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The scent of basil and fresh tomatoes permeated the air as she strode into the kitchen. ‘Ciao, Nonno.’ She paused to peck both his cheeks – even though he was retired, he couldn’t stay away.
‘Buongiorno, bella.’ Turning from where he was stirring a massive pot of sauce, he regarded her intently, his bushy dark brows scrunched together.
She didn’t realise a tear had slipped until his arms came around her. ‘What has he done to you this time?’
‘Just the usual, painting me as the baddie in front of Chiara.’ She sniffled and shook her head. ‘I hate how he plays such hurtful games.’
‘Chiara isn’t silly, she knows you love her very much, and everything you do is with thought for her.’
His kind words and baritone voice soothed her. ‘Thank you, Nonno.’ She offered him a sad smile. ‘I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘That’s what family are for, si?’ His warm smile reached deep within her broken heart. ‘We’re meant to care for and protect one another, always.’
Her smile filled with the warmth of his. ‘Si, family is everything.’ She kissed his cheek again. ‘I better get to it, before we’re bombarded with hungry customers.’ After hanging her bag on a hook, she changed her flats to her heels, put on her work face, then popped a CD in the stereo, making sure to turn it up.
Listening to the famous Louis Prima – one of her favourite musicians – she, her nonno and her cousin Alessandro sang along to their hearts’ content to the tune ‘Che La Luna’. The song always put her in a happy place – how could it not, with its catchy, upbeat tempo and fun lyrics. Grabbing a pile of freshly laundered red-and-white checked tablecloths and linen napkins, she headed back out into the dining room to begin setting the tables while wiggling her hips in time to the melody. In the middle of each table, she placed a vase with a fresh red rose, along with a bottle of balsamic vinegar and fruity olive oil. Next up, her foot tapped rhythmically to the sassy song ‘Buona Sera’ as she sliced the fresh bread that they offered for free, so the customers could la scarpetta – mop up all the juices – as it was sacrilege to leave them behind. And as she followed her usual routine, to the music that filled her soul to the brim, she couldn’t help but feel better as the minutes ticked on. At least when she was here, she could be herself, warts and all. And no matter what, Alessandro, Nonno and their loyal staff of eight, who were all related in one way or another, loved her unconditionally. There was a lot to be said for the way Italians put the love of family before anything else. It was one of the main things she loved about being in Florence – the feeling that she belonged here.
CHAPTER
3
Silverton Shores, Far North Queensland
Morgan Savage had been born into this world an adrenaline junkie, which explained his chosen career as a Royal Flying Doctor Service pilot. He’d started his quest to seek anything that spiked his pulse almost as soon as he could walk. Everything from climbing on unbroken horses, skydiving, hang-gliding, bull riding, scuba diving with sharks, rally-car driving, motorbike riding, chopper mustering, and the list went on. Throughout his thirty-four years he’d defied death way too many times to count. His poor mother had endured many scares and hospital visits. His poor father had been the one to have to soothe her concerns as well as give his son a firm reminder of his mortality when needed. Which had been often. He was their only child – they’d poured all their blood, sweat and tears into the family property, and into him. And the fruits of their labour had paid off when his father had been recognised as a leader in cattle production and scored his dream job of travelling the world to teach others the ways of animal husbandry. His parents had grabbed the opportunity with both hands, sectioned off the property with Morgan’s encouragement, sold off most of it, then gifted some of the profit and one hundred acres with the homestead and cottage to their cherished son.
And very soon, Jessica Sabatini was going to be back in Silverton Shores. The very place she had been meant to spend a lifetime with him as her husband, raising their two envisaged children. But, as per usual when it came to his life, not everything had gone to plan.
He’d just learnt to roll with the punches.
A phone call from Roberto the day before had stirred deep emotions, not that he was going to let on to his best mate at a time like this. Morgan thought back to Roberto’s words as he kept his gaze on the glowing horizon from his seat in the cockpit. One busted main water pipe, he’d said, and Jess’s arranged accommodation had been rendered uninhabitable. Morgan felt for Roberto and Shanti, having to shack up at Shanti’s mother’s tiny two-bedroom place until their house was liveable again, which could be a couple of months – but damn fate and its meddling hands leaving himself as the only viable option for accommodation for Jess. Everything else in the township had been booked by interstate wedding guests, and Annie’s tiny studio-style unit wasn’t an option either, given there was barely enough room to swing her Persian cat. Just how Jess was going to take the news he hadn’t a clue; he’d find out soon enough when he collected her from the airport the next morning. Another task given to him as Roberto and Shanti dealt with the aftermath of a flooded home, and Annie found herself unable to skip a shift at the already understaffed Silverton Shores hospital.
Not that he believed Annie should have Jess stay with her anyway. There was pressing unresolved business there that he wanted laid out on the table before Jess went back to Florence. Not that Annie was coming to that particular table without a fight. Even though he understood and was compassionate about her reasons for wanting to remain tight-lipped, he wasn’t letting her off the hook. He couldn’t carry the overwhelming weight of her secret any longer, and he’d told her as much.
With a heavy-hearted sigh, he thought back to when Jess had left town, and him. A broken man, he’d deliberately headed for trouble, but with some tough love from his father and Roberto along with the kind-hearted support of his mum and Shanti, he’d eventually pulled himself back together. Not that he could ever forget Jess, as much as he sometimes wanted to. As if branded there, she was burned into his heart. She was a sweet memory. An enigma from his past. And the leading part in the secret he’d so innocently discovered as a seven-year-old boy.
A secret that had been kept because of a promise made.
A promise that could possibly have an end-by date.
He turned his full attention to the here and now as a familiar cluster of buildings came into view. Dropping from the twilight-hued sky, he expertly landed the twin engine plane on the runway and taxied to a stop. A minute later, its propellers slowed then came to a standstill. The two nurses and doctor bustled in the back, tending to the patient that was due to have her baby any day. With the unborn child in breach position, she was going to need a caesarean, not something that could be done at an outback cattle station. Following protocol, he made sure all his ducks were in a row before he slipped his headset off, along with his seatbelt, and rose from his helm in the cockpit. Just shy of six-foot four, he couldn’t wait to step onto the tarmac, so he could straighten out the kinks in his back. And having an entire month of annual leave ahead of him was adding a spring to his step.
Raised by a third-generation true-blue cattleman, and with a love for horses running in his country veins, he hadn’t set out to be a pilot for the RFDS. He’d never lain awake at night, dreaming of the day he’d fly a team of medical professionals into the yonder to birth babies and save lives. But true to form, fate had other plans. One of his best mates had died in his arms after a fishing trip up the tip of Australia went horribly wrong, and he’d made a promise to the powers that be to devote his life to doing what he could to save others.
And here he was, doing just that.
It was amazing what the human body could withstand and heal from. Accidental shootings, snakebites; being trampled by a bull or gored by wild pigs; unsuspecting kids catapulted from trees and trampolines; and the list of ailments and accidents went on – far-flung cattle stations could be extremely dangerous places. Morgan knew that all too well after serving eight and a half years in the cockpit, with his crew of doctors and nurses catering to a landscape the size of Western Europe. The things he’d seen, the people he’d helped save and the ones they’d sadly lost, had all left their mark on his guarded heart. Now it felt good to know he had four weeks of leave before getting back to the grindstone of dusty airstrips dotted with livestock and roos the size of small cars.
The good lord knew he needed it.
Alighting from the plane, he met with his colleagues just as the ambulance they’d organised for the pregnant woman drove away. ‘I’ll catch you lot on the flip side.’
‘Sure thing.’ Doctor Jacob gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘You enjoy that well-earned break, won’t you, mate.’
‘Cheers, Jacob, I’ll give it my best shot.’
‘Catch you, Morgan,’ the pretty new nurse said with a flutter of her extra-long lashes.
As uninterested in her as he was in almost every other woman who had made her attraction to him clear, Morgan flashed her a smile. ‘Thanks, Shelly.’
