your stay, Mr Dennison.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ he said cheerily, trying to convince himself, but he knew he’d spend most of his spare time soul-searching.
Before he climbed into his car he had a closer look at the brochure.
THE MILK FACTORY.
EXPERIENCE A WORKING DAIRY FARM FIRST HAND
Ten kilometres south of Keysdale, on Hill Park Road.
He scrutinised the photo then unfolded the leaflet.
Open for tours. Devonshire teas.
10 a.m. to 5 p.m. weekends and public holidays
Dairy tours including real-life milking 3 p.m.
Proprietors: Graham and Jane Fielding
He hadn’t even noticed.
There would have been signs. How could he have missed them? He must have been so focused on seeing Tara he’d been oblivious to anything else.
But it made him think.
Were the Fieldings struggling to make ends meet?
Did Tara have to go out to work?
Did the accident have anything to do with their situation?
He felt discomfort in the pit of his stomach.
So much had changed in the years since he’d lost contact with Tara and her family. His ex-wife certainly had.
He drove to his unit, grabbed his briefcase and overnight bag and let himself in. He rummaged in a tiny cupboard above the sink, found a sachet of instant coffee and filled the kettle. When the brew was made, he opened the sliding door which led to the veranda. The setting sun cast long shadows across the river and a cow’s gentle mooing echoed in the quiet. He seemed to have the place to himself.
With time to think.
About Tara.
It was impossible to erase her, and all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her more than a decade ago, from his mind.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and her fighting spirit had not been dulled by circumstance or time.
It suddenly occurred to him that he’d found out what he needed to know—he still loved her.
But he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about it.
After Ryan left, Tara needed some alone time to gather her thoughts, so she stayed on the veranda and watched a golden sun sink slowly towards the horizon.
Why?
Why now?
She’d mourned her decision to send Ryan away every day. The flame of her love for him still burned brightly, and seeing him again. It was like a dam bursting—as if time had stood still for those eight years and suddenly she was looking into the eyes of the man who, for her, would always be her soul mate.
How should she react?
He was divorced, but there was no way they could start again. She had a satisfying life she’d worked hard to achieve and Ryan had his life in the city. It shouldn’t be difficult to act cool and detached and very professional. After all she would rarely see him.
Yes … cool, detached and professional. She could do that.
Couldn’t she?
CHAPTER TWO
‘THE new orthopaedic surgeon starts today,’ said Kaylee, the young receptionist, as she operated the pneumatic lift that moved Tara’s wheelchair from her vehicle and placed it on the ground. Tara preferred to use her electric chair at work, as it provided greater manoeuvrability, but getting it on and off her vehicle was one of the few things she couldn’t manage herself and had reluctantly learned to live with.
‘I know.’ Tara had been counting the days and psyching herself up for her first meeting with Ryan in the workplace. None of the staff were aware of her history with him. Of course some of the close-knit community knew she’d been married, but Ryan was a city man, born and bred. He’d hated the idea of any kind of fuss and had always been a reluctant participant in their rare visits to the farm. And, the way she was feeling right now, it was a good thing. She didn’t want the burden of gossip to stress her any more than she was already. She certainly wasn’t prepared for a public airing of her past, which she’d spent the best part of the last eight years trying to forget.
Not yet. Not today.
She’d also had time to think about his visit to the farm two weeks ago and had pondered on his motives. In fact she’d questioned long and hard about why he would choose a job in Keysdale when not only did he hate rural life but he probably had the pick of any position he wanted?
The questions burned and she needed some answers … from Ryan.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the young receptionist.
‘And Jenny said he’s gorgeous.’
Kaylee positioned the wheelchair next to the driver’s seat and stood back as Tara used the strength in her arms to shift into it. The girl seemed oblivious to the flush of embarrassment that warmed Tara’s cheeks and prattled on.
‘Jen met him when he came down a couple of weekends ago. She said he’s really nice, as well as good-looking.’
‘What about the paediatrician? Isn’t she starting today as well?’
Tara was desperate to change the subject. She didn’t need to know that her ex-husband had already charmed at least one of the female staff, and probably the whole Saturday morning team.
‘Yeah, this afternoon. Val’s putting on a special lunch to welcome them both, and she’s asked their receptionist not to overbook on the first day so they’ll have time to meet us all.’
‘Oh.’
Tara had prepared herself for the possibility that she’d bump into Ryan at some stage during the day. The brand-new specialist offices, although housed in an extension to the GP clinic building, were separate and self-contained. They had their own reception area, procedure room and consulting suites, but the lunch room was shared. She’d planned to eat a sandwich in her room and catch up with her paperwork, but that wasn’t an option now. She’d be expected to make an appearance, at least.
Kaylee walked beside her as she steered through the self-opening doors and made her way to the busy waiting area, past Reception then to the doctors’ rooms beyond.
‘See you later,’ the teenager said as their paths diverged.
Tara nodded and forced a smile, eager to reach the privacy of her consulting room so she could take a minute or two to compose herself. She’d never had a panic attack at work and she wasn’t about to change that today.
Ryan scanned the room full of chattering staff but couldn’t see Tara. He lingered a moment in the doorway, taking in the table laden with a bounty of home-cooked food, but was soon approached by the principal doctor at Keysdale Medical Clinic, Rob Whelan. The man greeted Ryan with a welcoming grin.
‘I’ll introduce you to the mob, and then you can eat …’ his grin broadened ‘… and mingle.’
Rob reeled off a long list of names Ryan would never remember to associate with the endless stream of nodding, smiling faces. Then, his gaze automatically following his colleague’s, he turned, and it was as if the waters parted. People moved out of the way as Tara wheeled herself into the room with a barely suppressed scowl on her face and rosy colour in her cheeks.
‘And last but not least …’ Rob said, resting his hand lightly on Tara’s shoulder. ‘Dr Tara Fielding.’ He glanced at Ryan. ‘This is Ryan Dennison, our new visiting orthopaedic surgeon.’
Thank