Page 17 of Lime Tree Hill

Fashioned from white gold with a large center stone and square diamonds on either side, it was a beautiful ring. Hayden had picked it himself—told her so after he’d proposed. He hadn’t wanted to announce their engagement or their plans for a wedding. It wouldbe more romantic, he’d said, to elope and tell everyone after the fact.

Now there’d be no announcement.

Now that beautiful ring would never be worn. Not by her, anyway.

Resisting the urge to try it on one last time, she closed the lid. And as she stepped out the front door and pulled it shut behind her, an unexpected wave of freedom swelled in her chest.

They’d shared their last kiss, their final goodbye, but at the time, she hadn’t realized it.

The following day, Tayla returned to Auckland on the early morning flight, leaving Sydney and Hayden and the excitable waves of Bondi Beach behind. And later that evening, as she sat with her father, she couldn’t get over how frail and vacant he seemed.

When Tayla went to bed that night, she cried into her pillow. First, for her dad as he’d been: fit and strong and proud, with a smile that didn’t stop. And then, as the enormity of the situation with the orchard hit her, she cried for herself. Things would look better in the morning, but for now, tears seemed the only way forward.

Several days later, Hayden texted his angry demands, pleading for them to meet.Why this? Why that? Why, why, why?But by then, Tayla was already back in Clifton Falls.

Already wondering what on earth she should do.

9

HAPPY RETURNS

As he stoodon the small balcony off his bedroom, a movement down by the river caught Mitch’s eye. Tayla, running along the track, her athletic upper body barely covered by a bra top, and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Initially, Simon’s suggestion of a wife for hire had seemed to hold merit. But the more Mitch thought about his loved-up sisters in London, the more he questioned his motives. Living a lie was always a bad idea, especially when it affected so many people.

As Mitch watched Tayla jog in and out of view, he recalled the afternoon they’d been officially introduced—the day after Norman passed away. She’d stood in his grandfather’s cottage, a string bag of books and groceries in one hand, her expression one of shock and disbelief as Ken broke the news of Norman’s passing. At that stage, although he’d known of her visits, he’d had no idea how much his grandfather had meant to Tayla, so the silent tears she’d quickly wiped away with the back of her hand had puzzled him.

He’d noticed her several times before that day—riding her bike through the orchard and standing behind the checkout at the supermarket where he shopped. The first time she’d served him, he’d momentarily lost himself in those hazel eyes before he’d pulled hiscredit card from his wallet and handed it to her. He remembered thinking, why would this introverted girl, fashioned in goth from head to toe, want to spend time with his ultra-conservative grandfather?

Now, years later, he found Tayla in his thoughts more and more as he pondered her detached nature, the vibrant color of her hair, those tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her delicate jawline.

Mitch turned to grab his sweatshirt off the bed, and when he looked back, Tayla had reached Norman’s cottage. She stopped and bent forward to catch her breath. After checking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, she opened the gate, climbed the half-dozen steps to the veranda, and peeked through the living room window.

“Time for a walk, boy,” Mitch called Edward to heel. The pug sat and refused to budge. “Come on, I’ll carry you halfway”—he scooped down and picked him up—“but that’s all, you lazy little pooch.”

“So, what do you think?”

Tayla’s hands flew to her chest. “Shit! You gave me a fright.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

She untied the hoodie from around her waist and shrugged it on. “I didn’t realize you were back.”

“I flew in yesterday.” He bent down and unclipped Edward’s leash.

“How was London?”

“Great. Cold, but I love it there.”

“I’ve never been, but it’s on my bucket list.” She tugged up the zipper, covering her exposed midriff, and nodded toward the pup. “What’s his name?”

“Mr. Edward.” He picked him up.

“He’s adorable. May I hold him?” She accepted the puppy and snuggled him into her chest, massaging under his ears as Mitch watched. “I’d love a pug.”

Mitch reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Feel free to pug-sit any time you want.”

“Thanks.” She put Edward down. “Anyway, I should get going. Mum said you’d refurbished the cottage. I was just curious.”

“Yeah, it’s a B&B now. Keen for a look?” Mitch unlocked the front door and instructed Edward to sit. “You spent a lot of time here when Norman was alive.”

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