Amethyst

By Tricia McGill

Love comes in many guises. Although Amy cares for Tony, and in the small country town where they live they are considered a couple, Amy still carries a torch for Tony’s older brother who spurned her adolescent avowals of love.

When Andrew returns home, now a wealthy, prosperous man, Amy’s whole world is in turmoil. Because of his rejection in the past, how can she trust this man who proposes to settle down in the small town he walked away from years ago? Amy has no doubt that he will soon long to be back in the bustling world he has become accustomed to in the city, and is determined to keep her head and not let her heart divulge its secrets this time around.

EDITORIAL REVIEWS
“Tricia McGill writes a tender love story that will melt your heart and have you wanting to smack some sense into Amy... good reading, especially when you turn inward to look at yourself and your insecurities. Linda B at The Romance Studio

“A delightful read of second chances. Andrew threw it all away when Amy was younger but she was giving him another chance. Andrew made sacrifices of his own to win the woman he loves. Andrew was the challenge and was irresistible to Amy, but will Amy see past the lies of a woman scorned? If you like to read about second chances then you’ll enjoy this story. It was also amusing to see Amy frustrated by Andrew as she had no idea what he was up to.” Pam at A Romance Review

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Sep 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773627083

Book preview

Amethyst

By Tricia McGill

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-1-77362-708-3

Kindle 978-1-77362-709-0

WEB 978-1-77362-710-6

Print ISBN 978-1-77362-711-3

Amazon Print ISBN 978-1-77362-712-0

Copyright 2017 by Tricia McGill

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

* * *

Dedication

This one is for all lovers of sport, whatever your choice. I’m not a very sporty person and to be honest seldom take an interest in what Aussies call footy. During my years in England my husband and I lived within shouting distance of the Arsenal soccer ground in North London, and all my brothers, my uncles, and my husband followed this team devotedly. When we came to Australia my husband shifted his alliance to an Aussie footy team (but never abandoned his love of Arsenal). Aussie Rules footy is unique and I will never understand the game, but every country town supports their team, and when times get tough it is the sport that holds the community together and lifts them up. The inspiration for this book came from watching one of these country matches years ago and I found the whole experience extraordinary even though I had no idea of the rules of the game.

Chapter One

Amy savoured the peace of this perfect morning. Summer was slipping gracefully into autumn, and it was good to be alive on such a day. Her bicycle rattled over the bumps on the rough path skirting Yewbank. Not a cloud marred the sky, and a gentle breeze barely stirred the river, or her hair. Amy looked with warm approval on the serene beauty of the countryside she loved. Most of the younger townsfolk left Yewbank as soon as they were able to take off to the big cities, and some probably thought her odd, but she’d never longed to explore far horizons.

Hey, Goldie, get out of that bush and stop terrorising the sparrows. At her mild command the bundle of feline fur she’d admonished hopped sideways, leapt in the air, and came to join a squat, ugly dog trailing the bicycle. The dog, which looked remarkably like a cross between a corgi and a wombat, wore an expression much like a grin. Both animals were rescued from death by Amy. Apart from being of indeterminate breeding, both were obviously sure they were as human as this person they followed slavishly.

When the dog meandered into some bushes as the trio made their way through the woods, Amy warned, Jess, you leave the magpies alone. You wouldn’t know what to do with one if you caught it. Head turned toward the wandering dog, Amy didn’t see the jogging man until he drew level with her bicycle. Oh. She halted, one foot on the ground as he stopped, bending slightly to rest his hands on his knees as he dragged in a few deep breaths.

Amy gripped the handlebars when her hands began to shake slightly. Goldie miaowed loudly and took a leap toward the man, whose breathing was slightly laboured.

Still surrounded by a menagerie of misfits, he drawled, bending to stroke the cat that now sidled around his well-muscled calves.

Trying to appear nonchalant in the presence of the only man who ever made her turn to jelly by merely being within touching distance, Amy flicked her hair out of her eyes. He picked Goldie up, and the stupid mutt now purred like a steam engine as he stroked her plump belly.

Good morning, Andrew. Carefully removing the cat from his arms, Amy gently placed it in the basket in front of her handlebars. Goldie nonchalantly began to clean her paws. I heard you were back in town. Amy looked him up and down. Trying to work off the effects of soft city living?

Still keeping eye contact with Amy, he bent to stroke Jess, now also smooching up to him. City living, for me at least, is anything but soft. In fact my lifestyle is so hectic I’m feeling jaded of late.

Amy eyed him. One thing he certainly didn’t look was jaded. Andrew always had been fit and always prided himself on his athletic ability.

I’ve been working long hours for quite some time, and it’s caught up with me. To be honest I’ve come home for a rest.

So that answered her silent query. She’d been dying to know just why he’d returned to their small hometown. How long will you be staying this time? She tried to sound disinterested. As though she really couldn’t care less if he stayed a day or forever.

He finger combed his windswept black hair. That depends.

Ah, depends on how long you can stand to stay here in this back block, you mean.

He glanced about. At this stage of my life this back block, as you so quaintly put it, is highly appealing to a worn-out old city bloke. With an absent gesture he massaged the juncture of his neck and his shoulder.

How’s the shoulder? she asked. Still bothering you? In his early football playing days he’d broken his collarbone and stubbornly continued playing with the bones grating against each other.

He shrugged. Not a lot. Since the docs’ inserted the pin I only get the occasional twinge.

Then, after a collision with a massive opponent left him in a crumpled heap on the field, he’d thrown in the towel as far as football was concerned. Unconscious, he’d been rushed to hospital with an injured knee. Soon after that, at the age of twenty-three, to the sorrow of his team mates, he decided never to return to football.

How’s your knee? With a glance at that part of him, she swallowed. He had just about the most perfect legs she’d ever seen on any man. Point was, everything about him was nigh on perfect.

He flexed his leg and shrugged again. Since the reconstruction it’s been no real problem.

Amy dragged her glance from him to her watch. If she didn’t get a move on she would be late for work, and that would never do. Much as she hated to leave Andrew she had to go, for her boss despised tardiness. I have to fly, she said. Jobs in the small town were hard to come by, and she enjoyed working in the bank. Mr. Mortimer, her boss, wasn’t so bad. A friend of her father’s, he’d encouraged Amy to attend evening classes to further her computer skills.

With a wave she hoped appeared careless, she pedalled off, the dog loping at her side, the cat still perched majestically in the basket. See you around, she flung over a shoulder.

You sure will, Andrew called after her.

* * *

Jess slipped through the gap in the fence as Amy leaned her bicycle on the wall outside the back door of the big old-fashioned house her parents had lived in since their marriage.

The two animals followed Amy into the kitchen. While the cat drank the milk poured for her with gusto, Jessie waited patiently for a biscuit, which she took off with through the cat door to eat in the garden.

Amy’s mother looked up at the clock midway through pouring a cup of tea for Ed, whose nose was buried in the morning newspaper, saying, You’d better get a move on.

Yes, I know. I ran into someone on our walk. Not stopping to explain who that someone was, Amy dashed into the bathroom.

As she showered, Amy reflected on the meeting with Andrew. It was humiliating to admit she still yearned for his attentions. That was something she should have grown out of long ago. Mental discipline was what she needed now. Why hadn’t she got over this infatuation when he left town to settle in Melbourne? The fact that they’d barely seen each other in the past couple of years should have helped in her quest, but sadly had not.

Andrew was twelve and Tony four when their parents were tragically killed in an accident and they came to live with their Aunt in Yewbank. Although their Aunt Mary had always been considered eccentric, nobody could fault the love she held for the two orphaned boys. Their father had been a great footballer, and the townsfolk still talked of the days when he led Yewbank to victory. It seemed only natural that the boys follow his tradition, and Amy kicked a football around with them from the moment her legs grew strong enough to manage it. She would have joined the team if girls were allowed, but had to be satisfied with being the team mascot instead.

The three of them were inseparable until Andrew reached fifteen. Then, inevitably, he’d sought friends his own age. Amy’s jealousy grew as she watched Andrew flirt his way through his teenage years.

Amy sighed as she towelled herself. She would marry Tony one day soon and forget about his arrogant, worthless brother who hurt her and rejected her.

Forget him! Who was she kidding? A difficult enough task when he was in the city and out of her orbit, but how would she cope with him back in town?

* * *

Amy waved to a couple of people as she walked the short distance to the bank. Although she’d taken and passed her driving test two years ago, she hadn’t felt the need to buy a car. She loved to walk, and when she went into nearby towns for the occasional shopping trip, Tony willingly drove her. When the football team played away from home there was always someone ready to give her a lift.

Yewbank sat splendidly on the Sydney road about two hours’ drive from Melbourne, and although now bypassed by the main highway, was still a thriving, busy town. The bank was situated in a restored historical landmark. Amy loved its brown, age-mellowed brick façade and the ornate and imposing entrance. Often she wondered if she was weird; certainly a lot of her contemporaries deserted the town and hastened to the cities.

After tidying her hair in the rest room she took her place behind the counter, greeting her fellow tellers and other staff members. Barely had she sat down when Tony strolled in. The Bowen boys were both strikingly handsome, dark and tall. But where their looks were similar their characters were miles apart. Tony was happy-go-lucky, everybody’s buddy, and carefree, while Andrew was inclined to be brooding and serious, enigmatic some might say.

Leaning casually on the counter in front of her window, Tony grinned. Morning, Amy, you beautiful ray of sunshine. He gave her a mischievous wink as he handed over his bank book. Amy knew exactly how much he earned, and how much he saved out of his earnings. His open honesty was one of the many endearing qualities he possessed. Why wasn’t there more of a spark between them? If only she could lust after him as she did his brother. But that charismatic spark just wasn’t there.

She’d be an idiot to turn down someone so trusting and trustworthy though, wouldn’t she? Knowing everything about your partner should be a perfect foundation for marriage shouldn’t it?

Hello, Tony. She sighed as she took care of his banking. It was only as she handed back his book that she realised he wasn’t looking her way. In fact his attention seemed to be riveted on Samantha Robinson, who was paying an inordinate amount of attention to her money drawer, even though she’d already tended that before Tony arrived.

Coming to watch practice tonight? Tony turned back to look at Amy.

How could I not? She gave him a grin. The town’s star player starts practice for the new season. Every female within a hundred kilometre radius will be there.

You reckon?

How could we resist watching you all cavort around in those shorts of yours? Amy chuckled.

Did you know Andrew’s back—for a short stay? Tony now waved to Samantha who had finally taken her nose out of her drawer and was looking their way, her cheeks unusually flushed. Amy’s suspicions were confirmed. Sam had a crush on Tony. She’d suspected it for some time. But how he felt about her was something Amy needed to think seriously about.

I bumped into your big brother on my bike ride this morning. He said he’s trying to get back in form.

Tony nodded thoughtfully. Yes, we’re trying to convince him to fill old Bert’s shoes. We need a decent player coach if we’re going to get anywhere near the top of the league ladder. Bert is far too complacent. The team’s a good bunch of guys but they take advantage of his kind heart. They need someone to motivate them—point them in the right direction. Andrew would be welcomed with open arms.

But that would mean Andrew committing himself for the entire winter. Something she didn’t for one moment believe he would do. Do you honestly think he’d leave his business interests for so long?

I reckon he would. Anyway, he’s thinking of selling his share to his partner, did you know that?

No. She stared at him finding the news hard to believe.

I know he’s getting sick of the long hours, responsibility, and hard grind. As a matter of fact he’s on the lookout for something smaller to sink his well-earned fortune into.

Fortune? Amy knew he was wealthy. It was to be expected of Andrew after all his hard work. But a fortune? Perhaps Tony was exaggerating. He’d always idolised his brother, who’d cared for him unflinchingly since their parents’ death. Tony refused to cast any blame on Andrew; even when he knew how much his brother hurt Amy by his rejection of her adolescent overtures. He simply would not blame Andrew, and had merely lent his shoulder for her to cry on. And lean on him she did. They’d then drifted into their adult relationship, and chivalrous as always, it was just taken as fact by everyone that the pair of them would marry.

Really?

He nodded.

Even so, I’ll bet anything you won’t get him to play football. After his injuries healed he swore he would never go out on the field again. Amy fiddled with her pen. I’ll lay money he won’t stay in these parts. The high and mighty Andrew Bowen considers us all small-minded and insular here. He’d never return to our small town.

Tony pulled a wry face. Come on, Amy. You know that’s not true. Andrew’s always been behind the team. He put a finger to his perfectly proportioned nose and leaned closer. "It has been suggested to me that a certain golden-haired beauty