He had lied all along.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Claire practically sprinted back to Vanessa’s place, cursing herself all the way for choosing not to drive into town.
Yes, it was bad decisions all the way today – and every day.
Somewhere along the way, the fury she’d felt when she dashed out of the yoga studio had morphed into searing pain. Claire wasn’t sure what hurt worse. Was it the fact that Scotty had lied to her a week ago when he’d said he was engaged to Nina before he actually was? Was it the fact that he’d kept lying the entire time she’d been back in Bindallarah?
Or was it the fact that something about seeing Claire in Sydney had made Scotty rush back to his hotel that Friday night, pick up the phone and propose marriage to a woman he’d known for a month?
Because that was clearly what had happened. Spending a couple of hours in Claire’s company was apparently so unpleasant for Scotty that he had dashed off and asked Nina to marry him.
She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. She had let Jackie’s insistence that something still burned between Claire and Scotty start to sink in. Against her better judgement, Claire had let herself consider – even hope for – the possibility that there was a chance for them. And believing that possibility existed, even for a little while, had felt wonderful.
But Scotty, meanwhile, must have been watching the clock that night in the pub, counting the seconds until he could extricate himself from Claire and throw himself at the feet of the woman he really wanted.
He had asked Claire to come to his wedding out of some old sense of obligation. He had extended the invitation because he had good country manners, not because deep down he was uncertain and wanted Claire to talk some sense into him. Scotty didn’t have doubts about marrying Nina. It was all in her head. He was right to suspect she had come to Bindy with an agenda. How could she have been so blind?
And – oh God. She had insisted on helping with the wedding arrangements, insinuating herself into proceedings like some oblivious party guest who won’t leave at the end of the evening. And Scotty had agreed – he’d let her make a fool of herself because she meant nothing to him.
But he meant everything to her. She loved him. Not just as a friend, though he was the best friend she’d ever had. Not just as an old flame she still had a soft spot for. Not as someone who would drift in and out of her life over the years – a Christmas card here, a catch-up coffee when they happened to be in the same city.
That would never be enough, she understood now. Scotty had lied to her about the timing of his engagement, but Claire had been lying to herself about her feelings for him for years. She didn’t reach out to him on social media six months ago hoping for some friendly chitchat. She wanted him back. Jackie, Vanessa, Gus – they were all right. Everyone saw it except Claire.
Nor did she come back to Bindallarah only because she was alarmed by Scotty’s rush to the altar. He and Nina could have had a ten-year engagement and Claire still would have despaired at the match. She had appealed to him – to both of them – to cancel the wedding not because of some benevolent concern for their future happiness, but because of a selfish, craven fear for her own. She didn’t want him to marry anyone. Ever. She only wanted him to want her.
Everything Claire had said and done over the past week was an attempt to hide the truth from herself. Every decision she’d made then unmade, every time she’d flip-flopped on whether or not it was her responsibility to try to prevent the wedding from going ahead, every time she had resolved to move on with her life only to find herself consumed once again by thoughts of Scotty – it was all a trick. Claire had thoroughly bamboozled herself. In trying to stop Scotty from tying the knot, she had instead tied herself up in knots. How would she ever begin to untangle the mess she’d made of her life?
Claire reached Vanessa’s front door and raced inside. Ignoring Gus’s startled greeting, she grabbed her car keys from the hall table and returned to the street. She got into her car, turned the key in the ignition and pressed the accelerator flat to the floor. She had to get away from this town – away from Scotty and Nina, away from the wedding that was thundering towards her like a freight train, away from all of it.
She had begun to think she might have been wrong about Bindallarah, even started to imagine a peaceful, happy life in the town she’d once loved so much she’d been heartbroken to leave. But that was crazy. There was nothing for Claire in Bindy. Trying to imagine a future here with Alex or anybody but Scotty Shannon was folly.
Claire was lost without Scotty. That was the agonising truth from which she’d been working so hard to distract herself. She had loved him since she was fifteen years old and she wanted him, all of him, all to herself. Forever.
But she was too late. That was never going to happen. And so she had to go.
‘Mate, is Claire here?’
Chris looked up at Scotty and shook his head. He was on his knees, his arms submerged elbows-deep in a trough of sudsy water. It reeked of the antiseptic solution he was using to disinfect every item of horse tack at Cape Ashe Stud. With close to fifty horses on the property, it was going to take days, even with the help of the half-dozen stablehands he’d roped in. But there was no getting around it – it was the only way to prevent the Strangles that had nearly claimed Autumn from spreading to the rest of the stable.
‘Nah,’ Chris said. ‘She was here last night to check on Autumn, but she didn’t stay long. Have you tried her aunt’s place?’
Damn it. Scotty had been to Vanessa’s cottage last night, as soon as Nina had told him about her odd conversation with Claire at the yoga studio. It was Claire’s cousin, Gus, who said she might have come up to Cape Ashe.
‘How was she? Did she seem okay?’ Scotty asked.
Chris stood up and shook the water from his hands. He regarded his brother with suspicion. ‘She seemed a bit wound up, come to think of it. Not her usual chilled self,’ he said. ‘Why? You two have a blue or something?’
Scotty let out a long breath. ‘I don’t know, mate. Kind of. I saw her yesterday with Alex Jessop and . . . things are a bit weird.’
He wasn’t about to tell Chris that he’d kissed Claire less than forty-eight hours ago almost exactly where he now stood. Or that late yesterday he’d had a phone call from Nina, who seemed to think she’d said something to Claire that she shouldn’t have, though she couldn’t work out what it was.
He needed to talk to Claire, straighten this mess out. He’d let things go way too far.
Chris crouched down and plunged his hands back into the trough again. ‘So? Alex is a good bloke. You’re not jealous, are you?’ His tone was jovial, but when Scotty didn’t respond his eyes widened in surprise. ‘Wait, are you jealous?’
‘I’m not jealous,’ he said. ‘What I am is a bloody idiot.’
‘Whoa,’ Chris replied. ‘Do we need a beer for this?’
‘It’s ten a.m., bro.’
‘I didn’t ask what time it was.’
Scotty nodded and followed his brother down the driveway to the main house. Inside, Chris’s wife, Amber, was helping their son, Matty, build a tower out of Lego blocks. She gave him a friendly wave from the living room as Chris took two bottles of beer from the fridge and gestured for Scotty to take a seat at the kitchen table.
Sometimes it struck Scotty as absurd that Chris was younger by two years. Scotty had always thought of himself as focused and decisive, always ready to step up or step in, but really it was Chris who was the more mature of the two of them. Chris just got on with things. While Scotty had worked twenty-four-seven to establish his clinic, Chris had taken over Cape Ashe Stud on their parents’ retirement and quietly taken it to the next level. Shannon-bred horses were more highly coveted than ever before. His marriage to Amber was rock solid and drama free; along with Matty, they were a tight family unit working towards shared goals.
Scotty, meanwhile, had jumped from fling to fling while tearing himself up over a woman he
’d loved and lost. Now he was a week away from marrying another woman – one he didn’t love.
‘How do you do it, Chris? This life business. I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing,’ Scotty said.
Chris twisted the tops from the beer bottles and slid one across the table to his brother. ‘What’s going on, mate?’ he said, his eyes darkening with concern. ‘You getting cold feet?’
‘It’s Claire. I can’t get her out of my head.’ He took a long pull on his beer.
‘What are you talking about? You’re about to marry Nina.’
‘I am actually aware of that, Chris,’ he said dryly. ‘But I just . . . I can’t let her go.’
‘Mate, Claire let you go. Remember? Eight years ago, when you proposed and she left the country. Don’t get me wrong, I like Claire, but you deserve better, Scotty. She’s caused you enough pain over the years.’ Chris drank from his own bottle. ‘I knew she’d try to mess things up,’ he added under his breath, almost to himself.
Part of Scotty knew Chris was right. Another part of him wanted to tell his little brother in no uncertain terms to watch his damn mouth.
‘I’m the one who’s messed everything up. I wasn’t honest with Claire. I didn’t tell her the real reason I’m marrying Nina,’ he said.
Chris stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘You’re joking.’
Scotty shook his head. If only he were joking.
‘So Claire thinks . . .?’
Scotty nodded.
‘But why? Why would you do that?’
Scotty stared at the table in silence. He’d asked himself that question a million times.
‘I think I was hoping,’ he said eventually, ‘that if Claire thought she was going to lose me for good, she might finally make up her mind.’
‘Oh, mate,’ Chris said quietly. ‘Claire’s not going to make a play for you if she thinks you’re in love with Nina. She’s not like that. You are a bloody idiot.’
Scotty laughed in spite of his misery. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like days. ‘Have you been talking to Nina? She said pretty much the same thing yesterday. Yelled it at me in the middle of the main street, actually.’
Chris smiled. ‘So what are you going to do?’
Scotty took a deep breath.
‘I’m going to tell Claire the truth,’ he said. ‘But first I have to find her.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Claire thought she’d been rumbled on the first night. She’d chosen the furthest corner of Thorne Hill to pitch the tent she’d hastily bought at the discount store on Saturday afternoon – a copse of shady gums at the edge of Bindallarah Creek. There were a hundred acres between her and the farmhouse, and the undulating landscape ensured that neither she nor her car could be seen from the road. She figured Scotty wasn’t likely to be kayaking on the creek or mending far-flung paddock fences when he had the clinic to run and Christmas Eve was just days away. Nobody would find her out here unless they knew exactly where to look – and the squire of Thorne Hill wouldn’t be looking for her anyway.
But Claire hadn’t counted on curious dogs.
She had just drifted into a fitful sleep on Saturday night when she was woken by an almighty splash. She lay in the stifling tent for what felt like an eternity, listening to something thrashing and snuffling in the creek just beyond the flimsy nylon. When at last she dared to switch on her torch and peek out, Claire had almost fainted with relief at the sight of Tank chasing moonbeams as they rippled across the still water.
The relief was swallowed by panic when it occurred to Claire that where Tank went, Scotty usually followed. But as the minutes ticked by with no sign of him, she realised the three-legged dog was simply doing his duty as Thorne Hill’s resident canine, stopping to cool off as he patrolled the perimeter to make sure the property was free of unsavoury characters – characters like his master’s heartsick ex-girlfriend, who was hiding in plain sight.
Tank didn’t seem to have any suspicions about Claire, though. In fact, he actually seemed to like her. He had come back to visit every evening since, gratefully gulping whatever tidbits she had to share with him, then curling up next to her to listen to the rainbow lorikeets and cockatoos shrieking as the sun sank in the sky.
He watched her now as she dismantled the tent and rolled up her sleeping bag. She had hardly needed it – the mercury hadn’t dipped below twenty degrees on any of the four nights Claire had been camping out. She wished she’d invested in a mosquito net or some insect repellent, though – she was covered in bites from top to toe. Her father would be appalled by her terrible outdoor skills.
Claire knew it was crazy to have come to Thorne Hill. How would she ever explain herself to Scotty if he found her there? But she couldn’t stay in Bindallarah and risk running into him on the street, seeing the look of pity in his eyes as he was forced yet again to endure the presence of a woman who just wouldn’t take the hint. The chances of finding herself face to face with him on his own property were much smaller, she decided.
Scotty had no inkling that Claire was there if his increasingly frantic ‘Where are you?’ text messages and missed calls were any indication. She wondered why he cared. Surely he was glad she’d left town. He must be grateful she wasn’t still badgering him to cancel his wedding. Claire ignored all his attempts at contact until he texted to say he was on his way to Bindy police station to report her as a missing person. She replied then to say she was camping and had unreliable mobile reception. It was the same story she’d told Vanessa and Gus, though she’d made them promise not to say anything to Scotty about her whereabouts.
When she went to Cape Ashe Stud to check on Autumn on Saturday afternoon, Claire had briefly wondered if she could secrete herself there. But with Chris in the main house, his parents in their home up on the ridge and staff coming in and out of the property all day, it was much more likely that Claire would be sprung. Her heart gave a little lurch as she realised there would be even more activity at the property this week with wedding preparations in full swing. She should have told Chris that the equine quarantine meant the event couldn’t go ahead, she thought. Shutting down the venue was a surefire way to derail a wedding. Any cartoon villain worth her salt should have known that.
Another missed opportunity.
Besides, Thorne Hill was the only place aside from Cape Ashe where Claire had ever felt truly happy. She had loved growing up there. Even when her parents’ conversations had grown terse and her father had started drinking more, it had been her sanctuary, the one place she always felt at ease – until she was sent away to school and the life she had loved was ripped from her.
It now made more sense to her that Scotty had bought the place. It was an incredibly beautiful property and it deserved to be in the care of someone who saw that beauty, who understood its potential instead of bemoaning its limitations the way Jim always had. She hoped Scotty would be happy there, him and Nina and the children they would have one day.
She had retreated to Thorne Hill because she needed time to get her head together. She needed the space and tranquillity of her childhood home to try to find peace within herself. Claire had hoped that coming back to Thorne Hill would help her finally say goodbye to her past – all of it.
Had it worked? She didn’t quite know yet. She was still in love with Scotty – that hadn’t changed – but she’d accepted that it made no difference. She’d missed her chance with him. It hurt to admit it and it probably always would. But Claire hoped it would hurt less in time. Maybe the pain would become something she could live with.
‘Off you go, Tank,’ she said to the watchful dog. ‘Go home. Where’s Scotty? Find Scotty.’
Tank took off in the direction of the house as fast as his three stubby legs would carry him. Claire watched as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, feeling a little guilty. She knew Scotty wouldn’t be at the house. His and Nina’s joint bucks’ and hens’ party was set to start in an hour. Scotty would be at the beach by now.
>
And soon, so would she.
Flaming bamboo torches lit the path through the dunes to the beach, but Claire would have found her way without them. The cacophony of music and merry voices mixed with the scent of barbequing meat and drifted into the night sky in a cloud of muggy sea air. The whole town seemed to have converged on Bindallarah Beach for Scotty and Nina’s party. The sand was a writhing mass of people. The golden glow cast by the torches illuminated Santa hats and tinsel accessories on those who had clearly decided the event should do double duty as a Christmas party.
Claire paused at the bottom of the path, taking in the scene. She saw Nina right away, wearing a stunning beaded kaftan that sparkled as it caught the light. She was also wearing a tiara, a sash that proclaimed her the ‘Bride-to-Be’ in swirly pink lettering, and what looked suspiciously like penis-shaped earrings. Surrounded by a gaggle of women no doubt quizzing her for every detail of the wedding, Nina was smiling, but Claire thought she detected something guarded in her expression.
Nearby, she saw Chris Shannon with his wife, Amber, and Scotty’s parents, Mike and Janine. Claire wondered who was looking after their little boy, Matty, when it seemed the entire district had turned out for the party. She saw Vanessa and Gus, who was swirling her wine around in her glass as ostentatiously as a sommelier.
But she didn’t see Scotty anywhere.
Claire made her way hesitantly towards the party. Vanessa saw her approaching and waved. Claire headed in her direction, but she hadn’t taken more than three steps when she felt a strong hand close around hers.
‘There you are,’ said a deep voice. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
Claire turned to see Alex, smiling warmly. Her heart sank a little as she realised she could add his name to the list of people she was fated to disappoint.
‘You have?’ she said.
‘Yeah! You kind of vanished off the face of the earth after our date on Saturday.’
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