Scotty, meanwhile, had jumped from fling to fling while tearing himself up over a woman he’d loved and lost. Now he was a week away from marrying another woman – one he didn’t love.
‘How do you do it, Chris? This life business. I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing,’ Scotty said.
Chris twisted the tops from the beer bottles and slid one across the table to his brother. ‘What’s going on, mate?’ he said, his eyes darkening with concern. ‘You getting cold feet?’
‘It’s Claire. I can’t get her out of my head.’ He took a long pull on his beer.
‘What are you talking about? You’re about to marry Nina.’
‘I am actually aware of that, Chris,’ he said dryly. ‘But I just . . . I can’t let her go.’
‘Mate, Claire let you go. Remember? Eight years ago, when you proposed and she left the country. Don’t get me wrong, I like Claire, but you deserve better, Scotty. She’s caused you enough pain over the years.’ Chris drank from his own bottle. ‘I knew she’d try to mess things up,’ he added under his breath, almost to himself.
Part of Scotty knew Chris was right. Another part of him wanted to tell his little brother in no uncertain terms to watch his damn mouth.
‘I’m the one who’s messed everything up. I wasn’t honest with Claire. I didn’t tell her the real reason I’m marrying Nina,’ he said.
Chris stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘You’re joking.’
Scotty shook his head. If only he were joking.
‘So Claire thinks . . .?’
Scotty nodded.
‘But why? Why would you do that?’
Scotty stared at the table in silence. He’d asked himself that question a million times.
‘I think I was hoping,’ he said eventually, ‘that if Claire thought she was going to lose me for good, she might finally make up her mind.’
‘Oh, mate,’ Chris said quietly. ‘Claire’s not going to make a play for you if she thinks you’re in love with Nina. She’s not like that. You are a bloody idiot.’
Scotty laughed in spite of his misery. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like days. ‘Have you been talking to Nina? She said pretty much the same thing yesterday. Yelled it at me in the middle of the main street, actually.’
Chris smiled. ‘So what are you going to do?’
Scotty took a deep breath.
‘I’m going to tell Claire the truth,’ he said. ‘But first I have to find her.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Claire thought she’d been rumbled on the first night. She’d chosen the furthest corner of Thorne Hill to pitch the tent she’d hastily bought at the discount store on Saturday afternoon – a copse of shady gums at the edge of Bindallarah Creek. There were a hundred acres between her and the farmhouse, and the undulating landscape ensured that neither she nor her car could be seen from the road. She figured Scotty wasn’t likely to be kayaking on the creek or mending far-flung paddock fences when he had the clinic to run and Christmas Eve was just days away. Nobody would find her out here unless they knew exactly where to look – and the squire of Thorne Hill wouldn’t be looking for her anyway.
But Claire hadn’t counted on curious dogs.
She had just drifted into a fitful sleep on Saturday night when she was woken by an almighty splash. She lay in the stifling tent for what felt like an eternity, listening to something thrashing and snuffling in the creek just beyond the flimsy nylon. When at last she dared to switch on her torch and peek out, Claire had almost fainted with relief at the sight of Tank chasing moonbeams as they rippled across the still water.
The relief was swallowed by panic when it occurred to Claire that where Tank went, Scotty usually followed. But as the minutes ticked by with no sign of him, she realised the three-legged dog was simply doing his duty as Thorne Hill’s resident canine, stopping to cool off as he patrolled the perimeter to make sure the property was free of unsavoury characters – characters like his master’s heartsick ex-girlfriend, who was hiding in plain sight.
Tank didn’t seem to have any suspicions about Claire, though. In fact, he actually seemed to like her. He had come back to visit every evening since, gratefully gulping whatever tidbits she had to share with him, then curling up next to her to listen to the rainbow lorikeets and cockatoos shrieking as the sun sank in the sky.
He watched her now as she dismantled the tent and rolled up her sleeping bag. She had hardly needed it – the mercury hadn’t dipped below twenty degrees on any of the four nights Claire had been camping out. She wished she’d invested in a mosquito net or some insect repellent, though – she was covered in bites from top to toe. Her father would be appalled by her terrible outdoor skills.
Claire knew it was crazy to have come to Thorne Hill. How would she ever explain herself to Scotty if he found her there? But she couldn’t stay in Bindallarah and risk running into him on the street, seeing the look of pity in his eyes as he was forced yet again to endure the presence of a woman who just wouldn’t take the hint. The chances of finding herself face to face with him on his own property were much smaller, she decided.
Scotty had no inkling that Claire was there if his increasingly frantic ‘Where are you?’ text messages and missed calls were any indication. She wondered why he cared. Surely he was glad she’d left town. He must be grateful she wasn’t still badgering him to cancel his wedding. Claire ignored all his attempts at contact until he texted to say he was on his way to Bindy police station to report her as a missing person. She replied then to say she was camping and had unreliable
