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‘What do you want me to do?’
Grace straightened with a pained grimace. Becca could almost hear her spine clicking into rigidity.
‘Don’t force Morgan into making decisions he doesn’t want or need. If you live there with him, he’ll eventually take notice of gossip and want to put it right.’
‘I can say no, Grace. You know I can.’
‘His health still isn’t one hundred percent. Stress isn’t good for him.’
Becca gathered her purse and jumper together. ‘I can’t promise anything. I will talk to Morgan about alternatives. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m sorry if my presence in your life is painful, but you more than anyone know my decisions have always been about what is best for my children. Apart from one time when I allowed you to overrule me.’
As she walked across the paddock to Morgan’s place, she focused on what she needed to say to him. She wouldn’t be sharing the revelations about the past. Grace hadn’t asked her to keep silent. She’d known it was unnecessary. They both knew how to keep secrets.
Chapter 12
Morgan’s heart jolted at the sight of Becca in his bedroom. He’d half expected her but hadn’t heard her arrive with his head under the old-fashioned shower with its noisy pipes.
She didn’t move, her gaze fixed on the view from the window, arms wrapped around her waist, signalling her vulnerability. His bare feet on the polished timber floors hadn’t been enough to alert her to his presence.
In a grey sweater and trackpants, she’d be feeling warm in the well-heated room. He knew what she was seeing from the easterly facing window. His whole family history was laid out in the view. Once upon a time the Maiden family owned the whole valley, this side of the river. Another branch owned the other side of town where the Smith’s grazed their sheep.
Drought and a financial downturn in the 1890s brought on the first breakup of this property. A large swathe of land butting up against the mountains that went to the Harmsworth’s and the Fleming’s who later split part of their holdings with the Wilcott’s. The first world war had taken Maiden senior and his three eldest sons leaving only a ten-year-old boy and his sisters. They’d sold a decent-sized parcel to the Taite family and a good part of the remaining land went to Ned Cavanaugh’s grandfather when he married the youngest Maiden daughter. The French born Durand’s took over the stretch on the town side of the Maiden homestead block around the same time, running cattle. It had left this small block of about thirty acres between the larger properties, most of it running back into the hills towards the national park.
The end of the second world war had seen the last sell off, the five-acre allotments along the river taken up by returned soldiers trying to scrape a living with market gardens utilising the water access. Only Becca’s house still remained of the basic dwellings that sprouted in the post war decade. Most were sold off in acreage allotments and bulldozed to build more luxurious homes long before he’d left town. Becca’s family was the only one to hold out and her grandfather Walter’s legacy might soon be gone, funding a better future for her and her children.
This was the long, interconnected history which made his choice to go into medicine tougher than it might have been if there’d been siblings to take over from his father. The guilt had driven him for years.
‘Becca?’
She didn’t turn, hunching her shoulders further. ‘I’ve been with your mother.’
‘I suppose she didn’t have anything positive to say.’ His own confrontation with her hadn’t been sweetness and light. The only positive thing was this time she hadn’t overtly said anything against Becca. She was learning.
Becca huffed. ‘Let’s just say she doesn’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘It’s not up to her.’
‘She resents me.’
Morgan would have liked to be able to deny it, but he knew his mother well enough to believe Becca might be right. She’d always had a thing about Becca’s family. ‘It’s not her life.’
‘Isn’t it? She indicated quite clearly she’d rather see you marry anyone but me.’
‘Marriage?’ He sucked in a breath against the tightness in his chest. ‘I didn’t say anything about marriage.’
‘I reminded her of what you said. She thinks if we live together, local opinion will force you into it.’
He edged further into the room, adjusting the bath sheet covering him from waist to calf. He eyed off the wardrobe where his clean clothes waited. ‘Does it bother you? That people might talk?’
‘People always talk. Only people like your mother and Beryl Harmsworth give a stuff about couples living together. I’ve talked to Gabby and Edward. They think it’s a great idea. Of course.’ There was an amused tone in her voice. At least his mother hadn’t totally squashed Becca into submission.
‘What do you think?’
‘It’s the best thing for the children. That’s what counts. I don’t want to upset your mother, but her hang-ups aren’t my responsibility.’
He wondered what hang-ups his mother had revealed. ‘I know she’s overprotective. She’s had good reasons to worry.’
Becca turned then, her eyes widening. ‘Because of your health?’
