Page 5 of Where the Heart Is

Thankfully, Mila loved the farm, so Adelaide didn’t feel so bad leaving her with Jack. Though not a day went by in the ensuing years that she didn’t miss her grandkids. She wished she’d been around for Mila and it pained her that she hadn’t been tempted to return to Ashe Ridge to be with her granddaughter. But that would mean seeing Jack and too many years had passed by then for the two of them to reconcile.

Mila didn’t hold it against her, and they caught up for a girly weekend annually in Sydney. Mila was everything Adelaide wished she’d been at her age: strong-willed, determined, independent. She liked to think Mila got her resilience from her, but in truth her headstrong granddaughter had probably learned to look after herself because her parents had wanderlust and were never around.

Adelaide blamed herself for that. Maybe her yearning to leave the farm had somehow infiltrated Cam’s childhood so he wanted the same. She couldn’t call her son selfish for leaving his family behind when she’d done the same.

Her left hip twanged as she stepped onto the verandah, and she rubbed it. Endless hours on her feet while she painted added up at her age and while she considered seventy-three youngish—she still had a lot of living to do—her joints didn’t agree.

The cottage had a freshly painted ebony door and a brass knocker that the owner must polish daily to maintain its sheen; she could see her reflection in it.

Taking off her hat and running a hand through her hair, she lifted the brass knocker with her other hand and let it fall. She hoped the owners were home with their cars in the garage because she couldn’t see cars in the driveway.

She waited a minute and, heart sinking, she rapped the knocker twice. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a bolt being slid back and she exhaled in relief. If she could use the owner’s phone, she might make it to Mila’s wedding on time after all.

However, her relief was short-lived as the door swung open and she locked gazes with the last man on earth she expected to see.

CHAPTER

4

As Sawyer’s arms tightened around her and Mila allowed her body to relax into his embrace, the emotion of the last hour—heck, of the last year—bubbled up and she couldn’t hold it back.

To her mortification, a sob welled in her chest, followed by another, and before she knew it, unwelcome tears had soaked a patch on Sawyer’s shirt. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything; he just held her, the rhythmic stroking of his hand down her back equally soothing and annoying.

Annoying, because his touch resurrected long-buried memories of her massive teen crush.

She’d been hopeless back then, her skin burning whenever their fingers brushed as he handed her a drink or if he bumped her with his hip, as he often did when they joked around.

Sawyer had been Ashe Ridge’s resident clown, constantly making people laugh with his antics. His classmates had loved him for it. The teachers, not so much. He’d never cared, boasting about how he couldn’t wait to leave town.

But she’d seen beneath his brash exterior, had seen the flicker of hurt when someone labelled him as‘good for nothing’or said he’d‘never amount to anything’. She’d tried to ask him about it once and he’d clammed up, avoiding her for two weeks. It had been just before his final exams and he’d been at Hills Homestead every day, swotting with Will. Her brother had been a brainiac and she’d hoped his diligence would rub off on Sawyer, but Will’s best friend had left his cramming too late, and she’d sensed his panic.

When Will ducked out to help Gramps with the tractor, she’d approached Sawyer with the aim of calming him down. But the moment she’d mentioned that ATAR scores weren’t the be all and end all, and that plenty of people who weren’t book smart went far in life, he’d shut down.

She’d regretted it, because he’d avoided her for the next two weeks. The day after their last exam, Will and Sawyer hit the road—and never returned.

Sawyer hadn’t kept in touch, which hurt. She’d hidden her crush well and thought they were friends, even though he was Will’s bestie. But she’d got over it. So why was the feel of his arms around her now, and his familiar fragrance of fresh-cut grass and vetiver, making her want to cling to him?

She wasn’t the type of woman who needed a man to make her feel better, but in this moment, she tightened her arms around his waist and savoured the rare comfort of being held.

When the ache in her chest subsided and her sobs petered out, she relaxed her hold and eased away, unsure whether to be relieved or bereft when he released her.

‘You okay, Gumnut?’ Sawyer placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up. ‘I have to admit, I’ve known you for ages and seeing you cry still freaks me out.’

She grimaced, embarrassment scorching her cheeks. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Hey, don’t apologise. You’ve had a crappy day. You sure I can’t break Phil’s kneecaps in your honour?’ He chucked her on the chin, making her smile.

‘No, I’m not upset about Phil falling for some dating app bimbo, but I’m beyond worried how I’ll keep the farm afloat without his financial help.’

‘How bad is it?’

The last meeting with the bank manager, a month ago, and the mortgage payments she’d fallen behind on flashed before her eyes, but she blinked them away. ‘Bad enough.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘Not unless you have a few hundred grand floating around so I can complete my farm-stay project and get paying customers to book it out for the next millennium.’

She’d made a throwaway comment, her sarcasm something he should be used to—she’d used it often enough as a deflection technique when they’d been growing up—but she didn’t like the speculative gleam in his eyes, as if he’d taken her seriously.

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