by Joan Kilby
“Hayley!” A petite brunette with shoulder-length curls rapped at her window. Jacinta, her best friend and the town librarian, motioned to her to roll down the window.
“What are you doing roaming the streets in the middle of the day?” Hayley got out of the truck and gave her friend a hug. As they moved to the sidewalk Shane bounded through the open door and sat at Hayley’s heel. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the library shushing someone?”
Jacinta laughed. “Between the resident poet holding forth every lunch hour and the book club ladies yakking, the place is pretty darn noisy.”
“Guess it’s a while since I’ve been to the library. I don’t have much time to read these days.”
“We haven’t caught up in ages.” Jacinta touched Hayley’s shoulder and lowered her voice. “You okay? Your eyes are all puffy. You haven’t been crying, have you?”
“Horses for Hope’s funding got cut.” Yesterday had been one long tear fest as she’d rung client after client, giving them the bad news. She’d told Dave she would treat him for free until funding came in from somewhere. He’d thanked her and refused, pointing out that she would need to get another job. She’d started to protest before realizing he was right.
She wasn’t even going to mention to Jacinta that her electricity had been cut off, too—a day earlier than threatened. Bastards. Well, she’d lived without power for a month in the immediate aftermath of the fires. She could manage again. Which reminded her: she needed to buy candles.
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Jacinta hugged her again. “I could go for an early lunch if you want to talk.”
“I’d love to, but I’ve got something I need to do.”
Jacinta saw the direction of her gaze, to Molly’s shop, and frowned. “You’re not going to move in with Leif’s folks?”
“No.” She noted the quickly hidden relief on her friend’s face. “Why don’t you like Molly and Rolf? They’re wonderful. I’m closer to them than to my own parents.”
“They’re great. I have nothing against them. It’s just that...” Jacinta rubbed Hayley’s arm soothingly. “I know you’re still grieving and everything, but I’d like to see you move on at some point.”
“I am moving on, really. Molly and Rolf are friends, not just my in-laws. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“Sure, but they keep you in the past.”
“I’m not going to cut them off.” They were practically the only people she saw regularly these days.
“Hey, I have a date on Friday with Jeremy, a pharmacist from Healesville. Do you want me to see if he has a friend?”
“Thanks, no. I’m good.”
“Hayley, you never get out anymore,” Jacinta accused. “You’re in danger of turning into a crazy horse lady, sitting home cleaning your bridles and knitting pullovers.”
“I’ll call you soon.” Hayley eased away from Jacinta, toward the Gift Shop Café. “We’ll get drunk and dance with cowboys.”
Grinning, Jacinta pointed a finger. “One of these days we are so going to do that.”
Dancing with cowboys in bars had been a joke between them since high school. Jacinta was an academic type and would sooner ride a bucking bronco than date a cowboy. And Hayley had been with Leif since graduation. Party girls they were not. But they’d never worried about it, being content with their lives. Now, as they closed in on their mid-thirties and Jacinta was still single and Hayley newly so, the joke seemed a tad less funny.
Hayley waved goodbye, then braced herself to go inside. She couldn’t dwell on the past. She had to look to the future. She was alive and healthy and determined to write her own story, not give up or blame fate for her misfortune. And how could she complain when she had a job she could just walk into for the asking?
“Sit, Shane.” The dog sat obediently. “Stay.”
Hayley took a deep breath and entered, setting the bell over the door jangling. To the right was the café with a meal counter, tables along the window and a small kitchen out the back. On the opposite side was the gift shop selling local handicrafts, paintings and Australiana. The place was empty except for Molly, who was behind the counter putting price stickers on koala key rings.
Molly glanced up at the bell and her round face brightened. “’Morning, Hayley. So nice of you to stop by.”
Hayley returned her mother-in-law’s warm smile. Truly, she had more blessings to count than things to complain about. “I’d like to accept your offer of a job, after all.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Molly leaned over the counter and gave her a hug, scattering the key rings.
They got coffee and sat in the café and talked about the job. Molly was terrific, telling Hayley she could have as many or as few hours as she wanted, making Hayley wonder if she really needed help or if this was a form of charity. But she couldn’t afford to be proud, so together they worked out a schedule that suited both of them.
“It’s a darn shame about the Horses for Hope program,” Molly said for the twentieth time, as Hayley prepared to leave.
“It is what it is.” Hayley shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.” She’d racked her brain all night on possible sources of funding and had come up with nothing but a headache. “Thanks again. I’ll see you Wednesday morning.”
Molly walked her to the door. “I’m so glad we’ll get to spend more time together. Ever since Leif...Well, it isn’t the same without you around. At least with you, Rolf and I can talk about our boy and remember all the good times we had.”
“Yeah.” Hayley’s smile faltered. Maybe Jacinta had a point. Sometimes with Molly and Rolf, she felt as though she was living in the past. She’d loved Leif and wanted to honor his memory, but some memories hurt.
Occasionally, in the morning before she was fully awake, she would forget what had happened and reach for him only to find the other side of the bed cold and bare. She’d open her eyes and see the roller door and the tools hanging on the walls, and reality would crash in on her. All that kept her going some days was her and Leif’s dream of building a full-time dude ranch. She loved the horse therapy, but she’d held that other dream so long it would feel like failure if she didn’t carry it out.
“Stay for lunch?” Molly said. “I made Thai green curry for today’s special.”
“Tempting, but I can’t. I’ve got another stop to make this afternoon.” If she wanted to keep her dream alive, she had to swallow her pride and take care of her horses. Simple as that. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
CHAPTER FOUR
HAYLEY PASSED HER own driveway and carried on to Timbertop. Entering Adam’s green and leafy forest she felt like Dorothy leaving black-and-white Kansas and landing in the colorful land of Oz. The untouched bush was so beautiful it almost hurt.
She pulled up in front of the two-story log home and sat in her truck for a moment, taking in the house, barn, detached garage and guest cottage. A wave of resentment washed over her. Every building was intact, untouched by fire. The paddock was lush with tall grass, watered by winter rains. Then she remembered the paddock and barn were empty and her resentment was tempered by sadness for Summer’s horse, Bailey.
She climbed down from the truck and headed toward the house before she chickened out. Shane jumped out and followed her, a perpetual shadow at her heels.
Adam came around the side of the barn, a brush cutter balanced in his gloved hands. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscled forearms. With a smear of dirt on his square jaw and his dark brown hair windblown, he looked less like an office worker and more like a man who tended the land. “Hayley, what brings you out?”
She removed her hat and pushed back the strands of hair that had come loose from her braid. “I’d like to take you up on your offer to graze my horses on your property. That is, if you meant it.”
“I
meant it. Better that than brush-cut the whole outdoors.” His gaze roamed over her and she was glad she’d worn her blue blouse tucked into clean, relatively new jeans and her good cowboy boots. “What made you change your mind?”
“I...” she swallowed at the humiliation of coming cap in hand, then glanced at her hat, literally in her hands, and jammed it back on her head “...just hate to see good pasture go to waste. But I don’t want something for nothing. I’ll treat Summer in exchange for the feed.”
“That would be great. But I insist on paying your usual fee. Did someone drop out of the Horses for Hope program?”
“I can do it, is all.” What difference did it make what her reasons were? She didn’t want to tell Adam all the stuff going on in her life and let him inside her head. She might start crying again.
“Okay,” he said. “Well, bring your horses over anytime. When could you begin the therapy?”
“Soon. Tomorrow afternoon, even. I suggest alternating a day on and a day off. Give both horse and girl a rest.”
“Wonderful. Come inside and have a cup of coffee. We can tell Summer together, talk about what she can expect.”
“There’s not much to talk about. When I do talk, it’ll just be with Summer.” He looked taken aback at her blunt statement. Damn. Her nerves were on edge and she couldn’t even manage common civility. “I work with horses, but it’s still therapy,” she explained, aiming for a nicer tone. “Everything that passes between Summer and me is confidential.”
“I’m her father. I have a right to know what’s going on.” Adam hefted the brush cutter in one hand, freeing up the other. Not threatening but...assertive.
Hayley, trained in body language, noticed. She made a conscious effort not to take a step back. Things weren’t going to be smooth between them. She needed to get used to that. And not care.
“You have a right to expect that I’ll do the best job I can, and that I’ll work with Summer until she no longer needs me. Beyond that, you’ll know whatever Summer chooses to tell you.”
He looked like he wanted to protest further but instead he shut his mouth and nodded. “Whatever you say. I’m grateful you’ve found time for her.”
She had to admire his ability to be gracious under duress. “Well, see you tomorrow— Damn.”
“What is it? Is there a problem?”
“No, not with Summer or the horses. I just forgot to buy candles when I was in town.” She glanced at her watch. “If I hurry I might make it before the store shuts.”
“Diane has a million tea lights and scented candles. You’re welcome to them. Come inside.”
She started to protest, then stopped. She wasn’t going to quibble about a few candles at this stage. “Well, all right. Thanks.” Hayley followed him up the shallow steps onto the veranda and into the kitchen, telling Shane to stay outside.
Adam found a plastic bag and filled it with candles from a drawer. He tossed in a lighter. “Why do you need these? Has your power gone out? Ours is still on.”
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a limited outage.”
“When will it be back on?”
This guy asked way too many questions. “As soon as I pay my bill.”
He laughed, then stopped when he saw she wasn’t smiling. “Are you kidding me?”
“It’s no big deal. I’ll sort it out soon.”
“I can pay you for Summer’s first session up front—”
“No, that’s totally unnecessary. I’ve got money.” Coming in the future, once she’d done two weeks’ work and Molly paid her wages. Molly would give her the money early if she requested but she wasn’t going to ask. Hayley reached for the bag of candles. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to work.”
“If your power is out you won’t have any heating, either,” he said, scratching his head.
“I don’t need heat. Thanks for these.” She wished she’d never mentioned the electricity. That was what happened when you asked for even the smallest thing. People got a window into your life, and damn if they didn’t peer inside and have a good look around.
“Wait. I have something else for you.” He opened the pantry and handed her another two bags. “Sugar.”
A bag of white and one of brown, just as he’d promised. Her stiffness melted right away at his thoughtfulness. Oh, boy, was she in trouble. He was making it impossible to dislike him. “Thank you.”
He badgered her all the way to her truck. “Do you have any place to stay until it’s sorted? Friends, family?”
“Of course. But I can’t leave my horses.” She opened the truck door so Shane could jump in, then she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Adam put a hand on the open window, effectively preventing her from driving away. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Whatever it is, it probably won’t work.” She appreciated his help but hated seeing pity in his eyes, just like with the volunteers who manned the food and clothing distribution. Lining up for basic sustenance after the fires had been the most humiliating experience of her life.
“Is that the kind of advice you give your clients? How immensely you must help them.”
His teasing dragged a reluctant smile out of her. “Okay, now you’re channeling Oscar Wilde.”
“I was channeling a smart-ass. Why Oscar Wilde?”
“You’re kidding me, right? The Importance Of Being Earnest.” It was one of her favorite books among the hundreds she’d owned. All gone, burned along with her house. While Leif watched his sports on TV she would curl up with a book. It was no coincidence that her best friend was a librarian. She and Jacinta had bonded as ten-year-olds over Harriet the Spy. “You should try reading sometime. Broadens the mind.”
“Good advice, I’m sure.” The hint of laughter in his voice invited her to continue the banter.
Banter? How had they gone from her thinly veiled antagonism to bantering?
“I’d better get back and organize the horses. If they’re going to graze for a couple hours and get back before dark I have to start now.”
“First, listen to my idea. Why don’t you move into my guest cottage while you’re working with Summer? Your horses can use my stables as they eat down the grass, and Blaze can give birth in the comfort of a straw-lined box stall. In fact, they can have the hay stored in the barn. Now that Summer’s horse is gone I have no use for it.”
His steady gaze and deep voice betrayed nothing but sincerity. So much generosity was overwhelming, especially in the face of her standoffishness. “It’s kind of you but I can’t accept.”
“Why not? Give me one good reason.”
Her hand hovered over the key in the ignition. She didn’t have a good reason. All she had was her pride. “You don’t even know me and you’re inviting me to live in your cottage.”
“I thought neighbors helped each other in Hope Mountain. You’d be free to come and go and do whatever you normally do.”
It was tempting. Her garage would be cold and dark even with candles. But accepting would mean admitting she was a stone’s throw from being homeless. “No. Thank you, but no.”
“Hayley, it makes sense. I have this big house and a cottage and you’re toughing it out in a garage.”
Ah, he felt guilty. Well, his guilt wasn’t her problem. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “What are you, my fairy godmother?”
“Why are you so prickly? Are you like this with everyone?” He touched the back of her hand where it gripped the steering wheel and his voice dropped to a lower register. “Or is it just me?”
His touch sent a shiver up her arm. Mostly, it was him. She resented him, resented needing his help, but she was attracted, too, even now when he was right in her face. He confused the hell out of her. She didn’t know if she wanted to drive over his feet or grab his
face in both hands and kiss him. “I don’t do charity. No more than I have to, that is.”
He met her gaze, his mouth set in a determined line. “Your husband died defending my property while you lost everything. I know the circumstances were complicated but I feel responsible in a way.”
It was what she’d been thinking for the past year but as soon as he said it aloud she saw how wrong the notion was. She prided herself on being fair, but she hadn’t been fair to Adam.
“Leif died because the wind changed and he and his crew were trapped. It could’ve happened anywhere. As for my place burning while yours survived, that occurred throughout the community. You see it in town, one house in every three left on a street. It’s like when a tornado goes through, the path is unpredictable and capricious.” She struggled for the next words but she had to say them, both for his sake and because she couldn’t be anything less than fair. “You’re not responsible.”
His breath released in an audible sigh. “Thank you for saying that. For a while I thought you might have blamed me.”
She dropped her gaze. For months she’d been hanging on to the idea that Adam was responsible for Leif’s death, building up anger and resentment in her head.
It had been easy to hate Adam Banks when he’d been distant and unknown. Confronted by the kind, generous man himself, it wasn’t so easy.
Jacinta was right; she was in danger of retreating into the past, cocooning herself in grief. That wasn’t her way. Maybe if she let the anger go and admitted how wrong she’d been, her life would open up again. Suddenly, her desire to move forward tugged at her more strongly than her desire to retreat.
She looked up and met Adam’s eyes, moved by the compassion there. Some of her stored anger and resentment melted away. “I guess it’s not charity if we help each other.”
“Exactly. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Adam extended his hand through the open window and wrapped his fingers around hers. “It’s a deal, then.”
