch me,’ she whispered again.

‘I won’t.’

Mike had seen the searching hand, though. Without comment, he handed her a large, man’s handkerchief and then stood back watching—as one would watch a strange, unknown creature one didn’t know how the heck to deal with.

Erin accepted the handkerchief with real gratitude. She blew her nose hard and glared—and, to her disgust, found Mike McTavish was smiling.

‘A good blow always makes you feel better.’ Then, as Erin looked helplessly down at the handkerchief, his grin deepened.

‘You seem to accuse me of being landed gentry,’ he smiled. ‘Well, here’s a gesture for you. Keep the handkerchief. I can afford it!’

‘Th—thanks,’ she whispered, her anger disappearing and an awful grimness seeping in. She’d exposed herself with this man—and she didn’t like it one bit.

As always, when feeling her worst, Erin sought for laughter. She looked down at the damp handkerchief.

‘Are you sure you want me to keep it?’ she managed. ‘There’s three perfectly good quarters left.’

‘I’m absolutely sure.’ Mike’s smile was one of pure admiration.

Erin’s watery smile faded. If only he didn’t make her feel so...so... So like being fourteen years old all over again!

‘I’m...I’m going home now,’ she whispered. ‘Tell the twins...tell the twins they’re welcome to visit me. If they cut across the paddocks it’s a safe walk to my grandpa’s farm—but I won’t be coming back here.’

Mike nodded, as if her statement had been expected. ‘I’ll tell them.’

‘You will let them come?’ Erin found herself suddenly anxious. ‘You will let them visit?’

‘The twins can visit whoever they like,’ Mike said calmly. ‘And I’m sure they’d love to see you again.’

Implying that Mike McTavish wouldn’t, Erin thought bleakly. Erin could hear that decision clearly in his voice.

‘Fine.’ Erin practised her glare one last time, even if her glare was still watery. Mike’s dark eyes were watching her calmly now, unsmiling. ‘I’ll go...’

She turned to the door but the door was flung open before she reached it.

‘Mike...Erin, come quick...’ It was Laura, white faced with terror, bursting through the door and almost falling with the force of her entry. ‘Erin, Matthew’s on Paddy and Paddy took off down the paddock so fast I can’t catch him. And he’s taking Matthew away...’

CHAPTER FOUR

PADDY and Matthew were well away.

Mike and Erin burst through the back door as one—to find the yard empty. Paddy had been hitched to the trough. There was no Paddy and no Matthew.

‘Where...?’ Mike gazed round, fast. There was no sign of boy or horse.

‘Paddy wanted something to eat,’ Laura faltered. ‘At least, we thought he did. So me and Matt took him over into the wheat paddock—just to give him a taste...’

‘The wheat paddock...’ Mike was already starting to run, his big hand gripping Laura’s. Erin ran too, unsure of where they were going but darned if she was being left behind. ‘Laura, you did say Matt was on the horse?’ Mike demanded. They were halfway across the yard, Laura being half carried by the speed of Mike’s run.

‘Matt wanted to get up on Paddy’s back,’ Laura sobbed, breathless from running. ‘So we held Paddy near the gate and Matt climbed on. And Matt said “Giddyup” and Paddy did. They rode all the way up the paddock and Paddy was going really, really fast and Matt yelled “stop” but Paddy didn’t...’

Neither did Mike. He ditched Laura’s hand and his long legs left both Erin and Laura behind. By the time Erin reached the gate behind the house, Mike was already through, shading his eyes and trying desperately to see across the sea of wheat.