The Bridesmaid's Baby by Barbara Hannay Page A

and over.
    ‘What’s happened?’ Will’s question was tentative, careful.
    Fighting tears, Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I followed the instructions to the letter.’ Snatching up oven gloves, she took out the heavy lasagne pan.
    Stupidly, she’d been picturing Will’s admiration. ‘It’s disgusting,’ she wailed.
    ‘It’ll probably taste fine,’ he said gallantly as she dumped the hot dish onto a table mat.
    Lucy wanted to howl. ‘I’m sorry, Will.’ Unwilling to meet his gaze, she retrieved the dreadful looking custard and set it out of sight on the bench, beneath a tea towel. ‘They’ve opened a pizza place in town. I think I’d better run in there.’
    ‘This food will be fine,’ he insisted again.
    Hands on hips, she shook her head and glared at the stove. ‘I can’t believe I spent so much money on a brand-new oven and I still made a hash of the meal.’
    ‘It might be a matter of getting used to the settings.’ He bent closer to look at the stove’s knobs.
    Lucy followed his gaze and squinted at the little symbols. Now that she took a closer look, she saw that a tiny wriggly line on one knob differentiated it from its neighbour.
    She swore softly. ‘I think I turned the wrong knob. Damn! I’ve been trying to grill the food instead of baking it.’
    She’d been too distracted. That was her problem. She’d kept thinking about the reason for this dinner and a moment’s loss of concentration was all it had taken to ruin her efforts.
    Will’s grey eyes twinkled, however, and he looked as if he was trying very hard not to laugh.
    To Lucy’s surprise, she began to giggle. She’d been so tense about this evening, so desperate for everything to beperfect and now, when she had to try to cover her disappointment, she could only giggle.
    It was that or cry, and she wasn’t going to cry.
    Will flung his arm around her shoulders in a friendly cheer-up hug, and her giggling stopped as if he’d turned off a switch.
    ‘Right,’ she said breathlessly as she struggled for composure. ‘If we’re going to try to eat this, I’d better set the table.’
    Will opened a long-necked bottle with a fancy label and poured dark ruby-red wine into their glasses. Lucy took the salad she’d prepared from the fridge. At least it still looked fresh and crisp. She removed the plastic film, added dressing and tossed it. She found a large knife and cut the lasagne and was surprised that it cut easily, neatly keeping its shape. That was something, at any rate.
    ‘I told you this would taste good,’ Will said after his first mouthful.
    To Lucy’s surprise, he was right. The lasagne’s texture might have been a bit too dry, but it hadn’t actually burned and the herbs and meat had blended into a tasty combination. She sipped the deep rich wine and ate a little more and she began to relax. Just a little.
    ‘Have you rescued any more pythons?’
    She shook her head. ‘The only wildlife I’ve cared for this week is a galah with a broken wing. But I discovered who dropped the python off. It was one of the schoolteachers. Apparently, he accidentally clipped him with his ride-on mower. He’s going to care for him for another week or so, then let him go again in the trees down near the creek.’
    They talked a little more about Lucy’s work, including the good news that the footrot hadn’t spread to any more sheep farms.
    ‘What have you been up to?’ she asked. ‘I hear you’ve been lending a hand with drenching.’
    He sent her a wry smile. ‘News travels fast.’
    ‘I saw your father in town the other day and he was so excited. He said you haven’t lost the knack.’
    Will shrugged.
    ‘I told you you’re a natural with animals.’
    ‘Are you trying to turn me into a farmer, too?’
    She didn’t want to upset him, so she tried another topic. ‘Have you started job-hunting?’
    Over the rim of his wine glass his eyes regarded her steadily, almost with a challenge. ‘I’m going for an