Page 84 of Whispers of Sweetwater

‘Takes one to know one, Gav.’ Hayden tried but couldn’t bring himself to smile. Not yet. ‘But yeah. Guess I am, when it comes to her.’

* * *

The sun had dipped behind the tall paperbarks by the time Brianna pulled up outside Tilly and Gavin’s place. The strong trunks caught the last blush of sunset, the bark peeling in soft ribbons to reveal smooth grey beneath. High above, leaves whispered together, shifting and sighing as the breeze tangled through the canopy. In a way, Mother Nature was grounding her even as her heart hammered in her chest like a boxer’s fists. She sat in her car for a long moment, eyes tracing the string lights woven through the lower branches of the trees lining the backyard, twinkling like tiny fireflies in the dusk. A burst of laughter floated on the breeze, a soft, familiar, safe melody. She could see the campfire flickering just beyond a lush garden popping with colourful flowers. With the twins staying over at Molly’s cottage for the evening, it left the backyard free for adults only tonight – low chairs around the fire, the long wooden table set under the stars, plates and glasses catching the glow of the fairy lights. Just as she suspected, Tilly had gone all out with vases of fresh wildflowers running down the centre of the table, linen napkins folded just so, and candles flickering in old jam jars. She knew all the finer details, because only an hour earlier, Tilly had sent her a picture of it all, along with a message that read …

Made it special, for my special friends. Hope you’ll come. T xx

The simple text, the image of the effort Tilly had poured into every detail, had cracked something open inside Brianna, and she’d written back before she could second-guess it.

I’ll be there, Till. Thank you, for being YOU! Bxx

Maybe it was for Tilly that she’d decided to come along, maybe it was for herself. Either way, she was there now. So she drew in a breath, then another, telling herself she could do this. That she wanted to do this. When she finally stepped out, the grass was cool beneath her sandals. Sherlock trotted at her side, her quiet guardian, as always. Tilly spotted her first, waving her over with a smile so big it broke a little of the ice inside Brianna’s chest. But her friend didn’t stand and wait, she hurried to meet her halfway, slipped an arm around her shoulders and then steered her gently inside the house for a moment, out of sight.

‘You okay?’ Tilly murmured. ‘You can still change your mind, you know that, right?’

Brianna managed a wobbly smile. ‘I’m okay. I think.’

With a reassuring smile, Tilly guided her through to the kitchen, and the moment Brianna stepped into the warmly lit room, her stomach tightened with hunger for the first time in a full day. The warm, rich smell of slow-roasted lamb drifted from the oven, mingling with the scent of garlic and rosemary. Fresh bread cooled on a wooden board, golden and inviting. On the bench, Tilly had a potato bake set on a trivet, and there was a huge bowl of delicious-looking salad. Sherlock padded in behind them, nails clicking on the tiles, sniffing the warm air eagerly. He parked himself right by Brianna, pressing his side to her shin as if to remind her he wasn’t going anywhere.

‘This looks, and smells, amazing, Till,’ Brianna murmured, her voice catching.

‘I adore cooking for my friends and family; it’s my love language.’ Tilly smiled, brushing a hand over Brianna’s shoulder. ‘The salad has toasted macadamias and fresh mango in it, too. Thought we’d keep it fancy.’ She waved a hand towards a rattan stool. ‘Now sit, my gorgeous friend. I’m making you a drink.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Brianna said with a faint smile, planting herself on the tall chair at the stone breakfast bench.

Sherlock flopped at her feet with a soft huff, his tail thumping lazily whenever she reached down to scratch his ears.

Bustling about the heart of the home, Tilly poured something bright and cold – a splash of gin, a squeeze of lime, fresh mint she said she’d gathered from the garden – then pressed the pretty pink cocktail glass into Brianna’s hand.

‘One sip at a time, hon. Deep breaths. You’ll be right.’

When Brianna nodded, a little steadier, Tilly tipped her head towards the back door. ‘Ready?’

Brianna looked down at Sherlock, who wagged his tail once in quiet approval, then back at her friend. ‘Yeah. Ready.’

Together, they stepped out the back door and into the soft glow of the backyard, where Gavin and Hayden stood by the fire, beers in hand. Hayden turned at the sound of their footsteps, and for a heartbeat, then another, the world shrank. The fire crackled softly behind him, flickering warm light across his handsome face, making all the angles more chiselled. His eyes locked on hers, full of something raw and unguarded. Brianna read him in that second, and there was relief there. And regret. But more than anything, there was love, the undeniable kind, just for her. Her breath caught. She felt it like a pull under her ribs, the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in this whole wide starry night. And for a moment, no one else was there. No soft laughter, no night birds, no cicadas, just the hush between two hearts trying to find each other again. He didn’t move, and neither did she, but a quiet question flickered in his eyes.

Are you really here?

And her gaze answered back.

I’m trying to be.

Sherlock brushed against her leg, his tail sweeping through the grass, grounding her back into her own feet as she let her lips curve into the smallest, softest smile. One she saved only for him.

Gavin cleared his throat, stepping forwards with a grin. ‘Hey, Bri. Good to see you.’

Hayden’s voice was softer but steady. ‘Hi, Bri.’

Before she could answer, Tilly clapped her hands together and pointed at the long wooden table. ‘Right, you lot, sit down, stay put, and don’t you dare lift a finger. I’m bringing everything out.’

They obeyed, settling into the chairs around the beautifully decorated table beneath the fairy lights. Gavin asked Brianna about her work, and she answered comfortably – it was a subject she felt no unease with, and she appreciated that Gavin would know that. Hayden remained quiet, taking sips from his beer as if to keep himself occupied. Her foot tapped anxiously beneath the table. She caught her fingers drumming the top, and she forced herself to try and calm down as the scent of slow-cooked lamb, herbs and fresh bread drifted from the kitchen. In a flurry of hostess excitement, Tilly ferried out dish after dish, the platters of food smelling like comfort and family and home. Then they ate, passed plates, sipped their drinks and laughed in small bursts. And with every shared story, every clink of glass upon glass, Brianna felt some small part of her shoulders and stomach unknot. As if it was a natural progression, of sorts. Bit by bit, the warmth seeped in, melting the tight ache in her chest, reminding her that she was still here, among people who made her feel herself, and maybe, just maybe, her forgiveness for Hayden’s ridiculous mistake was closer than she’d first thought.

* * *

A few hours later, when the last plates had been cleared and Tilly and Gavin were cuddled up together on a big camp chair near the fire, heads tipped close in quiet conversation, Brianna caught Hayden’s eye as she rose from her seat and turned her head towards the shadowed edge of the yard.

Hayden’s breath hitched.