looked nothing like the relaxed young man she remembered.
She was beginning to feel normal again, but couldn’t bring herself to smile. Her emotions were too raw. She felt the slowing of her heartbeat and the fuzziness clearing from her head.
He still had the same deep blue eyes, though, and right now they were full of concern.
‘I’m fine,’ Tara replied. She hated the fact she’d let down her guard and revealed how vulnerable she could be before they’d even said hello. ‘I just get a bit light-headed sometimes. It never lasts for more than a few minutes.’ The tension in Ryan’s face relaxed. ‘Dad said you wanted to talk to me.’
Ryan stood up with an expression that was almost but not quite a smile.
Damn his charisma and amazing good looks. She was determined not to expose her emotions, though. He mustn’t know she still had feelings for him, but already she knew the spark was still there.
At least he wasn’t focused on her humiliating physical response to him. But that was the thing with panic attacks. She’d thought she had them beat but they could be triggered by the most unexpected and sometimes insignificant things.
‘There’s something I thought you needed to know.’
Her confidence was coming back.
‘I’d better sit down.’ Tara had become used to making jokes about her condition, to break the ice for people who weren’t comfortable with her disability, but this time it didn’t work. The frown on Ryan’s face was set in stone.
‘You’d better sit down, then.’ She pointed towards an old swing seat suspended from the rafters. She now felt calm and in charge of the emotions which had threatened to be her undoing a few moments ago.
‘Do you need any help?’
‘No.’
She set the chair in motion and forced him to move out of the way. Finally he sat down on the swing opposite her chair.
‘So, what is it you want to talk to me about that’s so important you were prepared to brave Dad and his threat to run you off the property?’
Ryan smiled.
But it didn’t last long.
‘He said that?’
‘Mmm, he did.’ She paused a moment, wondering how much of the past she could raise without ramping up the tension that already buzzed in the air between them. On reflection, she realised she had nothing to lose. It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress Ryan, and he was well aware of her parents’ dislike for him.
Ryan gazed into her eyes and she jolted at the unexpected connection. The feeling was from the past—something that had been exclusive to them alone—an understanding that she and Ryan had used to consider a sign of their closeness.
But it served no purpose now. She wasn’t going to reveal how she really felt.
He finally spoke.
‘I’m going to be working down here. I start in two weeks in the new specialist rooms attached to your clinic.’
He stared, as if trying to gauge her reaction. And she produced the goods in the form of a violent blush. Her heart began to race again, but she was determined to keep her cool despite the overwhelming shock of his revelation.
‘I thought it was better for you to know in advance, rather than just bumping into me at work one day.’
She swallowed and concentrated on the calm evenness of her breathing.
‘You could’ve easily phoned.’ She wondered at his motives. She’d not heard from this man for nearly six years—
since he’d finally got the message she didn’t want to be reminded of the past by his e-mails and calls. All she knew of him was through the medical grapevine—he was a successful orthopaedic surgeon, three years after they broken up he had remarried, and the last she’d heard he was overseas.
‘I wanted to see you …’
Tara found that hard to believe.
‘Why?’ That gnawing pain in her heart that visited her every day was demanding an answer. Anger surfaced unexpectedly. ‘Were you frightened of what you might see?’
Ryan looked genuinely hurt—a totally unanticipated reaction. She hadn’t meant to be cruel, but her emotions were ruling what came out of her mouth.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered.
‘No … You’re absolutely right. I should have phoned. I didn’t realise seeing you without warning would upset you.’ His pupils dilated, which made their rim of blue the colour of bright sky reflected in black ice. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’
She still wasn’t quite sure why he’d gone to the trouble of driving all the way to Keysdale and then out to the farm. It wasn’t the sort of visit a person would plan on the offchance. She suddenly felt resentful that he’d upset the ordered balance of her life.
He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap and said quietly, ‘How are your parents?’
It was a question she wasn’t expecting. She thought a moment before replying.
‘You’re not part of our lives any more. I’d describe Mum’s attitude to you as ambivalent, and Dad … well … you saw what he was like when he answered the door. But I don’t think they actually hate you. It’s what happened—the accident—they both still blame you for that.’
Ryan reached for Tara’s hand but she snatched it away. Seeing him was traumatic enough. She didn’t want any physical contact because … because she wasn’t sure how she’d react. The old desire she thought she’d buried long ago was still there. It frightened her.
‘And you?’
Tara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was hurting. Why was Ryan trawling through what had happened so long ago? No one was to blame for the accident. He was a good driver and had done what most people would have—tried to avoid their collision with a kangaroo. With devastating consequences. Her situation was a cross she had chosen to bear without him, and up until ten minutes ago she’d been managing perfectly okay.
She opened her eyes but didn’t look at Ryan.
‘You know I’ve never held you responsible.’ She sighed. ‘It happened, it was regrettable, but I’m over it and I think you should be too.’
Ryan brushed a piece of fluff from his sleeve.
‘Of course you’re right,’ he said. ‘But it isn’t enough to stop me feeling it was my fault. Can you understand how difficult it is for me to see you like …?’ The words seemed to stick in his throat and he swallowed.
Tara looked into the distance, trying to take on board what Ryan was saying. He was hurting too.
Neither of them could ever forget the crash and its aftermath, and sometimes Tara thought Ryan had been more damaged than she. His dreams had been blown apart—his career, the life they’d planned together, the children they’d so desperately wanted. They’d talked about her completing her GP training part-time. She’d been off the pill for a couple of months and the heartbreaking irony was that her period had been a week overdue. She’d planned on doing a home pregnancy test the following week, but the day after the accident she’d bled … and bled … and bled …
Another tragic loss.
It had been as if her lifeblood had drained from her, but she’d always put on a brave face.
Of course they both knew she was still physically capable of conceiving and bearing children. She’d assumed she was no longer sexually attractive to him, though, and even if she did have a child she would need help to look after it. With the long hours Ryan worked she would be effectively a single parent. Combined with her disability, the whole scenario