Breaking The Drought (22 page)

Luke shook his head. ‘It wasn't like that. We just…I don't know. I can't explain. That day, everything was broken and now…now the only thing I can think about is making Maggie's life the best it can possibly be.'

What could she say to that? How could she argue that anything else should take precedence over the welfare of a grieving widow? If he couldn't make it work with a woman he had been engaged to then what hope did she have of edging her way into his life? The thing to do would be to nod and smile gracefully and to tell him she understood, that she forgave him and that they could be friends.

She wished that were true.

But this new information about a lost love had caused an ugly jealous fire to burn in the pit of her stomach and she wasn't going to let him off that easily. She needed to know more about this woman Luke had loved enough to want to marry.

‘You didn't try to reconcile with…Nicola?' Luke's fiancée's name felt foreign on her tongue.

He shook his head.

She took a deep breath. ‘What's she like?'

‘Nic?' He shrugged. ‘She's… I don't know what to tell you.'

Jenna waited for more. An explanation of what had happened between them, but Luke sat silently staring into space. Apparently he couldn't bring himself to talk about his former lover.

So not only was his soul damaged from the loss of his family, he was broken-hearted at the loss of his relationship.

He loved another woman.

What a fool she'd been to imagine, even for a second, that they had a future together. She was just a distraction, a momentary diversion from the pain in his life. And what was worse was he'd told her that right from the very beginning. She was just too caught up in her own stupid fantasy to believe him.

They sat in silence again. Jenna sipped her tea in an attempt to hide her burning humiliation while Luke seemed to inwardly debate what to say next.

Eventually he said, ‘I don't expect you to understand how I feel. I just wanted to explain my actions to you. I don't want you to think yesterday meant nothing to me, because it did. What happened between us was beautiful, Jenna. You made me feel whole for the first time since the accident. But when you said that you loved me…'

Jenna felt herself colouring at the memory of her disclosure. Why the hell had she admitted to loving him? It just made all of this so much worse. ‘Luke, I didn't mean — '

He waved away her denial. ‘Please don't be embarrassed, or think that I didn't want to hear that. Honestly, I wish things could be different between us, but they can't. When I heard those words I knew that I'd done the wrong thing by you, because I can't let myself love you, Jenna. I just can't. I've already failed everyone I've ever really cared about and I can't let that happen to you too.'

Damn it, now she could feel tears pricking her eyes. She would not cry. There was no point.

Jenna knew that there was nothing to fight for here. Even the tiny hope she'd been harbouring — that once she was gone Luke would realise his feelings and come after her — was totally unfounded. He needed to get over Nicola before he could love again.

And as much as she cared about him she wouldn't settle for being his consolation prize.

Jenna sat at her desk sipping her latte and surveying story proposals for the February edition. She flipped through a number of pages and sighed. Not one story jumped out and grabbed her attention. If she was honest, nothing had held her attention since she returned from Barlow a week ago.

She stood up and went to the window. Even the spectacular Melbourne skyline didn't have its usual appeal. The vivid colours and rugged landscapes of Barlow danced in her memory, making the city seem grey and drab. She sighed and went back to her desk. She needed to drag her mind — and her heart — out of Barlow and back to the present. There was work to be done.

At least the Barlow story was coming along nicely. She'd saved space in the January edition and the shots Charlotte had taken looked great. The story just needed a photo of Maggie and the baby to cap it off.

She'd avoided the hospital, sending flowers and a gift by courier instead. It wasn't that she didn't want to see Maggie, and she was dying to hold little Joey in her arms once more, but the risk of running into Luke was too great. He was still in town according Brooke, who seemed to be spending a lot of her recuperation time texting, emailing and talking to Rob.

Brooke was so obvious in her attempts to get her into the same room with Luke. Anyone would think she had a vested interest in them getting together. She kept dropping hints about Jenna visiting the hospital at times she clearly knew, from her discussions with Rob, that Luke would be there. Jenna refused to take the bait. But now she really couldn't avoid Maggie any longer. Hopefully she'd be lucky enough to slip in and out of the hospital without so much as a glimpse of him. And if not…well, she'd be civil and so would he. It would hurt but it wouldn't kill her.

Jenna's assistant buzzed her. ‘I've managed to get Maggie Tanner on the phone. She's on line one,' Meg said.

Jenna picked up the receiver. ‘Hey Maggie, how are you? I'm hoping I can come see you this afternoon, and I have a favour to ask.' Jenna explained her idea for the photo shoot and Maggie was enthusiastic about the idea, suggesting Jenna come to the hospital as soon as she could.

‘All being well, Joey and I should both be discharged tomorrow. I'm so excited to be taking him home with me,' Maggie said. ‘I'm really looking forward to seeing you, Jenna. I can't wait for you to see Joey. He's changed already.'

After finalising the arrangements with Maggie, Jenna organised to meet a photographer at the Royal Women's Hospital later in the afternoon and turned her attention back to her inbox. 68 unread messages, 18 marked urgent.
No rest for the wicked
as Grandpa Bob would say. She quickly scanned the senders and subject lines, looking for a place to start. Immediately a name jumped out at her.

Sender: Janet Powell

Subject: Private and Confidential

Janet Powell?
The
Janet Powell? Jenna's mouth went dry. Why was the editor of
Mod
magazine emailing her directly?

In the aftermath of her break up with Simon she'd dashed off a job application to the magazine, never expecting to hear back. A few weeks later the current Features Editor contacted Jenna to arrange a Skype interview for the following day. It was a disaster. Jenna was woefully underprepared and it was deadline day so she was interrupted constantly. Not surprisingly she'd heard no more since the interview and that was months ago. So this was going to be the “thanks but no thanks” message. Odd that it came from the desk of the editor herself.

She clicked open the message and began to read.

Dear Ms McLean,

Thank you for your recent application for the position of Features Editor at Mod. After some deliberation we have decided to offer the position to another applicant
.

No surprises there.

However, another position has opened up at the magazine that we think you would be perfect for
.

What? Was this a joke? She scanned the rest of the email quickly, looking for evidence of a prank or scam, but could find nothing suspicious. Jenna stared at the screen, hardly daring to believe the words in front of her.

Mod is looking to appoint an International Features Editor. The job involves producing a monthly column for the magazine and overseeing all our international content. The successful applicant will work closely with the Features Editor
.

We are prepared to offer you this position, conditional on a successful face-to-face meeting in our London offices. Please contact my personal assistant, Krista Miles, who will arrange a suitable time for this meeting and take care of all your travel arrangements
.

Jenna's heart pounded. London! If the offer was legitimate it was a fantasy come true, something she'd never even dared to dream of, not even when she'd applied for the original position. And it couldn't have come at a better time. There was certainly nothing holding her here.

She checked the time on her phone. The world clock showed it was three o'clock in the morning London time. No point calling now, she'd have to wait until dinnertime before it was a reasonable time to call.

But she did have plenty of time to get a run in before leaving for the shoot at the hospital. A lap or two around The Tan was exactly what she needed to get things straight in her head.

She grabbed her sports bag and slid into the bathroom for a quick change into her running gear. ‘Just heading off for a run,' she called to Meg. ‘Back in an hour.' She slipped out the door before Meg could come up with an urgent job that needed her immediate attention.

Being on the familiar track was calming. She concentrated on her breathing as she joined the lunchtime throng of runners. Before long she'd hit her stride, the movement coming naturally, and she was in the meditative state she could only ever achieve by putting one foot in front of the other.

Once she relaxed and let her mind wander she found herself back in Barlow, lying with Luke under the gum trees. She increased her speed along with the volume on her iPod, endeavouring to drive the images from her mind, but the attempt was useless. Nothing worked.

Consciously trying to forget about him had the opposite effect. Trying to convince herself it was “just sex” was no better. Luke was under her skin and it seemed only time would cure her broken heart. Foolish as it might be to feel so shattered over a relationship that never started, the pain was real.

The best cure for pain and disappointment was hard work and now she had a fabulous opportunity to start afresh in London. It was a no-brainer. She had to at least go there and talk to the editor about the position. What did she have to lose?

‘Hey, watch where you're going!'

Jenna swung around to find she'd strayed into the path of a Lorna Jane-clad Amazon pushing an oversized three-wheeled stroller. The woman scowled as Jenna waved her apologies and moved aside.

A picture of Maggie, Lycra clad, pushing Joey around the farm in one of those three-wheeled monstrosities, flashed into her mind and she grinned. Not a chance of that happening. Barlow women had better things to do than prance around in designer gym wear.

Writing the stories of the women of Barlow was an eye-opener. On the surface all of the women had it tough — Maggie was financially well off but had lost her husband to a country road; Leanne was struggling to make her way in a man's world; and Agnes had lived through fire, flood and drought many times over, and yet still considered herself to be a lucky woman.

Despite all their hardship, these women seemed at peace with themselves and their lot in life. No adversity was a match for their strength and cheerful determination to “make the best of things”. When she'd arrived in Barlow Jenna had pitied the locals, but now she envied them. It seemed that her friends in Barlow had the very thing she had been looking for her whole life, a place to truly belong.

Maybe London would be that place for her.

Luke cradled his sleeping nephew in his arms. ‘He's definitely got your mouth.'

‘And his father's nose.' Maggie's faced glowed with pride and Luke felt a stab of sorrow that Joe was not the one witnessing this moment.

He wandered over to the window of the patient lounge, instinctively rocking Joey as he went. The hospital's brochure boasted the view from up here was “spectacular” but the drab vista of skyscrapers and traffic had nothing on the view from Tandarra's veranda. Luke turned his gaze to the baby instead, relishing the opportunity to properly hold him away from the restrictions of the Special Care Nursery that had been Joey's home for the past week. ‘Just wait until we get you back home, little man. You're going to be the talk of the town.'

Maggie's smile faded. ‘Luke, I need to talk to you about that. Come and sit down.' She patted the space next to her on the blue vinyl couch.

He shook his head. ‘I'm okay here. What do you want to talk about?'

‘We're not coming back to Tandarra.'

‘Not yet, of course. The plan was to spend a week or two at your mum's, but eventually you'll be back, right?' He gingerly placed Joey back into the clear plastic hospital crib, and smiled as his nephew opened his eyes and made a cute snuffling sound before settling back to sleep. He turned to Maggie expectantly.

She shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don't think so. Maybe in time I'll change my mind, but right now Tandarra feels too…hard.' She blinked hard but her eyes watered with emotion nonetheless.

‘I thought you loved Tandarra.'

‘I did. I do, but bringing the baby home without Joe by my side… I just can't.'

He pushed aside a couple of gossip magazines and settled himself on the couch beside her. ‘When did you decide this?'

Maggie gulped back a sob. ‘Luke, I'm sorry, but as soon as I knew I was pregnant I knew I couldn't stay on at Tandarra. Don't you see? That was why I was so full on about the Bush Blokes' Ball. I wanted…well, I hoped you would meet someone, and that way I wouldn't feel so terrible about leaving you all alone.'

Luke could feel the heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. ‘God, Maggie. I can't believe you didn't talk to me about all of this. You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. I don't need your pity.'

‘It's not pity, it's concern.'

‘Tell me the truth. Have you been staying at Tandarra all these months because you were worried about me?'

‘No. Not only because of that. I stayed for me too. Other than me, you were the person who loved Joe most in the world. You knew him better than anyone. I needed to be near you, to share my grief with someone who understood. But now it's time for me to move on. I need to start living again, for Joey's sake as much as anything.'