The car rounded a sweeping bend and in her peripheral vision Claire saw a flash of movement. Suddenly, an animal darted into the road directly in front of her car.
Not just any animal, she realised with horror.
‘Tank!’
Claire stomped the brake pedal with both feet. She felt the wheels lock and the rear of the hatchback lose traction and then she was spinning, fishtailing wildly across the highway. She heard the screeching of tyres on tarmac.
Claire closed her eyes and braced for impact.
Seconds passed with no bang, no crunch of metal on bone. When the acrid stench of burnt rubber filled her nostrils, she opened her eyes.
Her car had come to rest on the dirt shoulder on the other side of the road, facing the wrong direction and surrounded by a thick cloud of dust and smoke. There was no sign of Tank. Claire began to tremble violently.
As she fumbled for the doorhandle, Claire heard a shout. Her heart in her throat, she peered through the driver’s side window and saw a black four-wheel drive parked in a rest area a little further down the road. She squinted to read the lettering on the shiny black paint.
Bindallarah Veterinary Hospital.
Scotty.
And then there he was, running towards her car, wrenching the door open, unfastening her seatbelt and dragging her to her feet.
Scotty ran his hands over her face, her arms, through her hair. He checked over every inch of her and when he was satisfied she was still in one piece, he said, ‘You always were terrible at parking, Thorne.’
‘Tank,’ she replied, trying to catch her breath. ‘Is he okay?’
‘He’s fine. I only stopped to let him out for a toilet break and he ran off, cheeky little bugger. He’s back in the car.’
Claire’s relieved sigh came out in a whoosh. ‘What is it with that dog and throwing himself in front of your girlfriends?’
Scotty laughed, but the sound was hollow, mirthless. Gus hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said Scotty looked terrible. He was unshaven and his hair was unkempt. His skin looked sallow and his eyes were puffy. He was still in his wedding suit trousers and shirt, though both were as creased as if he’d slept on the beach. Maybe he had.
But he was still beautiful.
‘You don’t look like you should be behind the wheel yourself, Scotty. Where are you going? It’s Christmas Day,’ she said gently. ‘Shouldn’t you be with your family? Or perhaps sleeping?’
Scotty rubbed his face and stretched. Claire felt a telltale heat pool within her as she saw his muscles undulate beneath the thin cotton of his white shirt.
‘I’m going to Sydney,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ she said. Something akin to hope flared in her chest. ‘Why?’
Scotty turned away from her and gazed down the long, straight stretch of road, as if trying to visualise the city that lay eight hundred kilometres to the south. ‘Because you’re going to Sydney.’
‘Actually, I’m going to Thorne Hill.’
Scotty’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘But Vanessa said —’
‘Vanessa was fibbing,’ Claire cut in with a smile. ‘She was just looking out for me. That’s what she does.’ It was what she had always done, Claire could now see, and she loved her aunt for it.
Scotty didn’t respond, but regarded her steadily. His guarded expression made Claire’s stomach twist. Not for the first time, she wished she could read his thoughts, to ensure she wasn’t about to make a total fool of herself.
‘So you’re only going to Sydney because my scary aunt told you to apologise?’ she continued, trying for a teasing tone.
‘No, Claire, I’m going to Sydney because I’m in love with you and I want to be wherever you are,’ Scotty said. ‘I thought I’d made myself pretty clear about that last night. Why are you going to Thorne Hill?’
There was no trace of fatigue in his gaze now, but there was a challenge in his words. His green eyes were as hungry and penetrating as Claire had ever seen them.
Tell him, her inner voice screamed. Don’t waste another second!
Interpreting her silence as hesitation, Scotty said, ‘I know I’ve been an idiot. I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry.’ His tone was all urgency. He put his hands on Claire’s waist and drew her in close. ‘But I can’t lose you again. I can’t just stand by and watch you walk out of my life. I promise I won’t ask you to marry me again. I promise I won’t try to tell you what you think or how you feel. I’ll wait for you forever if you just tell me I’ve still got a chance.’
With still-trembling fingers, Claire touched the triangle of smooth skin that was visible at the open neck of his shirt. She felt the throb of his pulse beneath her fingertips.
‘Well, that depends,’ she murmured.
She felt rather than heard his reply. ‘On what?’
‘On whether there’s an opening for another equine specialist at the Bindallarah Veterinary Hospital.’
Scotty laughed and the sound warmed her to the tips of her toes. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘I know the owner.’
Scotty’s arms tightened around her and Claire let her head fall forward to rest on his chest. She remembered how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, even in the blazing afternoon sun on the side of a dusty highway.
‘Just so there’re absolutely no misunderstandings this time,’ he said, breaking the silence, ‘are you saying what I think you’re saying? What I hope you’re saying?’
Claire took a deep breath and looked up at him, so that her gaze locked with his. ‘What I’m saying, Scotty Shannon, is that I love you. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen years old. I choose you. Forever.’
And when Scotty’s lips claimed hers, it felt like the first time.
EPILOGUE
‘Whose stupid idea was it to have a beach wedding in the middle of winter?’
