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“Oh. Fine.” She made a pouty face and then smiled.
He added her ability to laugh at herself to the list of things he liked about her as he hopped out of the ute and went around to Lena’s side. When he pulled open the door for her, she was ready, her hand on his arm the instant her feet were on the ground. “Thank you for that, Grinch Guy.” She opened the back and put a lead on Copper before letting the dog out. Then together they headed for the farmhouse.
As soon as they were within earshot, the man on the porch called out. “G’day! I’m Hunter Sullivan. You must be Heath?”
“That’s right.” He didn’t want Hunter’s attention to be on him. They were here for Lena. “This is Abilene Snowden, the horse trainer I was telling you about.” Lena’s eyes shot to their corners, giving him side-eye, but he did his best to ignore her.
“Pleased to meet you both.” There were handshakes all around, and then Hunter turned to Heath. “You bought Diggers Cottage, didn’t you? Haven’t seen you much in town.”
“Yeah, moved in early August. Like the peace and quiet out here.” Maybe Hunter was just a friendly bloke, but Heath didn’t need friends, no matter what he’d toasted to with Lena. He was better on his own. He didn’t need to become a topic for any town gossip—that was one downside to small towns: the way everybody knew everybody else’s business.
“You ex-military?”
“Yeah. Served in Iraq and Syria.” It was the same thing he’d told Lena, a few days ago. Usually offering the barest of details worked to keep people at a distance. It was safer that way. For everyone. Though it hadn’t worked with Lena. She somehow managed to drag him back out of his shell, every time he tried to retreat. It wasn’t working with Hunter, either.
“Ah. You have that way about you. You met the blokes in the Returned Services League yet?”
“Nah.” His doctor had suggested joining the RSL too. Said it would help, being with blokes who understood. Except groups weren’t his thing. The therapy he was doing was bad enough.
“I’m sure they’d be happy to add you to their roster, especially with the Christmas Eve picnic coming up. They’ll be needing volunteers, I’m sure. My sister”—he flicked a glance at Lena—“her name’s Ali. She says you do some woodworking?” The man was tenacious, Heath would give him that much.
“That’s right.”
Hunter waited for him to say more, but when he didn’t offer any more information, Hunter took the hint and honed in on Lena instead. “Now, Heath tells me you’re looking for a facility to train horses out of?”
“Um, well. Yeah, I guess so?” Lena sounded uncertain and Heath could’ve kicked himself for not prepping her better. “My plans are a bit up in the air at the moment, but I uh… I was a jockey and exercise rider back home. I moved here recently from the States and was hoping to expand my operation a bit, take some horses in training, that kind of thing.”
“You talked to the McKenna women yet, over at Blue Orchard Park? They’ve got a big interest in the racing business themselves, and Hannah trains Thoroughbreds, if that’s what you’re into. Or there’s Alex Bentley, who owns the Polo Stud Farm. Or the Walkers? Marshall and Joy? They own Bellevue Stables, just down the road. You’ll love Joy. Everyone does.”
“No. I really only got here—to Bindarra Creek—a couple days ago.”
“Well, if you’re serious about horses in Bindarra Creek, you’ll want to get to know all of them. There’s even a syndicate in town, owns their own horse, that Hannah McKenna trains.”
“Oh, really? That’s good to know. I’ll have to look the McKennas up for sure. Thank you.”
“Shall we take a look around?” Hunter turned and headed towards the house.
Lena hung back a few strides, and took Heath’s arm. Damn if her touch didn’t send a ripple of pleasure through him, and a rush of blood straight to his crotch. She gave a little tug on his arm, bringing his attention back to her, in the present, instead of her in his bed. “Heath Fletcher, what are you up to? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
His stomach dropped. His plan wasn’t supposed to be so transparent. He’d set it all in motion before he’d brought the Christmas tree home, before they’d— He panicked. He needed to backpedal. Fast. “No, I…” He couldn’t think of the right thing to say. Too late he recognised the teasing in her tone. As he stared at her, the bright twinkle in her playfully narrowed gaze turned to something he hated seeing. Doubt that turned into hurt.
He’d thought she’d see the appointment with Hunter Sullivan as a nice gesture, as him helping her go after her dream. Which he was. Instead, she’d seen what he was trying to do through a completely different lens—and she wasn’t wrong, even if she wasn’t right, either.
“Oh my God. You are.”
He wasn’t. That’s what he should say, especially if he wanted more than just the one night with her, which he did. Another night, he’d told himself. Just one. But what sprang out of his mouth were excuses and explanations.
“You said the other day you could do a lot with a place like this. I thought you needed your own—It’s not like we can keep—”
“Are you two lovebirds coming?” Hunter Sullivan was on the porch, holding the front door wide.
Lena pulled her arm away from Heath’s and hurried forwards. He ran his hands over his face. He’d been trying to do the right thing— for himself and for Lena. But he’d screwed it up, just like he always did.
“Now as Heathprobably told you, Lena, I represent the owners of this property, the Gills. They’ve been pretty hands off, as you can see. Death in the family, oh, must be four or five years ago now, and none of the relatives live locally anymore, none of them interested in farming or the like. They weren’t ready to let the place go yet, but I keep telling Anthony it’s a waste to keep letting it sit.”
“I have to agree with you there.” Lena shot Heath a look that was half glare, half ‘help me out, here.’ But she was doing fine on her own.
Which was exactly how it needed to be. If she was going to stay in Bindarra Creek, she needed to make her own life, meet people in the community. That much was clear. He wasn’t going to be able to give her that. Whatever they’d shared the night before, he couldn’t have her relying on him. He couldn’t even manage one surprise without getting it wrong—not a Christmas tree, not the appointment with Hunter. If she stuck around long enough, he’d only disappoint her more and let her down. No need to keep repeating the mistake.
