‘That’s a pity.’ She looked around her at the open-plan living spaces on the veranda, and she pictured paper lanterns in the garden. ‘This is a perfect house for a party, and with Ming to help with catering it would be a breeze, and so much fun.’
‘So you like parties, do you?’
‘Most parties,’ she said. ‘I sometimes have to organise them as part of my job—to help clients with networking, or to launch new products.’
As she said this Amy was hit by memories of the launch party on the night Rachel died and she felt another sickening thud, deep inside, as if her heart had crashed from a great height.
‘Amy, are you all right?’
She reached for her water glass and took a deep sip. ‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘It just catches me every so often—the pain, you know—when I think about Rachel.’
‘Yeah,’ he said softly. ‘I do know what you mean. And it lasts a long time, I’m afraid. I still miss my dad after all these years, and it’s been worse since my uncle died.’
She was surprised that Seth hadn’t mentioned mourning for Rachel, too. Surely he must feel some degree of grief for Bella’s mother?
For Amy the smallest memory of Rachel could trigger pain—Rachel’s habit of flicking her long, pale hair over her shoulders. Her deep, throaty laugh. A punchline from the zany jokes she loved to tell.
But she wasn’t prepared to share these memories with Seth. It was far safer to leave the intimate details of his history with Rachel where they belonged—firmly in the past.
Unhappily, she scooped up a spoonful of wine-drenched fruit. ‘Can you tell me more about your uncle? Did he always live here?’
Seth shook his head. ‘He started off in Sydney like the rest of my family. Moved to Cape York in his late twenties.’
‘To be a cattleman?’
‘Yeah.’ Seth smiled. ‘Left a thriving family business to become a struggling grazier.’
‘That’s intriguing.’ She dipped her spoon into the bowl. These watermelon balls were amazing. ‘What was the family business?’
‘Have you ever heard of Reardon and Grace?’
She shook her head.
‘It’s a very old importing and exporting business. My great-great-grandfather started it way back, and he owned one of the first warehouses in Sydney.’
‘Wow.’
‘All the men in my family have played a role in the firm, including my father. Seth was the first to leave.’
‘Seth? Was that your uncle’s name, too?’
‘Yes. He was my father’s younger brother.’
Amy frowned. Somehow, this information seemed significant, but she was too caught up in this story to stop and puzzle it out. ‘Why did he leave Sydney?’
Seth’s mouth twisted into a wry smile and she winced.
‘Am I being too nosy?’
‘Not really.’ His steady gaze met hers. ‘But it’s rather a sad tale.’
Unwilling to push him, she took another spoonful of her dessert.
‘You see, my uncle was madly in love,’ Seth said quietly. ‘And everything was fine until he brought his girlfriend home and introduced her to his older brother.’
‘To your father?’
He nodded. ‘He wasn’t my father then, of course. This was before I was born.’
‘But your father fell in love with the same woman as your uncle?’
‘Yes, and he married her.’
The penny dropped, making Amy gasp. ‘So this woman was your mother. Your uncle was in love with your mother.’
‘Completely and hopelessly, I’m afraid.’
‘The poor man.’
Amy could picture it all. Seth’s uncle, this other Seth Reardon, must have been so upset when he lost the woman he loved, that he’d left his comfortable life in Sydney and travelled all the way up here to try to forget her. To start a new life.
‘Did he have to start here from scratch?’ she asked.
‘More or less. It was hard work, but he took to the life like he was born and bred for it, and he soon toughened up. You know what they say? When the going gets tough, the tough get going. He pitched in with the fencing gangs. Joined in the mustering. Helped to build this house. He thrived on the life here.’
‘But he never married?’
‘No.’ Seth’s brow furrowed in a deep frown. ‘When my father died, my mother brought me here, and I think my uncle had hoped that she’d stay.’
‘But she went to America?’
‘Chasing her dream.’ His face darkened. ‘This is no life for a woman.’
‘Why couldn’t a woman live here?’ Amy asked. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘The house and garden might be beautiful,’ Seth said tersely. ‘But that’s all there is here to keep a woman happy. There are no shops or cafés. No chance for catching up with girlfriends. The nearest hairdresser is in Cairns.’
Amy wanted to disagree. She knew Serenity was remote, but she suspected that a woman could be very happy here. She would have to be the right woman, of course, with the right man.
But if the two of them loved each other deeply, if the chemistry was right, why couldn’t they be blissfully happy?
It wasn’t a question she could ask when Seth’s mother and Rachel and possibly the girl who’d broken his heart had not been prepared to stay.
Amy shivered at the thought of Seth’s loneliness, which he seemed to accept as his fate. She longed to reach out and touch him tenderly, to cup her hand against the rugged line of his jaw, to brush his lips with the pad of her thumb, to show him that she cared.
She longed to rekindle the passion of their kiss, and now, with no Ming to interrupt them, who knew where it might lead? Amy didn’t care. She wanted it, wanted him.
But that’s crazy.
Oh, God. For an insane minute there, she’d almost forgotten Rachel, Bella, her job, her family…She’d almost been ready to throw every responsibility to the four winds…in exchange for a night with Seth.
Shaking, shocked by her foolishness, she reached across the table for his empty bowl. She spoke carefully. ‘Thank you for the delicious meal. I’ll take these things through to the kitchen.’
Instantly he was on his feet. ‘No, you don’t have to worry about the kitchen. You’re a guest.’
Avoiding the fire in his gaze, she said, ‘But I haven’t performed a single helpful task since I arrived. Let me rinse these couple of bowls to keep my hand in.’
He gave her a puzzled smile. ‘If you insist.’
‘I insist,’ she said quietly but emphatically. ‘Goodnight, Seth.’ She walked away swiftly, carrying the dishes, unable to return his smile.
A noise woke Amy, a sudden flapping of wings outside her room and the haunting call of a bird, which she thought must have been an owl. She rolled over and looked through the moon-streaked darkness to Bella’s bed, hoping the sound hadn’t woken her.
Fortunately, the little girl remained very still, undisturbed. Amy rolled onto her back again and closed her eyes. She crossed her fingers, hoping she would drift back to sleep.
She