From USA Today bestselling Australian author Nicola Marsh comes a compelling story of love, redemption and community.

When the past crashes into the future, there’s more than hearts on the line.

Natasha Trigg leads a simple life in small-town Brockenridge. She works at the roadhouse, has good friends, and at the centre of her world is her daughter, Isla. She knows dumping musician Kody Lansdowne thirteen years ago by misleading him about her pregnancy was best in the long run. She drove him away so he could achieve his dreams but has always felt guilty. When a matchmaking Isla invites a surprise new neighbour to dinner, Tash and Kody come face to face once again…

Now a bona fide rockstar, Kody’s in hiding to sort through the mess his life has become after a concert resulted in devastation. The last thing he needs is discovering he has a child. Especially as it means the one woman he’s never been able to forget is now permanently part of his life. Pity he’s so furious with her…

For Jane Jefferson, who has deliberately fooled townsfolk into believing her reputation is worse than it is for years, a second chance is something she thought she’d never get. Reconnecting with friendships she thought lost forces her to face the question: do past mistakes define you forever?

While navigating the troubled waters of forgiveness, friendship and love, will these three Brockenridge residents discover everyone deserves a second chance?

PROLOGUE

Melbourne
Thirteen years ago

‘Natasha Trigg.’ The bouncer—sporting five piercings in his right brow, a nose ring and bulging muscles stretching his black T-shirt to ripping point—consulted his list before nodding. ‘Head on through.’ He lowered the crimson rope to let Tash pass.
She hesitated, fear of what she had to do rendering her immobile, and earning her a glower from the bouncer.
‘In or out?’
She willed her feet to move towards the main entrance of the Princeton Hotel in cosmopolitan St Kilda. The pub showcased local talent, but tonight, she didn’t care about the music. She’d come here for one reason only.
To break up with Kody Lansdowne, front man for Rock Hard Place.
Ironic, as that’s exactly where she’d found herself: between the proverbial rock and a very hard place. But she’d made her decision. She had to follow through. No way would she be responsible for ruining his dream. Even if hers had come crashing down the moment she’d peed on that white stick and glimpsed two vertical blue lines.
Leaving Brockenridge to study nursing in Melbourne, escaping the watchful eyes of her zealous parents, whose religion ruled every aspect of their lives and hers, had been a dream come true. Maybe her do-gooder parents had passed on their benevolent genes, because she loved helping people. She’d kept her head down for the first two years, hiding out in the nursing quarters attached to the university, determined to focus on her studies and not be distracted by the glitter of the city. Until she’d been dragged to the Princeton one balmy summer’s night by a bunch of nursing students determined to consume their body weight in vodka and had met Kody.
Her first love. Her first everything. Tonight, she’d come here to tell him the truth. Her version of it, because no way in hell would she be responsible for ruining his dream when her own lay in tatters courtesy of dodgy contraception.
Hiding this secret burned a hole in her gut, making it impossible to keep anything down. Though that could be the morning sickness.
She’d rehearsed her spiel many times over the last twenty-four hours, knowing Kody would use every weapon in his charismatic arsenal to sway her. But she’d made her decision. She had to stick to it, no matter how badly her chest tightened with sorrow every time she thought about having to push him away.
She’d timed her arrival for the last song of the band’s set, knowing she couldn’t stand around for hours pretending to enjoy herself. A jarring guitar riff assaulted her ears as she edged her way into the crowded room where the love of her life and his band took centre stage. Her heart flipped as it always did when she caught sight of him and she blinked back the sting of tears. Damn hormones.
Kody dominated the stage and it had nothing to do with his six-two height, dark curly hair, mesmerising brown eyes and smile that made women fall at his feet: he had a presence that captivated everyone in the room and when he opened his mouth to sing—she’d never heard anything like it. Deep, gravelly, sexy, his voice transcended time and she wasn’t surprised he’d captured the attention of an LA recording studio. Ironic that the night he’d told her all his dreams of being a rock star were about to come true was the night she’d planned to tell him about the baby.
She’d had it all figured out: they’d rent a small two-bedroom bungalow by the bay. Maybe Elwood, Elsternwick or South Melbourne, somewhere close enough for him to continue inner-city gigs while she completed her nursing degree. Kody had a massive network of friends and she’d envisaged arranging babysitting through one of them while juggling her studies. They would make it work, creating a close, loving family, the kind she’d never had.
But Kody had been hyper that night, pouncing on her the minute she stepped into his tiny studio apartment, picking her up and swinging her around until she’d become dizzy. He’d kissed her, deeply, passionately, in the way she’d never been kissed before him, then told her his good news in a rush, the words tumbling over themselves in his excitement.
A leading LA producer had been in Melbourne for a music awards show, seen Rock Hard Place at a gig and waited to speak to Kody afterwards. While he couldn’t promise anything, the producer had the power to catapult Rock Hard Place towards the kind of fame most musicians only dream about.
Tash had been genuinely happy for him, swept up in his excitement even as a small part of her died. There’d be no moving in together, no shared parenting, no family. Instead, she’d be forced to move back to Brockenridge to live with her disapproving parents who would alternate between berating her for being so stupid and lecturing her about falling prey to the devil. But it would be a small price to pay if one of them got to live their dream. She loved Kody that much.
As if sensing her presence now, Kody’s eyes locked on hers across the crowded room. He smiled, lighting up the part of her soul that would never forget him. He hauled the microphone stand close, caressing it, and she tingled with the memory of how he did the same to her body.
‘I’d like to dedicate this song to the most beautiful girl in the world,’ he said as raucous cheers and foot stomping filled the room. The lights went out, save for a lone spotlight on Kody, who was sitting on a bar stool, an acoustic guitar resting on his knee. And when he began to sing about love and adoration and soul-deep connection, Tash couldn’t stem the tears. She could’ve sworn the entire room disappeared and it was just the two of them as he crooned lyrics meant for her.
When he plucked the final chord, the room erupted into applause and Tash knew the time had come. Dragging in a shaky breath, she shouldered her way to the side of the stage. One of the roadies saw her and waved her over, allowing her to slip backstage, where Kody swept her into his arms and buried his face in her neck.
She loved the smell of him after a performance: sweat mingled with deodorant—uniquely Kody and she wished she could imprint this on her memory for the long, lonely nights ahead.
When he released her, he tipped her chin up so he could stare into her eyes. ‘You’re usually as pumped as me after a gig. What’s up?’
‘Not here,’ she said, snagging his hand and tugging him towards a door that led out into a laneway. When the door slammed shut behind them, she led him to a quiet corner behind some stacked beer kegs.
‘You’re worrying me—’
‘I’m pregnant, Kody, but you don’t have to worry because I’m getting rid of it.’ She had to say the words in a rush, otherwise she’d never get them out. She needed him to believe she was the worst person in the world or she wouldn’t get through this without burying herself in his arms for comfort.
He paled, then blinked several times, before releasing her hand and staggering back like she’d slapped him. ‘Don’t I get a say in this?’ He shook his head, his lips flattening. ‘This is my kid too.’
‘Yeah, but it’s my body, and I don’t want a baby now. It would ruin everything.’
His upper lip curled in derision. ‘Right. Your precious nursing degree.’
He made it sound like she wanted to pole dance for a living. He’d never stared at her with loathing before and his narrow-eyed glare made her second-guess her decision for a moment.
But she had to do this. Had to make him hate her. There was no other choice.
‘Good luck in LA,’ she said, managing to stop her voice from quivering as she turned and walked away.
She willed him to come after her, to say that he wanted a baby with her, that he wanted a family, that he wanted her to come with him.
Instead, she heard a string of muttered curses before a door slammed.
Kody had believed her. She should be relieved. Yet all she felt was soul-deep sorrow.

CHAPTER 1

Brockenridge
Present day

Tash slid the last bolt home on the front door of The Watering Hole and joined her co-workers at a table near the kitchen. Usually she loved their evening planning meetings when they brainstormed ideas for the month ahead, but tonight her heart wasn’t in it. All she could think about was the argument she’d had with Isla this morning, arguments that were becoming more frequent with her twelve-year-old daughter. Most of them centred around the identity of Isla’s father.
It had been easier when Isla was younger. Back then, she’d been satisfied with a vague answer or an ‘I don’t know’ before being distracted with a banana muffin or a blueberry smoothie. But with Isla’s growing online expertise, Tash knew it would only be a matter of time before her daughter wanted to do a little research of her own.
Tash couldn’t tell her the truth. Not when Isla’s father was plastered across the internet. She’d ditched the habit of following his career online years ago, around the time he’d won his umpteenth award. Tash had achieved what she’d set out to do—set Kody free to find success—and while following Kody’s every step as Rock Hard Place took the world by storm had been the only bright spot in her lonely existence as a struggling single mother, she’d eventually stopped torturing herself with what might have been.
She’d anticipated help from her parents upon her return to Brockenridge. She’d been wrong. They’d heard her out, glowered at her still-flat belly and announced they were moving hours away. So much for religion fostering acceptance and forgiveness.
‘Hey, what’s taking you so long?’ Ruby pushed out the wooden chair opposite with her foot. ‘Take a seat so we can get started.’
‘You’re much bossier than Clara ever was,’ Tash said, glad they’d all reached a place where they could mention Ruby’s mum, the original owner of the roadhouse, without awkwardness. It was a year since Clara had died and Ruby had returned to Brockenridge to discover she’d inherited the roadhouse. In that time, Ruby had convinced her high school boyfriend not to tear the roadhouse down in favour of a fancy-schmancy country club and Alisha, the road-house hostess, had hooked up with Harry, the roadhouse’s chef. It was a regular love-fest around the place and, while Tash was happy for them all, she couldn’t help but feel like a spare wheel at times.
‘My bossiness is what’s making this place thrive, so you should be grateful,’ Ruby said, with a smile. ‘Okay, first up—Harry, why don’t you give us a rundown of the new menu?’
Tash tuned out when Harry started listing his latest culinary creations, most of them a unique blend of Indian and Aussie tucker. With Alisha being Indian, he’d adopted some of the recipes she’d taught him, and while Tash loved his curry beef pie and chilli scrambled eggs, she drew the line at his baingan bharta nachos: corn chips covered in a spicy eggplant stew.
‘Thanks, Harry.’ Ruby ticked off a few points on her list. ‘Alisha, why don’t you give us a rundown of the bands for the upcoming theme nights?’
Tash stiffened at the mention of bands as she inevitably did and forced herself to relax. Nobody but Alisha knew the identity of Isla’s father and she’d like to keep it that way. Thankfully, her friend never brought up the subject, not since Tash had burst into embarrassing tears several years ago when Alisha had suggested she tell Kody the truth. The thought had crossed her mind, several times, but with every album release, every hit song, every award, Tash’s resolve waned. Kody had endless funds to fight a lengthy custody battle and losing her precious daughter was one thing Tash wouldn’t gamble on.
‘We’ve got three local bands lined up for the regular blues nights, but no rock band for the gig in eight weeks,’ Alisha said, with a grimace. ‘I’ve tried reaching out to a few managers and event coor-dinators, but nada.’
‘Thanks, keep trying.’ Ruby ticked off another task and circled ‘rock band’ on her list. ‘Tash, have you found extra staff for the theme nights?’
Feeling like the failure of the group as always, she shook her head. ‘I’ve advertised in town and moved further afield to Echuca, but no luck. Plenty of teens want to apply but they can’t work here because of the liquor licensing rules. I’ll keep looking.’
‘Okay,’ Ruby said, running an orange highlighter through the ‘find wait staff’ task on her list. ‘Anyone have anything else to raise?’
Alisha stuck her hand in the air like a kid in primary school.
‘What is it, Lish?’ Ruby asked.
‘Uh … well … the thing is …’ Alisha trailed off, a faint blush staining her cheeks.
‘For goodness’ sake. We’re engaged,’ Harry muttered. ‘And we’re not mucking about with any big wedding hoopla, so we’d like to hold the reception here, if that’s okay with you.’
The initial shocked silence gave way to an excited whoop as Ruby leapt from her chair to hug the happy couple. ‘Congratulations, you two. Of course you can have your reception here.’
Ruby hugged Alisha, then Harry, and Tash followed suit, murmuring, ‘About bloody time,’ in Harry’s ear, and, ‘I’m so happy for you, sweetie,’ in Alisha’s.
Alisha and Harry had been her best friends for years. They’d sup-ported her through her pregnancy when she’d started waitressing at the roadhouse after returning home from Melbourne as a terrified, pregnant twenty-year-old. They’d helped her convince Clara to offer a pay rise when she’d used the last of her savings and had a six-month-old to support. They’d wiped away her tears on Isla’s first day at preschool, school and, recently, high school. They’d been more of a support system than her parents had ever been and she loved them dearly. So why the tiny niggle of regret that everything in her well-ordered life was changing?
‘When’s the big day?’
‘In six weeks,’ Alisha said, beaming at her prospective groom. ‘We’re too old to wait.’ It made sense, as Tash knew Alisha wanted to have a baby ASAP—she’d just turned forty-three.
‘I’m the only old fart around here,’ Harry muttered, his bashful grin endearing. ‘I’m fifty-two, you know.’
Ruby laughed. ‘Yeah, you’re old.’
Tash added a guffaw. ‘Practically ancient.’
‘Hey, you two, settle down. I’ll have you know I’m extremely fit for my age.’ Harry flexed his biceps in a double cobra that had them all laughing again.
‘I can vouch for that,’ Alisha said, with a wink, and Tash groaned.
‘Too much information.’
Ruby’s smile widened as she said, ‘Gross.’
‘I’ve already typed the date into the computer to secure the booking,’ Alisha said, back to business. ‘Because there’s nowhere else we want to have our reception.’
Ruby’s grin faded. ‘Who’s going to cater? Harry can’t cook for his own wedding.’
Harry shot Tash a look she had no hope of interpreting. ‘Well, I was hoping Tash could use her influence with the bakery in town for our cake, and I’ll approach our favourite wine bar in Echuca to cater, if that’s okay?’
‘Perfect,’ Ruby said.
Tash nodded. ‘Sure, I’ll organise the cake. Just email me a few pics of what you want and your budget, and I’ll get it sorted.’
Harry visibly relaxed, and Alisha said, ‘Thanks, Tash, we knew we could count on you.’
Ruby rubbed her hands together. ‘Who’s up for a celebratory champagne?’
Tash had pulled a double shift and couldn’t wait to get out of here, pick Isla up from netball practice, and head home. But these people were family and she owed them.
‘Sure, but only half a glass for me,’ she said, holding her thumb and forefinger two inches apart. However, before Ruby could pop the cork, Tash’s mobile rang and her heart stuttered when she glimpsed Isla’s ID on the screen. Isla rarely called and especially not in front of her friends if she could help it. Which meant this call could be important.
She stabbed at the answer button with her thumb. ‘Hey, Isla, everything okay?’
The long pause made Tash’s fingers clench around the phone and press it closer to her ear. ‘Isla?’
A stifled sob had Tash on her feet in a second. ‘Mum, can you come and get me now?’
‘Absolutely. What’s happened?’
‘I pushed Dennie and she’s hurt and I’m in trouble and everything’s a mess.’
Tash’s gut churned with trepidation. Isla was a good kid, she never fought, which meant something had precipitated this out-of-character action. ‘Sit tight, honey, I’ll be there ASAP.’ She paused, adding, ‘Everything will be okay,’ before hanging up.
Alisha touched her arm and Tash jumped. ‘You all right?’ Tash shook her head, blinking back the sting of tears. ‘Isla’s in trouble, I have to go,’ she said, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. ‘Sorry I can’t stay for a champers.’
‘Go,’ Alisha said, waving her away.
‘Let us know if you need anything,’ Ruby added.
‘Thanks,’ Tash said, before pushing through the back door of the roadhouse and sprinting for her car.

CHAPTER TWO

Kody had always lived on the edge. As a foster kid, he’d been the first one to pick a fight, to taunt a bully, to stand up to ‘parents’ who were supposed to care for him. He’d taken risks: with his body, his music. But nothing came close to the rush of arriving back in Melbourne for the first time in thirteen years. Crazy, because he’d been offered exorbitant sums of money to play concerts here the last few years; huge, seven-figure sums the other band members had urged him to accept. He never did, because Melbourne held nothing but bad memories for him. He’d lived rough in this city, had his heart broken, lost a child he never knew he wanted until the decision was taken away from him.
Melbourne was the pits, which is why he couldn’t stay to recuperate. Instead, he’d hired a car and made the four-hour drive north to the Murray River. Yanni, his drummer and best mate, had a holiday shack in some backwater town on the border and had insisted he use it for however long he wanted. Right now, Kody had no idea how long that would be. One month? Two? He didn’t care. Time was irrelevant, considering he could barely function these days.
Causing the deaths of seven innocent people did that to a guy.
The silence of the car interior made his fingers itch to turn on the radio but he hadn’t been able to listen to music since the accident. It had been a long four hours alone with his self-flagellating thoughts skipping like a stuck LP. He’d never been to this part of Victoria before, with its rolling hills and barren paddocks interspersed with sparsely populated towns. Not that he cared about the scenery. Everything he needed was packed in the car boot: two crates of bourbon, a suitcase of clothes and a box of groceries so he could lay low for at least a week without heading into town. Last thing he needed was locals recognising him and leaking to the press where he was. That’s why he really hoped the supermarket did home delivery, but when he’d asked Yanni, his drummer had laughed. Apparently Yanni holidayed in Brockenridge whenever he came home and no one had ever recognised him. Exactly why Kody had jumped at the chance to hide out there.
A sign indicated he had another twenty kilometres to go as he cruised past a roadhouse, labelled The Watering Hole in bright neon light. He’d seen similar places in the USA in the early days when the band’s coach would cruise from Alabama to Utah, California to Nevada, Texas to Georgia, keen to play as many gigs as humanly possible to lift their profile.
It had worked too, the slow burn of Rock Hard Place exploding into a furore of fame when they’d landed the prized gig of opening act for America’s number one rock band. His dream had come true. Fame. Fortune. Adoration.
Yet here he was, turning his back on it all because he couldn’t sing a note anymore. His vocal cords had seized the moment he’d heard about those poor people dying because of him. He’d had to walk away from the love of his life, music.
That had been a month ago and his manager, along with his band, had insisted he find somewhere to get his head straightened out after he’d spent the last four weeks holed up in a Wellington hotel, drink-ing himself into a stupor or dosed up on tranquilisers. Roger, Yanni, Blue and Daz were the closest thing he had to family and when they’d ambushed him with an intervention-style dressing down, he’d finally admitted the truth: he was a mess. He needed to get away, somewhere off the grid, somewhere he could work through his issues.
They expected him to come back to Melbourne some time in the not too distant future to work out the band’s next tour, with the hope Rock Hard Place would be bigger and better than ever. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them his music career was over. They’d find out soon enough.
He hit the outskirts of town, not surprised to see the main street flanked by pubs in typical Aussie fashion. There was the requisite bakery, a small supermarket, op shop, cafés and Chinese restaurant, a surprisingly upmarket medical centre and a town square. Yanni was right, the place had an understated charm. Not that it mattered. Kody wouldn’t be spending any time here. He’d be holed away drinking himself into oblivion.
Yanni’s house sat on a small hillside at the highest point of a dead-end road, Wattle Lane. He should’ve known his mate’s version of ‘shack’ resembled a sprawling homestead that looked straight out of an architectural digest. The entire place gleamed, with its sandstone façade, gunmetal steel roof and wrap-around veranda in contrasting sienna.
He parked the car around the back and stepped out, wincing as his knee buckled slightly. That’d teach him for doing one too many leaps into mosh pits in his early days. Those heady, crazy days when he’d known he’d had the talent to make it big but needed a break. Those exciting days filled with dreams and promise—and Tash.
Crap, where had that come from? He hadn’t thought of her in a long while. That’s all he needed when he was already feeling lower than low. The way she’d callously dumped him and announced he had no say in whether he wanted a child or not … he’d been so mad he’d channelled his fury and frustration into making those first few months in LA count. And he hadn’t looked back. Neither had he succumbed to the temptation to look her up online. Not that he would’ve found much. She’d stayed off social media even when they’d been dating, citing nosy parents.
Back then, he’d been so damn angry with her, though he had to acknowledge a small part of him had been relieved. He’d been on the cusp of breaking out with that LA producer and a baby would’ve seriously crimped his plans. But rather than supporting her through an abortion that must’ve been rough, he’d turned his back on her.
Shame burned deep and he muttered a curse as he stomped towards the homestead. He couldn’t change the past but for however long it took to shake the funk plaguing him, hiding out here was his future.

Nicola Marsh

USA Today bestselling and multi-award winning author Nicola Marsh writes feel-good fiction…with a twist.

She has published seventy books and sold over eight million copies worldwide. She currently writes rural romance for HarperCollins Australia’s Mira imprint, emotional domestic suspense for Hachette UK’s Bookouture and contemporary romance for Harlequin Dare.

She’s a Romantic Book of the Year and National Readers’ Choice Award winner.

A physiotherapist for thirteen years, she now adores writing full time, raising her two dashing young heroes, sharing fine food with family and friends, barracking loudly for her beloved North Melbourne Kangaroos footy team, and curling up with a good book!

Readers can visit Nicola at her website: www.nicolamarsh.com

From USA Today bestselling Australian author Nicola Marsh comes a compelling story of love, redemption and community.

When the past crashes into the future, there’s more than hearts on the line.

Natasha Trigg leads a simple life in small-town Brockenridge. She works at the roadhouse, has good friends, and at the centre of her world is her daughter, Isla. She knows dumping musician Kody Lansdowne thirteen years ago by misleading him about her pregnancy was best in the long run. She drove him away so he could achieve his dreams but has always felt guilty. When a matchmaking Isla invites a surprise new neighbour to dinner, Tash and Kody come face to face once again…

Now a bona fide rockstar, Kody’s in hiding to sort through the mess his life has become after a concert resulted in devastation. The last thing he needs is discovering he has a child. Especially as it means the one woman he’s never been able to forget is now permanently part of his life. Pity he’s so furious with her…

For Jane Jefferson, who has deliberately fooled townsfolk into believing her reputation is worse than it is for years, a second chance is something she thought she’d never get. Reconnecting with friendships she thought lost forces her to face the question: do past mistakes define you forever?

While navigating the troubled waters of forgiveness, friendship and love, will these three Brockenridge residents discover everyone deserves a second chance?

PRAISE FOR NICOLA MARSH:

‘A satisfying read with plenty of drama and a big dollop of romance.’ – The Weekly Times

‘Her style is compassionate, witty and engaging with a diverse character set and a palpable love of the region she has set the story. ‘ – Mic Loves Books

FIND IT HERE