by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
Standing, she moved to the door and picked her way through the overgrown lawn and wild garden down to John’s cottage. Rick’s cottage. A path had been worn through the undergrowth to it during the last few weeks.
With her heart in her throat, she reached beneath the step and her fingers curled around the key. She rose and inserted it into the lock. She pushed open the door and...
Her eyes filled with hot tears. Her throat burned. Rick was gone. As she’d known he would be, but...
Some crazy thread of hope had remained alive inside her, hoping to still find him here, hoping he’d ignored her demand that he leave.
She halted on the threshold for a few seconds before forcing herself inside the room. She immediately pressed her hands to her eyes and pulled in a breath. If she inhaled deeply enough, concentrated hard enough, she could still catch the faintest trace of him in the air—a scent she couldn’t begin to describe, but it had his teasing dark eyes and wicked grin rising up in front of her.
A breeze wafted through the door behind her, disturbing the scent and amalgamating it with the perfume of warm grass and native frangipani instead.
No! She leapt to slam the door, but it was too late. All that registered now were smells from the garden.
She wanted to drop to the floor and pound her fists against it. She didn’t. She forced herself to inspect the entire cottage—all of it neat and clean. She didn’t even have the garbage to take out. Rick had done it before he’d left.
Nothing.
Not even a note.
‘What on earth did you expect?’ she whispered.
This was always how it was going to end—with Rick riding off into the sunset.
Without her.
With stinging eyes, she walked back through the cottage and locked the door behind her. She didn’t replace the key beneath the veranda. There didn’t seem to be any point.
* * *
Rick paced through Tash’s currently deserted house and tried to make sense of the conflicting impulses raging through him—the urge to run and the urge to stay. The urge to jump into his car and drive until he was too tired to drive any more. Or the urge to race over to Nell’s house, take her into his arms and kiss her until she swore she’d never send him away again.
His chin lifted. He started for the door.
What can a guy like you offer a girl like Nell Smythe-Whittaker?
He slid to a halt with a curse and went back to pacing.
Do something to deserve her.
Like what? He planted his hands on his hips and glared about the room. How on earth could he do that? How the hell could he prove to her that he meant to stick around? How—
For a moment everything stilled and then he slapped a hand to his forehead and planted himself in front of Tash’s computer. He typed ‘How to start a business’ into the search engine.
And he started making notes.
* * *
It took Rick two days to register Bradford’s Restorations with the business bureau, to obtain an Australian Business Number and to have business cards printed. He bought a van and organised for a sign writer. He bought tools. He hired someone to design him a website. He barely slept three hours a night.
Surely a business would convince Nell he meant to stay, would prove to her he was serious about making something of himself?
She’d believe it more if you had family ties in the area.
He swallowed and turned to the phone. Family? Poppy? What if Poppy rejected him? He swung away to throw himself down on the sofa and drag both hands back through his hair, his lungs cramping.
What if she doesn’t?
The voice that whispered through him sounded suspiciously like Nell’s. He stared at the phone again. Swallowing, he pulled Marigold’s business card from his wallet and dialled the number.
‘Hello?’
The voice was female and he had to fight the urge to slam the phone down. ‘I, uh...’ He cleared his throat. ‘May I speak with Marigold Somers please?’
‘Yes, speaking.’
He swallowed again. ‘Mrs Somers, my name is Rick Bradford and I...’ How did one say it—I’m your daughter’s brother? ‘You met my friend Nell Smythe-Whittaker at the park the other day.’
‘Rick!’ He heard the catch in her voice. ‘I’m so glad you called. I’ve told Poppy all about you and we’re dying to meet you.’
His throat tightened at the warmth in her voice. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Come for dinner, please? We’d love you to.’
Her eagerness and sincerity made his heart thump.
‘Promise you’ll come. Tomorrow night?’
His eyes burned. He stared up at the ceiling and blinked hard. ‘I...you’re sure?’
‘Positive.’
They made a time. He rang off and then he didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to go and find Nell and tell her what he’d done and have her assure him it was the right thing to do.
You haven’t earned her yet.
He pulled a receipt from his pocket—a copy of the one Mitch had retrieved for Nell. It was time to see a jeweller about a ring.
CHAPTER TWELVE
NELL GLANCED THROUGH her dream folder, sipped a glass of wine and tried to find the tiniest hint of excitement.
And failed.
Closing the folder, she rubbed her fingers across her brow. Her zest for life would return. Other people recovered from broken hearts, didn’t they?
She glanced at the kitchen clock. Was six o’clock on a Saturday evening too early to go to bed?
A knock sounded on the front door. She glanced towards the hallway without the tiniest flicker of interest. Maybe whoever it was would go away if she ignored it.
Another knock.
Ignoring it won’t help you get over a broken heart.
She pulled a face, but all the same she forced herself to her feet to answer it.
Smile.
She pasted one on before opening the door.
The smile slid straight off again. Her heart gave such a big kick she had to reach out and cling to the door to remain upright. ‘Rick?’ she whispered.
‘Hey, Princess.’
Those dark eyes smiled down at her, the mouth hooked up, and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms.
Now there was a sure-fire way to embarrass herself.
‘I... I...’ She swallowed. ‘I thought you’d left Sydney.’ Why had he come back?
For her?
Oh, don’t be deluded and pathetic. Nonetheless her pulse raced and her palms grew slick. Very carefully she released her grip on the door and wiped them down the sides of her yoga pants.
Her rattiest yoga pants. Why couldn’t she be wearing one of her fifties-inspired dresses?
He shifted his weight. ‘I never left. I’ve been staying with Tash.’
‘Oh.’
Oh!
So he knew then? She swallowed and gestured him inside. ‘Come on in. I was just having a glass of wine. Would you care for one?’
It took a superhuman effort, but she found her manners and managed not to sound stilted. Well done her!
‘That sounds great.’
Now, if only she could pour him a glass without her hand shaking.
She didn’t believe she could pull that off so she poured it with her back to him while managing a breezy, ‘Take a seat.’ She turned. ‘Oh, and help yourself to a cupcake.’ And she gestured to the tin on the table, which averted his gaze from the way her hand shook when she set his wine in front of him.
She sat. She twisted her hands in her lap. She didn’t want to talk about her father. She didn’t want to find out that Rick felt beholden to her in some way. ‘How long are you
planning to stay in Sydney?’ she asked instead, determined that her stupidly optimistic heart should know the truth asap.
His grin lost its cockiness. He swallowed. It made her swallow too. ‘I’m, um...planning on sticking around.’
Her fingernails dug into her palms. He’s not hanging around for you!
‘Why?’ The word croaked out of her. She didn’t want it to. She’d do anything to recall it, but she couldn’t.
His eyes darkened. ‘Damn, this is awkward.’
He could say that again.
He drew in a breath. He stood. He came around the table to where she sat and dropped to one knee in front of her. She almost fell off her chair. ‘Nell, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it. Her grandmother’s diamond ring winked back at her and some instinct told her this was no copy.
‘Will you do me the great honour of marrying me?’
He was offering her everything she wanted!
She closed her eyes, counted to three and opened them again. The ring still hovered there, winking at her with all of its promise. Her throat and chest burned. Her eyes stung. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, Rick, I won’t marry you.’
* * *
Rick stumbled to his feet, a darkness he’d never experienced before threatening to descend around him. He stumbled around the table and back into his chair because he didn’t have the strength to make it all the way to the front door.
‘Tash was wrong.’
He couldn’t believe his voice could emerge so normally while everything inside him crumbled.
‘Tash?’
Nell’s voice didn’t come out normally at all, but strangled and full of tears. Damn it all to hell! He wished he could rewind the last five minutes and erase them. But he couldn’t and he was too tired to lie. Nell might not love him, but she’d never be cruel. ‘She told me you were in love with me.’
‘She wasn’t wrong.’
It took a moment for him to make any sense of that. When he did a shaft of light pushed the darkness back. He straightened. ‘What did you just say?’
Her green eyes suddenly flashed. She leapt up and slashed both hands through the air. She paced to the sink, gripped it till her knuckles turned white and then swung back to stab a finger at him. Her hand shook and he wanted to capture it in his and never let it go.
‘If you’ve been staying with Tash then you know what my father threatened.’ Her hands slammed to her hips, the long line of her leg clearly defined in those stretchy pants, and his mouth dried. He tried to keep his mind on what she said rather than how she looked...and how much he wanted to ravish her.
‘Which means you know I put Whittaker House on the market.’
‘To save my skin!’
‘Which means you also know,’ she went on as if he hadn’t spoken, ‘that Mitch provided me with information to finally, once and for all, defeat my father.’
He didn’t know where she was going with this—just that the pain in her eyes tore at him. He gave a wary nod.
‘Damn it, Rick! I don’t want a husband who marries me because he feels beholden to me.’
His jaw dropped. ‘I don’t feel beholden to you.’ He loved her!
She gave a laugh. ‘Oh, right.’
He opened his mouth.
‘You’ve been playing white knight all your life. As a boy you tried to protect all the kids in the neighbourhood, you took the blame and went to prison for one of those friends. Heaven only knows how many women you’ve rescued from untenable situations since then. You specialise in damsels.’
He swallowed. Everything she said was true, but...
‘I’m just the latest in a long line. Well, I don’t want to be a defenceless female. I want to be strong enough to deal with my own problems.’
‘You are. You have!’ He didn’t see her as someone who needed rescuing.
‘And I don’t want a white knight!’ she shouted. ‘When I marry I want it to be an equal partnership.’
‘Damn it, Nell.’ He leapt to his feet. ‘Can’t you see that I’m not the white knight here? You are!’
Her jaw dropped. He passed a hand across his eyes. ‘You are,’ he muttered, falling back into his chair.
Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. She stood there, staring at him as if she didn’t know what to do, what to say or if to believe him.
‘I’ve spent the last week trying to do things to earn you—to prove to you that I’m worthy of you.’
She plonked down on her chair as if the air had left her body. She reached for her glass of wine, but she didn’t drink from it.
‘I’m in the process of establishing my own restoration building company. I’m hoping to interview potential employees next week.’
She blinked. ‘I... Congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’ He nodded. ‘I rang Marigold and I’ve met Poppy. In fact I’ve met the whole family.’
Her glass slammed to the table. She leaned towards him. ‘How did it go?’
It almost made him smile. ‘Pretty well. She’s great. In fact her whole family is great.’ His gaze captured hers. ‘She’s not a damsel either.’
Nell sat back. ‘No, she’s not.’
Steel stiffened his backbone. ‘And neither are you. You’re a lot of things—maddening, stubborn, generous to a fault and optimistic in the face of all evidence to the contrary—but the one thing you’re not is useless.’
Her eyes filled with tears and he ached to go to her, to pull her into his arms, but then she smiled and it was like a rainbow. ‘I know.’
Something inside him unclenched.
She frowned. ‘You aren’t either.’
He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head to his hands. ‘Princess, I’ve always been able to save other people, but I’ve never been able to save myself.’
‘Oh, Rick!’
And then she was on his lap and in his arms. He pressed his face into her neck and breathed her in. ‘You saved me, Princess.’ She ran a hand back through his hair and then her arms went about his shoulders and she held him so tight he could feel the broken bits of himself start to come back together.
He drew back to touch a hand to her face. ‘You believed in me so strongly that you made me believe in myself again.’
She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re wonderful! You should believe in yourself.’
‘Nobody has ever been so completely on my side before you came along.’
‘There are lots of people on your side.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Tash and Mitch and all your friends, and now Poppy and her family. You just won’t let yourself see it. You’re afraid of not being the strong one everyone else can rely on.’
Was that true?
‘I went to Tash and Mitch for advice about the fake ring. Do you think that makes me weaker or less strong?’
‘Hell, no! It shows how smart you are to approach the people who have the expertise you need.’
She raised an eyebrow.
His heart thumped. Slowly he nodded. ‘There can be strength in reaching out and asking for the help you need.’
‘Precisely.’
In that moment a spark of light lit him up from the inside, so bright it almost blinded him. He ran his hands slowly up her back and she shivered. ‘Princess, you’re in my lap.’
She grinned at him. ‘Would you like me to get up?’
‘Not a chance.’
She laughed and then gasped when he shifted her a fraction so she could feel what she did to him. ‘Oh.’ Her eyes widened. She wriggled against him. ‘Ooh.’
He bit back a groan. ‘Steady, Princess. Not yet.’
Her face fell. ‘Why
not?’
He tried for mock stern but probably failed. ‘There’s another couple of things we need to clear up.’
She bit her lip and then nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘You gave me the courage to reach for my dream again.’
‘It only seems fair. You’re giving me the chance to chase mine.’
‘I want to have a family that’s the polar opposite from the one I had growing up. I want to do that with you, Nell. Not because I feel I owe you or because I think you need a man in your life to look after you, but because I love you.’ A tear hovered on one of her eyelashes. He wanted to kiss it away. ‘I need to know if you believe me.’
She took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. He felt exposed in a way he never had before, but he didn’t look away. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do believe you. I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who could convince you to settle down. You kept telling me how different we were and—’
He touched a finger to her lips. ‘I was fighting what I felt for you.’
She nodded. ‘I know that now, but when you proposed I was too afraid to believe it was for real.’ She brushed his hair back from his forehead. ‘But I’m not afraid any more, Rick.’ And then she leaned forward and touched her lips to his and they kissed so fiercely and with all of their hearts that they were both breathing hard when they finally broke apart.
He tried to get the racing of his blood under control. ‘So you’ll marry me?’
‘Yes.’
He slipped her grandmother’s ring onto her finger. She stared at it and then covered it with her other hand and pressed it to her heart. ‘How did you find it?’
‘I approached the jeweller who’d sold it on behalf of your grandparents and tracked down the buyer. I made an offer to buy it back and he accepted.’
‘I bet you paid twice what it was worth.’
More or less. ‘I wanted to give you a ring that meant something special to you.’
She twisted around to face him more fully. ‘I don’t need fancy rings or fast cars or pretty clothes.’
She mightn’t need them, but he meant to lavish her with all that and more.
‘I don’t even need this house.’
