6
Rhett
There were two greenhouses on Silver Wish Farm. A large modern contraption and an old worn one made of wood and glass, put together by Heath’s great-grandfather, Neville Silver, many moons ago. The same man who had been swept away by a great-aunt of Rhett’s back in the day.
Neville built Abbigail Smithson the Gatehouse, but only because she asked him to. Poor man was under the impression he was going to live there happily ever after with her, but as soon as she got her hands on the place, he was tossed out.
Rhett grinned to herself as she sat on an old wooden milking stool, picking shards of glass out of baby tomato plants. The Gatehouse, although burned to the ground, was still going to reside on the Silver land once rebuilt, and she did wonder what old man Neville would have thought about that.
Probably blown a gasket.
She lowered her head as she giggled. Not much made her laugh anymore, so the funny thought was welcome. The memory of Heath thinking she wanted to talk about ownership of the land during Benton’s memorial service came flooding back, wiping away her smile. No one had mentioned his will, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up. If Benton had anything official written down, she would have heard by now. Vivien seemed happy enough with the café being on Silver land anyway.
Placing small particles of fallen glass into a wide terracotta pot, Rhett went over her own troubles for the umpteenth time. It didn’t make a difference, but it wasn’t something she could shake from her mind.
Vivien almost lost her dream when the Gatehouse went up in smoke, but her ending turned out to be a new beginning. She was happy with Finn, building a new café, and talking babies and marriage. There was even mention of a cat.
What do I have to show for my life?
The thought hit her hard, causing the dull weight of sadness to meet her solar plexus. She had never been one to feel sorry for herself, even though she had just cause. She was happy for her little sister. She just wished some of Vivien’s happiness would rub off onto her.
Maybe I should tell Viv about the stables. She’s going to find out soon enough when the for-sale sign goes up.
She stopped picking up glass and rested her chin on her gloved hand. The smell of earth wafted up her nostrils before blending in to her cool surroundings.
Abbigail Smithson entered her thoughts again. She couldn’t have been happy holed up in the Gatehouse alone, surely. She could have had love. Neville loved her.
Why did she throw him away?
None of her family made sense. Why should her ancestors be any different?
With a narcissistic father and a mentally ill mother, Rhett took a moment to analyse her sister. Vivien seemed to skip through life a lot easier than her. Well, it looked that way from her point of view. It was her own fault. She took the weight, giving her little sister the freedom they both deserved.
They had the same parents, grew up in the same house, but lived different lives. Nothing fell to Vivien. She wasn’t expected to tend to the horses or help out around the house. It was all on Rhett. Sometimes it made her wonder if her parents hated her.
Rhett thought about the day she set out to marry Heath Silver. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, and the horses had been fed. She’d done her chores, watched her dad and sister drive off to a buyer’s market, tidied her hair and put on a floral dress that nobody knew Heath had bought for her, then she picked up her bag, ready to head off to the register office in Sandly.
It was the one drip of warm water landing on top of her head that changed the course of her life.
Maybe it was the thought of losing Lucky Riding Stables and having to move away from the house she was born in that was taking her back to the past. It wasn’t something she dwelled on. Not anymore. She’d spent years pining for Heath, hating her mother, and regretting all decisions made during that time of her miserable life.
She breathed out a sarcastic laugh, knowing she was still miserable.
It was coming up to lunchtime, and Rhett figured her daughter was flying to China to see the sights, if she was still on schedule. The only great wall Rhett had ever seen was the one round the back of the local church. The one she’d fallen from when she was seven. Seemed pretty big then.
A noise interrupted her thoughts, and a flutter hit her heart when Heath opened the door to the small greenhouse. He offered a polite smile before sitting over the other side of the enclosed space to tidy some plants.
‘How you getting on?’ he asked, sounding as casual as ever.
She glanced at the light-blue gloves covering his large hands, then turned her attention to the gaping big hole above their heads where a glass pane once lived. ‘Getting there.’
They sat in silence for a while, each concentrating on their task, not that Rhett had her head in the game. All she could think about was him.
Why is he sitting in here?
She stole a few glances his way whenever she thought he wasn’t looking and wondered what he was thinking.
He could do without all this crap. What could we talk about that’s cheery?
‘What did one cow say to the other?’ she asked, tending to the plant closest to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him slowly turn her way.
One side of his mouth hinted a smile was being held back. ‘What?’
‘Moo.’ She quickly bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing at her pathetic attempt at a joke.
There was silence from his end, but she did notice his mouth twitch in one corner again.
She looked down at her lap. ‘Speaking of cows, where did this old stool come from?’
His eyes met the lump of half-eaten wood, then slowly lifted to her thigh and darkened a touch.
Rhett could feel heat creeping up her neck, made worse by the fact she knew he could see her cheeks were matching the tomatoes around her. Her blushes were always so visible.
Breathe. Breathe.
She cocked her head, trying for an angle where most of her face would be hidden, but without the actual movement of her body, which she felt would make her embarrassment even more obvious, there was little she could do.
‘Not sure. I think my great-grandad made it,’ he replied quietly, then cleared his throat.
A beat passed.
‘So,’ said Rhett, because it was too quiet for her nerves to handle. ‘How’s it going outside?’ She saw him glance at the door.
‘So far we’ve saved about thirty percent.’
‘Is that all?’ She swore under her breath but was sure he heard.
‘Insurance will cover the loss.’
I have insurance. What if I burned my house down? It could sort my problems.
She frowned at herself at the stupid and dangerous thought, then winced when a sharp sliver of glass pierced her glove to attack her index finger. ‘Ow!’
Heath quickly moved himself and his seat in one swift swipe to land at her side. ‘Let me see.’ Before she had a chance to respond, he whipped off her glove and homed in on the small droplet of blood. ‘Hmm, a plaster will do.’ She watched quietly as he reached to a top shelf and pulled down an old biscuit tin.
She glanced inside at the mini first-aid kit sitting alongside a reel of green garden wire and a handful of lollipop sticks.
Heath pulled a clean hankie from his jacket pocket, pressed it on her finger, then used a sterile wipe to clean the skin before covering her wound with a beige plaster. All she could do was stare down at their connection.
This is the first time you’ve held my hand in twenty-one years. Do you even know?
A wave of disappointment filled her when he pulled away to put the tin back. She quickly stood as he went to sit, meeting his body with her own, knowing full well what she was doing.
It could have been loneliness, or perhaps the thought of moving away from him, maybe it was Benton’s sudden death bringing the life’s too short motto to the front of her mind, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was she wanted him to hold her like he used to all those years ago.
Heath’s dark eyes were filled with seriousness as his full lips parted. His head lowered as hers lifted just a touch, then the door swung open.
‘Grub’s up… Oh!’ Finn raised his palms, pulled in his lips, then made a show of slowly backing out the greenhouse.
Rhett gave herself a mental shake and broke away from Heath. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said softly, brushing past his solid arm.
‘You’re not the only one,’ she heard him say in a deep gruff tone.
She practically sprinted to the main house to greet Fran with a warm cuddle and a sincere kiss on the cheek. If there was one place she felt she could breathe, it was Fran’s kitchen. The heart of the Silver family home. That was something her family never had. Not one part of their house screamed heart.
Fran had the Smithson sisters sitting side by side at her large oak table. She served up chicken-potato-and-leek soup with homemade sourdough bread.
Heath walked in, washed his hands, then sat opposite Vivien, with his back to the large brown-brick fireplace.
The country cottage style room usually made anyone feel at ease, but breaking bread with Heath at his mum’s table wasn’t doing Rhett’s appetite any favours. It had been so long since she sat there with him. Having some cake and a cuppa with Fran were too many times to count, but sharing food with Heath just wasn’t something they did.
Tyler entered by the side door with Florence in tow. They were laughing about something, gaining everyone’s attention except Heath’s, it would appear, as Rhett looked up to see his eyes fixed on her.
Fran proceeded to update the group on the morning’s events, showing strength and grace.
Finn came in, washed his hands, scooped out some soup, sat the other side of Vivien, leaned over to kiss her cheek, then grinned into his lunch as though no one would notice, but Rhett saw.
He thinks he walked in on something. Well, you didn’t.
She glanced at Heath to see him giving his brother daggers, then she quickly went back to eating when his gaze turned on her.
He totally walked in on something. But what? What the hell am I doing? Why now? I need to get out of here.
She dropped her spoon, not meaning for it to clang so loudly and gain attention. Without making eye contact with anyone, she quickly scraped her chair back and stood, ready to flee the warm and homely scene of the Silver kitchen.
Heath was out of his chair just as quickly, and she didn’t know why. She didn’t wait to find out either.
‘Sorry, I have to go. Florence can stay.’ Rhett gulped down a mouthful of fresh air as soon as she faced the overcast sky. Her powerwalk rapidly turned into a sprint, willing her jelly legs to get her home.
She hit the stables, grabbed a saddle, then headed to the paddock. Tourmaline was about to gallop as though her life depended on it. Rhett only wished she had four legs herself to get away from her messed-up world a lot faster.
The breeze slapped at her face as she pushed her horse on across the field at the back of her poor excuse for a home. The damp green grass flicked and sprayed from the pounding of hooves as Rhett tried desperately to clear her mind of Heath Silver, the past, and how much her heart still longed for a life she could have had with him.