The Doctor, His Daughter And Me

And, in a way, she’d been right.

She now had a fulfilled life with a satisfying job and she was more beautiful than ever. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had dozens of admirers and could have the pick of the bunch. In fact Ryan was surprised she hadn’t remarried.

But that was her business.

He had no right to interfere with what she’d worked so hard to achieve.

It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d just have to ignore the churning deep in his belly and the ache in his heart and get on with his own life. Thinking that there was even the remotest chance they could get back together was an aberration. Tara’s attitude to him had verified that.

Ryan slowed down as he reached the outskirts of the town. He suddenly felt exhausted. It had been a long day and he’d had an early start, which made the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and a soft bed very attractive.

The Riverside Motel, Tara had said.

He travelled slowly through Keysdale’s sleepy town centre until he saw a sign pointing east towards the river. After about half a kilometre the motel came into view, and he shifted his focus from ruminations about Tara to the practicalities of organising his accommodation for the night.

Two rows of tidy units nestled on the banks of the Keysdale River. Most had views of the lush green paddocks beyond and it was quiet, away from traffic noise and had an air of relaxed tranquillity about it.

He pulled up in front of the office, got out of his black sports car and stretched. He’d done too much driving that afternoon, and his right hip ached from the bursitis he got when he sat for too long. A bell above the office door tinkled as he opened it but there was no one inside. He gazed around, noting the tourist brochures advertising the history museum, a dairy called The Milk Factory, whitewater rafting and half a dozen local restaurants.

He took a double-take and grabbed a leaflet, but before he had a chance to look at it more closely a plump, middle-aged woman emerged from a back room.

She smiled and greeted him.

‘Hello, sir. Do you want a room?’

‘Yes, just for tonight.’ He explained his requirements for regular accommodation and they came to an arrangement.

‘Here’s your key. Your room’s nice and quiet with a wonderful view.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘Dinner is served from six-thirty to eight-thirty and there’s a menu in your room for breakfast orders.’

‘Thank you.’

The woman glanced at the leaflet he was still clutching in his hand.

‘Well worth a visit if you’ve time.’

‘Maybe next time,’ he said as he turned to leave.

‘Enjoy your stay, Mr Dennison.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ he said cheerily, trying to convince himself, but he knew he’d spend most of his spare time soul-searching.

Before he climbed into his car he had a closer look at the brochure.

THE MILK FACTORY.

EXPERIENCE A WORKING DAIRY FARM FIRST HAND

Ten kilometres south of Keysdale, on Hill Park Road.

He scrutinised the photo then unfolded the leaflet.

Open for tours. Devonshire teas.

10 a.m. to 5 p.m. weekends and public holidays

Dairy tours including real-life milking 3 p.m.

Proprietors: Graham and Jane Fielding

He hadn’t even noticed.

There would have been signs. How could he have missed them? He must have been so focused on seeing Tara he’d been oblivious to anything else.

But it made him think.

Were the Fieldings struggling to make ends meet?

Did Tara have to go out to work?

Did the accident have anything to do with their situation?

He felt discomfort in the pit of his stomach.

So much had changed in the years since he’d lost contact with Tara and her family. His ex-wife certainly had.

He drove to his unit, grabbed his briefcase and overnight bag and let himself in. He rummaged in a tiny cupboard above the sink, found a sachet of instant coffee and filled the kettle. When the brew was made, he opened the sliding door which led to the veranda. The setting sun cast long shadows across the river and a cow’s gentle mooing echoed in the quiet. He seemed to have the place to himself.

With time to think.

About Tara.

It was impossible to erase her, and all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her more than a decade ago, from his mind.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and her fighting spirit had not been dulled by circumstance or time.

It suddenly occurred to him that he’d found out what he needed to know—he still loved her.

But he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about it.

After Ryan left, Tara needed some alone time to gather her thoughts, so she stayed on the veranda and watched a golden sun sink slowly towards the horizon.

Why?

Why now?

She’d mourned her decision to send Ryan away every day. The flame of her love for him still burned brightly, and seeing him again. It was like a dam bursting—as if time had stood still for those eight years and suddenly she was looking into the eyes of the man who, for her, would always be her soul mate.

How should she react?

He was divorced, but there was no way they could start again. She had a satisfying life she’d worked hard to achieve and Ryan had his life in the city. It shouldn’t be difficult to act cool and detached and very professional. After all she would rarely see him.

Yes … cool, detached and professional. She could do that.

Couldn’t she?

CHAPTER TWO

‘THE new orthopaedic surgeon starts today,’ said Kaylee, the young receptionist, as she operated the pneumatic lift that moved Tara’s wheelchair from her vehicle and placed it on the ground. Tara preferred to use her electric chair at work, as it provided greater manoeuvrability, but getting it on and off her vehicle was one of the few things she couldn’t manage herself and had reluctantly learned to live with.

‘I know.’ Tara had been counting the days and psyching herself up for her first meeting with Ryan in the workplace. None of the staff were aware of her history with him. Of course some of the close-knit community knew she’d been married, but Ryan was a city man, born and bred. He’d hated the idea of any kind of fuss and had always been a reluctant participant in their rare visits to the farm. And, the way she was feeling right now, it was a good thing. She didn’t want the burden of gossip to stress her any more than she was already. She certainly wasn’t prepared for a public airing of her past, which she’d spent the best part of the last eight years trying to forget.