by Annie Seaton
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Glossary of Australian Terms
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Find your Bliss with these great releases… The Christmas Promise
Blame It on the Bet
Her Cowboy’s Promise
Falling for Her Enemy
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Annie Seaton. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
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Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Bliss is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit http://www.entangledpublishing.com/category/bliss
Edited by Erin Molta
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Cover art from Shutterstock
ISBN 978-1-64063-378-0
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition October 2017
For my beautiful grandchildren:
Benjamin, Charlotte, and our new baby, Charlie.
Prologue
Angie
Two years ago—London
The air was filled with tension. Liam stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking over her head at the clouds. His lips were set tight, and all Angie could think was that he was keen to see her go so he could get to work for his night shift. The ache that held her by the throat as she fought back tears was almost impossible to bear.
“Looks like more rain coming.” His voice was soft.
“Yes. It’s been a wet autumn.”
“Ange? I’m going to miss you.” Liam reached out and his fingers caressed her cheek. It took a superhuman effort not to break down and beg him to come home with her.
“Yeah.” She was saved by the headlights of the small black cab reflecting on the puddles of rain as it came around the corner. “You’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
“Me?” Her voice was hard. “Of course I will. It’s been fun, Liam, but life goes on. We always knew my visa would run out and I’d have to go back home to Australia.”
She reached down to pick up her suitcase as the cab lurched to a stop with a spray of water arcing through the streetlights, but Liam reached out and took her hand before she could grip the handle. His other hand gently held her chin, and she closed her eyes as his lips descended on hers. She bit back the sigh as he kissed her. It was as though he was trying to tell her something as his lips clung to hers. His hand trembled on her back, and she opened her eyes and pulled away to stare at him. His eyes were dark and hooded, but for a moment Angie could swear she saw a glint of moisture in them and it almost brought her tears to the fore. Liam brushed his thumb across her cheek and she bit her lip.
“It’s not going to be the same without you here, Ange.”
Say you’ve changed your mind. Come home with me. The plea filled her thoughts but she wouldn’t let the words cross her lips. Please.
“You ready, luv?” The Cockney voice of the cabdriver broke the moment and Angie bent down to pick up her small suitcase. She’d sent the two big ones to the airport via a courier earlier that day.
“I am.”
One last kiss. She would allow herself that. From now on, all she’d have to keep her warm at night were memories. Angie stood on her toes and placed her lips against Liam’s.
“Good-bye,” she murmured. She didn’t look back as she tore herself away and ran down the steps to the cab.
…
Liam
The high-pitched chorus of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” shattered Liam Smythe’s deep sleep. He jerked awake and fumbled for his phone in the dark. He glanced at the bright digital figures of his watch sitting on the bedside table as he lifted the phone to his ear.
What the—three a.m.? And where was he? Another bloody hotel in what town? Liam had to think for a minute before he remembered he was in London. In his own bed in his apartment.
God, he hated calls that came in the middle of the night. Always bad news.
“Liam Smythe.” He cleared his throat; his voice gravelly from the one too many drinks he’d had when the news desk staff had wandered down to the West End after last night’s shift. He’d been doing too much of that since Angie had gone back to Australia.
Way too much.
It was time he pulled back a bit on the pub visits every night after the staff put the paper to bed.
“Is that my favourite grandson?” A sweet voice chimed over the line, all the way from Down Under—all the way from the Pilliga Scrub in the Australian outback, to be precise.
More than ten thousand miles away from his safe and quiet apartment on the bank of the Thames River in London.
But Liam wasn’t fooled. That sweet little voice belonged to a woman with a backbone of steel. He sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair, as if she could see him.
“Hey, Gran.” He leaned back against the bedhead and reached for a cigarette, before remembering he’d given them up last month. “What’s new?”
Chapter One
Liam Smythe hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and stepped onto the footpath outside Sydney International Airport. Crowds of people rushed past him, in and out of the sliding doors, horns blared, and car fumes hung in the air. He could have been in any city in the world. Travellers queued for taxis, purpose written on their faces, and for the first time in a long while, Liam realised he, too, had a purpose today. Out of habit, he patted his shirt pocket for a cigarette and then remembered—again—that he’d given up. Nor had he had one drink on the whole thirty-hour flight from London. He was coming back home and determined to have a healthy lifestyle. It would be easy—all that fresh country air and Gran’s cooking.
Gran had said she wanted them all home as soon as they could come. “Your grandfather has to go to the hospital, and I can’t cope with the wheat harvest, the cattle work, and the cooking by myself.”
“Of course, Gran.” Liam had agreed without thinking it through; after all, family came first. It was only after he’d ended the call that he wondered if she had an ulterior motive for getting them all home. Knowing Gran, there was more to it.
He tipped his head back and stared at the vivid blue sky. Even here in the city, the sky was a brilliant blue. Nowhere else in the world was the sky this depth of colour. He was looking forward to getting out west where it was an even deeper hue.
To the big sky of the outback.
The only place where he’d ever felt truly at home. He’d searched from Indonesia to the United States and had kidded himself he’d been fairly settled in London for th
e past two years. He had been until— No, don’t go there.
Liam glanced at his watch. He’d taken an earlier flight and called his younger sister, Jemima, from the transit lounge in Dubai. She’d agreed to wait until he arrived in Sydney so they could travel out to Prickle Creek Farm together.
“So what’s the go?” he’d asked his sister on the phone.
“I don’t know. I’ve got a horrid feeling that Pop is really sick. That’s the only reason I’m going back out there.”
“I was surprised you said yes. What about Lucy and Seb? Did they get the call, too?”
“Lucy’s already gone home but she said Seb won’t go.”
“Not surprised. He and Gran had a huge ding-dong row a couple of years back. He said some pretty nasty stuff to her. Seb always held a grudge when we were kids, too.”
“And you were the perfect child? Give me a break, Liam. You and Seb were always trying to be the best at everything, and you always fought with him.”
It was true. The rivalry between the cousins when they’d been kids had been strong, but those days of growing up at Spring Downs had forged a bond between them all. It was sad that life and tragedy had broken it. They were grown up now and all very different people. In one way, he hoped that Seb didn’t come out to the farm. Liam could handle Jem and Lucy without getting his emotions all fired up, but one word from Seb—and he was the master of sarcastic comments—would bring him undone.
A taxi driver blared his horn in one continuous blast and Liam stared at the line of cars picking up passengers. He shook his head. Had he really chucked his job at one of the top British newspapers and headed home after one phone call from his grandmother? Especially in the current job market where journalists were being retrenched all over Australia and the market for freelance work was drying up. After he’d had a break, he’d have to go back overseas to resume his career. That’s where he’d made his name, and that’s where he’d have more chance of a high-powered job, and success. He must have had a bad hangover the night Gran had called. Agreeing to come home had perhaps been a rash decision. A wheat and cattle farm in the Pilliga Scrub was a long way from the lights of London. Deep down, he knew the reason he had agreed so quickly, but he wasn’t going to share that with anyone. Hell, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself. And maybe deep down he knew he had to make a change to his lifestyle.
Jeez, he just needed a break. He ran his hand through his short-cropped hair. The last couple of years had been tough. A quick visit to check that his grandparents were okay, maybe look Angie up—just maybe, and only to check she was okay, nothing more—and then he’d be back off into the wide world again.
His phone buzzed.
“Liam? Where are you?” He listened to the precise tones of his sister’s voice. She’d worked hard to get her accent in place. She sounded more posh than the Sloane Rangers—the fashionable upper-class young women of London—he’d gone out with when he’d first arrived in London. Being a rugged Aussie in London, and working on Fleet Street, had given him entry into the social events where all the pretty girls hung out. But he hadn’t done that for very long. Not after that wonderful night at the Feathers pub in Euston where he’d thought he’d met the love of his life.
“I’m already out on the footpath where the drop-off and pick-up is. Where are you, pipsqueak?”
“Don’t call me that,” Jemima said, irritation lacing her voice, and Liam grinned. “Wait for me there. That way I won’t have to pay for parking. I won’t be long, just coming through the Eastern Distributor Tunnel now. I’d like to drive out to the farm today.”
He grinned. Always the organiser, his little sister.
“Sounds like a plan. See you, Jemmy.”
“Jemima.” She was not amused. Liam’s grin widened. He could still push her buttons. It would be fun being with family again. Life had been serious for too long. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good belly laugh.
Liam waited on the edge of the footpath as instructed. His eyes widened when a silver Audi TT pulled up beside him. Jemima called through the window. “Liam, over here.”
He shook his head as he hefted his bag into the back and climbed into the front seat. “Hey, sis. Nice wheels. You must be doing okay.”
She didn’t answer but blew him an air-kiss as he closed the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she indicated and pulled out into the traffic. “So, are you okay to go out west today? Don’t need a sleep first?”
“I can sleep in the car on the way out.”
“Good. I figure the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can get back to the city.”
“Yeah. We’re on the same wavelength there.” Liam nodded and gestured to the fancy dashboard of the Audi. “Are you stopping somewhere to pick up another car or are you going to turn up in this and get the look of disapproval from Gran?”
“This is my car, and this is what we are driving to Prickle Creek Farm. And this is what we will arrive in.” Jemima’s face was set in a closed expression. “If she wants us out there so much, she’ll get us on our terms. We’ve moved on since we all left there as teenagers. If Gran doesn’t like how we live now, she can lump it.”
Liam shrugged and leaned his head back on the seat. “You’re a brave woman, taking on Gran. Wake me up when we hit the first coffee stop out of the city. I’ll need a hit of caffeine before I can share the driving.”
For the first time Jemima’s face cracked into a wide and genuine smile. “Oh no you don’t, big brother. You’re not getting your hands on this baby. I’ll drive the whole way, thank you very much.”
…
Ten months later
Liam Smythe sat in the waiting room of the vet surgery at Spring Downs, a small town in the middle of outback New South Wales. He’d been there for two hours and was getting antsy. Along with the embarrassment that heated his neck every time someone smiled at the cute little dog asleep on his lap—the furthest from a working dog you could imagine—he was losing his cool with the long wait. He didn’t have time to hang around in town.
When he had arrived in response to Gran’s urgent summons last summer with Seb, Lucy, and Jemima, they had each agreed to work the property for three months until they all met at the end of a year. As a family they would then decide whether to keep or sell the farm. Now that Pop was sure that Liam could cope, he and Gran had headed off on their cruise of the Pacific; Liam was working the farm single-handedly for a couple more months. Seb had taken the photography contract in Europe and it had been extended. Lucy had married Garth, her old flame from next door, and only had a few weeks to go before she gave birth to their first child. Jemima was in New York; the offer of a six-month contract with the Eileen Ford agency had been too good to refuse. Gran and Pop were cruising the world, with Liam settled on the farm, treating this year as a break. Gran and Pop deserved a holiday. They’d worked hard their entire lives, and it was giving him a chance to think about what he wanted to do with his life. Liam pondered the change in direction his life had taken over the past year. The deal had been that the four cousins would take turns to look after the farm for a year, before their grandparents decided what to do with it. Sell it or keep it in the family. Pop was getting too old to do the heavy work, and his knees had just about worn out. Liam couldn’t believe how quickly he’d taken to farm life again, and how much he was enjoying the work, but he had to stop playing farmer and get back to his real life sooner rather than later.
He squirmed on the hard plastic chair and his dusty work boots scuffed on the shiny linoleum floor. Every so often the receptionist would shoot him a glance along with a placating smile, but when he went to the desk to ask how much longer the wait to see the vet would be, the woman would either pick up the phone or disappear out the back. He was the only one waiting now, so surely he would be next in. In a way, he was sorry he’d said the dog’s injury wasn’t urgent, but there had been some very sick animals who had come in.
God, this is what I get for being a good Samari
tan. A whole bloody wasted afternoon. He was supposed to be moving the cattle from the back paddock to the yards near the hayshed, ready for the truck to take them to the cattle sales in Coonamble tomorrow. He’d have to be up at the crack of dawn to move them if he didn’t get out of here soon.
“Oh, Mummy, look. What a cutie pie.”
Great. Just great. Just what he needed to top off an already shitty day. More comments about his cute dog. Every pet owner or cattleman who had passed through the waiting room in the last two hours had commented—some cute, some smart—about his fine-looking working-dog pup. In Liam’s books, the thing sitting on his lap wasn’t a dog. It was a toy. It had no place in his life, in his work ute, or anywhere near a farm. He resisted the eye roll that threatened when the small girl stood in front of him and tickled the puppy’s chin.
“Oh, he’s so beautiful. What sort is he? We’ve got a Dalmatian. His name is Brutus.” Liam looked over to the doorway where a slightly built woman was attempting to wrestle a huge black and white spotted dog into the waiting room.
“Here, you can hold him for me.” He passed the still sleeping puppy to the child and crossed the room to hold open the door for the woman as she dragged the dog inside.
“What’s his name?” The little girl’s voice followed him.
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
Another shrug. “He’s not my dog.”
He held the door wide as the woman managed to entice the Dalmatian into the waiting room. He bounded over to Liam and before she could pull the lead short the dog’s nose dived straight for Liam’s crotch.
Can this day get any worse? He stepped back from the nose probing his privates.
“Sorry. And thank you,” the woman said. The door closed behind her and she dragged the monster dog to the chair on the other side of the waiting room. Liam went back to his seat.
Finally, the receptionist came through the door behind the desk. “Hello, Sally. Hi, Lily. Bring Brutus over to the scales and we’ll weigh him and then you can come into the examination room.”