Page 120 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘Isn’t it spectacular?’ an excited Paula said, raising her voice over the noise as she sidled up beside Rowena.

Rowena nodded. ‘Spectacular,’ she murmured, the fireworks suddenly blurring in front of her as her eyes filled with tears and her throat grew thick.

It was, objectively, spectacular. But not as spectacular as sitting in the bath at the bunkhouse, looking out over the landscape as the golden haze of late afternoon settled over the wattle trees and Mitchell grass. Not as spectacular as the stars over the Acacia Junction drive-in. Not as spectacular as morning dew clinging like diamonds to the tips of gum leaves, and the dawn chorus of cockatoos and bagpipes.

Not as spectacular as a man in jeans and flannel and boots, an Akubra on his head, walking to the house from the back paddock with a blue dog at his heels and a smile on his face, looking at her like she was the best part of his day.

You’re allowed.

Well … shit. Rowena clutched the railing with one hand and her belly with the other, as a hot trail of bile burned in her gut. She was in love with Lachlan McCabe. And she was hundreds of bloody kilometres away from him, trying to prove to herself and everyone else that she was okay, when she wasn’t okay because she’d left her whole heart behind at Blairgowrie.

She’d been an absolute fool trying to compartmentalise things where he was concerned. To not think emotionally but practically, logistically. To think like a thirty-six-year-old woman unexpectedly pregnant to a guy she’d known for six months. To think about the baby and how they’d manage a potential long-distance co-parenting situation.

She’d sheared off the box marked feelings and locked it away because it was the enemy of practicality. But her heart was cracking wide open now as all her barriers came crashing down, leaving her with the plain, glaring truth.

She was in love with Lachlan McCabe. And he loved her and they were having a baby and he was just too damn far away.

Blinking back tears that were turning fireworks into neon rain, she knew she had to go to him. And if it’d been daylight, she would have left immediately. But it wasn’t.

So, first thing in the morning it was …

Thirty

It was two in the afternoon when Rowena pulled into Silvano’s patisserie the next day. She hadn’t planned on stopping because she’s assumed it would be closed, like almost everything else in Acacia Junction on the first of January, but the doors had been wide open as usual and Rowena had taken it as a good sign.

She’d left Sydney a bit before six am and only taken two brief pit stops along the way. She was, consequently, exceptionally tired, but rallied the second she saw Silvano behind the counter.

‘Ro?’

He broke into a broad grin as she entered the shop and, for the first time since the balcony last night, she relaxed. She’d been trepidatious about the town’s reaction to her being back after skipping out on them, but Silvano, at least, greeted her with open arms.

Literally.

Coming from behind the counter, he embraced her. He’d lost thirty kilos since that fateful day out on the highway into town, but his hugs were still as big as his personality.

It was hard to believe six months ago she hadn’t known this man at all, and yet here they were—inextricably bound.

‘Are you back for good?’ he asked as he released her, searching her gaze.

Rowena saw reproach in his eyes for the first time and her cheeks burned. She deserved to be called out on running away with Reggie not long in the ground, even if it had seemed the most logical thing to do at the time.

‘Yes.’

There’d been a lot of time to think last night and today as the kilometres had flicked by. She’d decided that even if Lachlan rejected her because of her freak-out over his declaration of love, she was moving to Acacia Junction anyway.

She’d loved working at the hospital, and it would be a lot easier to co-parent when he was only fifteen minutes away.

‘Good.’ He nodded then moved back behind the counter. ‘Now to feed you. What takes your fancy?’

‘Cannoli, of course.’

‘Excellent choice,’ Silvano said as he grabbed the tongs. ‘Two for you, one for the baby?’

Rowena laughed. ‘One for me. One for the baby,’ she conceded, which earned an ear-splitting grin. ‘And one for Lachlan.’

‘Ah. Yes.’ His nod of approval meant the world.

*