Hope’s lips thinned and he closed his mouth.
‘I’m more than capable, Mitch,’ she said stiffly.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just . . . you know . . . your . . .’
He glanced at her leg again and swallowed, unsure what else to say. He peeked back at her face. She scowled at him but said nothing. He was in a world of trouble and he had no idea how to get himself out of the hole he’d dug.
‘I wasn’t sure with your leg whether you know . . . whether you have any . . .’ He searched for the right word. ‘. . . limitations.’
‘The only limitations are in people’s minds,’ she snapped.
Hope strode off and it was like a punch in the gut.
He let her go. She had every right to be annoyed and offended by his presumption.
Typical. He hadn’t thought about Hope Rossi in years and now she was back and once again he was stuffing everything up. He stabbed the toe of his boot into the ground. He wasn’t angry with Hope. He was furious with himself for handling this badly.
He watched her struggle with his bag as she walked back to the car and he let out another soft sigh. Hope had always had a mile-wide independent streak and now it seemed it was even wider.
How was he supposed to convince her to have dinner with him now he’d ticked her off? They needed a proper catch up, not this angry outburst in the middle of a farmer’s paddock.
If Hope gave him another chance and agreed to catch up with him for dinner, the first thing he’d do was say sorry. For everything.
Chapter 8
Hope stomped off, irritated with herself more than Mitchell. She didn’t really understand why her chest was tight or why her gut burned. She concentrated on walking as steadily as she could, trying to hide any evidence of her limp because for some reason it seemed important Mitchell see her as whole. She exhaled slowly. She shouldn’t have been so quickly offended by his comment. The Mitch she remembered would have offered to help even if she had both her legs—he was that kind of guy.
The problem wasn’t Mitchell. It was her. She hated how people presumed she was incapable of doing things because she was an amputee. For years she’d battled to prove her leg wasn’t the disability most people assumed, and it was moments like this when her emotions always ran high and she lost her temper.
As she neared the car, she slowed her pace and concentrated on slowing down her breathing. From the moment she made the decision to come back to Macarthur Point she’d been looking forward to seeing Mitch, but she hadn’t expected to bump into him like this. And she certainly hadn’t expected his hug to zap her like two hundred volts from a defibrillator. What was with that?
When he’d pulled her close and wrapped his strong, muscled arms around her, the world had melted away as she’d squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.
She had no idea Mitchell was the vet she’d called out to help, and when she’d arrived back at the farm and seen him, she hadn’t recognised him at first because her attention was on the birth. But when she took her eyes off the newborn calf and got a look at the vet and realised who she was staring at, her stomach had flip-flopped, and she’d been hurled back in time. It had taken all her self-control not to run to him and throw herself at him. Seeing him again did something unexpected in her, stirring the attraction she’d always felt for him and awakening the desire that had clearly lain dormant until this very moment.
A lump formed in her throat as she stood at the fence and watched him tenderly care for the calf and its mother. She’d never seen this nurturing side of him. Back when she knew him, he’d kept his emotions well-hidden and close to his chest to everyone but her, yet out here, with the animals, he was totally transparent. He was himself; the man she’d fallen in love with.
As she’d stood there, the feelings she’d had for him seventeen years ago crashed back in, threatening to swamp her. She hadn’t come back here for him. Heck, she hadn’t even known he was still in town until recently. Maybe it wasn’t Courtney and Margot that had drawn her back, but fate. Maybe she was supposed to be back in Macarthur Point to make things right between her and Mitchell. Or pick up where they’d left off.
Love and longing tumbled inside her, followed immediately by a sense of loss. They’d shared something very special all those years ago, but he’d ruined it by not calling. The joy of seeing him again had superseded her other emotions and she needed to pull herself together. Just because hugging him had felt so right, didn’t mean it was.
Had Mitchell kept her in his arms a second longer, she would have kissed him. And she had no doubt from the way his body had responded to her hug, he would have kissed her back. The heat of his hands had burned through the sleeves of her coat. A shiver raced down her spine. She hadn’t expected to react so strongly to seeing him again and it was obvious by the look on his face he felt the same way, which sent another shot of pleasure coursing through her at the thought.
Not unexpectedly, the years had shaped changes in Mitchell. The twenty-two-year-old she’d fallen in love with when she was still a teenager had grown into a mature, handsome adult. His sandy blond curls which he’d called his ‘surfie’ look had traces of silver in it now. He still wore it longer than most men and she loved that. The feel of his hard-packed chest under her hands were a dead giveaway that he kept physically active too.
But it was his eyes that signalled the biggest change. There was something there that Hope didn’t remember. Sadness? Loneliness? Now wasn’t the time or place to ask him.
She’d changed too. Physically because of the cancer and losing her leg, but she’d changed in other ways too. She was less tolerant, for one.
But one thing remained unchanged, and that was the visceral pull she felt towards Mitchell the moment she saw him. It wasn’t the pull of innocent adoration—the pull of a teenage schoolgirl falling in love for the first time. It was something deeper. Something she couldn’t yet put her finger on. Something partly thrilling and partly shocking.
She forced herself to take a mental step back. There was no denying Mitch Davis was still incredibly sexy and she was clearly still attracted to him, but she’d just walked out of a relationship and wasn’t in the head space to walk into another one. Besides, she wasn’t hanging around Macarthur Point long enough to start something she couldn’t finish. And she wasn’t going to let Mitch hurt her again. Three good reasons to keep her distance.
Yet she couldn’t explain away there was such an inexplicable pull towards him. Seventeen years was a long time, yet in this moment it felt like less time than a heartbeat. There was no denying he’d felt it too and that confused her. She’d seen it in the widening of his eyes when he’d turned and caught her standing there, and she’d felt it in his body when he held her in his arms. The hug had been friendly, but she had no doubt one moment longer and it would have crossed the line into something else and neither of them would have complained.
Hope gave herself a shake. She was reading far too much into a hug. Right now, her concerns needed to be for Margot and Courtney and the babies, not Mitchell Davis. She was in Macarthur Point for her family, not to pick up the pieces of something she’d had with a man an eternity ago.
Putting the memories back into that place in her heart marked “the past”—where they belonged—she grabbed Mitchell’s bag of vet supplies and lugged it back to the car. She’d die rather than admit it was heavier than she’d expected, and difficult to carry.
Mitchell was on the other side of the fence with the calf and she saw him glance her way, but he didn’t offer any assistance and she was grateful; she’d already been snappy enough. She climbed into the car, started the engine, cranked up the heater and waited. Moments later when Mitchell reappeared, she jumped out, followed him to the back of the car and waited while he checked everything he needed was in the boot.
The sun was gone now, and the temperature felt as if it had plummeted. Grey clouds threatened rain. Mitchell ought to be freezing without his sh
irt but he acted like he was immune to the cold. He hadn’t bothered to zip up Lachlan’s jacket and she kept getting glimpses of his toned body. How was she supposed to act normal around him when she could barely look at him without her heart racing and her mouth going dry and every intelligent thought escaping her brain? Mitchell Davis still made her giddy. Even though she was annoyed with him, he still had the power to make her spine weaken. All it took was one of his focused looks and she went all tingly inside.
Shivering in the near-arctic wind, she hopped from one leg to the other and hugged her elbows. ‘Feels like it’s cold enough to snow,’ she joked.
‘It might,’ he replied.
‘Are you kidding?’ She glanced at the sky again. She’d heard they got snow in the Otways from time to time. It never stayed long on the ground, but it was enough that people drove down to play in it. She shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around her waist. ‘Got everything?’
‘Yep, all good. Thanks. Want me to drive?’
When his eyes darted briefly to her leg, a flash of anger sparked again. Surely, he didn’t think she was incapable of driving because she only had one leg. How did he think she got here?
She twisted around to tell him as much, but she moved too quickly, and her prosthetic foot got caught in a suction cup of mud.
No!
Surely this wasn’t happening. Not now. Not after making a loud song and dance about her independence.
She tugged at her prosthesis and let out a little grunt. A trickle of perspiration ran down her back. As the mud released her, she felt herself falling and let out another yelp. Of all the darn places to fall, why did it have to be in front of Mitchell?
‘Whoa. Careful. I got you.’
Two strong hands found her waist and held her in a vice-like grip as she was hauled upright. She squealed as he spun her around until both feet touched dry ground. A wave of dizziness caught up with her and she closed her eyes before grabbing his arms. Her fingers tightened around his flexed biceps and she swayed again, this time for a different reason. Her pulse skipped.
‘You okay?’
She released his arms, but she was so close to him there was nowhere for her hands to go except to the solid wall of his chest. She stood, breathing heavily. He was so appealing in every way and despite the way he was walking on eggshells around her, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to lay her head against his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart.
With a shake of her head she hastily stepped back. This had to stop. Even though she didn’t want to feel this spark, it was there, burning inside her. Her brain was obviously remembering Mitchell was a friend, but her heart was making the leap to when they were more than friends and it was too far. Way too far. She needed to rein her feelings in, and fast.
Friends. Just friends now, she reminded herself.
He’d given up the chance to be more than that years ago.
‘Sorry.’ She pulled herself from Mitchell’s grip with the force of a rocket launching into space, quickly bending over and pulling her jeans back down over her where they’d pulled out of her gumboot exposing the bottom of her prosthetic limb. Her face felt like it was on fire and every nerve ending had exploded.
She took two steps back and Mitchell rubbed the back of his neck as if a muscle just out of reach needed fixing. A moment later he went to the car, opened the driver’s side door for her and waited until she’d clambered in. After closing the door gently, he went around the front of the car, giving her barely enough time to catch her breath and gather her wandering thoughts.
He swung himself into the passenger seat beside her. ‘Appreciate the lift.’
‘No worries,’ she said, willing her voice to sound calm which wasn’t easy when her stomach was lurching left to right and her pulse was beating erratically. ‘You’ll have to give me directions. I have no idea where you live.’
‘On Young’s Point Road. Right near the beach. You’ll remember the spot when you see it.’
She took off slowly. The last thing she needed now was to bog Courtney’s car in the mud.
Neither of them said a word until she turned out of Len’s driveway onto the main road.
‘Jordan said you’re going to be in town for a while helping Court and Margot.’
‘I am.’
‘That’ll be good.’
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. ‘Good for Courtney and Margot, or good for you?’
‘Courtney. Margot.’ He hesitated. ‘Me.’
She smiled. The awkwardness eased a fraction. ‘Did you know I was coming?’
He nodded. ‘Jordie told me.’
‘Why haven’t you come over to see me?’
A tiny muscle twitched beside his right eye. ‘Wasn’t invited.’
She playfully slapped his upper arm with the back of her hand, the way she used to, and the awkwardness disappeared altogether. ‘Since when have you needed an invite to visit your best mate?’
‘To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to see me.’
She eased her foot off the accelerator. ‘Why?’
He stared out the front window. ‘Because I hurt you and you have every reason to hate me.’
Whoa. She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming with his feelings. Or to talk about what he’d done. Hope had never asked him to wait for her, but she wished he had. When she never heard from him after her illness, she presumed he’d given up on her and moved on with his life. It had hurt, but she’d gotten over him.
The air between them thickened again. Hope put on the indicator and braked, slowing the car and pulling over to a stop on the side of the road. Now wasn’t the time to have this conversation but she wasn’t going to let this moment pass. He’d raised the subject, and she didn’t want to shy away from it. In the past she hadn’t been a fan of conflict, but one thing she’d learned was it was always best to say what you felt.
Yes, Mitchell had inflicted wounds on her heart, but from the way he was speaking and from the regret in his eyes he was obviously deeply sorry for the scars he’d caused. She’d forgiven him years ago and he needed to know that. She’d had to forgive him. Cancer had taught her not to hang onto things like that.
She locked her eyes with his. ‘It’s in the past, Mitch,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t hate you.’
‘You don’t?’ he asked.
She shook her head, smiled. Put her hand on his arm and felt the muscles tense before she removed her hand. ‘I definitely don’t hate you.’
He swallowed twice before replying but still couldn’t look at her. ‘That’s good.’
‘Friends?’ she asked. She rested her hand on the console between them, palm up, and waited for him to put his hand in hers.
His warm hand met hers and his fingers entwined with hers. ‘Always were, always will be.’
She squeezed his fingers then released them. ‘I’m glad.’
Checking her mirrors, she eased back onto the road and headed in the direction of town. ‘When did you take over the vet clinic?’ she asked. Better to get things back to more mundane matters, not the past. Safer too.
‘January this year.’
‘Have you stayed in the Point all this time?’
‘On and off. After university, I worked in Melbourne for a while and I’ve travelled, but all I ever wanted was to come back home. I prefer this kind of vet work to domestic animals in a city clinic. I got a job here and when Ian was ready to retire, he sold the practice to me.’
‘You were always brilliant with animals,’ Hope said.
‘Good with animals. Useless with people.’
There was pain in his voice, but she didn’t correct him. She’d tried years ago to convince him otherwise, to little effect. One day he would wake up and realise he wasn’t a bad person, and neither was he useless with people. Sure, he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like some guys did and he took his time trusting people but that was fair enough, considering his upbring
ing.
‘What have you been doing with yourself all these years then?’ he asked.
A flash of disappointment whipped through her that he didn’t know. ‘I’m a nurse,’ she said.
‘Any particular specialty?’
‘Oncology. Kids. I was working at the Children’s in Melbourne.’
‘Bet that’s tough some days.’
‘Everyone says that, but we have more positive stories than sad ones. Even when these kids are feeling sick and under the weather, they have a way of smiling and making others around them smile too. They’ve taught me that smiling is contagious. And in my thinking, if a kid fighting cancer can find a reason to smile, the rest of us have no reason not to have one permanently plastered on our faces too.’
‘Wow. I’d never thought of it like that.’
He hesitated and she had a sense he was about to say something about her own cancer battle.
‘Your patients must love you.’
She let out a breath. ‘I love them. The relationship we have is special. I think it’s probably more special than many other nurse-patient relationships.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Maybe because it’s not a one-time encounter, but one which can last from months to years and one which has highs and lows. In the time I’ve been nursing I’ve watched children grow into beautiful teenagers and young adults. I’ve even seen some of them get married and one of my patients is pregnant with her first child. Sadly, I’ve also watched far too many children die. But no matter the outcome, each child I’ve had the privilege of caring for has taught me what’s important in life.’
‘Which is?’
The answer was easy. ‘Life is too short.’ She paused. ‘And yes, I know it’s a cliché, but I’ve found it to be true personally and professionally.’
‘If I recall, you always lived in the moment,’ he said.
‘I learned that from my parents, and it’s helped me with the parents of these sick kids. Take the good days when they come and roll with the bad ones. And never forget another good day is often only one sleep away.’
Holding onto Hope Page 7