The Mirrabrook Marriage

Horrified, he sank on to the back step and stared out into the silent bush. Clouds drifted across a new moon, a thin fingernail of silver, and above the ragged black silhouette of gumtrees the night sky gleamed a cool gunmetal grey. Down by the creek a curlew called a long mournful lament.

And Reid wrestled with his despair.

The inevitable day had arrived. The day he’d been expecting and dreading. The day Sarah reached the end of her patience. Very soon she would want to end their friendship completely. And she had every right to do so. For her own sake, she should have done it long ago.

But, God help him, how could he bear to lose her?

To his horror, he felt his lips tremble. Tears threatened. He shook himself, trying to get a grip, but he felt as lost and wretched now as he had when this nightmare situation had first begun, when he’d been forced to abdicate his role as her lover.

It had damn near killed him to hurt the woman he loved, but in the black days after his father died everything in his world had turned upside-down. It had been the worst, the very worst time of his life—his dark night of the soul.

As he sat in the dark now, Reid wished as he’d wished so many times in the past six years that he could turn to Cob McKinnon for advice. The man had been so much more than simply his father. Reid had looked up to Cob as his hero and he’d loved him as a very special friend. They’d been best mates.

Cob had been a strong man, a tough Scot moulded even tougher by the unforgiving Australian outback. Among the cattlemen in the Star Valley he had been admired as a leader and Reid had grown up idolising him.

No one in his family had realised quite how devastated Reid was when Cob McKinnon died suddenly.

Reid had been away on a muster in the back country and when word came through that his father was gravely ill he’d made a reckless dash for home, riding hard through the night, but he’d been too late.

The worst of it had been that he couldn’t give way to the pain that ravaged him; his family had needed him to be strong. His mother had turned to him for help to organize the funeral and to deal with the solicitors and the will.

And Annie and Kane had looked to him for strength too. Although he and Kane were twins, his brother had always deferred to Reid’s leadership. And so a huge burden had seemed to fall on him at the very moment he most longed for his father’s guidance.

Somehow he had got through it.

But then, things had got worse.

One evening, about a week after his father’s funeral, his mother had found him sitting out here on this veranda.

Everything from that night was etched into Reid’s brain. He could remember each detail—the oppressive heat that had been building all day; the storm threatening but never quite breaking; the smell of his mother’s favourite tea rose oil, cloying on such a hot night; the creak of the old timber floorboards as she crossed the veranda to stand beside him.

‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.

‘No, of course not.’ He jumped up and offered her the more comfortable squatter’s chair while he dragged a cane chair closer for himself.

Once she was settled, she said, ‘There’s something I need to explain to you, Reid.’ She paused, as if it was difficult to continue. ‘Cob was hoping to talk to you before he died. Poor man, he tried to hang on. He was most anxious to tell you this. But he—he ran out of time.’

Reid thought his father had wanted to explain how their cattle business was to be organised now—whether he and Kane would be entrusted with the running of it, or whether Cob had wanted to appoint a manager from outside the family.

But when Jessie paused again, for an even longer time, he felt a twinge of anxiety. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped together, her head bowed.

Good Lord, was she praying?

Alarm tightened his guts. ‘Mum, are you okay?’

‘Not really.’ She stared straight ahead. ‘Oh heavens, Reid, I’m so sorry. We should have told you this years ago.’

‘Told me what?’

He stared at her and saw the tension in her profile—her tightly drawn in mouth, her hunched body. ‘For God’s sake, Mum, what is it?’

‘It’s—about when you were born.’

The blast of shock hit him in the face as surely as if he’d received a king hit. His heart lurched painfully. Fine hairs rose on the back of his neck. What the hell was this about? His mind raced, trying to drum up possibilities, when Jessie spoke again.

She shifted uneasily. ‘I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that my sister Flora and I both lived in Mirrabrook before I was married. We worked in the bank and we had a little house in town.’

He nodded, wanting to yell at her to stop beating about the bush. Get on with it. What happened when I was born?

She sighed. ‘As you know, I fell pregnant very soon after I was married.’

‘Yeah. With twins. Kane and me.’

‘No, darling.’ Her voice was excessively careful.

Reid stared at her.

‘I wasn’t carrying twins.’

Oh, God, Mum, no.

In the moonlight her distressed face gleamed whitely. For the first time in his life he wanted to shake her.

‘What are you saying?’

As if she hadn’t heard him, or because she couldn’t stop now, Jessie hurried on. ‘Flora went away to Brisbane soon after I was married and she didn’t come back until I was almost ready to give birth. When she did, she brought a little baby with her.’

‘No.’ Reid collapsed forward, clasping his head in his hands. This was crazy, like some kind of stupid daytime soap opera. He knew what was coming as surely as if he’d written the script. Jerking his head upright again, he dragged in a huge gulping breath. ‘You’re telling me I was the baby, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, dear.’

Oh, God. His parents weren’t his parents. This was worse than anything he could have imagined. An awful sense of alienation descended. He felt cut off from the woman beside him. He stared at his hands as if he’d never seen them before. Who the hell was he?

How was a man supposed to come to grips with this kind of news. Why now? Why hadn’t Cob and Jessie told him this when he was little? Couldn’t they have fed him that stuff people dole out to adopted kids about what a special guy he was and how they picked him out because they loved him? At least he would have known all along that he wasn’t theirs.

Hell, his whole life had been a lie. As a kid he’d conned himself into thinking he looked like his father. And he and Kane had spent their whole lives thinking they were twins.

The fact that he wasn’t even a McKinnon was more than he could bear.

He rounded on Jessie. ‘Why did you leave it so damn long to tell me?’

‘We—I was worried that you would want to ask too many questions.’

‘Sure as hell I have questions. Starting with how did I end up here? With you?’ He hurled the question at her and the venom injected into ‘you’ was intentional. He was angry. Bloody angry. He wanted to lash out.

Her hand fluttered to her mouth and she pressed it against her lips as if she wished she could keep them closed for ever. ‘Poor Flora was in a terrible state, Reid, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and she begged me to take her baby.’

Poor Flora…He didn’t want another mother. He most definitely didn’t want her to be the Aunt Flora he’d visited briefly in Scotland during his year abroad. His time with her had been uncomfortably brief and strained and he’d come away with the distinct impression that she’d resented his intrusion into her life. ‘What was the matter with poor Flora?’

Jessie’s response was a sharp intake of breath.

Reid glared at her without sympathy. ‘You’d better tell me. You’ve done enough damage keeping these choice bits of news to yourself for so long. No need to spare me now. I want the lot.’

‘You won’t like it, Reid.’

‘Don’t let that stop you.’

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