by Joan Kilby
“I have one photo taken of the front of the house when I was a child. I could draw a plan from memory.”
“Do that when you have a spare moment and I’ll take a look.”
“Thanks.” Her blue dress rode up over her knee as she leaned back, her arms loose and relaxed. “I’m really racking up items on the IOU list. You don’t have to do this—I don’t expect anything.”
“Seeing Summer so happy this afternoon puts you firmly in the black.” He topped up their wine and set the bottle back in the cooler. “Are you serious about rebuilding in the same location? You’re not worried about another fire?”
Her face closed up and she tugged down her skirt. “Fire is a fact of life in the Australian bush. Hope Mountain is my home.”
“I see.” She was making a big mistake in his opinion, but hey, it was none of his business. Clearly nothing anyone could say would stop her, let alone him.
The sliding glass doors slammed open and Summer emerged, a glass of cola in her hand. “Hi, Hayley.” She turned to Adam. “When’s dinner?”
“Soon. I’ll turn the barbecue up again. Summer, maybe you could make a salad?” He waited for the inevitable groan of resistance to any suggestion of work.
Before Summer could say anything, Hayley rose. “I’ll help you if you like, Summer.”
“Okay,” the girl said eagerly.
As he adjusted the flame under the grill, Adam listened to them talking about horses as they worked in the kitchen. Apparently Summer was excited about Blaze’s imminent birth, and she was already thinking of names for both colts and fillies.
He turned the chicken pieces over and moved the vegetable skewers around. Would Hayley get the vet to attend, or was she concerned about the bills? He hadn’t had to worry about basic expenses in so long it was sobering to consider things from her perspective.
Hayley’s life was a microcosm of the whole community up here. At the time of the bushfires he’d watched horrific newscasts on TV. Many people across the nation, including himself, had donated money for the victims of the fires—then promptly put the misery out of their minds. Even now, as he emptied his pockets into collection jars all over town, being in Hope Mountain had made him realize that wasn’t enough.
These people needed practical help, such as when he’d unloaded the truck at the donation tent. Maybe he’d see if he could do something else while he was here, like join a volunteer group to clean up the burned-out church. This wasn’t his life and he wouldn’t be here if not for Summer, but like it or not, he was part of the community for the foreseeable future. Work needed doing, and he wanted to get involved.
He transferred the cooked chicken and vegetables to a platter, which he placed on the table. The tableau in the kitchen made him pause. Hayley’s blond head and Summer’s bright red hair glowed in the dying light of the sun. They were laughing together as Hayley chopped a red bell pepper and Summer tipped washed and torn lettuce into a big wooden bowl.
Hayley had told him to be prepared for setbacks and he was, but nothing could take away from seeing his little girl smiling again. After the storms and gloom of the past week her face shone like a rainbow, full of promise.
“The food is ready,” he called. “Bring everything outside and we’ll eat on the veranda.” Summer carried out plates with cutlery balanced on top. He slung an arm around her. “How’re you doing, kiddo?”
Instantly she tensed beneath his touch. “I’m fine.”
Uh-oh. He was trying too hard. He knew he should withdraw his arm, but he wanted so badly to hang on to the good vibe that he didn’t. “Did you have a good day with the horses?”
“Why, did Hayley say something?” Summer’s gaze flickered with anxiety, suspicion and guilt. “She promised me our sessions were confidential.”
Guilt? Surely he was mistaken. But alarm bells were ringing. What was going on with his daughter, and why did he have the feeling he was going to be the last to know?
“Hayley didn’t say anything,” Adam said. “If she told you it was confidential I’m sure she’ll keep her word.” He paused. “Would you like to tell me anything? I promise I won’t be angry or upset.”
“How can you promise that when you don’t know what I might say? What if I told you I’d murdered someone?” The notion was ludicrous but Summer’s mood had done one of its quick flips. She was sharp and intense, not joking.
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“All the more reason to talk, right?” he said lightly.
She shook her head and ducked out from under his arm. “I’m going to set the table.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADAM WAS STILL smarting from Summer’s brush-off when Hayley came out with the wooden salad bowl.
“Everything okay?” she murmured. “Is Summer upset?”
He watched his daughter fling down the knives and forks. “As you say, one step forward, two steps back.”
“Don’t worry.” She touched his arm. “It’ll all work out.”
“I hope you’re right. Let’s eat.”
They sat around the table, and the next few minutes were quiet as everyone filled their plates. Below in the valley, shadows had fallen. On the far mountains the spiky profiles of trees rode the ridges, etched against the pink-and-orange sky.
“I would love to have this in my new house,” Hayley said, sweeping her arm in a wide arc. “A big, wide veranda with comfortable chairs where I could watch the sun set.”
“Did the original homestead have a veranda?”
“Only a small one. But I was thinking while Summer and I were getting the salad ready. This is my chance for a do-over and it makes sense to improve on the past. I doubt my grandparents would’ve chosen sentimentality over practicality—life was hard enough in their day. They would have taken every improvement they could get their hands on.”
Adam speared a piece of marinated eggplant. It didn’t look so pretty now. “I take it you won’t be going back to using an outhouse?”
“No, I think I can live without that.”
“How about a gazebo with a hot tub instead?”
“Now you’re talking.” She laughed and then sighed, as if she was only dreaming. “Put it on the wish list.”
He would get such a buzz out of making her wish list come true. “If you like, I could incorporate the best of your old house with modern elements for a structure that’s practical but homey.”
“Are you sure you have time, what with your other work and getting this place ready for...” she glanced at Summer “...the bushfire season?”
“It’ll be fun.” He poured her more wine, keeping an eye on Summer. She was checking her phone beneath the table. He didn’t allow the phone at the table and she knew it.
“Eat up before your food gets cold,” Adam said to her.
“I’m looking up horse names for the foal.” Summer turned to Hayley. “What about Trixie for a filly, and Blade for a colt?”
“I haven’t really thought about names yet,” Hayley said. “Why don’t you start a list and put those on it?”
“Cool.” She tapped away on the keypad.
“Put the phone away till after dinner, please,” Adam insisted. A ping signaled an incoming message. Summer started to read it. Frustrated, he said, “Summer.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. Her face went white, making the freckles on her nose stand out. Then color flooded back and she stabbed at the phone to turn it off before tossing it across the table.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.
“Nothing.” Summer’s hand trembled as she reached for a piece of chicken. He didn’t say anything else but he continued to watch her, concerned and helpless. She glanced up, eyes blazing. “Quit staring at me!”
&
nbsp; “Sorry,” he said quietly, not wanting the scene to escalate. Hayley gave him a sympathetic glance but didn’t offer any comment.
Adam turned his attention away from Summer. He was learning it was better not to keep asking her questions when she was in this mood. Instead he quizzed Hayley on her lifestyle and her practical needs, and inquired about her other interests. Turned out she liked to knit.
“I always think of people who knit being elderly, like my grandmother,” he said.
“You are so wrong.” Hayley tucked into her chicken. “I belong to a knitting circle. We meet twice a month, and not one of us is over forty. Well, Lisa is forty-eight but she only admits to thirty-nine.”
“Did you make your sweater?” Summer asked, nodding at the soft multicolored garment on the back of Hayley’s chair.
Adam relaxed a little. If his daughter was back in the conversation it meant she’d calmed down—by herself. Maybe the horse therapy was starting to have an effect.
“I knit it out of scraps of donated wool,” Hayley said.
Adam envisaged a nook beside a fire with one of those armless rocking chairs and Hayley sitting there, knitting. “What else do you do for relaxation?”
“I read, watch movies. I like to dance.”
“A ballroom might not fit in a standard-sized home but I could try.” He enjoyed seeing her quick smile. “How many bedrooms, three or four? Do you want to make room for future children?”
The smile froze on her face.
Hell. He wasn’t normally this clumsy with women. Treading the narrow line between friendship and flirting was throwing him off balance. “Sorry, that’s too personal.”
“I... No, that’s okay. I would like to have kids someday, but...who knows if, or when, that will happen.”
“Some lucky man will snap you up. When you’re ready.”
She flushed and reached for her glass, taking a big gulp of wine. “I don’t know.”
“I do.”
More frozen silence. Damn. All he’d intended was a gallant compliment to the effect that she was too desirable a woman to stay single for long. He couldn’t say that in front of his daughter so his words had come out as even more suggestive, as if he had designs on Hayley.
Inside the house, the phone rang. His first impulse was to go answer it and escape the awkwardness but then he had another idea. “Summer, can you get that?”
She scraped back her chair and went inside. Her animated voice indicated the call was for her. Adam reached for her cell with a quick glance at Hayley. “Don’t judge me.”
She held up a hand and silently shook her head.
He tapped into Summer’s message log. The latest was from someone named Steve. I want to talk to you. Seemed harmless enough, so why the dramatic reaction? “Has she mentioned anyone named Steve?” he said to Hayley.
“You know I can’t tell you. Please don’t ask.”
Adam set the phone carefully back where he’d found it. “If this boy or man hurts my daughter...” His words trailed away as he realized he was implying it would be Hayley’s fault. She was only trying to help them both. He scrubbed his hands over his face.
Hayley reached across and touched his shoulder. “Don’t worry so much. I don’t think she wants to talk to him.”
He looked into her eyes, so blue and serious. She was willing him to trust her. And he did, instinctively. It eased his mind a bit, except...she knew something he didn’t.
“Dad?” Summer was back. “Can I be excused? Puberty Blues is on TV, and Zoe and I are going on Twitter to talk while we watch.”
“You’re not finished eating.”
“I’ve had enough. Please?” She jiggled up and down with impatience.
“Okay, off you go. Take your plate with you. And thanks for helping with the salad.”
“No problem. See you later, Hayley. I’ll show you my list of names tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Good night.”
Summer grabbed her phone and her dirty dishes and left.
Adam put the last few minutes out of his mind and rewound to where his and Hayley’s conversation had left off. Ah, yes, they’d been mired in awkwardness thanks to his foot-in-mouth attack. “Um, we were talking about the number of bedrooms.”
Hayley cleared her throat, her features composed. “Three would be fine.”
Damn Leif. What had he been thinking to cheat on her? Adam wished the man were alive so he could knock his block off.
Hayley was strong, but there were moments like earlier when he glimpsed the vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. How would she ever let another man in while she was still clinging to her husband’s memory?
Maybe it was Adam’s duty to tell her the truth. If the situation were reversed, would he want to know? He thought so, but on the other hand, what one didn’t know didn’t hurt them. Who really knew what went on in a marriage? Outwardly, he and Diane had looked solid, too.
If he wanted to help Hayley, he should stick to drafting house plans and giving her horses shelter, not poke into her private life. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. She was fresh, natural, unaffected. Not innocent, naturally, but not jaded, either. Despite everything she had an optimism that he found admirable and inspiring.
“Were you able to save anything from your house of sentimental value—photos, keepsakes...jewelry?” he asked.
“No, I was in the dam. Where would I have put anything?” she said mildly.
“Of course,” he murmured. “It’s a shame you have nothing left to remember your late husband by.” Like a watch.
“I have the wedding photo my mother-in-law gave me. But I don’t need it to remind me of Leif. I can picture him easily.”
“Images fade with time.” Adam knew. His memory of his grandfather was hazy now, consisting mostly of the smell of tobacco and a pair of weathered hands hoisting him onto the back of a horse when he was about five years old.
The fundamental thing was that he had no right to hold on to her late husband’s property. How could he assume she wouldn’t want to know the truth? And how could he deprive her of a valuable item when she was clearly hard up for money? She could sell the Rolex and buy a new saddle or something.
Hayley leaned across the table and touched his hand. “It’s okay, Adam. I don’t need Leif’s child to remember him, if that’s what you’re thinking. And if I end up never having kids it won’t destroy my life.”
He realized he’d been staring at her soberly, intently, trying to sort out his own dilemma about Leif’s watch while she thought he was worried that he’d embarrassed her over her lack of children and a partner to start a family with.
The bottom line was, having the watch in his possession and not giving it to her felt dishonest. Regardless of what had gone on between Diane and Leif, regardless of Hayley and Leif’s relationship, what he cared about was his relationship with Hayley. Whatever that turned out to be, whether simply boss and employee, or friends, or a flirtation, he wanted it to be based on honesty. He’d had enough dishonesty with Diane to last a lifetime.
A gust of evening breeze lifted Hayley’s hair. Shivering slightly, she drew on her sweater. “It’s getting late. I’ll help you clean up, but then I’d better go back to the cottage.”
“We haven’t tasted Molly’s liqueur,” Adam said. “Stay a little longer?”
She hesitated and then said, “All right.”
Together they carried the remains of the meal inside. Adam put the kettle on and over his protests, Hayley stacked the dishwasher. It was a quiet domestic scene, peaceful and with a feeling of good will. Hayley seemed more relaxed than he’d seen her since they’d met. Clearly, being in a home again and having her horses secure was good for her.
And now he was about to blow her world apart.
* * *
HAYLEY CAST SIDELONG glances at Adam as he poured small glasses of golden liqueur. He’d been lovely at dinner, relaxed and funny and sweet, trying to draw her out as he figured out the best plan for her house. Yes, there’d been a couple of awkward moments when she hadn’t known how to react to his questions, but it had been a long time since a man had hung on her every word and been so interested in what she did, thought and wanted.
And if that was a sad commentary on her marriage, well, so be it. She and Leif had been so busy building the trail-riding business—and he’d had his volunteer firefighting—that they hadn’t spent a lot of quality time together those last few months. That had been about to change, though. He’d promised that this spring they would take a trip somewhere, maybe a cruise to Tahiti or Singapore. It would have been a second honeymoon.
There was no point crying over what couldn’t ever come to pass. Like having a family. Leif used to say he wanted kids, but whenever she’d broached the subject of trying for a baby, he’d always had some compelling reason why they should wait another year. Poor Adam had looked so upset at the thought of hurting her feelings that she’d made out like she didn’t care about not having children. When in fact, she cared. A lot.
Adam handed her a glass of liqueur, then went to the sideboard in the dining room and removed an object from the drawer. His expression was so serious she almost felt alarmed. What could possibly make him look like that?
“I found this,” he said, holding out a watch. “It belonged to your husband.”
She gave it a quick glance. “No, it can’t have been Leif’s. He wore a brushed metal timepiece, and this is a gold Rolex. Leif never owned anything so valuable.”
“Read the inscription.”
Even before she turned the watch over she got a prickling over the back of her neck. Then she saw the words. For Leif, my sexy mountain man, from your red-hot mama.
Oh, no. Oh, hell. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch her breath. He’d started up again with someone else. He’d promised. The date on the inscription was Christmas of the previous year. Two months before he’d died.
