by Janet Gover
Mitch touches the place where she kissed him and the anger and pain in his eyes melts away. He reaches out to stroke her face, and then he kisses her. On the lips. She is fifteen and she has never been kissed by a boy before.
You never forget the first person to touch your heart.
CHAPTER
22
Mitch hefted the rail into place and held it with one hand as he pulled the fencing pliers out of his back pocket. His new stallion yard was almost finished. It had taken a lot of work, but it was worth it. He’d just been offered the chance to train one of the best bred two-year-olds in the valley. The colt was destined to stand at a top stud, but first he had to prove himself in competition, and the owner thought Mitch was the man to make that happen. The deal included a chance to put a mare to the stallion when he was ready. Mitch was already on the lookout for the right mare, because nothing short of disaster was going to stop Mitch turning the colt into a champion. Training a horse of this quality, with the resources the owner was prepared to invest, was a chance for Mitch to really make his mark.
He made a last twist on the wire and stepped back, pushing his hat up and wiping the sweat from his forehead. As he took a moment’s well-earned rest, he ran his eyes around his place. His place. Those words meant so much. Unlike Liz and Kayla, he hadn’t been born into land. His dad was a competent horse trainer and never out of a job, but he’d always been a hired hand, moving around the country, following the work. He was currently working at a racing stable in Queensland. Two or three years was the longest the family had ever stayed anywhere until they came to the Hunter. For teenage Mitch, the Hunter Valley had been everything he’d ever dreamed about. Horses were his world, and this valley was a world of horses. They had stayed here long enough for Mitch to fall in love—and not just with the valley.
A flash of movement caught his eye. A horse and rider were approaching from the direction of the creek crossing. The horse was obviously Willowbrook bred, and he didn’t need to see the rider’s face to recognise her.
Liz hadn’t come near the old church since he’d moved in. The creek had become an impassable barrier the day he had bought this block of Willowbrook land. He could still remember the look on her face. Those four hundred hectares had been the fulfilment of his dream, but had meant far more than that, because Willowbrook had been more his home than the many houses he’d lived in with his parents and sister. Hearing that part of it was for sale had shocked him to the core and his decision to buy the property was, in part, to stop it being sold to a stranger. Willowbrook was a family’s heritage, and in Mitch’s eyes, when he bought the land, he was keeping it in the family.
But that wasn’t how Liz had seen it. Her eyes as she’d relinquished the land had been filled with something very like hatred. When Mitch bought part of Willowbrook, he had hammered a final nail into the coffin of their dreams … dreams that had died on a slippery road on a frosty winter’s morning when they were still kids, and still in love.
His head knew that. But as he watched Liz approach the home he had made for himself, his heart skipped a beat as it had all those years ago.
Mitch put down his tools and waited. Liz pulled her horse to a halt a few yards away. She hesitated, as if she was reluctant to relinquish her means of a speedy escape, then she dismounted and tied the horse to a railing.
‘Hi, Liz.’
‘Mitch.’ Her face was hard and impossible to read.
‘I only just heard about Apollo. I’m really sorry. He was a great horse.’
‘Thanks.’ The barest flicker of emotion crossed her face. It closed down after a second, but not before Mitch had caught a glimpse of her pain. Losing her father’s horse had hit her far harder than he had expected.
‘How did the photo shoot go in the end?’ If he could get her talking about something, anything at all really, it might chip away at the barrier between them.
‘Fine.’
‘Have you seen any of the photos yet?’
‘No.’
An uncomfortable silence settled, broken only by the occasional movement of Liz’s horse.
‘Mitch, I need a favour.’
‘Anything. You know that.’
‘I have to go to Sydney for a couple of days. Next weekend. I need someone to look after Willowbrook.’
Mitch hid his surprise. Even after these years of separation, he knew Liz better than anyone. Going to Sydney would be her idea of going to hell. Whatever was taking her there, it must be important. ‘No worries. I can do that. Let me know what needs doing.’
‘Thanks. I’ll be leaving Saturday mid-morning and be home on Sunday afternoon. If you could check them Saturday evening and Sunday morning that would be really helpful.’
Mitch didn’t say anything. He was waiting to see if she would tell him what this was all about. She didn’t, of course. He had lost the right to know that sort of detail about her life a long time ago.
‘Whatever you need, it’s fine. If there is ever anything at all I can do to help, you know you only have to ask.’
‘Thank you.’ Liz turned away to untie her horse.
‘Liz …’ He stepped forward and put a hand on her arm.
His touch seemed to turn her to stone. She didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if she was breathing.
‘Don’t touch me.’
He let his hand drop.
She kept her face averted. Without another word, she swung into her saddle and turned her horse to the creek, pushing into a trot and then into a swift canter. She didn’t look back.
Mitch watched her go. She hadn’t asked him for help since the day she buried her parents in the graveyard on the hill above Willowbrook homestead. The situation must be even worse than Kayla had told him.
That night, he powered up his computer and sat staring at the card Kayla had given him, along with her promise to keep in touch. He could just email her and ask why Liz was going to Sydney, but that seemed too much like spying on her or betraying a confidence. He would never do that.
Instead, he opened an email from Sue, the woman he’d been dating for a few months, suggesting a weekend visit. He liked her a lot, but the relationship wasn’t serious—at least not to him. Sue was intelligent and attractive and easy to be with and he always enjoyed their time together, but right now he was relieved to have an honest reason to say no. As he was trying to compose an answer, another email pinged into his inbox.
Kayla’s message was brief: I thought you might like to see these.
There was a link and a password. He clicked through to a download site. The password gave him access to a gallery of images from the photo shoot.
Mitch had never been a vain man, but curiosity compelled him to click on the pictures taken by the creek. Images appeared of him with the models draped all over him. It was so strange to look at himself like that. He looked … different. Not like himself. Some of the images were overtly sexual. Others were just a bit weird. But even those were … interesting. Although he was alone, Mitch felt himself blushing.
A few more clicks took him to the photos taken inside the homestead. He hadn’t been inside the building for years. As he flicked through, he was shocked at the dust and the cobwebs and the signs of neglect in the beautiful old home. That wasn’t Liz. She cared too much about Willowbrook to let it get like that. Unless she had no choice.
Obviously things were worse than he’d ever imagined, and his heart went out to her. He wished she would open up to him. Or if not him, someone, anyone, who could help. She shouldn’t be facing this alone. At least she was seeing more of Kayla; if she could heal the rift with her sister, that would be a start.
Then maybe one day there might be a place for Mitch in her life. Perhaps not the place he had always imagined, but there must be some way they could at least repair their friendship. Until then, he would be here to help if—or when—she called on him.
He returned to his email to Sue, to explain why it wouldn’t be possible for him to spend the weeken
d in Tamworth.
CHAPTER
23
Liz looked uncomfortable and totally out of place as she stood alone in the garden, almost hidden in the darkness, as far from the lights and the party and the people as she could get. Kayla wasn’t sure whether to feel sorry for her sister or angry at her. Apart from a brief exchange with Pascale on arrival, it appeared that she hadn’t said a single word to anyone other than Kayla. This was supposed to be her chance to understand what Willowbrook could become. Instead she had retreated. What was wrong with her?
Kayla glanced around. The wedding was in full swing and nobody seemed to need her for a few minutes. She started to walk in Liz’s direction.
‘There you are!’ The mother of the bride appeared from nowhere. ‘I don’t know what is going on in the kitchen. There was supposed to be proper caviar in the canapés but I swear it’s not. It’s a cheap substitute.’
Kayla bit back an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m quite certain everything is as specified. I know the caterer very well. He serves nothing but the best.’
‘I insist that you double-check. I’m not paying for second-rate caviar.’
‘I will. Immediately.’ Anything to get away from the woman. Kayla was used to dealing with anxious and difficult brides, but even the worst bridezilla had nothing on this mumzilla. Much as Kayla loved her job, some events—or rather, some people—made her want to commit murder.
She did go into the kitchen to check how things were progressing, but she didn’t even mention the caviar. Even if it was wrong, which she doubted, the food had all been prepared off site and brought in by Lachie and his team. The mother of the bride was just going to have to live with the caviar she had.
As she made her way back to the gardens, Kayla paused to tick one more item off her long list. The sun was sinking over the extensive gardens of this heritage home on the Upper North Shore. She slipped through the staff entrance to the office, where the venue technician was waiting. At her nod, he began flicking switches. Kayla heard the murmurs of approval before she even made it into the gardens. Fairy lights glowed brightly in the trees, and soft lights in subtle colours of mauve and pink surrounded the dance floor where the bride and her father were dancing. The band was playing a slow song, and Kayla felt a prick of moisture in her eyes. She loved this part of her job, but sometimes it just served to remind her that she would never dance in her father’s arms at her own wedding. Her mother would never send some poor caterer crazy asking about caviar. Not that Kath would have done that. Kayla took a deep breath. She had long since given up wondering if a time would come when thoughts of her parents did not make her slightly teary.
Liz was standing in the shadows also watching the father and daughter dance. Kayla couldn’t help but wonder if Liz was having the same thoughts. Liz had always been closer to their father. Did she ever get teary? Not in public. Liz would never show weakness in public. But did Liz ever cry in the long, dark nights she spent alone at Willowbrook, where the memories would be harder to deny?
Kayla spotted the mumzilla working her way through the crowd in her general direction. She ducked down a path hidden among the bushes, not just to avoid the annoying woman—she also wanted a few minutes with her sister. She angled her way through the gardens towards Liz. But before she could get there, a hand grabbed her and pulled her into the shadows.
‘At last!’ Strong arms went around her and she was being kissed thoroughly and with great expertise. For a moment she fought, but then she gave up. She could not resist those arms or those lips and the delicious scent of chocolate that always seemed to accompany them.
‘Ah, Kayla. You know you look incredibly sexy in that tight black skirt and those heels. I want to—’
Kayla gently pounded her fists on his broad chest as Lachie finally let her come up for air.
‘You fool,’ she gasped. ‘I’m supposed to be working. And so are you.’
‘Pah.’ He waved a hand dismissively. ‘My work is done. And it was a triumph as usual.’
Kayla shook her head. On any other man that would be boasting, but Lachie Henderson was without a doubt the best event chef and caterer in the city. Possibly in the country. She’d say that even if she wasn’t dating him.
‘The mother of the bride is not impressed with the caviar,’ she couldn’t resist teasing. ‘She thinks you’ve used a cheap substitute.’
‘The mother of the bride is a Philistine. She wouldn’t know real caviar if it bit her. She obviously doesn’t appreciate or deserve me.’
‘Do you know your modesty is one of your most charming features?’
‘I know. Why don’t we meet up after this lot have all gone home? Your place … or mine?’
‘Sorry, I can’t. My sister is in town and staying with me.’
‘Your sister? I didn’t even know you had one.’
She hadn’t told him because they’d only been dating for four months, and were still discovering their relationship; it was too early yet for family, or to delve into the past.
‘I do. She pretty much raised me after our parents were killed in a car crash, but we don’t really get on. She lives on the family farm up the Hunter Valley. This is the first time she’s come to Sydney in … well, ever I think. She didn’t even come to my graduation.’ Kayla heard her voice tighten. She hadn’t realised she still carried so much bitterness about that event.
‘So is this some kind of reconciliation?’
That was a good question to which Kayla had no real answer. ‘I’ve got to get back in a minute,’ she said instead. ‘Mumzilla is sure to have found something else worth complaining about.’
‘Okay. Give me a call when your sister’s gone. Or even if she’s still here. You can always come and hide at my place.’
‘Thanks, Lachie. You’re an angel.’
He kissed her briefly on the lips and melted into the shadows.
Liz was watching her as she approached.
‘Who was that?’
‘Lachlan Henderson. He’s a chef. He owns the catering company that we work with a lot.’
‘Do you kiss all the caterers?’
Kayla bristled. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’ She hated how defensive she sounded.
She waited for a derisive comment, but there was none.
‘I think I’ve seen all I need to see.’
‘It’s early, Liz. The party will go until midnight.’
‘There’s no need for me to stay.’
Kayla’s heart sank. If Liz was being this dismissive, it didn’t bode well for her plans for Willowbrook.
‘So what do you think now you’ve seen the sort of thing we do?’
‘It seems to me to be a lot of palaver and a lot of wasted money.’
‘It’s a wedding. That’s what weddings are supposed to be. When we were little, we used to dream about our wedding days. Remember, we’d talk about long white dresses and being married in the old church where Mum and Dad were married.’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kayla wished she could take them back. She watched Liz shut down even further.
‘If we did, it’s too late now.’ Her voice was as cold and hard as the ice keeping the Champagne chilled. ‘Dad is never going to walk either of us down the aisle, is he? And that church doesn’t belong to Willowbrook any longer. It’s not even a church now.’
‘No, Liz, he’s not. But he and Mum would want us to have the sort of wedding we dreamed of.’
‘So you’re going to marry the chef?’
‘No! That’s not what I meant.’
‘I’m leaving now. I can get a taxi to your place.’
Kayla sighed. ‘Don’t worry about the taxi.’ She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped in a text message. The reply pinged immediately. ‘One of the drivers out the front will take you back. Take my keys to let yourself in.’
Kayla handed over the keys and, without another word, Liz turned to go.
‘Liz …’
Her sister stopped walkin
g.
‘Do you think about it? Getting married, I mean. Having a family. I always thought that you and Mitch would … well. You know.’
Liz didn’t answer. She just walked away.
Kayla stifled the urge to run after her sister and shake her until her teeth rattled. Until she came to her senses and recognised that there was more to life than a piece of land, no matter how precious it was.
‘One of these days,’ she muttered as she started thinking about work again.
CHAPTER
24
As soon as she stepped inside Kayla’s flat, Liz kicked off the shoes that had been tormenting her all evening. She glared at the heels, then wriggled her toes and sighed. How on earth did Kayla manage to walk in those things? The next step was to get out of the borrowed skirt and jacket. She carried the shoes through to the bedroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she did so. She looked like a fool.
She’d arrived at Kayla’s place in the early afternoon as instructed. The journey down the motorway to Sydney had been nothing, but she had hated every minute of weaving her way through the city traffic. Liz had never been to Kayla’s flat before and although she didn’t say it, she was impressed by the smart building and the glass doors opening onto a balcony with a view of Sydney Harbour.
Kayla had been much less impressed with Liz’s outfit, describing the slacks and blouse as better suited to a horse sale. She hadn’t been far off the mark, but Liz wasn’t going to admit it was the best outfit she owned. Luckily the two sisters were much the same size, and Kayla had pushed Liz into wearing something of hers for the evening. Liz’s place at the wedding was supposedly as one of Kayla’s staff and Kayla was going to make sure she looked the part. Liz had wondered if that was for her benefit or Kayla’s.