her, as he did up the last of his shirt buttons. ‘Are we milking the cows?’
Her eyes smiled. She didn’t give her mouth permission to do the same. ‘It’s the perfect lighting then. Nothing to do with cows. I want to capture you in the wide-open paddock just as the sun rises, with a single eucalyptus tree on the horizon. Single man, single tree. Blatant symbolism.’
‘Single eucalyptus tree?’ he asked with a quizzical frown dividing his dark brows. ‘Have you actually seen the McKenzies’ property or are you just hoping to find a backdrop like that?’
Laine shifted the heavy bag a little on her shoulder. She didn’t want to admit she knew the property like the back of her hand. That she had spent time there when she’d been growing up. She had hoped to avoid questions like this but realised that it was nearly impossible. When she had discovered that Dr Pierce Beaumont, her final shoot in the calendar, was the resident general practitioner in Uralla she had been filled with dread. When the bus had pulled out of the town all those years ago, its final destination Sydney, she had begun to barricade her emotions—one brick at a time. Each signpost she had passed had laid another piece of rock around her heart.
For a few years Sydney had become her home and then New York. She chose cities that prevented her from forming lasting relationships. Cities as cold and detached as the person she needed to become. She wasn’t strong enough to remain in a town as kind as Uralla. She didn’t have any more tears, or anything left inside to save her again. There could never be another heartache, for the next one would most definitely be the end of her. So Melanie Phillips had taken matters into her own hands. She had changed her name just enough to feel like a different person and she’d moved on, successfully burying herself in a busy and demanding life. A life without love and all the risks and sadness it brought.
When she had agreed to the calendar assignment, Laine had had no inkling that she would be spending time in this familiar little town in country New South Wales. She’d assumed it would be capital cities or large beachside towns. Not a town so small it didn’t really factor into most people’s knowledge of Australian geography. It was as pretty as a picture but famous for nothing more than being not too far from the centre of country music in Australia and for having a major highway as a main street. It was a town where you could leave your front door unlocked and know nothing would be taken because the locals were either family or friends.
She had once loved living there and now she assumed Pierce felt the same.
‘I was out at the McKenzies’ this morning. I drove there to check the setting was suitable after my plane touched down in Armidale.’
Pierce’s curiosity was further heightened but he said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself as he watched her nervously shift her stance. He had no right to question her or ask more about her than she was willing to offer. He was a private person. His past was off limits so why should hers be any different?
His life had effectively started when he’d come to Uralla two years before. He had never spoken about his past or his family, except to say that his aunt had been given custody of him after his parents had passed away when he was a child. The circle of people his father and mother had once called friends had never tried to make contact after the tragedy so they hadn’t factored into his thoughts as he’d grown older. When the parties on his parents’ yacht had ceased, so had their friends’ interest in Pierce.
However, their children had sought him out years later, when he’d been a young adult. At first he’d thought they’d actually cared about their friendship with him, but that belief had been short-lived when it had become clear these long-lost friends had only needed him to pay their tabs. It hadn’t taken long for Pierce to realise that all they really valued was his family money—especially the women. All eager to snare a wealthy husband, they never tried to hide their love of the luxury lifestyle they assumed he would lavish on them if they were to become his wife.
Pierce wanted none of it. He wanted what his parents had never had. Real friends. The type that didn’t care if your car was twenty years old and gave you a place to sleep if you needed it. Although he would never need to be given a helping hand with regard to money—he was indisputably one of the richest young men in Australia. His wealth, generated from his father’s mining and real estate interests, was handled by his business manager in Sydney.
And so, one day, when he’d realised he wanted more from his life, Pierce had simply disappeared from high society and moved to a town he had heard about during medical school. A town that he hoped he would be happy to call home.
The townsfolk never asked more than he was willing to give, they never pried into his past, and he was happy with that arrangement. Everything he’d done after driving down the New England Highway and into Uralla was on the table. Anything before that was not discussed. The circus that had been his life had dissipated just as he had hoped. His new life was too quiet and uneventful to create any interest in the media—in fact, many thought that his inheritance was all gone, the proceeds lost to bad investments.
Out of the eyes of the press, Pierce quietly directed the accountant to make donations in the company name to deserving causes. A silent philanthropist, he never used any of the money in his personal life. And he wouldn’t want it any other way. He knew who his friends were and without the family money there would be fewer enemies. Keeping his past to himself was working quite nicely.
Perhaps Laine had her reasons too. Clearly her accent was Australian, albeit with an international flavour, and he knew she was based in New York. He had just assumed she would have grown up in another big city like Sydney. But somehow she knew her way around Uralla.
‘I know the town, I spent some time here eons ago,’ Laine told him. She didn’t want to get into it so kept the explanation brief. ‘But it’s immaterial. I just need you there at four-thirty and then in the late afternoon I thought we’d head over to Saumarez Homestead. They have a barn with a spectacular panoramic view. I would like to capture you in the doorway just as the sun sets.’
‘Lighting, right?’
‘Yes, lighting and amazing scenery. New England is a stunning part of Australia and I want to do it justice,’ she said, then added, ‘Besides, the early morning shoot will allow you to see patients during the day and then we can head out again around five in the afternoon. Minimal disruption to your day and daylight saving will add value to mine, giving me sufficient time to set up my equipment and still catch the sunset.’
‘Yes, my patients,’ Pierce remarked. He felt slightly guilty that being so close to this woman had made him almost forget the day ahead. No woman had ever made such an impression in such a short space of time. She was a conundrum. He wanted to know more about her but he didn’t feel he had the right to ask too many questions. It was against his view of life, his belief in respecting privacy and boundaries. Suddenly those values began slipping as the desire to know everything he could about this woman began to grow. Her confidence was evident but it was not grandiose. She seemed so focused and serious. Almost a little too serious.
‘You really do have a feel for this town. I’m assuming it wasn’t a fleeting visit or, if it was, this sleepy enclave made an impression on you.’ He wasn’t able to mask his interest any longer—plus, there was also the chance she might open up just a little.
Laine took a deep breath. The town had left more than an impression. It had been the best and worst. The happiest and saddest. It had been her life and then it had ended. Laine knew she had to put the past behind her. She had an assignment to complete and a very different life waiting for her in New York and wherever in the world she was called to work next. Uralla had to remain business—sentiment didn’t pay dividends for her any more.
‘I will not intrude on any more of your time than I have to over the next couple of days, I promise,’ she replied, ignoring his comment. ‘But now I need to get these bags to my car and head back to my hotel. I have calls to make and emails to attend to this evening.’
‘Sure. Let me take one of those.’ Pierce accepted Laine’s right to pass on answering him and reached for one of her bags, walking to the back door of the practice.