by Mandy Magro
He shrugged and forced a smile he was far from feeling. ‘What are these secrets you speak of, Miss Kensington?’
‘That’s the way.’ Nodding, she sniffled and wiped at her eyes. ‘Bye, Zane.’
‘Yup, catch ya round like a rissole, Em.’
‘Gravy and all,’ she said. Then buckling herself back in, she revved the Holden V8 to life and pulled out and away, taking a huge piece of Zane’s heart with her.
It was a fight not to look back when he stepped through the sliding doors, the coolness of the air-conditioning like a sharp slap to the face. Finally taking his sunnies off, he groaned and cursed beneath his breath. The airport was jam-packed with travellers, the line to the check-in counter a mile long. He joined the queue, and the nerves and doubts multiplied. Checking his phone almost every five seconds, just in case Emma texted or rang him, he had to fight the urge to look over his shoulder, as he had done for the past two weeks. Having witnessed the unthinkable, and knowing it had something to do with the Mafia, he found it incredibly hard to stand still. He wanted to stay and play Emma’s bodyguard, to make sure no harm came to her, but they had to get on with their lives. Besides, she had Michael there to do that for her.
Finally, he was standing at the check-in counter. The impeccably dressed woman with lips painted bright red offered a smile, revealing lipstick-smudged teeth, as she handed back his passport. Zane shoved it in his top pocket, wished her a good day, and then made his way down the corridor leading to airport security. Emptying his pockets, cursing when he pulled out his favourite pocketknife that would be confiscated for sure, he tried to shake the unease from the pit of his stomach. The terror of that night had a grip on him so damn tight he was powerless to be free of it. It had all happened so fast – Emma’s panicked cries, him running from his bedroom still half asleep, the thug tumbling backwards and smashing his head on the granite bench, the pool of blood beneath his motionless body spreading further by the second. He’d never forget the strange expression shared between Peter and Michael as they raced into the kitchen to find the intruder on the floor. Peter’s explanation of exactly who the dead man was was believable, but it hadn’t excused the way he and Michael had reacted.
Through the metal detector, and with his pocketknife frustratingly taken from him, Zane slung his backpack over his shoulder. Every step he took towards the waiting plane was a step away from the life he loathed, and the family he despised. As he stood a head above the rest, and with shoulders as wide as a professional footy player, gazes followed him down the aisle of the Boeing 747 – some subtle, some not so much. His country get-up of cowboy boots, faded jeans and his trusty Akubra (there was no way he was risking it getting squashed in his luggage), and the tattoos that were visible, drew all sorts of attention. A few passengers looked cautious, others were curious. Zane took it all in his stride, offering a courteous smile whenever his eyes met those of a gushing woman. In his line of work, female admiration came with the territory, and like his mum had always said – God rest her soul – it cost nothing to be a gentleman. Opening a door for a woman, young or old, was a given in his world, as too was standing whenever a lady walked into a room.
Hopeful the seat beside him was going to remain unoccupied, so he could unravel his six-foot-three frame, he sat down and latched his damn seatbelt. He couldn’t get away from constraints today. The only place he truly felt free was on the back of a one-tonne bucking bull – at least then he could get off whenever he wanted. At last, right where he needed to be, and with the dreaded goodbye with Emma done and dusted, he released a pent-up breath. This journey was going to bring a whole new meaning to a long-haul flight – an entire eighteen or so hours, to think about the horror of the last two weeks and the mind-blowing pleasures of last night. Damn his lack of willpower. And even though he’d gone and stuffed everything up, just as he always did when it came to women, not that Emma was just any woman, she’d still insisted on dropping him off as planned. In the throes of passion, she’d also promised not to hold it against him, because it took two to tango. Her determination to shoulder her share of the blame made him fall for her even harder. The tears that had been building in her hazel eyes, and the quiver in her lips as she’d unravelled from his arms and crawled from his bed at some ungodly hour, so she could sneak home before her parents got up, had almost broken him.
While the plane taxied and lifted off, his eyes darted around as he familiarised himself with his surroundings. Staring at the seatbelt sign, keen for it to be switched off, he clenched his clammy hands together and cursed himself for the hundredth time that day. He wasn’t afraid of flying, but having never passed over the oceans, this was all new to him. He trusted in the pilot to get him to Dallas safe and sound, but if it were possible, he’d prefer the feel of a well-worn saddle beneath him, and the sound of pounding hooves as he voyaged to his new home.
He fought to focus on the here and now. This was meant to be a magical moment – leaving Australia to chase his bull-riding dreams. It was one he’d counted down to for what felt like forever and worked damn hard to achieve. He should be elated he’d made the cut, but he was finding it near impossible to be anything but anxious. As the plane rose higher and higher, the sun shone from behind the cottony clouds and sparkled on the turquoise water far below – it was a sight to behold. After years of his mother encouraging him to become a world-champion bull rider, as fearful as she was for his safety, he’d finally taken the first step in making his lifelong dream a reality. It broke his heart she wasn’t around any longer to witness it.
His face pressed up against the window, he watched the scenic coastline of Far North Queensland fade away. His heart ached as it reached back for Emma’s. Memories of last night came thick and fast – the fresh scent of her hair, the silkiness of her skin, the sharp intake of her breath as he’d become one with her, the feeling of her fingernails scraping down his back, and the look in her eyes as she’d tumbled over the edge with him. When her lips had first touched his, while they’d ripped at each other’s clothes, as if trying to tear away the layers that were stopping their hearts caressing one another’s, something deep inside his soul had slipped into place. In that lust-filled moment, they’d been stripped of pretence, and all their worries had faded away in an instant. It was as if they’d been skin on skin a thousand times over, a thousand years ago. Emma was spot on when she’d said it had felt so right, so damn good, even though it had been so very wrong of them. As difficult as it had been in the heat of the moment, he’d made sure to not make promises to her he couldn’t keep – he didn’t have the nickname of ‘Casanova’ around Silvergum for no good reason. Commitment terrified him, and Emma knew that so well.
The what ifs slogged him – what if he stayed instead of chasing his dreams? What if he gave in to how he really felt about her, what if they ran away together, what if she wasn’t so tied to her family property, with a dream to make it her own one day, what if she wasn’t in a relationship with Michael? Trust his luck, he’d gone and found the girl of his dreams, but only realised it when it was way too late. But if given the freedom, would he have jumped at the chance to make her his? If he thought about it rationally, Emma’s dreams of picket fences and having an army of children had never been his thing, and if he were being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure it ever would be.
Shaken from his deep thoughts by a wave of bone-shuddering turbulence, his hands clenched the armrests. If this giant tin can dived and crashed, he’d have no hope of survival. It was completely out of his control – and he didn’t like that. One. Little. Bit. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to block out images of Emma as the sounds of rattling bags and nervous passengers heightened his panic. His mind tumbled and twisted, filled with thoughts of surviving a plane crash and not seeing her again. Flashes of them skin on skin came into his head – the desperate crash of their lips, the scent of whisky on her breath, and her whispers, her sweet rasping voice telling him how she wished he wasn’t so scared o
f commitment, squeezed his already pain-filled heart tighter. Goddamn it, this was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, other than watching his mum wasting away from cancer.
Knowing he needed to get a grip, Zane fought off the memories. Even though he worshipped the ground Emma Kensington walked on in her sexy cowgirl boots, in his soul he knew he could never have her without the big possibility of letting her down, of somehow breaking her beautiful heart because he was so scared of tying himself down, of laying down roots. That meant they were never possible. They could never be. Would never be. He had to keep telling himself that, and he needed to let the thought go of there ever being a them. He just had to. He wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t the one for her. He was doing her a favour, leaving her behind. And one day, she would thank him for it.
As the turbulence cleared and the nervous excitement of the crowded plane settled, he allowed his heart to calm too. When he stepped from this plane and strode into Dallas International Airport, there was going to be no looking back, no longing for what could never be with her. Ever.
CHAPTER 2
Serendipity Farm, Silvergum
Nine years later
Wiping her hands on the tea towel slung over her shoulder, June Kensington cupped her daughter’s cheeks, the compassion in her eyes almost sending Emma into a flood of tears. ‘I know it hurts, love, him not being here, but try to focus on the positives, okay.’
Placing her hands over her mother’s, Emma smiled sadly. ‘And what might they be, Mum?’
‘Well, let’s see …’ June rolled her eyes skywards, as if asking the good lord for silent answers. ‘Michael does love you, very much. He’s a hard worker, and on a good day, when he forgets about work for a while, he’s still that carefree larrikin you fell for.’
Emma bit her lip to stop from crying. ‘I still see glimpses, Mum, but they’re becoming few and far between, these days.’
‘I know, love.’ June kissed her on the forehead. ‘Marriage isn’t easy, by a long shot. Trust me, there were times when your father and I weren’t very keen on one another, but we pushed through them, and I’m glad we did, because I love him more than ever now. As annoying as the old codger can be at times.’ She chuckled softly, shaking her head.
Emma couldn’t help but smile when she came to meet her mother’s gaze. ‘That’s all I want – a happy marriage like yours and Dad’s. Is that too much to ask?’
‘It takes a hell of a lot of work, and tonnes of grit and determination.’ June sighed. ‘And that’s from both sides, mind you. Michael needs to take more responsibility and be there for you.’
‘I wish he would, I really do.’
‘Your father and I do, too, love. We know how much it would mean to you, and Riley, if he was home more.’ She stepped back and drew in a breath. ‘Just know we’re here for you, anytime, okay. I hate seeing you so torn.’
‘I know, Mum, thank you. I love you, so much.’
‘Love you too, Em.’ She clapped her hands together and flashed a broad smile. ‘Now, before we get all soppy and sentimental, let’s get back out there and celebrate with Riley.’
‘Yes. I’ll be back out soon. Just need to visit the little girls’ room.’
Striding down the hallway after her quick trip to the loo, Emma stopped off at the bathroom to wash her hands. She wished her best mate, Renee, could have made it to her godchild’s eighth birthday party, but she understood the shortage of nurses at the local hospital had Renee shouldering a double shift. The same couldn’t be said about Michael. Try as she might to understand it, his absence was just plain selfish. It broke her heart to see how far they’d slipped from each other’s lives over the years, but she was determined to try to make it work, to stick with it through the bad times, desperate to believe there would once again be good days ahead for them, as a family.
Pulling open the flyscreen door, she padded out onto the wide verandah of the renovated cottage, next door to her parents’ homestead, and with a sweeping view of the family property, Serendipity. Sidestepping battered cane chairs and thriving potted ferns, she made her way towards the back steps. Her ten-month-old Great Dane, Tiny, leapt from his hammock bed and stumbled over his massive feet to get to her, keen for some loving. Pausing to give him a scratch on his massive noggin, she sighed wearily – thoughts of climbing into her bed tonight the only thing keeping one foot in front of the other. Last night had been a restless one, her tossing and turning brought on by a myriad of scenarios, none of them ideal.
Her gaze found Zane, the mere sight of him arousing feelings she shouldn’t have as a married woman. Tangles of childhood adventures, secrets and lies, had bound them all those years ago. She closed her eyes, willing her anxiety away by counting her blessings. Although her life was often challenging, she also had so much to be thankful for.
She still couldn’t believe he was here after all those years of avoiding Aussie shores. The ten-year anniversary of his mother’s death had lured him back to pay his respects at the memorial held by the local CWA women. And by god, other than maturing into one hell of a man, he hadn’t changed a bit. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Emma took a moment to re-group. She was struggling, slipping, drowning in apprehension as she pictured ripping open the envelope that could change everyone’s lives. But if it were so, would Zane want to step up to the plate? Fear gripped her heart. Squeezed it so tight she could barely draw a breath. Was she ready to face this? Her entire world might be turned upside down and inside out.
Guaranteed a seven-day turn-around, the results of the test would be here any day. And they couldn’t come quickly enough. It had been the longest week of her life, her nights spent wide awake as she worried herself sick, and her days besieged with mental and emotional exhaustion. She took a deep, calming breath, followed by another. She couldn’t crumble today, not in front of everyone. Nobody could know what she was going through, not even her parents or her best mate. What good would it do, letting the cat out of the bag? It would tear their lives apart, and for what? A hunch? She’d never forgive herself.
As terrified as she was about finally knowing, at the very least there’d be no more guessing, no more wondering. One outcome and she could go on with her life as though nothing had changed; another and she’d have to do the only thing she could – tell the truth. Tomorrow, she’d drive into town to check if it was at the post office, where she would have to personally sign for it. She’d made sure to have it posted as securely as possible. She had to be the first one to open the envelope.
Wandering across her backyard with Tiny close beside her, she looked at her watch. There was less than an hour of bedlam to go, thank god. As much fun as she’d had, making sure her little girl had a ripper of an eighth birthday party, the thought of all the kids going home was comforting. She’d made it through having seventeen of Riley’s classmates there; all of them still alive and mostly unscathed, not a small feat. As if on cue, three boys, clearly high on sugar, tore past in a fit of chuckles, a football passing between them, almost knocking her over. She swayed out of their way, and felt a strong hand on her arm, steadying her. Looking into eyes the colour of the spectacular sky they’d been blessed with today, she was transported to another time, another place – one she’d tried to force herself over the years to believe she’d left behind, but possibly never could. They shared an enchanting, private moment, before laughing it off and going their separate ways. Zane saying something first about her ability to trip over air, and her telling him, playfully, to go and get stuffed.
Completely exhausted, and with everyone now in a food stupor, she stretched out in the hammock that hung in the shade of a big old red gum. It was the same tree she’d fallen out of and broken her arm as a twelve-year-old – so much for trying to keep up with the Wolfe boys and their antics. With a bit of enticement from Zane, they’d had a bet on who could climb the highest and the fastest, the winner gaining both bragging rights and a milkshake and burger at the local fish and chippy. Of course, s
he’d risen to the challenge with enthusiasm. Halfway to the top, and with the two boys hot on her heels, she’d missed her mark and tumbled, hitting the ground so hard it had knocked the wind right out of her and bent her arm into a very unnatural angle. Zane had been beside himself with concern; Michael, on the other hand, had laughed his arse off. Looking back, it had been two very painful lessons learnt. First, that a girl couldn’t always outdo the boys. Although that hadn’t stopped her trying – coming from a long line of strong country women, giving in or giving up just wasn’t an option. And secondly, the cocky, confident and very popular older brother of her best guy-friend at high school wasn’t necessarily the one to go for, as much as her friends at the time had made her think Michael was an absolute catch. Hindsight was a bitch, but she took her vows seriously – for better or worse, she had to believe she and Michael would make it through, just like her mum and dad had. There was no going back, no option to rewind and redo the past – no matter what she found out tomorrow.
As always, her heart swelled with the vision of this majestic land she called home, the hundred-acre property nestled nicely between the Great Barrier Reef, the lush tropical rainforests of the Daintree and the fringes of the outback. Rich and fertile, Serendipity was strikingly green for the majority of the year. The dry season never lasted long before the monsoonal weather would swoop in, enticing new growth from the depths of Mother Nature’s heart. It was the perfect spot for the grass-fed cattle her father raised and sold to gourmet butchers, and also for her side of the business, the highly sought-after horse agistment paddocks she rented out for a pretty penny.
As arduous and unforgiving as living off the land could sometimes be, she wouldn’t want to do anything else, anywhere else – a sharp contrast to Michael’s ambitions. Recently appointed a partner in the new office of his father’s prestigious law firm, a good hour’s drive away, representing a very shady bunch was his idea of making it. Long gone was the easy-going country boy she’d fallen for. She couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got in the saddle or spent time in the paddocks. With all the late nights at the office, he spent the majority of the week holed up in one of his father’s seafront apartments on the Cairns Esplanade, and he was hinting more and more about moving there. But Emma didn’t know how he could suggest such a thing. Wild horses wouldn’t drag her from Silvergum. She’d worked so hard to build her business here, and Riley loved her country lifestyle – the paddocks of Serendipity, Silvergum primary school, her friends and her horse. Michael must have realised that it was Riley’s whole world. He was becoming more like his cunning, egotistical father every day, and less of the man she’d fallen for as a teenage girl. The rose-coloured glasses were now well and truly off and she could see all too clearly.