Marion Lennox - Bushfire Bride

2000

Dear Reader,

Bushfires in Australia are terrifying and catastrophic, but theyre also unavoidable if our native forests are to regenerate. The blackened landscape means death and destruction-but it also promises new life.

The forest near my home was destroyed two years ago and afterward I drove across the charred landscape with despair. Now my dog, Harry, and I walk through the newly regenerated forest with joy.

Rachel, my heroine in Bushfire Bride, has also felt despair, but the Cowral Bay bushfire (as well as the Cowral Bay doctor!) brings her joy and laughter and a new beginning. As with our bushfire, the destruction signals a new beginning for a whole community.

This book is a celebration of life after catastrophe. I hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it.

Warm regards,

Marion Lennox

THE thin blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell. Rose and fell.

How long does love last?

The young woman by the bed should surely know. She sat and watched now as shed sat and watched for years.

I love you, Craig, she whispered, but there was no answer. There was never an answer.

Dappled sunlight fell over lifeless fingers. Beloved eyes, once so full of life and laughter, stayed closed.

The blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell.

I love you, Craig, she whispered again, and blessed his face with her fingers. My love

How long does love last?

For ever?

SHE may be beautiful but I bet shes stupid.

Dr Rachel Harpers hamburger paused midway to her mouth. Tomato sauce oozed onto her T-shirt, but her T-shirt was disgusting already. The sauce was the same colour as her pants. Hey-she was colour co-ordinated!

She was also distracted.

Look at her hair, the voice was saying. Itd cost a fortune to keep it like that, and what for? Shes a blonde bimbo, Toby, mark my words. A gorgeous piece of fluff.

But shes got lovely legs. The childs words were a thoughtful response to the mans deep rumble. And shes got really nice eyes.

Never be taken in by appearances, Toby, the deep voice decreed. Under that gorgeous exterior, shes nothing but a twit.

Enough! Rachel might be a reluctant protector, but she was here to defend and defend she would. She hitched back the curtain and faced the world.

Or, to be precise, she faced the Cowral dog show.

The pavilion was packed and shed retreated with her hamburger for a little privacy. The cubicles behind each dog werent big enough to swing a cat-or a dog-but at least they were private.

Who was criticising Penelope?

Hey! she said, and a man and a child turned to stare. She wiped a smudge of tomato sauce from her chin and stared right back.

Penelopes detractor was in his mid-thirties, she guessed. Maybe he was a farmer? Thats what he looked like. He was wearing moleskins and a khaki shirt of the type that all the farmers around here seemed to wear. His curly black hair just reached his collar. He had deep brown, crinkly eyes and, with his deeply tanned skin, he looked

Nice, Rachel decided. In fact, if she was being critical-and she was definitely in the mood for being critical-he looked more than nice. He looked gorgeous! The small boy beside him was aged about six, and he was a miniature replica. They had to be father and son.

Father and son. Family. The man was therefore married.

Married? Why was she wondering about married?

She gave herself a swift mental swipe for thinking of any such thing. Dottie had been doing her work too well. Why would Rachel possibly be interested in whether a complete stranger had a partner?

She was here with Michael.

But, then, who was she kidding? She was interested in anyone but Michael-married or not. The fact that she was married herself didnt-couldnt-matter. Dr Rachel Harper had reached her limit.

I need to show Penelope to gain championship points, Michael had told her one day at Sydney Central Hospital, where they both worked, and Dottie had pushed her to go. Get a life, shed said. Its time to move on.

So shed allowed herself to be persuaded. Rachel had imagined an hour or two displaying a beautiful dog, a comfortable motel in the beautiful seaside town of Cowral and the rest of the weekend lazing at the beach. Maybe Dottie was right. Shed had no holiday for eight years. She was exhausted past imagining. Maybe Dotties edict that it was time to move on was worth considering.

But Michaels dream weekend had turned out to be just that-a dream. Reality was guilt. It was also a heat wave, a motel that refused to take dogs and an entire weekend guarding Michaels stupid dog from supposedly jealous competitors.

Where was Michael? Who knew? She sighed and addressed Penelopes critics.

Penelopes been bred from two Australian champions, she told the stranger and his child, and she glared her very best putting-the-peasants-in-their-places glare.

Shes a very nice dog, the little boy said. He smiled a shy smile up at Rachel. Can I pat her nose?

She softened. Of course you can.

She might bite, the man warned, and Rachel stopped smiling and glared again.

Stupid dogs bite. Penelopes a lady.

Penelopes an Afghan hound.

So?

The mans lips twitched. There was laughter lurking behind those dark eyes and the beginning of a challenge. So shes dumb.

Rachel brightened. A challenge? Great. Shed been here too long. She was bored to screaming point. Anything was better than retreating to her soggy hamburger and yesterdays newspapers.

In truth, what she was aching for was a fight with Michael but he wasnt here. However, this man was the same species-male-and the laughter behind his eyes told her he was fair game.

Youre not only rude, she told him, her gaze speculative. Youre also racist.

He raised his brows and his brown eyes creased into laughing disbelief. Youre saying shes smart?

Shes a sweetheart. Rachel gave the great white hound a hug and then winced as a smear of ketchup soiled the dogs immaculate coat. Whoops. Michael would be out with his pistols.

Where was Michael?

You dont need to take my word for it, the man was saying. A small crowd was gathering now. The judging heats were over; final judging wasnt for another two hours and things were slow in the dog shed. Rachel wasnt the only one who was bored. Theres tests for dog intelligence.

Youre going to implement the MENSA quiz?

Nothing so complicated. Lend me a piece of your hamburger.

Lend Hey, get your own hamburger.

Its in the interest of scientific research, he told her.

My daddys a doctor, the little boy said, as if that explained everything.

Yeah? Doctor of what? Rachel grinned down at the kid, beginning to enjoy herself for the first time all weekend. It sounds a sneaky way to get some of my hamburger.

Its a simple experiment, the man told her, refusing to be sidetracked. See my dog?

The stalls and their associated sleeping quarters were raised almost three feet above the ground. Rachel peered over the edge. A lean, brown dog of indeterminate parentage gazed back at her. As big as a collie, the mutt was all legs, tail and eyes. As Rachel gazed down at him, he raised his back leg for a weary scratch.

Charming, Rachel said. Great party trick.

Digger doesnt do party tricks.

She nodded in sympathetic understanding. I guess you need to be house-trained to be let into parties.

The mans grin matched hers. War hadnt just been declared-the first shots had been fired. Are you implying Diggers not house-trained?

Seeing is believing. This was OK, she decided. For the first time since shed been conned into coming to this last bastion of civilisation, she was having fun. Guilt could be forgotten-for the moment. Penelope against Digger. It was a crazy conversation. She wasnt sure how it had started but she didnt intend to stop. Breeding will out, she declared.