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The following Friday night, a week after the disastrous night at the pub, Mitchell heard Hope’s car pull up at the same time as the flash of headlights swept through the house and the dogs started barking.
Hope had shocked him when she’d called first thing last Saturday morning. He’d figured after their conversation the night before at the pub, he wouldn’t hear from her for a long time. Instead, she’d called to invite herself to dinner at his place.
He’d said yes without thinking, then gone into panic mode. Why would she do such a thing?
He got Ian to work in the clinic on Thursday and Friday and he worked on the house until nearly midnight both days alongside Clancy, Beth and Jordan. He wanted the place presentable for Hope’s visit. It was a long way from complete, but at least he had his bedroom, the kitchen and living room areas finished. They’d worked hard and fast, joking that they felt like they were on an episode of The Block, with Hope the judge.
He opened the door and stepped onto the deck to wait for her.
As darkness settled over the paddocks, the sun threw streamers of red and purple across the sky. Soon all that would be left of the sunset were thin ribbons of gold. It was his favourite time of the day and tonight mother nature was putting on one of her best shows.
Behind him, inside, soft music played through the newly purchased blue tooth sound system. Jordan had come to the rescue about an hour earlier sending him a link to a suitable Spotify playlist.
A roaring fire blazed in the hearth and light from the new lamps Beth had purchased glowed from their position either side of the couch. Thanks mostly to Beth and his credit card, the house had been transformed into something worthy of a four-page spread in Country Living magazine.
Hope got out of the car wearing a navy dress that accentuated her tiny waist and curvy hips and he instantly regretted his choice to dress casually in jeans and a jumper. What had happened to her “let’s keep it simple”? She always looked beautiful but tonight she was even more stunning. He tried to ignore the heat in his gut and the warning in his head. If Hope had dressed to impress—and it had worked, because he was impressed—this was not just a simple dinner between two friends. So what was it?
One thing he did know was his body was prickling at the memory of their last kiss and a hot rush of need was racing through his veins.
‘Hey.’ Her smile lit her entire face.
‘Do you need a hand?’ He finally remembered to speak.
‘Here. You can take this.’ She handed him a tea-towel-encased casserole dish before turning back to her car.
Two trips later his kitchen bench was laden with containers of various shapes and sizes. The aroma emitting from them was making his stomach growl. He’d been so busy doing final touches to the house he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Hope stopped to sniff the candle he’d placed on the coffee table. Along with the floor rug, table lamps and throw cushions, Beth had found him a scented candle. The flame flickered, bouncing and reflecting off the uncurtained windows.
‘Mm, that smells divine.’
‘Vanilla cupcake.’
She chuckled ‘When I walked in, I thought you’d been baking.’
He laughed. ‘God no. The oven’s only for show.’
‘Lucky I can cook.’ She beamed. ‘You’d better be hungry.’
‘Starving.’
‘They say the only way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ She opened one of the containers and steam rose into the air.
‘Whoever “they” is might be right. That smells so good.’
While Hope found plates, he watched her. Her hair hung loose and straight, reaching almost to her backside. He wasn’t used to it like this, and it made him want to run his fingers through it to see if it was as silky and smooth as it looked, but he gave himself a mental shake. As much as he wanted to believe Hope had come to tell him she’d changed her mind about staying in Macarthur Point, he had to remain calm and take things one step at a time, following her lead.
‘Where did you learn to cook?’ he asked as she piled amazing-looking food onto his plate.
She offered him a sheepish grin. ‘Okay, I’ll come clean. I didn’t cook any of this.’
His eyes widened. ‘You got Margot to cook for you?’
She ducked her head.
‘Courtney?’
She looked up at him from under dark, thick lashes. Her face was flushed and the smile she gave him made him want to pull her into his arms.
‘I called in a favour from one of Courtney’s friends. She’s a chef.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Then you put it all into Margot’s casserole dishes and thought I wouldn’t suspect anything.’
‘Something like that.’
‘I admire your ingenuity.’
‘Well, it was either that or fish and chips. Sorry, like you, I can’t cook more than the basics.’
‘Basics would have been fine with me, Hope. You said we were keeping things simple. And this,’ he said, waving his arm in an arc, ‘doesn’t look simple.’
She laughed. ‘Truly, this is nothing. You want to see me when I go all out.’
‘Oh yeah I do.’ He chuckled then laughed when she blushed.
She exhaled heavily and held out a shaking hand. ‘Why am I so nervous? It never used to be like this.’
He knew the feeling. His heart had pounded against his rib cage the moment she’d pulled up. Now it was racing at double speed. God, he wanted to kiss her.
He skirted the bench and came around to stand beside her, deliberately bumping his hip against hers. ‘I’m glad you called.’
‘I wanted to start over.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘I feel like I’ve made a mess of things since the moment I arrived in town. I thought tonight would be a good chance to be alone, away from prying ears and eyes and just talk face to face.’
He resisted the urge to tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Like I said. I’m glad. I have to admit, your mood swings have kept me on my toes.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’
‘You remember that day I drove you home after you delivered the calf?’
He nodded.
‘I knew from the moment I saw you that you wanted to kiss me.’
His skin tingled and heat rushed through him at the memory of that kiss. ‘I did.’
Still do.
Every single day since she’d arrived back in town, he’d imagined being with her. Even after she’d told him she couldn’t do it, he still dreamed of being with her.
‘Then when you told me you had a girlfriend it got awkward.’
Guilt swept in again. ‘That’s my fault, Hope. I should have said something.’
‘I didn’t give you much chance. I pretty much threw myself at you.’
He laughed. ‘Yeah, you did. But I wasn’t complaining.’
‘What about now?’ She gave him a shy crooked smile. ‘Do you still want to kiss me?’
For an endless moment he couldn’t breathe, remembering how much he wanted her and how frequently he pictured himself peeling off her clothes and running his hands over her body.
He exhaled in a rush. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much I want to kiss you right now.’
She locked eyes with him. ‘Sounds like we’re back on the same page.’
His lungs constricted and he fought the flood of desire. She was here for dinner, not sex. As much as he wanted to jump into bed with her, that wasn’t the answer to the questions he still had.
‘Are you sure?’
Blushing, she grabbed a plate and pressed it into his hands. ‘I’m sure. But let’s eat and talk first. We still have lots to catch up on.’
He groaned. ‘Come on, Hope. I just admitted I want to kiss you, and you want to eat first. Are you kidding me?’
She smiled. ‘Food comes first. Always.’
‘I hope that means kissing comes second,’ he murmured.
‘We’ll see.’ For a second she didn’t seem as relaxed as when she’d arrived, and he took two mental steps back. No point rushing her and forcing her to run again. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the evening before it had even started.
Hope led the way from the kitchen to the dining table and he followed. He’d set two places, side by side on the bench seat that faced the windows. He’d turned on the outside lights and they lit up two large silver gums. On the table he’d placed a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
‘Were you thinking you might get lucky if I get tipsy?’ she asked when he’d poured her a glass.
He clinked his glass against hers. ‘I’m not looking for anything tonight other than a chance to be a good host and catch up with an old friend.’
‘Liar,’ she murmured, lifting the wine to her lips.
Her eyes never left his face. After taking a sip, she put the glass back down and picked up her knife and fork. ‘Dig in before it gets cold.’
The meal was sensational and the wine perfect. After they had eaten, Mitchell carried their plates to the dishwasher and loaded it, refusing her help. He needed a moment to clear his head. He flicked the switch for the kettle. ‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Do you have any drinking chocolate?’
‘Somewhere.’
He rifled through the pantry and found the Cadbury drinking chocolate. ‘Thank you, Beth,’ he whispered. She’d thought of everything.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched Hope. She stood at the window, staring out across the darkened paddocks. She looked relaxed again and he smiled. It was good to have her in his house.
While he heated milk in the microwave for her hot chocolate, Hope wandered over to stand in front of the fire. She picked up the crime novel he’d been reading and leafed through the pages.
‘Is it any good?’ she asked.
‘I’m only halfway through, but yeah, so far so good.’
‘He’s one of my favourite authors,’ she said.
‘You’re not into those romance novels anymore?’ he asked. He’d never known her not to have a book on the go.
‘I like reading stuff like this too,’ she said, placing the book back on the coffee table.
He made himself a cup of coffee and took their mugs over to the coffee table. He dimmed the lights, put an extra couple of logs on the fire and sank into the couch beside Hope.
‘So,’ he said, exhaling softly, wishing his heart rate would settle. ‘Where should we start?’
She gently rested her prosthetic leg on his thigh. ‘How about we talk about the elephant in the room. Let’s talk about this first.’
He hesitated, wondering if he needed to choose his words carefully. He put his hand just below her knee. The prosthesis had the same shape as her other leg, but it felt hard under his fingers. ‘It’s hardly an elephant.’
She laughed.
‘Are you okay talking about it?’
‘Absolutely. But are you? You’ve talked about my cancer, but you haven’t mentioned my leg once.’
‘I wasn’t sure what to say.’
‘What do you know about what happened?’ she asked.
‘Bits and pieces. Courtney called and told me you had cancer in your leg. The next I heard you had to have it amputated. That’s all I know.’
She picked up her mug and took a sip of her hot chocolate before continuing. ‘After I left Macarthur Point at the end of that summer, I went back to Africa to start year twelve. I don’t know if you remember, but we were living in Kenya at the time. Sometime around June I was fooling around at school and tripped and sprained my ankle. After a few weeks when I still couldn’t walk on it properly, Dad took me to the medical centre where they had some basic medical imaging equipment. They X-rayed my leg and found an egg-size tumour on my tibia just above my left ankle.’
His gut churned. He’d seen tumours in animals’ legs and had amputated the limbs of several dogs. It never got easier knowing he was about to change that animal’s life forever. He couldn’t imagine how Hope would have felt. Or her parents.
‘It must have been terrifying.’
‘Yeah, the doctors said it was a miracle they found the tumour.’
‘Why?’
‘The equipment was outdated and the people operating it didn’t really know what they were looking for. A Canadian radiologist and her husband happened to be in the same town visiting their World Vision sponsored child and someone told her about me. It was the most random series of events. Anyway, she came and looked at the scans and saw a shadow immediately. From there, things moved quickly, and I was taken to Nairobi for more scans and a biopsy. They scraped out as much of the cells as they could and were split fifty-fifty whether they’d got it all. They told Dad to watch it and sent us back to Kawangware.’
‘Your parents didn’t bring you back to Australia for more tests?’
‘Not straight away. They trusted the medical team over there knew what they were doing.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Over the next couple of weeks, the pain in my leg increased and I could feel a lump. They took me to another doctor in another hospital in another city and after another series of tests and more biopsies and scans, they agreed with the first doctors. Wait and see.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’
‘Beyond scared. By then I’d managed to get onto the internet at school and from what I’d googled, I knew it was cancer. Osteosarcoma. I couldn’t convince my parents to believe me.’
He stared at her, stunned.
‘I begged them to let me come back to Australia for Christmas like I’d done every other year and they eventually agreed, and I flew back to Melbourne in the middle of December.’
He frowned. ‘But not back to Macarthur Point?’ If she’d been back, surely, he would have known.
She shook her head. ‘I was supposed to, but when Margot picked me up from the airport and saw how much weight I’d lost, she was horrified. When I told her that I was in excruciating pain I’m surprised she didn’t call an ambulance from baggage claim. She drove me straight from Tullamarine to the closest emergency department.’
‘What did they find?’
‘I had so many scans I lost count. I was so tired from the flights I fell asleep in the middle of the MRI. Three hours later one the nicest doctors I’ve ever met—an Irish doctor called John—came into the cubicle, pulled the curtain closed and confirmed what I knew. I had cancer.’
Mitchell stared at her, mouth open, waiting for her to continue.
‘I’m not sure how they were able to get the results back so fast, but I remember being absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed but relieved to know I had an answer to what was wrong. It was in my head. I started chemo four days later, but the doctors told me from the beginning the best chance of survival was amputation.’
‘I can’t imagine how awful that would have been. For you. For Margot. And for your parents.’
‘Margot was furious with Mum and Dad. It took her a long time to get over it. And my parents. Well, they didn’t know.’
‘What?’
‘You have to remember this was before Facetime or Skype. They were working and living in a slum area outside of Nairobi and had no reliable internet or email access. Margot did everything she could to try to get in touch with them, but it took weeks for a letter to reach them and another two weeks for them to find the money and book flights to come back to Australia.’
He shook his head. ‘How did you cope?’
‘I had Margot. As you know, she’s amazing. And to be honest, at eighteen, being told I could die if I kept my leg or live without it, it wasn’t a difficult decision for me to make. The only reason they wouldn’t do it straight away was that even though I was eighteen, they still wanted me to have my parent’s consent.’
He finished his coffee and set the mug back on the table. Hope was the bravest person he knew.
She shifted position and put both legs back on the floor.
‘From a distance, it’s hard to tell it’s a prosthesis,’ he said. ‘You barely even have a limp.’
‘I do when I’m tired.’
‘Does it bother you when people stare?’
‘It used to. At first, I’d always wear long pants, even in summer. I’d learned to walk so well most people never knew I had a prosthetic leg, but I wasn’t brave enough or confident enough to show it off. Now I go for function over fashion.’
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her pictures until she found the one she wanted, and passed it to him.
‘That blade cost more than Courtney’s BMW,’ she said
His eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Totally worth it. You can’t outrun me when I have that one on.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘My leg, you mean?’
He nodded.
‘Absolutely, but I’ve made peace with it.’
‘It must be hard relying on people to do things for you.’
She shifted position. ‘I don’t rely on anyone, Mitch. I don’t need to. From the beginning I learned I could either rely on people to do everything for me for the rest of my life, or I could get on and learn to do it myself. You know me. I’ve always hated the idea of being dependent. Nothing’s changed since I lost my leg.’
‘I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you not being able to do things. You were so active and now you must hate being limited.’
‘I’m not limited at all. So far, I haven’t found anything I can’t do that a non-amputee can. I simply adapt the way I do it. That’s why I have different legs. I refuse to let my lack of a limb define me and stop me from living life.’
She had no idea what an inspirational person she was. ‘You’re amazing.’
She shook her head. ‘Not really,’
Silence fell and it was comfortable and easy. The logs shifted, and sparks flew up the chimney. He reached for her legs and swung them back up across his thighs. ‘Thanks for telling me all this.’
‘You needed to know.’
‘Like I said, I just wish I’d known sooner. I could have been there for you.’
‘Did you know you were the first person I ever fell in love with?’ she asked.
‘Is that right?’
She gave him a little push. ‘Don’t act like you don’t know. You were the first man I’d ever been with.’
He loved the way she’d turned pink. ‘I’m glad it was memorable for you, too.’ That night was one of his most treasured memories.
‘I wasn’t surprised I was so attracted to you when I saw you again out at the farm that day,’ she said.
‘Well I am insanely handsome.’
She laughed. ‘Don’t kid yourself. You’re not as cute as Chris Brown.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘What does the bloody Bondi Vet have that I don’t have?’
‘Hmmm...where do I start?’
‘Oi. Be nice.’
They laughed.
Comfortable silence filled the room.
After a while, he gently lifted her legs off his thigh and turned her around, so they were face to face on the couch.
‘Let’s talk about the real elephant in the room.’
Her eyelids flickered and the pink in her cheeks turned red.
‘What elephant is that?’ she asked, voice husky.
‘This one.’
He slowly leaned forward and kissed her, savouring the feel of her lips against his.
She cupped the back of his neck and drew him closer, kissing him without hesitation. Sweet desire ricocheted through him, his blood making a whooshing sound in his ears as it rushed around his body. The kiss deepened and he could barely think. It had started out slow and tender but now it was full of hunger and heat. He willed his body into submission, but it was a lost battle.
From the moment she’d walked into his house the sexual tension between them had escalated from zero to ten.
They kissed over and over, tasting and savouring, their breath mingling, warm and intoxicatingly familiar.
He finally pulled back to look at her and catch his breath.
Her smile was lopsided.
‘Is this okay?’ he whispered, cradling her head in both hands.
‘This is very okay,’ she whispered back.
To prove her point, she pulled him towards her until their lips met again.