Chapter 14

Eloise forced a smile and ushered Bianca into the art room where Nate was waiting.

“I’d almost given up on you ever calling me.” Bianca greeted Nate with an overly familiar shoulder pat, her hand lingering on his body. Eloise stiffened. This was all going to be worth it. She just had to keep her eye on the prize.

Besides, he’s not yours, and he never will be. Being his friend will have to be enough. And if you get the AATI exchange, you’ll be leaving on your own adventure soon enough.

“Thanks for coming. I wanted to talk about the profile you proposed,” Nate said.

Bianca’s glossy lips parted, her camera-ready smile appearing. “Knew you’d come round. And think about it—it’s perfect timing with your upcoming release. We’ll tie it all together. The local boy turned international sporting superstar who also writes bestselling books. I can picture the shots already. Classic black and white, a few in profile. Nothing fancy. Just you. But maybe sort of rustic? Bit of flannel, a campfire? A subtle homage to your new small-town life. Does anyone around here have a smoke machine?”

The startled expression on Nate’s face sent Eloise edging closer to where he was standing, the afternoon sunlight casting a glow around his already devastating features.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Nate said. “I don’t want the focus to be on me. That’s why we asked you to meet us here.”

“You understand what a profile is, right? People are interested in you, Nate. They want to understand why you walked away from everything at the height of your career to come home, live in a little cabin and hide behind a computer. If you want to put an artsy spin on it, we could probably get some shots here, I guess? Is that why you wanted to meet here?”

Eloise winced. Bianca had just pitched exactly the kind of article Nate had confessed he had no interest in.

“I’d have thought another writer would understand how there’s no hiding when you’re sharing your work with others. Writing is more exposing than running around a field. You put your soul on the page and invite people to judge it. It’s not for the fainthearted.”

Hearing him speak like that made Eloise pause. No wonder Nate had mentioned feeling overexposed and vulnerable at times.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Nate crossed his arms, and the urge to protect him prompted Eloise to launch into her sales pitch. “Did you know that Kathleen’s Place was established in the sixties by Nate’s great-grandmother and continues to provide a range of different services to the Wattle Junction community?” Warmth hit her square in the chest when Nate sent her an encouraging smile. “Our art classes are one of our most popular programs, and they run three afternoons a week. We were hoping you might be interested in doing an article on the importance of community engagement in small towns to coincide with the launch of a new program that focuses on combining mindfulness with creativity and movement.”

Bianca stepped forward and trailed her hand over the scarred wooden table in the centre of the room. “I used to teach art classes at summer camp. They’re some of my favourite memories.”

Would you look at that. Eloise and Bianca had something in common that wasn’t just an unrequited interest in Nate. They were never going to be gal pals, but at least it was something to talk about.

“Eloise did all the work to get this art program off the ground, and she’s studying for her master’s right now so she can offer art therapy, which is going to be a wonderful asset to Kathleen’s Place. Just like she is,” Nate said.

The warmth in Eloise’s chest migrated north, staining her cheeks, making her feel flush. Hearing Nate recognise how much effort she’d poured into making her art classes as popular as they were made dealing with Bianca worth it.

“Okay, so the classes are Eloise’s baby. But this new program”—Bianca lifted the colourful brochure Eloise handed her. She’d only finished making them last night after she’d helped Mary make more of the new bonbonnieres—“‘Mindful Movement’ is both of your baby? And you want to highlight it as part of your profile?”

The question was obviously for Nate, but when he didn’t say anything, Eloise looked over at him. Nate was staring at a tub of colourful pipe cleaners like they were the most interesting things in the whole world, his jaw set in a hard line.

“Um, kind of.” Eloise laughed, jumping in to fill the weird silence, but the sound was tinny, nothing like her real laughter. “Kathleen’s Place relies on the generosity of many benefactors and volunteers, and Nate’s one of our biggest supporters. He’s recently stepped in to run our youth sporting clinics and joining the two programs together makes sense. Any extra publicity is always appreciated.”

“Is that something you’re passionate about, Nate? Using your own experiences to help your local community?” Bianca typed a few things into her phone.

“Movement and creativity are the cornerstones of my life and my career. It’s easy to overlook one in favour of the other, and I love the idea of kids learning how easily they go together.”

Bianca slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “Couldn’t agree more. I’ll pitch this to my editor, and if she signs off on it, we can do the full interview and shoot. Can you guys find some kids whose parents will sign a photography release? Nate with little ones will definitely get ovaries exploding.”

That was another thing Eloise and Bianca could agree on, but Nate shook his head immediately. “But the focus will be KPs, right? Not me?”

“No one cares about a community centre filled with adorable kids fingerpainting and playing hopscotch. No offence. I think this is great,” Bianca said, turning towards Eloise and she was struck by how sincere the woman sounded. “Sometimes you have to play the game to get what you want. Add a mysterious professional athlete who’s also a bestselling author to this mix and we’ve got lift off. I don’t make the rules, Nate.”

Weariness settled across Nate’s features. “I know.” He scrubbed his hand down his face.

An idea blossomed in Eloise’s mind. “What if we could get one of our participants to agree to a case study? Talk about how it has helped them?”

“Sure.” Bianca shrugged. “Try to get a cute one, though. No one likes ugly kids. Okay, I’m going to snap some shots and finish writing this pitch later. I’ll see you both at dance training in a few hours.”

Eloise walked her out, and when she returned to the art room, she found Nate staring out the window towards the lavender field and dam.

“You’re thinking of Callum for the profile, aren’t you?” he said without looking at her.

“Yep, but before we ring his dad, we should check with Callum first. See what he says.”

They were so on the same wavelength it was almost scary.

* * *

“Doyou think we’ve improved at all?” Ryan asked as they walked to the pub after dance class. The night air was especially chilly, and puddles littered the path after a string of thunderstorms had hit Wattle Junction at lunchtime.

Eloise pulled her puffer jacket tighter around her body. “Only two couples crashed into each other tonight. And the vein in Charlie’s head was barely visible. That’s progress.” She didn’t mention that Nate hadn’t stepped on Bianca’s toes once, either. Or that she hadn’t caught him watching her and Ryan at all.

Seemed like they were well and truly back aboard the SS Friendship.

“I think Charlie’s hoping we all look crap on the day to take the pressure off him,” Ryan said as Eloise pulled open the heavy wooden front door of the pub.

“You know you’re meant to let me do that, right? I’m trying to convince you I’m a gentleman over here.” Ryan winked, and it definitely didn’t have the same effect on her as it did when Nate did that to her. Ryan gestured for her to go in front of him, and Eloise smiled weakly.

“Glass of cider?”

She was so predictable. “How’d you really guess my favourite drink?” she asked.

Ryan leant forward until their faces were almost touching. Rocking back on her heels, Eloise created space between them. There were none of the butterflies she got when Nate was close to her.

“It’s a gift. And I asked Wyatt.”

As she shrugged out of her coat, someone bumped into her from behind and Eloise stumbled forward, her hands tangled in the long sleeves. But it wasn’t Ryan who caught her. Two strong hands gripped her hips and saved her from faceplanting into the mahogany bar.

“Sorry!” a little girl yelled as she chased after a boy.

“Are you okay?” Nate’s voice washed over her. The tip of his nose was pink, and that damn beanie was on his head again.

“We’re fine,” Ryan cut in, no attempt made to hide the annoyance in his tone. “I’ll take care of my girl from here, mate.”

Hold up. Since when was she ‘Ryan’s girl’?

Nate’s hands released her, and she missed his touch immediately. “See you later,” he said quietly.

“I hate that guy,” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes when Eloise didn’t immediately agree. “He acts like he’s God’s gift to Wattle Junction. Like no one else from here has ever done anything impressive.”

Regardless of her unreciprocated romantic feelings for Nate, and their recent complications, he was still her friend. And he did so much for everyone else. “That’s not true.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for all his crap, too?”

“He’s not like that. If anything, he’s shy. Nate’s the last person to point out all the amazing things he’s done. He literally has his own charity.”

“And how do you know that?” Ryan paused for dramatic effect. “Because he’s told you. I used to be a volunteer big brother. You don’t hear me banging on about it constantly.”

Eloise shook her head. Ryan was confusing just like every other guy. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he’d pivot. Show her another side of himself that contradicted what she thought she knew.

She heard him say, “Two ciders, big fella,” to Wyatt, but her gaze was firmly fixed in the back corner of the room where Nate was unpacking his laptop and glasses. He was nothing like what Ryan had said. If she had to pick a word to describe Nate, it would be juxtaposition. He was determined to succeed but generous enough to make sure no one was ever left behind. He was detail oriented but didn’t fixate on things that didn’t matter. He was a public personality but kept so much of his life private.

He’d wanted her but wouldn’t let himself have her.

Eloise’s head hurt.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it.

Ryan’s hand covered hers, and he leant closer. “I like talking to you. You’re a good listener.” Well, that was nice. “You make me feel things again, Eloise, especially in my pants.”

Welp. That went south quickly. And people said romance was dead.

“It’s time we stopped fighting what’s between us.”

Sirens—literal sirens—sounded in the distance, and Eloise laughed awkwardly, pulling her hand away from Ryan. Talk about a sign from the universe.

“Listen, ah …” she started. She’d never been good at this part. Not that she’d given that many date refusals in her life. The shy girl who’d rather read or paint was rarely bombarded by interest from the opposite sex. Ryan’s eyes narrowed, and the worry curling through her chest spread throughout her body. Her gut said Ryan was going to get huffy when she said “Thanks, but no thanks” to him and the feeling in his pants.

“Let’s sneak into the city after the hens and bucks tomorrow night and go to a club. I’ll get a private booth, and we can get to know each other properly. Charlie will be hammered by then. He won’t care that I plan on introducing his little sister to the best time she’s ever had.”

What was in the water bottle Ryan had been drinking from at dance class?

“I don’t think so.”

Ryan obviously thought the half grin he offered her was endearing, possibly even a bit self-deprecating, but all Eloise saw was what she should’ve noticed immediately. His nostrils flaring, brows pinching together like he couldn’t possibly comprehend that she was saying no to him.

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun. Might even loosen you up. God knows you could use it.”

Shame coursed through Eloise’s body, pushing the memories of men saying dumb shit like that to her to the forefront of her mind. That she wasn’t any good in bed. That she needed to relax. To stop being so in her head. How many times had she encouraged other women to remember their worth? But she’d let her disappointment about Nate’s desire—or lack of it—propel her into this ridiculous situation. Seeking validation from someone who was nothing but seventy percent bleached teeth, fake tan and hair gel.

Her phone vibrated again, and she pulled it out of her pants. Joanie. It was like her grandmother had a sixth sense. She was suddenly aware of how everyone was watching them, whispering behind their hands. Eloise would call Joanie back in a minute, once she’d made it clear to Ryan that nothing was going to happen between them.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not. I’ll see you at dance practice.” She pulled a few notes out of her purse and dropped them on the bar.

With her head held high and her shoulders square, her backpack a comforting weight against her shoulders, Eloise left the pub.

A quiet night with Joanie and Golden Girls episodes was exactly what she needed.

* * *

The fire truck’sflashing lights were the first sign that Eloise’s plans to become one with the couch weren’t going to happen. But the ambulance in the driveway was the one that made her stomach drop to the ground. Eloise ran down the street, worry for her grandmother propelling her forward like this form of exercise was something she did regularly.

Her heart pounded, a million questions materialising in her mind. There was no hint of smoke in the air, just the clean, crisp smell that followed rain.

A shock of pink hair caught her eye, and Eloise gasped. Joanie was sitting on a gurney next to the front gate, her house slippers peeking out from the bottom of the blanket.

“I’m okay, darling.”

“What happened?” The front of the little cottage looked fine, but firies were streaming in and out of the side gate to the backyard.

“The old gum collapsed. Straight through the roof of the kitchen and bathroom.”

It was like the tree had fallen on Eloise as her mind scrambled to make sense of what Joanie had said. “Were you inside when it happened?”

“The lounge room. I thought it was an earthquake.” The waver in Joanie’s voice pushed the tears that had been threatening to spill down Eloise’s cheeks. This was all her fault. If she’d called the arborist earlier, they would’ve sorted this before it happened.

Eloise wrapped Joanie up in a hug, uncomfortable with how small she was in her arms and how her shoulders still trembled. “Are you warm enough? Do you want my jacket?”

“I’m okay, really. Just got a big fright. The firies called the ambo. Said I was in shock because I couldn’t stop shaking. But I think it’s because two of them are very attractive. Your favourite romance books would describe them as strapping. Probably say something about how muscular their forearms are. Honestly, they’re like tree trunks.”

“Take a breath,” Eloise interrupted. “Have you called Mum and Dad?”

“They’re on their way.”

“Okay. I’m going to go and have a look out the back. Are you okay if I leave you for a second?”

Joanie nodded. “I think I’ll just rest my eyes. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“You didn’t bang your head, did you?”

“No, no. I just need a minute.”

Eloise squeezed Joanie’s hand and fussed with the blanket, tucking it tightly around her. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

The back half of the house was gone. Like gone gone. In the battle between the humongous gum tree and post-war weatherboard cottage, the tree had won. Anyone who wanted to use the bathroom now would have to be okay with having an audience and have mastered hover squats. Eloise’s shocked expression stared back at her from the shattered mirror, her face reappearing in each fragment.

“Hey.” Nate appeared next to her.

“A tree fell on our house,” she said, chastising herself. Nate had eyes. He could see that, probably even better than she could considering he was wearing his glasses.

“I came as soon as I heard.”

“Joanie was inside. All by herself. I should’ve been here with her.” Eloise wiped her face with her jacket sleeve. To think she’d been standing at the bar with Ryan realising what an idiot she’d been when poor Joanie was being scared half to death. If her grandmother had been in the kitchen … Dots danced in front of Eloise’s vision, and she sagged backwards, hitting Nate’s chest.

“Let’s sit down on the bench over there.” Nate tucked her against his side and guided her away from the mess that used to be her favourite room in the cottage. “Do you feel faint? Nauseous? You might be going into shock.”

Eloise shook her head, but it didn’t help. Her tears fell freely. She burrowed her head into Nate’s coat and tried to focus on the woodsy scent that always lingered around him. Through her thick jacket, she felt Nate rub her back, focusing on how his hand glided in a steady, smooth motion that matched the soft way he murmured “You’re okay, Joan’s okay”.

When she trusted her voice, Eloise repeated the thought that insisted on marching through her mind. “I should’ve been here.”

“What could you have done? Seriously? Did you know a big ass tree was going to fall on your house today?”

Logic wasn’t what she wanted to hear right now.

“Still. I could’ve helped Joanie. And if I’d called the arborist like I was supposed to …”

Nate’s other hand cupped her chin, tipping her face so they could see each other properly. “Joan’s okay. She got herself outside and called for help. She’s tough, which we all already knew. She was hitting on a fireman when I arrived and told me to tell him we weren’t dating.”

“I know we’re not dating, Nate.” Why did he choose this moment to remind her of that? God, men weren’t just confusing, they were stupid.

Heat flared in his eyes quickly before disappearing. “She wanted me to clarify to the fireman that she and I weren’t involved. I’m too old for her, apparently. It’s a good news day for Teddy.”

Oh.

“Come on, let’s go see if your folks are here yet.” Nate helped her up, slipped his hand into hers and didn’t let go.

“How’d you know what happened?” she asked.

“Raff was at the hospital for work when the ambulance got called out. He recognised the address and called me.”

Eloise stepped through the side gate, relieved the flashing lights had been turned off.

“Eloise! Thank goodness.” Mary enveloped her in a big hug, squeezing her tightly. As soon as she was released, Michael did the same thing.

“I’m alright. I wasn’t even here. What happens next?”

Eloise half listened as her father explained that he’d call the insurers, and hopefully, they’d send someone out in the morning to assess the damage. When he said something about packing a bag, her ears pricked up.

“… with all the damage, you won’t be able to stay here for a few weeks at least.”

Great. Just great.

“We’ll squeeze the blow-up into my office, and Mum can sleep in the guest room,” Mary said.

Once it had been apparent that Eloise was going to stay at Joanie’s indefinitely, Mary had converted her bedroom into a craft room that doubled as her office. It had actually been the inspiration for the art room at KPs. Although, Eloise hadn’t inherited her love of order and everything being in its place from Mary. The last time she’d been in her mother’s office, it had been very … crowded. Visions of art supplies toppling over and smothering her in the middle of the night filled her mind.

“I’ll tidy it up as soon as we get home and find a spot for the mattress.”

“Or you can bunk in with me?” Joanie offered.

Eloise blanched. She could camp on the couch instead, but it was too short to be comfortable. The idea of sleeping on an air mattress for a few weeks didn’t exactly thrill Eloise, but when her only other option was sharing with The Human Chainsaw, it would have to do.

“There’s a spare room at my place.”

She heard the words. Understood English too, funnily enough, but it still took her a second to realise what Nate was offering. Joanie, of course, beat her to reply.

“Why, Nate”—the older woman beamed at him—“I’d love to stay with you. Glad we’ve got this all sorted.”

“That offer wasn’t for you, Mum,” Mary sighed.

“A gal can dream.” Joanie flopped back against the gurney. Her face was brighter, eyes more alert.

Eloise tugged at the collar of her jumper, her skin suddenly warm. It would make her life easier. Charlie’s place was out, and Alice and Owen were so loved up. She’d have to walk around blindfolded just to be sure she didn’t see something she shouldn’t. “I don’t want to be in the way,” she said.

“It’s no problem; besides, this is what friends do, right? They help each other out,” Nate said. “Let me do this for you, Eloise. Please?”

“Yes, let him. Go on,” said Joanie, a devilish grin on her face. Clearly, the shock was wearing off. “Or do it for me. I’d feel terrible if you had to squeeze in with us when there’s a perfectly good bed at Nate’s place.”

Eloise turned back towards Nate. It was so unfair how delectable he could make a shapeless puffer jacket look. The moonlight hitting the wire frames of his glasses just added to his attractiveness.

But if they were only ever destined to be friends and now temporary housemates, she had to stop thinking things like that.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay with you.”