Caught In Between, page 1
CAUGHT IN BETWEEN
LOVE IN A SUNBURNT LAND
LEANNE LOVEGROVE
Copyright © 2023 by Leanne Lovegrove
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Emma Powell, interior formatting by Small Town Publishing
Created with Vellum
ABOUT CAUGHT IN BETWEEN
What do you do when the love of your life is marrying someone else?
Adele Bastian-Jones, wedding planner, has loved Luke since they were sixteen. After a whirlwind holiday romance, he announces he’s getting married and begs Adele to plan the special day, in just one month! Planning the wedding of your intended betrothed is not what she had in mind. But she’ll do it, and make it the best wedding ever, and in the process, get Luke to notice her instead.
Blake Kingsley, Luke’s brother, was a legend of his sport until injury forced his retirement and the demise of her marriage. With declining health and sworn off women, he’s living the quiet life on his estate in Bellethorpe, he tends to his vines and cares for his alpacas, and reluctantly agrees to host his brother’s wedding.
Sparks ignite, crazy alpaca are on the loose, the weather is unseasonable, but still the wedding must proceed. Can Adele carry off her plan or will her head be turned in a different direction?
Fans will be delighted to return to the small town of Bellethorpe where they’ll be reacquainted with old friends and meet new characters.
To the residents of small towns, thank you for the inspiration.
ANTHOLOGY - BUT NOT AS YOU KNOW IT
This novella is part of Love in a Sunburnt Land Vol 3 - but we’ve done it differently this year. Love in a Sunburnt Land Vol 1 was released in June 2021 and Vol 2 in June 2022.
They each comprised five novellas, by five Aussie authors - Rhonda Forrest, Louise Forster, Leanne Lovegrove, Susan Mackie and Emma Powell. Six months after the release of each one, we published the five stories as individual novellas.
The anthologies remain popular, but what we’ve learned in the last three years is that our readers love a series. So this year we’re doing it differently. We’re releasing the five novellas simultaneously, without first publishing them in an anthology volume. And each novella, while carrying the Love in a Sunburnt Land brand, is also part of a series for each author. While you’ll find some common themes within these stories, each one is set in a different region or small town with their own vibrant characters and communities.
Caught in Between is the second in the Bellethorpe Series. I hope you love this story and will take a moment to explore the stories and backlists of my Sunburnt Land co-authors.
Leanne Lovegrove
1
Adele Bastian-Jones swallowed hard and bit back tears as the bride and groom exchanged their vows. It didn’t matter how many weddings she planned in her job as a wedding co-ordinator, this moment got her every single time.
At this point, after delivering the bride to her soon-to-be-husband, she usually sighed with relief, then the emotion followed, quickly. Well, not always, some exchanges were perfunctory, others so over the top they were laughable, but the majority caught at the tenuous strings of her heart and made her weep.
This ceremony was one of those. The looks exchanged between the betrothed were dreamy and full of hope; each word spoken with love and affection. Adele searched for the tissues she always kept handy and dabbed gently at the corners of her eyes so as not to ruin her carefully applied make-up. More tears threatened as the groom lifted the lace heirloom veil over his wife’s head and kissed her for the first time. Adele’s lips parted, feeling the very essence of their connection and her heart swelled in her chest, caught up in the love affair playing out in front of her and the hundreds of guests.
The organ cued at the right moment and her pulse slowed. As rehearsed, the priest manoeuvred the couple to the signing table so they could formalise their marriage by executing the certificate.
Everything was proceeding as scheduled and on time. Perfect wedding planning.
Her mobile vibrated in her clutch purse and a bolt of frustration coursed through her. Everyone knew not to contact her while she was working. Being the wedding planner on the auspicious day that took many months, sometimes years in the making, meant she was on the clock the entire time until she collapsed into her bed that night, happy yet exhausted at the conclusion of another successful event and the start of another romantic journey. The phone kept buzzing and she pulled it out to check the culprit.
Luke.
Her body softened as her annoyance ebbed away like waves on a sandy beach heading back out to the depths of the ocean. Flicking her glance up, she caught the bride and groom smiling for the photographer in different poses: holding the pen to sign the certificate, heads bowed towards the desk where they sat, looking lovingly at each other. They’d be engaged for a few more minutes in attempts to capture this perfect moment.
Adele typed out a quick message to Luke that she was working and she’d ring him back ASAP.
As soon as the message whooshed away, her phone rang again. Bloody Luke; she hated breaking her own rules. He’d be the only person that dare interrupt her. But she couldn’t be angry at him, she’d take his call anytime, anywhere. Realising he was on the other end of the phone, her body thrummed.
Peeking at the couple again, she raced behind a pillar to answer. ‘Luke, hi! Can I ring you back?’ She could barely keep the pleasure from her voice.
‘What? You’re home already? You aren’t due to return from holidays until next week. Oh yeah, that sounded fabulous. I’d love to visit there…’ Despite her request, he kept talking.
The deep and melodic tones of the organ echoed around the historic church. She’d been right, again; this tune was perfect. From behind the column, Adele watched the bride and groom stand and prepare to walk down the aisle for the first time as husband and wife.
She tuned back into Luke. ‘I’m busy, yeah, right, news that can’t wait. Okay.’ Adele listened. ‘No! What? Are you serious? Getting married. Wow.’ Adele held her breath and feeling woozy reached out to prevent her fall. Her fingers slid around the smooth edge of the font while Luke babbled on. He had to be kidding, right?
Urgh! Adele ripped her hand off the fountain and scanned for the disgusting germs that must be crawling on the surface of her skin. Wiping her hand down her front, she then reached for the sanitiser in her purse. Holding the mobile between her shoulder and neck, she kept one eye peeled on the aisle of the church while she scrubbed her hands.
Her best friend, the one she’d loved since forever, was getting married. And not to her. ‘But you’ve only just met…’ she spluttered out the words. The bride and groom strolled past. Adele needed to get moving, get back on the job. Forcing one foot after the after, she turned towards the cloisters running along the outside edge of the church and leaned against the brick wall, the hard edges digging into her back.
Her mind processed fast. Luke had been away for a six-week backpacking trip around Asia. He’d met someone and now they were getting married. Getting married! She wanted to expel the words out of her mouth like an exorcism. Then she caught the end of the sentence as her best friend rattled on, excitement and joy in his voice.
‘Me? You want me to plan your wedding? In a month’s time?’ There was no way she was planning Luke’s wedding to a woman he’d recently met and fallen in love with. Especially when she wanted to be his bride. Her tummy didn’t do a little flip-flop, it catapulted around like a washing machine on spin cycle.
‘No, no, that’s not possible. You can’t plan a wedding in one month. There’s too much to organise. It can’t be done.’
Luke kept talking, providing reassurances. Adele interrupted. ‘But what reception venue will we ever find on such short notice? Oh, okay. Your brother’s Estate in a small country town. A unique Australian experience for your French bride.’ The egg and lettuce sandwiches she’d gobbled down only an hour beforehand, threatened to race back up her throat.
With dawning clarity, Adele knew she would be organising Luke’s wedding in some backwater called Bellethorpe, whether she wanted to or not.
2
One month later
Sunday: seven days before the wedding
Adele slowed her car as she approached the entrance to the Estate. She’d been driving for more than three hours; the local town of Bellethorpe a blur as she powered through to reach her destination.
The entrance was stylish with stone posts flanking a wrought iron two-wing gate in black steel decorated with intricate swirls. Over the top hung a superbly thick, heavy-looking length of timber announcing her arrival at Kingsley Estate Vineyard. Wow, impressive. This wasn’t a two-bit show as her mum would say.
She may have underestimated this place.
On either side of the long drive were expansive fields of vines. Peering through the windscreen, she crept her Mazda 3 forward and followed the road. Up ahead was a Queenslander homestead with wide sprawling verandahs protected by a bull-nosed roof. White wrought iron balustrading bordered the house in the similar swirl to the gate with gardens of brightly coloured blooming flowers along its base. In contrast was a bright red tin roof. All shades of green bounced up at her from the grass, to the trees and shrubs. Adele’s breath hitched. This pla
Reaching a circular drive, a white porcelain fountain sat in the turning circle with angelic faces spurting water. The water feature was surrounded by vibrant spring blooms at its base as part of a neat and trimmed garden. This place was too romantic!
To her left was a small car park where she found a spot and stalled the engine. Exiting the car, she performed a full body stretch, her limbs happy to be free. There were a few cars in the lot, but it was otherwise quiet. The tables and chairs along the decks were empty and no one wandered around the lawn. Odd for a Sunday afternoon. Perhaps everyone had already gone home after the weekend?
Adele twirled on the spot hearing a noise behind her. At the rear of the car park was a fenced paddock with lush grass from the heavy rain through winter. Now, in late September, the days were warm and the sun biting in the middle of the day. Not the premium time of year to get married in her opinion, but hey, everyone was different. At least it wasn’t December.
Slamming the car door, she wandered towards the fence, straining to hear the sound again. She stood letting the serenity envelope her. It was all solitude, peace and quiet out here in the country. Closing her eyes, she soaked it up for the briefest moment, until, again, there it was… a warbling hum. A song? Music from a band? A bird? In the otherwise tranquil environment, the disturbance was out of place. Maybe that’s where everyone was? Careful not to touch the timber barrier, she slipped through to investigate.
Peering around the corner of a nearby shed, the noise increased and her face lit up into a broad smile. Llamas! They were super cute with pointy ears and hair hanging into eyes in a small, triangular face. Luke didn’t mention anything about pet llamas. There was an entire pen of the woolly creatures with coats of white, caramel, brown and black standing almost as tall as her.
A nudge to her back and she spun to face a rather large one. Why wasn’t it penned behind her? Adele reared back. She wasn’t scared of it, per se, she simply didn’t want any part of it touching her. She took another step backward. It made that weird sound too; reminded her of the toy kazoo she had as a kid that she used to blow all the time to deliberately make her parents go insane. Now it sounded kind of cute. The beast kept making the sound without opening its mouth. Was it serenading her?
Didn’t matter, she kept backstepping. It followed so close she could hear its intake of breath and feel the warm release. She repelled. Skipping in from out of nowhere, came another one. It was cuter, snowy white with a brown patch on its rear. Their coats were fluffy and she was sure it would feel nice to reach out and rub her hands through it, but she wouldn’t. Imagine the dirt ensconced in that fleece? It would be revolting. Adele’s tummy turned over. Instinctively she shoved her hands in her jean’s pockets. The animals paused with heads down, munching on the grass.
This was her chance. Adele strode towards the fence. The llamas were pretty and all, but she wanted distance between her and them. Almost safe and the big one charged in front barring her path. Shifting to the right, he shuffled too, back and forth they engaged in a dance where she wasn’t quite sure of the moves. The smaller llama remained behind her a metre or so away, still eating happily. Her converse shoes sank into a moist patch of grass. Ick! She lifted her feet and jumped to the right. The animal matched her and bounced on its toes, its two pearly top white teeth on display. Each step she took, it followed. And that sound wasn’t so cute anymore. Keeping her cool, she quickened her pace, the fence within reach. How could one llama be such a nuisance? In a lightning-fast decision, she bolted. The llama blocked her route. Adele’s foot slipped and her body tumbled. Mud squished against her back and along her arms. Flinging her hands into the air, she flapped uselessly before holding her breath and connecting her palms with the cool earth. Slime slid through her fingers and she gagged. But then the animal pounced, its small feet resting on her legs, its face close, leaning in as if to lick her like a friendly dog, but instead it spat and warm liquid landed on her skin. Eyes closed, she screamed.
In the back field behind the homestead, Blake Kingsley inspected the leaves of his vines and cupped his precious Verdelho grapes. They were his special batch; his favourite wine and they were in top condition for harvesting later in the year. Examining them made him forget about the dull throb of his temples; his earlier headache still lingering.
He was imagining the taste of the next vintage, rolling the tannins around on his tongue, when a scream pierced the air. He shot upright, listened and scanned the nearby fields.
Nothing. Blake didn’t spot anything. Most of the lunchtime crowd had left. The cabin guests were either out visiting the sights or resting in their rooms…but something wasn’t quite right.
With one last glance at his beloved vines, Blake raced between the rows and dashed across the fields. Reaching the cellar door, he spied something in the fenced area. Removing his hat, he shaded his eyes for a better look. Biscuit hovered over a person lying on the ground. Blake ran faster.
As he reached the paddock, Biscuit rushed over, graceful on his feet. Blake ran his hands up and down the animal’s neck. Reassured, he wasn’t hurt, he gave it a friendly pat and calm words and shooed Biscuit away. Coconut stood nearby munching grass.
Blake strode closer. It was a woman who wasn’t moving. Shit, what if she was hurt and he was more worried about his pets? ‘Are you okay?’ He knelt beside her.
Her chest rose and deflated too fast, her breathing was loud and her eyes were wide. Blake whispered, ‘It’s okay. You’re okay,’ while he rubbed his hand along her arms and legs checking for injury.
‘Stop touching me!’ she screeched. ‘You were just petting that grisly creature and now your dirty hands are on me!’
Okay, perhaps not seriously harmed. ‘Sorry. Can you move?’ He placed both hands on his thighs. The woman grimaced as she leaned on her elbows and manoeuvred to a sitting position. Her brow furrowed with the effort and her eyes turned into slits. Balanced, but still sitting on her bottom, she batted her hands around so that the bangles on her arm jingled.
‘What is it?’ he panicked.
She spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I’m filthy!’
O-k-a-y. ‘It’s only mud.’
The woman groaned and examined her body. She wore sensible blue jeans, a coloured tee and white canvas shoes that were now brown. He offered to assist her up. She pulled a face but nonetheless slid her fingers into his.
Her hands were warm and soft, but slippery. Distracted by her touch, he pulled too hard and she collided with him, her full breasts brushing his chest. Quickly he embraced her to prevent her toppling backwards. Their mouths were only inches apart, her breath warm against his cheek while her eyes searched his.
This dishevelled, muddied woman was beautiful. But who was she and what was she doing in his field?
‘Hi,’ he said hoping his smile would break the tension. It worked and for a brief moment she smiled and her features lit up.
Until Biscuit returned and butted his nose between them. The woman jumped and swore but he grasped her tighter. Rejecting his grip, she pushed their bodies apart and his hand slipped from her back. He was now covered in mud, too.
‘Biscuit won’t hurt you.’
‘Biscuit! You named your llama Biscuit? Is that because he eats people for afternoon tea?’ Her tone was high pitched and Biscuit’s ears flicked.
Blake laughed but the animal was now more interested in him than her. Nonetheless he grasped the animal around the neck to lock him in place. ‘Rookie mistake. He isn’t a llama, he’s an alpaca. They look similar.’
The woman moved two steps away and held her hands in front of her in a combative stance. ‘I’m interested in the difference, really I am, but your alpaca spat at me and his saliva is all over my face and I would dearly love to wipe it off before I get rabies but my hands are caked in mud…so…’
