His Miracle Bride. Marion Lennox

in a car.

      It wasn’t like this was a closed-in car. His cute little sports coupé—a bright yellow MX5 he loved almost more than life itself—was open to the sun. It was a gorgeous spring day. He’d be able to watch Bessy though the window of the pharmacy as he dived in and grabbed the prescription.

      But there were ten prescriptions before him.

      ‘It’ll be twenty minutes,’ the pharmacist said, and Pierce almost groaned.

      ‘I’ve got kids at home and the baby in the car.’

      ‘Don’t leave your child in the car.’

      ‘Look, can you fast track…?’

      ‘Twenty minutes.’

      ‘Fine.’ He sighed. He couldn’t slug everyone in this town even if it was starting to feel like everyone was conspiring against him. ‘I’ll sit in the car and wait.’

      He tried to stalk out, but his legs were too tired to stalk. As he walked past the window on the way out he caught a look at himself in its reflective glass.

      He hadn’t shaved for two days. He’d slept in these clothes.

      He looked like death. A little old lady entering the pharmacy gave him a wide berth, and he didn’t blame her.

      He slid into the driver’s seat of his cool little car. Beside him, Bessy was still soundly asleep.

      ‘Twenty minutes, Bess,’ he said, but she didn’t stir.

      He empathized. He sighed. He closed his eyes.

      The warm spring sun was a balm all by itself. It was quiet. So quiet.

      Twenty minutes.

      He could just fold his arms on his steering wheel and let his head droop.

      It was so warm….

      ‘How long did you say your dad would be?’

      ‘He said an hour. The appointment was for half past ten.’

      ‘It’s now well after eleven. Shouldn’t he be back by now?’ Shanni said cautiously.

      ‘Yes,’ Wendy said, and her bottom lip trembled. Just a bit. She caught herself almost before the telltale quiver happened, but Shanni had seen.

      She felt like quivering herself.

      Uh-oh.

      She was only staying here until Pierce got home, she told herself. Then she was out of here fast. But these kids were starting to look more scared than she was. She couldn’t leave them. Nor could she sit round in this appalling mess worrying about where Pierce was.

      They were all staring at her, and Wendy’s poorly disguised quiver was reflected on each of their faces.

      They’d lost their mum. Pierce was late.

      Their world wasn’t as stable as they might like.

      ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll ring the doctor’s surgery, shall I?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Wendy, sounding relieved.

      So she rang. Yes, he’d been at the doctor’s surgery.

      ‘He has to collect a prescription before he goes home,’ the receptionist told her. ‘And he’s probably taken the opportunity to go shopping. Has he left those poor children by themselves?’

      There was enough censure in her tone to make Shanni back off.

      ‘No. They’re with me.’

      ‘If there’s a problem…’

      ‘Why would there be a problem?’

      ‘The child welfare people aren’t all that happy about the way he’s coping.’

      Her voice was loud enough for Wendy, clinging to Shanni’s side, to hear.

      ‘Tell her we’re coping fine,’ Wendy said, her face flushing. ‘Yeah, Dad’ll just be shopping. We’re okay.’

      ‘We’re okay,’ Shanni said, and put the phone down.

      ‘They want to take us away from Dad,’ Wendy said.

      Maybe they, whoever they were, had grounds.

      But meanwhile…She could hardly phone the police and report Pierce missing. Not yet. She’d give him a bit of leeway.

      But there was still fear on four little faces.

      ‘There’s no earthly use looking like that,’ she told them, mentally rolling up her sleeves, girding her loins, doing whatever a girl had to do before launching into battle. ‘If you’re worried about child welfare, then we need to show them we’re coping.’

      ‘How are we coping?’ Wendy asked.

      ‘By cleaning.’ She stared at the mound of dishes. ‘First thing first. This is a big job, so we need a major battle plan. I’ll chop enough wood to light the fire and get some hot water. Lots of hot water. A sink isn’t going to cut it. Let’s fill the bath. Donald, can you find us a pile of clean towels? The rest of you carry every dirty dish—except the knives, we’ll leave the knives for me—into the bathroom. Boys wash and girls dry. I want the whole bathroom filled with clean plates, so clean they sparkle. I’ll clean in here, and then we’ll bring the clean things back in.’

      ‘We can’t,’ Donald said. ‘We’re not old enough to wash dishes. Only Wendy.’

      ‘Nonsense,’ Shanni said with a lot more briskness than she felt. ‘Big doesn’t mean clever. Take your boots and socks off so if you get wet it doesn’t matter. Washing in the bath is fun. Do you have a sound system—for music?’

      ‘P…Dad has one,’ Wendy said. ‘He’s got lots of CDs.’

      ‘Then let’s put on a bouncy work CD,’ she said. ‘Something like Abba. Do you know Dancing Queen?’

      ‘Yes,’ Abby said, her eyes lighting up. ‘Our Mummy liked Abba. That’s why she called me Abby.’

      ‘Then we’ll put on Abba.’

      ‘I don’t know whether Dad’s got Abba,’ said Wendy.

      Huh?

      No matter. Questions could wait.

      ‘Let’s look then, shall we?’ Shanni said, sounding a lot more decisive than she felt. ‘Cos this house looks like it needs about a hundred Abba CDs to lick it into shape.’

      At four o’clock the sun slipped behind the Craggyburn Post Office clock tower and Pierce and Bessy lost their sunshine.

      Bessy woke first. She wiggled in her car seat, reached across to Pierce, put her pudgy hand into his mess of unkempt brown curls and pulled.

      Pierce woke like he’d been shot.

      ‘Mmmphf,’ Bessy said in deep satisfaction at the results of one small tug.

      ‘Bess,’ Pierce said, coming to and trying to stop his eyes watering. ‘Boy, you don’t know your own strength.’

      He winced and rubbed his head. He stirred and he stretched.

      He gazed sleepily up to the clock tower.

      The world stilled.

      Surely he hadn’t. Surely…

      Oh, God, he had. He’d been away for over five hours. Almost six.

      He reached for the ignition, his fingers fumbling in haste. A woman from the pharmacy was restocking shelves in the window. She saw him backing out of the parking space, and she waved to him frantically to stop.

      He paused and she came to the door.

      ‘Your prescription’s filled,’ she called. ‘We wondered when you’d wake up. You should be