Page 36 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

Her heart did a little double take. Whoa. Where had that come from? A welcoming smile shouldn’t do that to her.

‘Thanks for the invitation,’ she said, the formal words hiding the turmoil inside. ‘I brought you this.’ She held out the tin of biscuits. ‘It’s nothing much. Some homemade biscuits, that’s all.’

‘What about Digby?’ Vicki asked.

‘He’s fine.’ Talking to the child would give her a minute to gather her wits. ‘The cut is healing nicely. Another few days and you will never even know he was injured.’

‘Good.’ Satisfied at last, Vicki took the biscuit tin. ‘What sort of biscuits?’

‘Chocolate, of course.’

‘Yay.’ Vicki opened the tin. ‘Can I have one now?’

‘After dinner,’ Matt said. ‘And again, let’s give Ms Johnston a few minutes to actually come inside and take her coat off first.

Please take the biscuits to the kitchen.’ Matt took Bree’s coat and hung it behind the door. ‘She’s been very excited about your visit.’

‘That’s nice. By the way, it’s all right for her to call me Bree, if that’s okay with you.’

Matt gave her that gentle smile again, but she could see something else behind his eyes. A darkness. A question or a hurt that he was hiding.

‘It’s fine. Feel free to tell her that. And thank you for asking. Not a lot of people would do that.’

‘Of course.’ Bree suspected that might be a hint of the cause of his frown, but it was not for her to ask. She followed him into the kitchen.

It turned out that Matt, with enthusiastic assistance from Vicki, was a pretty good cook. Dinner was grilled chicken pieces with a crispy salad. Dessert was homemade fruit salad and cream. Vicki had a glass of orange juice, while the adults both opted for mineral water. Talk was mostly centred on knitting and alpacas.

‘That was wonderful,’ Bree said when they were done. ‘Thank you. Now, point me at the sink and I’ll do the washing up.’

‘No. No,’ Matt said. ‘I can’t ask you to do that.’

‘You didn’t ask. I offered. Vicki can help me.’

Thus it was that while Bree and Vicki cleared up after the meal, Matt made coffee.

‘Can we play a game please, Daddy? The one with the sheep.’

‘Bree might not want to play a game. She’s our guest, so you should ask her.’

‘Please, Bree? The game has sheep but we can pretend they are alpacas. Just for you.’

Bree looked over the little girl’s head. Matt was smiling and gently waving one hand around in a manner Bree interpreted asYoudon’t have to do this. She was about to say no when the thought struck home—she wanted to play Squatter with Matt and Vicki.

In a matter of minutes, a box appeared on the table and the game was being set up.

Vicki dispersed tiny plastic sheep, which she announced were definitely alpacas, and the game was underway.

It was fun. Plain, simple fun. Between them, Bree and Matt guided Vicki through the harder parts, and it was soon clear to Bree that whatever happened, Vicki was going to win. She winked her approval at Matt and was rewarded with an answering nod that sent a warm glow through her. This was how parents and kids were supposed to be. Spending time together. Helping each other. Sharing a meal, or a game or a plot. Something her family had never done. Her parents had been so focused on their careers, she could hardly remember a night when both of them sat down to dinner with her when she was a child. They had certainly never played board games. Or laughed together. When they talked, it had been mostly about how well she was—or was not—doing at school or uni. And after, every conversation was about work. They were a law firm, not a family.

And for the first time in her adult life, she realised something extraordinary. This was what she wanted. One day. With a child of her own. And the right man. A man who made her insides quiver, as they had earlier tonight. A man who laughed when she did. A man who wasn’t too busy to show his love for his family. A man who could accept the love that was offered to him.

A man a lot like Matt.

***

‘All right, young lady. Bedtime.’ Matt began gathering up the tiny sheep scattered over the table.

‘Aww, Daddy. Can’t I stay up a little bit longer?’

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