She’d be with Max.

If he still wanted her.

He wanted her. For months the sizzle had been building. It was in his voice, in his laughter, even in his silence. She couldn’t mistake his desire, for she felt exactly the same about him. He made her toes curl.

Speaking of toes…she looked down at her feet. She was wearing sky-blue, open-toed sandals and she’d painted her toenails crimson. She was wearing a blue and white gingham dress with a bow at the back and Sophie had tied her hair up in a blue ribbon.

He’d ordered pretty. She felt a bit like Sandy from Grease, before the leather.


He was late.

‘What time are we expecting him?’ Margaret called from the kitchen. ‘My roast’ll spoil.’ She wandered out to join Maggie on the veranda and then turned toward the road. ‘Is this him now?’

Maggie gazed out, sizzle building like petrol on wildfire-and then her sizzle faded. This wasn’t Max. It was an SUV, bright crimson, with two surfboards on the roof rack.

‘Wrong place?’ Margaret said.

‘So what’s behind it?’ John asked, joining them. The SUV was slowing and turning into the driveway, and a truck was following. A huge truck, big enough to hold the contents of a small house.

‘Maybe Angus has ordered another tractor,’ John said, looking out to where Angus and Bonnie were sitting on the Sift TD4 diesel that Max had found. The Sift had been built in 1950 in France. Maggie knew that now. She was starting to feel almost as affectionate toward the tractors as Angus.

She’d be able to come home to visit.

Back, she reminded herself sharply. Not home. Home would be in Sydney with Max.

Max or not, the truck and the SUV were certainly coming in. The SUV drove slowly along between the tractors, followed by the truck. Who was in them?

The sun was in her eyes, but as the SUV passed Angus, the window slid downward. ‘Hey, Angus. Hey, Bonnie.’

It was definitely Max. But what was with the truck? Had Max brought Angus another tractor? A going-away present?

She hadn’t told Angus she was going away. She hadn’t told John or Margaret, but maybe they’d guessed.

She didn’t know herself yet, she reminded herself sharply, but that was stupid.

There was no choice.

Max.

But why was he driving an SUV? With surfboards?

Both truck and SUV were pulling up now, under the gums by the house. A couple of burly guys climbed out of the truck and stood, waiting. Max climbed out of the SUV. He was wearing jeans and boots and an open-necked checked shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His hair looked sort of unruly.

He looked great, she thought. He looked…free.

He reached back into the SUV and lifted out a black and white ball of fluff. Set it gently on its feet.

A puppy. A Border collie, like Bonnie. Ten or twelve weeks old? Cute as a button.

The puppy looked around in astonishment, and Bonnie was off Angus’s tractor in a flash, bounding down to check out the new arrival.

The puppy rolled onto its back while Bonnie sniffed from all angles, paying special attention to the rear.

No one moved. It was like a very special test was being conducted. But then Bonnie’s tail wagged, the puppy righted itself, put a paw up and gently swiped at Bonnie’s nose.

Bonnie bumped him gently with her nose in return, wagged her tail, then turned and bounded back toward Angus. Puppy in tow.

‘Hey, he’s for Maggie,’ Max called, and Angus even grinned.

‘Share,’ he said.

Not if I’m going to Sydney, Maggie thought wildly, but still she couldn’t say anything.

But he wasn’t walking toward her. Max was unroping the surfboards from the roof of his car. He lifted them down with loving care, and laid them on the ground.

Behind him the men had tugged open the van doors. They were carrying out…a sea kayak?

Aren’t you going to help?’ Max demanded of the group on the veranda. ‘I’m paying these guys by the hour.’ And John gave Maggie a push that nearly sent her off the veranda without benefit of steps.

‘Go help your man,’ he said.

‘He’s not-’

‘Maggie,’ Max called, sounding exasperated. ‘I’ve brought you a surf board all the way from Sydney, and you don’t even want to come see it? Oh, and the front berth in this kayak is for you.’

‘But-’

‘And there’s more stuff,’ he called. ‘It might be a bit of a squash but it seemed too much bother to rent storage in Sydney. We can sort out what we don’t want later.’

‘But…’ said Maggie.

‘I think you’d better go see, dear,’ Margaret said, smiling and smiling. ‘I might go in and turn the roast down. John, girls, inside, all of you.’

Don’t leave me. She didn’t say it. She thought it. She was feeling like the veranda was swaying under her.

‘Come and look,’ Max called, peremptorily this time, and finally she did, walking cautiously down from the veranda and out through the garden. The puppy came bounding to greet her, and that gave her a moment to get her thoughts together. Or as much as she could, kneeling to hug a squirming mass of black and white pup.

How had he known she wanted a puppy?

‘We’ll never keep him happy in Sydney,’ she said, and then heard what she’d said and blushed from the toes up. She was making all sorts of assumptions-or she’d made assumptions and now they were being stood on their heads.

In a good way?

‘I always wanted a dog,’ Max said, and she rose and watched while the pup wheeled back to Bonnie. ‘Her name’s Bounce.’

‘So he’s not a gift,’ she said cautiously.

‘He’s a gift.’

‘But you said you want a dog.’

‘He’s a gift to all of us.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Maggie, this is a moving van,’ he said, motioning behind him as if she might not have noticed the van, the two burly removalists, the sea kayak, the vast, leather-topped desk they were now carting out. ‘It’s full of my stuff. Last time I was here I checked out a couple of empty sheds out the back. I was hoping I might be able to unload it here.’

‘Why…why would you want to do that?’

‘Ah.’ He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, but stopped six feet away, as if reminding himself not to rush. ‘I was hoping you’d guess,’ he said. He motioned back to the surfboards. ‘I’m also hoping you might teach me to surf.’

‘You know how to surf,’ she said, struggling to breathe.

‘I can body-surf. I can’t stand up. I didn’t have William to teach me.’

‘So you brought all your furniture-so I could teach you to surf?’

‘Not all of it, but I did bring my grandfather’s desk. Isn’t it great? It’s big enough for both of us. We can teach Rose to read at this desk. Then there’s my great-grandmother’s piano. I have this really strong feeling that Rose will be a piano player. It can’t go in the shed, by the way. It’ll need to have a bit of the sitting room. Do you think it can have a bit of your sitting room?’

‘I’m living in a one-bedroom apartment at the back of the house,’ she said, with an attempt to get things clear.

‘Yes, well, there’s moves afoot to change that,’ he said, smiling so much her heart felt like it was turning somersaults. ‘I hope I haven’t pre-empted things.’

‘Pre-empted…’

‘You see, John thinks this place could be a really wonderful medical centre.’

‘Here?’

‘Yandilagong,’ he said patiently. ‘The town itself is small, but the surrounding farming population is enormous. The farmers all end up going to the city for their major medical needs, but if there was a really good medical centre they wouldn’t need to. John and I have been talking to the politicians and there’s nothing but enthusiasm.’

‘John and you?’

‘John and I.’

Her head was spinning. ‘So what’s this got to do with pianos?’

‘You’re not giving me time,’ he complained, but still he smiled, his lovely, slow, lazy smile, and her heart was giving up somersaulting and going into freefall. ‘Do you know how beautiful you are?’

‘No, I…’

‘Someone ought to tell you,’ he said. ‘Only that someone needs time. Like a lifetime.’

‘Max…’

‘You’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself,’ he said. They were still standing about six feet apart. Stupidly formal. His eyes weren’t leaving her face.

‘John thinks a big medical centre would work here,’ he said. ‘He’s a family doctor. So are you. Margaret’s a dentist. That’s two and a half medicos already, if we count you not going back to work full time.’

‘I need to go back to work full time.’

‘But do you want to, with Rose so young? If there were supports in place so you didn’t need to?’

‘Max…’

‘Maggie, don’t distract me,’ he said. ‘Or don’t distract me more than you’re already doing. Blue hair ribbons, hey?’

‘You said you wanted pretty. I let Sophie and Paula choose.’

‘Sophie and Paula have fine taste,’ he said, and grinned and then schooled his features into mock gravity. ‘Enough. Let me get it all out in one hit so I can figure whether I should unload this van or just hightail it out of here.’

She was trying to figure out whether he was laughing or he was serious. She wanted to be closer to him, but still he stood back, watching her, as if he had to lay it all on the line before any movement was possible.

‘We need more doctors,’ he said.

‘More doctors.’

‘For our hospital,’ he explained, as if she was a little bit thick. ‘You know the old hospital out on the headland? It’s used now as a holiday camp, but apparently it’s still government owned. There’s such medical need in this area it’s becoming a political hot potato, and I have assurances that if we can guarantee staffing, they’ll reopen it. So John’s written to a friend of his who’s also emigrating from Zimbabwe. She’s a surgeon, her husband’s a farmer and her sons dream of surfing. They think this place sounds great. And then there’s Anton, my anaesthetist. His wife’s going nuts, him leaving home at six in the morning and not getting home until well after the babies are in bed. This place is just what he needs as well.’