Page 122 of Where the Wattles Bloom

She hadn’t planned on just saying it. There was going to be a preamble, words she’d practised—but, in the end, they were the only three words that mattered. There’d be plenty of time for elaboration.

Hopefully.

‘I love you,’ she repeated, her eyes open this time, the flowering gum overhead a starburst of colour.

‘I know,’ he replied, his answer gruff.

She laughed, making a terrible wet kind of snorty noise through her tears. She eased out of his embrace. ‘You do?’

‘Well …’ He smiled down at her. ‘I hoped.’

Rowena grinned, the pain in her heart carried away on the breeze as he looked at her with all the love in his body shining from his eyes.

‘It was the Ferris wheel,’ she said, pinpointing the moment she’d fallen for him, as he had done for her.

‘The near kiss?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘How you bribed that kid to stop the gondola at the top so we had the best view of the fireworks. That was old-school romantic.’

He pulled her in, whispered, ‘I promise I’ll always bribe the Ferris wheel kid for you,’ before kissing her for long drugging moments that set her pulse racing.

It probably would have gone on for much longer had the baby not kicked. Given how closely they were smooshed, Rowena wasn’t the only one who felt the swift, sharp jab.

Lachlan pulled away abruptly, startled for a moment, before his gaze dropped to her belly. ‘Wow.’ He took in her growing girth with wonder. ‘You’re really showing now.’

Rowena nodded. ‘Twenty-eight weeks.’

‘Can I …’ Lachlan hesitated, raising his hand a little.

‘Of course.’ She grabbed his hand and smoothed it over her very definite bump.

Now she was no longer being squashed against her father’s big frame, their daughter went quiet again. Not that it stopped either of them standing there waiting for another jab.

‘I’m going to quit my job and move to Acacia Junction,’ Rowena said as they gave up on feeling anything else, their fingers intertwining as they faced each other.

‘No.’ It was practically a growl. ‘To Blairgowrie.’ His voice brooked no argument, not that he was going to get one.

‘If you’ll have me.’

He didn’t bother with an answer. He just said, ‘When?’

‘I might have to give some notice at work and I gotta pack up my apartment and put it on the market.’

‘I’ll help. It’ll be faster.’

Rowena smiled. ‘It’s not that big.’

‘Even better.’

‘I want to work, part-time, at the hospital. After the baby’s born. When she’s a bit older.’

‘Of course.’

His quick acceptance eased her mind. A part of her had wondered, as she was driving, if he’d want her to commit all her energies to the farm.

As if sensing her concerns, his arms tightened around her. ‘I don’t expect you to be a Reggie. I love you,’ he said, his eyes burning fiercely into hers. ‘And I want you to be happy out here and not be career disadvantaged, especially not when there’s a hospital right down the road. I don’t expect you to join the CWA or learn how to ride a horse or step into Reggie’s show cook shoes. I just want you and me and our daughter living on Blairgowrie together, and we’ll figure out the rest as we go along.’

Rowena nodded, her lungs suddenly feeling too big for her chest. ‘I like the sound of that.’