Page 17 of Where the Wattles Bloom

It was meant as a general greeting to the entire table but, as soon as he spoke, Rowena’s head jerked in his direction and hell if he didn’t feel a kick in his pulse when her eyes landed directly on him.

‘Oh …’ Her forehead wrinkled a little. ‘Hey.’

Lachlan grinned at her lacklustre response. Whether Little Miss Boundaries liked it or not, they’d shared something special when they’d saved Silvano’s life, and it bound them in a way that transcended words.

‘We meet again,’ Lachlan murmured.

‘Apparently.’

Aware every eye at the table—and quite a few from around the pub—were upon them, Lachlan kept things light. ‘How are you settling into the job?’

‘Good. Learning my way around the place.’

‘You wanna join us?’ Brooke asked. ‘We’re down a player.’

Lachlan could have kissed her. ‘Love to. Shall I get us all a round of drinks?’

There was a resounding chorus of hell yes and Lachlan took everyone’s orders before heading to the bar.

‘She’s a looker,’ Wal said as he sat the three-quarter full Guinness glass down to settle.

It was the only pub in town that served the Irish drop, and that was only because Wal had a soft spot for Brooke, who had promised him she could get enough locals to drink it—not just Nathan—to make it worth his while.

And she had.

Lachlan nodded, noncommittally. It didn’t pay to be transparent in a town that ran on gossip. ‘Uh huh.’

‘Reckon she’ll stay on after her contract’s up?’

It was a constant topic of conversation out here where health care workers were difficult to retain. They usually only signed up for one or two contracts—enough to demonstrate rural service in their CVs—before moving on.

‘I don’t think so.’ She’d seemed very adamant about returning to Sydney.

‘Shame. Don’t get many like her out here. Hell of a thing she did.’

By saving Silvano’s life, Rowena had cemented herself into the story of Acacia Junction. And whether she knew it or not, or wanted it or not, the town had accepted her as one of their own.

They’d certainly be reluctant to let her go.

Wal picked up the Guinness glass again and topped it up, the creamy froth forming a dome on top of the mahogany liquid. ‘Maybe she’ll have reason to stay by the end of her contract.’

He passed the beer over with a pointed look. Lachlan smiled as he tapped his card, wondering if Reggie had rung ahead to get Wal on side. ‘Maybe,’ he said, as he picked up the tray.

Arriving at the table, Lachlan distributed the drinks, passing Rowena’s first.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

Her fingers slid from her earlobe, where she’d been fiddling with her earring, a long silver leaf that hung low and brushed against the side of her neck. Taking her wine glass, she downed a hefty swallow.

‘Have you heard any updates on Silvano?’ Lachlan asked as he sat, placing his light beer in front of him. The only spare chair at the table was directly opposite Rowena, which he wasn’t sad about.

‘He went into the step-down unit today,’ she replied. ‘The doctors are happy with his progress and he doesn’t seem to be exhibiting any signs of deficit from his down time.’

‘See, what did I tell you? We breed them tough out here.’ Lachlan raised his glass. ‘To Silvano.’

She tapped her glass against his and, despite her stiltedness around him, she smiled, obviously also pleased at the news, which made Lachlan inordinately happy.

‘Alright, alright, alright, you rabble.’ The sound system crackled to life as Ruth’s voice cut across the noise like a surgical blade. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’