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‘I’ll tell him. It’ll be a while before the tow truck gets here to pull him out. He’ll have a chance to get used to the idea.’
There was a brief silence, then Caitlin held out her hand. ‘It’s been an interesting morning, Dr Matt Gardiner.’
‘It has, Dr Caitlin Butler-Brown.’ He squeezed her hand gently, reluctant to let her go. ‘Drive safely.’
‘I will, yes.’ She retrieved her hand.
‘Goodbye, then.’ She smiled at Nicky. ‘You were great over there at the foal’s birth.’
‘All I did was hold your jumper.’
‘That, too, but mostly you were cool and calm when things weren’t going so well. That’s a big thing.’
‘Thanks.’ Matt watched as his son all but wriggled with pleasure.
Caitlin turned and walked to her car, aware of a lingering regret to be saying goodbye.
Her fingers were still warm from the pressure of Matt’s hand. She’d been prepared for the zing of his touch this time. And it had helped. Just.
Father and son were watching as she slid into the driver’s seat. She winced about her embarrassing mistake—though who could blame her for thinking there would be a wife and mother waiting for them at home? What woman in her right mind would let such a darling pair go?
But, then, her own mother had demonstrated time and again how much more important research was when weighed against a husband’s or a daughter’s welfare. Only the dogged persistence of Caitlin’s father, following his wife around the globe, had kept the family together.
She started the car, put it in gear and accelerated away.
A glance in the rear-view mirror revealed Matt was still there, one hand on his car roof, his head tilted slightly. He’d gathered Nicky to his side with his free hand.
A shadowy shiver surprised her as she took a final glance in the mirror. Matt and Nicky’s figures were now tiny. She shook her head, irritated by the illogical trend of her thoughts. The feeling that the man was important to her in some way was plain daft. As was her wayward delight that he was single. Single didn’t mean available. He certainly wasn’t available to her. No man was. Especially not a family man.
She turned the corner, almost relieved to be able to dispose of the last tiny physical trace of them.
Matt’s presence lingered in her mind, though. A secret mission, he’d suggested. He’d been joking but the words had held enough truth to tip her off balance. She was here for a reason. Not underhand but not straightforward and open either.
How do you introduce yourself to an aunt who doesn’t know you exist? How do you tell a woman that her long-lost brother died with an apology on his lips?
‘Da, you’ve left me in an impossible situation.’
Caitlin sniffed, blinking away the quick rush of moisture that blurred her vision.
She was here to gather information, to decide how to handle this delicate family matter. There was going to be pain, that was unavoidable in the circumstances, but she wanted to minimise the suffering if she could…for herself, for her unknown aunt, for whoever else might be involved.
The last thing she needed was a complication in the form of a man. Especially one with a child. Regardless of how charming they both were.
It wouldn’t be fair to them. She didn’t do relationships or family well.
She didn’t know how to make them work, had no blueprint to guide her. Her mother hadn’t wanted children at all. While Caitlin knew her father had loved her, his first priority had always been his wife.
A grey cloud of gloom settled over her. Because now here she was in rural Victoria to see if she could reforge the ties her father had cut with his family decades ago.
And experience showed she’d inherited her parents’ inability to make family relationships work.
No, she had no business wishing she could see more of Matt and his precious son. None whatsoever.
CHAPTER FOUR
STRUCK out big time. Matt’s mood dipped as the MG rounded a curve and disappeared behind a stand of scrubby bush. Once upon a time, he might have managed a phone number.
Nicky shifted. Stifling a sigh, Matt roused himself.
‘She’s nice.’ Nicky looked up. ‘I like her.’
‘Me, too, mate.’ Perhaps just a tad too much. He couldn’t put himself on the line in a relationship again, leave himself vulnerable the way he had with Sophie. That had nearly destroyed him. If he hadn’t had to pull himself together for Nicky’s sake, Matt wondered how he’d have ended up.
Since the end of his marriage his interest in female company had been precisely zero. A chance meeting with a little Irish veterinarian had changed that.
Maybe his foster-mother was right. Maybe he did need to get out more. She was always encouraging him to find a good woman. A partner for him, a mother for Nicky. Prospects were trawled under his nose from time to time. Doreen made no secret of wanting more grandchildren.
He’d have to put Caitlin Butler-Brown down to experience, as the one that got away, and make more of a commitment to his social life. The thought of leaping back into the dating game made him shudder. But leaping anywhere with a certain veterinarian for some reason seemed outrageously appealing. Which showed that the scars from his marriage hadn’t completely killed his masculinity after all.
One look and his wary heart wanted nothing more than to plop into Caitlin’s clever, caring hands. He should be looking for a nice country girl. Much more sensible. Though perhaps not. He grimaced wryly. His ex-wife, Sophie, had been a home-grown Garrangay girl. And their marriage had been a total disaster.
‘Let’s go and talk to Mr Neilson and then we can head home.’ With one last glance along the empty road, he followed Nicky back towards the float and truck.
Jim was watching the foal’s increasingly confident forays.
‘Your mare and foal need to stay here for at least a week. Vet’s orders,’ said Matt.
‘A week! I can’t leave her here that long,’ Jim gasped.
‘You don’t have a choice,’ Matt said. ‘You were a damned fool to try and move her so close to foaling. And you know it. Caitlin hasn’t saved your mare for you to risk the animal’s life again. Organising agistment here until she’s fit to travel is a small price to pay.’
Jim coughed and spluttered before he nodded grudgingly. ‘Here, you’d better take this. Your friend left it.’ He held out Caitlin’s black padded jacket.
Matt’s fingers sank into the down-filled softness and warmed instantly. Her perfume wafted up, the floral tang bringing a sharp memory of clear, smiling, grey eyes.
Resolutely, he tightened his grip. It was an expensive garment, the sort that someone would want back.
‘Thanks. I’ll get it back to her. Come on, Nicky.’
Whistling softly, he tucked the coat under his arm and set off across the paddock. He had a cast-iron excuse for tracking her down without looking like some sort of unbalanced weirdo.
He knew her name. Knew she was a veterinarian with delightful hints of an Irish accent. How hard could it be?
Nothing she’d said gave him a clue where she was staying, except that it was somewhere in the area. He knew where he’d start. With his foster-mother and her contacts in the local accommodation industry. If he had to, he’d work his way through every motel, bed and breakfast, hotel and hostel in the district.
The Grampians loomed over her aunt’s bed and breakfast. Remnants of fog clinging around the base did nothing to soften the daunting majesty. Despite the late morning sun, Caitlin shivered. The stark, craggy range glowered down at her, challenging her right to be there.
Her stomach clenched as doubts suddenly swamped her. Perhaps she should have written first. Prepared her aunt. How would the poor woman react to having a stranger drop into her life without warning?
Not for the first time, she wondered if her father had had other siblings. Was there a whole host of aunts and uncles and cousins lurking in Garrangay? She swallowed as her heart skipped uncomfortably.
As it stood, she was the only child of parents estranged from any family they’d had. Martin Brown and Rowan Butler. Her family was a tiny unit, even smaller now that her father had passed away.
Three hundred kilometres away, in the comfortable suburbs of Melbourne, this whole venture had seemed simple. But here, on her aunt’s doorstep, it seemed fraught with complexity. Her usual calm detachment deserted her completely, leaving her mouth dry, a sinking sensation in her stomach. The urge to get back in the car and drive away was almost overwhelming.
She shut her eyes. Waiting behind her closed lids was a clear vision of brooding, green eyes beneath a dark gold thatch of hair. Her eyes snapped open. Dr Matt Gardiner.
There was an intensity about him—and her reaction to him—that was unnerving. She’d read the interest in his eyes, seen it turn to curiosity after she’d fumbled with answering his questions.
Her cheeks warmed at the memory of her gauche behaviour. Stupid. He’d even provided a ready answer for her—a holiday. All she’d had to do was say yes. Instead, she’d hesitated and that stark tension had sprung up between them.
‘We hardly ever bite our guests.’
She spun around. A pleasantly plump woman smiled at her from a few feet away.
Her aunt? Caitlin stared, searching the face, the friendly blue-grey eyes.
‘Mrs Mills? I’m Caitlin Butler-Brown,’ she said, pushing the words past the constriction in her throat.
The welcoming smile faltered, replaced by a peculiar, almost stunned look.
Oh, Lord. Was it recognition?
It couldn’t be. Da had said his sister didn’t know he’d even married, let alone that he’d had a child.
Her surname was Butler-Brown, no reason at all for Doreen to associate the hyphenated name with Martin Brown.
And, besides, everyone said she favoured her mother in looks. Except for her eye colour. The silvery grey came straight from Doreen’s brother…Caitlin’s father.
Suffocating panic made her want to retreat, snatch open the door of her car and drive away. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all.
‘I—I have a booking.’
‘Oh. A booking. Yes. Of course you do.’ The woman seemed to shake herself mentally. ‘I’m sorry, dear. Come in. Come in. Let’s go around the back. Did you want to bring your bag in now or…?’
‘Er, I might leave it until later.’ If her courage failed her, she could still make that dash for Melbourne.
‘I thought you might have come a bit earlier. Oh, but I expect you’ve been sightseeing.’
‘Mmm, yes. I have.’ That was one way of describing her long morning. She’d found a public bathroom so she could have a wash and change her top. Then lingered over cups of coffee while she’d debated whether she’d continue with her plans or retreat back to Melbourne.
‘You don’t mind using the tradesmen’s entrance, do you? I’ve been gardening. That’s what I was doing when I saw you.’
Now that the woman had started, it seemed as though the sentences gushed out.
‘I’m Doreen Mills.’ She gave a small, embarrassed laugh and her hands fluttered briefly. ‘But you know that. Call me Doreen, of course. We don’t stand on ceremony. I’ve not long taken some muffins out of the oven. I got so involved with the broad beans I nearly burnt them. The muffins, that is, not the beans.’
‘I…see.’ Caitlin bit back an urge to giggle lest it explode into full-blown hysterical laughter. She waited for her aunt to lever off her dirty boots at the step.
‘I’ll show you your room. Then we can have a nice cup of tea.’
The house smelled of the muffins and lavender and lemon polish. Everything was spotless and tidy without seeming intimidating. It was…homey and welcoming. Settled in a way that her family’s houses had never managed, Caitlin realised with a small sense of envy. It beckoned to her but at the same time left her feeling like an outsider, as though she could never quite belong there.
‘I’ll put the jug on, then.’ The flow of words stopped abruptly.
‘Doreen?’ Caitlin frowned. Was her aunt looking a little pinched around the mouth? ‘Are you all right?’
‘Oh, dear, yes. Nothing to worry about. I’d better just…’ Doreen rummaged in a large bag then pulled out a box and shook out a blister packet ‘…take a tablet.’
Caitlin glanced at the label. Glycerol trinitrate. Her stomach swooped on a quick flood of anxiety. Her aunt had a heart condition. ‘You’re having chest pain? How bad is it?’
‘Mild angina, dear. I’ll be right in a minute.’ But Doreen allowed herself to be led over to the table and pushed gently into a chair.
‘Sit here now and we’ll see how you’re feeling.’ Caitlin slipped into the chair beside her hostess. To her critical eye, Doreen’s colour seemed good. Better now, in fact, than it had been outside. ‘Do you want me to call your doctor?’
‘No, no. Heavens no. Silly me. I’ve overdone it in the garden, that’s all. I’ll be good as gold after we’ve had that cuppa.’ Doreen grimaced ruefully, her eyes glinting with affectionate humour. ‘And Matt will just growl at me.’
‘Matt? Your doctor? That wouldn’t be Dr Matt Gardiner, would it?’ An odd sense of inevitability settled over Caitlin.
‘My son. Well, technically my foster-son, of course.’
‘Of course,’ said Caitlin faintly. That would teach her to ignore her earlier shiver of premonition. She wondered what else might be in store.
Doreen made a small grimace, looking resigned. ‘I’ll tell him tonight when he comes home.’
‘Comes home?’ Shock numbed Caitlin’s tongue, making her stumble over the simple words.
‘Yes. He’s—’ Doreen broke off, her head cocked to one side. ‘Oh, dear. I’m not expecting anyone. I wonder if that’s him.’
Caitlin had been vaguely aware of the sound of the crunch of car wheels on gravel. Now a door on the other side of the house banged shut.
‘Him? You mean Matt?’ Her voice wasn’t much more than a squeak. She was still grappling with the idea that he lived here. It was too much to think that he might actually be here. No. She couldn’t meet him again. Not right now. Not without some time to prepare.
‘Yes. He has an uncanny knack of…. Oh, dear. Please don’t say anything about my little episode, will you, Caitlin?’ Doreen shot a guilty look towards the door. ‘He’s had such a dreadful morning, I don’t want to add to his load today.’
‘But—’
‘Mum?’ The rich, deep voice jolted Caitlin to the core.
She swallowed hard, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap to prevent her fingers betraying her internal shudders.
‘We’re in the kitchen.’ Doreen gave Caitlin a conspiratorial smile.
‘Something smells delicious.’ Matt came through into the large kitchen-dining area. The easy smile on his face froze as his whole body seemed to do a double-take. Caitlin’s brain played the scene in slow motion so that it seemed to progress inexorably from frame to frame.
‘You.’ He was obviously having trouble believing his eyes. ‘You’re here.’
‘Yes,’ she managed. She felt barely able to string thoughts together, let alone put them into words to form coherent sentences.
