The Wedding Countdown

“We start with the bride.”

The dean nodded at Tessa, and she hoped her answering smile looked better than it felt.

“You stand in front of me, dear.” He looked up at Isaac expectantly. “Could you stand in as groom for now?”

“Oh, no!” cried Tessa. And everybody looked at her curiously. This twist of fate was just too cruel. Silently she pleaded to Isaac. I can’t bear this. Please refuse. It’s not necessary.

Isaac’s eyes bored into her, full of black heat. “Yes, of course I’ll help out.”

“You won’t find yourself married to the wrong person,” the dean said with a chuckle.

“Although—” and Tessa wondered why he chose to look straight at her as he spoke “—I’m afraid there are many couples who discover too late that they’ve made the wrong choice.”

Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, Australia, educated in Brisbane and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical north Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy.

Books by Barbara Hannay

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3578—OUTBACK WIFE AND MOTHER

The Wedding Countdown

Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

FOUR days to go…

‘It’s the most beautiful wedding dress ever!’

Tessa twirled in front of the long, oval mirror, her blue eyes shining as she watched her reflection. She turned and looked over her shoulder to examine the rear view of her elegant, low-backed gown. The exquisite detailing of the silk brocade bodice and the train of fine chiffon, drifting away from clusters of the palest of pale pink roses at her waist, combined to create a gown that was as pretty as a fairy tale.

‘It’s just perfect, darling,’ Rosalind Morrow agreed, her gaze misty as she observed her daughter’s happiness.

Flashing her mother an excited smile, Tessa paraded across the room, delighting in the luxurious rustle and whisper of expensive silk as she moved. ‘It’s going to be a dream wedding,’ she sighed happily.

‘Yes,’ replied Rosalind, but her echoing sigh didn’t sound quite so cheerful.

Tessa looked at her mother sharply. Rosalind’s expression had grown cautious, and she twisted her hands nervously.

‘Is something wrong, Mum?’ Tessa asked.

‘Of course not, darling, all the wedding plans are running like clockwork.’ But then, in contradiction to her reassuring reply, Rosalind turned away. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong,’ she went on with a shaky little laugh, ‘but there is one tiny titbit of news.’

‘Oh?’ responded Tessa, suddenly tense, her heart thumping uncomfortably. ‘What’s that?’

Rosalind plucked at an invisible piece of lint on her neat navy linen skirt. ‘You won’t believe this,’ she said, then paused and drew in a deep breath as if gathering courage to broach her news. ‘Isaac’s come home.’

Panic flashed through Tessa. She stared at her mother in silent horror. Her eyes flickered to her reflection in the mirror, and she saw the colour bleach from her face as Rosalind’s words echoed crazily off her bedroom walls.

Isaac’s come home. Isaac’s come home!

From a long way off, she heard her mother’s cry. ‘Tessa, don’t look like that!’

But then her ears filled with the deafening thud of her pounding heartbeat. The room, her mother and the reflection of her wedding gown blurred and swirled before her eyes. A sickening wave of dizziness swamped her.

‘Tessa, for heaven’s sake, you look terrible.’

Reaching behind her, Tessa felt for the edge of her bed, and when her hand touched the quilted cover, she sank gratefully onto it.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Rosalind whispered, her mouth quivering into a frightened smile. ‘Should I ring your father? How do you feel?’

Tessa struggled to gain composure. ‘I’m fine. I—I forgot to eat any lunch today,’ she said, lying, desperate to cover her panic. ‘And…and you should have warned me about…about Isaac.’

‘Of course I should,’ Rosalind soothed. ‘I guess I thought you were over him after all these years.’

‘Over him, Mum? Of course I’m over him. I was never…’ Tessa stopped abruptly. She quickly tried to change the subject. ‘Help me up, please,’ she said. She stood gingerly, trying to ignore the despair that threatened to engulf her.

Isaac’s come home!

How could her whole world be up-ended so abruptly?

‘Oh, dear. What will your father say? And your poor wedding dress! It is crushed.’ Rosalind dithered as she checked her daughter’s gown.

Mum, forget the dress! Tessa wanted to scream.

But, unaware of her daughter’s consternation, Rosalind continued her inspection. ‘At least there’s no harm done that a steam iron can’t fix,’ she announced with relief as she finished at last. ‘How are you feeling now, dear?’

Tessa tried very hard to smile, but the savage pounding in her chest would not subside, and the light-headedness threatened again. She had to stay on two feet!

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ she managed to reply without her voice cracking.

‘At least you’ve already organised to come home to us for the rest of this week,’ Rosalind added, eying her daughter with concern. ‘You’ve been skipping lunch and now you’re having…what was it? A dizzy spell? Clearly you’re not looking after yourself properly, and I have enough to worry about. There’s still so much to be done before Saturday.’

Tessa muttered something safely submissive while she tried to hide her mounting alarm. Being at home for the last few days before her wedding with her mother fretting and fussing over reception details was one thing, but if Isaac was home, as well!

That was impossible, unthinkable. What was Isaac doing home? Why now? Of all the disastrous luck! He’d stayed away for nine years. Surely he could have waited for a few more days. How could he do this to her?

If only she’d insisted on staying in her own flat until Saturday, she thought with a stab of regret. But it was too late now. She’d already arranged for the new tenants to move in tomorrow.

Despair churned in Tessa’s stomach. ‘Would you mind making me a cup of peppermint tea, Mum? All the mugs and packets of tea and coffee are packed in a box on the kitchen bench.’

‘Of course. That’s just what you need. Let’s get you out of this dress first. There’s just one little rose to be reattached. Now, I’ll undo the back and we’ll have you out of there.’ Rosalind prattled on as Tessa raised her arms and the dress was carefully lifted over her head. ‘Don’t worry, darling. By the end of the week you will be safely married to Paul, and then everything will be all right.’

Another wave of dizziness threatened Tessa.

‘Everything will be fine then, won’t it?’ Rosalind asked.

‘Of course,’ Tessa answered softly.

As Rosalind made a beeline for the kitchen, her high heels tapping a no-nonsense beat across the terracotta tiles of the living area, Tessa mentally submerged that other question, the one that jumped out and startled her when she was least prepared. Sometimes it was there when she woke from restless dreams. Now it threatened her with renewed menace.

Of course she loved Paul!

She was really very happy. At least she was as happy as she could expect to be. She’d lost her chance for the Hollywood dream romance—that giddy once-in-a-lifetime kind of rapture—nine years earlier, when Isaac left. But there was absolutely nothing to be gained from dwelling on what happened to her when she was nineteen. She had a new life ahead of her now.

A good life.

And this unexpected return was not going to spoil it.

It had been a relief, after all the years of emptiness she’d suffered when Isaac left, to discover she was growing fond of Paul. He was so steady and obliging it was impossible not to find him charming. The fact that he had an enviable position in one of Townsville’s top law firms and that his family and hers were old friends were added bonuses.

That was what she must focus on now.

Changed into casual clothes, Tessa appeared in the kitchen minutes later as her mother lifted the kettle and filled a mug with boiling water. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, accepting the mug and gratefully sniffing the refreshing mint fragrance as she subsided onto a comfortable sofa.

Rosalind added milk to her cup of Earl Grey tea then sat down opposite her daughter, her long, slim legs crossed neatly.

‘This is all very upsetting,’ the older woman stammered. ‘What a day I’ve had. First Isaac appearing out of the blue and now your little, er, spell. What would Paul think if he heard you were wobbly on your feet at the mere mention of another man’s name?’

Tessa sighed and closed her eyes as she leant her head against the back of the sofa. She could feel the slanting rays of afternoon sunshine slipping through the wooden blinds and warming her closed eyelids. ‘It wasn’t just another man’s name, Mum. There’s quite a difference between hearing Isaac mentioned in passing and knowing that he’s actually come home! After nine years, of course it’s a shock. But,’ she added, opening her eyes and forcing her voice to sound as flippant as she could manage, ‘Isaac isn’t really another man—not in the sense I think you’re suggesting, anyhow. He’s only my foster brother.’

‘Oh, come on, Tessa,’ Rosalind said sharply, stirring her tea with unnecessary vigour. ‘I know you’ve always tried to hide your feelings for that foundling your father brought home, but…’

Tessa’s mouth dropped open, and she stared wide-eyed at Rosalind. ‘Mum, what are you talking about?’

Rosalind, her dark eyes fixed on her daughter’s pale face, took an infuriatingly long sip of tea before she spoke. ‘You don’t really think your own mother didn’t know what was going on, do you? My dear girl, from almost the day you turned fourteen, I watched you eat up that boy with your eyes whenever he was in the same room as you. All those hours you two spent away on the hill and down on the boat…’

The room swam. Tessa rubbed her eyes. She knew about the boat? How much did her mother know? Appalled, she took another sip of tea.

Rosalind continued. ‘Then there was the dreadful mess you made of your science degree after Isaac went away.’

‘But that was because…’ Because we were studying marine science together…going to save the world…planning to rescue every dolphin and discover the cure for cancer in some as yet undetected organism on the Great Barrier Reef. ‘…because I was never much good at science anyway! And I was such a child then.’

Now, with an education degree behind her and a satisfying position as a preschool teacher, Tessa considered herself past this kind of parental interrogation and reprimand. An angry telltale pink crept up her neck, and she could feel it warming her cheeks.

‘Of course it was a shock for all of us the way Isaac just disappeared without so much as goodbye,’ Rosalind remarked. ‘It nearly broke your father’s heart, as you well know. After all those years of a good home, education, love, to just disappear without a trace. It was jolly ungrateful. And it’s just too bad of him to come back now and spoil all our lovely plans.’

Tessa sat quiet and cold, listening to her mother’s claims, unable to respond.

‘But we mustn’t let this spoil things, must we, dear?’ Rosalind jumped up and took her cup and saucer to the kitchen. ‘We must get going. You bring your gown and overnight bag. I’ll look after these kitchen things. I think Paul has taken care of everything else, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s get going, then.’

Home. To Isaac.

Under other circumstances, Tessa would have protested at her mother’s domineering interference. Surely there was some alternative to living under the same roof as Isaac for the next four days? But the young couple who were to be the new tenants would never forgive her if she tried to change plans now. Places to rent were hard to find, and they had paid their bond and were so excited about having their own flat at last.

And in reality, given the hectic scattering and disordering of her thoughts since Isaac’s name had first been mentioned, her ability to take any kind of control had completely dissolved.

It was all very well for Rosalind to claim that they mustn’t let his return spoil things, but for Tessa, everything was totally spoiled already. The thought of Isaac home in Townsville sent her delicately rebuilt life teetering precariously, and she had absolutely no idea how much damage would result or how to avoid it.

She was terrified.

‘I don’t think you should drive for the rest of the week,’ Rosalind said as she put her key to the lock of her smart, navy blue sedan. ‘We can’t have you fainting at the wheel.’

Tessa paused in the process of arranging her wedding dress on the back seat. ‘I was nowhere near to fainting, Mum. Don’t exaggerate. Now that I’m over the shock, I’ll be fine. I—I’ve got Paul.’ She slid into the passenger’s seat next to her mother.

Rosalind paused before firing the ignition. ‘Yes, you do have Paul, darling. Don’t forget that. He’s a dear man, and just right for you.’ She steered the car into the late afternoon traffic.

A dear man, thought Tessa.

It was such an appropriate way to describe steady, dependable Paul. A dear man. A good man. No one had ever been tempted to describe Isaac that way. Sexy, sensuous, brooding, exciting, enticing, dangerous—the words that sprang to Tessa’s mind to define Isaac flowed with alarming ease. And as she thought about him, a strange yearning, a shocking, unchecked wildness percolated fiercely along her veins. Hateful! She must always remember the truth about him, she reminded herself swiftly.

But she couldn’t help asking, ‘Where has Isaac been?’

Rosalind took a corner at a quite reckless speed. Then she replied, almost guiltily, ‘To be honest, I’ve hardly spoken to him this afternoon. He did say something about mining over in Western Australia. Started out prospecting with some old fellow and worked his way up in the mining industry, I think. I believe he’s been quite successful. But it’s your father’s afternoon off, and he just greeted Isaac with open arms like the returned prodigal son, opened his last bottle of his favourite vintage claret, and they’ve been chatting for hours. I’m afraid I was too distressed to just sit and listen to them. I have so much still to do, of course, and—well, you know how close they always were.’

The car pulled up with a slight screech as they encountered a line of traffic at an intersection.

Her father had always loved Isaac, Tessa reflected. Bringing the street kid home one night when he found him sick and shivering on the steps of his general practice surgery had been quite out of character for Dr. Morrow, but something in Isaac’s intelligent, haunted face had touched the good man’s heart long before the boy stole Tessa’s. Isaac had lived with them for seven wonderful years after the official fostering papers had been signed.

And he’d been gone for nine after that fateful day.

Tessa quickly clamped down hard on her distracting thoughts and forced her mind to return to the safety of practical wedding plans. ‘I can’t wait to see the marquee when it’s all decorated. Have the bud lights arrived?’

‘Gardeners and Greene delivered all our orders this morning,’ Rosalind replied.

‘Great!’ It was so easy to sound reassuringly interested in other things, but the attempts to keep her thoughts from straying to Isaac were unsuccessful. How could she bear to see him again now? Another alarming thought jumped into her head. ‘Mum, Isaac’s not going to stay for the—for my wedding, is he?’

The car was climbing through the streets of Yarrawonga, which, clinging to the edge of Castle Hill with stunning sea views, was Townsville’s most prestigious suburb. They edged up the last steep incline to the Morrows’ house.

‘I have a strange feeling that might be why he came home,’ said Rosalind, her voice brittle with tension. ‘Of course, he claims he’s here on business with some big Asian mining company. But it is a strange coincidence, isn’t it?’

Tessa’s eyes stung with sudden hot tears. It was indeed very strange. And to have Isaac come back now, to have him present, actually watching her marriage to Paul Hammond, was worse than her most distressing nightmare. After all the long nights she’d lain in bed wondering about him, one minute crying for fear he was hurt or dead, and then wishing he was the next! How many times had her mind elaborated wildly on a bizarre range of horrific accidents?

Then eventually, after too long, she’d been numb enough to be able to force him to the back of her mind. And she had thrown herself into teaching her preschoolers with a passion that had delighted everyone and had brought her a measure of satisfaction. Her life, even if it felt continually at the low water mark, had resumed.

An off-the-road utility truck, black, new and very expensive looking, swathed in red dust, was parked in front of the Morrow house. It had to be Isaac’s. The shock wave that jolted through Tessa hurt to her very fingertips.

She couldn’t go inside, she decided. If seeing his car made her feel like this, how could she possibly face the man?

A blue heeler cattle dog sat in the back of the truck, keen eyes alert, ears pricked and tail wagging.

‘Of course I’ve insisted the dog stays in the truck,’ Rosalind muttered as she swung her car through the gates and swept up the steep drive beside the house. ‘It would make a terrible mess of the garden.’

‘Won’t he—it—get hot?’ asked Tessa lamely, wondering how any part of her mind could still function when she felt so dazed with dread.

‘Isaac’s brought a covered cage for him, and knowing him, he’ll take him for walks all over the hill. He’ll be all right. July is our coolest month, after all,’ replied Rosalind firmly as she wrenched on the handbrake and opened her door.

This was it.

Tessa tried to tell herself it was simply a matter of opening the car door, walking into her home and saying good afternoon to an old family friend. She would have preferred to walk into a creek full of man-eating crocodiles or into a dentist’s surgery to have all her teeth drilled.

Trembling with tension, she followed her mother into the dimmed interior of the house, which was shuttered from the glare of the western sun. They stepped silently through the spotless kitchen and across the carpeted lounge towards the outside deck.

Isaac’s voice, a familiar, deep, rumbling drawl, reached her first. Her heart thudded painfully. But what surprised her as she continued her journey was the sudden fatalistic calm that settled over her, as if the churning blood in her veins was transfused with something as soothing and innocuous as warmed honey.

It was almost as if she’d been sedated. She was able to dump her shoulder bag on the coffee table and walk towards the timber-framed doors that opened onto the deck as easily as she had when she was a thoughtless and carefree girl.

Is this how a fly feels as it enters a spider’s web? she wondered. Perhaps people heading for the guillotine experience this strange kind of peace in their final moments.

All it took was the sound of Isaac’s voice, and she was no longer fearful, but simply glad—overjoyed to be seeing her foster brother again.

And then her eyes found him.

Before she stepped out of the darkened room, she saw Isaac standing, leaning against a railing at the end of the deck. She stayed in the shadows to steady the sudden fillip in her heartbeat. Sun-dappled light filtering through overhead lattice played across his features, highlighting first the aristocratic brow and then the craggy bone structure, which looked for all the world as if it had been sculpted by a passionately impatient hand. Except for the mouth, which was moulded firmly and carefully, with lips full of sensuous promise.

His hair was longer than she remembered. Curling and black, it skimmed his collar, so that more than ever he looked like a dark-skinned Gipsy or a pirate, wickedly adventurous, scorning convention. As he always had, Isaac carried that indefinable air of danger that should have repelled her, but had always drawn her to him—against her better judgment and to her intense regret.

Despite the obvious quality of his clothes, Isaac wore them with elegant negligence. The untidiness was rescued by his erect and handsome figure, the breadth of his shoulders, the leanness of his hips and the length of his legs.

It was totally unforgivable of her to immediately make comparisons, but it hit her at once that a man more different from Paul could hardly be found.

While Paul’s face was round and placid, Isaac’s was rugged and hard. Paul’s eyes were a reflective, gentle grey. Isaac’s were black fire smouldering beneath brooding, dark brows. Just now, his eyes were shaded, but she caught the glint of heated ebony.

Her impulse came in a heartbeat. She rushed forward, hurtling across the deck, a small missile flying into his startled arms.

‘Isaac!’

After the countless hours she had idled away imagining their meeting and Isaac’s response, it was weird that now they were actually together again, her reaction was totally spontaneous, hopelessly unplanned.

And she gave herself no time to think of an aftermath. She simply buried herself into Isaac’s chest and waited for his strong arms to close around her and to hold her tightly to him as they had so often before in happier times.

She felt the violent tremor that shuddered through his lean body as she pressed against it. But no arms descended to enclose her as she waited there. And when she cautiously looked into his face, she caught a momentary flash of agony swiftly replaced by a shield of cold indifference.

He stiffened, as if repelled by her advance, and the tiny, impoverished spark of faith she’d never quite extinguished through all the long years since he’d left was snuffed in an instant.

‘Tessa, for heaven’s sake.’ Rosalind’s choked disapproval clanged in the air behind her.

She drew back, her hands falling lifeless to her sides. ‘Sorry,’ she said softly. ‘How…how are you, Isaac?’

‘I’m fighting fit,’ he replied, his eyes skittering ever so briefly over her hair, blond as ripe corn, her flushed face, simple blouse and slacks, then darting away to blink at the brick red bougainvillea, which hung from the trellis. ‘And how are you, Tessa?’

‘F-fine.’

‘Let me congratulate you.’ His eyes returned to her with lazy amusement, and he took her left hand, paying studious attention to her engagement ring. It was embarrassingly huge. An enormous emerald surrounded by brilliant diamonds. Tessa had always thought it too large and ostentatious for her fine bones, and because of her deep blue eyes, she hardly ever wore green, but Paul had been immensely proud of his selection.

As Isaac’s dark gaze rested on the ring, her pale hand trembled visibly within the heat of his sun-tanned grasp.

‘A fitting rock for the Queen of Castle Hill,’ he said coldly.