Two Weeks 'til Christmas
Page 6
‘Scotty, are you living at Cape Ashe?’ she asked him.
He looked surprised by the question. ‘No, I haven’t lived there since high school. Chris is in the main house with his wife, Amber, and their little boy, Matty. Mum and Dad built a smaller place up on the ridge a few years back.’
‘Chris is married? Isn’t he, like, twelve?’ The idea of Scotty’s baby brother having a wife and a baby of his own seemed absurd. All these people she’d once known so well, all living lives she knew nothing about.
‘He’s twenty-seven. Only a year younger than you,’ Scotty said, chuckling. ‘He’s been married a couple of years. Remember, we tend to get hitched young in the bush.’
Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Scotty’s meaning sank in. If she had accepted his proposal at twenty, they could have been married for eight years by now. What would her life look like as Mrs Shannon? She would have come back to Bindallarah with him after university, that much she knew. It had always been Scotty’s plan to have his own clinic in town. But what would she have done? Had kids right away? She couldn’t have become an equine specialist, not here. It wasn’t until she went to college in America that she even realised horses were her passion.
If she’d stayed here, she might not be working as a vet at all. Claire shuddered at the thought. She may not have much in her life besides work, but she loved her work. She couldn’t imagine being happy without it.
And in Bindallarah terms, being single at twenty-nine made Scotty the male equivalent of a spinster. Was that why he and Nina had got engaged so quickly? Did she tick most of the boxes on his ‘Dream Wife’ checklist, so he figured he’d better stop wasting time and lock her down?
Vanessa cleared her throat. ‘Scotty and Nina live at Thorne Hill, Claire,’ she said.
Without warning, a wave of nausea washed over her. She stared at Scotty, open-mouthed. ‘You do not.’
He looked down at his plate. ‘I was going to tell you,’ he mumbled.
Nina’s head swivelled between Scotty and Claire as though she was watching a tennis match. ‘You know Scotty’s farm?’ she asked, her eyes as round as horseshoes. ‘Sorry, our farm?’
‘Thorne Hill is my place. My family’s place. I mean, it was. It’s where I grew up.’ Claire turned to face her aunt. ‘But you said the McGraths next door had bought it,’ she accused.
‘The McGraths did buy it,’ Vanessa said patiently. ‘But Annie passed away last year and it was just too much land for Brian to look after on his own, so he sold it to Scotty . . . this past winter, wasn’t it?’
Scotty nodded. ‘Not long before we reconnected, Claire,’ he said, and she heard the note of pleading in his voice. He wanted her to understand. ‘I actually thought that might have been why you got in touch again after such a long time. I assumed Vanessa must have told you I’d bought it.’
Claire set her jaw. ‘Well, she didn’t.’
She felt betrayed, though she knew she had no right to. She hadn’t wanted the responsibility of the family’s dairy farm when Jim had died. Even Scotty’s plan that they marry and run it together couldn’t persuade her. Her father’s increasingly desperate attempts to make it profitable had pushed his own marriage to the brink, which in turn had been the reason Claire was banished to boarding school. Well, part of the reason, she admitted, as from the corner of her eye she watched Scotty watching her. She closed her eyes and was drawn back to her final summer at Thorne Hill, when Scotty had been a frequent visitor under the cover of darkness. She shivered at the memory.
Claire had left Vanessa to arrange for the farm to be sold while she escaped to California after her father’s death – one more thing she’d selfishly expected her aunt to just take care of. When she had found out the true extent of Jim’s financial woes, Claire had told herself she was doubly glad to be rid of the place. As long as the meagre proceeds of the sale cleared his debts and covered her college tuition, she had decided she didn’t care who bought the property. But a small part of her had been glad when she’d learned Jim’s neighbours were the farm’s new owners, instead of some developer looking to carve up the hundred acres of rolling green hinterland to build holiday cottages or something equally depressing.
‘I don’t get it, Scotty. Why would you buy the place? What are you going to do with it?’ That he hadn’t thought to mention he and his future wife would be beginning their married life in her childhood home was shocking enough, but what Claire couldn’t get her head around was why Scotty would want Thorne Hill at all. Her father had failed to make it profitable and it had proved too much for Brian McGrath. How was Scotty going to run both a farm and his vet clinic?
‘I’ve always liked Thorne Hill,’ he said. ‘It’s a beautiful spot up there in the hills and I don’t think its potential has ever been, uh, fully explored.’ He was choosing his words carefully, Claire could tell. She knew Scotty didn’t want her to think he was criticising her father – as if everyone in town wasn’t already well aware of Jim Thorne’s shortcomings as a businessman. ‘I wasn’t really looking to buy such a big property, but when I heard Brian was selling I realised it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I’ve got a lot of ideas for the place.’
‘Like what?’ she said, trying to pretend she didn’t notice Nina looking increasingly uneasy as her fiancé talked about the farm.
Scotty opened his mouth, but before he could reply Gus reappeared holding a stack of magazines. ‘Ta-da!’ she said triumphantly, dumping them on the table next to Nina’s plate. Nina looked startled. ‘Every issue of Cosmo Bride since 2010. You’re bound to find your dream dress in there, Nina.’
‘Gus, why do you have nearly a decade’s worth of bridal magazines? You’re only eighteen. You don’t even have a boyfriend,’ Claire said.
‘Thank you for pointing that out, Claire.’ Gus’s reply was tart. ‘You are correct. But I do have a very clear picture of what my wedding will look like when I do find Mr Right.’ She pushed the stack towards Nina. ‘Go for your life.’
Nina flicked half-heartedly through the top copy and exhaled, blowing out her cheeks. ‘Gosh, I don’t even know where to start,’ she said. She held up a picture of a ballgown-style dress with a bejewelled bodice and a skirt consisting of acres of gauzy tulle. ‘I doubt I’d be able to get anything this . . . weddingy in time for Christmas Eve.’
Anxiety clouded Nina’s flawless features and Claire felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for Scotty’s intended. She was a virtual stranger in a town that was insular at the best of times, marrying one of its favourite sons in just a few days’ time, without family or friends to guide her. The poor woman must have been terrified.
She suddenly remembered her resolution to befriend Nina. ‘I’ll help you. We’ll go shopping in Alison Bay tomorrow,’ she said decisively. The next town along the coast was ten times larger than Bindallarah. ‘I don’t think there’s any actual bridal boutiques between here and Brisbane, but if I remember correctly Ally Bay has some nice stores. It’ll have to be off the rack, but we’ll find you a beautiful dress. You’d look stunning in anything.’
Nina’s concerned expression gave way to an elated smile. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘Oh my gosh, Claire, that would be amazing. Thank you so much.’ She reached across the table and gave Claire’s hand a grateful squeeze.
‘You know, I could help in other ways, too,’ Claire said, turning her attention to Scotty. ‘I have all this time on my hands. Why don’t you let me help out with the wedding plans? Make life a little easier for you both.’
In her peripheral vision, Claire saw Vanessa shoot a sharp look in her direction. Scotty looked faintly alarmed too. ‘Oh, well, I don’t really —’
‘That’s a wonderful idea,’ Nina exclaimed at the same time. ‘Scotty, you’ve been saying how busy you are. Claire knows Bindallarah so much better than I do. You know you could use the help.’
Scotty paused for what felt like an eternity. His emerald eyes grew dark in the flickering torchlight. ‘Okay,’ he
said at last. ‘Thanks, Claire.’
She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Happy to lend a hand for an old friend.’
Claire didn’t know why Scotty had bought Thorne Hill or why he was intent on living in it with a woman he barely knew. She didn’t know why a worldly and, she had to admit, lovely woman like Nina had pitched up in a rural backwater and agreed to marry someone who hadn’t thought to mention that their future marital home once belonged to his ex-girlfriend. She didn’t know whether spending time one on one with Scotty was a good idea or a calamity waiting to happen. And if it was destined to be calamitous, she didn’t know who would suffer the most – him or her.
But Claire did know one thing: she was going to find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Vanessa asked the next morning. ‘Actually, let me rephrase that: this is not a good idea.’
Claire froze midway through rifling behind the sofa cushions in a frantic search for her car keys. ‘Why would you say that?’
Vanessa perched on the coffee table and set down her mug of tea beside her. She gave her niece a look that said, Do I really need to spell it out?
Claire sighed. ‘Aunty Vee, for the hundredth time, Scotty is my friend. Just my friend. Why shouldn’t Nina become my friend, too?’ Her fingers closed around the wayward keys and she pulled them out with a triumphant flourish.
‘Friends or not, Scotty was the love of your life. I just worry that forcing yourself to spend time with his fiancée to prove a point is not going to end well.’ She took a sip of her tea.
Vanessa’s tone was gentle, but her words struck Claire like a sledgehammer. ‘The love of my life?’ she spat. ‘So if I can’t be with Scotty I’m destined to be alone forever? Well, forget the shopping, I guess I might as well go and adopt fifteen cats right now.’
‘There’s no need for sarcasm,’ her aunt said. ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
‘And what point am I trying to prove? That I can be a mature adult? That I’m not going to despise a woman just because a man I once loved chose her instead of me?’ As soon as the words left her mouth, Claire realised how they sounded. ‘I don’t mean . . . I didn’t want . . .’ She let out an exasperated breath. ‘He was never going to choose me. That’s not what this is about.’
Claire sank onto the sofa and Vanessa moved to sit next to her. ‘Then what is it about, sweetheart?’ she said.
‘It’s about . . .’ Claire looked around Vanessa’s cosy living room, as if the words she was looking for could be hiding in a corner. Her gaze came to rest on her aunt’s enormous white Christmas tree. It was the same one she’d had since Claire was a little girl, back when her parents were still together. She had always loved their family Christmases, filled with laughter and presents and way too much food. She remembered creeping into her parents’ bedroom before sunrise on Christmas Day. Their windows would be wide open, the day already warm, and she would feel the soft, fragrant breeze caressing her bare arms as she tiptoed excitedly across the floorboards to rouse her father. Jim hadn’t minded being woken early. He had been a typical farmer in that sense. The morning was the best part of the day, he had said – and Christmas morning was the best morning of them all.
But that had all been so long ago. Christmas would never be like that again. This town had a way of trapping people in the past.
‘It’s about moving forward,’ she told Vanessa. ‘Honestly, I have doubts about the speed of this wedding, but it’s not because I still have those kinds of feelings for Scotty. This is about the future. His and Nina’s.’
And mine.
Vanessa pursed her lips. She looked entirely unconvinced, but she didn’t say anything further.
‘Trust me, Aunty Vee. I know what I’m doing,’ Claire said. She stood and picked up her handbag. ‘I’d better get going or I’ll be late to pick up Nina.’
Scotty was standing at the reception desk finalising a patient’s discharge paperwork when his fiancée and his ex-girlfriend strolled past the clinic window, talking animatedly. Nina peered inside and waved when she saw him. Claire didn’t even glance in his direction.
He felt sick. His guts churned with the bilious ferocity of a post-rugby grand final hangover.
‘You all right, doc?’ said his client Toby Watts. He clutched the leash of a glum golden retriever sporting a comically large Elizabethan collar. ‘You look a bit rough.’
‘Thanks, mate. You’re too kind,’ Scotty deadpanned. He knew he looked awful. He’d hardly slept a wink after dinner at Vanessa Thorne’s place last night. The second his head hit the pillow his mind was racing, filled with thoughts of Claire.
Not Nina. Not his fiancée. Claire. His ex, the first woman he’d wanted to marry. Who was now taking the woman he was marrying to shop for a wedding dress.
How messed up was that?
‘Sorry, buddy,’ Toby chuckled. ‘Listen, while I’m here, let’s talk about food for the wedding. If you want a whole pig I’ll have to order it right away . . .’
Scotty nodded and pretended to listen while Bindallarah’s award-winning butcher droned on about suckling pigs and lambs and charcoal-spit rental. He knew he should be paying attention – people were pulling out all the stops to help Scotty arrange an eleventh-hour wedding at the least convenient time of year – but he wasn’t.
He was still thinking about her.
He kept replaying the moment Claire had opened Vanessa’s front door last night. The way her curls hung loose around her shoulders. The way she smiled when she saw him. Her short skirt and her long legs. That David Bowie T-shirt. His David Bowie T-shirt.
He wondered if she remembered that he’d given it to her. She’d swiped it from him that first week at university, when they’d fallen back into each other’s lives and just as quickly into bed. After three years without her, three years of waiting to get over her and never quite succeeding, Scotty would have given her anything if it meant she’d stay.
But she didn’t stay. Two years later she left him, shattered his heart almost beyond repair. Then she left the country. If he’d had any lingering hope of a future with her, Claire moving to America had been pretty unequivocal.
And now he was with Nina. Gorgeous, intelligent, charming Nina, who was as focused and decisive as Claire was scattered and hesitant. Kind, patient Nina, who came into his life just as he’d convinced himself he’d be alone forever. Nina, who had agreed to marry him, even though it was fast and probably crazy. Nina, who saw what a good team they made. Scotty was the envy of every straight man in town and he knew it.
But he had Claire, too, he reminded himself. She’d come back, in a way. They were friends and Claire seemed determined to be Nina’s friend as well. He’d seen the brief flash of dismay that had hijacked Claire’s face the moment she’d seen Nina. Women often looked at his fiancée that way. He knew he should feel grateful that he was going to be able to have both Nina and Claire in his life. He could have his cake and eat it. The woman he’d always wanted and the life he’d always planned. Just not the way he’d imagined either scenario.
Scotty realised Toby had stopped talking and was staring quizzically at him. He stared blankly back.
‘So, what do you reckon?’ Toby said.
‘Sorry, mate, I missed that. Don’t think I’ve quite woken up yet,’ Scotty said with a forced laugh, shaking his head to try to shift the brain fog. ‘What were you saying?’
‘Do you want to come in tomorrow morning and place the order?’
‘Um . . .’ His mind drifted to Claire once again, taking Nina shopping for a wedding dress, offering to help him with the wedding preparations. He should just talk to her, explain the whole thing. She would understand. Hopefully. ‘I will come in. Yes. And I’ll bring Claire Thorne with me.’
Toby’s mouth hung open. ‘Claire Thorne?’
‘She’s back in town for the wedding. Helping me and Nina out with some of the arrangements.’
>
‘You don’t say.’ Toby’s tone was loaded. Scotty smiled and handed Toby the receipt for his dog’s treatment. Half of Bindallarah would find a reason to be in the butcher’s shop the next day, he’d wager.
Scotty called for his next patient and resolved to put Claire out of his mind until he saw her in the morning. He was on a path he hadn’t planned to travel, and it was entirely of his own making. He’d dug himself into a deep, deep hole and he had to try to haul himself out of it before it was too late.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Satin + Heels was their last hope. Claire and Nina had been to every boutique in Alison Bay. Claire had watched patiently as Nina had tried on any dress that looked even the slightest bit bridal. As Claire had predicted, she looked jaw-droppingly beautiful in every single one. She might have felt resentful if she hadn’t found herself genuinely enjoying Nina’s company.
Claire didn’t have many girlfriends in Sydney – Jackie was as close to a BFF as it got. She’d lost touch with her Bindallarah schoolfriends when she went to boarding school, and the less said about the girls actually at boarding school the better. At university she and Scotty had been so wrapped up in each other that no one else really got a look in. She’d lived in an all-female dorm at college in America, and there were always plenty of girls to hang out with, but none of those friendships stuck once she moved back to Australia. It felt strangely exciting to be getting along so well with Nina – and just plain strange that she was Scotty’s fiancée.
Maybe that was why she had vetoed every dress Nina had tried on. Nina wasn’t fussy – she would have happily bought the first gown she’d seen. She was almost blasé about the decision. But nothing was quite right, at least not in Claire’s opinion. She told herself she had a responsibility to make sure Nina didn’t make a purchase as important as her wedding dress without properly exploring all her options.