Hearts are on the line when a marriage of convenience goes awry… Pitch-perfect rural romance for readers of Karly Lane and Mandy Magro.
Home is where the heart is and for one country girl, she’ll do whatever it takes to save it…
Mila Hayes will do anything to keep her family’s farm, including marrying the wrong man. But when the groom backs out at the last minute, and Sawyer Mann, her teen crush and her brother’s best friend, witnesses her humiliation, Mila’s hopes plummet.
She doesn’t believe Sawyer when he says he can help. She’s done with short-term solutions. So how will Mila cope when she falls for Sawyer all over again and is forced into making a choice: follow her head or her heart?
Sawyer, now a high-powered land broker who fled Ashe Ridge years ago to escape painful memories, is back temporarily and finds himself unexpectedly drawn to Mila. He kept secrets from her in the past and it pushed them apart. Can he convince Mila this time will be different?
Meanwhile, Adelaide Hayes, who left her grumpy husband Jack fourteen years ago to follow her dreams, is unsettled by memories resurrected at Mila’s wedding. She’s wary of a man tied to this town, but what if he can prove they can build a new future together?
Mila Hayes took one look at the expression on her groom’s face and quashed her quip about how it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the ceremony.
Phil Baxter, her neighbour and a man she’d known since she was a kid, looked like he’d been kicked in the balls by his prized ram. ‘Is something wrong, Phil?’
A redundant question, considering he couldn’t meet her eyes. It gave her time to study the man she was about to marry. For a guy approaching fifty, he’d weathered the years well. While wrinkles crisscrossed his forehead and fanned from the corners of his eyes, his dark brown hair only had a few streaks of grey and he hadn’t gained a middle-aged pound. He scrubbed up well too, the tux giving the farmer an air of polish.
‘Phil?’ she prompted again, and when his gaze finally met hers, Mila’s stomach dropped.
He didn’t look like a guy about to get married in a few hours. He looked like a guy being tethered against his will to a ball and chain.
‘I’m sorry, Mila.’ He reached for her before thinking better of it and thrusting his hands into his pockets.
‘I can’t do this.’ Mila’s heart pounded and her skin grew clammy. This couldn’t be happening.
‘Everyone gets cold feet on their wedding day, Phil.’ She’d second-guessed her decision to marry a man seventeen years her senior who she didn’t love many times over the last three months since they’d decided to seal their business deal via matrimony. But she knew it was the only way to save her farm and family legacy.
Though there was more behind this marriage, and they knew it.
Life on a farm could be rewarding but the loneliness … it made her chest ache some nights. Having a frank conversation with Phil, a good friend she’d spent many evenings sharing a wine around a bonfire with, about what marriage could bring to them both had been the best thing she’d ever done. They’d been realistic during that initial discussion. Feelings may not be front and centre in their marriage, but their mutual respect as friends would make for a solid bond, and if either of them fell head over heels for someone else, they’d figure it out.
Whatever that entailed.
But the last thing she expected was Phil to back out on their wedding day. They’d both wanted this marriage: Phil needed more land for his growing sheep flock; she could provide it at a cost. So it seemed logical that once they marry, he helped her financially with as much as he could and she allowed him use of the land to expand his farm and bring in more money.
It seemed like a win-win at the time, with the bonus of marrying a mate who she liked and respected. She’d never been a hearts and flowers kind of girl—far too practical for that—and marriage hadn’t been part of her grand plans. But necessity had changed all that, and with time, who knew how happy she and Phil could be together? Partners in business and life. It had a nice ring to it.
‘Have a beer, Phil. It’ll settle your nerves.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not that, Mila.’ He grimaced and took a step back, like he expected her to slug him.
‘I’ve met someone. On a dating app a while ago. We’ve been chatting for months and we finally met in person a few days ago … I think she’s the one.’ Mila struggled not to laugh at the irony of her bachelor neighbour, who’d been single for over a decade, meeting someone when he was about to marry her.
‘We discussed this, Phil. As long as you’re discreet—’
‘She’s amazing and could be the love of my life, and I want a chance to explore a relationship with her,’ he blurted, flushing crimson. ‘I don’t want to risk something real for a business deal.’ As if sensing a battle, Phil squared his shoulders. ‘I know this leaves you in the lurch, but I can still help you financially—’
‘That won’t be necessary.’ The last thing Mila needed was to be in debt to her neighbour. It would’ve been easier if she could simply sell him the land in the first place, but some ancient subdivision clause that would cost more money than she had to work around it meant she couldn’t. Hence their unconventional marriage deal. So to have Phil offer her whatever money he could now … no, she’d rather take a bank loan; if they’d approve it, that is. She’d tried, twice, which is why she’d devised her last-resort marriage plan in the first place.
‘I truly am sorry, Mila.’ Phil shrugged, sheepish. ‘I’ll make the phone calls now and tell people not to come.’
‘You do that,’ she snapped, instantly regretting her churlish behaviour when he flinched. Because deep down, even though Phil reneging on their wedding meant she’d probably lose the one thing that meant everything to her, she was relieved. Marrying a mate for companionship and sound business practices rather than love had seemed like a good idea at the time when she’d exhausted every avenue to save the farm, but this morning, when she’d slipped into her wedding dress, pinned her hair in a loose up-do, and slathered makeup she rarely wore all over her face, she’d been plagued by doubts that left her nauseous.
What if their friendship soured once they lived together? What if they grew apart rather than closer? What if their marriage ended in a costly divorce? So many ‘what-ifs’ that left her second-guessing the wisdom of marrying, and now, Phil had taken the choice away from her.
‘We’re still mates, yeah?’ He took his hands out of his pockets and thrust one towards her to shake.
Mila sighed and shook his hand. ‘Yeah, we’re mates. Though this mystery woman better be pretty bloody special, otherwise I’ll cut all your fences and let your sheep out.’
He laughed and she managed a rueful chuckle, despite the panic building in her chest. Without Phil helping her finance the proposed farm-stay construction that would save Hills Homestead, what the hell was she going to do?
‘I better go make those calls,’ he said, and she’d never been more grateful that they’d kept the guest list small, confined to Phil’s two best mates, a few farming acquaintances, and his aunt. Mila had invited her grandad, but he didn’t approve so she doubted he’d turn up; her gran said she’d try to make it, but Tally Bay was a long way from Ashe Ridge; and her brother in London had contracted Covid at the last minute so couldn’t make the trip.
He half-turned before pausing, his gaze sweeping over her. ‘By the way, you look sensational.’
She jabbed a finger at him. ‘You don’t get to compliment me after ditching me.’
‘At least it didn’t happen at the altar.’
‘Lucky me,’ she muttered, her dry response earning a laugh.
‘I’ll reimburse you for any costs,’ he said. ‘Just let me know, okay?’
In that moment, the enormity of what she’d lost—namely, a chance to save the place she loved—hit hard, and she blinked away the unexpected sting of tears.
‘Go make those calls,’ she said, harsher than Phil deserved, and a frown grooved his brow as he cast her a concerned glance.
‘Go.’ She made a shooing motion with her hands and turned away, waiting until she heard the grumble of his ute’s diesel engine before allowing a few tears to fall. She wasn’t this person. She rarely cried, and she’d be damned if she shed tears over a man who’d been smart enough to see the benefits of a marriage based on friendship and for the good of their respective farms, but had fallen prey to Cupid at the last minute.
‘Screw this,’ she muttered, letting the anger she’d been keeping at bay flow. It filled her with a distinct urge to smash something. Her gaze landed on a mallet propped against a verandah post. She used it for hammering in garden stakes. But now, it would come in mighty handy for what she had in mind.
She picked it up, weighing it in her hand, savouring its heaviness. Perfect. Glancing at the arbour covered in Australian native flowers about two hundred metres away, she channelled every inch of outrage and marched towards it, fury fuelling every step.
When she reached the arbour she would’ve been exchanging vows under in a few hours, she spent a good minute staring at its natural beauty before hoisting the mallet and taking a swing at it. Those damn tears must’ve blurred her vision because she missed, and the momentum behind her vicious swing sent her sprawling in the red dirt beneath it, landing heavily on her elbow.
Pain ricocheted up her arm and spots danced before her eyes as she let out a curse. Her day couldn’t get any worse.
‘Need a hand, Gumnut?’
Hell. It just did.
That voice. The nickname.
No way.
It couldn’t be.
Then Sawyer Mann chuckled, catapulting her back to the first time they’d met, and she knew this all-round crappy day was about to get a whole lot worse.