A year before the fires
Christmas for Claire meant good food, family and fun—the joy of doing nothing for a few days. For weeks, she’d been looking forward to her first Myrtle Christmas in years and things had started off so well. Almost perfect, really, until Matt Cartwright, with his captivating eyes and easy yet caring manner, turned her world upside down.
Four excruciating days had crawled past since then and now Claire was packing for an early return to Melbourne. She wasn’t sure how she’d survived Christmas without falling apart—probably a combination of willpower and sheer bloody-mindedness. If her parents had noticed anything amiss they’d put it down to her breakup with Stu, and Claire hadn’t disabused them. She wasn’t immune to the irony that after a year-long relationship with Stu, their breakup had been devoid of any regret, yet after one night with Matt, she felt like she’d lost a limb. She knew it was crazy to feel this way but her gut, and her heart, told her they’d shared something special—something neither of them had expected.
‘It’s like being hit by a truck,’ he’d said at the beach. He’d sounded as bewildered as she’d felt and she’d believed him. The slick two-timing bastard!
More than once, Claire had contemplated driving out to Oakvale Park, finding Matt and screaming at him. She wanted to pummel her fists into his chest and hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. It was only the risk of running into his family and his by-now fiancée—the unknown Taylor—that had stayed her. Did Taylor have a clue what she was getting herself into with this guy? Should Claire find a way to contact her and tell her he was a rat bastard of the highest order?
She set the idea aside, knowing the messenger always got shot. What she hated most about the situation was the lack of justice. His fiancée was duped, she was left feeling used and Matt bloody Cartwright got off scot-free, ready to rinse and repeat.
Thank God they’d stopped short of sex. But that thought wasn’t enough to temper her flailing emotions. In the last ninety-six hours, she had lurched from fiery fury to excruciating embarrassment to soul-sucking sadness and back again, hating herself as much as she hated the farmer who’d scammed her. Today was no different. Throwing herself onto her bed, she pressed her face into the mattress and screamed. It was becoming a habit and one that had to stop. Soon she’d be back in her apartment and back at work. By then the aberration that was Matthew Cartwright would be a bitter memory she never planned to revisit.
Her mobile rang. She sat up and rummaged under a under a pile of clothes until she found it. ‘Hugo, darling!’ She’d called him that ever since they’d spent a wet afternoon years ago watching an old black-and-white British movie, the title of which neither of them could remember.
‘Hey, Claire-bear. How’s the post-Christmas slump treating you?’
‘Not bad,’ she lied. ‘I’m heading back to the big smoke tomorrow.’
‘You promised you’d come out to the farm before you left, so get your sweet behind up here around three.’
‘Short a relief milker, are you?’
He laughed. ‘Now that you mention it. Bring your gumboots too. See you soon.’
Happy for a welcome distraction, Claire finished her packing and then went and found her parents. They were reading under the shade of the veranda. ‘I’m going to Hugo’s. Either of you want to come?’
Her parents exchanged a hopeful glance. ‘We’re comfortable here, love,’ Ron said.
‘It’s only salad for dinner so no need to rush home,’ Heather added.
Claire lacked the energy to reiterate that she and Hugo were never going to be a couple. ‘Is that code for you don’t want me to spend my last night with you both?’
‘We’ve spent five lovely days with you, darling. Give Hugo our best.’
Subtle as a brick. ‘Will do.’
When the car crested the ridge, Claire pulled over at a row of letter-boxes and admired the expansive vista: the shimmering blue-green hue of the forest and the distant rippling mountains. No wonder Hugo loved living here; this part of the farm was like being on top of the world. Putting the car back in gear, she negotiated the notorious and pothole-riddled road that wound down to Hugo’s house. On the way, she passed the shed where a few eager cows were already waiting patiently for milking to begin. When she finally pulled up outside the home paddock, she was surprised to see two other cars. Hugo hadn’t mentioned a party. Grabbing her milking gear, she approached the garden gate.
‘Hello, Claire.’
Her head jerked up and her breath stalled tight and heavy in her chest. Matt Cartwright stood on the other side of the gate. Half of her wanted to turn around and flee but the other half wanted answers. Somewhere in that mix, a traitorous part of her just wanted him.
Matt’s smile was warm and inviting. He opened the gate for her and as she passed through, he leaned in close. ‘It’s great to see you.’
She shied away from him. ‘Are you for real?’
‘Um, yes. Are you okay? You sound pissed off.’
‘Pissed off is barely the tip of the iceberg. Listen, Matt, I don’t play games. I came here to see Hugo, not you. To be honest, I really don’t care if I never see you again.’
‘Because I didn’t contact you over Christmas?’ Confusion wrinkled his brow. ‘I thought you’d be busy with your family so I held back, but it wasn’t easy. If it helps, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’
Betrayal bit her. ‘Believe me, it doesn’t.’
‘I’m sorry, Claire. I wanted to see you but things my end have been … difficult.’
‘I bet,’ she muttered.
‘I’ve been waiting for you to arrive so we can talk.’
‘I don’t think so.’
Claire took three steps towards the house before Matt caught her hand. Her stomach lurched. Her skin tingled. Her knees wobbled. Her mind furiously berated her body’s easy capitulation and she tugged her hand free from his loose grip.
‘Talk about what? Your fiancée?’
He flinched as if she’d slapped him. ‘Whoever told you I’m engaged has their wires crossed.’
‘Is that so.’ She crossed her arms, trying to steady the trembles that shook her from top to toe. ‘But you do concede you have a long-time girlfriend you conveniently forgot to mention when we spent the night at the beach.’
‘I can explain. Hell, I want nothing more than the opportunity to explain. But not here.’ Children’s laughter drifted from the house, followed by the yapping of dogs. ‘Hugo’s got guests. Let’s walk to the falls.’
The sincerity on his face and in his voice wrapped itself around her, tempting her to listen. The pain of the last few days twisted again. Do not fall for his candour. It’s tainted. He lied to you.
Matt’s gaze suddenly shifted across her shoulder and she followed it to see what had caught his attention. In the distance, a woman wearing a farm-inappropriate dress and high heels stood staring across the paddocks. Her fingers rubbed at her temples as if a blinding headache had her in its vice-like grip. At least Matt had been telling the truth about Hugo having guests.
She turned back to him. ‘Let’s go up to the house and talk. That way I’ll have witnesses to verify the truth of your story.’
‘Claire,’ Matt implored. ‘Please. This needs to be private.’
‘Matt?’ A bitter female voice suddenly hurled itself between them. ‘You’ve got to be kidding! It’s Claire McKenzie? Have you totally lost the plot?’
Claire’s spine stiffened. It had been years since she’d heard the dulcet tones of her childhood adversary but some things weren’t easily forgotten. Claire swung around to find the woman in the dress standing next to her. The intervening years hadn’t changed Rebecca much. She still carried herself with an air of superiority that crawled under Claire’s skin.
‘Hey, Rebecca Sendo. How are things?’
The woman’s berry-red mouth pursed. ‘I’m Bec Petrovic and you know I have been for a long time. Why are you here? This is low even by your standards. Go back to your very busy city life instead of causing heartache and pain for decent people.’
Not even Claire’s deep understanding that she and Rebecca barely tolerated each other could have prepared her for this attack. It was like being slammed into a wall of rancour. ‘Listen, Rebecca, I haven’t done—’
‘There’s two sides to every story, Bec,’ Matt said quietly. ‘You’ve only heard Taylor’s.’
‘And that’s all I need to—’
‘Claire-bear!’
Hugo was striding across the lawn with Adam Petrovic and his daughters. Four puppies accompanied them, playing around their feet. Despite wearing pretty sundresses, the little girls fell onto the dry grass with squeals of delight and tumbled and rolled with the dogs.
Adam nodded briefly to Matt and Claire before shaking Hugo’s hand. ‘Thanks for giving the girls some puppy time, but it’s best I get my skittish wife off the property before she sees that bull. Come on, girls.’
The older daughter immediately stood up but the younger one ignored her father.
‘Gracie! Now!’
Gracie stood up clutching a puppy and sashayed over to her father, batting her long lashes. ‘Can we take this one home, Daddy? Please.’
‘Not today.’ Adam plucked the puppy out of his daughter’s hands and released it onto the ground before putting his hand on Rebecca’s back and guiding her through the gate.
‘Safe drive to Lorne,’ Hugo called out cheerily.
Claire suddenly found herself in the awkward position of standing between Hugo and Matt and waving goodbye to the Petrovics. It was like being unexpectedly catapulted onto a film set and acting a part.
‘Well, that was unfortunate.’ Hugo shot Matt a rueful glance as the SUV disappeared around the bend. ‘They were supposed to visit this morning but you know Adam. His time’s more important than anyone else’s.’
‘Bec’s going to hold a grudge,’ Matt said softly. Miserably.
Hugo slapped a beefy hand onto his shoulder. ‘Half of Myrtle’s going to do that, mate. Just give it some time. It’ll blow over soon enough. I’ve gotta start milking so apart from the puppies, the house is all yours.’
Claire, who was feeling not only invisible but utterly flummoxed, rounded on her friend. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No need, Claire.’
‘Hugo, what the hell’s going on?’
‘Matt’ll explain.’
‘I don’t want Matt to explain anything!’
Matt wrung his hands. ‘I need to talk to you, Claire. I need to explain. I’d have come to your parents’ place but I thought it might make things complicated for you. That’s why I asked Hugo to invite you here.’
‘Might make things complicated?’ Her voice rose to a screech. ‘Hugo, you’ve got no idea—’
‘I have a good idea. Do you trust me, Claire?’
‘Of course I do.’ She pointed an accusatory finger at Matt. ‘It’s him I don’t trust.’
Hugo wrapped his big arms around her and she sank into his embrace, comforted by the safety he always offered. Was her mother right after all? Did she let attraction get in the way of making sensible decisions about men? Should she go with reassuring and secure rather than with tantalising and exciting?
Hugo moved his hands to her shoulders and took a step away from her, his expression serious. ‘Claire-bear, we both know relationships can suck. Listen to what Matt’s got to say and when you’ve got all the facts, that’s when you make up your mind.’
Before Claire could spew out her many objections, Hugo walked away, whistling. His reasonableness irked her and she wished she had a missile handy to hurl at the back of his head.
‘Can we sit?’ Matt indicated a bench in a garden nook that had Julie’s handiwork written all over it.
Unable to decide if she was feeling angry, betrayed, let down by men in general, curious or all of the above, Claire stomped ungraciously to the seat, sat and recrossed her arms. She had no intention of making this easy for him.
Matt joined her. ‘Claire, I’m beyond sorry you heard about Taylor before I had a chance to tell you.’
‘Chance?’ She ground her teeth. ‘You had eleven hours to tell me.’
‘Yeah. It looks bad.’ He rubbed his stubbled cheeks with the back of his fingers. ‘The thing is, if I’d told you I had a girlfriend, but I wasn’t happy and I was intending to break up with her, would you have believed me?’
‘Probably not. And the fact that less than an hour after you dropped me home, I found out the town expected you to propose to her on Christmas Day bears that out.’
‘The town’s wrong. I was never going to propose.’
‘So why did they think that?’
He sighed as his fingers shredded a gum leaf and the pungent scent of eucalyptus filled the space between them. ‘Taylor and I’ve been together for over two years but for the last few months, I’ve been coasting. I wasn’t unhappy but I was starting to feel something was missing. We were in Melbourne over the Cup weekend when she started hinting hard that an engagement ring would make the perfect Christmas present. I realised she saw it as the natural progression of our relationship and for a few weeks, I wondered if committing to marriage was the thing that was missing. But the closer it got to Christmas, the more I knew that getting engaged was the complete opposite of what I wanted.’
‘I’m guessing you didn’t tell her that?’
‘Don’t look at me as if I’m a moron! I thought she deserved better than having her heart broken right on Christmas or New Year. I’d planned to wait until January third or fourth.’ A pained expression crossed his face. ‘And yes, in an ideal world, I should have told you about Tay at the beach, but I didn’t think it was fair to her that you knew I was breaking up with her before she did. I was trying to do it the right way.’
Despite his ethics on this point, a green bomb detonated inside her heart. ‘The right way? You should never have invited me to the beach.’
‘I know. You’re right. The thing is, Claire, I didn’t go to the parade with any intentions of cheating on Taylor. Hell, it’s Myrtle. The chances of meeting anyone new are virtually zilch. And even though I knew I was ending things in just over a week, I had every intention of doing it the right way.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘And then I saw you and half my good intentions vanished in a heartbeat. I convinced myself that if we went to the beach it was just a chance to get to know you and enjoy your company without crossing a line. I mean, it wasn’t that big of a stretch. I’m a grown up. I’ve got control. Only every time you looked at me, I was a goner. It was like someone else took over my body. All I wanted was you. Right up until I met you, I’d always thought that “eyes across a crowded room” thing was bullshit. But there you were. It was like electricity arcing between us. I know you felt it too.’
She’d be lying if she denied it. She’d felt it—she felt it still. An overwhelming pull that defied common sense. An energy that made her behave recklessly and without regard to the consequences. All that mattered was being with him. If he felt a tenth of what she did, she understood his dilemma. It certainly accounted for his pushand-pull, hot-and-cold behaviour at the beach.
The fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him made her dizzy with longing, but as hard as it was, she clung tightly to her unravelling common sense. ‘And what about you and Taylor now?’
He blew out a breath imbued with the remnants of distress. ‘I broke things off with her on Christmas Eve.’
‘That was the day you—’
‘Dropped you home at dawn. Yeah.’
Joy expanded her heart so fast a sharp pain caught her under the ribs. Matt hadn’t waited until January to break up. He’d done it within twenty-four hours of meeting her. Claire’s mind veered towards Taylor, who’d been expecting a marriage proposal at Christmas but had instead got dumped. She pulled back fast. The unknown woman had nothing to do with her. The thing to focus on here was the fact that Matt had put her first.
‘Thank you.’
He shrugged and for the first time since they’d sat down together, he fixed his gaze on her. ‘I didn’t have a choice. Meeting you crystallised why I should have done something months ago. But I didn’t and it’s been a bugger of a Christmas. Mum and Dad aren’t exactly thrilled by my decision and Tamara’s not talking to me. Taylor’s devastated and furious. Yesterday, she slashed my tyres. I’m currently driving one of the farm utes.’
That explained why Claire hadn’t recognised his car when she’d pulled up. ‘Two years is a long time to be with someone.’
‘It is. I’m sorry I couldn’t give her what she wanted.’
‘She would have asked you if there was someone else.’
‘Yeah, she did. But as I’d planned to break up with her before I met you and I didn’t want to add to her hurt, I told her and my family there isn’t anyone else. The only person who knows is Hugo.’
It’s low even by your standards. Rebecca’s vitriol came rushing back and Claire closed her eyes as if the action would protect her. ‘Not anymore. Rebecca’s worked it out and she’s not a fan. By the end of today all of Myrtle and the shire will know.’
He grimaced. ‘Yeah. Sorry. Meeting here was supposed to head off any chance of gossip and give us some time.’
‘Time?’
‘Time to explore this thing that … that …’ He floundered.
She knew what he meant. ‘Breathes between us? Steals our concentration? Consumes us?’
‘All that.’ He laced his fingers with hers and her stomach fluttered. ‘Do you want to explore it?’
Her heart sped up and her body sang. She squeezed his hand. ‘More than anything.’
‘Thank God.’
His hands rose to her cheeks and he kissed her. At first all she tasted was his relief. It flowed into her, scooping up her own and merging with it. It hovered, suspended in liberation and suffused with hope, assuaging the days of hurt. Then need took over, blasting aside everything except overwhelming desire.
It was a kiss for the ages.
Matt pulled away first, his chest heaving. He rested his forehead on hers. ‘I’d take you home right now but—’
‘It’s probably best we don’t appear together in Myrtle just yet.’
‘Thanks for understanding. I promise you, it’s just for a bit. Just long enough for things to die down and for people to get used to the idea of us.’
She stroked his cheek. ‘I love the idea of us.’
‘Me too. And I want to see you. Any ideas how we can make these next few weeks work?’
‘Too easy. I live in the big bad city. How often can you visit?’
* * *
‘What do you say to Daddy?’ Bec turned to Ivy and Gracie while Adam drove them away from the puppies.
‘Thank you, Daddy,’ their daughters chorused.
Adam put his hand on the back of Bec’s neck. ‘Do I get a thank you for coming along and protecting you from those scary cows?’
Bec’s head throbbed but she made herself smile appreciatively. ‘Thank you. I wasn’t expecting it. I know how busy you are trying to sort things out so you can come to Lorne with us.’
She didn’t mention that what he considered to be a chivalrous gesture had thrown her day into chaos. Instead of taking the girls to the farm in the morning to see the puppies, which would have defused their excitement and contributed to their cooperation in the afternoon, she’d had to contend with irritable and at times disobedient children as well as reduced packing time for their annual summer holiday. God, she hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Adam grinned. ‘I didn’t completely trust the girls or soft-touch Hugo not to twist your arm to bring home a puppy.’
‘I wouldn’t do that. I know how you feel about a dog.’
‘Good.’ His fingers rubbed her neck. ‘Looking forward to the holiday?’
‘So much.’ Since Christmas, Adam had been in an expansive mood and Bec didn’t plan to be the pin that popped his happiness balloon.
‘There’s just one thing I have to do on the way.’
‘Daddy!’ the girls groaned. They knew as well as Bec that ‘just one thing’ meant they’d be hanging around waiting for him for at least half an hour.
‘Be good and we’ll have fish and chips on the beach tonight.’
Adam slowed and took a right turn towards the struggling vineyard he’d bought last year, ‘for a song, babe’.
‘Are you going to make wine?’ Bec had asked him, curious about the purchase.
‘Not bloody likely! But we’ll sell the grapes to other wineries while we’re waiting for the rezoning to come through. Then we’ll sell the land and make a killing.’
The wait for the rezoning was taking longer than expected but in typical Adam style, he was making the property work for him. Scotty Ferguson, his lead builder, had moved into the house and was paying rent and the big green shed that had once stored stainless steel wine vats was now being used for framing. Despite some issues with a couple of the seasonal workers, the first grape harvest had been a financial success. Now he was planning a second.
‘Can we come with you, Daddy?’ Gracie asked.
‘No. There’s too much dangerous equipment in the shed.’
‘But I want to say hello to Scotty.’
‘He’s busy. Stay in the car.’
Bec shot her youngest child a look but Gracie was too much like her father.
Crossing her little arms, she pouted and kicked the back of the driver’s seat. ‘But it’s hot!’
‘Stop that!’ Adam released his seatbelt with a jerk. ‘And don’t move.’
His happiness balloon was leaking fast and Bec moved to tie a knot in it to prevent it spiralling away completely. ‘Please leave the keys, Adam. I’ll run the aircon.’
‘Fine. Just keep them in the car, okay?’
She nodded, knowing it wasn’t a question. At least Adam had parked in the shade of a scraggly gum. It was a reasonable distance from the buildings and as she watched him walk away, she saw Scotty’s familiar height in the doorway of the shed. From that distance, it was unlikely he could make her out through the tinted windows but he tilted his head towards the car anyway, acknowledging her as he always did—silently but with care. She went to wave but stalled her hand in case the girls noticed. The two men disappeared inside the cavernous corrugated shed.
She’d always liked the well-mannered and polite Scotty, a feeling that didn’t extended to some of the men who worked for Adam. He complimented her and made her feel so much more than just the boss’s wife—not that she could ever say anything like that to Adam. Although he cheerfully told her if he thought a woman was hot, she’d learned early on to limit her observations about other men to their negative qualities. She’d never mentioned to Adam that Scotty always asked her how she and the girls were doing.
‘Mummy, this is boring!’ Gracie said. ‘Can we watch a movie?’
‘Sure.’ Bec rubbed her temples, trying to alleviate the grinding throb that had started as a mild ache at breakfast and had escalated over the day. Reclining her seat, she closed her eyes and welcomed the red-tinged light through her eyelids. It was as close to dark as she could get and she concentrated on trying to empty her mind.
Her phone buzzed. She reluctantly popped one eye open and Taylor’s name came into focus on the screen. The thought of another excruciating phone call with the distraught woman was more than she could bear right now. It had been hard enough that morning. Taylor had sobbed to Bec that although Matt insisted there wasn’t another woman, she didn’t believe him. ‘Why else would he dump me? I’m going to find out who she is if it kills me.’
Bec had managed to make the appropriate sounds of outrage at Matt Cartwright’s despicable timing as well as soothing noises for Taylor’s obvious distress, but part of her had wanted to say, ‘Marriage isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. Maybe you dodged a bullet. You’ve got the sort of freedom I dream of.’
When she’d been standing alone in Hugo Lang’s garden, looking out across the paddocks, the idea of freedom had hung tantalisingly in front of her like the sparkle of a glittering diamond. Not that Bec knew exactly what constituted freedom, but at that moment she knew it wasn’t the life she was living. Those unwanted thoughts and feelings had swirled and bumped inside her like dodgem cars, leaving her flustered and uneasy, and then she’d spotted Matt Cartwright. He was the last person she’d expected to see and his drawn face and anguished expression had immediately suggested that, despite his diabolical timing, perhaps his treatment of Taylor wasn’t as heartless as she’d been led to believe. It was obvious he was hurting too. But any threads of sympathy she’d been weaving together were ripped apart the moment she’d recognised Claire McKenzie—the woman who’d been given the freedom to leave Myrtle that Bec had been denied.
The moment Claire’s supercilious voice had spoken Bec’s maiden name, she’d seen red. She’d gone in guns blazing, defending Taylor, who, although they played netball together, Bec didn’t count as a close friend. Still, did that matter? Shouldn’t women stick together, especially when one of the sisterhood was behaving badly? If anyone was capable of behaving badly, it was Claire McKenzie.
Bec sat forward with a start and grabbed her phone. Taylor deserved to know about Casual Claire and Claire deserved everything she got and then some. With fingers flying, she typed, Ask Claire McKenzie how well she knows Matt. Her thumb was set to press send when she recalled Matt saying, ‘There are two sides to every story.’
Bec slumped back against the seat. She knew all about two sides and how only one was ever public. Reluctantly, she tapped the back button, emptying the text box of the incriminating words. She hadn’t deleted them to protect Claire. She was protecting herself.
‘Mummy, who’s that?’ Ivy asked.
Bec looked up from her phone. ‘Who?’
‘Over there.’ Ivy pointed.
An underweight man with heavily tattooed arms and wearing black pants and a black death metal T-shirt was walking out from between the vines. His pale skin said he didn’t spend much time in the light of day.
‘He looks scary, Mummy.’
Bec understood why her sheltered daughter thought this, and to be honest, the man’s presence made her uneasy too. She pressed a button on the console and the locks engaged with a loud clunk. ‘I’ll ask Daddy.’
She texted Adam. Skinny carny-type guy in vines.
Settle petal. That’s Travis. He’s harmless. Doing community service weeding around the vines.
The fact that a guy wearing a T-shirt proclaiming aborted fetus in dripping red letters was on mandated community service didn’t sound harmless to her. ‘It’s okay, Ives,’ she said brightly. ‘The man works for Daddy.’
‘He doesn’t look like he works for Daddy.’
Bec knew what Ivy meant. All of Adam’s tradies wore the company’s red polo shirts.
‘I don’t like it here, Mummy. I want to go to the beach.’
‘Me too.’
But it wasn’t the glistening ocean and the golden sands that called her. It was somewhere else entirely.