by Cathryn Hein
‘It was rather.’ She held out the other powdery cheek to her grandson. ‘Congratulations are in order, Digby.’
He dutifully obliged with a peck. ‘Good work. So when’s the big event?’
‘The weekend ending Art Week, to encourage visitors already here to linger. Of course the long-term goal is to hold it separately over a few days, but one must crawl before one gallops.’ She poked Digby with a scarlet fingernail. ‘You’ll be able to offer your first vintage. Speaking of which, have you decided on a name for your label yet?’
‘As a matter of fact I have.’
Both Jas and Granny B regarded him with astonishment.
‘Since when?’ asked Jas.
He shrugged. ‘About half an hour ago.’
The sinking feeling returned to Jasmine’s stomach. He would name it after her. From the stiffening in Granny B’s shoulders, she held the same fear.
As if to fortify herself against unpleasantness, Granny B downed the final finger of Scotch. ‘Well, spit it out.’
For some reason Digby looked at Jas when he spoke. ‘Gratia.’
Granny B harrumphed. Jas simply stared.
She could guess what it meant: some sort of derivation of thanks. The question was where the thanks were directed. He’d decided on the name at the quarry, yet his gaze was intense on hers.
‘It’s …’ Jas tried to come up with something appropriate, and failed. ‘Nice?’
The corner of Digby’s mouth twitched and he bent as though to elaborate, but Josh began clanging the back of a knife against a beer bottle, calling for attention. ‘I’ll explain later.’
Everyone turned towards the verandah, where Josh and Em had perched themselves. Feet shuffled, hands twitched, and excitement buzzed in the air like bees. Adrienne was wringing her hands, already on the verge of tears. From the way she was biting her bottom lip and blinking, Josh’s mum Michelle wasn’t far behind.
Jas checked on Digby. He smiled and gently stroked a crooked finger down her cheek, letting her know he was ready and okay. She covered her hand over his and squeezed.
‘Thanks, everyone, for coming today,’ said Josh. ‘From the way you’re all staring at us I guess you’ve figured out what we’re going to announce. So to put you out of your misery, yes, Em’s pregnant. The baby’s due in February.’ He squeezed his wife against his side. ‘Poor Em’s in for a long summer.’
If Digby had reacted in any way negatively, Jas missed it. As soon as the announcement was out, he was applauding and cheering with the rest of them.
‘Did you know?’ Jas asked, as they waited behind Josh’s two sisters to offer their congratulations to the ecstatic couple.
‘I guessed.’
‘From Em?’
He shook his head. ‘Josh. He’s been strutting around like a rooster lately. I figured the reason had to be a baby.’
‘She wanted this with Josh so badly,’ said Jas, suddenly feeling teary. It was all so romantic. Em and Josh falling in love at a young age, breaking up and then finding each other again. Now, after months of trying, they were going to complete their family. ‘I’m so thrilled for them.’
‘I am too. Josh deserves this.’ He paused before adding a quiet, ‘They both do.’
Champagne appeared. Toasts were made. Advice on pregnancy and parenthood flowed. Desserts were brought out—pavlova from Michelle’s kitchen, some sort of complicated layered chocolate and hazelnut torte from Adrienne’s. Em managed to trump them both with an icing-slathered white chocolate mud-cake, cheekily pink on one side and blue on the other, along with the proclamation that no one, not even the parents, would know the baby’s sex until it was born.
‘If she was conceived here,’ declared Granny B, strutting past, this time with a flute of champagne, ‘she’ll be a girl.’ She nodded towards the volcano. ‘It knows how to bring them on.’
‘Do you think she’s right?’ asked Jas, after Granny B had moved away from the food and guests to indulge in a celebratory cigar. Digby’s arms were around her chest again, keeping her warm. Soon the sun would fall past the house, plunging them into shadow. Then the cold would settle in properly and they’d either have to move inside or leave. As happy as she was for Em and Josh, Jas wanted the latter.
‘Hard to say. She has a fifty-fifty chance.’
‘Look at you two,’ said Michelle Sinclair, beaming at them. ‘So in love.’ She sighed deeply and turned to regard her son and daughter-in-law. ‘I’m going to spoil that child very badly.’
‘You and Mum both,’ said Digby.
‘It’s what grandparents are for.’ On cue, one of Josh’s nephews hurtled around the side of the house, footy under one arm and wailing, his red-faced elder brother hot in pursuit. Casting them a wry smile, Michelle hurried to referee.
Jas continued to watch the sunbeams strike the garden like a blessing. Her heart was beating hard from Michelle’s comment. It was the first time anyone had ever mentioned the L word. There’d been plenty of comments about how good she and Digby looked together, how pleased they were to see them happy, but no one dared to use the term love. Perhaps, like her, they feared his true heart still belonged to Felicity.
‘Jas?’ His voice was husky and barely above a whisper.
She closed her eyes. ‘Yes?’
‘Are we?’
The pound in her chest escalated. Jas swallowed. If she said yes and he said no there’d be no hiding her despair. Knowing her rampant emotions, she’d probably burst into noisy sobs and ruin everyone’s day. ‘Are we what?’
‘What Michelle said.’
She squeezed her eyes even tighter shut. To tell the truth or not? Jas sucked in two more breaths and opened her eyes. It was time. ‘Yes. I mean, I am. I can’t speak for you.’ She winced at how dumb that sounded. This was meant to be a profound moment. The time when she revealed her heart. Instead she sounded as if what it held was embarrassing.
‘Yeah, you can.’
She could?
‘I don’t understand.’
Digby gently placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her round to face him. ‘It’s true. I love you.’
Glancing at the hill was almost reflex. ‘But …’ She bit her lip.
‘Look at me. Not there. At me.’ He grabbed her hand and held it against his chest. ‘There’s only you in here.’
She sniffed but it was too late. ‘I’m going to bawl.’
‘I thought you might, which is why I wanted to take you home earlier so I could tell you there, but Michelle beat me to it.’ He bent close, a smile in his voice. ‘Can you hang on? My grandmother’s watching.’
She sniffed harder and made a noise that was half-laugh, half-sob. ‘Of course she is.’ Gathering all her strength, Jas wiped her watery eyes. ‘She thinks this is all her doing. You’d better take me home before she comes over to gloat.’
‘No goodbyes?’
‘Not unless you want to.’ Em would understand. Josh too. Granny B would have to lump it.
‘Nope.’
Digby steered her away from the gathering. At the end of the path, Jas chanced a glance back. Granny B was holding her champagne glass up in salute. Behind her, Em had her hands folded in front of her mouth as if in prayer. Josh had one hand on her shoulder and was grinning. Every one of them held an expression filled with delight. Though they might not have heard Digby and Jasmine’s conversation, clearly they’d caught the meaning of the moment.
Jas grinned in return and leaned into the wonderful solidity of Digby’s body.
‘So what does it mean?’ she asked from the passenger seat as Digby negotiated the road to Admella Beach. ‘The wine label.’
‘Gratia?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Latin for thanks. Thanks from me to you. For all you are, for all you’ve done.’
Jasmine’s jaw hung. ‘But I thought …’ Her throat closed over. Prickles itched her eyes. Not good. After so far managing to hold it together she was going to bawl, which would be fine if s
he cried delicately but Jas never did anything delicately.
Digby glanced at her. ‘You thought it was for Felicity?’
‘You were up the hill when you came up with it.’
‘I was, and the whole time I was thinking about you. How amazing you are. How crazy I am about you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. You brought me out of darkness, Jas. I thought I was broken forever. That I’d never be able to love anyone again. I was angry and empty and had no hope, then you came along with your Doctor Who and sympathy and things began to change. Everything became that little bit brighter. You made me smile again. Reminded me what it was like to be with someone who cared.’
‘I did more than care, Dig. I fell in love with you.’
He frowned a little. ‘Christ, I’m sorry. I knew you felt strongly but I didn’t realise that.’
Jas shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to pressure you.’
‘It’s a wonder you didn’t hate me after the beach.’
‘Believe me, I had moments when I wanted to but I couldn’t. You weren’t leaving me to be mean, you were leaving because you thought it was right.’
‘I was wrong.’
She had thought so too, for a long time, but time had given Jas perspective.
‘No. If you hadn’t left neither of us would have discovered our own strengths. We needed that break.’
‘Maybe.’ He thought on it for a moment. ‘I suppose if I hadn’t been so bored and missed you so much I wouldn’t have bought Tyndale.’
‘And I wouldn’t have reassessed what I wanted. So it worked.’
He glanced from the road to her. ‘Doesn’t take away the fact I hurt you.’
‘That’s okay. I survived. Just don’t do it again.’
‘I won’t. That’s a promise.’
A promise. After almost four years of them with Mike she should have been cynical about its worth, but this was Digby. A man who’d cared so much about her he’d forsaken his own comfort so Jas might find happiness. His promise was worth everything. He was worth everything.
‘Thank you.’ Utterly inadequate, but her brain was full of dopamine and God knows how many other hormones let loose by her love-drunk body, and it was all she could think of to say.
Digby winked at her. The gesture was so sexy her stomach lurched before bolting heat to her groin. ‘You can thank me properly when we get home.’
This was firmer ground. Jas rolled her eyes and pretended exasperation. ‘There you go, thinking about sex again.’
‘Yeah, right. Like you don’t think about sex all the time.’
‘Only with you. And I think about other things too.’
‘Like love?’ There was hesitation in his voice. Neither of them was used to the step they’d taken, but it would come. Their love was a topic Jas intended to explore in great detail.
‘There’s been quite a bit of that.’
He reached for her hand and gripped it. ‘The way it should be. You, me, no one else. Just us and what’s in our hearts.’
Jas smiled and leaned back against the seat, fingers entwined with Digby’s, his smile as content as hers.
Absolutely the way it should be.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I had such a wonderful time writing this book and was thrilled to finally get Digby and Jasmine’s story down, but stories never reach shelves without a lot of people helping along the way. My special thanks to agent Clare Forster of Curtis Brown and the clever team at Harlequin Australia, including but not limited to Sue Brockhoff, Rachael Donovan, Annabel Blay and editor Di Blacklock. I’ve enjoyed working with you enormously. To Harlequin’s clever cover designers, THANK YOU! You exceeded even my dreams with this cover, and may have created a few new ones with it too. Beautiful work.
Also huge thanks to my special writing buddies who keep me sane and are always up for a laugh, a whinge, or a glass or two of fizz. Extra mention must go to Rachael Johns for being such a great support and always being available at the end of an email, text or phone.
Most of all to Jim. My rock. All heroes should be modelled on you.
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First Published 2017
First Australian Publication 2017
ISBN 9781489214522
WAYWARD HEART
© 2017 by Cathryn Hein
Australian Copyright 2017
New Zealand Copyright 2017
Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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