CHAPTER 2.
Fraser arrived right on time carrying a bottle of non-alcoholic fruit punch and a beautiful bunch of lilies and carnations that he'd arranged himself. Technically he'd been five minutes early, but he'd taken five minutes to gather his composure before knocking on the door. Five minutes was nothing, though, compared to the hour it had taken him to decide what to wear. Eventually Dief had persuaded him that he would be overdressed for a casual dinner in his dress uniform and so he'd settled on jeans and a blue shirt.
"Oh, they're beautiful," smiled Stephanie as he handed her the flowers. "I'll find a vase. Dinner's nearly ready."
Before dinner, Stephanie showed Fraser around the house. Areas had apparently fallen into various states of disrepair after she'd left for Africa, although her father had been in the middle of organising some renovations at the time of his death. However, Stephanie now had no means to pay the contractors so they'd had to leave the work unfinished.
Fraser expressed particular concern about a dilapidated, part-glazed part-brick building that stood barely five feet away from the back wall of the house. "My Mom had this orangery built a few years before she died," Stephanie explained. "I have no idea why she thought we needed an orangery."
"The largest orangery in Europe was built for Louis XIV at the Palace of Versailles," said Fraser. He wasn't sure why he'd thought that particular fact would interest Stephanie, but he'd been desperate for something to say and small talk wasn't his strongest point.
Stephanie tried to keep a straight face, but she just couldn't manage it. "You haven't changed," she laughed.
Fraser hoped she'd meant it as a compliment.
He studied the orangery carefully. "It needs to be demolished," he told her. "The structure is unstable."
"That's what I thought," replied Stephanie. "I made a start," she continued, pointing to the back wall which had a huge hole in. "I did that the first night I was back home; I just wanted to destroy something…" she trailed off.
"Grief causes different reactions in all of us," Fraser pointed out.
Stephanie nodded. "I know I'll get through it," she said. "I got through losing Mom, but this was just so sudden and of course it hurts more that we'd fallen out at the time. The guilt is…" she trailed off as the tears welled in her eyes.
Fraser nodded. He knew exactly what she was going through. He and his father had barely spoken for months before he was killed and, ghostly visitations aside, he was never going to be able to make up for that.
They walked down to the stable block where Stephanie proudly introduced Fraser to the four horses that were in her care. Her father had loved the animals too and they had obviously been well looked after.
"The other stable block just needs some modernisation and then I can bring in some more animals," said Stephanie, stroking the nose of a dapple grey pony.
They walked back to the house for dinner. Stephanie had made a bobotie with sweet potato and beans and served it straight from the slow cooker. Fraser had never eaten an African casserole before and he thought it was delicious.
"I'll give you the recipe," Stephanie offered. "It's very simple to make. I adore African cuisine and they have so many vegan dishes; I've never eaten as well in my life as I did over there."
After dinner, Fraser and Stephanie went to sit in one of the few habitable rooms in the house. The sofa was old and tired and creaked when they sat down. Fraser noticed a row of photographs on the mantelpiece and recognised several of Stephanie as a child. She had been a pretty young girl who had grown into a beautiful woman, Fraser thought to himself, glancing across to her. He felt relaxed in her company, as if they had never been apart.
"Tomorrow is my day off," Fraser told her. "I'll return in the morning and take care of the orangery for you. It is unsafe in its current condition. It shouldn't take me long to demolish it."
"Thank you," replied Stephanie. "I could do it myself, but…"
"It's alright," Fraser held up a hand to stop her. "It's no trouble." He had no doubt at all that she was capable and he wished she didn't constantly feel the need to try to prove that to him.
"Mia's nanny will take her for a few hours," explained Stephanie. "I wish she could have her for the whole day; she seems nice, but I can't afford to pay her for that long. I found her through an agency so the rates are high, but they come highly recommended and I needed to know I could trust her with Mia."
"Of course. I understand," replied Fraser.
"I don't have a choice, I have so much to do and I just can't take care of Mia at the same time," Stephanie continued.
"It must not be easy for you," said Fraser, sympathetically.
"No! No, it's not easy at all!" exclaimed Stephanie.
Fraser was taken aback by how animated she suddenly became.
"I didn't plan this, I didn't plan any of it," she continued. "But once I'd got over the shock of finding out I was pregnant I thought I could manage. Motherhood is part of nature; except in a few rare cases, nurturing is instinctive, but…" she trailed off.
"I've seen you with Mia, your nurturing skills are in no doubt," smiled Fraser supportively.
Stephanie shrugged. Mia was nearly eight months old and while she'd been living in Africa she hadn't worried too much about her abilities as a mother, but now she was back home in Chicago, suddenly everything seemed like a huge struggle.
"If you don't mind me asking," Fraser began gingerly, but he didn't need to complete his question; Stephanie knew what he wanted to ask.
"It wasn't a serious relationship, we were just friends really," she started to explain. "We only had one night together."
"You…you don't have to tell me," said Fraser, wishing he hadn't brought up the subject.
"No, no, it's OK," Stephanie replied. "I haven't told anyone before, but I want you to know. It was his last night with us before he left to head up a zebra reserve in Namibia. I haven't heard from him since; he doesn't know about Mia."
"Do you have a means of contacting him now?" asked Fraser.
"No, but I could probably find out if I asked around," Stephanie admitted. "I don't want to burden him, though. Mountain Zebra are endangered; there are only around twelve hundred left in the wild. They are much more important than me."
Fraser admired her passion for endangered species, although he couldn't help but think Mia's father would want to know that he had a daughter.
"I don't need his money," said Stephanie, suddenly. "Once my father's finances are sorted out Mia won't want for anything."
Fraser nodded. He didn't want to lecture her; it wasn't his place to do so. He hoped that once her life was more settled, Stephanie might realise that Mia's father had a right to know about her. He was about to say something positive, but then he realised that Stephanie was crying.
Fraser slid across the sofa and slipped his arm around her. "Sshhh," he tried to soothe her.
"I'm sorry," she replied. "I don't normally do this." Stephanie hated that she was crying in front of Fraser, but she felt so overwhelmed by everything and she couldn't help it.
"It's perfectly alright," replied Fraser. "You have had a lot to cope with recently."
"I love my daughter with all of my heart, but I never wanted children," sobbed Stephanie. "The world's resources are already under enough strain without another mouth to feed. I wanted to dedicate my life to the animals."
"There's no reason why being a parent should prevent you from continuing your work," replied Fraser.
"A single parent," Stephanie said, pulling away from him and folding her arms across her chest. "A single parent with a house that's falling down around me and no money to pay for the repairs…or to pay for anything else for that matter; that's who I am now."
xXxXx
The next morning dawned unseasonably warm and Fraser returned to Stephanie's house bright and early, just as he'd promised. He found Stephanie already at the site of the orangery with a sledgehammer and some tools she'd found in her father's old tool shed. Mia was in her pushchair eating some sliced banana. She seemed happy to watch her mother work and Fraser smiled at how content she was.
"I thought we should take out some of these panels first," said Stephanie as she struggled with a large pane of glass.
Fraser rushed forward to help her. "The construction techniques employed in the building of this structure were truly appalling," Fraser noted as the window easily lifted out of its substandard surround.
"My father had an old friend in the building trade," explained Stephanie. "I think Daddy was doing him a favour by giving him work. A lot of it is like this, I'm afraid."
They continued dismantling the orangery, carefully stacking the glass against the side of the house. After a little while, Mia started to get very restless and Stephanie lifted her out of her pushchair. "What time is it, Benton?" she asked over her shoulder.
Fraser pulled off one of his leather riggers gloves and looked at his watch. "Almost ten o'clock," he replied.
"Oh good; Heidi will be here any minute. I'd better get Mia ready," Stephanie said and she headed back to the main house.
Fraser continued to work and soon he noticed an old car pull up and a young woman get out. The temperature was rising steadily and he had to stop to take off his flannel shirt. As he folded it neatly and laid it on a low wall he saw the young woman leave with Mia.
A few minutes later, Stephanie reappeared with a large glass of water. "Heidi has agreed to, er…to…" she began, but the sight of Fraser in his white, sleeveless undershirt rendered her momentarily unable to speak. His strong biceps flexed as he worked and his broad shoulders easily bore the weight of the large window frames as he carried them across the yard.
Fraser turned and looked at her questioningly and took the glass from her with a smile and a, "Thank you kindly." He wiped away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his glove and eagerly drank the water, emptying the glass in one go.
"Heidi is going to keep Mia a little longer today," Stephanie finally managed to get out. She still couldn't take her eyes off him. His newly moistened lips glistened in the sun and she had to use every ounce of her self-control not to lean in and kiss them. No, we tried that once, but we've both moved on, she reminded herself. He's here as a friend.
The orangery was a shadow of its former self when they stopped for lunch. The midday sun was unforgiving and Stephanie insisted they sit in the shade of a large tree; she was concerned that Fraser had worked up quite a sweat. As they ate cheese and fruit, Stephanie told him of her plans to convert part of the main house into accommodation for troubled children. "I want to build more stables so I can have more horses," she explained. "At least ten, maybe more. The children who come to stay will get so much from being around the horses."
"The benefits of animal assisted therapy are well documented," agreed Fraser as he cut another slice of cheese. "It sounds like a wonderful idea."
"As soon as Daddy's money comes through I can start the work," Stephanie smiled.
"There's a lot to be done," noted Fraser.
"Not that much," replied Stephanie dismissively. She bit a strawberry in half and continued with her mouth full. "Once the new stable blocks are built I can start bringing in horses. I went to a sanctuary in Iowa last week; they're being forced to close and I promised I'd take all of their animals."
Fraser couldn't help but wonder if she was getting ahead of herself. She'd only been back in Chicago a short time and the house needed urgent repairs before she could even consider taking on more animals.
"Mia and I will live in the north wing and then we'll have space to accommodate at least twelve kids, plus the staff," Stephanie continued excitedly. "An old friend of mine from college is a therapist. I already called her and she sounded really eager. It's going to be great; I can save so many horses and we can do some really important work with the children. Make a real difference."
"How do you plan to fund the business in the long term?" asked Fraser.
"Fundraising," replied Stephanie with a smile. She noticed Fraser's look of concern. "Don't worry, I've thought it all through. I can do this," she insisted.
Fraser nodded and smiled. "I don't doubt that for a minute," he said. Stephanie was a determined and resolute woman and with the amount of tenacity she was demonstrating he believed that she could overcome any obstacle and succeed in achieving her dream.
They finished eating and Fraser felt refreshed and rehydrated enough to start demolishing the unstable walls. Stephanie started piling up some of the bricks, but the sight of Fraser in his sleeveless undershirt as he swung the sledgehammer over his shoulder was too distracting. As the hammer slammed into the walls and the bricks scattered at his feet, Stephanie began to wonder what might have been if she hadn't left Chicago three years ago.
Benton Fraser was all the man she could ever want. He was strong and capable and kind and thoughtful all rolled into one. Sharing her life with someone like him would be…but her thoughts trailed off. What was she thinking? She didn't need a man in her life. She'd never dreamed about sharing her life with anyone. She realised what this was; it was about Mia. More specifically it was about her hormones, this was just nature kicking in. Being a mother had changed her and she hated that. Suddenly she was looking for a potential provider; someone who could take care of her and her daughter. How ridiculous is that? I am perfectly capable of taking care of my own daughter.
She walked away from Fraser and his unintentionally overt display of masculinity and went back to the pile of windows instead. She wanted to clear her head. Being back home had reminded her of the person she used to be. She didn't regret going to Africa; it wasn't Africa that had changed her, it was Mia. Not that she blamed her tiny daughter - she couldn't do that - but motherhood so far had been everything she always thought it would and those were exactly the reasons why she had decided years ago that she did not want to be a mother.
Suddenly she heard a crack and felt a sharp pain in her arm. She hadn't been concentrating and one of the broken windows had snapped in two as she'd lifted it, the sharp edge slicing into her right forearm. "Ow!" she yelped.
Immediately, Fraser was at her side. He had a clean, white handkerchief in his hand. "Here," he said and began wrapping her bleeding arm.
"I'm alright," snapped Stephanie, "I can do it." She fumbled with her left hand, trying to push Fraser away and bind her arm on her own.
Fraser frowned. "Let me help," he said firmly. "We need to stop the bleeding."
"I know that," replied Stephanie, "and I can do it on my own."
Fraser nodded and reluctantly took a step back. To her credit, Stephanie was able to wrap the handkerchief quite tightly using only one hand.
"Are you alright?" Fraser asked when she'd finished.
"I'm fine," she replied, forcing a smile and holding up her arm for Fraser to see.
Fraser was relieved to see that the blood hadn't soaked through the white cloth; it must not have been too deep a cut. "Sit down for a few minutes," he suggested. "I'm almost through with the walls."
Stephanie was about to argue, but she realised that she felt a little shaky and perhaps resting was a good idea after all. "OK, Benton," she said.
Fraser proceeded to knock down the last of the walls with almost lightning speed as Stephanie looked on, holding her arm which was now starting to throb a little.
As the last of the bricks clattered to the ground, Fraser let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't used to working in such high temperatures. He'd have razed the entire building to the ground in an hour or two had they been back home in the Yukon, but the hot sun beating down had made it much harder work.
"Have you seen yourself, by the way?" Stephanie asked with a chuckle.
Puzzled, Fraser looked down at himself. His jeans and boots were white with dust. "Oh dear," he muttered. "I assume this is indicative of my appearance all over?"
Stephanie nodded. "You look like a ghost," she replied.
"Well I wouldn't be seen dead looking like that!" The voice of Bob Fraser took his son by surprise.
"You are dead," replied Fraser in a low voice.
"What?" Stephanie was confused.
"I said…I said I'm not dead," lied Fraser. He made a mental note to have a word with his father at the earliest opportunity about trying to engage him in conversation when there were other people in earshot. He was not happy at all that his father's random appearances caused him to lie to people he cared about. Fortunately Bob had already disappeared.
"No, no you're very much alive," replied Stephanie with a smile. She stood and tried to brush some of the dust from his hair.
Fraser froze to the spot, her touch sending tingles down his spine. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with her so he just stared straight ahead.
Stephanie felt him tense and wanted to say something to help him relax, but no words came to mind so instead she began brushing dust from his cheek with her thumb.
Fraser had never forgotten the feeling of her touch, even though they'd been together only a short time. Before she'd left for Africa Stephanie had just begun to break through some of his barriers. Of course all that happened before Victoria…oh why did I have to think about her now?
"Come back to the house and take a shower," suggested Stephanie. "The plumbing in the main bathroom is OK, or you can take a bath if you prefer. I love a nice long soak myself."
Fraser cleared his throat and finally turned to look at her. An image of her in the bath had popped into his head and he desperately tried to clear his mind.
"Thank you kindly, but I can use the washing facilities back at the Consulate," he replied. "Besides, I have not brought clean apparel with me."
"I can find you a change of clothes," Stephanie smiled.
Fraser was actually grateful for the opportunity to freshen up, so he accepted her offer. He hadn't been looking forward to walking all the way back to the Consulate in the searing heat. Normal Chicago summer temperatures felt too warm to him, so he had been struggling with the unseasonal highs of the last week or so. He had also been concerned about encountering Inspector Thatcher in such a filthy state. His superior officer would not have approved at all and would most likely have given him a lecture on bringing the image of the RCMP into disrepute.
As the warm water washed the last of the shampoo from his hair Fraser found himself thinking about Victoria for the second time that afternoon. He started to wonder what might have happened if Stephanie hadn't left Chicago and they'd still been together when Victoria had walked back into his life. Maybe if he'd been six months into a relationship with Stephanie then none of it would have happened? Or would it…he spun the scenarios round and round in his head.
Would I have cheated on Stephanie?
He leaned back heavily on the cold tiles of the shower cubicle and forced down a wave of nausea.
Would I? Did I feel so guilty about what I'd done to Victoria that I would still have allowed her to do what she did if I'd been in a loving relationship with Stephanie at that time?
He hung his head forward and breathed out slowly. He was suddenly aware that the temperature of the water running down his back had dropped and the coolness helped focus his thoughts.
No. No, I'm not that man. I was weak and Victoria took advantage of that, but in different circumstances it would not have happened.
Fraser took two deep breaths and finished his shower before the hot water ran out completely. With the towel wrapped tightly around his waist he walked back to the bedroom where Stephanie had promised to leave out some clean clothes, only to almost walk straight into her as she was coming out of the door.
"Oh, ah…" he mumbled. He felt very self-conscious standing half naked in front of her, but there was nowhere to hide.
Stephanie smiled and it took all of her self-control not to say 'Wow!' Instead she said. "I've found a brand new pair of sweat pants my father never wore."
"Thank…thank you kindly," replied Fraser. He coated his lower lip with his tongue and contemplated his next move. He could see in her eyes that she was having the same thoughts as he was. "Oh, you put a Band-Aid on that cut," he said, nodding to her injured arm. He was going to offer to do it for her, but she obviously hadn't needed her help. He was grateful, though, that it had provided something for him to say to break the awkward silence.
"Yes, it's not so bad," Stephanie replied. "Um, there's a t-shirt there for you too," she continued. "It might be a little tight. It's red; I thought you might like that." She giggled. She was aware that she was rambling about t-shirts just so she didn't have to leave, but it was all she could think to do at that moment. The old Stephanie wouldn't have hesitated, she realised. The old me used to know what she wanted and how to get it…
Fraser nodded and smiled. Inside he was yelling at himself to do something; touch her…kiss her…something, but he lost his chance as Stephanie walked away.
Stephanie busied herself downstairs preparing Mia's dinner, trying to keep her mind off Fraser. It had been wonderful having him here today. Besides finally feeling like progress had been made on renovating the house, it had been great just to have some adult company. She glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall; Heidi would be bringing Mia home soon. She thought about asking Fraser to stay for dinner again; old memories were resurfacing…old feelings and it felt good, but she was scared of pushing him away if she moved too fast. She wasn't even sure if trying to pick up where they'd left off was a good idea anyway; so much had changed. Slowly was definitely the right way forward for now, she decided.
"Thank you for the clothes." Fraser's voice made her jump. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said.
Stephanie laughed and blushed. "It's OK," she replied. "I put your dirty clothes in a bag, it's by the door," she added.
"I should, um…" Fraser began, glancing over to the door. "I should probably be getting back to the Consulate."
Stephanie thought she detected a hint of disappointment in his voice, or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
"Constable Turnbull has been looking after Diefenbaker for me today and I'm slightly nervous about the fallout from that particular situation," Fraser explained.
Stephanie laughed. She had not yet met Turnbull, but Fraser had told her a few stories while they'd been working and she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to meet him. "Thank you so much for your help today," she said, wiping her hands on a cloth. "I'm so happy to finally see the back of that stupid orangery." She walked over to him and kissed his cheek.
Fraser blushed. He tried to think of something to say, but he couldn't form any words.
Stephanie stayed close to him; lingering for longer than was necessary, hoping that he'd do something that would take the decision out of her hands, but nothing happened and the moment became too awkward. She hung her head in acceptance and turned away, but suddenly Fraser's hand was cupping the side of her face. She drew a sharp breath and leaned into his touch, biting her lower lip in anticipation.
Fraser's mind was racing; was he doing the right thing? He wasn't doing anything they hadn't done before and if he was reading her right then she wanted this now too…although he wasn't always good at reading signals in these situations. There was no going back now, though and turning his head slightly, he closed his eyes and kissed her.