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CHAPTER ONE Hinchliff, northern New South Wales, Australia “NO! NAUGHTY TIMMY. Give back to Rowdy!” “Make me, loser!” “I tell Daddy, bad boy!” “Go on, baby,” came the taunting older child’s voice. “See if Dad cares. See if he even hears you!” Jennifer March sighed, and laid her latest handmade quilt on her lap. The family next door were at it again. They’d only moved in seven days ago, but she’d heard little except the fighting and yelling. She’d crossed the fence four times to introduce herself, but returned home in silence when she heard the fights or discipline happening at the time. Given small towns, she could know all about them now, if she chose to; but with all the gossip and speculation she’d endured in her past, she’d preferred to close off confidences, and wait for the people next door to come to her. So far she’d waited in vain. Maybe they weren’t the kind of people to want to introduce themselves to the only neighbour they had—but the kids at least weren’t private. The bou
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO NOAH DROPSY BRANNIGAN had the worst kind of smile. The kind that made her forget what she was doing, right in the middle of doing it. That was bad. Really bad—because she hadn’t had that kind of reaction to a man since Mark McBride had walked into her life when she was seventeen. And he’d walked right back out seven years later, three months before Cody had his final attack, and all the medication in the world hadn’t been enough to make him breathe again. Her right fist clenched hard to stop the shaking. She looked down at it in the usual half-disbelieving revulsion. It had been happening for two years, just like that. Why was it only one of her hands trembled? It was as if she were having a one-sided brain malfunction. She’d done all she could to return to a normal life. She’d accepted the past—and her future. She was a genetic Cystic Fibrosis carrier, and until they found a cure, she couldn’t risk having more kids. Mark, a recessive carrier, was long gone, living a far le
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE IT WAS almost half-past nine when he finally walked out his back door. Watching from where she sat on a rocking swing on her side verandah, Jennifer waited another minute before rising to her feet. She didn’t want to seem anxious—as if she saw him and ran for him. As if she saw him as something more than just a new neighbour. As if he were a man she felt compelled to reach out to, to be with, even when the reminders of his runaway wife cast a shadow so dark she could barely see the man he’d been. A runaway wife, a runaway son…but she refused to judge him as the cause of both. After all, Mark had run from her, too; and the gentleness with which Noah treated his kids—the hurt in his eyes, the shadows of the past—showed the man he was. A man who wanted to be her friend. A man who needed a friend right now—and oh, she’d been there. Holding it all in, aching sometimes for just one person to understand… I can understand. I’ve been there—well, almost. So, they’d be friends. Righ
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR Six weeks later “JENNY! Jenny, we’re here!” As she sipped her morning coffee, she found herself smiling at Rowdy’s enthusiastic interruption to her routine. Usually this was her quiet time before the other kids arrived, but Tim, Cilla and Rowdy weren’t “other” kids. What it was about them that called her so strongly, she only wished she knew. She loved all the children she cared for but the Brannigans had broken through the eggshell-thin wall of self-protection around her heart. Perhaps it was because the family needed her so much. No, the Brannigan children needed her. Noah only needed her child-minding skills. Apart from the days she had the kids, he’d been over only twice in the past six weeks—to draw up the plans, and show them to her. He’d called to let her know the local council had approved the plans, and again to let her know he’d be starting work today. He was cutting and assembling her new cubby house in his yard, and would bring it over when it was done. “I thou
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE TIM came into the house without his usual passive-aggressive behaviour that disrupted the family—and Noah knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Dad, you got one of those big letters again.” The kids always left him alone to read them. They knew better than to get him going on “big letter” days—they just didn’t know what the letters were or why they got to him. He carried the letter into the kitchen, got a beer out and sat at the table. He knew he’d need it. Phone calls were positive news, a lead or a sighting of Belinda; a letter was always bad. Dear Mr Brannigan, It is with regret that I inform you we found the woman in question, and there is no possible way she could be your wife. Her name is Sandra Langtry, and she lives in a bush cabin in Broadwater National Park with her family. She has lived an alternative lifestyle for eighteen years and has given birth to four children in the past twelve years… The words blurred in front of his eyes. It was over. The on
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX HE WAS watching her, every time he thought she wasn’t looking. Talk about basket cases…! Jennifer kept her attention on the kids as they ate, and again as she washed up; but it was hard to avoid him when he insisted on helping bath Cilla and Rowdy and putting them to bed. Then he also wiped the dishes before he returned to work. It was even harder to act normal when he kept looking at her as if he was waiting for her to burst out again. Well, you did before… I am a strong woman. I do not need to lean on a man. I do not need a family to complete me. I can stand alone. I have a good life! Her hand might be shaking, but it was a fine tremor hardly noticeable, she thought. She had it under control this time. So what if a few plates fell back into the dishwater? Soap made them slippery. He couldn’t make anything out of that, surely. He was still watching. Would he never speak? She kept waiting for him to go off, like a bomb with a faulty timer. She refused to say a word beyond a
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN HE HAD to do this. It’s for Tim and Cilla. Noah stood outside the door in the children’s ward at a private hospital near Lismore, an hour north of Hinchliff, reading the sign in silent loathing. Maggie Horner, Social Worker And Grief Counsellor. He’d thought he’d seen the last of the professionals trained to help him—making him feel like not only a basket case, but a bad husband and a failure of a father. It’s not your fault, Noah, you’re only human. You can’t take responsibility for everything that goes wrong in the lives of those you love. It was just a pretty way of calling him a control freak. How could they know anything? They learned it all from books, got a degree, and thought they knew life. When had their wife taken off and left them with three kids under six? This isn’t for me. I have to learn how to help Tim and Cilla. I can’t keep leaving it to Jennifer. I can’t make the kids—or Jennifer—dependent. It isn’t fair. He pushed open the door—and rocked back on his
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT “I CAN’T tell you—I promised the lad I’d keep his secret,” Joe was saying for the fourth time. “I’m sure he’s not in any danger. I swear he hasn’t run off, Noah.” “Promises. Swearing. What is that supposed to mean?” Noah snapped. “You think it counts for anything with me, when it’s just about dark and my son’s missing?” Noah’s voice cracked; he pulled out his phone again. “Don’t do it!” Again Joe reached out to stop him. “The little lad was that excited, Noah. If you call Sherbrooke on him now, you’ll ruin it all.” “So you keep saying. Tell me why!” When Joe shook his head, Noah lost it. “Then damn your promises and Tim’s surprise! My eight-year-old son is missing, it’s almost night and you expect me to—” “To trust your son! Yes, I do!” Joe snapped back. “Give him ten more minutes! That’s all I’m asking.” “That’s what I did with Belinda,” he snarled at the older man. “I trusted her to come home! After my five-year-old son called me to come home because the babysitter had
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE THEY headed for home as soon as Noah picked up the pizzas he’d ordered. As they turned into the long driveway leading to her place, Jennifer knew her veneer of serenity was cracking, breaking open to show her vulnerability every time he looked at her, every time he spoke. She was surrendering to the needs of a body and heart too long buried beneath grief—and yes, the anger she couldn’t totally bury, no matter how hard she tried. And she was hurt…hurt that Noah had kissed her, awakening her body, only to— Oh, get over yourself. You’ve been into him from first sight. The kiss only made it real. Don’t think about it! Just bury the memory. You’re good at that. Thinking about the rage and grief would lead her straight back to the pit she’d lived in too long after she’d buried her son. Acceptance and moving on was the only option. “I’m sorry, Jennifer,” Noah said, a welcome break into morbid thoughts she didn’t want to indulge in. “I lied to you about why we moved here, and why
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN JENNIFER knew something was wrong when Noah showed up late the next morning—just before the other kids and parents arrived—and alone. With a brief “good morning, Jennifer,” he taped up the west-facing windows. “Where are the kids?” she asked, frowning. “With their grandparents—remember? I told you last night,” he replied. “Excuse me. I’m starting the actual building today, as you know, so I’ll be putting the barricades up to block the kids from coming in.” He turned and walked out the door. She followed him out, too angry to think. “And that’s it? You turn up late, don’t even bring the kids to say goodbye—” He just kept walking. “The kids needed time out, away from here.” That silenced her for a few moments. “I see,” she said eventually. They were alone… Burning heat flashed across her cheeks. As if she floated in the sky above them the night before, she saw them entwined on the blanket, kissing as if it were the last night on earth… The look he threw at her held a tamped-d
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN JENNIFER stared at him. “What?” Mark? He actually thought— She frowned and pulled away from him, feeling bewildered and betrayed. “You couldn’t even wait four hours, could you? I thought we were supposed to just enjoy the day, to enjoy our week together. But you’re pushing for what I’ve already told you is impossible!” The waitress arrived at the doorway, looking for them at that moment. “Your lunch is ready,” she called, with a smile. They walked back to the café, but without the tender connection of earlier—and she found herself grieving for what she’d only had for a few hours. He’d promised her a week… The waitress put the steaming pizza on their table, along with their cutlery and plates. “Enjoy, folks. Would you like something to drink with that? Some sparkling apple juice, or ginger ale, or cold water?” “No, thanks.” Though Noah smiled up at the woman, he had that repressed intensity about him again. The moment she was gone he turned back to her, his eyes burning.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE “DO YOU want me to go?” Jennifer asked quietly after a few moments, feeling out of place here, with the man who’d proposed to her this day, the same day he found out his wife was dead. Noah stared around at her, his eyes blank and unseeing. “No.” The word was plain, stark in its raw emotion. She shivered with the intensity of it. “Are you sure, Noah? Your parents-in-law will hate me being here.” There were many answers he could give to that, firstly that they weren’t his parents-in-law anymore, and had no place in his private life. What she didn’t expect was what he did say. “Don’t go. I need you.” She shivered again, but came around the chair to face him, and slipped her hands into his. After a hesitation, she murmured, “How are you feeling?” A moment passed, two…ten, twenty; then he finally said, “I don’t know. I don’t know.” His honesty hurt her. She knew she should be his friend now, to explore his feelings about Belinda since he’d discovered she’d never left him; bu
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN IT WAS after ten by the time they finally got the kids to bed. She’d sung a dozen lullabies to Cilla, and they’d had to lay on either side of Tim and hold him as he cried himself to sleep. Rowdy, tired out by his crying, had fallen asleep hours ago, even before dinner. In the living room again, Jennifer stretched, feeling the bones crack in her back. She was so tired—but there was more to come. There was no way Noah would let her leave without… The gulp hurt her throat and chest. He had the right to expect something from her. If she’d meant her rejection today, she shouldn’t have kissed him and allowed him to touch her with such intimacy. She shouldn’t have almost demanded they make love. And oh, how she still wanted to—she ached for him—but could she take him into her arms, spend the night in his bed, and then reject his proposal a second time? When she heard his step on the floorboards, she almost turned tail and ran. Then she felt ashamed. If Noah could face her the
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN THE fire had gone out again. With a savage sound of impatience, Noah got out the box of fire-lighters again, and, giving up on economy, put four cubes under the logs at once, screwed up newspaper as well and put it everywhere, and lit it all. He stepped back, locked the fire guards into place and stood there watching, hands shoved in pockets and kicking at a piece of coal. How could a life so full, with so little free time, still feel so empty? Tim’s words had been bashing around in his head like a hollow drum for the past hour or more. If you want Jen back so bad, why don’t you go and get her? Six weeks—such a short time, yet it felt like a year since he’d seen her. He didn’t look up the hill. He didn’t look for her lights at night, and wonder if she’d come to him. It was obvious she was avoiding him. He knew better than to look. She hadn’t changed her mind. She loved him, but not enough. He might have looked for her during the first few days after they’d come back fr
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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