Page 30 of Whispers of Sweetwater

Way too close.

It had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Not just because it was Molly, who’d been like a mother to Casey, who still dropped off a bag of Anzac biscuits every year on Casey’s birthday without fail, but because of the why.

Someone had targeted her.

Someone had known what they were doing.

Someone in town.

All because of her dead brother.

And that sat wrong with every part of him.

He exhaled slowly, his mind a mess. His back ached from hours bent over timber and glass, but it was the kind of ache he welcomed. Tangible. Honest. Not like the knot that had tightened in his chest the moment Molly had confessed about the blackmail. The debt. Her brother Jack. Gone now eight months. And still causing ripples from the grave. He rubbed a hand down his face, over his two-day stubble. He remembered Jack – he’d always been a bit rough around the edges. Charming when he needed to be, a smooth talker with sticky fingers and a gambling streak a mile wide. But no one had thought it would come to this. Especially not Molly. Now she was paying his price. And some horrible human being, someone they all likely knew, someone who he might have smiled at in the grocery store or shared a beer with at the pub, had decided she owed them.

His stomach twisted.

Bastards!

And then, unbidden, his thoughts turned back to Brianna Steele.

He hadn’t meant for it to happen. Hadn’t wanted it to. When she’d first rolled into town with that shiny blue Hilux and the calm confidence of someone who knew how to stitch a womb back together and handle a wild brumby in the same breath, he’d seen trouble. Not the kind that wrecked your life. The kind that made you want to live again. And he hadn’t been sure he was ready for that. Wasn’t sure he deserved it. But then she’d smiled at him, in that genuine, cutely crooked way she probably didn’t even know she did, and something in him shifted. And when he’d seen her hold Molly today, her hands steady, her voice low and kind, not flinching when things got dark, that was when he really knew. Brianna was a rarity, especially in his world. He knew this wasn’t just about him being ready to fall in love again. It was about recognising something rare when it stood in front of you.

But then came the part he still felt uneasy over. The stupid dare. The foolish bet Gavin had roped him into. A thoughtless joke, a push. And he’d agreed. Not because he meant harm, never that, but because he’d been stuck for so long he didn’t recognise the line until he was halfway over it. Yes, he’d told Gavin the bet was off. Told him it wasn’t a game. But he hadn’t told Brianna about it. He meant to. He’d planned to. Several times he almost had. But each time he was near her, and the moment had felt right, something stopped him. Embarrassment? Fear of embarrassing her? Fear of her rejecting him, by refusing to ever speak to him socially again? He wouldn’t blame her in the slightest if that were the case. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to never speak to her again. He liked their conversations. Liked her company. Loved the sound of her voice. Loved how he felt when he was around her.

He wanted to tell her what a fool he’d been.

He wanted to admit what a brainless twit he was, accepting such a stupid bet.

And now?

Now worrying about the bet seemed irrelevant. Stupid, even. Today had changed things. Seeing Molly broken. The café torn apart. Hearing the fear in Molly’s voice as she’d admitted she hadn’t told the police about the blackmail. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she was scared. That kind of fear had a way of putting things into sharp perspective.

What was a bet, a bad decision, compared to that?

Still, a part of him whispered that Brianna deserved the truth. That if something grew between them, something real and poignant, it had to be built on more than silence. But another part, the part that had buried a wife and barely survived it, told him it might be kinder not to say anything at all. The damage was already done. Why drag it into the light? And as much as he wanted to, he didn’t have an answer. Not yet. But he knew one thing. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt Molly. Not like that. Not again. And look out anyone who tried to hurt Brianna because she was helping Molly out.

Out in the paddock, Diesel gave a soft, low nicker – like agreement, or a benediction.

Hayden tipped back the last of his beer and leant into the chair’s embrace, the stars wheeling slow above him. He didn’t know what tomorrow held. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just haunted by the past. He was thinking about the future. And it didn’t feel like betrayal. It felt like something new.

Maybe even something worth protecting.

CHAPTER 9

The soft buzz of her alarm barely had a chance to hum before Brianna’s eyes opened. Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet, but her body was already in work mode. Years of studying, late-night emergencies, and early-morning callouts had conditioned her internal clock. Feeling as if she’d hardly slept a wink, she groaned as she reached for her phone, silencing the alarm before it disturbed the stillness. Before it disturbed Molly, who she hoped was still sleeping. Sherlock, curled like a question mark on the edge of the bed, lifted his head and gave a soft whine.

‘You’re not joining me today, my mate,’ she murmured, brushing her fingertip over his silken head. ‘I need you to stay home, so you can keep an eye on Molly, make sure she’s nice and safe.’

He huffed as if to say he had already planned to.

‘Thanks, bud, I know I can always count on you.’

He barked a short, sharp response, then offered her his adorable doggy smile.

Chuckling at their conversation, she threw back the covers and climbed from the bed. Sherlock followed, executing a downward dog pose like a yoga pro, before turning in dizzying circles – his way of letting her know he needed to pee, sooner rather than later. So, quickly grabbing her robe, she tugged it over her pyjamas and padded down the hallway, with Sherlock’s nails click-clicking on the timber floorboards behind her. She was glad to see Molly’s bedroom door was still shut, and no light was sneaking out from beneath it. They had sat up until close to midnight, their hands cradled around hot cups of Milo, and Molly would need her sleep before dealing with the ordeals of the day. There was certainly a lot to do to get Chapter One back up and running by the next week, but Molly was hell bent on doing just that so she could prove she wouldn’t let bullies ruin the business she’d put her heart and soul into.

Forty-five minutes later, after stopping off in the kitchen for some peanut butter on toast and a nice strong coffee, and now fresh out of the shower, Brianna pulled on her jeans, boots and the navy shirt embroidered with her Sweetwater Veterinary Clinic logo. Her movements were quiet but purposeful as she contemplated her appointments. Although she’d like to have a day off to help Molly, sick animals couldn’t wait. Even though she tried to focus on her work, the horrible events of the day before still clung to her like thick smoke. The damage to the café, the fear in Molly’s voice as she’d poured her heart out, and the way Hayden’s eyes had hardened at the mention of the anonymous blackmail. Then there was all the stuff about her dead brother, Jack. His gambling. His debts passed on like cursed heirlooms. It all weighed heavily upon her heart and left her feeling helpless for a woman she wanted nothing more but to help.