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After jogging for another forty-five minutes, then returning to the office to collect her things, she left Piccadilly Circus behind her and skilfully navigated the London Tube. It was close to eight when she slipped her key into her apartment lock, and wearily stepped within the darkness. Flicking the light switch, she tossed her bag to the lounge chair and padded towards the kitchen, hoping to goodness there was something edible in her fridge, and a bottle of wine she was yet to miraculously discover. Half an hour later, showered and in her pyjamas, she was opening the door to her usual Japanese food delivery guy.
‘Thanks, Haru.’ She gave him a ten-pound tip.
‘You’re very welcome, Samantha.’ He stepped back and gave her a wave. ‘See you next week … ’ He paused, grinning. ‘… Or maybe tomorrow night for some teriyaki chicken?’
‘Ha, maybe. Have a good evening,’ she said, closing the door.
The fact that her deliveryman knew her weekend menu picks was dismal.
That’s when she decided. From this moment on, all that was going to change. It was time for her to gather the courage to face the ghosts of her past, so she could step forward, into a fresh start, a new kind of life, one where she wrote the story, and turned the pages when she was good and ready, and certainly one where she controlled the ending. So she picked up the phone, dialled Shea’s number, and in a conversation that took two and a half hours, told her bestie everything – except what had happened between her and Connor all those years ago.
Two weeks later, strapped into her first-class seat, Samantha drew in a big breath as the whine of the jet engines increased, and the Boeing 787 charged down the Heathrow airport runway. Her stomach lifted with the plane as it catapulted towards the sky. It was only once they were thousands of feet in the air that she pondered whether she might have just made the biggest mistake of her life in going back to Far North Queensland – or was it going to be for the better?
CHAPTER
3
Gunn Station, Gum Tree Gully
His headlights caught an incoming kangaroo just in the nick of time, and Connor Gunn swerved to miss it. Fast asleep in the passenger seat, his mother stirred but didn’t wake. Another near miss to add to his repertoire.
Early on, life had taught Connor that nothing was guaranteed. He’d learnt the hard way that if the hands of fate wanted to take you out, nothing would stop the inevitable. Under the cruellest of circumstances, he’d been forced to understand that no matter what, his days were numbered. Of this, he was certain. Just like anything with a heartbeat, he had a predestined end date. He had no say in the matter. So, armed with this knowledge as a nineteen-year-old with a who-gives-an-F attitude – and a chip on his shoulder so heavy he couldn’t see past it – he’d done everything in his power to test fate, at the same time trying to somehow shake the haunting memories of losing his twin brother. Then, way too soon after that, he’d lost the love of his life – the beautiful, mesmerising, incredible Samantha Evans. And even though they’d shared the most intimate, the sweetest, of nights together, she hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. Just vanished into thin air, like he hadn’t mattered to her at all. Still to this day, he longed for an answer as to why. Was it because she felt nothing for him? Or was it because she’d felt too much?
Maybe, possibly, he was about to get the answer he longed for.
A broken young man, after Samantha left he’d joined the rodeo circuit and ridden the meanest bulls, daring every one-tonne beast to end his insufferable life. When that hadn’t worked, he’d partied hard, then harder still; he’d taken risks where most wouldn’t; he’d picked bar fights, and been locked up for a month because of it; hell, he’d even tried the no-ties one-night hookups, which had only left him feeling emptier and emptier. Then, when his father suddenly died from prostate cancer, Connor found himself landing the position of the only Gunn male left on earth, and he’d pulled himself into line, for his mother’s sake – she’d already lost a son, and her husband. He’d had to step up to the plate and work hard, play none. Seven days a week. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year.
After that he’d tried the whole relationship malarkey, had even thought about asking the girl to marry him, but before he’d gotten the chance, that had gone belly up too. Good thing it had, because looking back he could see she didn’t love him, and even though he’d cared for her immensely, he hadn’t loved her either. Turning all his focus to running the family property had been his saving grace. And just when he thought he had a tight grip on the reins of his life, just when he wanted to live it to the fullest, the hands of fate had decided to throw him another curveball in the form of Samantha Evans. And the outcome was totally out of his hands.
God only knew what it was going to be.
Literally.
For now, he was hell-bent on taking his best man duties seriously, but it was going to be tough, given the fact he’d be partnered with the one woman he’d never been able to get out of his system. He still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to come back here, after avoiding the place for so long. It had stung, the way she’d left so suddenly. But then what had he expected after everything they, and she, had gone through? How could they have ever gotten married, had kids and lived happily ever after? The problem wasn’t only that Samantha had been his brother’s girlfriend.
It was also that he’d kept something hidden from her.
Deep in his heart of hearts, he knew he’d never be able to spend a lifetime with her without revealing the part he’d so innocently played in that horrific night. It was a cross he bore silently, but the guilt over his decision sometimes threatened to crush him. Therein lay the problem. A relationship built on a foundation of lies would never work – if he kept it from her, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, but if he told her the truth, she would likely never be able to forgive him. A vicious circle. Catch-22. He’d chosen to keep it from her, and he had to live with the repercussions of that. There was no use feeling sorry for himself.
Slowing as he approached the first set of traffic lights he’d seen in hours, he heaved a weighty sigh as he pulled to a stop. Frustratingly, he once again found himself wondering what it was going to be like laying eyes on her after all this time. Would they leave what they’d done behind? Could they? He knew she’d have an easier time with it than he would. He’d been invested emotionally. She very clearly hadn’t. But how could he hold that against her? They’d both lost loved ones in the car accident. His brother had been the lawbreaker, and her parents had been Angus’s unsuspecting victims in his reckless game of chicken. How Samantha had moved past losing not only her boyfriend, but both her mother and father in an accident that could have quite easily been avoided, had his brother not been so careless, was beyond his comprehension. Yes, he’d lost a piece of himself that night too, but not as much as Samantha had.
He and Angus may not have seen eye to eye, but that didn’t mean Connor didn’t love his brother. Being measured up, challenged and judged by Angus in absolutely everything they did as children had worn extremely thin by their teenage years. Then throw in the fact that Angus had deliberately gone after Samantha because he’d learnt Connor had developed deep feelings for her – well, that had been the final straw. Not that Samantha had known – just another secret to add to his closet of skeletons. If only he could rewind time, he’d have fought harder to keep the set of keys that had led to the death of six people. Hindsight, hey, what a bitch it could prove to be. The accident had been a tragedy that had changed the town, and its people, forever. He just thanked god Samantha hadn’t been among the fatalities. Although as the only survivor, her grief and guilt had almost killed her.
When the traffic lights turned green he heaved another sigh as he thought about how long and hard he’d battled with his own grief and guilt. Although he’d eventually climbed over that treacherous mountain of culpability, the battle scars remained on his heart. And would be there forever. Every single day, he had to push through the dark clouds of his past, because he wasn’t about to allow his mother to lose the only home she’d ever known. Keeping Gunn Station afloat, and profitable, was his objective. So far, he was succeeding. But for how long?
For the irony was that just as he’d made strides in dealing with his past and mental health, his physical health had begun to fail him.
The welcome sign for Gum Tree Gully shone like a beacon in his headlights. Whipping past it, he smiled. Not long now, and they’d be home. Thank god. Stifling a yawn, he stretched his aching neck from side to side. He couldn’t wait for his head to hit the pillow tonight. It had been a long day spent chasing the white lines of the highways. Having left Rockhampton just before dawn, he’d watched the sun rise gloriously into the bright blue sky, hold its own for almost twelve hours amid a listless sea of cloud, then descend into bewitching indigo-blue, trailing streaks of dusky pink and fiery reds in its wake. Then the black velvet drape of night had cascaded, providing the perfect backdrop for the plethora of glimmering stars. This was paradise right here.
Laying off the accelerator then taking a turn at the t-intersection, he felt his tyres leave the bitumen and meet with gravel. Winding his window down to allow the cool country breeze in, he sighed in pleasure as it whipped his shaggy blonde hair against his cheeks. He breathed in the scent of cow dung and lychee blooms as if it was the greatest smell in the world. After a week of inhaling hospital disinfectant and staring at four walls, this was heaven sent. Even the thought of being able to saddle up his stockhorse in the morning and go for a decent gallop gave rise to a flood of goosebumps. Country blood ran though his veins, and the wide-open stretches of Gunn Station were his drug. He could never imagine living anywhere else.
He pushed the clutch to the floor, and a growing restlessness gripped him as he went down a couple of gears. After steering his four-wheel drive up the hilly slope and then reaching the summit – with what were jaw-dropping, never-ending views in daylight – he pulled his LandCruiser to a stop at the gates of his family property. He didn’t need to see the wide expanses to know the mesmerising landscape – he knew intimately every curve, every bend and every crevice of Gunn earth that had soaked up the blood, sweat and tears of his forefathers over the years.
Dimming his spotlights from high beam, he watched the glow of headlights bounce off the gleaming sign stating they’d arrived at Gunn Station, Prime Angus Stud and Horse Agistment. He’d added the last three words after his father’s death, to get him and his mum by in the lean times, and even though it had been one hell of a big job, fencing all the paddocks off, and plugging like heck to catch the attention of horse owners, it was now paying off nicely. Every paddock was occupied. The horses were content. The owners were more than happy with the level of care and attention he showed their four-legged friends. And rain, hail or shine, he loved what he did.
‘Hey there.’ Stirring to life, Joyce Gunn stretched wearily in the passenger seat. ‘Oh, hallelujah, we’re finally home sweet home.’ Her usual warm-as-sunshine smile spread as she turned to Connor. ‘Sorry I fell asleep, love, I’m not a very good passenger, am I?’
‘Don’t be silly, Mum, I would have done the same.’ He offered her a loving smile. ‘You haven’t slept much these past two weeks, worrying and fussing over me, it’s no wonder you crashed.’
