Reunited at The Altar

‘Not talk for a little while,’ he agreed. ‘But I want to be with you.’

Walking in the sheer beauty of the gardens helped to clear her head. Maybe his, too, because finally he tightened his fingers round hers. ‘I’m sorry.’ He grimaced. ‘I seem to be saying that a lot, today.’

‘Maybe we need to put it all behind us,’ she said. ‘We can’t change the past,’ she said. ‘But know that not all of it was bad.’

‘Agreed.’ He looked at her. ‘Right now, I really want to kiss you. But it kind of feels—I don’t know. Insensitive. And I’m trying to be sensitive.’

‘You might be thinking too much,’ she said.

‘How?’

‘This,’ she said, and reached up to kiss him. ‘That’s better.’

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. ‘You’re right. Much better. So here’s the plan. I take you somewhere nice for dinner, we watch the stars come out over the sea—and then, if I’m not being too pushy, I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.’

‘That,’ she said, ‘sounds like an excellent plan.’

CHAPTER TEN

BRAD STAYED WITH Abigail at the cottage that night, and it was good to wake in his arms. To wake and make love—except, when she got out of the shower, she realised that she was going to be late for work.

‘I know I’m the boss, so technically speaking I can walk in any time I choose, but I need to set an example,’ she said. ‘I don’t want anyone to think I’m slacking off.’

‘Nobody thinks you’re slacking off. I’ll drive you in,’ he said.

In the end, she was only ten minutes late, though it was enough to fill her with guilt.

He kissed her lightly. ‘Go. I need to get back to the hotel, pack and check out. I’ll see you at seven and I’ll book a table somewhere tonight for dinner.’

‘See you at seven,’ she echoed.

But when Abigail walked into the café and smelled the bacon grilling, the scent made her feel queasy.

Maybe it was something she’d eaten at dinner last night. Something that hadn’t agreed with her.

When her usual mid-morning mug of coffee made her stomach turn as well, to the point where she couldn’t even take a mouthful of the stuff, she started to wonder. Was she being paranoid, or was she...?

She did a quick mental calculation and realised that her period was late. It should have started a week ago.

Panic skittered through her. Had they even used a condom, that first night—the night of Ruby’s wedding? They’d definitely used protection since then, but that first time... Her mind was horrifyingly blank on the subject. She’d been so swept away by Brad that she couldn’t think straight. She simply couldn’t remember.

Could she really be pregnant? The dates would tie in. Friends who’d had a baby had talked about a super-enhanced sense of smell in the very early days of pregnancy and feeling sick, being tired, going off coffee, and their breasts feeling tender. And every one of those symptoms applied to her right now. She’d felt sick at the smell of cooking bacon, she didn’t want coffee, and her bra felt too tight...

She pushed the thought away. How utterly ridiculous. The nausea could be anything, and not fancying coffee could be down to that too; she was tired because she was still putting in all the hours at work and seeing Brad every night; the tightness of her bra was purely psychosomatic because now she was half convinced that she was pregnant; and the date of her period was probably a bit off kilter because her emotions had been turned upside down over the last couple of weeks. The dates had nothing to do with it. Of course she wasn’t pregnant.

But the thought kept nagging at her, along with the fact they’d seen those magpies in the woods the other day. Three for a girl, four for a boy... For pity’s sake, it was just an old superstition. She wasn’t pregnant.

By mid-morning, Abigail had had enough. There was only one way to find out the truth.

It was her admin day in the office at the café, so if she went out for a bit it wouldn’t cause any problems with the staff at the counter. She made an excuse that she needed to go and see a supplier, and walked back to her cottage to pick up the car. She could’ve gone to the pharmacy in town or even the supermarket, but everyone knew her in Great Crowmell and she didn’t want even the faintest bit of gossip to start. Instead, she drove to a supermarket in one of the bigger market towns where nobody knew her and bought a pregnancy test kit. A digital one, so there would be no margin of error.