Page 6 of Where the Heart Is

Before he could say anything, she rushed on. ‘Anyway, why don’t you come inside and have something to eat? There’s some catered food that needs to be consumed, frozen, or thrown out.’

Thankfully, he bought her distraction. ‘How many guests were you expecting?’

She screwed up her nose, beyond grateful Phil was taking care of calling them. Then again, it’s the least he could do, considering he’d been the one to cancel their wedding.

It seemed ridiculous thinking about it now, that she’d been about to marry her neighbour out of desperation, loneliness, and her obsessive love for this farm. Her entire life had revolved around this farm once her folks dumped her here, and she loved every inch of the place: the family homestead silhouetted against vast blue skies, the endless paddocks covered in stubby lentil seedlings, the secluded dam, the golden sunsets. A marriage of convenience, an antiquated notion she’d scoffed at when she’d read romance novels in her teens, seemed a small price to pay for saving her pride and joy.

Losing Hills Homestead, her family’s legacy, wasn’t an option.

And she’d do whatever it took—including marry for mutual financial gain—to save it.

With that option now off the table, she had no idea how she’d save the one thing in the world that meant everything to her.

‘Hey, if you have to think that long about how many guests you were expecting, I’m guessing you didn’t send out the invitations?’

She gave her head a little shake. ‘Sorry, drifted off for a moment. It was going to be a small ceremony, with guests from Phil’s side mainly.’

Disapproval grooved his brow. ‘Were you really going through with it?’

‘For Hills Homestead, absolutely.’

‘But you would’ve given up some land—’

‘A small price to pay to save the rest of it,’ she said, her tone unintentionally sharp. She shrugged. ‘I know it sounds ludicrous, but I have my reasons for wanting to hang on to this place at all costs.’ She paused and gave him her best stern stare. ‘Reasons I have no intention of discussing with you.’

Annoyingly, he chuckled and held up his hands. ‘Whoa. No need to divulge your deepest, darkest secrets to me. I’m just here because Will couldn’t be.’

‘My brother used to eat bugs yet his lousy immune system fails him now,’ she muttered, and this time Sawyer laughed outright. ‘Anyway, I’ve over-catered, so come have some food.’

Because if Sawyer was chewing, he wouldn’t be talking and asking questions she had no intention of answering. Like why she’d bawled in his arms and the sheer, unadulterated terror that now gripped her at the thought of what the hell she’d do next.

CHAPTER

5

Sawyer had never coped well with tears.

When his sisters sobbed over a lost love/crush gone wrong/ boy-band breakup, he’d made himself scarce and waited out the tantrums by riding his bike to the other side of town and hunkering down by the river—more a trickle even in winter.

As for seeing Mila cry … it rarely happened. He’d been Will’s mate since the first day of Year 5—though he’d known the Hayes kids for years before that because they’d spent every school holidays at the farm—and with Mila a year younger, he’d almost seen as much of her as he had of Will. She’d trailed after them and Will hadn’t minded, so he’d put up with it too. Mila had a way about her, a quiet inner confidence, that made him feel settled when he was around her. She was funny too and her astute observations about the kids at school made him laugh.

As for the rest … she’d been the only person to see through him, to recognise that he used humour as a deflection, to wonder if there was more going on, and he’d run because of it.

Though he should thank her, because if she hadn’t sown the seed in his head, he wouldn’t have got diagnosed at the ripe old age of twenty and changed his life.

‘Hope you’re hungry,’ she said, holding open the back door and gesturing him in.

Seeing her so upset and comforting her in his arms had ruined his appetite, so the sight of the table covered in fancy finger food held little appeal. Entering the farmhouse kitchen had him stepping back in time to the many afternoons after school when he’d run into this warm, cosy space, dropped his bag at the door, grabbed a lamington and a chocolate milk, and raced outside with Will to play cricket in summer or kick the footy in winter.

It had been the highlight of his day and the one thing that got him through the tedious drudgery of being confined in a classroom, being picked on by the teachers because they thought he was lazy rather than stupid and laughed at by his peers because they couldn’t tell the difference.

‘This place hasn’t changed a bit,’ he said, when he noticed Mila staring at him with a quizzical expression. ‘Brings back memories.’

‘I haven’t had the time or funds to sink into renovating the main house when I’m hellbent on getting the farm stay up and running.’ She shrugged, but he caught the pride in her eyes as she glanced around the kitchen. ‘Besides, I like it this way.’

He’d never understood Mila’s attachment to this place. Like Will, he couldn’t wait to escape Ashe Ridge and he hadn’t looked back. But Mila had always been a homebody and she’d loved Hills Homestead with a fervour that bordered on obsession. Which explained why she’d been about to marry a sleazy older guy to hold on to it.

Anger fizzed in his veins at the thought of Phil Baxter anywhere near Mila, let alone laying a hand on her. Mila may have said it would’ve been a platonic marriage for mutual financial benefit, but he knew Phil. He remembered the way the older guy would ply women with drinks at barbecues, schmoozing up to them, giving off desperado vibes. And that was before he’d overheard his sisters Phoebe and Jocelyn talking about how Phil had asked Phoebe out and when she’d refused, he’d proceeded to brush up against her for the rest of the night at the pub. He’d hated the creep ever since.

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