The High Price of Secrets

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “Found it,” he said a moment later. He rattled off the address.

  “That’s weird,” Tamsyn replied, chewing on the end of her pen. “That’s the address I went to on Saturday, but the man there said he hadn’t heard of Mom.”

  “Let me check with Dad’s solicitor and get back to you. Could be someone made a mistake somewhere.”

  Or it could be that someone was lying to her. The thought echoed around in her mind. Could Finn be deliberately keeping information about her mother from her? Surely not. What would be the point? It’s not as if he stood to gain anything by it.

  “Okay, thanks. Send me a text or email when you know, okay? In the meantime, I’ve decided to take a short-term lease on a cottage here. I want to spend more time poking around, see if I can bump into anyone who might know her and how I can find her.”

  “Tam, are you sure you’re doing the right thing? Maybe if she’s hard to find it’s because she doesn’t want to be.”

  “It’s not about what she wants anymore,” Tamsyn said with uncharacteristic firmness. “This time it’s about what she owes me. I deserve to know why she left us, Ethan. I need to know.”

  She heard her brother sigh in frustration. “By the way,” Ethan said, “I talked to Trent. He told me what happened.”

  Tamsyn felt as if a fist had closed around her heart and her lungs burned, reminding her to draw in a breath.

  “R-really? Ev-everything?” she stuttered.

  “With a little coaxing.” The steel in Ethan’s voice left her in no doubt that her brother had not been his usual urbane self when approaching her ex-fiancé. He continued before she could gather her thoughts together. “I don’t blame you for needing some time out. He duped us all, Tam. Led us all to believe he’d love you the way you deserved to be loved. He was promising something he couldn’t deliver. No matter his orientation, what he did to you was wrong on every level. You deserved better than that and you still do. Isobel’s so mad I had to physically restrain her from heading into town to deal with him. I just wanted you to know, we’re in your corner. Whatever you need from us right now, it’s yours.”

  Tears throbbed at the back of Tamsyn’s eyes and she stared up at the ceiling in a vain attempt to force them back. If she let go now, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop, and if Ethan heard her crying he’d be here faster than she could blink. This was her mission, her goal. She had to do it for herself. For once in her life she wasn’t doing something to please someone else, this was all about her.

  She focused, instead, on the idea of Ethan’s fiancée, Isobel, and the very idea of the tiny blonde going head to head with Trent in a fight. It was enough to calm her—to almost make her smile.

  “Thank you,” she managed to whisper then drew in a steadying breath, one that made her voice stronger. “I’ll be in touch when I learn anything, okay?”

  “It’ll have to be okay,” Ethan conceded. “And I’ll check that address and get back to you later today.”

  Tamsyn said goodbye and severed the connection, feeling a little as if she’d cut off a lifeline. She was grateful for the distraction when the sound of tires on the graveled driveway drew her attention out the window. She watched as a now-familiar SUV pulled in next to her rental. An all new tightness replaced the pain that had been in her chest only moments ago as Finn stepped down from the vehicle and started toward the house.

  Ignoring her body’s sudden and unsettling awareness of him, she examined the question that now hovered foremost in her mind. Did some of the answers she sought lie with Finn Gallager?

  Six

  Finn approached the open front door not entirely sure what he was doing here. Lorenzo had asked for updates, but even that wasn’t enough of a reason to be virtually stalking Tamsyn Masters the way he was.

  She moved into the doorway just as he raised his hand to the frame to knock. Today she was dressed simply in strategically faded, snug blue jeans and a deep V-necked white T-shirt that hinted at the shell-pink bra she wore beneath. The soft swells of her breasts pushed against the fine cotton above the cups of her bra.

  Finn forced his eyes upward to her face. With her hair pulled back into a ponytail she looked younger, the dark marks under her eyes were a little more faded than they’d been the day before.

  “Hi,” he said. “I was just passing and thought I’d see if you needed anything in town.”

  A slow sweet smile pulled at Tamsyn’s lips.

  “That was thoughtful of you, but Penny’s actually given me quite a few things to take care of me for the next few days.”

  “Okay, great. That was good of her.” He searched for something else he could say to prolong the conversation. “Oh, and I thought I’d give you my number in case you need any help with anything around the house.”

  He yanked his card holder from the back of his jeans pocket and slid out a business card, handing it to her. She took it carefully, but her fingers still lightly grazed his. A flare of sudden and instant heat burned up his arm at her touch.

  “Thank you, although on first glance around here I don’t think I’ll need help with anything. Your neighbors appear to have been very self-sufficient.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Have you been the one feeding the animals?” she asked.

  “Yeah, the chickens are easier than that feline monster.”

  The monster in question padded down the hallway and sat down at Tamsyn’s feet, eyeing him with a baleful glare.

  “This one?” she asked, bending down to tickle it behind the ears. “Do you know its name?”

  “Lucy, short for Lucifer. In name and in nature. They thought she was a boy when they first got her and had to shorten her name when they discovered she was carrying a litter.”

  Finn watched in surprise as the wretched animal began to purr and nudge its head against Tamsyn’s hand.

  “Lucifer? For this cutie?” Tamsyn laughed. “That’s a touch harsh, don’t you think?”

  Maybe he’d misjudged the animal. It had only ever barely tolerated him. He bent down to give it a pat only to have Lucy’s ears flare back and her teeth bare as she hissed her displeasure at his presumption.

  “Nope, not harsh at all. Funny that she’s so tolerant of you. She usually only lets her owner and her daughter touch her.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth Finn wished them back. Of course Lucy would connect with Tamsyn. She was Ellen’s daughter, too.

  “Maybe she just prefers female company,” Tamsyn commented, oblivious to Finn’s discomfort.

  “That’s probably it.”

  “Did you want to stop in for a cup of coffee or something? I’m not quite sure where everything is yet, but I’m sure I can find it all.”

  Should he? Sure, why not. It was neighborly, after all.

  “That’d be great. While I’m here I can check the hot water is turned on for you. I know the property manager was going to take care of it, but they may not have gotten around to it yet.”

  “Oh, would you? That would be wonderful. I’d love nothing better than a long soak in that fabulous old bath tonight.”

  Finn’s body hardened at the visual image that flooded his mind. It took no stretch of the imagination to envisage the drape of her lean arms along the sides of the old claw-footed tub he knew resided in the bathroom. Or the delicate curve of her shoulders and the sweep of her collarbone glistening with scented bath oil.

  “Right,” he said, pulling himself together abruptly. “I’ll get onto it then.”

  “I’ll go and put the jug on,” she replied, stepping back from the doorway and ushering him inside.

  Lucy gave another short hiss at him before springing away and settling herself on the windowsill of the large front bay window.

  “The cylinder is in the old laundry off the
back porch,” Finn said by way of explanation as he followed her through to the kitchen.

  He unlocked the back door and stepped through the small porch to the door on the other side, reaching above the door frame for the key. He was as familiar with this house as he was with his own face in the mirror each morning. Lorenzo and Ellen had provided him a home here and despite his offers to build them something newer and more comfortable, they’d insisted they were happy in their small cottage, especially now that Alexis’s business was taking off, leading her to spend much of her time working from overseas.

  By the time he’d checked the cylinder he could hear the jug beginning to boil, the sound accompanied by Tamsyn’s light humming as she moved around the kitchen finding coffee and mugs.

  “You just have your coffee black, right?”

  He was impressed she’d both noticed and remembered. Her attention to detail was good—he needed to remind himself of that, and not to slip up the way he had earlier when he’d nearly mentioned Ellen and Alexis by name.

  “That’s right,” he answered, locking the laundry door behind him and returning the key to its spot.

  “You seem to know your way around here pretty well.”

  “We’ve been neighbors a long time. Plus, I’ve been watching the animals the past few weeks.”

  She gave a short laugh. “It’s a good thing that Lucy could tolerate you feeding her then.”

  “Cupboard love,” he commented in response. “Cats are well known for it.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Tamsyn replied as she added sugar and milk to her coffee. “We never had pets growing up.”

  “Not at all?”

  “No, our father didn’t think they had a place in our household. Occasionally a feral cat would have kittens on the property, but Dad always made sure they were rehomed before we could adopt any of them.”

  Finn thought of the farm dogs his father had always had, even after he’d downsized the stock running on the farm and begun to change his primary business over to growing grapevines. The animals had been as much of an extension of his life as Lorenzo and Ellen had been after his father died. Add to that his mother’s and Ellen’s procession of cats over the years and he couldn’t imagine growing up without a pet. He’d always imagined he’d have a couple of dogs when he finished building the house, but Briana had insisted she was allergic and since her departure, a year ago, he’d been too busy to do anything about it.

  “So where did you grow up that pets weren’t considered a necessary part of family life?” he asked, forcing a smile to try to soften his words.

  “It’s a property similar to where we lunched yesterday, although possibly a bit bigger. We have a vineyard and winery, restaurant and wedding venue, plus luxury cottage accommodation. Of course, when I was little it was just the vineyard and winery and on a much smaller scale. Dad’s family were still working really hard to reestablish what they’d lost after a devastating bushfire when he was in his early twenties. The whole family had to start from scratch.”

  “Sounds like hard work.”

  “I guess it was. We didn’t know any different, though, growing up. And all of us, my brother and my cousins, we all knew we’d be a part of it one day. Each of us has had their place in the family business basically grow around them and their interests.”

  What she said didn’t quite gel with the image he’d always had of her. He’d imagined her living off the luxury, not working hard to be a part of bringing it about. It roused his curiosity even further.

  “And you? What about your place and your interests?”

  Tamsyn picked up her spoon and began absently stirring her coffee.

  “That doesn’t matter now,” she said, her voice empty of emotion.

  Clearly she didn’t want to talk about it, which only served to make Finn all the more determined to find out why. Even he knew when not to push, though. Softly, softly would be the best approach, he decided, taking a sip of the instant brew Tamsyn had poured for him.

  He pulled a face. “Remind me to show you how to use the espresso machine,” he said.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she admitted with an uncharacteristic giggle. “I’m not even sure it’s coffee.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to tip this out,” Finn said, brushing past her on the way to the kitchen sink.

  She’d moved toward the sink at the same time and his arm grazed the side of her breast. Not a deliberate move on his part but he wasn’t sorry, especially not when he saw her nipples pebble behind the lacy bra she was wearing and thrust against her shirt. This close to her, he heard her breath catch in her throat. Knowing she was just as affected by his touch as he was by hers was gratifying.

  Her eyes were dark pools of confusion, her mouth still slightly parted on that gasp. It would only take a second to lean forward and capture those lips with his. To test their softness, to tease a response from her. The air thickened between them. Outside, he was aware of the rasp of cicadas in the garden, the lazy buzz of bees around the flower beds. Inside, he could hear nothing but his rapid heartbeat whooshing in his ears.

  Too soon. It was far too soon. She was a timid thing. Tentative, almost wounded. She needed to be drawn in slowly, to be tempted to take him as bait. He took one step back, then another, his body instantly mourning the nearness of hers.

  “I’ll be off then,” he said with as much control as he could muster. “I’d say thanks for the coffee, but…”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I know. Thank you for coming over and checking the hot water for me.”

  “No problem. If you like, I can call in tomorrow and show you how to use the espresso machine.”

  “I’d like that,” she replied, following him as he went out the front door.

  She stayed there on the front veranda, her hands shoved into the pockets at the front of her jeans, watching while he executed a neat turn and headed down the driveway. A sense of anticipation stole over him. Getting to know Tamsyn Masters better was proving to be more challenging than he’d anticipated. And more appealing. Far, far more appealing.

  Seven

  Tamsyn waited until Finn’s car was out of view before turning and going back into the cottage. The place felt still and empty without his presence. She chided herself for being fanciful as she went around the house opening windows to let in fresh air. Lucy had disappeared again, clearly off on an agenda of her own, which pretty much left Tamsyn to her own devices.

  Speaking of devices, she retrieved her mobile from her handbag and, after pouring herself a glass of water, she settled down on the front porch in a sagging wicker arm chair to see if her mother’s name came up in any local searches.

  An hour later she was feeling intensely frustrated. The only search information she’d turned up to date all related back to when her mother still lived in Adelaide, the most recent being her wedding announcement way back over thirty years ago, together with a grainy photo of her parents standing in the entrance to the church, followed by brief birth announcements in the newspaper when Ethan and Tamsyn were born. After that, nothing. Tamsyn stared at the wedding photo on her cell phone screen. The quality of the photo was poor, blurring their features into near obscurity. A bit like the dearth of information about Ellen Masters since. It was truly bizarre. Almost as if, in marrying John Masters, Ellen had dropped out of society and circulation and ceased to exist.

  Tamsyn scoured her memories for any hint of her mother that went past a vaguely remembered cuddle. The best she could muster was the sound of peals of laughter infused with the scent of freshly cut grass and the heat of summer sun. She gave up with a curse that startled the birds that had been pecking at the lawn. They lifted to the nearby trees with a flurry of wings and squawks of indignation.

  This was hopeless, she decided, closing the applications on her phone and picking
up her glass to take it back inside. Clearly she needed a face-to-face approach. She wondered if there was somewhere local where she could view an electoral roll or something like that. Perhaps the nearby town’s information center might be able to head her in the right direction.

  Tamsyn went back into the house and grabbed her keys. Eschewing closing all the windows again, she locked the front door and headed for her car.

  The drive into town was quiet; in fact, she hardly saw another vehicle on the road until she got within town limits. She eased her car into a space on a side street, near the boutique where she’d shopped yesterday, and got out. She vaguely remembered seeing an information center sign posted near the end of the main street and she struck out in that direction.

  It looked as if she was headed toward a small town hall. This was probably the hub of the immediate district’s social life in its day. Judging by the activity milling around there now—a mixed age group of people wearing loose clothing and carrying yoga mats, spilling out the front door—it was still equally well used. A large notice board out front attracted her attention and Tamsyn was surprised to see the list of activities available on various days. A bright notice stuck to one side caught her eye. It was an advertisement for a volunteer seniors’ activities coordinator to provide temporary cover one day a week in the lead-up to Christmas. Applicants were bidden to apply at the office.

  Tamsyn mulled over the notice. Once a week for five weeks? She could easily commit to that. It might take her that long to find her mother at this rate. Even if she found her sooner, she’d certainly want to spend time with her before going back to Adelaide.

  If she went back at all.

  The thought wasn’t as unsettling as it should have been. Instead, a kernel of excitement began to cautiously unfurl within her at the thought of truly starting over fresh. She reached out to take the notice from the board and walked up the steps leading to the front of the hall. Nerves assailed her as she lifted her hand to knock at the door marked Office. This was the first job she’d ever actually applied for. In the past she’d always worked at The Masters in one field or another. Odd jobs while she was at school, and subsequently, during her semester breaks while she was at university. Once she graduated, she took over developing and managing the accommodation cottages, eventually expanding to special events and weddings. She’d never once had to face rejection in the course of her work.