Home to the Heart Country

Chapter One

CHAPTER

ONE

The door to the lunchroom burst open and in strode Jessica, her tailored shirt and figure-hugging pencil skirt showing off every one of her fabulous curves.

‘The new tech guy is absolutely delicious,’ she announced, her hips swaying as she headed for the shelf where the mugs were kept.

Selecting one, she spun around, a devilish grin on her lips.

‘And he’s completely off-limits to all of you—’ she swept a red-taloned finger over those who were present, ‘—because I call dibs.’

With a flick of her hair, she proceeded to prepare her usual source of lunchtime sustenance—a peppermint tea.

The room erupted as everyone else launched into an animated discussion about the new guy.

They bickered over who had seen him first, whether he was as delicious as Jessica believed and if they thought anyone was game enough to challenge her claim on him.

In short, they prattled on about tedious and unimportant things.

Seated alone in the far corner of the room, Beth stared at her phone and sighed.

She hadn’t failed to notice that Jessica’s sweeping finger hadn’t hovered in her direction.

Whether that was because Jessica simply hadn’t noticed her—people often didn’t—or because she didn’t view her as a threat, Beth wasn’t sure.

And although she pretended not to care that she’d been overlooked again, she did.

It hurt to be ignored. Even by people who prattled on about tedious and unimportant things.

Three years she’d been at Dream Home Builders, yet none of her colleagues knew a single thing about her.

And she’d been so excited to start working there, too.

After years in hospitality—she couldn’t even count the number of restaurants and cafes she’d worked in—she’d hung up her apron for the last time after Rosie died.

She’d never bothered to make friends in her previous jobs—what was the point when she knew she wouldn’t be around for long?

But when she scored the job at DHB, she’d vowed things would be different.

She wanted to get to know her colleagues and, hopefully, find a friend among them.

Just one. That’s all she needed. Someone who saw the world the way she did.

Someone she could count on to sit with her in the lunchroom.

But her efforts had been in vain. Apparently, her workmates saw nothing in her that interested them. That hurt. She couldn’t fathom what put them off getting to know her. She was polite, didn’t reek of body odour and, most of the time, remembered to smile. What more did they want from her?

Her confusion and her colleagues’ apathy meant she often sat in the lunchroom when it was full of people but still managed to feel completely and utterly alone.

She stabbed her fork into her salad and forced herself to focus on the ebook she was reading.

It was a game she played. Act totally engrossed in her device so people would think she had more interesting and important matters to attend to outside of work.

Let them think she didn’t need them. Let them think she was perfectly content with her own company.

‘Hey, Beth.’

She looked up at the unexpected acknowledgement and straightened in her seat, suddenly on high alert, her fight or flight instincts kicking in. Because although it wasn’t nice to be ignored, the alternative—being noticed—well, that was simply terrifying.

Ian grinned down at her, and before she could do so much as return his greeting, he grabbed the chair across from her, spun it around and straddled it. Beth did her best to school her features into an expression that wasn’t dumbfounded shock. Smile. Remember to smile.

‘Uh, hi, Ian. Can I help you with something?’

He snickered and shook his head as if highly amused. ‘Ah, Beth. Always so polite.’

She frowned and her smile dimmed. Would he prefer that she be rude and caustic?

‘Listen,’ he told her, ‘don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem a little uptight. Like you don’t get out much. Which is why I think you should join us for drinks after work.’

Don’t take it the wrong way? How else was she meant to take it?

Speechless, she did nothing but stare at him.

‘Everyone’s heading to that new bar on Flinders. You should come.’ His slow smile made her skin crawl. ‘I can drive if you’d like to have a couple of drinks. Might help you loosen up.’

‘Oh, that’s … really nice of you to invite me, but I’m afraid I have plans.’

Even if he hadn’t been so condescending and offensive, the last thing she wanted was to spend her evening with a group of boisterous people in a loud and smelly bar. She’d be on edge the whole time and would only end up exhausted. It would take her days to recover.

Ian stared at her a moment, then ran his tongue over his teeth and shrugged. ‘Oh, well. Your loss.’ He vacated the chair and went to join his mates.

Beth carried on eating and returned to her ebook, willing herself not to cry.

Was it really so much to ask that someone socialise with her on her terms?

She’d much prefer a quiet night in with just one or two people—they could drink wine, eat cheese and discuss books.

Getting stupidly drunk in an overcrowded room where it was impossible to hear what anyone was saying was not her idea of a good time.

* * *

After work, Beth fell into her car with a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

Pretending that she wasn’t bothered about being a social outcast took a lot of energy, but now that she was no longer required to put on a front, the tension in her core melted away as she finally relaxed.

Despite what she’d told Ian, she didn’t have plans.

At least, none that didn’t involve kicking back on her couch and re-reading one of her favourite romance novels.

Escaping into a story she’d already enjoyed was one hundred per cent effective in easing her nerves and quieting the negative thoughts that often threatened to consume her.

All she wanted to do was go home to the cute little cottage she rented on the outskirts of town.

Just the thought of it helped calm her. Because it was her safe place.

Her refuge. The first home she’d ever known.

Thanks to her nomadic upbringing, she’d lived in countless places growing up, so she loved that she’d lived in the same little weatherboard house for the last four years.

It felt good to put down roots in Townsville, because stability and belonging were all she’d ever craved.

And while she didn’t exactly feel as if she belonged in this city of red dirt and ocean air, she could categorically say she had stability thanks to a permanent job and great landlords.

As she turned into her street, Beth saw an unfamiliar ute parked on the verge in front of her house.

Her gaze zeroed in on the woman standing beside the vehicle, the one with the unmistakable frizzy red hair.

What was her real estate agent doing here?

Overseeing a man hammer something into the lawn, apparently. What was it? Surely, not

What the hell? It was!

‘No!’ Beth slammed on the brakes, putting her seatbelt to work as it fought to keep her in place. ‘No, no, no, no, no.’ Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the image of a for sale sign being erected in front of her home.

A light tapping at her window shattered the illusion.

‘Ms Sullivan? Are you okay?’

Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something. That even though she’d proven she could stay put, her mother’s blood did run in her veins. Maybe she should just give in and go where the wind blew her, acknowledge that she’d never belong anywhere.

Grinding her teeth, she fought the tears that pricked, hot and angry, under her eyelids.

It was Rosie who’d chosen that life for them—Beth had begrudgingly been swept along for the ride—but now Beth was free to make her own choices and she was gonna stay here in Townsville, damn it!

Okay, so she’d have to find a new rental, but surely there were other places out there as good as this one?

Doubtful. But possible.

The knock came again, making Beth jump.

She glanced at her agent then surrendered to her fate and pulled into her driveway.

Taking the keys from the ignition, she stepped from her car and caught the way the late afternoon sun bathed the cottage in golden light, dappled as it penetrated the foliage of the fig trees in her yard.

The sight had welcomed her home countless times and she never failed to marvel at the beauty of it. Today, though, it made her heart ache.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The real estate agent offered an appropriately apologetic wince as she approached. ‘I was hoping to catch you before he arrived to put up the sign.’

Beth stared at the offensive sheet of corrugated plastic. ‘How long do I have?’ Before she needed to move. Again. Another house, another notch in her belt.

‘The owners aren’t in any hurry,’ the agent told her, ‘which is why they’ve chosen to go with an expression of interest campaign. The closing date is twelve weeks away. They wanted to give you as long as possible to make other living arrangements.’

Beth nodded. Four weeks or twelve, it made no difference to her. It was difficult to feel gratitude when she was being turfed out of the only real home she’d ever known.

If she had any money, she’d buy the place herself, but every spare cent she’d earned in the last four years had gone towards paying off Rosie’s funeral expenses.

With one last apology, the agent and the evil man wielding the mallet departed, leaving Beth alone with her depressing thoughts.

She had to move again. Even as a kid, all she’d ever wanted was to stay put and feel as if she belonged, but that had been the exact opposite of what her mother had wanted.

‘But Mu-uum, why do we have to move again? I want to stay here. I’ve finally made some friends.’

‘You know why, Bethie. I can’t stay in one place for too long. I get itchy feet. Besides, you can make new friends at the next school. You’ll be the lucky kid with friends all over the country. And for the thousandth time, call me Rosie.’

The constant moving had stopped once her mother received her cancer diagnosis. Rosie had always been happier when they were living somewhere warm, so she’d insisted on staying in Queensland, and Townsville had been the last place they’d moved before she’d gotten too sick to relocate.

Losing Rosie had been a struggle. It had been only the two of them for almost as long as Beth could remember, so to suddenly be alone in the world was terrifying, difficult, heartbreaking—all the things.

But once she’d made the decision to stay in Townsville and study office management, she’d committed to making the cottage her own, filling it with pot plants and books and artwork—things she’d never bothered collecting before.

Dragging her feet to the letterbox, she lifted the lid and pulled out the contents—an electricity bill and a few catalogues. How many more times would she have the privilege of collecting mail from this box? Such a simple, mundane task that people took for granted.

As she stood there, a delivery van pulled up to the kerb and the driver hopped out.

‘Delivery for Bethany Sullivan?’

She cleared her throat, though her thoughts were still a maelstrom of bitterness and negativity. ‘That’s me.’

He held out his device and, after she’d signed, handed over a thick, white envelope. ‘Have a good one,’ he said, before getting back in his van and driving away.

‘Unlikely,’ she muttered, then with her hopes of a relaxing evening shattered, she made her way inside to start scouring the real estate websites for rentals.