She shouldn’t go.
He couldn’t really want her to tag along.
‘Bonnie and Gail have the shop under control,’ Mac said from the doorway. ‘Go on the picnic, Jaz, it’ll do you good.’
Three sets of eyes watched her expectantly. ‘I…’ Exhilaration raced through her veins. ‘I think a picnic sounds perfect.’
‘Good.’
If anything, Connor’s eyes grew warmer.
Oh, dear Lord. What had she just agreed to?
Melly struggled out of her father’s arms to throw her arms around Jaz’s middle. ‘Yay! Thank you.’
She smoothed Melly’s hair back behind her ears. ‘No, sweetheart, thank you for inviting me along. It’ll be a real treat.’
She glanced up at Connor and for some reason her tongue tried to stick fast to the roof of her mouth. ‘I’ll…umm…just go grab my things.’
In the end, Melly decided it was too far to go to the botanic gardens and chose a picnic spot near Katoomba Cascades instead. Jaz couldn’t remember a time when egg-and-lettuce sandwiches or apple turnovers had tasted so good.
After they’d eaten, they walked down to the cascades. The day was still and clear and cool. Jaz drank in the scenery like a starving woman. She hadn’t forgotten how beautiful the mountains were, but her recollections had been overshadowed by… other memories.
Melly’s chatter subsided abruptly when they returned to the picnic area. She stared at the children playing in the playground—two swings, a tiny fort with a climbing frame and a slippery dip—and the hunger in her face made Jaz’s heart twist.
Melly swung around, her gaze spearing straight to Jaz’s, a question in her eyes that brought Jaz’s childhood crashing back—the crippling shyness… the crippling loneliness.
She made herself smile, nodded towards the playground. ‘Why don’t you go over and make friends?’ Then she remembered Connor. Not that she’d ever forgotten him. ‘We don’t have to go home yet, do we?’
‘This is Princess Melly day.’ He spread his arms as if that said it all.
Jaz wished he hadn’t spread his arms quite so wide or in that particular fashion. If she took just one step towards him she’d find herself encompassed by those arms.
A small hand slipped inside Jaz’s, hauling her back. Melly stared up at her with such trust in her autumn-tinted eyes—eyes the spitting image of Connor’s—that it stole her breath.
‘But what do I say?’ Melly whispered.
Jaz dropped her duffel bag to the grass and knelt down beside Melly. She took a second look at the children playing in the playground. Tourists. ‘I think you should go over and say: Hello, I’m Melly and I live near here. Where do you live? And then…’ Jaz racked her brain. She remembered her own childhood. She could sense Connor watching them intently, but she did what she could to ignore him for the moment. ‘Remember that story we read— was it Tuesday or Wednesday? The one with the wood sprites and the water nymphs.’
Melly nodded.
‘Well, perhaps you could tell them about the wood sprites and water nymphs that live in the Katoomba Cascades.’ She nodded her head in the direction of the cascades. ‘I’m sure they’d love to hear about that.’
Melly’s face lit up. ‘Can I go play, Daddy?’
He spread his arms again. It made Jaz gulp. ‘Is your name Princess Melly?’
Melly giggled and raced off.
Connor lowered himself to the grass beside Jaz, stretched out on his side. ‘Thank you.’
‘I…’ Her tongue had gone and glued itself to the roof of her mouth again.
‘You said exactly the right thing.’ He frowned. ‘How’d you do that?’
Her tongue unglued itself. ‘Why, what would you have said?’
‘I’d have probably told her to just play it by ear.’
Jaz shook her head. ‘I remember what it was like to be Melanie’s age…and shy. I’d have wanted some clear instructions or suggestions about how to get the initial conversation started. You can play it by ear after that.’
Connor watched Melly. ‘It seems to be working.’
Warmth wormed through her. ‘I’m glad. She’s a delightful little girl, Connor. You must be very proud of her.’
He glanced up at her. ‘I am.’
She gripped her hands together. ‘I’m sorry I came along today,’ she blurted out. But it was partly his fault. He’d caught her at a weak moment.
He shot up into a sitting position. ‘Why?’ he barked. ‘Haven’t you had a nice time?’
‘Yes, of course, but…’ She stared back at him helplessly. ‘But you didn’t want me as part of Melly’s life, remember? I was supposed to keep my distance.’ She lifted her hands, then let them fall back to her lap. ‘But I didn’t know how to say no to her.’ She glared. ‘And you didn’t help.’
She didn’t know if it was a grimace or a smile that twisted his lips. ‘She wanted you to come along so badly. I didn’t know how to say no to her either.’
What about him? Had he really wanted her to come along?
She halted that thought in its tracks. She didn’t care what Connor wanted.
‘I seem to recall you saying you didn’t want me as part of your life either.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘That was just me wanting to say something mean back to you.’ It had been about erecting defences.
‘It wasn’t mean. It was you telling the truth, wasn’t it?’
She had no intention of letting him breach those defences. ‘Yes.’ She pulled in a breath. ‘There’s a lot of history between us, Connor.’
He nodded.
‘And I have no intention of revisiting it.’
‘History never repeats?’ he asked.
‘Something like that.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re right.’ He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes on Melly. ‘It doesn’t mean you and Mel can’t be friends, though, does it?’
She blinked. ‘But you didn’t want me to…’
‘For better or worse, Melly likes you, she identifies with you.’ He met her gaze head-on. ‘But can you promise me that you won’t leave again the way you did the last time?’
‘Yes, I can promise that.’ She’d grown up since those days. ‘It’s funny, you know, but it’s nice to be back.’ She gestured to the view spread out before them. ‘I’ve missed all this. When I do get the bookshop back on its feet, I mean to come back for visits.’
She’d promised Gwen.
She’d promise Melly too.
‘I have no intention of hurting your little girl, Connor.’
‘I know that.’
She turned and stared back out at the view.
THE hunger in Jaz’s face as she stared out over the valley made Connor’s gut clench.
This