her first year at Sydney University. Thrilled by the newness of it all, she’d signed up for various interest clubs and had been searching for the equestrian club when she’d bumped into a tall, dark-haired guy doing the same thing. One glance had told her he was a country boy, his Western jeans, blue and white checked shirt and elastic-sided riding boots a dead giveaway. All that had been missing was an Akubra, the iconic Australian wide-brimmed hat.
‘They’ve closed the equestrian club for lack of interest,’ he’d said gloomily.
‘But I’m interested,’ she’d said.
‘So am I,’ he’d said.
‘That makes two of us.’
Then they’d looked at each other—really looked—and laughed. ‘Why don’t we start our own club?’ he’d said.
‘Let’s go grab a coffee and talk about how we’d do that,’ she’d said.
Excitement had hummed through her. He had been quite the hottest guy she’d seen on campus. But from the get-go it had been strictly a hands-off scenario. Wil had just started dating a girl and she’d still been seeing her high-school boyfriend. Despite that—perhaps because of that—she and Wil had fallen immediately into an easy friendship, talking non-stop for more than an hour. They’d done nothing about reviving the moribund university equestrian club. But the next weekend they’d driven up together to the Blue Mountains to horseback ride in the Megalong Valley.
This time, their hour-and-a-half journey to the mountains took them to a suburban area on the wrong side of Katoomba. Wil told her that his ex-wife had moved up there after their final split. The streets were steep and hilly, lined with small, free-standing houses, the bush never too far away. Georgia laughed when they had to sound the horn at a small flock of sheep grazing at the side of the road. No dimple from Wil. He was obviously too focused on what was to come to engage in her speculation about whether the sheep had escaped, or it was considered okay up here for sheep to wander all over a suburban street.
He pulled up in front of a shabby but tidy cottage, surrounded by a neat garden. ‘This is the sister’s place,’ he said. ‘She’s been looking after Nina since the accident.’ He made no move to get out of the car.
‘Nina is such a pretty name,’ she said.
‘Yeah. I like it,’ he said.
Georgia let him sit there, his gaze focused on the bright blue front door of the house, until the silence got uncomfortable. ‘So, operation baby pick up,’ she prompted. ‘What’s the next step?’
‘The social worker Maree meets us at the house to facilitate the handover. She’s in there now.’
‘And then you’re a daddy,’ she said. It scarcely seemed real to her. He would walk out of that house with a baby in his arms. A baby for keeps.
Wil turned to her, the colour drained from his face. ‘That’s what terrifies me. I want to do the right thing. But what do I know about being a dad? It’s not just the nappies or what to feed her. I’ll nail that. Suppose I haven’t got it in me to be a good parent?’
The anguish in his face told her there was something more going on here. She’d often had the feeling there was more to Wil than he’d ever let on to her. Something, perhaps, to do with his upbringing. She knew he’d been orphaned as a young child. But as a friend she’d never questioned his past. Right now he needed morale-boosting more than anything else.
‘The fact that you feel responsible for her is a very good start. That you’re actually here is a huge point in your favour.’
‘Guys usually have time to get used to the idea of being a father.’ He drummed his fingers on the edge of the steering wheel. ‘I’ve been thrown in the deep end.’
‘That’s true. You’ll have to learn on the spot. But you’re a clever guy. It seems to me that so far you’re doing great.’
‘She’s a baby now, but then she’ll be a little girl, then a teenager. I’ll be the father of a teenager, Georgie. How do I do that?’
‘It is a bit hard to imagine, isn’t it?’ she said. She and Wil had been teenagers when they’d met; it didn’t seem that long ago. ‘But you’ll grow with her and the next thing you know you’ll be giving her away at her wedding.’
‘Father of the bride? That’s a stretch too far,’ he said with a hint of that dimple finally appearing.
There was something about his slow smile, the way it lit his dark eyes, that had always made her believe she was special to Wil—as a friend. She could only imagine what it might be like to have that smile directed at her in the sensual, exciting way that had had women flocking to him. But she had never allowed herself to imagine it. Too scared that if she ever acted on it he might kindly reject her. She wasn’t about to start now.
‘Wil, what you’re doing will be life-changing. There’s no way around that. But take it baby step by baby step,’ she said, returning his smile.
‘You always know the right thing to say,’ he said.
‘Not always.’ I’m afraid my give-a-damn quota has expired. ‘But in this case, I say just go in and get your baby. I’ll show you how to change a nappy if the need arises. How about that for an act of friendship?’
He grimaced. ‘Changing nappies is one aspect of parenthood I’m not looking forward to. Prepared for it but dreading it.’
‘Hey, you muck out stables. You’ll get used to it.’ She certainly hadn’t, no matter how much she loved her little nieces and nephews. Maybe nappy-changing would be more bearable if the child was your own. Anyway, Wil could well afford to hire a nanny to help him with the practical aspects of parenting.
‘You’re right. I’m going in,’ he said. He unbuckled his seat belt with a resolute air, as if gearing himself up for action on a battlefield. Four days ago he had had no idea he was a father.
‘Do you want me to actually come inside with you?’ she asked, trying to sound as if she didn’t mind either way. She wasn’t sure if he’d just wanted her company on the drive. Of course she was dying of curiosity to see what the baby was like, but mainly she wanted to be there for him—someone on his side.
He turned to her. ‘Please. I don’t know that I can do this without your support.’
‘Of course you could.’ She undid her seat belt. ‘But there’s strength in numbers and I’m very happy to be your wing woman.’
A drier heat than humid Sydney, crisp with the sharp scent of eucalypts from the thousands of acres of national park that surrounded the mountain town. The sound of cicadas serenading summer was almost deafening. She stood with Wil at the top of the driveway to the sister’s house and smoothed down the skirt of her grape-coloured linen shift dress. Teamed with a low-heeled court shoe, it was a favourite schoolteacher outfit, smart yet respectable. Just the thing to help her friend claim his child.
‘I want to do this,’ he said fiercely. ‘I’ll fight to have this child with me. She’s mine.’
‘I’ve never seen anyone more fearless on horseback. You can do it. You really can, Wil.’
She didn’t want to admit she was nervous. This was so out of her experience, had happened so quickly. One minute she’d been packing boxes, just hours later she was in the mountains with Wil, whom she hadn’t seen for two years, to pick up his baby. The baby he hadn’t known existed. It seemed surreal to say the least.
He turned to look down into her face, dark eyes sincere and warm with gratitude. It was so good to be with him again. ‘Thank you,’ he said slowly. ‘I’ll owe you one after this.’
‘You don’t owe me a thing,’ she said. ‘I’m happy to help. No exchange of favours required.’
Who knew when she would actually see him again after