Page 6 of Return to the Waratah Inn

“That’s right.” She nodded at him encouragingly. “You’re his great-grandfather. It seemed fitting. And I know Nan would’ve approved.”

He grinned, tears spilling onto his cheeks. Then he dashed them away with the back of his hand. “She would’ve liked that. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, Katie.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to squash you.”

“I’m a little tender,” she admitted.

Mima turned to kiss her on the cheek. “That was a lovely thing you just did,” she whispered into Kate’s ear. Her eyes were red-rimmed as well.

“He deserves it,” Kate replied.

Mima and Jack crept out of the room, but Kate hardly heard them leave. Already her eyes had drifted shut. She fell to sleep moments after they were gone, her heart full and her body exhausted.

Chapter Four

January 1998

Cabarita Beach

The next day, Nyreeda Houston sat alone in her large beachfront house in Kingscliff. Tall bay windows looked out over the sparkling and crystal-clear waters of Cudgeon Creek and beyond to the Pacific Ocean. The house perched on top of Kingscliff Hill, with an uninterrupted vista that was best seen from the back deck. The sky was cerulean, with no trace of clouds to mar the depth of blue painted across the heavens. A light breeze ruffled the chartreuse leaves of the enormous jacaranda that presided majestically beside the deck. Reeda sat on her couch watching it all with a mug of coffee between her hands.

It felt so strange to be an auntie. She’d spent a little time at the hospital with Kate and Alex the previous day. As she held baby Noah in her arms, she’d felt a love she’d never experienced before, and it’d made her throat ache with unshed tears of joy. There was a fierceness to her love that she couldn’t explain, she’d do anything for him—protect him, take care of him, and always have a place in her life and heart for him. And the ache only grew when she realised she may never have that for herself, a child of her own. But now she had a nephew, and maybe that would be enough.

On the table in front of her were an empty photo album and a stack of envelopes filled with photos of her trip to Italy that she’d had developed. She set the coffee cup down and leaned forward to peruse through the photos. Every image contained a memory—Rome and the Colosseum. The Spanish Steps and the Vatican. The hotel where she’d stayed, and the delicious food she’d eaten. Lorenzo and his motorised scooter.

She picked up a photograph of Lorenzo. His brown eyes squinted against the sunshine, his full lips pulled into a wide smile as he stood beside the scooter. They’d travelled to Sulmona together to search for the cold trail her grandfather, Charlie Jackson, had left behind when his plane was shot down during the Second World War.

With the photo album open, she pushed photographs across the table, arranging them in order of date and location. Then she began to place them into the slots in the album one by one. An image stood out to her—in it, she wore a black apron around her waist, her hair flowed freely with soft, wispy curls, and she glowed with a tan. On the stove, she mixed something with a wooden spoon in a large pot. Beside her, Signora Rossi offered a solemn expression in her black dress and sensible shoes. Her daughter Angela wore a soft cotton floral dress, her long brown hair flung over one shoulder and a grin lighting up her pretty face.

Reeda held the photograph in one hand and leaned back on the couch to study it, a smile playing across her lips. She remembered this moment like it was yesterday—it’d been a turning point for her, staying with these women in Pacentro. She’d found herself, her peace, her joy, the meaning she’d been looking for while at their small bed-and-breakfast. She’d walked the hills, eaten good Italian food and talked together with both of them on the back deck into the wee hours.

After she left Italy, Lorenzo had asked Angela on a date, and the two of them were getting married soon. They’d invited Reeda to the wedding, but she’d declined. She wanted to be here for Kate, but she was happy for the two of them. They’d both been broken-hearted and alone, but now they had one another. And Reeda had played a small role in bringing them together.

By the time she’d filled the pages of the photo album completely, she heard the garage door whir up. The growl of Duncan’s Porsche pulling into the garage made her heart leap in her chest. He’d been away for two weeks, working with Médecins Sans Frontières in Sierra Leone. The civil war there had produced so many casualties, they couldn’t keep up with the demand for doctors. And even though she knew her husband was helping people, she couldn’t help worrying about him while he was gone.

She jumped to her feet and ran to meet him at the door, stopping at a mirror in the hallway to adjust her flyaway hair. She’d straightened it that morning, and it hung in a long, sleek bob around her pale face. She smoothed it down and then hurried to meet him.

When he opened the door that led to the garage, tugging his luggage behind him, she launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck and almost knocking him off his feet.

He guffawed and dropped the suitcase to embrace her, his chestnut curls tickling her cheek.

“You’re home,” she said.

He kissed her softly. “I made it, finally. It was a long trip. Two busses and four flights. I’ve been travelling for four days straight. I need a shower, badly. I’ve never been so happy to be home.”

She kissed him all over his face, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “I was so worried about you.”

“Well, I’m back now. And I won’t be going anywhere for a while. It’s become too dangerous where we were, and they’ve pulled out all the medical staff. At least for now.”

Reeda hated to think of Duncan in danger, but he was back, and that was all that mattered. She followed him into the bedroom, where he sat to take off his shoes.

“Kate had her baby. A little boy. They called him Noah Alexander.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s great news. How is she?”

“She’s well. They’re still in the hospital, but they’ll be home later today. She gave birth at the inn. Mima helped.”

“Mima would’ve been in her element.”

Reeda sat beside him on the blanket box at the foot of their bed. “I’ve been thinking…”