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Caring.
Protective.
That was it; he felt protective of her. Protective was far better than attracted…
And if he found a new girlfriend…
Wasn’t there a new female assistant manager at one of the banks?
Hadn’t he heard that somewhere?
Plus, if he could get Emma hooked up with someone else, that would be even better. It would remove her from all consideration in the most positive way.
His mind began listing eligible single men—well, eligible men rather presumed their single status…
Rob Armstrong would be good. Marty had heard Rob had been in hospital recently and although he had a bit of trouble with atrial fibrillation, it responded to treatment.
But did it weaken his heart?
Ned had told him about Emma’s husband—about his sudden death from cancer six years earlier. Could she handle losing another husband who might die before his time?
And just why, if he wasn’t attracted to her, did the unspoken word ‘husband’ cause constriction in his chest?
He’d scrap Rob, but there was that new bloke on a cattle property further west—rich family sending junior to learn the ropes on one of their smaller properties.
Marty had done a bit of heli-mustering for him. He could drop in and mention the barn dance.
Better yet, he could phone the bloke, ask if they could do their practice lifts out of one of the gullies on his property. Most of his cattle were in the back country so they shouldn’t be disturbed. He’d get the bloke—what was his name?—to act as the patient and have Emma do the lift. Clinging together at the end of the wire, who knew what chemistry might happen…?
Shane—his name was Shane.
Marty’s old vehicle lacked Bluetooth so he pulled over to the side of the road and checked the contacts in his phone. Best to do it right now.
Before he forgot.
Or changed his mind…
* * *
Hiding the dread in her heart at the thought of the winch training session, Emma went in search of her father, finding him digging in the old vegetable garden out the back.
‘Did you really have a good time today?’ he asked shrewdly, and she smiled.
‘Well, the boys did but I rather think Joss had been doing a bit of unsubtle match-making. A friend of hers, an engineer at the local council who’d been in hospital earlier in the week, also called in and it seemed a long way out of town for just a casual visit.’
‘Nice bloke?’ her father asked, so casually Emma had to smile.
‘Nice enough,’ she said, ‘but that’s all. Besides which, he’s a patient.’
She sighed, and sat down on a corner stump that held the sleepers for the raised beds in place.
‘Simon was so special, Dad, it’s hard to get interested in someone else.’
Laughing blue eyes notwithstanding, she added silently.
‘Do you ever think that Simon might have been so special because you had so little time together? Your marriage was still fresh and wonderful; still full of new experiences like getting to know each other, sharing tales about your lives, making plans for the future, and building dreams together.’
Emma looked at the man who’d left the work he’d loved at fifty so he could be with her during the weeks before Simon’s death. Just there, in the background—ready to support her when she needed it and to hold her when the knowledge that she was losing Simon became too much to bear.
Been there, too, for the extra sadness that had followed it but she pushed that thought away, not wanting to remember her emotional and physical collapse.
He’d done some supply teaching when she’d returned to work, but he’d been there for her whenever she’d needed him, needed someone to comfort her—to just be there…
‘I don’t know, Dad,’ she said, finally coming around to considering his question. ‘You might be right. But I do know I’ll never love like that again.’
Her father kept on digging, and a cry from the house told her one of the boys was awake—and no doubt intent on waking his brother.
‘I’ll go. And I know I’ve said I’ll be on deck for the kids at weekends, but I’m afraid I’ve got a winch training session tomorrow. We’re starting early so hopefully I’ll be home for lunch. Did you have anything planned?’
‘Nothing I can’t do with the boys. Carrie asked us all up for lunch so I’ll go on ahead and you can join us if you get home in time. I’ve got the address in the house. Will give it to you later.’
Which kind of finished that conversation.
But was Dad right?
Had her marriage been so special—her love so strong—because it had been cut short?
Because they hadn’t had time to grow niggly with each other over squeezed toothpaste tubes—although Simon had always been practically fanatical about squeezing from the bottom, whereas she just squeezed from wherever got the toothpaste out the quickest.
