‘OK, Eliza. Maybe I haven’t been fair to you at times but I’m trying now. I think we’ve been through too much together to act like we’re strangers and pretend there’s nothing between us.’
Eliza was implacable. ‘There is nothing between us, Jack.’
‘I’d like to take your word for that but I’m not so sure any more.’
Jack paused for a moment and looked around at the trees and the paddocks stretching away from this little woman who was growing so large in his life. He wasn’t sure what he wanted but he knew they couldn’t just be friends any more.
‘You’re being hard on me, Eliza. Without getting in too deep, you could let me show you the other side of me. Despite how I tried to bury it, there’s more to me than being Bellbrook’s only doctor.’
‘Heaven forbid we get in too deep, Jack. I’m not sure there is more to Jack than the doctor.’
‘Give me a chance. Come to my house.’ He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, like a kid asking for a treat.
‘What if someone sees me, Jack? I thought you wanted to keep our non-relationship a secret?’
‘I’m sorry I said that.’ At least he now had the chance to say it. ‘I have been sorry for a week but you’ve never let me near you. What we have, if it is a relationship or the beginning of one, is very young, and brittle, and easily damaged. I just didn’t think you needed the well-intentioned interest of my many friends and relatives. I know I didn’t.’ He went on, persuasively, ‘I’ll make you dinner, so you can’t say I just want a free feed. I’ve done my crying so I won’t need your shoulder. And the sex is something we could discuss later.’
Her eyes widened in disbelief and he laughed. ‘I was just baiting you. We don’t have to discuss sex at all.’
They didn’t need to discuss it. Just the mention of the word and the air became charged between them. Desire lay there between them like a big, soft, bouncy feather bed and both of them knew it. The searing memories had been there ever since that explosion of emotion and heat in Dulcie’s tiny kitchen.
He hurried on. ‘You could see my house. You must have wondered where and how I lived. What I do in my free time?’
‘Never thought of it.’ This time he knew she’d lied because she looked away and then back at him with reluctance.
‘Really?’ He said mockingly. Caught you there, he thought, with the first glimmer of hope that this visit wouldn’t be a complete failure.
Eliza tapped her knee for Roxy to come back to her and prepared to turn back to the house. ‘You really do have tickets on yourself.’
She was running away and Jack couldn’t let her. ‘Well somebody has to vote for me when you obviously don’t think I’m anything special.’
Eliza snorted. ‘This whole town thinks the sun shines out of your…armpit. You don’t need me to join them.’
She was waiting for the dog and then she was going to walk away from him. He needed to have the last word and get out of here with the upper hand. ‘I’m not going to bicker with you, Eliza. You are invited to tea tomorrow night. I will expect you at eight.’ He hoped she couldn’t tell it was more bravado than expectation, but he had to try.
Eliza scoffed. ‘Don’t eat lunch as you might have two meals left over from your tea.’
She’d said ‘might’. That was promising, he thought as he watched her walk away.
Sunday saw Eliza driving to Armidale with the top down and the wind blowing her troubles away. Except it didn’t work. She’d hoped if she left the valley she’d get away from the memories of Jack.
Of course, she took him with her. Every bend in the road, every mountain she passed, every cloud in the sky made her think of the ups and downs of her relationship with Jack.
By the end of the day, when she turned back into Dulcie’s driveway, she still didn’t know what to do.
At seven-thirty Eliza stood indecisively in front of the mirror. So much had happened in the last few weeks, so many poignant events, emotion and heartache, and tonight could spell more drama. Should she give Jack one more chance to show promise for a future together or should she shield herself from the chance of more hurt?
The trouble was, the last thing she wanted to do was look back in years to come and regret not listening to him, just once.
If she went to dinner she wasn’t committing herself to Jack for life. She doubted they could ever be just friends. It didn’t feel like that. She felt finely balanced on the edge of something she wasn’t sure she wanted and certainly didn’t trust could be long-lasting. She wasn’t quite back to the point of hoping something good could come of this.
The clock ticked and she wavered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN Jack opened the door, Eliza knew she was late but she was glad she’d taken the extra time to iron her favourite dress. It was emerald green and rustled when she walked, and she chose to wear it when she was feeling in need of extra strength. Eliza had never needed strength as much as she needed it tonight.
Jack’s eyes widened appreciatively and he had a hidden smile, as if he’d found something especially pleasing.
‘Come in, Eliza. You look beautiful and I’m so glad you came.’ He showed her through the black-and-white-tiled entry into a book filled room that was a time warp of country life. Tapestry floral chairs, dark wood walls and rose-coloured carpets on the polished wooden floor all reflected from the huge wooden-framed mirror above the fireplace.
Jack’s glance brushed over her again and she had no doubt of her welcome. ‘I have a small present for you. I was going to give you this later but in view of your attire, I can’t wait,’ he said.
She’d never seen him like this—playful, at ease in his surroundings, the country gentleman.
He crossed to an old-fashioned dresser and lifted a cloth-wrapped pouch about the size of a small pineapple, which looked quite heavy. ‘When I saw this, I knew I had to buy it for you.’
When she pulled the ribbon, the cloth fell away from a glass snowball sitting on top of a beautifully wrought wooden carving. The fairy inside the snowball was dressed in a billowing green frock very similar to Eliza’s dress and she had bright green eyes, red hair and delicate silver wings.
Eliza laughed and shook the snow in the ball. The fairy seemed to smile at her. ‘Thank you. I’ve always loved these ornaments.’
‘I’m glad.’ He looked enormously pleased that she liked it. ‘I think of you as the Queen of the Fairies.’
Eliza raised her eyebrows. ‘And who are you?’
‘Me?’ He touched his chest. ‘I’m hoping to be the handsome prince but something tells me you’ve picked me for an ogre.’
‘Spare me. Please, not the martyr.’ She looked away from him. ‘So show me your home.’
Jack shrugged but there was pride in his glance around. ‘As you can see, it hasn’t changed much since my mother was alive. I’m not really into modern furniture and I have a fetish for polishing old wood. I find it soothing.’
He looked a little embarrassed at the admission and Eliza couldn’t help teasing him.
‘You make a very handsome housewife.’ Eliza said, impressed despite herself. ‘Are you sure you don’t have a cleaning lady?’
He shook his head. ‘Would you like to see my ironing basket? Ironing doesn’t turn me on at all.’
She knew what turned him on. My word, she did. Simple, irrelevant choice of words, but the connotations vibrated around the room so that Eliza could almost hear the clanging of danger signals.
They walked through to a glassed-in summer-room that overlooked the river and in the distance the Bellbrook Inn. An old-fashioned swing seat was positioned to capture the best of the rural view over the paddocks, the little sheds on the hills, dotted animals and the winding river.
This room was less formal but still bore the marks of an organised person. Eliza could tell this was his favourite part of the house. He gestured to the seat and she sat primly as far away from him as she could.
Conversation w
ould be a good start, Eliza thought, shifting nervously. ‘So, what do you do when you’re not saving lives, Dr Dancer?’
‘I play at farming but admit one of my cousins does the real farm maintenance. I like to fish, I eat my way around my relatives as a social butterfly, and I sit here and watch the world go by from the safety of my seat. Or I did before you came along.’
He began to swing gently and she wanted him to stop so she could concentrate on the situation. Why did men immediately have to start swinging as if they wanted to take off—couldn’t they just ease into a slow glide? She dragged her feet to slow him down and he shot her a wicked glance and slowed to barely rocking.
‘Going too fast for you, Eliza?’
‘Hmm,’ she said wryly, aware of his double meaning and not happy he could bait her so easily.
Eliza forced her shoulders to relax and looked out over the bluff at the view. She would prefer it if he didn’t know just how nervous she felt, but couldn’t hope he’d miss it. ‘So this is how you saw Carla and I swimming that day.’
‘And where I saw the fellow get stung the day before.’
She sniffed. ‘So you say. I’m not sure that really happened.’ She looked at him from under her brows. ‘I think you just wanted to evict us from your river.’
‘Nobody owns the river—or other people. You don’t have to be afraid of me, Eliza.’
That was the problem, Eliza thought. She was the one with unrealistic yearnings. ‘It’s not you I’m afraid of.’
The silence lengthened as he caught her gaze and held it.
Then he smiled and it was the sweetest smile she’d ever seen. It tore a gentle hole in the fear around her heart like a feather through a spider web.
He leant across and touched her lips gently with his finger and then stood up. The spell broke and she blinked to reorientate herself. How could a smile make her forget everything she’d promised herself? It was as if he’d kissed her!
‘I’ll just get the entrées and the champagne,’ he said, as if nothing had happened.
Eliza fanned the heat in her face with her fingers but she didn’t have as much time as she’d hoped to unscramble her brain.
A drinks trolley preceded him through the doorway. It was laden with tiny dishes of prawns and olives, and toothpicks with chicken and satay, and a big silver ice bucket with champagne and two glasses.
Eliza felt like an extra in the seduction scene. She didn’t want to be the star. She tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Your mother taught you well.’
‘I like to have everything to hand. I hope you don’t mind eating here instead of at the table?’
She shook her head. The view was incredible and Jack had brought napkins and side plates.
They sat on the swing and nibbled on juicy prawns and tangy chicken and he encouraged her to at least sip the champagne.
But she still knew so little of his past.
‘So tell me about the young Jack. What happened to your parents?’
He traced her shoulder with his fingertip and the sensation ran through her as he talked. She wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. ‘Mum and Dad died five years ago. They had a lot of trouble having kids—apparently it’s genetic on my mother’s side, but only passed down through daughters. She miscarried frequently and I can remember thinking that she should stop trying to have babies and just concentrate on me. She pretty well did except for those times when she was so incredibly sad at losing another child.
‘Christmases with Mum started with church in the morning, presents when we came home and then she would cook and cook until the table would groan with the weight of turkeys and hams and rumballs and white Christmas cake and every vegetable, every fruit, punch bowls of fabulous non-alcoholic punch. We’d have ten or twenty for Christmas lunch, all relatives or friends so that Mum would feel there were enough people to share with.’
She squeezed his hand to hear more and he went on.
‘My father was a simple man, incredibly intelligent but secure with his farm and his family and amazing with animals and their illnesses. When I grew older I realised he’d trained himself to be a vet just by reading books and connecting with the animals.
‘When I was at uni I’d bring home my medical books and we’d sit and try to figure out something I couldn’t understand. He’d read it once and be able to explain it to me so that I understood.
‘I’d say to him that he could have been anything and he’d say what more could he want to be?’
‘They sound amazing.’ Eliza compared Jack’s wonderful home with her own and vowed her children would look back on their childhood like Jack could.
‘I was very fortunate.’
Eliza squeezed his hand. ‘What happened?’
‘Dad was older than mum, he was eighty-two when he died. I found him leaning up against the bench in the work shed. He’d just slumped there and died when his heart gave out.’
‘And your mother?’
Jack sighed. ‘She’d had a lump in her breast that she’d told no one about, least of all her son, the doctor. Not long after Dad passed away she became sick and it was too late.’
‘A year later I met my wife towards the end of uni and we married quickly, but that wasn’t so good. I imagine Mary has told you what happened.’
Eliza nodded. ‘One day you could tell me more but not now.’
He nodded. ‘Mary is the sister I never had and Mick is my best friend.’
‘Now there’s you.’ His voice was gentle as if he knew she considered flight. ‘We connected from the first moment—didn’t we, Eliza?’
She didn’t answer for a moment because the simple question was loaded with extra weight—deep undercurrents that had appeared from nowhere. He didn’t hurry her but she knew he was waiting for her answer.
She sighed. So this was it. Which way should she go? Keep fighting or let him in a little? But how would she stop? She couldn’t lie. ‘Yes, we did.’
‘Was it the suddenness that shocked you, too?’ he said quietly.
Eliza remembered her first sight of Jack and how she’d denied the chance of attraction so fiercely to herself. Eliza nodded but inside that huge bubble of fear and trepidation and disbelief was being melted by the warmth of his shoulder rubbing warmly against her and it felt so right. What she felt couldn’t be a mistake.
Now the touch of even his shirtsleeve seemed to have a life of its own by creating a field of energy between them.
Jack took her hand and drew it over into his lap and her fingers felt as if they glowed when he held them like that. She could see so many promises in his face but maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. She felt incredibly aware of him as the silence lengthened and she had no control as the feeling built up.
This was all about touch and connection and without conscious thought her finger lifted and outlined his black brows and strong cheekbones.
He caught her fingers and kissed her palm, all the while not taking his eyes off her face, and she shuddered.
‘This is what I am afraid of,’ she said quietly. ‘What if I let all this out and we connect like this and then you run away?’
‘I would never do that—could never do that—once I gave you my heart.’
‘Have you, Jack? Have you given me your heart?’ Eliza ran her hand across his shoulder and down his arm. Just to touch him. In reassurance that he was really there and this was really happening.
‘Yes.’ His voice was very deep and she felt the goose-bumps rise on her arms.
It was too sudden. Too confusing. ‘How long have you felt like this?’ She needed to understand how this could happen.
He was watched her face as if willing her to believe him. ‘It began on that first day. You had my heart as soon as you stared at me with those amazing eyes of yours. I thought you glowed like an angry fairy and when I looked into your eyes I couldn’t breathe.’
Eliza shook her head. ‘You were brusque.’
‘I was in denial.’
/>
She smiled. ‘I know that feeling and I’ve been fighting it.’
‘What about the way you responded to my kiss at Dulcie’s?’
She blushed and he smiled at her confusion. ‘That surprised us both, I think.’
‘I don’t know where that came from,’ Eliza said.
His eyes darkened. ‘Somewhere elemental, I should think. I’ve never experienced that loss of control before, like being sucked into a vortex.’ His eyes caught hers. ‘I think about that day a lot.’
She, calm and steady Eliza, was way out of her comfort zone. ‘What are you doing to me, Jack? I can’t believe how I’m feeling at the moment. It’s too big to imagine you as the other half of me. How could we work together for these weeks and not have felt like this the whole time?’
He grimaced. ‘We had walls up for protection, and past hurts, and other people needing us more than we could spare to give to ourselves.’ He shrugged. ‘Baggage. Fear our feelings wouldn’t be returned.’ He dragged her across so she was sitting in his lap, and the swing chair made protesting noises at the unevenness of the weight.
They both laughed and the naturalness was such a wonder to Eliza she felt as if Jack had placed a spell on her—and she was supposed to be the magical one.
‘Do you feel strange?’ she asked him quietly.
He grinned back at her. ‘Like Christmas morning as a kid, or waking up on your birthday, or your best friend has come to play and you’ve been waiting all morning and finally they are here and just as excited?’
‘Yes.’ Eliza thought about it. ‘All of those.’
‘Well, you should be excited because we have the most amazing future ahead of us.’ Eliza fought down the fear that she couldn’t quite let go of. It wouldn’t be like before, he meant what he said, and the feel of him against her could only be honest.
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