Ava thought about the last night before they’d left for their ill-fated proposal. Zac staring down at her as he bared his soul. Why hadn’t she said yes then and there, and gone to Uluru the next day? No, she told herself. She would not languish in the what-ifs and maybes. That way lay the tension she’d vowed this morning she’d release. Instead, she would be grateful that they were alive and still had the chance to rediscover each other.

She would hold on to hope until the very last moment before he left Setabilly. She just prayed he’d give them time.

The new beginning started at breakfast.

‘Hello, Zac,’ she said brightly. He looked up and she smiled because he was alive. He could have been brain-damaged. Maimed. Dead. She was thankful!

In truth, the man seemed determined to scare the dickens out of her. Yes. It was wonderful to see him whole. He appeared a little startled by the warmth of her greeting, and the last thing she wanted to do was scare him away, so she explained.

‘I’ve been thinking about the accident, so it’s good to see you looking so well.’ She shook her head and sat down, trying not to stare. He was so broad and sexy, and she just wanted to feel him wrap her in his arms and tell her it had all been a bad dream, but for him there were no ‘magic times’ between them, no memories, certainly no proposal. She drew a breath. Things can turn out well if you allow yourself to trust, she told herself. Trust.

He put his spoon down in the middle of eating to look at her and she gestured to the teapot. ‘Would you like a refill?’

He nodded and she filled his cup so carefully it could have been liquid gold. She needed something normal to say. ‘Did you enjoy your evening with Poddy?’

His face lit up. ‘The stories! And the didgeridoo. Did you know didgeridoos are made from logs hollowed out by white ants?’

He was so animated. A lovely man eager for new experiences. Just not her lovely man. ‘Yes,’ she said, shutting down that line of thought. ‘There’s a gorgeous Dreamtime story of the first didgeridoo. Denise’s husband, Ernie, tells it really well. If you see him when you’re here we’ll ask him.’

Then she did something she’d avoided the whole time he’d been here. ‘I know we decided to let things work themselves out, but does it upset you to talk about your memory loss?’

Zac shook his head and his shoulders lowered a fraction with an obvious release of tension. He sat back in his chair. ‘It’s not interesting for anybody but me.’ He shrugged. ‘And thankfully, you. But I haven’t wanted to upset you by asking about the accident.’