Jilted. Rachael Johns

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      “Always about you,” muttered Lauren. She turned and headed back toward the nurses’ station.

      Fifteen minutes later and not nearly quickly enough, Ellie and Sheila had Matilda settled as best they could in the front seat of the golden Premier.

      “Are you sure you’re comfortable?” Ellie asked as she reversed the beast out of the parking spot.

      Matilda shuffled slightly in her seat. “Don’t worry about me. Did she leave claw marks?”

      Ellie summoned a chuckle. Typical Matilda, worrying about everyone else when she needed all her energies for herself.

      “You mean Lauren? She didn’t bother me. I just can’t believe she’s a nurse.”

      “Stranger things have happened at sea,” Mat surmised, quoting one of her favorite phrases. “Besides, everyone knows she only did it for the cute, wealthy doctors.”

      Ellie couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Has she had any luck?”

      “None whatsoever!” Matilda roared. “Oh, we’ve had plenty of eligible doctors pass through. All are more than happy to pamper her desires while in town. But much to her dismay, none of them ask her to go with them when they move on.” Matilda paused, then added with a wicked tone, “Perhaps she should have become an actress instead.”

      Ellie’s laugh was drier this time. “Trust me, there’s no surefire success there, either.”

      On-screen and off, the best love she’d ever had was during her time in Hope Junction. Misfortune had played a hand in the demise of that relationship, and she’d been unlucky in love ever since.

      “Here we are,” she announced.

      A fact about small-town life: it didn’t take any time at all to get from one place to another, which wasn’t always a good thing. Travel time had its perks— opportunities to ponder, talk, read or just rest. But Matilda’s whole face lit up as she stared delightedly at her cottage.

      “Now we just have to work out how to unfold the wheelchair and get you inside.”

      An “ugh” escaped Matilda’s lips and the joy on her face softened. She gestured to her plastered limb. “If this is God’s idea of a joke, I’m crossing to the dark side.”

      Ellie smiled. She wasn’t sure she believed in God—some days she did, some she didn’t, and some it didn’t seem possible that there wasn’t a divine creator of some kind. More often than not she had her doubts. Matilda’s beliefs weren’t conventional, either.

      “Perhaps God is just trying to tell you to slow down, rest a little.”

      Matilda aimed her middle finger skyward. “Bollocks to that.”

CHAPTER THREE

      AT THE HAMMERING on his front door, Flynn shook his head and stumbled from the couch. He’d been there for the past couple of hours, staring at a mark on the wall. His stomach groaned, alerting him to the fact it was probably way past lunch.

      “Flynn, what are you doing in there?” Lucy’s high-pitched shout shot through his head. “You’d better be ready.”

      “What are you talking about?” He opened the door and felt his body tighten at the sight of his little sister. Dressed in black tights, ridiculously high-heeled boots, a long-sleeved T-shirt that looked three sizes too small and a skirt he practically needed a magnifying glass to see, Lucy was doing a fabulous impersonation of a street-side hooker. He couldn’t imagine why his mom was letting her loose like that. Maybe she’d used up all her parenting energies dealing with him in his wayward years.

      “Flynn!” She seethed angry air between her teeth and held up her chunky Hope Hurricanes purple-and-orange scarf, proceeding to wave it in his face. “You’re supposed to be driving me into town for the game.” She looked him up and down, her eyes widening as she took in his holey track pants and scruffy sweater. “And you’re supposed to be playing.”

      “Damn.” The game had completely slipped his mind. He rubbed his forehead, which had been pulsing with nonstop pain since he’d heard about Ellie. Running up and down the oval, tackling sweaty blokes and kicking out his tension could be just what he needed, but the rest of it... Having to make small talk, knowing that everywhere he looked people would be talking about him, pitying him. He needed that about as much as a rhino in his top paddock.

      “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

      “No,” he snapped, giving a quick nod to her outfit. “I was just thinking that I should get you an overcoat. You’ll freeze in that, not to mention give the boys a heart attack.”

      “You’re not my father, Flynn. Even if you act as if you’re about ninety-five.” She lifted her chin, daring him to disagree.

      “Thank the Lord,” he replied, beginning to soften. But Lucy’s words made him think. Did he really give off that impression? Was he turning into an old grump? Or was it just all the talk of Ellie that had put him off balance?

      “Besides,” she continued, oblivious to the churnings of his mind. “This is what all the girls are wearing. You don’t want me to be an outcast, do you?”

      Flynn had to hide a grin. She was such a drama queen, but her antics were distracting him from thoughts of his ex and lifting his mood. That had to be a good thing.

      “Luce, you could never be an outcast. You’re gorgeous, intelligent and, most important, you’re my sister. That’s pretty much got you covered.”

      “Hardy-ha,” she replied, but her full-blown smile told him she’d forgiven his grumpiness.

      “I’ll be right back,” he said, turning toward his bedroom to throw on his gear. He’d play the game, let off some tension and make a quick retreat before anyone could corner him. Footy would help clear his head.

      Five minutes later, Flynn turned the ute onto the main road into town. Lucy switched on the radio, grinning as Paul Kelly came blaring out. Paul was the one sound they both liked. The twelve years between them meant there weren’t many such bands.

      Trying to relax, Flynn tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to the music. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy shift in her seat to face him.

      “You and Ellie could’ve been like this song.”

      He cringed. As if the end of their relationship hadn’t been tragic enough. He’d never spoken about Ellie with Lucy, or about what happened after she’d left, and he didn’t plan on starting now. Lucy was now the age he and Ellie were when they started going out, but she wouldn’t understand. She had one hyped-up crush after another but never stayed with a boy long enough to fall in love.

      When he didn’t reply, she elaborated. “I reckon Ellie did you a favor running off. I mean, I don’t really remember her and she may have been really nice, but Ms. Dawes, our sex-ed teacher, says teen marriages are twenty times more likely to end in divorce than other marriages.”

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