Holly's Heart

by Fiona McArthur

  When he arrived she waited, stoically, at the door to the homestead, watching him lift the huge handled basket of multi-coloured miniature roses, all in pots under the basket for planting, and as he crossed the grass between them she tried to hide the pleased expression on her face.

  ‘Happy birthday, Gran.’ He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  ‘What are these for?’ The pleasure coming through in her voice told him he’d chosen well.

  ‘You were talking about a small rose garden around the fountain. I thought you might like these. I could dig it for you today, if you like?’

  She looked the basket over approvingly and gently touched one of the buds. ‘Trying to wheedle yourself into my good graces?’

  ‘Always.’

  ‘Then I forgive your tardiness. But I still want to hear the excuse.’ They turned and started towards the house.

  ‘Over a cup of coffee, perhaps?’

  They walked through the tiled foyer to the sunroom, though it was more of a conservatory, with plants and clay floor tiles and wood-framed glass walls that looked out over the paddocks, and he put the basket onto the wrought-iron side table.

  The room was a sun trap for the cold days and a leafy delight to relax in.

  His grandmother nodded approvingly at the picture the flowers made. ‘You won’t be getting just coffee. Lacey has made date scones and shortbread. And a very nice savoury quiche.’

  ‘So, you and your new housekeeper are suited?’

  His grandmother looked at him under severe brows. ‘And why would we not be?’

  The last three hadn’t been. ‘No idea,’ he said blandly.

  They sat in their usual seats, she on the floral recliner and he on the larger man-sized leather chair that used to be his grandfather’s.

  His grandmother lowered her voice. ‘She’s excellent company, though she seems to find amusement in the oddest things.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that. You can never have too many smiles.’ Ben leaned in and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m glad. You’ve been in this house alone too long.’

  She snatched her hand away. ‘And whose fault is that? You need to get married.’ She glared at him. ‘And give me great-grandchildren before I die.’

  He’d heard it before, but this time he couldn’t help thinking of Holly. Holly who made his heart sing and his body thrum worse than ever now, and already cared for two young boys whom he suspected his grandmother would enjoy. A family with Holly had seemed so out of reach—until yesterday. In for a penny …

  ‘That was why I was late. I offered some help to Holly Peterson. She’s buying a camper trailer and needed advice.’

  ‘Holly Peterson? The coffee shop girl?’ His grandmother’s nose wrinkled. ‘She lost her sister recently didn’t she? So sad for those little boys.’ Gran wrinkled her nose. ‘She grew up here, didn’t she?’

  Ben had no desire to remind his grandmother that Holly had been the girl who broke his heart at the end of school.

  ‘Yes. She went away and studied medicine as well. Different university. She’s adopted her sister’s twin boys, so she has the coffee shop for the shorter work hours.’

  ‘Strange choice of job for a doctor.’ His grandmother didn’t look convinced. ‘Did she get struck off?’

  Ben suppressed the spurt of hot denial. Breathed once and shook his head. ‘No. Gran. Holly was emotionally drained from losing her sister and decided she could be a better parent if she moved away from the emergency department she was working in.’

  His grandmother studied him. ‘You seem to know a lot about this woman.’

  ‘Holly is my friend. I like her. Have always liked her.’

  Now she narrowed her eyes. ‘She’s not the one? The one you wanted all those years ago when you were too young to know your own mind.’

  To hell with it, Ben thought. ‘Seems I did know my own mind.’

  ‘That serious, is it?’ His grandmother looked a little worried, which was crazy when she’d just been saying he should have children.

  ‘No. Holly isn’t ready for a relationship. But I hope it will be serious one day.’

  His grandmother sighed. ‘I remember her.’ Her mouth opened then shut again. Footsteps directed her thoughts elsewhere. ‘Ah. Lacey. Perfect timing.’

  Ben stood up to take the tray from the housekeeper, but she shook her head. Lacey Jerome, a tall willowy brunette with classic features and bright-green eyes, met the world with amusement. More of a companion than housekeeper, though she did both with flair and good humour. She’d flown in from Perth with an apparent urge to see the eastern states. Lacey painted watercolour postcards, which she sold online. Her inspiration came from long drives and rambling walks on her days off with her camera.

  The rest of the time she very efficiently ran Brierly Park and kept his grandmother happy. The difference to Mrs Brierly’s mood in that brief time was nothing short of miraculous. Ben had no idea why such a young, attractive woman would be doing the job she was, but he was very glad his grandmother liked her. The whole house had taken on a calmness and welcome it had lacked since his grandfather died.

  ‘Hello, Ben. I’ll put the tray down. Thank you.’ She gave him a smile and glanced at the basket of miniature roses. ‘How lovely.’

  ‘I have to plant them after morning tea.’

  ‘Excellent. Less watering for me.’

  Ben laughed. His grandmother loved indoor plants but had never felt responsible for the watering. He settled, suddenly starving, fiercely glad he had begun to mention Holly, and that Lacey had taken the pressure off him with impeccable timing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Holly

  It was past seven that night when Ben reversed the little camper trailer into Holly’s garage. Despite summer sunset still approaching, the boys had fallen asleep.

  They’d spent the morning poring over the caravan, letting Eric show them where he stowed things and how everything worked. Pat had even devised a way that, balanced on two of the sturdy camping chairs, the boys could stand each side of Holly inside the van and they could all push up to pop the roof without Holly having to do all the work.

  Eric had declared he’d had a delightful morning and Moira had offered them sandwiches while they sorted the last of the gear. It had been lunchtime afterall by then.

  They hadn’t arrived home until two in the afternoon and the twins had still been so excited she took them to the park to kick the ball around. That did it.

  Both boys had drooped at the tea table and Holly had shooed them into the bath and pyjamas before they fell asleep at the table. By the time Ben arrived they were both snoring gently over the books they’d taken to bed to wait.

  ‘I’d thought they’d be panting to see your new adventure arrive home,’ Ben said after he’d pulled down the roller door.

  ‘They’re sitting up. With their eyes shut.’ She smiled at the thought of the extreme effort both boys had put in to staying awake. ‘They really tried. I’ve never seen them so excited. No doubt they’ll be unbearable tomorrow before school and want to stay home.’ They walked back across the yard to Holly’s apartment steps and climbed them.

  His brows creased as he studied her. ‘Are they unbearable often?’

  She shook her head. ‘They can get cranky and sad, but they always make my heart melt.’

  He nodded. ‘They’re very fortunate to have you.’

  She sighed. ‘And unfortunate to have lost their parents.’

  ‘That too.’

  Ben had lost his parents as well. ‘You’ve been there. I remember you saying your grandparents were good to you.’

  It was the first time she’d quoted something from their conversations back at school, but it felt right to go there at this moment.

  She remembered when the tragedy had happened. The new boy arriving at school in year two. The whispers that his parents had died, and Holly had gone home to hug her own mum fiercely that afternoon. Ben would understand more than anyone how the boys we
re feeling.

  He lifted his head and looked back in time. ‘It felt like a horrible dream and life at Brierly Park seemed very different. Like I’d turned into someone else. My grandparents were in their sixties, and I tried not to disrupt them. Everyone felt shattered by losing my mum and dad, and my grandfather told me once Gran would never recover. But she was kind to me in a stern way, and she believed children should be kept busy from dawn until dusk. When I wasn’t at school, I was out in the paddocks, and that helped. A lot.

  She imagined a heartbroken Ben, not much older than Tom and Pat, riding alone over the paddocks and her heart ached for him. Though she couldn’t remember much of eight-year-old Ben from that time, not really much until her teens and the incident on the way home when he’d leapt into her life in her defence. That picture shone clear and she looked at him now. Reached out and touched his hand and he turned his fingers and took hers.

  ‘We’ve known each other a long time.’

  ‘Yes, we have,’ she said as they walked up the steps to the landing. This Ben was tall, and strong and caring. A good friend. He hadn’t changed.

  Had she? Maybe it was time for a change. Time to let Ben in.

  She thought of last night and her lips curved. His hand was suddenly warmer around hers. He’d been an incredible lover, something she’d tried twice with other men in the past, and thought she’d failed dismally at, then decided she didn’t have time for.

  After last night with Ben she couldn’t help rethinking that concept very fast, despite her mind telling her everything should be about the boys.

  Ben opened the door for her and he touched her shoulder as she went past him. ‘You haven’t had it easy either. Lost your mum and your sister now. You know what it feels like as an adult, know it’s even worse for the boys.’

  She’d been eighteen when her mother had died and just starting uni. She’d felt shattered too, but she’d lost herself in her studies and hadn’t put her head up until Susan’s husband had become ill with the melanoma.

  Susan’s loss she didn’t want to think about. ‘There’s a lot of sadness and a lot of hurting people left out there.’ She looked at him. ‘And I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was when I chose a career that puts me in the firing line for all that grief.’

  Ben’s hands squeezed her shoulders. ‘Emergency department doesn’t have a lot of good vibe follow-up. That’s what I’m going to love about private practice in a small town.’

  She thought about that. ‘Maybe I should have gone straight into GP land when I graduated. But I loved the adrenalin rush of emergency. Though I may be cured of that now.’ She really didn’t want to go there.

  She shifted out from under his arm and crossed to the kitchen to switch on the jug. ‘Enough about that. What about you? How was your day? Did your grandmother have a nice birthday?’ She’d started to gabble again. He followed her and before she could move too far away from him he caught her hand. Stopped her. She had to turn.

  ‘May I kiss you?’ His voice low, teasing. ‘Just a hello kiss.’

  Since when was kissing Ben like saying ‘hello’?

  He smiled, an I-can’t-wait-to-hold-you smile with definite warmth in his eyes, and then added, probably to confuse her, ‘And yes, she did. My day had some wonderful moments.’

  Then he pulled her slowly back towards him until she rested gently against his chest, and the jug was forgotten. She could feel her heart pounding and it sped up even faster when they touched. She licked dry lips, trying to concentrate on the conversation. ‘Wonderful moments? Really?’

  ‘Well …’ He pretended to search for the highlights in his recent events. ‘It started magnificently around midnight last night …’

  Holly’s face flooded with heat and all the lovely memories tumbled in, just as he brought his head down and tasted her. Impeccable timing.

  He groaned under his breath, low and heartfelt, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all day. Then his arms tightened and he pulled her snugger against him, as if he couldn’t get near enough, if she was reading him right. That was how she felt anyway. He felt so good—how could she be addicted after one night?

  Closer, Holly found herself urging silently.

  His beautiful mouth moved against hers in a caress that sent a pillow-full of feathers goose bumping her body, and also sent her own hands up to his neck to lose themselves in his hair. The feel of the thick strands of his hair through her fingers elicited a soft moan she had no control over. Or it could have been the kiss. The man should be signposted as dangerous. Then he eased back, touched her lips one brief feather-light time more, and put her away from him with resolution.

  ‘Hello.’ His voice had deepened, but he took another step to widen the gap.

  Holly blinked. Felt the unwanted space between them and how lonely her lips were. ‘Hello.’

  ‘So, you asked about my day.’ He leaned his backside against the table and smiled at her. As if he hadn’t just melted all her defences in a single bound. Mischief lurking in his eyes. ‘My daylight day had many more moments that make me smile, starting with driving past a garage sale and I couldn’t believe my eyes.’ He cast a sideways glance at her. ‘A damsel in distress. My lucky morning.’

  Holly scrambled to keep up, to appear just as composed. ‘You surprised me, too. I thought you would already be at Brierly Park.’

  ‘I was late—a terrible sin—but made it up by digging in a very attractive miniature rose garden around my grandmother’s ancient fountain. She’s been hinting at me doing that since I came home.’

  He rolled his shoulders and winced. ‘The ground wasn’t impressed with the idea. No help at all. I should have waited until after the next rain, but Gran was happy.’

  ‘Poor, hardworking Ben.’ She did have a mental picture of those smooth muscles she’d run her hands over last night, glistening in the sunlight, rippling and stretching, as he worked. Warmth spread out over her lower belly as if someone had cupped her there.

  ‘I could rub your shoulders.’

  He quirked an eyebrow at her as his fingers dug into his neck again. ‘That would be terrible.’ But the smile he gave her made her skin tingle and her belly heat an extra degree. Good grief.

  She wagged her finger. ‘I’m just offering a shoulder rub.’

  ‘There’s no “just” about it at all.’ A slow caressing drawl. His eyes had darkened. And that time she blushed. She remembered the last time they’d spoken about ‘justs.’

  She didn’t know where to look or how to move on from here. ‘How about you turn the kitchen chair around and lean your arms across the back. Rest your forehead on your arms. I’ll stand behind you.’ She gingerly touched his arm to steer him into the chair.

  He allowed her to guide him, but looked over one big broad shoulder at her. ‘I like the idea of you standing behind me.’

  Her cheeks heated even more. ‘For goodness’ sake, Ben, stop.’ But she was smiling as she pushed him down.

  ‘Will I take my shirt off,’ he teased.

  ‘That’s a no.’ Not if she wasn’t going to ravish him. ‘Besides, my hands will slide better on fabric, otherwise I’d have to use oil.’

  ‘More ghastly images in my mind.’

  This time she laughed out loud. ‘Not tonight, sunshine.’

  He began to hum “You are My Sunshine” under his breath and she pushed hard into his shoulders. His hum stopped abruptly as her finger began to work. She’d done a massage course once, during her uni days, and worked casually on the campus health clinic when the usual masseuse was away. It hadn’t been easy to fit it around her barista work, but the extra money had come in handy and she enjoyed the benefit she could see in easing her clients’ discomfort.

  Ben groaned quietly under her hands and she smiled to herself. He hadn’t seen anything yet. It was a shame she couldn’t get his shirt off and use the oil. There was something so soothing about skin on skin, but she would … one day.

  Chapter Twenty-Three


  Ben

  Ben thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He couldn’t have opened his eyes and moved away if his life depended on it. Not until Holly stopped, anyway. Talk about fantasy—he’d stumbled into one right here in Wirralong.

  Her incredibly strong fingers—he’d have to check them out when he got a chance—winkled the ache from the tight band across his shoulders and he couldn’t stop the groan when she swirled strongly into the knots of his neck.

  When she finally slowed and finished, with a few seconds of resting her hands on his shoulders, he sighed and reluctantly lifted his head. Nothing ached. Except …

  Wow. ‘Thank you.’

  She turned and began to move to the sink, but he caught her fingers. ‘You’re very good with your hands.’

  She smiled at him and, despite the pink he could see touching her cheeks, she did meet his eyes.

  ‘So are you.’

  He laughed and let her go. ‘You’re very welcome. Now I’d better go before my hands take on a mind of their own while you have two sleeping boys in another room. Especially as we all have work tomorrow.’

  She rinsed her hands at the sink and turned back to him. ‘You won’t need it, but good luck tomorrow, Ben.’

  ‘You wouldn’t like to join the practice one day a week, would you? You could work the day I don’t? Or a day I do.’ He grinned at her.

  Her turn to laugh. ‘Sight unseen? You don’t even know what skills I have or what I’ve done with my training.’

  You’d be surprised. Ben didn’t say it, but he knew, from asking people over the years, she’d be an asset to any practice. ‘You’re registered. Worked in an emergency department. Experienced, if a little burnt out. And female doctors are needed in communities.’ He shrugged, keeping a relaxed expression on his face. ‘Just a seed to plant.’