Chapter 8
By the end of the day, Chelsea had a decent promotional plan put together.
It had taken her a little more time to search for the relevant websites, social media, magazine and newspaper sites around Perth that she could use to promote the upcoming fair, but she remembered a few from her teen-aged years.
She sent Lauren a text to say it was ready and ask when she was free.
While she waited for an answer, she called her mother.
“Chelsea, how was your day?”
Chelsea smiled at her voice as she sat on the couch. “Interesting. I ran into Lauren.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! Is she still living in Honeybrook?”
“Yeah, she’s the mayor. I’m helping her promote the Honeybrook Fair.”
“How fabulous. Tell her I said hi.”
“I will.” Chelsea looked outside at the dry, dying garden and her mood plummeted. “I also spoke to Darren.”
“What did he have to say for himself?”
“Johann paid him fifty thousand dollars to let the garden die.”
Her mother sucked in a breath. “How dare he!”
Her outrage soothed Chelsea. A small part of her had worried her mother had known and was using the destruction of the garden as an excuse to sell.
“Johann has been planning to buy the property since even before Aunt Maggie died.” Chelsea had gone through the proposal her mother had sent her and noticed the creation date was before Aunt Maggie’s death.
“That’s no excuse for what he did.”
Chelsea nodded. “I understand it’s your choice, but I’d really prefer you don’t sell to him.”
“Absolutely,” Sabine said. “He and his company can go to hell. The greed of the man…”
She heard Ezra speaking in the background and her mother explained what had happened.
“No, this isn’t business,” Sabine said. “Lilydale is Chelsea’s home.”
Chelsea’s heart ached. Ezra wouldn’t understand their sentimentality. He’d never gone without, never been abandoned by all their family except Aunt Maggie, had never been uncertain where he would live next.
Without Aunt Maggie they would have struggled far more than they had.
“No, I won’t sell to that man since he’s been so underhanded,” Sabine continued, talking to Ezra. A pause and then, “We can discuss it later.” The bite in her mother’s tone made Chelsea smile. Sabine turned her attention back to Chelsea. “What are your plans now?”
A good question. “I’ve gone through a couple of rooms,” she replied. “Taken some stuff to the op shop. There wasn’t anything you wanted to keep, was there?” Probably something she should have asked earlier, but they’d taken a few things when they’d been here for the funeral.
“No, I’ve got everything I want.”
“Then I’ll keep going through the rooms.”
“What about the garden?”
She pursed her lips, uncertain about her mother’s reaction. “Actually, Ethan’s doing some work on it.”
“Ethan? Not the Ethan who worked in the garden during high school.” She sounded shocked. “Didn’t he join the army?”
“Yeah. He’s on leave and came to visit Aunt Maggie. He didn’t know she’d died.”
“Oh, the poor man. I had no idea he kept in contact with her.”
“They wrote regularly.” It was sweet.
Sabine chuckled. “Aunt Maggie and her letters. She always insisted it was far more personable than email.”
And she was right. Chelsea might have saved her emails in a folder if they’d emailed, but she never would have gone back and reread them. Not like she had with her letters.
“Didn’t you have a crush on Ethan?”
Chelsea cringed, wishing her mother had forgotten. “Yes.” It had been more than a crush, but by the time her mother had returned from Europe, he had already broken up with her, so Chelsea had played it down.
She’d dreamed of marrying him—maybe not immediately, but someday after completing university and getting a decent job.
As a teenager she’d believed something about her deterred the male gender since her father wanted nothing to do with her and Ezra had just tolerated her.
But with Ethan she’d believed she’d found someone other than her mother and Aunt Maggie who loved her.
She’d thought they could build a home and family that neither of them had had growing up.
She’d thought wrong.
“Is he married?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. Every now and again, her mother would bring up her single status or introduce her to a colleague who was age appropriate and single. “I haven’t asked.” She glanced out the window. They hadn’t covered anything personal. She wasn’t sure what to say to him.
“Maybe you should. Is he still good looking?”
He’d aged well, like a fine wine. No, more like a whisky or rum, something with more punch to it. “I guess.”
That chuckle again. “There’s no need to rush back to Sydney. You should take a proper holiday after this.”
She wasn’t ready to voice her idea she might not return to Sydney at all. “I might not have a choice if I can’t find a job.” She wouldn’t ask Ezra to help her and her funds would only last a couple of months, but the idea of staying here longer soothed her.
“You said you were working for the council. It’s a start.”
Chelsea didn’t mention it was a volunteer job. Her phone beeped with a text from Lauren.
I can meet you for dinner?
A great idea. She could get out of the house and forget about everything. “I’ve got to go, Mum. I’m meeting Lauren for dinner.”
“All right. Keep me up to date.”
“Will do. Love you.” She hung up and sent a text back to Lauren. Sure. Where?
The pub. It’s the only place. Six-thirty?
How sad. There used to be a couple of small restaurants in town. See you then.
She had an hour to get ready, but after she packed her laptop into its bag, her footsteps drew her to the door. She hadn’t heard Ethan working in the garden since midday and she was curious what he was doing.
OK, she was also curious to talk to him and find out about his life.
It was the neighbourly thing to do.
Heading towards the greenhouse, she spotted the neatly trimmed oleander hedge. The branches from it were over by the compost heaps, as were a bunch of branches from a bougainvillea.
The grass was flattened around the cabins, and she followed the path to examine the buildings. They needed a good clean and the outside could do with a wash, but they looked structurally sound. The biggest task would be taming the nearby garden.
Aunt Maggie had a ride-on lawnmower and various other equipment to tidy the grass, so perhaps she should ask Ethan to mow it.
But was it her place to tell him what to do? He was here because of his love for Aunt Maggie.
She wandered to the next cottage and then the last one as uncertainty filled her. It was too big a property to manage from interstate, particularly if they couldn’t trust the person who was managing it.
Was it too much work for Chelsea to do on her own?
Aunt Maggie had struggled when the garden was healthy and she had a regular clientele.
Ezra would hate to spend money on something he would consider a money pit, and it wasn’t fair to ask her mother to hold on to it for sentimental reasons.
But selling this place felt like the final nail on Aunt Maggie’s coffin, and Chelsea’s past life.
Her happiest memories had been here; the barn was where Ethan had kissed her for the first time, the grassed area over there was where she and Lauren used to set up the sprinkler and run under it to cool off on hot days, and Aunt Maggie had given her that garden bed to do what she wanted with.
The first bit of land which had been truly hers and couldn’t be taken away.
Now it was barely visible beneath the weeds.
She sighed as she turned in a slow circle, surveying what was left of her childhood memories.
If she was honest, she’d never been happy in Sydney. The only thing keeping her there was her mother and siblings, and she didn’t see them often. Their schedules never seemed to line up.
But Honeybrook was a little too far away from the city for a comfortable daily commute, and Chelsea wouldn’t have much free time after work to deal with a garden this big.
She was foolish to even consider keeping Lilydale.
Her steps took her towards the barn and she hesitated outside. The door was closed, but she hadn’t heard a car leave, so she assumed Ethan was still around.
She couldn’t keep ignoring him. Taking a breath, she knocked on the wooden door and called, “Ethan?”
The door opened almost immediately. His cargo pants and T-shirt were damp with sweat and covered in streaks of dirt. His hair was flat and damp as if he’d been wearing a hat, but somehow when he smiled, he looked sexy, not grungy.
A memory flashed into her mind of her stripping off his shirt on a similarly warm day and helping him wash off the dirt under the hose.
“You don’t need to knock. It’s your place.”
She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away. “You might have been changing.” Which brought images of a clean, dry Ethan only half dressed, which was equally arousing. Not appropriate.
He shrugged. “I’m used to a lack of privacy, but if you don’t mind, I’ll set up a hose as a shower.”
Heat rushed her cheeks as the memory came back stronger. She cleared her throat. “Don’t be silly. Use the bathroom inside.” The words were out of her mouth before she considered the impact of Ethan being in her space. Particularly a wet, naked Ethan.
It had been far too long since she’d been with a man if she was lusting after the one who’d broken her heart.
Still, one of the nicest things about a hard day’s work was the long soaking shower afterwards, and she appreciated his help.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded slowly, not at all certain. “I’ll get you a key to the house.” Or perhaps a cabin would be more sensible. But she couldn’t rescind the offer now.
“Thank you.”
His sincerity spoke to her, and she didn’t like the way her insides warmed. She changed the subject. “The oleander looks good.”
“Thanks. Have you spoken to your mother about Johann?”
A sliver of annoyance slipped through her. It was none of his business. “Yes. She’s agreed not to sell the property to him.”
He tilted his head. “So, what will you do with it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to stay here…” The way he looked at her, as if he was hanging on to her every word, reminded her too much of their past, of how it had been so easy to confide her hopes and dreams in him. She pressed her lips together as the old hurt flooded back.
He shifted, placing his hands in his pockets but opening his chest in a friendly, non-threatening stance. “Where are you living at the moment?”
The temptation to tell him her worries was far too strong.
Far too dangerous. She couldn’t lose her heart to him again.
It had taken her too long to recover the last time.
“I’ve come from Sydney.” She checked the time.
“I need to go. I’m having dinner with Lauren.
I’ll drop the key by before I go.” She strode back to the house, her chest tight.
She knew nothing about him anymore. He could be married or in a serious relationship, and if she let herself care, she would be devastated all over again. He was the only man she’d ever loved.
But he hadn’t loved her. He’d abandoned her like her father had. Hadn’t cared enough, like Ezra.
She hadn’t been good enough.
She had to remember.
But it was so hard to when he looked at her with those eyes that promised he understood who she was to her core.
Apparently she was a sucker.
Annoyed, she strode into the house and locked the laundry door behind her.
The symbolic gesture made her feel stronger. She was in control of her life and her emotions.
It took only a short time to get ready for dinner.
She checked she had the printed copy of her proposal for Lauren in her bag as she went downstairs.
A few nerves danced in her stomach. What if Lauren didn’t like it?
What if she really wasn’t good at her job and that was why Viral Posts Media had fired her?
She closed her eyes, gave in to her insecurities for three deep breaths, and then let them go like her therapist had taught her.
On the way out, she grabbed the spare key from the hook in the pantry, locked the house and then hurried back to the shed, tapping on the door before she walked in.
Ethan sat in a camp chair, reading a book, looking at home with a beer in his hand. There was no sign of the uncomfortable teen he’d been, always expecting to be told to leave.
Her heart ached as she remembered the conversations they’d had about books they enjoyed.
He’d introduced her to the fantasy genre, and she’d introduced him to romance.
The one he held was a romance by one of her favourite authors.
She bit her tongue to stop herself from asking if he was enjoying it. “Here.” She thrust the key at him.
He looked up and his eyes widened as he slowly scanned her from head to toe. Her body warmed at his slow perusal. “You look amazing.”
Heat suffused her cheeks. Hardly. She just didn’t have many casual clothes.
Most of her wardrobe consisted of business clothes, with a few pairs of tracksuits for lazing around home in winter.
She ignored his comment. “I’ll be a couple of hours if you want to use the bathroom before I get back.
” And she hoped he would. The last thing she needed was to know he was wet and naked only a room away.
The image seared into her brain.
She turned and strode towards the door.
“Have fun. Say hi to Lauren for me.”
She waved her acknowledgement but didn’t turn around. She needed to get out of there.
And figure out what to do about the far too appealing Ethan Ward.