Clearly there were many strands to Bella’s life, and the city office girl who loved high fashion and fancy nail polish was quite possibly a brave front. Now, more than ever, Zoe could understand why her friend had chosen a steadfast and reliable partner like Kent. A good, rock-solid husband. A loving man who knew all about her, a guy who would help to shoulder her worries about her father.
There was no doubt about it. Kent was Bella’s perfect match in every way.
Right. OK.
Fortunately, Zoe locked in that thought scant seconds before she heard Kent’s footsteps returning down the passage to the kitchen. She had her smile fixed in place before he entered.
Even so, she felt a zap of reaction the instant she saw him. There was something impossibly appealing about Kent Rigby, something about his tanned profile, about his dark, friendly eyes and the flash of his smile that made Zoe feel as bright and shimmering as a sunrise.
Which proved how very foolish she was. Apart from the very important fact that the man was taken—by her best friend, no less—she should have enough bad memories of Rodney the Rat to douse any sparks of unwanted libido.
‘How’s Bella?’ she asked Kent.
‘She’s upset, of course, and mad as hell with her dad. He’d started going to AA and we thought he was going to be fine now.’
‘Perhaps he’s just had one slip and he’ll be back on the wagon tomorrow.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Kent let out a sigh. ‘Tom had problems with grog when he was young, but he was dry the whole time he and Mary were married. Since her death, he’s been on a downhill slide.’
‘Poor man. And poor Bella. She must feel so helpless.’
Kent nodded. ‘It must have been a shock for you, too, coming across him like that.’
‘Well, yes, it was, but only because it was so unexpected. And Bella was so upset.’ Zoe lifted her now empty mug. ‘Thanks for the tea. It was just what I needed.’ She stood. ‘I guess you’ll want to get over to Bella’s place straight away.’
‘Later. Tom’s asleep right now and Bella wants a bit of time to sort the place out.’ Kent went to the fridge, opened it and stood staring at its contents. ‘I’ll fix a meal for us first.’
‘For us?’
‘Yep—we’re on our own tonight.’
‘B-but you don’t have to feed me.’ Zoe was stammering, rattled by the possibility of a meal alone with this man. ‘I can go into town. I’ll stay at the pub and grab a meal there.’
‘Zoe, relax.’ Shutting the fridge once more, Kent grinned at her. ‘You’re president and secretary of our wedding planning committee. Of course, you’re very welcome here. You can stay the night, and you can have the same room as last time.’
She was about to protest again, when she realised it might come across as rude. Kent was keeping up his reputation for country hospitality. He might be upset if she refused.
‘Thanks,’ she said. Then, to cover any giveaway signs of attraction, she surveyed the kitchen with her most businesslike glance. ‘So what can I do to help you?’
‘If we dig out the sheets now, you can make up your bed while I throw a couple of steaks in a pan.’
Already Kent was heading out of the kitchen and Zoe hurried after him. The linen cupboard was in a hallway, and he flipped the louvred doors open, releasing a faint scent of lavender.
‘This is where I run into trouble.’ A small smile made attractive creases around his dark eyes. ‘I haven’t a clue which sheets I’m supposed to give you.’
Zoe gulped. Discussing bed sheets with Kent was her wickedest fantasy rolled into her worst nightmare. ‘I think I used those pink striped sheets last time.’
‘Terrific.’ He was already lifting them from the shelf. ‘I’m sure they’ll do.’
His wrists brushed against her as he handed her the sheets. It was a relief to disappear into the guest room and get busy making the bed.
Once this was done, she freshened up in the bathroom, brushed her hair and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. If only she could switch off her hormones as easily as she changed her clothes.
The scent of frying steak and onions greeted her when she came back into the kitchen. And the rather fetching sight of Kent standing at the stove, changed into a clean white, correctly buttoned shirt.
He sent her another of his flashing smiles, but then his smile went super still, and he continued to stare at Zoe, a slight frown now warring with his grin.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’ve let your hair down.’
Zap! A bushfire scorched her skin. She fingered her hair, dark and straight like her mum’s, and now skimming her shoulders. ‘I didn’t know it was a crime for a girl to let her hair down on a Friday evening.’
‘Course it isn’t.’ Kent shrugged and turned back to the steaks, flipping them over. Without looking at her, he said, ‘It looks great either way. In your bridesmaid’s outfit you’re going to knock the local yokels for six.’
The comment warranted another very stern lecture to herself. His compliment would go to her head. It should be possible to have a normal conversation with him without overreacting to every second sentence.
Desperate to appear cool and unaffected, she said glibly, ‘That’s reassuring to know. I’m on the lookout for a spare farmer.’
‘Are you?’
It wasn’t the flippant or teasing response she’d expected from Kent. His head had jerked around and his dark eyes were surprisingly intense.
Now she was more flustered than ever. ‘Of course I’m not serious,’ she said tightly. ‘That was my poor attempt at a joke.’
Time to put an end to this subject. She looked around her. ‘What can I do to help? Why don’t I make a salad to go with the steak?’
Kent’s thoughts were apparently elsewhere and he took a moment to answer her.
‘Sure,’ he said at last, and then, after a beat, his usual smile was back in place. ‘Trust a girl to want to spoil a good steak with rabbit food.’
They ate on the back veranda, looking out at the idyllic view of the soft, velvety hills and fields as they were slowly enveloped by the shadowy night.
Zoe wondered what she and Kent would talk about now. Given her recent gaffes, she wasn’t sure she could cope with a conversation about Bella and the wedding. She wanted to ask Kent about the property. That was safe, and she was genuinely curious about the crops and grazing herds. Details of farm life had always fascinated her.
But it seemed Kent had other ideas. As he speared a tomato cube and a chunk of cucumber he said, ‘So, tell me about yourself, Zoe.’
‘Me?’
‘Why not?’ His smile was relaxed and easy once more and when she hesitated, he said, ‘You’re Bella’s best friend and your friendship’s not going to come to an end when we’re married. I expect you’ll be an important part of our lives for a very long time.’
Would she? Zoe had been hoping that her life beyond the wedding would be Kent-free. How else could she get back to normal? How could she stand the strain of an ongoing friendship with Bella and Kent if they remained close friends way into the future? Good grief, surely she wouldn’t still be a jangling wreck when she was eighty?
It was an alarming prospect. Added to that, Zoe didn’t really enjoy talking about herself. As a child she’d been forever arriving at new schools and answering the same old questions over and over. ‘I’ve already told you about my parents and how I spent most of my childhood on the road.’
‘But your parents have stopped touring now, haven’t they?’
She nodded, then took a sip of the chilled white wine Kent had poured for her. And as she put the glass down she found herself telling him about the music shop in Sugar Bay and her little brother, Toby. And then, because he smiled so encouragingly, she told him about Toby’s soccer ambitions and his endless experiments and their family’s Saturday night barbecues when her parents had jam sessions with old mates.
‘Sounds like they’re a lot of fun,’ Kent said
sincerely. ‘Would you like to live at the bay?’
‘I—I’m not sure.’ Zoe pulled a face. ‘If I’m honest I feel a bit resentful that Mum and Dad waited till Toby came along before they settled down. He’s having a very different childhood from mine.’
She shrugged. ‘The bay’s a great place to visit, but I like Brisbane, too.’ And the country. But she wouldn’t tell Kent that. ‘I have to make my own life, don’t I?’
‘Of course.’ He was watching her carefully again. ‘And the world’s your oyster,’ he said quietly.
‘Well, yes … Actually, I’m thinking about heading overseas.’
‘You’ll love it,’ he said, but now his smile was tinged with a bewildering hint of sadness and for the first time Zoe wondered if he felt trapped at Willara Downs.
Curiosity prompted her to say, ‘I’ve often wondered what it’s like to grow up in one place and know you’ll spend your whole life there.’
‘Do you think it sounds boring?’
‘No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.’
A frown furrowed Kent’s brow and his dark eyes registered something very close to dismay.
Fearing she’d said too much, Zoe took a quick sip of her wine.
But whatever had bothered Kent passed and he was soon relaxed again. ‘I love living here,’ he said. ‘It’s not just the land and the lifestyle. For me, it’s the strong feeling of continuity. My family’s been here from the start. My great-great-great-grandfather looked after the horses on one of the earliest explorations and he fell in love with this district and settled here more than a hundred and fifty years ago.’
‘Wow.’ Zoe looked out at the view that had almost disappeared. ‘All that history.’
Kent nodded. ‘My grandfather and my great-grandfather both went away to the wars, and while they were gone the women and children ran the farms for them.’ Across the table Kent’s eyes met Zoe’s. ‘The responsibility of continuing those traditions means a great deal to me.’
‘I’m sure it does. I feel goose bumps just thinking about it.’ Zoe loved the idea of such permanence and such a deeply rooted sense of belonging.
‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t love travelling as well,’ Kent added with a twinkling smile.
‘Have you travelled very far?’
‘When I was nineteen I had a year off—backpacking with Steve, my best man, around Europe.’
‘What was your favourite place?’
‘Prague,’ he answered without hesitation.
‘That’s interesting. Most people choose Paris or London or Rome. Even Barcelona.’
‘Or Venice.’
‘Yes.’ She smiled, pleased that Kent was relaxed again. When he looked at her with his serious expression, the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly, but everything felt in the right balance again now. ‘So what did you love about Prague?’
Kent laughed. ‘If Steve was here, he’d rave about the Czech beer. But for me it was the old city at Christmas time. It was snowing and unbelievably beautiful—the buildings, the pavements, the cafés, the restaurants. Everything in Prague is so old and dripping with history. Not a plastic Christmas tree in sight.’
‘That sounds lovely. I must remember to try to be in Prague at Christmas.’
‘Yes, do that.’ For a moment there was a flicker of something in Kent’s eyes. It might have been regret, but then he cracked a grin. ‘And send me a postcard.’
‘I will. I promise.’
‘By the way,’ he said, ‘you still haven’t told me your favourite colour.’
‘And you haven’t told me why you want to know.’
‘Patience, Zoe. All in good time.’
‘What if said I don’t have a favourite?’
He laughed. ‘I’d believe you. Neither do I.’
They laughed together then, and for a heady few seconds their gazes reached across the table and locked. For Zoe, it was like the moment beside the road when her entire being had felt connected to Kent’s.
Then Kent broke the spell by looking away and deliberately reaching for his beer. And Zoe thudded back to earth. To reality.
She was such an idiot.
After that, they both turned their attention to their meals, but, although Zoe’s steak was tender and the salad crisp, she seemed to have lost her appetite. She took another sip of wine and vowed to keep her thoughts firmly fixed on the painful truth.
How could she be so hopeless, when poor Bella was stuck at Blue Gums, caring for her dad? It was Bella who should be here, alone with Kent, and having this nice romantic dinner.
Zoe felt a little better when she and Kent left the veranda and returned to the kitchen to rinse their cutlery and plates and stack them in the dishwasher.
‘I hope Mr Shaw will be OK in the morning,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry about Tom.’ Kent gave an offhand shrug. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine in the morning. He’ll be full of remorse and Bella will give him an earful about following doctor’s orders.’
Zoe nodded. ‘There was a fellow in Lead the Way with a drinking problem. He wanted everyone to turn a blind eye.’
Kent’s eyes widened with interest, then abruptly he let out a sigh. ‘Got to admit, it’s really hard to watch Tom sink into such a state. He used to be such a fine man. He was my hero for many years. He saved my life when I was a nipper.’
‘Really?’ Zoe couldn’t resist asking, ‘What happened?’
‘I was acting the fool down at the local waterhole, dived in at the wrong spot and hit my head on a rock.’ With a sheepish smile Kent leaned closer and pointed to a faint thin scar on his forehead.
Zoe caught the clean, male scent of his skin, mere inches from her. She could see the scar, but his proximity also gave her the chance for a close-up study of the rest of his face, the length of his eyelashes, the graininess of his jaw, the sexy curve of his lips.
Oh, man.
Perhaps Kent sensed her indecent interest. His expression took on a strange frowning tension, and the air around them seemed to pulse. It seemed like ages before he pulled back, and he let out a strangled laugh. ‘Lucky I didn’t break my flaming neck. I certainly would have drowned if Tom hadn’t been there. He got me off the bottom, dragged me out and revived me.’
‘Thank God he did.’ Oh, heavens, that sounded far too fervent. Quickly, Zoe asked, ‘Was Bella there, too?’
‘Yes, she witnessed the whole thing. We’ve both looked on her dad as a hero ever since.’
Kent’s voice was so rough and solemn as he said this that Zoe knew deep emotions were tied to the statement.
‘I’m sure he’ll get over this road bump,’ she said gently.
She was also sure it was time for Kent to leave. Regrettably, their time together had been way too pleasant.
She made a shooing motion towards the door. ‘Now, thanks for a lovely dinner, but you should get going over to Bella’s.’
‘Yes, I’ll head off now. You know where the tea and coffee are, don’t you? And the TV remote.’
‘Yes, thanks. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to living on my own. Now, go, Kent. Get out of here.’
He went.
I’m used to living on my own …
Standing at the kitchen window, Zoe watched the twin red eyes of Kent’s tail lights disappearing into the black night, and she discovered a huge difference between being alone and being consumed by horrible loneliness.
Dismayed, she went through to the lovely lounge room. Like the rest of the house it was elegant yet relaxing, with deep comfy sofas, brightly coloured throw pillows. With a feminine touch, there’d be cut-glass vases filled with flowers from the garden.
For a brief, unwise moment, she indulged a childhood fantasy and imagined being the mistress of a beautiful country homestead like this one—cutting and arranging flowers from her garden, baking hearty meals for her drop-dead gorgeous, farmer husband and their children, attending meetings of the local growers’ association, waking each m
orning to fresh air and open spaces …
And waking to the drop-dead gorgeous, farmer husband in bed beside her.
OK. Fantasy over. Back to reality. Fast.
Zoe flicked on the TV, made herself comfortable, and settled to watch one of her favourite comedies. A good dose of on-screen hilarity would soon cure her of any lingering self-pity.
But unfortunately the usually lively script was dull and unfunny this evening, and Zoe couldn’t raise a chuckle. Her thoughts kept drifting …
She was picturing Kent’s arrival at Blue Gums … and Bella’s happy, open-arm welcome.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
The couple on the TV screen were embracing, and again Zoe thought about Kent and Bella. Right about now, Bella would probably be undoing the buttons on Kent’s shirt, running her hands over his lovely, hard muscles …
Oh, good grief. Enough!
Snapping off the TV, Zoe jumped to her feet. She was not going to succumb to this nonsense. She needed to keep busy, to keep her mind occupied with something constructive. But what could she do in a stranger’s house?
Heading for the kitchen, she prayed for an answer.
CHAPTER FIVE
KENT was in a black mood. His experience at Blue Gums this evening had been depressing to say the least. Disturbing, too, as he hadn’t been able to offer Bella much comfort. She’d been distracted, not her usual self and troubled by more than her father’s illness. And yet she wouldn’t confide in Kent, wouldn’t let him help.
After the pleasant dinner conversation he’d enjoyed with Zoe, his fiancée’s reception had been like a bucket of icy water. He was sure it had been a relief for both of them when he left early.
Now, home again, he approached the kitchen and saw.
Candles.
Everywhere.
On every bench top and flat surface in the state-of-the-art kitchen his mother had so faithfully designed, small candles sat, glowing warmly. And in the middle of the dancing candlelight stood Zoe, looking lovely, yet wide-eyed and cautious, rather like a naughty angel caught playing with the devil.
Bridesmaid Says, I Do! Page 6