Second Chance with Her Soldier

He turned, looking at her intently. “What do you mean?”

His blue eyes seemed to penetrate all the way to her soul. Her heart began to gallop. She couldn’t back down now that she’d begun.

“What you said before—that I can’t bear the sight of you—it’s not true.” So not true.

“That’s the way it comes across.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

She could feel the sudden stillness in him, almost as if she’d shot him. He was staring at her, his eyes burning. With doubt?

Ellie’s eyes were stinging. She didn’t want to cry, but she could no longer see the paddocks. Her heart was racing.

She almost told Joe that she actually fancied the sight of him. Very much. Too much. That was her problem. That was why she was tense.

But it was too late for personal confessions. Way too late. Years and years too late.

Instead she said, “I know I’ve been stupidly tense … about . . . everything, but it’s certainly not because I can’t stand the sight of you.” Quite the opposite …

Second Chance

with Her Soldier

Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Reading and writing have always been a big part of BARBARA HANNAY’s life. She wrote her first short story at the age of eight for the Brownies’ writer’s badge. It was about a girl who was devastated when her family had to move from the city to the Australian Outback.

Since then, a love of both city and country lifestyles has been a continuing theme in Barbara’s books and in her life. Although she has mostly lived in cities, now that her family has grown up and she’s a full-time writer she’s enjoying a country lifestyle.

Barbara and her husband live on a misty hillside in Far North Queensland’s Atherton Tableland. When she’s not lost in the world of her stories she’s enjoying farmers’ markets, gardening clubs and writing groups, or preparing for visits from family and friends.

Barbara records her country life in her blog, Barbwired, and her website is: www.barbarahannay.com.

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

CORPORAL JOE MADDEN waited two whole days before he opened the email from his wife.

Avoidance was not Joe’s usual MO. It went against everything he’d learned in his military training. Strike swiftly was the Australian Commandos’ motto, and yet...here he was in Afghanistan, treating a rare message from Ellie as if it were more dangerous than an improvised explosive device.

Looming divorce could do that to a guy.

The fact that Joe had actually offered to divorce Ellie was irrelevant. After too many stormy years of marriage, he’d known that his suggestion was both necessary and fair, but the break-up certainly hadn’t been easy or painless.

Now, in his tiny hut in Tarin Kot, Joe scanned the two other email messages that had arrived from Australia overnight. The first was his aunt’s unhelpful reminder that she never stopped worrying about him. The other was a note from one of his brothers. This, at least, was glib and slightly crude and elicited a wry chuckle from Joe.

But he was left staring at Ellie’s as yet unopened email with its gut-churning subject heading: Crunch Time.

Joe knew exactly what this meant. The final divorce papers had arrived from their solicitor and Ellie was impatient to serve him with them.

Clearly, she was no longer prepared to wait till the end of his four years in the army, even though his reasons for suggesting the delay had been entirely practical.

Joe knew no soldier was safe in Afghanistan, and if he was killed while he and Ellie were still married, she would receive an Army widow’s full entitlements. Financially, at least, she would be OK.

Surely this was important? The worst could so easily happen here. In his frequent deployments, Joe faced daily, if not hourly, danger and he’d already lost two close mates, both of them brilliant, superbly trained soldiers. Death was a real and ever-present danger.

Joe had felt compelled to offer Ellie a safety net, so he’d been reassured to know that, whatever happened to him, she would be financially secure. But, clearly, getting out of their marriage now was more important to her than the long-term benefits.

Hell, she probably had another bloke lined up in the wings. Please, let it be anyone but that damn potato farmer her mother had hand-picked for her.

But, whatever Ellie’s reasons, the evidence of her impatience sat before Joe on the screen.

Crunch Time.

There was no point in avoiding this any longer. The coffee Joe had recently downed turned sour as he grimly clicked on the message.

* * *

It was a stinking-hot day at Karinya Station in Far North Queensland. The paddocks were parched and the cattle hungry as Ellie Madden delivered molasses to the empty troughs. The anxious beasts pushed and shoved at her, trying to knock the molasses barrel out of her hands, so of course she was as sticky and grimy as a candy bar dropped in dirt by the time she arrived back at the homestead.

Her top priority was to hit the laundry and scrub up to her elbows. That done, she strode through the kitchen, grabbed a jug of chilled water from the fridge, filled a glass and gulped it down. Taking another glassful with her to the study, she remained standing in her molasses-smeared jeans as she fired up her laptop.

Tension vibrated and buzzed inside her as the latest messages downloaded. Surely Joe would send his answer today?

She was so sick with apprehension she closed her eyes and held her breath until she heard the ping of the final message’s arrival. When she forced herself to peek at the screen again, she felt an immediate plunge of disappointment.

Nothing from Joe.

Not a word.

For fraught minutes, she stood staring at the screen, as if somehow she could will another email to appear. She hit ‘send and receive’, just to be sure.

Still nothing.

Why hadn’t he replied? What was the hold-up? Even if he’d been out on a patrol, he was usually back at camp within a day or two.

A ripple of fear trembled through her like chilling wind over water.

Surely he couldn’t have been injured? Not Joe.

The Army would have contacted her.

Don’t think about that.

Ever since her husband had joined the Army, Ellie had schooled herself to stomp on negative thoughts. She knew other Army couples had secret ‘codes’ for when they talked about anything dangerous, but she and Joe had lost that kind of closeness long ago. Now she quickly searched for a more likely explanation.

Joe was probably giving her email careful thought. After all, it would have come as a shock, and no doubt he was weighing up the pros and cons of her surprising proposal.

Wanting to reassure herself, Ellie reread the email she’d sent him, just to make sure that it still sounded reasonable.

She’d tried to put her case concisely and directly, keeping it free of emotion, which was only fitting now they’d agreed to divorce. Even so, as she read, she found herself foolishly trying to imagine how Joe would feel as her message unfolded.

Hi Joe,

I hope all is well with you.

I’m writing on a practical matter. I’ve had another invoice from the fertility clinic, you see, and so I’ve been thinking again about the frozen embryos. (Surprise, surprise.)

Joe, I know we signed that form when we started the programme, agreeing that, in the case of divorce, we would donate any of our remaining embryos to another infertile couple. But I’m sorry—I’m having misgivings about that.

I’ve given it a lot of thought, Joe. Believe me, a LOT of thought.

I’d like to believe I would be generous enough to hand over our embryos to a more deserving couple, but I can’t help thinking of those little frozen guys as MY babies.

I’ve thought around and around this, Joe, and I’ve decided that I really do want to have that one last try at IVF. I know you will probably be horrified. You’ll tell me that I’m setting myself up for another round of disappointment. I know this will come as a shock to you, and possibly a disappointment as well.

However, if by some amazing miracle I did become pregnant, I wouldn’t expect to change our plans re the divorce. I promise I wouldn’t try to use the baby to hold on to you, or anything manipulative like that.

As you know from past experience, success is EXTREMELY UNLIKELY, but I can’t go ahead with IVF without your consent and I wouldn’t want to, so obviously I’m very keen to hear your thoughts.

In the meantime, stay safe, Joe.

All the very best,

Ellie

Joe felt as if a grenade had exploded inches from his face.

I know this will come as a shock to you...

Hell, yeah. Never in a million years could he have imagined this possibility...

He’d assumed that the stressful times when he and Ellie had tried for a family were well and truly behind him.

Since he’d left Karinya Station, he hadn’t allowed himself to give a single thought to those few remaining embryos. How many were there? Two? Three?

A heavy weight pressed against his ribs now as he remembered the painful stretch of years when the IVF clinic had dominated his and Ellie’s lives. All their hopes and dreams had been pinned on the embryos. They’d even had a nickname for them.

Their sproglets.

So far, none of them had survived implantation...

The ordeal had been beyond heartbreaking.

Now... Joe had no doubt that Ellie was setting herself up for another round of bitter disappointment. And yet, for a crazy moment he almost felt hope flare inside him, the same hope that had skyrocketed and plunged and kept them on edge through those bleak years of trying.

Even now, Joe couldn’t help feeling hopeful for Ellie’s sake, although he knew that her chances of a successful pregnancy were slimmer than a hair’s breadth. And it stung him to know that she planned to go ahead this time on her own.

Truth was, he didn’t want to think about this. Not any aspect of it. He’d joined the Army to forget his stuffed-up life. Here, he had a visible, assailable enemy to keep him focused day and night.

Now Ellie was forcing him to once again contemplate fatherhood and all its responsibilities. Except, this time, it would be fatherhood in name only. She’d made it very clear that she still wanted the divorce, and Joe totally understood why. So even if there was an against-all-the-odds miracle and he found himself technically a father, his kid would never grow up under his roof.

They would be more or less strangers.

Almost as an accompaniment to this grim thought, an explosion sounded outside, too close for comfort. Through the hut’s window Joe saw bright flashes and smoke, heard frantic voices calling. Another rocket-propelled grenade had dumped—a timely reminder that danger and death were his regular companions.

There was no escaping that and, if he was honest, there was absolutely no point in going over and over this question of Ellie’s. It was a waste of time weighing up the pros and cons of his wife’s request.

Already Joe knew his answer. It was a clear no-brainer.

CHAPTER ONE

Three years later...

‘ELLIE, IT’S MUM. Do you have the television on?’

‘Television?’ Ellie’s response was incredulous. ‘Mum, I’ve just come in from the paddocks. Our dams are drying out. I’ve been wrestling with a bogged cow all afternoon and I’m covered in mud. Why? What’s on TV?’ The only show that interested Ellie these days was the weather.

‘I just saw Joe,’ her mother said.

Ellie gasped. ‘On TV?’

‘Yes, darling. On the news.’

‘He...he hasn’t been hurt?’

‘No, no, he’s fine.’ There was a dismissive note in her mother’s voice, a familiar reminder that she’d never approved of her daughter’s choice of husband and that, eventually, she’d been proved right. ‘You know he’s home for good this time?’

‘He’s already back in Australia?’

‘Yes, Ellie. His regiment or squadron or whatever it’s called has just landed in Sydney. I caught it on the early news, and there was a glimpse of Joe. Only a few seconds, mind you, but it was definitely him. And the reporter’s saying these troops won’t be going back to Afghanistan. I thought you should know.’

‘OK. Thanks.’ Ellie pressed a hand to her chest, caught out by the unexpected thud of her heart.

‘You might be able to catch the story on one of the other channels.’

‘Yes, I guess.’

Ellie was trembling as she hung up. Of course she’d heard the news reports about a staged withdrawal of Australian troops, but it was still a shock to know that Joe was already home. For good this time.

As a Commando, Joe had been on dozens of short-term missions to Afghanistan, returning each time to his Army base down in New South Wales. But now he wouldn’t be going back.

And yet he hadn’t made any kind of contact.

It showed how very far apart they’d drifted.

Almost fearfully, Ellie glanced at the silent blank TV screen in the corner of the homestead lounge room. She didn’t really have time to turn it on. She was disgustingly muddy after her tussle in the dam with the bogged cow and she needed to get out of these stinking clothes. She wasn’t even sure why she’d rushed inside to answer the phone in this filthy state, but some instinct had sent her running.

She should get changed and showered before she did anything else. She wouldn’t even look for Nina and Jacko until she was clean.

But, even as she told herself what she should do, Ellie picked up the remote. More than one channel would cover the return.

It took a few seconds of scrolling before she found a scene at Mascot Airport and a journalist’s voiceover reporting an emotional welcome for the returning troops.

The screen showed the airport crowded with soldiers in uniform, hugging their wives and lifting their children high, their tanned, lean faces lit by unmistakable excitement and emotion.

Tears and happy smiles abounded. A grinning young man was awkwardly holding a tiny baby. A little girl hugged her daddy’s khaki-clad knee, trying to catch his attention while he kissed her mother.

Ellie’s throat ached. The scene was crammed with images of family joy. Tears pricked her eyes and she wondered where Joe was.

And then she saw him.

The man who would soon be her ex.

At the back of the crowd. Grim-faced. He was skirting the scenes of elated families, as if he was trying to keep out of camera range while he made his way purposefully to the exit.

He looked so alone.

With his green Commando’s beret set rakishly on his short dark hair, Joe looked so tall and soldierly. Handsome, of course. But, compared with his laughing, happy comrades, he also looked very severe. And so very alone.

Ellie’s mouth twisted out of shape. Tears spilled. She didn’t know why—she simply couldn’t help it.

Then the camera shifted to a politician who’d arrived to welcome the troops.

Quickly, she snapped the remote and the images vanished.

She let out her breath in a despairing huff. She felt shaken at seeing Joe again after so long. To her dismay, it had been more like a horse kick to her heart.

She drew a deeper calming breath, knowing she had to set unhelpful sentimentality aside. She’d been braced for Joe’s return and she’d known what was required.

Their divorce would be finalised now and it was time to be sensible and stoic. She knew very well there was no prospect of a happy reunion. She and Joe had made each other too miserable for too long. If she was honest, she wasn’t surprised that Joe hadn’t bothered to tell her his deployment was over. She didn’t mind really.

But she did mind that he hadn’t even asked to see Jacko.

* * *

Joe stood at the motel window on Sydney’s Coogee Beach, looking out at an idyllic moonlit scene of sea cliffs and rolling surf.

So, it was over. He was home—finally, permanently. On the long flight back from Afghanistan he’d been dreaming of this arrival.

For most Australians, December meant the beginning of the long summer holidays and Joe had looked forward to downing a cold beer at sunset in a bar overlooking the beach, and sitting on the sand, eating hot, crunchy fish and chips straight from the paper they were wrapped in, throwing the scraps to the seagulls.

This evening he’d done all of these things, but the expected sense of joy and relaxation hadn’t followed. Everything had felt strangely unreal.

It was unsettling, especially as his Commando training had taught him to adapt quickly to different environments and to respond effectively to any challenges.

Now he was home, in the safest and most welcoming of environments, and yet he felt detached and disconnected, as if he was standing on the outside, watching some stranger trying to enjoy himself.

Of course, he knew that the transition to civilian life would be tricky after years of strict training and dangerous combat. At least he’d been prepared for the Happy Family scenes at the airport today, but once he’d escaped those jubilant reunions he’d expected to be fine.

Instead he felt numb and deflated, as if nothing about this new life was real.

He stared at the crescent of pale sand below, silvery in the moonlight, at the rolling breakers and white foam spraying against the dark, rocky cliffs, and he half-wished he had new orders to obey and a dangerous mission to fulfil.

When his phone buzzed, he didn’t have the heart to answer it but, out of habit, he checked the caller ID.

It was Ellie.

His gut tightened.

He hadn’t expected her to call so soon, but perhaps she’d seen the TV news and she knew he was back in Sydney. No doubt she wanted to talk, to make arrangements.

His breathing went shallow as hope and dread warred inside him. Was he ready for this conversation?

It was tempting to let her call go through to voicemail, to see what she had to say and respond later. But in the last half-second he gave in. He swallowed to clear his throat. ‘Hi, Ellie.’

‘Oh? Hello, Joe.’

They’d spoken a handful of times in the past three years.

‘How are you?’ Joe grimaced, knowing how awkward he sounded. ‘How’s the kid?’

‘We’re both really well, thanks. Jacko’s growing so fast. How are you?’

What could he say? ‘Fine. Home in one piece.’

‘It must be wonderful to be back in Australia for good,’ she said warmly.

‘Yeah, I guess.’ Too late he realised he should have sounded more enthusiastic.

‘I...ah...’ Now, it was Ellie who seemed to be floundering for words.

They weren’t good at this. How could they be? An unhappy silence ticked by.

‘I hear you’ve had a very dry year up north,’ Joe said, clumsily picking up the ball.

‘We have, but the weather bureau’s predicting a decent wet season.’

‘Well, that’s good news.’

Joe pictured Karinya, the Far North Queensland cattle station that he and Ellie had leased and set up together when they’d first been married and afloat on love and hope and a thousand happy dreams. In his mind’s eye, he could see the red dirt of the inland and the pale, sparse grass dotted with cattle, the rocky ridges and winding creeks. The wide blue overarching sky.

When they’d split, Ellie had stubbornly insisted on staying up there and running the place on her own. Even when the much-longed-for baby had arrived she’d stayed on, hiring a manager at first while she was pregnant, and then a nanny to help with the baby while Ellie continued to look after the cattle business as well as her son.

His son. Their son.

‘Joe, I assume you want to see Jacko,’ Ellie said quickly.

He gritted his teeth against the sudden whack of emotion. There’d been opportunities to visit North Queensland between his many missions, but he’d only seen their miracle baby once. He’d flown to Townsville and Ellie had driven in to the coast from Karinya. They’d spent an awkward afternoon in a park on Townsville’s Strand and Joe had a photo in his wallet to prove it.

Now the kid was two years old.

‘Of course I’d like to see Jacko,’ he said cautiously. How could a father not want to see his own son? ‘Are you planning to come in to Townsville again?’

‘I’m sorry, Joe, I can’t. It’s more or less impossible for me to get away just now. You know what it’s like in December. It’s calving time, and I’m busy with keeping supplements and water up to the herd. And Nina—that’s the nanny—wants to take her holidays. She’d like to go home to Cairns for Christmas, and that’s understandable, so I’m trying to manage here on my own. I...um...thought you might be able to come out here.’

Joe’s jaw tightened. ‘To the homestead?’

‘Yes.’

His brow furrowed. ‘But even if I fly to Townsville, I wouldn’t be able to make it out to Karinya and back again in a day.’

‘Yes, I know...you’d have to stay overnight. There...there’s a spare bed. You could have Nina’s room.’

Whoa.

Joe flinched as if he’d been hit by a sniper. He held the phone away at arm’s length as he dragged a shaky breath. He’d been steeling himself for the heart slug of another meeting with his son, but he’d always imagined another half hour in Townsville—a handover of gifts, maybe a walk in the park and another photo of himself with the kid, a memory to treasure.

Get it over, and then goodbye.

He wasn’t sure he was prepared to stay at Karinya, spending all that time with young Jacko, as Ellie called him, spending a night there as well.

That had to be a bad idea.

Crazy.

‘Joe, are you still there?’

‘Yeah.’ The effort to sound cool and calm made him grimace. ‘Ellie, I’m not sure about going out there.’

‘What do you mean? You do want to see your little boy, don’t you?’

The hurt in her voice was crystal freaking clear.

‘I...I do... Sure, of course I want to see him.’

‘I thought you’d want to at least give him a Christmas present, Joe. He’s old enough now to understand about presents.’

Joe sighed.

‘But if you’d rather not...’ Her voice was frosty now, reminding him of the chill factor that had caused him so much angst in the past.

‘Look, I just got back. I’m jet-lagged, and there’s all kinds of stuff to sort out here.’ It wasn’t totally the truth and Ellie probably guessed he was stalling.

‘You and I have things to sort out, too.’

Joe drew a sharp breath. ‘Do you have the papers from the solicitor?’

‘All ready and waiting.’

‘OK.’ He felt the cold steel of a knife at his throat. ‘Can I call you in the morning?’

By then he’d hopefully have his head together.

‘Sure, Joe. Whatever.’ Again, he heard the iciness that had plunged their once burning passion to below freezing point.

‘Thanks for the call, Ellie.’ With an effort he managed to sound non-combative, aware they were already falling into the old patterns that had eroded their marriage—constantly upsetting each other and then trying to placate, and then upsetting each other yet again. ‘And thanks for the invitation.’