Claiming His Family. Barbara Hannay

about us?’

      ‘About why we split up.’ Lowering her gaze, she traced the pattern of tapestry leaves on the upholstered arm of her chair. ‘I’m afraid he asks that question rather a lot—the same question over and over.’

      ‘Why would he need to do that?’ Luke asked sharply. ‘Haven’t you been able to give him a satisfactory answer?’

      ‘I—I believe I have. I’ve certainly done my best.’

      ‘But he keeps on asking—wanting to know why we spilt up?’

      ‘Yes. He does it partly to learn, I guess, to understand. But I think he’s also checking that the answer stays the same.’ She hurried on nervously. ‘He can ask the most difficult questions at the most inconvenient moments. It always seems to happen to me when I’m standing in the supermarket line, or when I’m dropping him off at school.’ And then, because Luke was looking at her with such clear dislike, she added, ‘Or just as I’m about to go out and my date’s standing on the doorstep.’

      Luke’s jaw stiffened and Erin felt a flicker of triumph, but then, as a dark stain tinged his neck, she almost wished she could take back that last cheap shot. She wanted her role in this meeting to be very mature, very civilised.

      Shifting his weight slightly, Luke sat a little straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Okay, so what is the answer, Erin?’ He asked this very quietly, but the question seemed to reverberate around the room. ‘What do you tell the boy about why we split up?’

      An uncomfortable pulse beat at the base of her throat. ‘I—I tell him the truth—that we weren’t able to live together.’

      ‘I see.’ He stared at her. ‘Is that all you’ve told him?’

      ‘Pretty much. I’ve been careful never to criticise you, Luke.’

      ‘Am I supposed to be grateful?’

      Her teeth ground together and she took a deep breath, trying for an impossible calm. ‘When Joey asks why we can’t be a family, I remind him about what his teacher told the class—about all the different kinds of families there are.’

      Luke frowned. ‘For example?’

      Was he being deliberately obtuse?

      ‘Come on, Luke, you know as well as I do how many single and blended families there are these days. In America there are more children in those kinds of families than there are in families with both biological parents.’

      ‘I’m sure that must be immensely reassuring for Joey.’

      Sighing loudly, Erin thumped the arm of her chair. ‘It’s a fact of life.’

      He sat very still, watching her.

      ‘The important thing to remember is that Joey needs reassurance from both of us that we love him, that we’re going to keep on loving him even though we’re separated—even though—’

      ‘Even though his parents don’t love each other,’ Luke said, finishing the sentence in a voice as dry as moon dust.

      Erin felt as if she couldn’t breathe. ‘Yes,’ she managed at last.

      There was another terrible silence while they both stared at the floor.

      ‘I suppose Joey must worry that you’ll leave him too.’

      Her head shot up. ‘No. He knows that’s impossible.’

      ‘Does he?’ Luke’s glance was sharp and hard. ‘We were a family once. Joey’s old enough to realise that you must have loved me once, but that didn’t stop you from leaving.’

      She leapt to her feet, needing to defend herself, to swipe that stony accusation from Luke’s eyes. But she was trapped by his ruthless gaze—like an escaping prisoner caught in a searchlight’s beam, her guilt exposed. ‘That’s unfair and you know it.’

      ‘It’s plain logic, Erin. You said Joey’s a smart kid. Smart kids worry. I’m just trying to see how the boy might view this.’

      ‘Okay, I’ll tell you how he views this. He loves me. I—I’ve been a good mom to him. I’ve been better than that. I’ve been great.’

      ‘I don’t think that’s in question.’

      ‘And he idolises you. I might be his mother, but you’re his hero, Luke. He’s got you on such a high pedestal you’ll need a parachute to get down.’

      Taken aback, Luke scratched the back of his neck. ‘How did that happen?’

      Erin shrugged. She was too tired and emotional to try to analyse the complexities of the absent father scenario now. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I’ve never said a word against you to Joey, and I need you to promise that you won’t tell him things that will turn him against me.’

      ‘Of course. I promise you have my word on that.’

      She blinked hard as her eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘Joey knows he’ll be going back to New York with me at the end of this holiday.’

      Luke made no comment.

      ‘And—’ She gulped; her throat had constricted over a knot of pain. ‘I’ve made it very clear to him that there’s no chance of us becoming a family again.’

      ‘I see.’ Luke stood abruptly and looked down at her from his too impressive height.

      If only she’d put shoes on. Her bare feet were sinking into the deep pile of the carpet and, beside Luke, she felt too short. ‘There’s one last thing that’s very important,’ she said.

      The line of his mouth tightened. ‘What’s that?’

      ‘I want you to promise that you’ll take really good care of Joey.’

      Unexpected fury darkened his face. ‘Of course I’ll take bloody good care of him. How can you even ask that?’

      ‘Who’s going to look after Joey while you’re off mending fences or shifting cattle?’

      ‘I’ll be with him all the time.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘My cousin is managing Warrapinya these days.’

      ‘Really? I didn’t even know you had a cousin.’

      ‘Keith and his wife used to live on a station way out the back of Lake Nash, but these days Keith looks after the running of our place, so I’ll be free to spend time with Joey.’

      Erin stared at him, shocked. Luke’s prolonged absences while he attended to the thousand and one jobs needed to run Warrapinya had been a major cause of their break-up.

      When she’d lived on Warrapinya it hadn’t mattered how many employees Luke had—jackaroos, ringers or cooks—Luke had held himself responsible. He was the boss and the boss always went mustering, was always there for the tough work, the dirty work like fencing, dam building, branding, or breaking in horses. He’d maintained that he should take on the dangerous tasks rather than a worker.

      If there was a wild scrub bull to be caught, it was the boss who led the way. Once a windmill’s blades had gone berserk in a gale and the entire top threatened to tear off. Nails, the station handyman, had been going to climb up and disconnect the sails, but Luke had insisted on attending to it.

      He’d claimed that running Warrapinya was more than a hands-on job. It was a hearts-on job.

      Now it was beyond disconcerting to hear that in five short years Luke had delegated someone else to run Warrapinya for him. Joey would have his father’s undivided attention. She should have been pleased, but instead she was fighting anger and hurt. ‘I—I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Joey,’ she said quickly.

      ‘What’s going to happen? What the hell are you talking about?’

      ‘The