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She approached him warily, conscious of not intruding on whatever occupied his mind as he stared out over the surrounding countryside. There was something possessive about the way he surveyed the view. Shivering, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. The clouds were thickening and a chill breeze swirled around, picking up dead leaves. The smell of ozone sharpened as she sucked frigid air into her lungs.
Xander glanced at her and his brows drew together. “Are you cold?”
“A bit. Not too bad.”
Without hesitation, he peeled off his plaid coat and draped it over her shoulders.
She could smell his soap on the collar as he tucked her arms into the sleeves. “Won’t you be cold?”
“I’ve still got three layers on. I’ll be fine.”
He turned back to stare at the view, marking an end to the discussion. Bonnie redirected her gaze and took in the expanse of country for the first time. “Is that the town?”
Even as she spoke, the clouds shifted and a beam of light illuminated the post office tower. It only lasted a moment, the cloud cover closing up, the light fading as she watched.
“Is this your block of land?”
“Yes.”
“And Briar used the money for the farm?”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t take it any other way.”
Bonnie’s heart warmed, despite the increasing cold. He really did try and look out for people he cared about. She hadn’t realised he had such a strong connection with Briar. “What will you do with it?”
“I was thinking about building a place here. A retreat, maybe a recording studio. There’s plenty of room. We left a fair bit of bush around the clearing. It’s a bit over four hectares. Ten acres.”
“Will you do it now you’re home more or less permanently?”
His eyes flickered and he turned slightly to look at her. “What do you think? Is it a good plan?”
Bonnie waved at the view. “It’s fabulous. Anyone would want to live here.”
“Would you?” He hunched his shoulders. “Forget that question.”
She wanted to answer it, but he wouldn’t want to hear. Not after her pushing him away all these years. “What about access? You wouldn’t want to be coming through the Appleton farm all the time. I guess it would be a pain for Briar if you had random visitors.”
His arm extended to point down the slope to where a glint of water showed through the trees. “There’s an easement right along the end of Briar’s place, where it meets the river. I have right of entry, so long as I don’t cut off his access to the water. All I need is a bulldozer to make a track.”
“You thought of everything.”
“We had Trey draw up all the legal agreements. Good fences make good neighbours.” He grinned in self-deprecation at the platitude.
“I don’t understand. You never mentioned wanting a place of your own.”
“I guess it grew on me. All those years I was never in one place long enough to establish a home. At first I didn’t want to come back here.”
“Because of the bad memories?”
“Partly. I thought in terms of Nashville or Vancouver. Even Hollywood or New York. Somewhere in the centre of the action. North America is our biggest audience so it made sense. Now I crave privacy.”
“Can’t you find it in those places? You could afford to buy somewhere in an enclave for big names. Some stars have a ranch somewhere away from everywhere.”
“It’s funny, I don’t feel like a star. Inside I’m still little Alex MacDonald of Kurrajong Crossing. I tried so hard to escape him. Now I want to be him. I couldn’t go anywhere in the US without security. Everyone wants a piece of you, so you’re always on show. At least here, most of the locals aren’t rabid fans. To them I’m still Flo and Don’s grandson who did okay playing his little songs.”
“More than okay.”
His trademark smile switched on. “I’m a curiosity. Even at the B&B I’m still on show to some extent. The guests see the little shrine set up with all my magazine covers and awards, and when they spot me I have to do the Xander Mac thing. It’s not that I don’t want to be there with my grandparents for short stretches.”
