Sarah's Baby by Margaret Way Read Free Book Online Page A

If you truly love my grandson, you’ll recognize that this pregnancy has the potential to destroy his life. God almighty, girl, he’s only sixteen! Do you think I’m going to allow him to waste his life on someone like you? You’re fortunate you haven’t told him your little secret, or God knows what I’d do.”
    Sarah hadn’t doubted then, nor did she now, that Ruth McQueen would have taken drastic steps to shut her up. But basically it had come down to one thing. She did love Kyall. His happiness was very important to her. She’d never seen them in terms of a committed relationship; their backgrounds were too far removed. She’d accepted what Ruth McQueen and to a certain extent her own mother had told her. Exquisitely painful as it was, it would be better for her, for her baby and for Kyall if the child was adopted out to a suitable young couple who would give it a good, loving home.
    She remembered how frightened her mother had been of Ruth McQueen. “Everyone is, my angel. She’s done some terrible things to people in business. Her own son was forced to leave. She simply doesn’t have it in her to love anyone. Except Kyall. This is a real crisis, my angel. I have no money. Nowhere else to go. No husband anymore. I know it’s dreadful to accept what she’s offering, but she proposes to look after us if we do what she says.”
    So the answer, although it was terrible and not what she wanted, was very clear. She was to go away and put her baby up for adoption. Afterward, as though nothing monumental had happened, she could resume her education, one important difference being that she’d never go back to the town but be enrolled in an excellent girls’ boarding school.
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    N OTHING HAD PREPARED HER or would ever prepare her for the sight of Kyall. She thought she gave a stricken gasp, but in fact she hadn’t made a sound. She stood outside thechurch, flanked and supported by Harriet and Joe, surrounded by people of the town, the mourners, as her mother’s casket slid into the hearse and then began its final journey to the funeral home on the outskirts of town. It had been decided that she would attend her mother’s wake first before the cremation. Harriet and her mother’s best friend, Cheryl Morgan, would accompany her.
    There was something eerie about seeing Ruth McQueen again. She had aged. Lost height and weight. Never a tall woman, she’d always had such an imperious manner she’d managed to overcome her lack of inches. From this distance—and Sarah hoped she’d keep it—Ruth McQueen looked almost frail. Wonder of wonders! Hard to believe that, but she still had the incredible aura of glamour her daughter Enid, though a handsome woman, totally lacked. Both women were dressed in black from top to toe—a lot of people weren’t—but the McQueens always did things by the book. Kyall’s father, Max, a tall, handsome man with lovely manners, glanced in her direction. He lifted his hand and smiled, somehow indicating that he’d see her at the house.
    The McQueen women had already turned away as Kyall cleared a path for them to the old, meticulously maintained Rolls Ruth McQueen kept for her dignified entries into town. What was more of a surprise—but then again, perhaps not—was the presence of India Claydon of Marjimba Station, who now stood beside Kyall, suggesting she was a young woman of some significance in his and his family’s life. India did not look in Sarah’s direction. Her concern was solely with supporting the McQueen family, as though they were the chief mourners.
    India, a tall, athletic young woman with a long fall of glossy brown hair and bright blue eyes, appeared cool and elegant even in the heat of the day, which had most womenwaving decorative straw fans. India Claydon was a few years younger and had never been a friend. India, as heiress to Marjimba Station,