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‘Not yet. It will be my wedding gift to him.’ Fleur grinned and put a finger to her lips.
The hurriedly pulled-together shotgun wedding – not that Tom knew – was over in a few minutes and suddenly they were being urged to share their first kiss as Mr and Mrs Catchlove.
Old tins had been tied to the cart that Tom had driven into town and, with some stores thrown into the back of it, they set off for Witchelina Station, half the town waving them off with catcalls and cheers.
Privately, Fleur thought that she couldn’t have planned a more perfect wedding. Brief, painless, almost no socialising and back in Tom’s arms in less than an hour since she’d clambered into a borrowed dress.
Fleur snuggled up to Tom, holding his arm tightly.
He grinned. ‘You meant it, didn’t you? You’re not letting me go.’ He kissed the top of her head.
‘Tom, there are things to be spoken about.’
‘I know. But can we talk about them later?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I want you to know that I did not send that letter.’
He stayed quiet for a few breathless moments and then nodded. ‘Irma?’
‘Yes. I can show you how different my handwriting is.’
He shook his head with disgust. ‘Why didn’t I guess that?’
‘Why would you?’
‘Because you left me so in love . . . I should have trusted your love and how honest you are.’
‘Perhaps you should have, but I’m well aware of how cunning Irma can be. I imagine she was extremely convincing.’
‘It even sounded like you when I read it, Fleur.’
‘So I don’t blame you.’
He hugged her tighter. ‘I’m glad you came after me. Blimey, Fleur, you could have missed me by a whisker.’
‘I thought I had. I could kiss that lame horse of yours.’
‘She’s called Ginger.’
‘Will she be all right?’
‘Yes, with the right care, but I couldn’t risk taking her further.’
Fleur nodded gratefully. ‘Listen, Tom. While Irma told a raft of lies in that letter, she did manage to stumble upon the truth of one aspect.’
He glanced at her. ‘Which is?’
‘That I’m pregnant, Tom. But I’m having your baby.’
He hauled on the reins and the wagon juddered to a halt. He stared at her, up and down, his gaze helplessly returning to her belly. She realised she had once again placed a protective hand across it. ‘Mine?’
She nodded, tears welling. ‘I’ve never slept with anyone but you, Tom. You must have sensed that, surely?’
‘I don’t know why I allowed myself to believe you would let anyone like Jimmy Coglin get that close.’
‘Ugh,’ she said, giving a shudder. ‘Perish that thought.’
‘We’re having a baby?’ Tom asked again and she nodded, matching his loony grin. He stood, still holding the reins, and let rip with a howl that echoed across the landscape. ‘I’m going to be a father!’ he yelled.
