Jack glanced up, worry etched into thick grooves around his eyes. ‘Hey.’ He left Noah’s bedside to lean against the wall next to her. ‘How’s your leg?’
‘Okay. I might have a bit of a scar, but no lasting damage. How’s Noah doing?’
Jack ran a hand through his hair. ‘He’s had an X-ray and some pain relief. They’re coming any minute to fit a cast and then we’re off to paediatrics. They’ve told me I can stay with him.’ He glanced at the open door behind her. ‘There must be a shop around here somewhere, so I’ll try and find a toothbrush and stuff while they’re plastering his arm.’
Eliza nudged the bag at her feet. ‘Owen’s been and gone with some stuff for you. I think your mum’s adopted him, he was very happy about the prospect of lasagne for his dinner.’
That earned her the first smile she’d had from him all day. ‘Mum’s always happy if she’s got someone to feed. Did he say how the harvest was going?’
‘Everything seemed under control. I can call her with an update on Noah, and check?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll speak to her.’ His eyes strayed back to the small figure on the bed behind him then back to her. ‘I need to get back to him.’
Unable to wait any longer, she took his hand. ‘We need to talk, Jack.’ He stared down at her hold like he might shake her off again, then all the fight seemed to go out of him. Taking a deep breath, she drew him outside the room.
Jack dropped her hand the moment they reached the corridor then propped himself against the wall with one shoulder. Eliza’s gut lurched at the pain and sadness etched in his hazel eyes, in the grim lines bracketing his mouth. The harsh lights in the hallway made her tired eyes ache, the smell of disinfectant burned her nostrils. A pall hung in the air, as though all the collective pain, fear and loss experienced in the corridor had left a lingering presence.
Clenching her hands against the need to reach for his hand, she leaned against the wall beside him. ‘It’s not what you think between Martin and me, I don’t know what you overheard but I sent him away. I’ve been to see a solicitor and I’ve made it clear to Martin that I want a divorce.’
‘Don’t.’ Jack’s voice was strained.
‘Please, Jack, listen to me. I love you so much, Noah too. That’s the future I want, nothing else.’ She stretched on tiptoe to cup his face. ‘Jack?’
Jack pressed his forehead to hers for a long minute. ‘I love you too.’ The elation filling her vanished when he spoke again. ‘But I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how I can take care of Noah, run the farm and be with you. It’s just too much.’
‘I know it’s been hard, Jack, but we can work it out. Please, don’t give up on us when we’re only just getting started.’ She reached for him, but he stepped back, shattering her dreams to pieces in the process.
‘We tried that and look what happened. Because of our relationship, Noah got hurt. Jesus Christ, he might have bloody died! I’m sorry I got the wrong end of the stick about you and Martin, but all this mess has made things clear to me. I have to put Noah first.’ Jack closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, the finality in them was stark. ‘Having it all isn’t for people like us, Eliza. We have too many responsibilities.’ He leaned forward to brush a bittersweet kiss over her lips. ‘I’m so sorry, I wish things could be different.’ And with that, he walked out of her life, closing the door of Noah’s room behind him.
Eliza let everything roll over her. All the stress and strains of the day, the dull pain in her leg she’d been trying to ignore all afternoon, her disappointment with Jack for not being willing to fight for them. Fingers digging into the cold wall behind her, she let it come, didn’t try to fight it. Tears came and went in a hot rush, and she let them flow.
It might have been five minutes later, might have been an hour, but Eliza finally steadied herself. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and straightened her spine. Jack might not be willing to fight for them, but she bloody well was.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Uncle Jack?’
Blinking away the gritty feeling in his eyes, Jack straightened up in the high-backed padded chair and winced at the kinks in his spine. The nurses had made up a pull-out bed for him, but he’d dozed off before managing to get in it. A soft lamp shining on the bedside table illuminated the pale skin of Noah’s face. He was still nearly as white as the sheets cocooning him. ‘I’m here, buddy. Do you want a drink?’
Noah nodded. Jack braced a hand behind his nephew’s back with one hand, holding out a plastic cup with a straw in the other. The boy sipped a bit, then settled back against his pillow. ‘Where’s Eliza?’
‘She had to go home and rest her leg.’ The lie tasted ugly on his tongue, but Jack didn’t have the energy for anything else.
‘Will she be back tomorrow?’ The hopefulness in his voice sliced Jack to the bone.
‘I don’t think so, buddy.’ Damn. He should’ve stuck with his original instinct and not let them meet until he’d been sure of everything. He’d got the boy’s hopes up—got his own bloody hopes up—and now he’d have to deal with the fallout.
‘I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.’ Noah’s voice lowered to a whisper.
Jack placed his hand on Noah’s leg. ‘Hey, it’s not your fault, buddy. It was an accident. What were you doing down on the rocks?’
Face screwed up, Noah began to cry. ‘I wanted to see the sandcastles. I didn’t mean to let go of Bastian’s lead. He ran away, and I tried to catch him. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be naughty…’ The rest of his words were lost in deep sobs.
Jesus. A fresh wave of guilt hit Jack as he bent over and gathered Noah gently in his arms, careful not to jostle his plastered arm where it rested on a pillow next to him. ‘Shh. It’s okay, buddy. Don’t cry now.’ Cursing himself for not taking better care of him, he held Noah, rocking him until the tears subsided and he quieted enough for Jack to lay him back on the pillow and tuck him back in.
He buried his face into the crisp white sheets and bit back a groan. He’d been an idiot, and a coward. Let his fear rule him. And it hadn’t just been his fear over Noah, though God knew that had been crippling enough. When he’d seen that blood streaming down Eliza’s leg, seen Sam and Owen ready to scramble over the rocks heedless of their own safety, he’d panicked about all the new people he suddenly had in his life to care for. More family meant more risk of something bad happening and his soul had rebelled against it.
And ending up back in this damn hospital where he’d had to stand at a little glass window and identify Jason’s pale lifeless body just a few months ago had been the final straw. Eliza had stood there and offered her heart to him, and he’d pushed her away unable to stand the stink of disinfectant, the rush of painful memories and the sight of her blood so bright against the white cotton of her skirt.
‘Bloody idiot.’
‘You did a swear, Uncle Jack.’ Noah’s shocked tone made him realise he’d spoken aloud.
Jack raised his head. ‘Don’t tell Nanna, okay?’
‘Okay, I promise.’ Noah crooked his little finger for Jack to hook his around and they shook on it.
‘Go to sleep now, buddy, or the nurses might not let me take you home tomorrow.’ He smoothed the sheets over Noah’s body, then held his hand until he slept. With a sigh, he tumbled onto the pull-out bed, not bothering to do more than toe off his boots. He needed to take his own advice and sleep. Tomorrow would be another long day, and when it was over he would need to track down Eliza and do whatever it took to persuade her to give him a second chance. Hopefully, he’d have better luck than Martin.
Jack tugged on his seatbelt to give him enough room to lean forwards between the front seats. ‘Just over the top of this hill, and you should see the farmhouse.’
The taxi driver nodded. ‘All right, mate. And just park in front?’
‘Yeah, anywhere on the driveway will be great.’ He settled back in his seat. Noah nuzzled into his arm. He’d been cli
ngy since waking up. Jack didn’t mind, he was feeling pretty bloody clingy himself that morning.
Doubts racked him. He’d failed at the first hurdle, made all those promises and balked the moment things got difficult. If Eliza told him to sling his hook, who could blame her?
‘Behind this little hatchback, yeah?’ The taxi driver asked.
Hatchback? Jack shook off his blues to stare out the window, a sudden rush of hope stealing the breath from his lungs. Behind the hulking mass of his Land Rover sat Eliza’s little blue car. He couldn’t get that lucky, could he? Pulse thudding like he’d run a marathon, Jack somehow managed to navigate his way through paying the taxi driver and getting Noah out of the car without banging his arm.
It could mean anything, she could’ve popped in to check on his mum, or it might not even be her. It could be Sam come to collect Owen. Hoisting their bag onto his shoulder, Jack took Noah by the hand and led him into the farmhouse. The distinctive silence of an empty building struck him as he walked into the kitchen. A host of mugs resting upside down on the draining rack was the only sign of recent life. ‘Let’s go and find Nanna, shall we?’
Jack led Noah back outside. The moment they turned the corner of the farmhouse the strains of a radio and laughter drifted on the air. He followed the sounds to the open door of the processing barn and stopped dead. Sam and Owen stood beside the vats, each one leaning on a pitchfork. Their clothes were coated in dust, faces streaked with sweat and dirt. Laughter rose from the benches where his mum was showing Beth and Libby how to decant and separate the essential oil from the weaker lavender water solution it floated upon.
He took them all in in the blink of an eye, his focus all for the woman clad in baggy denim dungarees, a bright red cloth bound around her head to keep her sandy curls off her face. Bits of lavender clung to the legs of her trousers, and her once-white trainers were a dusty brown from wielding the wide-headed broom in her hands. Red-faced with exertion, she looked hot and bothered, and was the most gorgeous sight he’d ever laid his eyes on. As though sensing his presence, she glanced up and a wide grin drew his attention to the beautiful plumpness of her mouth. ‘There you are!’
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like their conversation the previous night hadn’t happened. Like she had been waiting for him, like she would always be waiting for him if he would only let her.
Noah slipped his grasp and barrelled into the shed to throw his arms around Eliza. ‘You’re okay, you’re okay!’ There was a catch in his voice as Eliza ducked down to cuddle him close.
‘Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine. Just a silly scratch, nothing more.’ She drew back. ‘But what about you? Look at this cast on your arm, does it feel funny?’ And with just a couple of words, she distracted Noah from his worries and he was chatting a mile a minute about his adventures at the hospital. Jack’s mum hurried over, and Noah was swept away with her to show off his trophy to the others, leaving Jack and Eliza facing each other.
‘I’m sorry.’ The words weren’t nearly enough to express everything he was feeling, but he had to start somewhere.
‘It’s okay.’ She smiled so sweetly, and he ached to drag her into his arms and claim that smile for his own.
Knowing that he could, he allowed himself to relax and close the distance between them. His hands found the perfect hollow of her waist even through the baggy denim. ‘I’m an idiot.’
She nestled closer against his chest. ‘I’ll let you off…this time.’
‘Eliza—’ All the apologies he owed her, all the promises to do better, to be better were cut off by the noisy ‘toot toot’ of a car horn in the yard.
Keeping her close in his arms—because there was no way in hell he was letting her go again anytime soon—Jack swung around to see a man about his mum’s age slide out of the front seat and walk around to open the back doors. He reappeared carrying a large cardboard tray filled with white paper parcels. ‘Grub’s up!’ the man yelled cheerily as he entered the shed.
‘Dad! You’re a bloody superstar, I’m so hungry my guts are about to gnaw their way out.’ Libby skirted around the bench to greet the man with a smacking kiss on the cheek as he placed the tray down on an empty spot.
‘Such a charming way with words,’ Owen drawled, as he reached for one of the wrappers. Libby slapped his hand away to snatch up the package for herself then poked her tongue out at him. Owen turned to Jack. ‘So, Jack, looks like we might be seeing a bit more of each other. Your mum and I have been chatting about doing up the cottage like you mentioned. She’s promised to pay me in lasagne, so I’ve offered to do the plans for free.’
Jack might have worried about her reaction, but the huge grin on his mum’s face put paid to that. ‘I know we talked about it before,’ she said, ‘but I wasn’t sure what with Jason and everything how you’d manage on your own.’
‘I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you out…’
‘Nonsense!’ She shook her head. ‘Owen reckons we can have the cottage ship-shape by Christmas. I’ll be glad of my own space, and I’m sure you will too.’ The look she cast towards Eliza spoke volumes.
‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he cut in desperately, before she said something completely outrageous. He and Eliza were only just finding their way together, and he come so close to throwing it all away. It was too soon to be thinking about moving her in…wasn’t it? Although by the time Christmas came around…
‘I think it sounds like a great idea.’
He stared down into Eliza’s smiling eyes. It was hard to tell which smudges on her cheeks were dirt and which were the freckles he’d come to love so much. He could check later, perhaps if he could persuade her to share a shower with him. Once she moved in with him, he’d be able to shower with her every morning. Christmas can’t come soon enough.
A warm blush suffused her pale skin. ‘Hold that thought, whatever it is. Come on, I’m starving.’
Head whirling with plans for their future, Jack let Eliza tow him away. The scent of vinegar and crisp, hot batter filled his nostrils, and his stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten anything but half a stale sandwich and a nasty cup of coffee the night before. The man who’d pulled up in the van offered him a paper-wrapped parcel then stuck out his hand. ‘Mick Stone, pleasure to meet you. When my Libby told me what had happened, I was happy to do my bit to help out.’ He gestured at the food, looking a bit embarrassed at his own enthusiasm. ‘It’s not much…’
Jack grasped his hand and shook it. ‘It is, though. It’s so much more than I could’ve asked for.’ Mick retreated with a pleased smile on his face to dish out the rest of the food.
Eliza’s arms slipped around Jack’s waist, and he turned in her hold to stare down into her moss green gaze. ‘The thing about family is that you don’t need to ask for help, we’re just going to do it anyway.’
The impact of that simple truth rocked him. Putting his still-wrapped food on the bench beside them, Jack drew Eliza away from the noisy impromptu meal. He led her to the other side of the shed to a spot where they’d be hidden from the others by the heavy curtains of drying lavender. Taking Eliza into his arms, he backed her against the wall and followed until his body rested hard against her.
Seeking the soft skin on the side of her neck, he pressed a kiss to her pulse. The breathy catch in her throat turned everything inside him hot and tight and he nibbled higher. ‘Eliza…?’ He whispered her name against the shell of her ear, followed it with a quick trace of his tongue.
‘Yes.’
He grinned against her cheek. There was no hesitation in her response. ‘You don’t even know what I was going to ask you yet.’
She nestled closer. ‘It doesn’t matter what you ask me, Jack, the answer will always be yes.’
Overwhelmed, he whispered a silent prayer to whatever entity might be listening. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this—to deserve her—but he would give thanks every day for the rest of his life. Tur
ning his mouth, he captured her lips and sank into the sweet warmth of his future. The scent of lavender wreathed around him, blending with Eliza’s own unique perfume into a marker he would, from that moment on, always associate with coming home.
Turn the page for an exclusive extract from Spring at Lavender Bay, the first book in the enchanting Lavender Bay series from Sarah Bennett…
Chapter One
‘Sort this for me, Beth.’ A green project folder thumped down on the side of Beth Reynold’s desk, sending her mouse arrow skittering across the screen and scattering the calculation in her head. Startled, she glanced up to see a wide expanse of pink-shirted back already retreating from her corner desk pod. Darren Green was her team leader, and the laziest person to grace the twelfth floor of Buckland Sheridan in the three years she’d been working there. She eyed the folder with a growing sense of trepidation. Whatever he’d dumped on her—she glanced at the clock—at quarter to four on a Friday afternoon was unlikely to be good news. Well, it would just have to wait. Sick and tired of Darren expecting her to drop everything, she ground her teeth and forced herself to ignore the file and focus on the spreadsheet in front of her.
Fifteen minutes later, with the workbook updated, saved and an extract emailed to the client, Beth straightened up from her screen. Her right ankle ached from where she’d hooked her foot behind one of the chair legs and there was a distinct grumble from the base of her spine. Shuffling her bottom back from where she’d perched on the edge of the cushioned seat, she gave herself a mental telling off. There was no point in the company spending money on a half-decent orthopaedic chair when she managed to contort herself into the worst possible sitting positions.
Her eyes strayed to the left where the file lurked like a malevolent toad. If she turned just so, she could accidentally catch it with her elbow and knock it into the wastepaper basket sitting beside her desk. Brushing off the tempting idea, she grabbed her mug and stood up. Her eyes met Ravi’s over the ugly blue partition dividing their desks and she waggled her cup at him. ‘Fancy a brew?’
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