Where the Heart Is

Chapter 4

CHAPTER

4

As Sawyer’s arms tightened around her and Mila allowed her body to relax into his embrace, the emotion of the last hour—heck, of the last year—bubbled up and she couldn’t hold it back.

To her mortification, a sob welled in her chest, followed by another, and before she knew it, unwelcome tears had soaked a patch on Sawyer’s shirt. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything; he just held her, the rhythmic stroking of his hand down her back equally soothing and annoying.

Annoying, because his touch resurrected long-buried memories of her massive teen crush.

She’d been hopeless back then, her skin burning whenever their fingers brushed as he handed her a drink or if he bumped her with his hip, as he often did when they joked around.

Sawyer had been Ashe Ridge’s resident clown, constantly making people laugh with his antics. His classmates had loved him for it. The teachers, not so much. He’d never cared, boasting about how he couldn’t wait to leave town.

But she’d seen beneath his brash exterior, had seen the flicker of hurt when someone labelled him as ‘good for nothing’ or said he’d ‘never amount to anything’ . She’d tried to ask him about it once and he’d clammed up, avoiding her for two weeks. It had been just before his final exams and he’d been at Hills Homestead every day, swotting with Will. Her brother had been a brainiac and she’d hoped his diligence would rub off on Sawyer, but Will’s best friend had left his cramming too late, and she’d sensed his panic.

When Will ducked out to help Gramps with the tractor, she’d approached Sawyer with the aim of calming him down. But the moment she’d mentioned that ATAR scores weren’t the be all and end all, and that plenty of people who weren’t book smart went far in life, he’d shut down.

She’d regretted it, because he’d avoided her for the next two weeks. The day after their last exam, Will and Sawyer hit the road—and never returned.

Sawyer hadn’t kept in touch, which hurt. She’d hidden her crush well and thought they were friends, even though he was Will’s bestie. But she’d got over it. So why was the feel of his arms around her now, and his familiar fragrance of fresh-cut grass and vetiver, making her want to cling to him?

She wasn’t the type of woman who needed a man to make her feel better, but in this moment, she tightened her arms around his waist and savoured the rare comfort of being held.

When the ache in her chest subsided and her sobs petered out, she relaxed her hold and eased away, unsure whether to be relieved or bereft when he released her.

‘You okay, Gumnut?’ Sawyer placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up. ‘I have to admit, I’ve known you for ages and seeing you cry still freaks me out.’

She grimaced, embarrassment scorching her cheeks. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Hey, don’t apologise. You’ve had a crappy day. You sure I can’t break Phil’s kneecaps in your honour?’ He chucked her on the chin, making her smile.

‘No, I’m not upset about Phil falling for some dating app bimbo, but I’m beyond worried how I’ll keep the farm afloat without his financial help.’

‘How bad is it?’

The last meeting with the bank manager, a month ago, and the mortgage payments she’d fallen behind on flashed before her eyes, but she blinked them away. ‘Bad enough.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘Not unless you have a few hundred grand floating around so I can complete my farm-stay project and get paying customers to book it out for the next millennium.’

She’d made a throwaway comment, her sarcasm something he should be used to—she’d used it often enough as a deflection technique when they’d been growing up—but she didn’t like the speculative gleam in his eyes, as if he’d taken her seriously.

Before he could say anything, she rushed on. ‘Anyway, why don’t you come inside and have something to eat? There’s some catered food that needs to be consumed, frozen, or thrown out.’

Thankfully, he bought her distraction. ‘How many guests were you expecting?’

She screwed up her nose, beyond grateful Phil was taking care of calling them. Then again, it’s the least he could do, considering he’d been the one to cancel their wedding.

It seemed ridiculous thinking about it now, that she’d been about to marry her neighbour out of desperation, loneliness, and her obsessive love for this farm. Her entire life had revolved around this farm once her folks dumped her here, and she loved every inch of the place: the family homestead silhouetted against vast blue skies, the endless paddocks covered in stubby lentil seedlings, the secluded dam, the golden sunsets. A marriage of convenience, an antiquated notion she’d scoffed at when she’d read romance novels in her teens, seemed a small price to pay for saving her pride and joy.

Losing Hills Homestead, her family’s legacy, wasn’t an option.

And she’d do whatever it took—including marry for mutual financial gain—to save it.

With that option now off the table, she had no idea how she’d save the one thing in the world that meant everything to her.

‘Hey, if you have to think that long about how many guests you were expecting, I’m guessing you didn’t send out the invitations?’

She gave her head a little shake. ‘Sorry, drifted off for a moment. It was going to be a small ceremony, with guests from Phil’s side mainly.’

Disapproval grooved his brow. ‘Were you really going through with it?’

‘For Hills Homestead, absolutely.’

‘But you would’ve given up some land—’

‘A small price to pay to save the rest of it,’ she said, her tone unintentionally sharp. She shrugged. ‘I know it sounds ludicrous, but I have my reasons for wanting to hang on to this place at all costs.’ She paused and gave him her best stern stare. ‘Reasons I have no intention of discussing with you.’

Annoyingly, he chuckled and held up his hands. ‘Whoa. No need to divulge your deepest, darkest secrets to me. I’m just here because Will couldn’t be.’

‘My brother used to eat bugs yet his lousy immune system fails him now,’ she muttered, and this time Sawyer laughed outright. ‘Anyway, I’ve over-catered, so come have some food.’

Because if Sawyer was chewing, he wouldn’t be talking and asking questions she had no intention of answering. Like why she’d bawled in his arms and the sheer, unadulterated terror that now gripped her at the thought of what the hell she’d do next.