The Bridesmaid’s Baby
Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

About the Author

Dear Reader

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Copyright

Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, educated in Brisbane, and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical North Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing, and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy.

Visit www.barbarahannay.com

Dear Reader

Just as I finished writing THE BRIDESMAID’S BABY my son’s wife gave birth to not one but two darling girls, Milla and Sophie, identical twins. They are the sweetest little heroines, and their safe arrival was a wonderful thrill for all of our family. For me it was also the perfect way to end my project Baby Steps to Marriage…

It’s been a huge pleasure for me to write two linked books, and I’ve had such fun making the dream of a much-wanted baby come true in two quite different stories.

In THE BRIDESMAID’S BABY, which is Lucy and Will’s story, I had the extra pleasure of sharing Mattie and Jake’s wedding with you. It was lovely to revisit the heroine and hero from EXPECTING MIRACLE TWINS, and to let you see that the babies, Jasper and Mia, are thriving.

In Lucy and Will’s story I was also able to explore one of my favourite romantic themes—friends to lovers—and to set their romance in the idyllic country town of Willowbank, where Lucy and Will, Mattie, Gina and Tom had all grown up.

As you can imagine, Willowbank and these characters are now incredibly special to me, as are the dear little babies. I can already imagine a new generation…and who knows where that will lead?

I hope you enjoy Lucy and Will’s journey to marriage and parenthood.

Warmest wishes

Barbara

PROLOGUE

A PARTY was in full swing at Tambaroora.

The homestead was ablaze with lights and brightly coloured Chinese lanterns glowed in the gardens. Laughter and the happy voices of young people joined the loud music that spilled out across the dark paddocks where sheep quietly grazed.

Will Carruthers was going away, setting out to travel the world, and his family and friends were sending him off in style.

‘Have you seen Lucy?’ Mattie Carey asked him as he topped up her wine glass.

‘I’m sure I have,’ Will replied, letting his gaze drift around the room, seeking Lucy’s bright blonde hair. ‘She was here a minute ago.’

Mattie frowned. ‘I’ve been looking for her everywhere.’

‘I’ll keep an eye out,’ Will said with a shrug. ‘If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.’ He moved on to top up other guests’ glasses.

But by the time he’d completed a circuit of the big living room and the brightly lit front and side verandas, Will still hadn’t seen Lucy McKenty and he felt a vague stirring of unease. Surely she wouldn’t leave the party without saying goodbye. She was, in many ways, his best friend.

He went to the front steps and looked out across the garden, saw a couple, suspiciously like his sister Gina and Tom Hutchins, kissing beneath a jacaranda, but there was still no sign of Lucy.

She wasn’t in the kitchen either. Will stood in the middle of the room, scratching his head and staring morosely at the stacks of empty bottles and demolished food platters. Where was she?

His brother Josh came in to grab another bottle of bubbly from the fridge.

‘Seen Lucy?’ Will asked.

Josh merely shook his head and hurried away to his latest female conquest.

A movement outside on the back veranda caught Will’s attention. It was dark out there and he went to the kitchen doorway to scan the veranda’s length, saw a slim figure in a pale dress, leaning against a veranda post, staring out into the dark night.

‘Lucy?’

She jumped at the sound of his voice.

‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ he said, surprised by the relief flowing through him like wine. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I had a headache.’ She spoke in a small, shaky voice. ‘So I came outside for a bit of quiet and fresh air.’

‘Has it helped?’

‘Yes, thanks. I feel much better.’

Will moved beside her and rested his arms on the railing, looking out, as she was, across the dark, limitless stretch of the sheep paddocks.

For the past four years the two of them had been away at Sydney University, two friends from the tiny country town of Willowbank, adrift in a sea of thousands of strangers. Their friendship had deepened during the ups and downs of student life, but now those years were behind them.

Lucy had come home to start work as a country vet, while Will, who’d studied geology, was heading as far away as possible, hurrying overseas, hungry for adventure and new experiences.

‘You’re not going to miss this place, are you?’ she said.

Will laughed. ‘I doubt it.’ His brother Josh would be here to help their father run Tambaroora. It was the life Josh, as the eldest son, was born to, what he wanted. For Will, escape had never beckoned more sweetly, had never seemed more reasonable. ‘I wish you were coming too.’

Lucy made a soft groaning sound. ‘Don’t start that again, Will.’

‘Sorry.’ He knew this was a sore point. ‘I just can’t understand why you don’t want to escape, too.’

‘And play gooseberry to you and Cara? How much fun would that be?’

The little catch in Lucy’s voice alarmed Will.

‘But we’re sure to meet up with other travellers, and you’d make lots of friends. Just like you always have.’

Lucy had arrived in Willowbank during their last year at high school and she’d quickly fitted into Will’s close circle but, because they’d shared a mutual interest in science, she and Will had become particularly good friends, really good friends.

He looked at her now, standing on the veranda in the moonlight, beautiful in an elfin, tomboyish way, with sparkly blue eyes and short blonde hair and soft pale skin. A strange lump of hot metal burned in his throat.

Lucy lifted her face to him and he saw a tear tremble on the end of her lashes and run down her cheek.

‘Hey, Goose.’ He used her nickname and forced a shaky laugh. ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to miss me.’

‘Of course I won’t miss you,’ she cried, whirling away so he couldn’t see her face.

Shocked, Will reached out to her. She was wearing a strapless dress and his hands closed over her bare shoulders. Her skin was silky beneath his hands and, as he drew her back against him, she was small and soft in his arms. She smelled clean like rain. He dipped his head and her hair held the fragrance of flowers.

Without warning he began to tremble with the force of unexpected emotion.

‘Lucy,’ he whispered but, as he turned her around to face him, anything else that he might have said was choked off by the sight of her tears.

His heart behaved very strangely as he traced the tears’ wet tracks with his fingertips. He felt the heated softness of her skin and when he reached the dainty curve of her tear-dampened lips, he knew that he had to kiss her.

He couldn’t resist gathering her close and tasting the delicate saltiness of her tears and the sweetness of her skin and, finally, the softness of her mouth. Oh, God.

With the urgency of a wild bee discovering the world’s most tempting honey, Will pulled her closer and took the kiss deeper. Lucy wound her arms around his neck and he could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. His body caught fire.

How could this be happening?

Where on earth had Lucy learned to kiss? Like this?

She was so sweet and wild and passionate—turning him on like nothing he’d ever known.

Was this really Lucy McKenty in his arms? His heart was bursting inside his chest.

‘Lucy?’ Mattie’s voice called suddenly. ‘Is that you out there, Lucy?’

Light flooded them. Will and Lucy sprang apart and Mattie stared at them, shocked.

They stared at each other, equally shocked.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mattie said, turning bright red.

‘No, it’s OK,’ they both protested in unison.

‘We were just—’ Will began.

‘Saying goodbye,’ Lucy finished and then she laughed. It was a rather wild, strange little laugh, but it did the trick.

Everyone relaxed. Mattie stopped blushing. ‘Josh thought you might like to make a speech soon,’ she told him.

‘A speech?’ Will sounded as dazed as he felt.

‘A farewell speech.’

‘Oh, yes. I’d better say something now before everyone gets too sloshed.’

They went back inside and, with the speed of a dream that faded upon waking, the moment on the veranda evaporated.

The spell was broken.

Everyone gathered around Will and, as he looked out at the sea of faces and prepared to speak, he thought guiltily of Cara, his girlfriend, waiting for him to join her in Sydney. Then he glanced at Lucy and saw no sign of tears. She was smiling and looking like her happy old self and he told himself everything was OK.

Already he was sure he’d imagined the special magic in that kiss.

CHAPTER ONE

THERE were days when Lucy McKenty knew she was in the wrong job. A woman in her thirties with a loudly ticking biological clock should not devote huge chunks of her time to delivering gorgeous babies.

Admittedly, the babies Lucy delivered usually had four legs and a tail, but that didn’t stop them from being impossibly cute, and it certainly didn’t stop her from longing for a baby. Just one baby of her own to hold and to love.

The longing swept through her now as she knelt in the straw beside the calf she’d just delivered. The birthing had been difficult, needing ropes and a great deal of Lucy’s perspiration, but now, as she shifted the newborn closer to his exhausted mother’s head, she felt an all too familiar wrench on her heartstrings.

The cow opened her eyes and began to lick her calf, slowly, methodically, and Lucy smiled as the newborn nuzzled closer. She never tired of this miracle.

Within minutes, the little calf was wobbling to his feet, butting at his mother’s side, already urging her to join him in a game.

Nothing could beat the joy of new life.

Except…this idyllic scene was an uncomfortable reminder that Lucy had very little chance of becoming a mother. She’d already suffered one miscarriage and now there was a failed IVF treatment behind her. She was sure she was running out of time. The women in her family had a track record of early menopause and she lived with an ever growing sense of her biological clock counting off the months, days, hours, minutes.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Swallowing a sigh, Lucy stood slowly and stretched muscles that had been strained as she’d hauled the calf into the world. She glanced through the barn doorway and saw that the shadows had lengthened across the golden grass of the home paddock.

‘What’s the time?’ she asked Jock Evans, the farmer who’d called her in a panic several hours earlier.

Instead of checking his wrist, Jock turned slowly and squinted at the mellowing daylight outside. ‘Just gone five, I reckon.’

‘Already?’ Lucy hurried to the corner of the barn where she’d left her things, including her watch. She checked it. Jock was dead right. ‘I’m supposed to be at a wedding rehearsal by half past five.’

Jock’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting married, Lucy?’

‘Me? Heavens, no.’ Peeling off sterile gloves, she manufactured a gaiety she didn’t feel. ‘Mattie Carey’s the lucky girl getting married. I’m just a bridesmaid.’

Again, she added silently.

The farmer didn’t try to hide his relief. ‘I’m glad you haven’t been snapped up. The Willow Creek district can’t afford to have you whisked away from us.’

‘Well, there’s not much chance.’

‘Most folks around here reckon you’re the best vet we’ve ever had.’

‘Thanks, Jock.’ Lucy sent him a grateful smile, but as she went through to the adjoining room to clean up, her smile wavered and then collapsed.

She really, really loved her job, and she’d worked hard for many years before the local farmers finally placed their trust in a mere ‘slip of a girl’. Now she’d finally earned their loyalty and admiration and she knew she should be satisfied, but lately this job hadn’t felt like enough.

She certainly didn’t want to be married to it!

For Will Carruthers, coming home to Willowbank always felt like stepping back in time. In ten years the sleepy country town had barely changed.

The wide main street was still filled with the same old fashioned flower beds. The bank, the council chambers, the post office and the barber shop all looked exactly as they had when Will first left home.

Today, as he climbed out of his father’s battered old truck, the familiar landmarks took on a dreamlike quality. But when he pushed open the gate that led to the white wooden church, where tomorrow his best mate would marry one of his oldest friends, he couldn’t help thinking that this sense of time standing still was a mere illusion.

The buildings and the landscape might have stayed the same, but the people who lived here had changed. Oh, yeah. Every person who mattered in Will’s life had changed a great deal.

And here was the funny thing. Will had left sleepy old Willowbank, eager to shake its dust from his heels and to make his mark on the world. He’d traversed the globe more times than he cared to count, but now, in so many ways, he felt like the guy who’d been left behind.

From inside the church the wailing cries of a baby sounded, a clear signal of the changes that had taken place. Will’s sister Gina appeared at the church door, jiggling a howling ginger-headed infant on her hip.

When she saw her brother, her face broke into a huge smile.

‘Will, I’m so glad you made it. Gosh, it’s lovely to see you.’ Reaching out, she beckoned him closer, gave him a one armed hug. ‘Heavens, big brother, have I shrunk or have you grown even taller?’

‘Maybe the weight of motherhood is wearing you down.’ Will stooped to kiss her, then smiled as he studied her face. ‘I take that back, Gina. I don’t think you’ve ever looked happier.’

‘I know,’ she said beaming. ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? I seem to have discovered my inner Earth Mother.’

He grinned and patted her baby’s chubby arm. ‘This must be Jasper. He’s certainly a chip off the old block.’ The baby was a dead ringer for his father, Tom, right down to his red hair. ‘G’day, little guy.’

Jasper stopped crying and stared at Will with big blue eyes, shiny with tears.

‘Gosh, that shut him up.’ Gina grinned and winked. ‘You must have the knack, Will. I knew you’d be perfect uncle material.’

Will chuckled to cover an abrupt slug of emotion that had caught him by surprise. Gina’s baby was incredibly cute. His skin was soft and perfectly smooth, his eyes bright and clear. There were dimples on his chubby hands and, crikey, dimples on his knees. And, even though he was only four months old, he was unmistakably sturdy and masculine.

‘What a great little guy,’ he said, his voice rough around the edges.

Gina was watching him shrewdly. ‘Ever thought of having a little boy of your own, Will?’

He covered his sigh with a lopsided grin. ‘We both know I’ve been too much of a gypsy.’

Reluctant to meet his sister’s searching gaze, Will studied a stained glass window and found himself remembering a church in Canada, where, only days ago, he’d attended the funeral of a work colleague. He could still see the earnest face of his friend’s ten-year-old son, could see the pride in the boy’s eyes as he’d bravely faced the congregation and told them how much he’d loved his dad.

Hell, if he let himself think about that father and son relationship now, he’d be a mess in no time.

Hunting for a distraction, Will slid a curious glance towards the chattering group at the front of the church. ‘I hope I’m not late. The rehearsal hasn’t started, has it?’

‘No, don’t fret. Hey, everyone!’ Gina raised her voice. ‘Will’s here.’

The chatter stopped. Heads turned and faces broke into smiles. A distinct lump formed in Will’s throat.

How good it was to see them all again. Tom, Gina’s stolid farmer husband, was grinning like a Cheshire cat as he held baby Mia, Jasper’s twin sister.

Mattie, the bride-to-be, looked incredibly happy as she stood with her bridegroom’s arm about her shoulders.

Mattie was marrying Jake Devlin and Will still couldn’t get over the changes in Jake. The two men had worked together on a mine site in Mongolia and they’d quickly become great mates, but Will could have sworn that Jake was not the marrying kind.

No one had been more stunned when Jake, chief breaker of feminine hearts, had fallen like a ton of bricks for Mattie Carey.

One look at Jake’s face now, however, and Will couldn’t doubt the truth of it. Crikey, his mate had never looked so relaxed and happy—at peace with himself and eager to take on the world.

As for Mattie…Will had known her all his life…but now she looked…well, there was only one word…

Mattie looked transformed.

Radiant and beautiful only went part way to describing her.

He couldn’t detect any sign that she’d recently given birth to twins—to Gina and Tom’s babies, in fact, in a wonderful surrogacy arrangement that had brought untold blessings to everyone involved. Mattie was not only slim once again, but she’d acquired a new confidence that blazed in her eyes, in her glowing smile, in the way she moved.

All this Will noticed as everyone gathered around him, offering kisses, handshakes and backslaps.

‘So glad you could make it,’ Jake said, pumping his hand.

‘Try to keep me away, mate. I’d pay good money to see you take the plunge tomorrow.’

‘We’re just waiting for the minister and his wife,’ Mattie said. ‘And for Lucy.’

Lucy.

It was ages since Will had seen Lucy, and he’d never been happy about the way they’d drifted apart, although it had seemed necessary at the time. ‘Is Lucy coming to the wedding rehearsal?’

‘Of course,’ Mattie said. ‘Didn’t you know? Lucy’s a bridesmaid.’

‘I thought Gina was the bridesmaid.’

Gina laughed. ‘You haven’t been paying attention, Will. Technically, I’m the matron of honour because I’m an old married woman. Lucy’s the bridesmaid, you’re the best man and Tom’s stepping in as a groomsman because Jake’s cousin can’t get away.’

‘I see. Of course.’

It made sense. If Will had given any proper thought to the make-up of the wedding party, he should have known that Mattie would ask Lucy to be a bridesmaid. She was a vital member of their old ‘gang’.

And he was totally cool about seeing her again, even though their relationship had been complicated since his brother’s death eight years ago.

He was surprised, that was all, by the unexpected catch in his breath at the thought of seeing her again.

Lucy glanced in the rear-view mirror as her ute bounced down the rough country road towards town. Cringe. Her hair was limp and in dire need of a shampoo and she knew she looked decidedly scruffy.

She’d cleaned up carefully after delivering the calf, but she couldn’t be sure that her hair and clothes were completely free of mud or straw. Steering one-handed, she tried to fingercomb loose strands into some kind of tidiness.

She wasn’t wearing any make-up, and she was already in danger of arriving late for Mattie’s wedding rehearsal, so she didn’t have time to duck home for damage control. Not that it really mattered; tomorrow was the big day, after all. Not today.

But Will Carruthers would be at the rehearsal.

He was going to be best man at this wedding.

And why, after all this time, should that matter? Her crush on Will was ancient history. Water under the bridge. He was simply an old friend she’d almost lost touch with.

At least that was what she’d told herself for the past three months, ever since Mattie had announced her engagement and wedding plans. But, as she reached the outskirts of town, Lucy’s body, to her annoyance, decided otherwise.

One glimpse of the little white church and the Carruthers family’s elderly truck parked among the other vehicles on the green verge outside and Lucy’s chest squeezed painfully. She felt as if she was breathing through cotton wool and her hands slipped on the steering wheel.

Her heart thumped.

Good grief, this was crazy. She’d known for twelve weeks now that Will would be a member of the wedding party. Why had she waited until the last moment to fall apart?

She parked the ute, dragged in a deep breath and closed her eyes, gave herself a stern lecture. She could do this. She was going to walk inside that little church with an easy stride and a smile on her face. She couldn’t do much about her external appearance, but at least no one need guess she was a mess inside.

She would rather die than let on that she was jealous of Mattie for snaring and marrying a heart-throb like Jake. And she wouldn’t turn the slightest hint of green when she cuddled Gina and Tom’s darling babies.

More importantly, she would greet Will serenely.

She might even drop a light kiss on his cheek. After all, if her plans to marry Will’s brother Josh hadn’t been cruelly shattered, she would have been his sister-in-law.

OK.

She was only a few minutes late so she took a moment to check that her blouse was neatly tucked into her khaki jeans. Her boots were a bit dusty so she hastily wiped them with a tissue. There were no visible signs of the barn yard, thank heavens.

Feeling rather like a soldier going over the top of a trench, she didn’t wait for second thoughts. She dived through the church doorway, cheery smile pinned in place, apologies for her lateness at the ready.

Thud. Will was standing at the end of the aisle, in front of the chancel steps, chatting to Jake.

Surreptitiously, Lucy devoured familiar details—the nut brown sheen of his hair, the outdoor glow on his skin and the creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth, his long legs in faded blue jeans.

As if these weren’t enough to raise her temperature, she saw baby Mia, in a froth of pink, curled sleepily into the crook of Will’s arm.

Heavens, had there ever been a sweeter place for a baby to sleep?

The tiny girl and the big man together made an image that she’d guiltily pictured in her most secret dreams and the sight of them now sucked vital air from her lungs.

Somehow she managed to walk down the aisle.

‘Lucy!’ Mattie called. ‘I was just about to ring you.’

‘I’m sorry I’m late. I was held up with a tricky calving.’ She was surprised she could speak normally when her attention was riveted by Will, not just by how amazing he looked with that tiny pink bundle in his arms, but by the way his head swung abruptly at the sound of her voice and the way he went still and his eyes blazed suddenly.

Lucy felt as if the entire world had stopped, except for the frantic beating of her heart.

Thank heavens no one else seemed to notice.

‘Don’t worry,’ Mattie was telling her calmly. ‘We haven’t been here long. I’ve just been going over the music with the organist.’

Everything was so suddenly normal and relaxed that Lucy was sure she’d misjudged Will’s reaction. He certainly looked mega-cool and calm now as he greeted her. His light touch on her shoulder as he bent to kiss her and the merest brush of his lips on her cheek scalded her, but Will’s grey eyes were perfectly calm.

He even looked mildly amused when he greeted her. ‘Good to see you again, Lucy.’

In a matter of moments the babies were handed over to the minister’s wife and daughter, who cooed and fussed over them in the front pew, while the members of the wedding party were taken through their paces.

Will, as the best man, would partner Gina. Lucy would process with Tom. So that was a relief. At least she didn’t have to link arms and walk down the aisle with Will at the end of tomorrow’s ceremony.

Lucy had been a bridesmaid twice before so she knew the ropes, but the minister wanted to explain every step of the service, and the rehearsal seemed to drag on and on.

On the plus side, she had time to calm down. This wedding was going to be a cinch. Nothing to get in a twist about.

Anyway, it was the height of self-indulgence to keep thinking about herself. Tomorrow was going to be Mattie’s big day. Lucy, along with the entire population of Willowbank, loved warm-hearted, generous Mattie Carey and the whole township would probably turn out to watch her marry the hunky man of her dreams.

Lucy didn’t want a single event or unhappy thought to mar this wedding’s perfection.

Will who?

By the time the rehearsal was over, it was already dark outside, with a fragile fingernail moon hanging above the post office clock. The group dispersed quickly. Gina and Tom wanted to hurry home to get their babies settled. Mattie and Jake had to dash away to a special dinner Mattie’s parents were hosting for assorted members of both families.

And Lucy wanted to hurry home to her ‘boys’, as she affectionately called her dogs. The Irish setter and the border collie enjoyed each other’s company but, if she was away for any length of time, they were always frantic to see her.

She was fishing in her pocket for her car keys when she felt a tap on her elbow. She swung around to find herself trapped by Will Carruthers’s smile, like a startled animal caught in a car’s headlights.

‘I haven’t had a proper chance to say hello,’ he said easily. ‘I wanted to know how you are.’

Lucy gulped. ‘I…I’m fine.’ She was grateful that the darkness disguised the flush in her face, but it took a moment to remember to add, ‘Thanks.’ And, a frantic breath later, ‘How about you, Will?’

‘Not bad.’ He gave her another smile and the skin around his eyes crinkled, then he shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets and stood in front of her with his long legs comfortably apart, shoulders wide. So tall and big he made her shiver.

She managed to ask, ‘Are you still working in Mongolia?’

‘Actually, no.’ There was a slight pause and the tiniest hint of an edgy chuckle. ‘I was there long enough. Decided it’s time for a change, so I’m going to look around for somewhere new.’

The news didn’t surprise Lucy but, after so many years, she’d finally got used to Will’s absence. When he was safely overseas she could almost forget about him. Almost.

Without quite meeting her gaze, Will said, ‘Gina tells me you’ve bought a house.’

Lucy nodded. ‘I bought the old Finnegan place at the end of Wicker Lane.’ She shot him a rueful smile. ‘It’s a renovator’s delight.’

‘Sounds like a challenge.’

‘A huge one.’

He lifted his gaze to meet hers and a glimmer of amusement lingered in his eyes. ‘You were always one for a challenge.’

Lucy wasn’t quite sure what Will meant by this. He might have been referring to the way she’d worked hard at her studies during their long ago friendship at university. Or it could have been a direct reference to the fact that she’d once been engaged to his chick-magnet older brother.

She tried to sound nonchalant. ‘I haven’t managed many renovations on the house yet. But at least there’s plenty of room for my surgery and a nice big yard for the dogs.’

‘How many dogs do you have now?’

She blinked with surprise at his unexpected question. ‘Just the two still.’

‘Seamus and Harry.’

‘That’s right.’

A small silence ticked by and Lucy felt awkward. She knew that if she’d met any other old friend from her schooldays she would have offered an invitation to come back to her place. They could have shared a simple meal—probably pasta and a salad—eating in the kitchen, which she had at least partially renovated.

They could open a bottle of wine, catch up on old times, gossip about everything that had happened in the intervening years.

But her history with this man was too complicated. To start with, she’d never been able to completely snuff out the torch she carried for him, but that wasn’t her only worry. Eight years ago, she’d made the terrible mistake of getting involved with his brother.

This was not the time, however, on the eve of Mattie and Jake’s wedding, to rehash that sad episode.

From the darkness in the tree-lined creek behind the church a curlew’s mournful cry drifted across the night and, almost as if it was a signal, Will took a step back. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘I dare say you won’t be able to avoid it.’

Heavens, why had she said that? It sounded churlish. To make up for the gaffe, Lucy said quickly before he could leave, ‘I’m so happy for Mattie. Jake seems like a really nice guy.’

‘He’s terrific,’ Will agreed. ‘And I’ll have to hand it to Mattie. She succeeded in winning him when many others have failed.’

‘Jake obviously adores her.’

‘Oh, yeah, he’s totally smitten.’ Will looked suddenly uncomfortable and his shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug.

Lucy suspected this conversation was getting sticky for both of them.

‘It’s getting late,’ she said gently. ‘You’d better go. Your mother will have dinner waiting.’

He chuckled. ‘That sounds like something from the dim dark ages when we were at high school.’

‘Sorry,’ she said, but he had already turned and was walking towards the truck.

He opened the squeaky door, then turned again and they both exchanged a brief wave before they climbed into their respective vehicles.

Lucy heard the elderly truck’s motor rise in a harsh rev, then die down into a throaty lumbering growl. Will backed out of the parking spot and drove down the street and as she turned the key in her ute’s ignition, she watched the truck’s twin red tail lights growing smaller.

She remembered the times she’d driven with Will in that old truck of his father’s, bumping over paddocks or down rough country lanes. Together they’d gone fossicking for sapphires, hunting for specks of gold down in the creek. At other times she’d urged him to help her to search for a new sub-species of fish.

They’d been great mates back then, but those days when Lucy had first moved to Willowbank with her dad after her parents’ messy divorce felt like so very long ago now.

She had been sixteen and it was a horrible time, when she was angry with everyone. She’d been angry with her mother for falling in love with her boss, angry with her dad for somehow allowing it to happen, and angry with both of them for letting their marriage disintegrate in a heartbeat.

Most of all Lucy had been angry that she’d had to move away from Sydney to Willowbank. She’d hated leaving her old school and her friends to vegetate in a docile country town.

But then she’d met Will, along with Gina, Tom and Mattie and she’d soon been absorbed into a happy circle of friends who’d proved that life in the country could be every bit as good as life in the city.

OK, maybe her love of Willowbank had a lot to do with her feelings for Will, but at least she’d never let on how much she’d adored him. Instead, she’d waited patiently for him to realise that he loved her. When he took too long she’d taken matters into her own hands and it had all gone horribly wrong.

But it was so, so unhelpful to be thinking about that now.

Even so, Lucy was fighting tears as she reversed the ute. And, as she drove out of town, she was bombarded by bittersweet, lonely memories.

CHAPTER TWO

THE impact of the explosion sent Will flying, tossed him like a child’s rag toy and dumped him hard. He woke with his heart thudding, his nerves screaming as he gripped at the bed sheets.

Bed sheets?

At first he couldn’t think how he’d arrived back in the bedroom of his schooldays, but then he slowly made sense of his surroundings.

He was no longer in Mongolia.

He was safe.

He wished it had all been a nightmare, but it was unfortunately true. He’d been conducting a prospecting inspection of an old abandoned mine when it had blown without warning. By some kind of miracle he’d escaped serious injury, but his two good friends were dead.

That was the savage reality. He’d been to the funerals of both Barney and Keith—one in Brisbane and the other in Ottawa.

He’d been to hell and back sitting in those separate chapels, listening to heartbreaking eulogies and wondering why he’d been spared when his friends had so not deserved to die.

And yet here he was, home at Tambaroora…

Where nothing had changed…

Squinting in the shuttered moonlight, Will could see the bookshelf that still held his old school textbooks. His swimming trophies lined the shelf above the bed, and he knew without looking that the first geological specimens he’d collected were in a small glass case on the desk beneath the window.

Even the photo of him with his brother, Josh, was still there on the dresser. It showed Will squashed onto a pathetic little tricycle that he was clearly too big for, while Josh looked tall and grown-up on his first two-wheeler bike.

Will rolled over so he couldn’t see the image. He didn’t want to be reminded that his brother had beaten him to just about everything that was important in his life. It hadn’t been enough for Josh Carruthers to monopolise their father’s affection, he’d laid first claim on Tambaroora and he’d won the heart of Will’s best friend.

That might have been OK if Josh had taken good care of Lucy.

An involuntary sigh whispered from Will’s lips.

Lucy.

Seeing her again tonight had unsettled him on all kinds of levels.

When he closed his eyes he could see the silvery-white gleam of moonlight on her hair as they’d stood outside the church. He could hear the familiar soft lilt in her voice.

Damn it. He’d wanted to tell her about the accident. He needed to talk about it.

He hadn’t told his family because he knew it would upset his mother. Jessie Carruthers had already lost one son and she didn’t need the news of her surviving son’s brush with death.

Will could have talked to Jake, of course. They’d worked together in Mongolia and Jake would have understood how upset he was, but he hadn’t wanted to throw a wet blanket on the eve of his mate’s wedding.

No, Lucy was the one person he would have liked to talk to. In the past, they’d often talked long into the night. As students they’d loved deep and meaningful discussions.

Yes, he could have told Lucy what he’d learned at those funerals.

But it was probably foolish to think he could resurrect the closeness they’d enjoyed as students.

After all this time, they’d both changed.

Hell, was it really eight years? He could still feel the shock of that December day when he’d been skiing in Norway and he’d received the news that Lucy and his brother were engaged to be married. He’d jumped on the first plane home.

With a groan, Will flung aside the sheet and swung out of bed, desperate to throw off the memories and the sickening guilt and anger that always accompanied his thoughts of that terrible summer.

But, with the benefit of hindsight, Will knew he’d been unreasonably angry with Josh for moving in on his best friend while his back was turned. He’d had no claim on Lucy. She’d never been his girlfriend. He’d gone overseas with Cara Howard and, although their relationship hadn’t lasted, he’d allowed himself to be distracted by new sights, new people, new adventures.

He’d let life take him by the hand, happy to go with the flow, finding it easier than settling down.

The news that Josh was going to marry Lucy shouldn’t have upset him, but perhaps he might have coped more easily if Lucy had chosen to marry a stranger. As it was, he’d never been able to shake off the feeling that Josh had moved in on her just to prove to his little brother that he could have whatever he desired.

Unfortunately, Will had chosen the very worst time to have it out with Josh.

He would never, to the end of his days, forget the early morning argument at the airfield, or Josh’s stubbornness, or the sight of that tiny plane tumbling out of the sky like an autumn leaf.

If only that had been the worst of it, but it was Gina who’d told him that the shock of Josh’s death had caused Lucy to have a miscarriage.

A miscarriage?

Will had been plagued by endless questions—questions he’d had no right to ask. Which had come first—the engagement or the pregnancy? Had Josh truly loved Lucy?

A week after the funeral he’d tried to speak to her, but Dr McKenty had been fiercely protective of his daughter and he’d turned Will away.

So the only certainties that he’d been left with were Josh’s death and Lucy’s loss, and he’d found it pitifully easy to take the blame for both.

To make amends, he’d actually tried to stay on at Tambaroora after Josh’s death. But he couldn’t replace Josh in his father’s eyes and he’d soon known that he didn’t fit in any more. He was a piece from a flashy foreign jigsaw trying to fit into a homemade puzzle.

For Will, it had made sense to leave again and to stay away longer. In time, he’d trained himself to stop dwelling on the worst of it. But of course he couldn’t stay away from his home and family for ever and there were always going to be times, like now, when everything came back to haunt him.

Lucy dreamed about Will.

In her dream they were back at Sydney University and they’d met in the refectory for coffee and to compare notes after a chemistry practical.

It was an incredibly simple but companionable scene. She and Will had always enjoyed hanging out together, and in her dream they were sitting at one of the little tables overlooking the courtyard, chatting and smiling and discussing the results of their latest experiments.

When it was time to leave for separate lectures, Lucy announced calmly, as if it was a normal extension of their everyday conversation, ‘Oh, by the way, Will, I’m pregnant.’

Will’s face broke into a beautiful smile and he drew her into his arms and hugged her, and Lucy knew that her pregnancy was the perfect and natural expression of their love.

She felt the special protection of his arms about her and she was filled with a sense of perfect happiness, of well-being, of everything being right in her world.

When she woke, she lay very still with her eyes closed, lingering for as long as she could in the happy afterglow of the dream, clinging to the impossible fantasy that she was pregnant.

Better than that, she was pregnant with Will’s baby. Not his brother’s…

The dream began to fade and she could no longer ignore the fact that morning sunlight was pulsing on the other side of her closed eyelids.

Reality reared its unwelcome head.

Damn.

Not that dream again. How stupid.

Actually, it was more like a recurring nightmare, so far divorced from Lucy’s real life that she always felt sick when she woke. She hated to think that her subconscious could still, after all this time, play such cruel tricks on her.

In truth, she’d never been brave enough to let her friendship with Will progress into anything deeper. At university, she’d seen all the other girls who’d fallen for him. She’d watched Will date them for a while and then move on, and she’d decided it was safer to simply be his buddy. His friend.

As his girlfriend she’d risk losing him and she couldn’t have coped with that. If they remained good friends, she could keep him for ever.

Or so she’d thought.

The plan had serious flaws, of course, which was no doubt why she was still plagued far too often by the dream.

But now, as Lucy opened her eyes, she knew it was time to wake up to more important realities. This wasn’t just any morning. It was Mattie’s wedding day.

This was a day for hair appointments and manicures, helping Mattie to dress and smiling for photographs. This was to be her friend’s perfect day.

Get over it, Lucy.

Get over yourself.

Stifling a lingering twinge of longing for the dream, she threw off the bedclothes, went to the window and looked out. It was a beautiful day, cloudless and filled with sunshine. She smiled.

No more useless longings. No more doleful thoughts.

Surely clear blue skies were a very promising omen?

In Willowbank everyone was abuzz.

With the help of friends and relatives from around the district, Mattie’s mum had grown masses of white petunias in pots and tubs and even in wheelbarrows.

Lucy happily helped a team of women to unload containers of flowers from their cars and place them strategically in the church and the grounds, as well as the marquee where the reception was to be held in an allotment next to the church hall. The instant floral effect was spectacular.

After that, the morning passed in a happy whirl, much to Lucy’s relief. First, she met up with Mattie and Gina at the hairdresser’s, then they popped into the salon next door for matching manicures, and finally they dashed back to Mattie’s for a delicious light lunch prepared by one of her doting aunts.

During lunch the phone seemed never to stop ringing and all kinds of messages flew back and forth. Gina’s mum, who was babysitting the twins, reported that they’d been fed and burped and were sleeping beautifully. Nurses from the Sydney hospital where the babies had been born rang to wish Mattie and Jake all the best for married life. The caterer had a question about the positioning of the wedding cake on the main table.

Lucy had to admire the way Mattie seemed to float through it all. She was the most serene bride ever. Nothing bothered her or was too much trouble. Mattie had always been sweet and easygoing, but she’d never been as blissfully relaxed and happy and confident as she was today.

It must be love, Lucy thought, and she wished it was contagious.

Shortly after lunch, the excitement really began. Refrigerated boxes arrived from the florist, filled with truly gorgeous bouquets. Then it was time for the girls to put on their make-up, laughing as they took turns in front of Mattie’s bedroom mirror, the same mirror where years ago they had first experimented with mascara and eyeliner while they’d gossiped about boys.

Back then, Lucy, being older and from the city, had been considered to be wiser and worldlier. The other girls had looked up to her with undisguised respect and considerable awe.

How the tables had turned. Now Gina was married and a mother, and Mattie was about to marry Jake, while Lucy was…

No! She wasn’t going to tolerate a single negative thought today.

When they’d achieved their best with makeup, Gina and Lucy slipped into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which were simply divine. The palest pink duchess satin looked equally pretty on Gina with her dark hair and olive complexion as it did on Lucy, who was blonde and fair-skinned.

Then it was time to fuss over Mattie, to fasten the dozens of tiny satin-covered buttons down her back, to help to secure her veil and then to gasp in sheer astonishment when they saw the completed picture of their best friend in her wedding gown.

‘You look absolutely breathtaking,’ Lucy whispered.

Gina was emotional. ‘You’re so beautiful Jake’s going to cry when he sees you.’

‘Please don’t say that.’ Mattie laughed nervously. ‘You’ll make me cry.’

‘And me,’ moaned Lucy.

Already, at the mere thought of an emotional bridegroom, she could feel mascara-threatening tears about to spill.

Oh, help. Weddings were such poignant affairs. And today Will was going to be there, looking dashing as the best man. How on earth was she going to get through the next few hours?

Dressed in matching dark formal suits with silver ties and orange blossoms in their lapels, Jake, Will and Tom were ushered into the minuscule vestry and instructed to wait till it was time to take their places at the front of the church.

Will anxiously patted a pocket in his suit jacket. ‘The rings are still safe.’

Jake grinned and laid a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘That’s the third time you’ve checked the rings in the past five minutes. Relax, man, they’re not going to grow legs and run away.’

‘Jake’s the guy who’s supposed to be nervous,’ added Tom with a grin.

Will nodded and tried to smile. ‘Sorry. Don’t know what’s got into me.’ He shot Jake a questioning glance. ‘Aren’t you even a little nervous?’

‘Why should I be nervous?’

‘You’re getting married.’ Will wished his voice wasn’t so hoarse. His sleepless night was really getting to him. ‘It’s par for the course for a bridegroom to have the jitters,’ he said.

‘But I’m marrying Mattie,’ Jake responded simply, as if that explained everything. And his glowing smile made it patently clear that he knew, without doubt, he was the luckiest man alive.

Will wished he felt a fraction of his mate’s happiness.

‘So where are you heading for your honeymoon?’ he asked. ‘Or is that a state secret?’

Jake grinned. ‘The exact location is a surprise for Mattie, but I’ll tell you two.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m taking her to Italy. She’s never been overseas, so we’re going to Venice, Lake Como and the Amalfi Coast.’

‘Wow!’ Tom’s jaw dropped. ‘That’s so over the top it’s fabulous. You’ll have an amazing time.’

Jake nodded happily but, before he could say anything else, the minister appeared at the vestry door and sent them a smiling wink. ‘Could you come this way now please, gentlemen?’

A chill ran down Will’s spine. For crying out loud, what was the matter with him today? Anyone would think he was the one getting married, or that they were criminals being led to the dock.

‘All the best, mate,’ he whispered gruffly to Jake.

‘Thanks.’

The two friends shook hands, then headed through the little doorway that led into the church, where an incredible transformation had occurred.

Not only was the place packed to the rafters with people dressed in their best finery, but there were flowers and white ribbons everywhere—dangling from the ends of pews, wound around columns, adorning windowsills and filling vases, large and small.

And there was organ music, billowing and rippling like the background music in a sentimental movie. Will tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Why was it that weddings were designed to zero straight in on unsuspecting emotions?

He glanced at Jake and saw his Adam’s apple jerk.

‘You OK?’ he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

‘I’ll be fine once Mattie gets here.’

‘She won’t be late,’ Will reassured him and again he nervously patted the rings in his pocket.

There was a flurry in the little porch at the back of the church and, as if everyone had been choreographed, the congregation turned. Will felt fine hairs lift on the back of his neck. His stomach tightened.

The girls appeared in a misty mirage of white and pink. Will blinked. Lucy, Gina and Mattie looked incredibly out-of-this-world beautiful in long feminine dresses and glamorous hairstyles, and with their arms filled with flowers.

He heard Jake catch his breath, felt goose-bumps lift on his arms.

The organist struck a dramatic chord.

Lucy and Gina, apparently satisfied with their arrangement of Mattie’s dress and veil, took their places in front of her, Lucy first.

Will couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t trembling.

Lucy stood, shoulders back, looking straight ahead, with her blonde head high, her blue eyes smiling. To Will she looked vulnerable and yet resolute and his heart began to thunder loudly.

It was so weird.

He’d seen countless weddings and endless processions of bridesmaids, but none of them had made him feel the way he felt now as the organist began to play and Lucy began to walk down the aisle with her smile carefully in place.

She’d always tried to pretend she was a tomboy, keeping her hair short and wispy and preferring to live in T-shirts and jeans, but today nothing could hide her femininity.

Her pastel off-the-shoulders dress and the soft pink lilies in her arms highlighted the paleness of her hair, the honey-gold tints in her skin, the pink lushness of her lips. She had never looked lovelier.

Except perhaps…that one night on a shadowy veranda, when she’d turned to him with tears in her eyes…

He willed her to look at him. Just one glance would do. For old friendship’s sake. He wanted eye contact, needed to send her one smile, longed for one tiny link with her.

Come on, look this way, Lucy.

She smiled at the people in the congregation, at her particular friends, at Jake, but her gaze didn’t flicker any further to the right. It was clear she did not want to see Will.

Or, perhaps, she simply felt no need.

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