Chapter Six #3
Ella’s heart thudded, then he reached out and trailed the back of his hand against her cheek and she felt a tide of shameless response wash through her. It was almost too much to turn away and not keen towards that warm hand and lose herself in its comforting touch.
She exited the car at speed and then took a deep breath before she inserted her key into the lock and let herself through the front door.
Rocco watched as she vanished through the door and shut it firmly behind her.
Around him, the snow continued to fall gently, insistently.
Away from the glittering Christmas lights strung from lamp post to lamp post in the town, out here felt quiet and remote.
The house was a stone structure, sprawling in a U-shape that enfolded the courtyard where he was parked.
Around it, open fields stretched through the gathering twilight in magnificent isolation.
Comfort zones had long been left behind.
He was dealing with a situation for which nothing had prepared him but in truth, looking back, he felt that comfort zones had been dumped the minute he had met her.
It was a relief that her explanations to her father had been perfunctory.
That said, facing her father was something he would be able to deal with.
She was the one who made his stomach twist with nerves because he didn’t know where he stood with her.
Because, for the first time in his life, getting what he wanted wasn’t going to be a straightforward exercise and the stakes were the highest he could ever have imagined.
His parents would have to be told immediately and there could be no question that he wouldn’t marry the mother of his child.
He was absently staring at the door when it opened and there she was, framed in the doorway. For a few seconds, the breath was sucked out of him. She was so small, so slender, and yet right now she was singularly the most powerful person in his world.
He leapt out of the car and strode towards her. ‘Ready?’ he murmured, looking down at her.
She flashed him a look that was a mixture of defiance and anxiety and he recalled the sensation of her soft skin under his fingers when he had touched her cheek. The surge of physical awareness that had jolted through him.
He also recalled the fleeting but powerful acknowledgement that she had responded to that touch in a way she might not have found entirely unwelcome.
He’d felt her body come alive, just for a moment, had felt the sudden softness in her and had known, on some level, that she wanted him.
Desire was a difficult beast to control.
He looked at her with lazy speculation.
‘Just don’t say much. I’ve told him that you got in touch and…’
‘And? Since he’s under the impression that you’re crazy about me, are we on course for a grand, romantic reunion?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because anything between us is over and done with. You know why. I don’t have to keep going into it.’
‘So the part I play is…?’
‘We’re friends.’
‘Lovers to friends,’ Rocco mused. ‘I always thought it went in the opposite direction—friends to lovers.’
‘Not this time.’
She uneasily remembered what she had told her father—that she’d fallen for a guy before acknowledging that they lived in different worlds, worlds that would never be destined to meet.
She hoped nothing she had said would come back to bite her.
Fortunately for her, her dad wasn’t the sort to launch into animated conversation about anything.
He would eye Rocco suspiciously, would be tight-lipped and unwelcoming and she would lead the way in dispelling any notion that Rocco was anything but someone who would have no place in her future aside from fulfilling the duties of fatherhood.
All Rocco had to do was go along with everything she said and keep contributions to the conversation to a minimum.
She could only hope that he wouldn’t be a wild card.
As Rocco looked around him with curious eyes, what he saw was an old house, unrenovated but sturdy, built of concrete and stone, with thick walls and furnishings that were old and tired.
Scott Campbell, weathered from a life spent outdoors, was proud and silent, in his mid-sixties at most, who looked much older than his years.
Rocco liked him on sight. He could deal with this man. He would enjoy it, in fact.
His handshake, as he was introduced, matched his host’s in firmness. He smiled a warm, engaging, encouraging smile. At the same time, he paid utterly no attention to Ella’s slight body suddenly stiffening by his side.
‘Mr Campbell. I can’t tell you how honoured I am to meet you and how pleased.
’ He lowered his voice and bent the few inches that brought him face to face with the bright blue, narrowed eyes focused on him.
By the end of the evening, he intended to wipe out every scrap of wariness and suspicion.
He might be cast in the role of lover turned friend but, by hook or by crook, the distinction would soon become pleasantly blurry.
He clasped the leathery hand warmly between both of his and smiled. ‘Circumstances may have taken me away prematurely from your enchanting daughter, sir, but I assure you that I will not fail when it comes to fulfilling my duties supporting her in these…unexpected but very happy times…’
He sensed rather than saw the wiry body relax.
Not much, but enough to encourage him. ‘But I’m sure there will be ample time to discuss everything with you on that subject, to reassure you that your daughter will be supported one hundred percent by me.
In the meantime… I’ve always had an interest in farming.
I would consider myself privileged to hear everything about your farm.
Who knows?’ He chuckled. ‘I might find there’s a farmer lurking inside me somewhere… ’
Rocco was invited to stay the night. Separate rooms, of course, as they were now just friends, but still…
Several hours later, Ella was still reeling from Rocco’s charm offensive. He’d laid it on thick. Her taciturn father, known to happily spend an evening without uttering much more than a couple of sentences, had been downright loquacious.
Did Rocco actually know anything about farm equipment?
Differences between agricultural tractors and regular tractors?
What fertilizers were best for different crops?
Weather patterns and harvesting? It seemed that he did and, what he didn’t, he’d been keen to find out with the sort of phoney zeal that made her head spin.
He’d politely refused the offer of a bed but not until her father had been one hundred percent won over. When she’d made the mistake of yawning, her father had actually told her that she should go get some rest and that he’d see Rocco out!
On the spur of the moment, Ella dialled the mobile number that she now had, the very number she had previously been denied when she’d been the disposable woman he’d had a fling with.
‘What do you think you’re playing at?’
‘Ella?’
‘Of course it’s me! Who else is it going to be? Do you have women ringing you all hours? And what were you doing earlier? Didn’t I tell you to leave all the talking to me?’
Dressed in thick flannel pyjamas she’d had since she’d been a teenager, Ella slid off the bed, scowling, and strolled towards the chair by the window.
When she parted the curtains, she peered out into a dark wilderness with a light dusting of snow covering the fields that stretched out into infinity.
Christmas was everywhere…except here. It hadn’t really been here since her mother had died, even though some effort had been made for the past two Christmases.
The back should have been ablaze with lights, and downstairs the tree should have been up and the stockings hung.
She let the curtain drop and tucked her knees up to her chest.
‘I don’t encourage women to ring me all hours, now that you mention it, and definitely not now that I’m a taken man.’
‘You’re not a taken man. I told you not to do any talking.’
‘I really like your father. Clever man. We had an informative chat after you left about how he could think of diversifying to make the most of his land. Apologies if I didn’t use the playbook you laid out.’
‘You’re not sorry at all.’
‘You’re right. I’m beginning to admire how well you read me.’
‘As long as you left it with us just being friends.’
‘As opposed to what?’
‘As opposed to…to…’
‘I won’t lie when I tell you that marriage is the best option for us, Ella. Especially meeting your father… Family life on both sides, although it’s fair to say my experience of family is wildly different to yours. He misses your mother.’
It took a couple of seconds for Ella to register the change of topic.
‘Sorry?’
‘Louise—your mother. He misses her every day. Especially at this time of year.’
‘What are you talking about? Did he tell you that?’
‘He did. Just before I left.’
Ella didn’t say anything. Her father had never shared his sorrow with her after her mother had died so suddenly. He had been stalwart and silent and she hadn’t quite known how to break through that barrier of quiet stoicism.
‘What…what did he say?’ she asked eventually. ‘He…he never talked to me about that. He was there for me but I was never sure if I was ever there for him in the same way.’
Rocco’s voice was a thoughtful murmur. ‘I think he’s a very protective dad. He didn’t want to burden you with his own feelings at such a sad time. He’s a strong, silent man who is perhaps a little hesitant when it comes to freely expressing emotion.’
Ella’s voice was ragged and distressed. ‘It’s a little upsetting to think that he shared stuff with you he felt he couldn’t share with me.’
‘Ella, you really mustn’t think that way. You must think that you’re very lucky to have a father who loves you so much and whose driving desire is to always do what he thinks is best for you.’
‘Thanks for saying that, Rocco,’ she said gruffly, because his words helped that sudden, jarring unhappiness.
‘It’s the truth. He said that this Christmas is going to be very different, special, because of…our situation. I got the feeling that this baby on the way has struck him deeply.’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Which is why I’ll be round first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘Sorry?’
‘He feels that this Christmas he would like to celebrate with a real tree instead of the silver make-do one you’ve used since your mother died—and maybe a party.’
‘What?’
‘New beginnings and all that.’
‘Rocco, you weren’t supposed to be talking about new beginnings and all that.’
‘The subject of how life will change with a baby was going to arise and I had no intention of hiding from it. At any rate, like I said, I like your father. I like the fact that he doesn’t talk much, but what he says is worth hearing.
Makes a change from most of the population.
So, if a request for a Christmas tree was made, then I’m not going to suddenly play coy and tell him that I’m not interested, because we’re supposed to be just good friends, and as such my role is to hide in a cupboard of your choosing when you point to it.
So the upshot is, I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning and we can go and choose a tree. ’
‘Wait, don’t you hate Christmas?’
‘“Hate” is a strong word.’
‘But you’re willing to go tree hunting for my dad?’
‘I’m not the ogre you think I am and more than that…’
She heard the smile in his voice but the undertone remained deadly serious. ‘What…?’
‘More than that, I’m willing to go beyond the extra mile because this is a situation that demands it. Think about that, Ella. Can you say the same for yourself?’