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She didn’t feel guilty about putting the ‘Back in Ten Minutes’ sign up on the bookshop door—Ida had quite a collection of signs, covering all contingencies. It was hot and stuffy inside Bay Books and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
And she wanted to see Ben again, to be reassured that loving him would be enough.
* * *
Ben was stunned to see Sandy coming towards Reception with a little girl. The child was clutching one of Bay Books’ brown paper bags with one hand and holding on tight to Sandy’s hand with the other. All the while she kept up a steady stream of childish chatter and Sandy looked down to reply, her face tender and her eyes warm with love.
That newly tuned engine of his heart spluttered and stalled at the sight. It looked natural and right to see Sandy hand in hand with a child. The little girl might be her daughter.
Anguish tore through him. Liam would have been around the same age if he’d lived. He could not go there. Getting past what would have been Liam’s first birthday had seen him alone in his room with a bottle of bourbon. The other anniversaries had been only marginally better.
Sandy caught sight of him and greeted him with a big smile. Was he imagining that it didn’t reach her eyes? He forced himself to smile back, to act as though the sight of her with a child had not affected him.
He pulled her into a big hug. His need to keep their relationship private from the gossiping eyes of Dolphin Bay was in the past. He’d been warmed and gratified by the good wishes he’d been given since the night of the Chamber of Commerce dance. He hadn’t realised just how concerned his family and friends had been about him.
‘This is my niece, Amy,’ Sandy said. ‘Amy, this is my friend Ben.’
Ben hunkered down to Amy’s height. ‘Hi, Amy. Welcome to Dolphin Bay.’
‘I like dolphins,’ Amy said. ‘They smile. I like crocodiles too. I’ve got a new crocodile book.’ She thrust the brown paper bag towards him.
‘That’s good,’ Ben said awkwardly. He was out of practice with children. Hadn’t been able to deal with them since he’d lost Liam.
Sandy rescued him from further stilted conversation. ‘Do you remember my sister, Lizzie?’ she asked, indicating the tall blonde woman who had joined them.
‘Of course I remember you, Lizzie,’ he said as he shook hands. Though, truth be told, back then he’d been so caught up with Sandy he’d scarcely noticed Lizzie, attractive though she was.
‘Who would have thought I’d see you two together again after all these years?’ said Lizzie.
‘Yes,’ he said.
He looked down at Sandy and she smiled up at him.
‘Can we book Lizzie and Amy into a room with a water view?’ she asked.
We. She’d said ‘we’. And he wasn’t freaked out by it as much as he’d thought he would be. In fact he kind of liked it.
He put his arm around her and held her close. She clutched onto him with a ferocity that both pleased and worried him. There was that shadow again around her eyes. What gave?
He booked Lizzie and Amy into the room adjoining Sandy’s, talking over their protests when he told them that the room was on the house.
‘Dinner tonight at the hotel?’ he asked, including Lizzie and Amy in the invitation.
Sandy nodded. ‘Yes, please—for all of us. Though it will have to be early because of Amy’s bedtime.’
‘I’m good with that.’
The sooner Lizzie and Amy were settled in their room, the sooner he could be alone with Sandy. Their time together was ticking down.
Lizzie glanced at her watch. ‘We have to get to the zoo.’ She took Amy’s book and packed it in her bag. ‘C’mon, Amy, quick-sticks.’
Amy indicated for Sandy to pick her up and Sandy obliged. She embraced Sandy in a fierce hug.
‘I’ll bring you a white lion, Auntie Ex,’ she said.
Auntie Ex? Ben was about to ask for an explanation of the name when Amy leaned over from her position in Sandy’s arms and put her arms up to be hugged by him.
‘Bye-bye, Ben,’ she said. ‘Do you want a white lion, too?’
Ben froze. He hadn’t held a child since he’d last held Liam. But Amy’s little hands were resting on his shoulders, her face close to his. For a moment it was the three of them. A man. A woman. A child.
He panicked. Had to force himself not to shake. He looked to Sandy over the little girl’s blonde head. Connected with her eyes, both sad and compassionate.
He cleared his throat and managed to pat the little girl gently on the back. ‘A white lion would be great—thanks, Amy.’
‘A girl one or a boy one?’ Amy asked.
Ben choked out the words. ‘A...a boy one, please.’
‘Okay,’ she said, and wiggled for Sandy to put her down.
Amy ran over to her mother.
‘How are you going to get the white lions back here, Amy?’ asked Sandy.
‘In the back of the car, of course, silly,’ Amy replied.
The adults laughed, which broke the tension. But Ben was still shaken by the emotion that had overtaken him when he’d stood, frozen, in that group hug with Sandy and Amy. And he couldn’t help but notice how Sandy’s eyes never left her delightful little niece. There was more than being a doting aunt in her gaze.
‘Okay, guys, I have to get back to the bookshop,’ Sandy said. She hugged Amy and Lizzie. Then turned to him and hugged him. ‘I’m going to stay back for a little while after I shut up shop and flick through Ida’s files. I’ll see you for dinner.’
He tightened his arms around her. Something was bothering her—and that bothered him. ‘Don’t be too long,’ he said, wanting to urge her to stay.
Lizzie and Amy headed for their car. Ben watched Sandy as she walked through the door. Her steps were too slow, her head bowed. She seemed suddenly alone, her orange dress a flash of colour in the monochrome decor of the reception area.
Was she thinking about how much she’d miss Lizzie and Amy if she settled in Dolphin Bay?
He suspected it was more than that.
Sandy had accepted his reasons for not wanting to risk having another child. But he’d seen raw longing in her eyes when she’d been with Amy.
When she was eighteen she’d chattered on that she wanted three kids. He’d thought two was enough—but he hadn’t argued about wanting to be a parent. Fatherhood had been on his future agenda, too.
The ever-present pain knifed deeper. Being father to Liam had been everything he’d wanted and more. He’d loved every minute of his son’s babyhood.
He took in a deep, shuddering breath. By denying Sandy her chance to be a mother he could lose her. If not now, then later.
It might make her wave goodbye and leave for Melbourne on Wednesday, never to return to Dolphin Bay. Or, if she decided to stay with him, she might come to resent him. Blame him for the ache in her heart that only a baby could soothe.
Could he let that happen?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Sandy trudged towards the hospital entrance. Fed up with the muggy atmosphere in Bay Books, and the rattling, useless air-conditioner, she’d shut up shop on the dot of five o’clock. To heck with going through more of Ida’s files. She’d talk to Ida in person.
Whether or not she’d be able to have a sensible business conversation was debatable. She was too churned up with anxiety about the reality that a long-term relationship with Ben meant giving up her dream of having children. She tried summoning the techniques Ben had taught her to overcome her fear of monster waves but without any luck.
Her anxiety was like a dark shadow, diminishing the brilliance of her rediscovered love for Ben. Even memories of their heavenly lovemaking the night before, the joy of waking again in his arms, was not enough.
It felt like that long-ago summer day when she had been snorkelling with Ben at Big Ray Beach, out in the calm waters of the headland. It had been a perfect day, the sun shimmering through the water to the white sand beneath them, illuminating shoals of brightly coloured little fish darting in and out of the rocks. She and Ben had dived to follow some particularly cute orange and white clown fish.
Then suddenly everything had gone dark. Terrified, she’d gripped Ben’s arm. He’d pointed upwards and she’d seen one of the big black manta rays that had given its name to the beach swim directly above them. She’d panicked, thinking she didn’t have enough air to swim around it and up to the surface. But the ray had cruised along surprisingly quickly and she and Ben had been in sunshine again. They’d burst through to the top, spluttering and laughing and hugging each other.
Right now she felt the way she had when the light had been suddenly cut off.
She couldn’t ignore Ben’s stricken reaction when Amy had reached out to him yesterday. Her niece was discerning when it came to the adults she liked. She’d obviously picked Ben as a good guy and homed in like a heat-seeking missile. But all it had done was bring back painful memories for Ben.
If Sandy had held on to any remnant of hope that Ben might change his mind about having a child she’d lost it when she’d seen the fear and panic in his eyes.
And it hadn’t got any better during dinner. She’d seen what an enormous effort it had been for Ben to take part in Amy’s childish conversation. Amy, bless her, hadn’t noticed. Her little niece had been too pleased she’d managed to get a toy girl white lion for her Auntie Ex and a boy one for Ben.
It must be so painful for Ben to endure—every child he encountered a reminder to him of what he had lost.
But it was painful for her, too, to know that Amy would be the only child she would ever have to love if she and Ben became a long-term couple.
Could she really do this? Put all her hopes of a family aside?
Would she be doomed to spend the next ten years or so hoping Ben might change his mind? Counting down the fertile years she had left? Becoming embittered and resentful?
She loved Ben; she didn’t want to grow to hate him.
If she had any thought that her relationship with Ben might founder over the children issue should she think seriously of breaking it off now, to save them both future pain? Her heart shrivelled to a hard, painful knot at the thought of leaving him.
She couldn’t mention her fears to Lizzie—now back home in Sydney. Lizzie would tell her to run, not walk, away from Dolphin Bay. Her sister had often said giving birth to Amy was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wouldn’t want Sandy to miss out on motherhood.
Ben’s decision not to have more children really could be a deal-breaker. Tomorrow was Wednesday and their future beyond tonight had become the elephant in the room. No. Not just an elephant but a giant-sized woolly mammoth.
As she neared the big glass doors of the hospital entrance she knew she had to tell Ida to take her out of the Bay Books equation. She couldn’t consider her offer while she had any doubt at all about staying in Dolphin Bay.
But almost as soon as she was inside the hospital doors she was waylaid by the bank manager’s wife, a hospital administrator, who wanted to chat.
By the time she got to Ida’s bedside it was to find Ben’s aunt in a highly agitated state.
‘Why haven’t you answered your mobile? There’s smoke pouring out of Bay Books. Ben’s there, investigating.’
* * *
It was nothing Ben could put his finger on, but he could swear Sandy had distanced herself from him last night. Especially through that awkward dinner. At any time he’d expected outspoken Lizzie to demand to know what his intentions were towards Sandy. And Sandy’s obvious deep love for Amy had made him question again the fairness of depriving her of her own children.
But tomorrow was Wednesday. He had to talk with Sandy about her expectations—and his—if they were to go beyond these four awesome days.
She wasn’t picking up her mobile. Seeing her would be better. He headed to Bay Books.
Ben smelled the smoke before he saw it—pungent, acrid, burning the back of his throat. Sweat broke out on his forehead, dampened his shirt to his back. His legs felt like lead weights. Terror seized his gut.
Sandy. Was she in there?
He was plunged back into the nightmare of the guesthouse fire. The flames. The doorknob searing the flesh of his hands. His voice raw from screaming Jodi’s name.
His heart thudded so hard it made him breathless. He forced his paralysed legs to run down the laneway at the side of the shop, around to the back entrance. Dark grey smoke billowed out through a broken pane in the back window.
The wooden carvings. The books. So much fuel for the fire. A potential inferno.
Sandy could be sprawled on the floor. Injured. Asphyxiated. He had to go in. Find her.
Save her.
He shrugged off his jacket, used it to cover his face, leaving only a slit for his eyes. He pushed in his key to the back door and shoved. The door gave. He plunged into the smoke.
‘Sandy!’ he screamed until his voice was hoarse.
No response.
Straight away he saw the source of the smoke. The old air-conditioning unit on the wall that Ida had refused to let him replace. Smouldering, distorted by heat, but as yet with no visible flames.
The smoke appeared to be contained in the small back area.
But no Sandy.
Heart in his mouth, he shouldered open the door that led through into the shop. No smoke or flames.
No Sandy there either.
All the old pain he’d thought he’d got under control gripped him so hard he doubled over. What if it had been a different story and Sandy had died? By opening up to Sandy he’d exposed himself again to the agony of loss.
He fought against the thought that made him wish Sandy had never driven so blithely back into Dolphin Bay. Making him question the safe half-life that had protected him for so long.
Like prison gates clanging shut, the old barriers against pain and loss and anguish slammed back into place. He felt numb, drained.
How could he have thought he could deal with loving another woman?
A high-pitched pop song ringtone rang out, startling him. It was so out of place in this place of near disaster. He grabbed Sandy’s mobile phone from next to the register and shoved it in his pocket without answering it. Why the hell didn’t she have it with her?
He headed back to the smouldering air-conditioning unit, grabbed the fire extinguisher canister from the nearby wall bracket and sprayed fire retardant all over it.
Then he staggered out into the car park behind the shop.
He coughed and spluttered and gulped in huge breaths of fresh air.
And then Sandy was there, her face anguished and wet with tears.
‘Ben. Thank heaven. Ben.’
* * *
Sandy never wanted to experience again the torment of the last ten minutes. All sorts of hideous scenarios had played over and over in her head.
She scarcely remembered how she’d got from the hospital to Bay Books, her heart pounding with terror, to find horrible black smoke and Ben inside the shop.
But Ben was safe.
His face was drawn and stark and smeared with soot. His clothes were filthy and he stank of acrid smoke. But she didn’t care. She flung herself into his arms. Pressed herself to his big, solid, blessedly alive body. Rejoiced in the pounding of his heart, the reassuring rise and fall of his chest as he gulped in clean air.
‘You’re okay...’ That was all she could choke out.
He held her so tightly she thought he would bruise her ribs.
‘It wasn’t as bad as it looked. There’s just smoke damage out the back. It didn’t reach the books.’
He coughed. Dear heaven, had the smoke burned his throat?
Relief that he was alive morphed into anger that he’d put himself in such danger. She pulled back and pounded on his chest with her fists. ‘Why did you go in there? Why take the risk? Ida must have insurance. All that wood, all that paper... If it had ignited you could have been killed.’ Her voice hiccupped and she dissolved into tears again.
He caught her wrists with his damaged hands. ‘Because I thought you were in there.’
She stilled. ‘Me?’
‘You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.’
The implication of his words slammed into her like the kind of fast, hard wave that knocked you down, leaving you to tumble over and over in the surf. His wife and son had been trapped inside a fire-ravaged building. What cruel fate had forced him to face such a scenario again? Suffer the fear that someone he cared for was inside?
She sniffed back her tears so she was able to speak. ‘I’d gone to visit Ida. To talk...to talk business with her.’ And to mull over what a future without kids might mean. ‘I’m so sorry. It was my fault you—’
‘It was my choice to go in there. I had to.’
His grip on her hands was so tight it hurt.
‘All I could think about was how it would be if I lost you.’
He let go her hands and stepped back.
Something was wrong with this scenario. His eyes, bluer than ever in the dark, smoke-dirtied frame of his face, were tense and unreadable. He fisted his hands by his sides.
She felt her stomach sink low with trepidation. ‘But you didn’t lose me, Ben. I’m here. I’m fine.’
‘But what if you hadn’t been? What if—?’
She fought to control the tremor in her voice. ‘I thought we’d decided not to play the “what-if?” game.’
Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. ‘It was a shock.’
She heard the distant wail of a fire engine and was aware of people gathering at a distance from the shop.
Ben waved and called over to them. ‘Nothing to worry about. Just smoke—no fire.’
He wiped his hand over his face in a gesture of weariness and resignation that tore at her. A dark smear of soot swept right across his cheek.
‘Sandy, I need to let the fire department know they’re not needed. Then go get cleaned up.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said immediately.
This could be their last evening together.
He hesitated for just a second too long. ‘Why don’t you go back to the hotel and I’ll meet you there?’ he said.
One step forward and two steps back? Try ten steps forward and a hundred steps back.
‘Sure,’ she said, forcing the fear out of her voice.
He went to drop a kiss on her cheek but she averted it so the kiss landed on her mouth. She wound her arms around his neck, clung to him, willing him with her kiss to know how much she cared for him. How much she wanted it to work out.
‘Woo-hoo! Why don’t you guys get a room?’
The call—friendly, well-meant—came from one of the onlookers. She laughed, but Ben glared. She dropped her arms; he turned away.
So she wasn’t imagining the change in him.
She forced her voice to sound Sunny-Sandy-positive. ‘Okay. So I’ll see you back at the hotel.’
She headed back towards Hotel Harbourside, disorientated by a haunting sense of dread.
* * *
Ben hated the confusion and hurt on Sandy’s face. Hated that he was the cause of it. But he felt paralysed by the fear of losing her. He needed time to think without her distracting presence.
Thanks to this special woman he’d come a long way in the last few days. But what came next? Sandy deserved commitment. Certainty. But there were big issues to consider. Most of all the make-or-break question of children. He’d been used to managing only his own life. Now Sandy was here. And she’d want answers.
Answers he wasn’t sure he could give right now.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SANDY WAS JUST about to turn in to the hotel entrance when she stopped. It wasn’t exactly anger towards Ben that made her pause. More annoyance that she was letting herself tiptoe around vital issues she and Ben needed to sort out if they were to have any hope of a future together.
Ben needed to be treated with care and consideration for what he’d been through. But she had to consider her own needs, too. Decision time was looming. If she was to go to Melbourne and interview for the candle shop franchise she had to leave here by the latest tomorrow morning.
She turned right back around and headed down the steps to the beach.
The heat was still oppressive, the sand still warm. At this time of year it wouldn’t get dark until nearly nine.
Before the sun set she needed answers.
She found Ben sitting on the wooden dock that led out from the boathouse into the waters of the bay. His broad shoulders were hunched as he looked out towards the breakwater.
Without a word she sat down beside him. Took his hand in hers. In response, he squeezed it tight. They sat in silence. Her. Ben. And that darn woolly mammoth neither of them seemed capable of addressing.
Beyond the breakwater a large cargo ship traversed the horizon. Inside the harbour walls people were rowing dinghies to shore from where their boats were anchored. A large seagull landed on the end pier and water slapped against the supporting posts of the dock.
She took a deep breath. ‘Ida wants to sell me Bay Books.’
‘Is that what you want?’ His gaze was intent, the set of his mouth serious.
She met his gaze with equal intensity. ‘I want to run my own business. I think I could make the bookshop work even better than it already does. But you’re the only reason for me to stay in Dolphin Bay.’
‘An important decision like that should be made on its own merits.’
‘The bookshop proposition’s main merit is that it allows me to stay here with you.’ Time to vanquish that mammoth. ‘We have to talk about where we go from here.’
His voice matched the bleakness of his face. ‘I don’t know that I can give you what you want.’
‘I want you, Ben. Surely you know that.’
‘I want you too. More than you can imagine. If it wasn’t for...for other considerations I’d ask you to stay. Tell you to phone that candle guy and cancel your interview in Melbourne. But...but it’s not that straightforward.’
‘What other considerations?’ she asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.
He cleared his throat. ‘I saw how you were with Amy.’
‘You mean how I dote on her?’
He nodded. ‘You were meant to be a mother, Sandy. Even when you were eighteen you wanted to have kids.’
‘Two girls and a boy,’ she whispered, the phrase now a desolate echo.
‘I can’t endure loss like that again. Today brought it all back.’
She wanted to shake him. Ben was smart, educated, an astute businessman. Why did he continue to run away from life? From love.
‘I appreciate your loss. The pain you’ve gone through. But haven’t you punished yourself enough for what happened?’
He made an inarticulate response and she knew she had hurt him. But this had been bottled up for too long.’
‘Can’t you see that any pleasure involves possible pain? Any gain possible risk. Are you never going to risk having your heart broken again?’
His face was ashen under his tan. ‘It’s too soon.’
‘Do you think you’ll ever change your mind about children?’
She held her breath in anticipation of his answer.
‘Since you’ve been back I’ve thought about it. But four days isn’t long enough for me to backtrack on something so important.’
Deep down she knew he was only giving voice to what she already knew. She wanted Ben. She wanted children. But she couldn’t have both.
Slowly she exhaled her breath in a huge sigh. ‘I can take that as a no then. But, Ben, you’re only thirty-one. Too young to be shutting down your life.’
His jaw set in a stubborn line. ‘It wouldn’t be fair for me to promise something I can’t deliver.’
‘I...I understand.’ But she didn’t. Not really.
She shifted. The hard boards of the dock were getting uncomfortable.
‘And I appreciate your honesty.’
His gaze was shrewd. ‘But it’s not good enough for you?’
She shook her head. ‘No. It’s not.’
Now she felt the floodgates were open. ‘It was compromise all the way with Jason. I wanted marriage and kids. He said he had to get used to the idea. I moved in with him when I didn’t want to live together without being married. Fine for other people. Too insecure for me. But I went along with him, put my own needs on hold.’ Her attempt at laughter came out sharp-edged and brittle. ‘Now I hear he’s not only married, but his wife is pregnant.’