The Wild One Read online

  The Wild One

  Since her husband's untimely death, Rachel Western has had little time to think about anything except the needs of her two young children and her growing landscaping business. But sometimes she thought of Quinn…

  The roguish Quinn Farrelly, from the wrong side of the tracks, revelled in the role of her family's black sheep. Until that day 12 years ago when her part in a tragedy sends Quinn to prison.

  Now Quinn has returned to her home town in need of a job, and Rachel's family and friends are more than concerned when Rachel hires Quinn to work for her. Rachel had expected their reaction, but she never expected the dizzying upheaval in her own heart - or how Quinn's return would change her life forever.

  Chapter One

  "I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!" Rachel Weston dropped her bag on the sofa and slid into the empty chair at the card table. "Sorry."

  "Give her a fob watch and a pair of floppy ears and she'd be doing a credible White Rabbit." Rachel's cousin Colleen exclaimed.

  Rachel joined in the laughter. "I really am sorry. I know I'm holding up the game."

  "No worries, love," said her younger cousin, Sandy, as she shuffled the cards.

  "So what upset your usually impeccable schedule?" asked Colleen.

  "Impeccable schedule? What's that? You know I just keep on running and hope I don't blow a sneaker."

  "Take no notice of Colleen, love. My sister just can't help being sarcastic. She was born that way. Fortunately it doesn't run in the family." Sandy continued shuffling the cards. "Anyway, what ran you late this time?"

  Rachel rolled her eyes. "I had to drop into work on my way here."

  "Work on your day off again?" exclaimed Rhonda, the fourth member of their fortnightly bridge club meeting. "Not pretty."

  "Well, we're so behind." Rachel frowned. "If I don't get some staff soon we'll be in real trouble. I hate letting our customers down."

  Colleen raised her eyebrows. "I thought you said you had a guy starting last week."

  "I did. And although I had reservations about him, I thought he might be okay." Rachel grimaced. "I should have trusted my instincts. He only lasted two days."

  They all looked taken aback, and Rachel shrugged. "Seems he didn't realize he'd have to get his hands dirty."

  "Right," Colleen said in disbelief. "Working in a gardening and landscaping business? The guy must have been thick as two bricks."

  "He said he thought he'd just be standing behind the counter and taking the money," Rachel explained wearily.

  "How old was he?" Sandy asked.

  "Thirty-something. Old enough to know better if he'd been at all serious about keeping the job." Rachel ran her hand through her short fair hair, momentarily surprised at its lack of length. She'd only had it cut two weeks ago and was still getting used to the new style after having had long hair since her teens. With the frantic pace of her life just recently, she'd decided a shorter style would be less trouble.

  "Anyway," she continued, "he walked out when Phil asked him to help repot some seedlings. So I'm back to square one. I don't know what I'd do without Phil and Ken and Old Dave."

  "Can't you put on more part-timers?" suggested Rhonda. "I mean, you said Colleen's son and his friend were working in well."

  "They are," Rachel conceded. "But they're both still at school and can only work on the weekends. That fits in really well Saturdays and Sundays, but no one seems to want to work part time during the week. What I really need is a couple of able-bodied men, one to work in the garden and supplies center with Phil and Old Dave, and one to help Ken with the landscaping. If I don't get someone soon we'll have to stop taking on new work. As it is we're over a month behind with the jobs we've got."

  "You'd wonder it would be so difficult to get staff, what with the news always shouting about the rising number of unemployed," said Sandy. "But I guess not everyone wants to work outdoors with plants and stuff."

  "And I suppose not everyone has a flair for it either," added Rhonda.

  "Well, I for one would trade outdoors for trapped-in-a-room-with-thirty-twelve-year-olds any day, let me tell you," said Colleen with feeling. "Don't know how I did it full time for so many years. It wasn't until I reduced my hours that I realized how stressful it was."

  "Does that mean I can put you on the payroll at R & R Gardening and Landscaping?" Rachel asked with a grin.

  "Oh sure. And get my lily-white little hands all grimy and grubby." She winked at Rachel. "Now, Sandy's just about shuffled the numbers off the cards, so let's play this game."

  The four friends settled into their game until they broke for lunch a couple of hours later.

  "Quiche is ready," Rhonda called from the kitchen. "Go on out onto the deck. I've set the table for lunch out there."

  Rachel, Colleen, and Sandy stood up and filed through the dining room and out onto the veranda. Rhonda followed them, carrying the quiche. She set it on a warming board and proceeded to distribute healthy slices.

  Each bridge day they rotated venues between their four houses, the hostess providing lunch.

  "I'm so glad we take turns at being mother," Sandy said. "Otherwise I'd feel very guilty sitting back and letting you baby us like this, Rhonda."

  "Oh yes?" Colleen sat down at the table on the deck. "You love every minute of it, just like we all do."

  "Warming up a quiche hardly constitutes babying." Rhonda laughed easily. "Help yourselves to the salads."

  "It's such a great day, warm but not too hot." Sandy added some crisp green salad to her plate. "Just the sort of day to eat out here on the deck. And the garden looks wonderful, Rhonda."

  Rhonda grinned at Rachel. "Another one of Ken's successes. I'm glad I thought about getting him to clean the place up. Don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. He's a genius."

  Rachel smiled. "He is pretty good at his job. I'm just terrified he'll want to leave and set up a business on his own."

  "Maybe you should marry him and keep him in the family," Colleen suggested dryly. Rachel spluttered into her teacup.

  "Marry him? Good grief, Col, I'm old enough to be his mother."

  "Rubbish! He must be pushing thirty and you're only, what? Thirty-something?"

  "Thirty-three. Eleven months younger than you are," Rachel added with relish.

  "That's the trouble with small towns, isn't it?" laughed Sandy. "Everyone knows everything about you."

  "That's true. There aren't many secrets here." Rhonda passed Colleen sugar for her coffee. "But, Sandy, I thought you were all fired up matchmaking Rachel with your brother-in-law, Phil. I seem to recall you saying Rachel and Phil were made for each other."

  "Sandy's been trying to manage that ever since Phil came back to town." Colleen pulled a face at her cousin. "To no avail. Rachel will resist."

  "Phil works for me and does a great job. I just don't think it's sensible to mix business with pleasure."

  "Well, that's a step in the right direction, isn't it, Sandy?" Colleen appealed to her sister. "At least she now admits it's pleasure."

  Rhonda patted Rachel's knee. "Leave poor Rachel alone. It is only four years since Rob died, and she needs to work through that. Rachel will know when she's ready to commit herself to another relationship."

  Rachel took another mouthful of Rhonda's delicious quiche and wondered if it was quite that simple. When Rob, her husband of seven years, was killed in a motor accident, it seemed to Rachel that her whole existence had taken on a numbness, a sort of unreality.

  Not that she'd had time to dwell on it. With two young children and a fledgling business to run, life had spun on with unrelenting ruthlessness. It had been a case of putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on.

  Rachel grimaced inwardly. Thinking that way made her feel l
ike a modern day martyr. But that wasn't the case. She'd simply not had time to think too much, and now she seemed incapable of thinking too far ahead.

  What worried her the most was that recently she'd begun to feel as though her marriage was just a figment of her imagination. She was often hard-pressed to remember Rob, how she felt about him, about their marriage.

  Oh, she knew they hadn't had a bad marriage. It hadn't set her pulses racing the way pulses raced in romantic novels, but she knew Rob had basically been a good man. And she had loved him. She knew she had. Otherwise she wouldn't have married him. Would she?

  "Oh, I almost forgot." Sandy's voice drew Rachel out of her disquieting reflections. "Guess who Steve saw in town the other day?"

  "Your husband never sees anyone in town, Sandy," said Colleen. "Just last week he walked straight past me and didn't even blink an eyelid. Talk about an absent-minded accountant."

  "I know." Sandy sighed in agreement. "Sometimes he's the bane of my life. He spends all week in town at his office, and he never, but never, hears any juicy gossip. Well, maybe he hears it, but he sure doesn't pass it on to me. If it wasn't for our bridge game I'd be entirely gossipless."

  "Now that doesn't bear thinking about, does it?" Rachel put in wryly.

  "Don't you talk, Rachel," stated Colleen. "You're almost as closemouthed as Steve. Now stop distracting Sandy." She turned to her sister. "So who did Steve see in town the other day that made such an impression on him he broke his silence to tell you all? I mean, I can't even contemplate the scenario where Steve stands chatting in the street and then hurries home to tell you about it, Sandy."

  "Well, there were extenuating circumstances. Steve did go to school with him."

  "That narrows it down." Rhonda laughed. "So, who do we know who's male, stayed in town after high school, and is Steve's age?"

  "We'd be flat-out naming two or three," said Colleen. "So tell us more."

  "Well, actually, he's older than Steve."

  "Sandy! Keep to the point!" instructed her sister shortly in her schoolteacher tone.

  "Johnno Farrelly," Sandy said without preamble.

  "And?" Colleen prompted. "I often see Johnno around. The Farrelly brothers have done really well for themselves since they took over their father's business. They've made a real go of it. Now there's a success story."

  "Johnno runs the office, but Liam still drives the trucks though, doesn't he?" asked Rhonda.

  Sandy nodded. "Strange, isn't it? Both Johnno and Liam Farrelly are married and have made good lives for themselves. With their family life you wouldn't be surprised if they'd turned out bad through and through."

  "Bad genes do seem to run in families." Colleen put in.

  "Well Becky, the older sister, she's still working at the hospital," added Rhonda. "I often see her. She's a good worker, married with three kids. She's a really nice woman."

  "I suppose three out of four good ones in that original screwed-up family isn't bad," said Colleen caustically.

  Rachel took another sip of her tea, suddenly just a little ill at ease. Yet she couldn't say why. She felt dissociated, as though the conversation was going on around her and she wasn't exactly a part of it.

  Of course Rachel knew the story of the Farrellys. Everyone did. The family had been the brunt of local gossip for as long as Rachel could remember. Rachel knew it was common knowledge that Old Will Farrelly, Johnno's grandfather, had been a drinker and quick with his fists. Often his exploits had been rationalized because he was supposed to have had a bad time during the war, some sort of war neurosis, Rachel had once heard her mother telling someone. But Rachel wondered why that had been an acceptable excuse for beating his wife and children.

  Old Will's daughters had all left town as soon as they were old enough, but young Will, the only son, stayed and drove trucks for his father. He drank like his father, fought like he did. And when Will Jr. had started courting a very young Laura Driscoll, no one could believe she would actually go out with him. He was six years older than she was and had a wild reputation.

  But they had married, and young Will had continued to provide plenty of food for local gossip until his death years ago.

  "You mean she's back?"

  There was a moment of shocked silence, and Rachel blinked. She'd obviously missed something while she was woolgathering.

  "Who?" she asked evenly, valiantly trying to ignore an inexplicable, growing hollowness as a disturbing seed of premonition began to take form somewhere inside her. "Who's back?"

  Colleen raised her eyebrows. "Who's back? Pay attention, Rachel. Quinn Farrelly. That's who."

  "She" — Rachel swallowed — "she is?"

  "That's what Johnno told Steve," Sandy explained.

  "Wow!" Rhonda exclaimed. "Has she just been released from prison, do you suppose?"

  Sandy frowned. "I shouldn't think so. It all happened, what, ten, twelve years ago? She only got three years, didn't she?"

  "Yes. I think it was three years," Rachel said carefully. "So she should have been released years ago."

  "You'd think if she was going to come back here she would have done so when her mother died a couple of years ago." Rhonda started clearing away their lunch dishes.

  "Broke her mother's heart, that one," said Colleen softly.

  "She was young," Rachel put in before she could stop herself. Her cousin turned to look at her.

  "You always did stand up for her, Rach, and I could never understand why."

  Rachel shrugged. "I just think she had a raw deal. It can't have been easy growing up in that household, with a father like Will Farrelly."

  Sandy nodded. "I'd have hated it, having everyone know what a drunken no-good my father was, that he beat my mother. Heaven only knows what those kids went through. No wonder Quinn had problems."

  "Problems?" Colleen shook her head. "She was a tearaway from the moment she started to walk. I taught her one year and, let me tell you, that was no picnic."

  "I just think she was smart enough to do anything with her life," Rachel said. "It was such a pity it all turned out the way it did. Such a waste."

  "Oh, Quinn was smart enough. Maybe too smart." Colleen stood up and began to help Rhonda clear the table. "As I see it, she just inherited those bad family genes. Quinn Farrelly was just like her father and grandfather before her. She was a wild one."

  Chapter Two

  Rachel had planned to go into the office for an hour or so after her bridge game but she decided to head on home. For some reason she felt absolutely exhausted.

  She pushed the button on her mobile for Phil's home number and waited for him to pick up.

  "Phil here." Phillip Stevens's deep voice echoed metallically inside the car.

  "Oh. Hi, Phil. It's Rachel. I just wanted to ask you if Kirby rang to say the seedlings arrived okay."

  "Yeah. Rang just after lunch. Another satisfied customer."

  "That's a relief. I'm glad he's happy with them."

  "Why wouldn't he be happy?" Phil asked. "They got quality merchandise and a good deal."

  "So did we, my friend." Rachel sighed. "Well, I'll see you in the morning."

  "Rachel? Hang on a minute."

  "Something else?"

  "Yeah. Someone called in about a job."

  Rachel pulled up at a stop sign. "They did? Who?" The phone crackled with static.

  "... came in just after you left. . . was with a customer so I didn't. . . Old Dave made it nine-thirty in the morning. That okay with you?"

  "You're breaking up. Was that nine-thirty for an interview?"

  "Yeah. CV's in the top drawer of your desk. Okay?"

  "That's fine, Phil. I'll look at it when I get to work. Thanks again."

  "No worries. Bye."

  Rachel switched off the mobile. She wasn't going to let herself get excited about the job applicant. After the last fiasco she was beginning to doubt her judgment of people.

  These were the times she missed Rob. He was so laid back about th
at sort of thing. Rob would have taken it all in his stride. She missed that.

  She felt a twinge of guilt. Was that the only time she missed her late husband? When she felt she needed support doing something she didn't care to do, like taking the kids to the dentist and interviewing new staff?

  Well, not exactly, she told herself. In truth she knew they'd occasionally had disagreements because Rachel thought Rob was too unconcerned about everything. Rob never seemed to worry about their overdraft, when they had one in the early days, or the mortgage payments or new shoes for the kids.

  Rachel knew she'd worried enough for both of them — and felt ill-used about it. It had taken her a long time to reign in her tendency to be overanxious. She supposed the money she'd inherited when her father died had helped in that respect.

  It hadn't been a fortune, but it had paid off their house mortgage and most of their bills. And apart from the loan for their business, the money had put them in the black for the first time since their marriage.

  They'd also renovated the house slightly so that Rob's widowed mother could have her own self-contained flat attached to their house. Rob's mother had helped look after the children when Rachel was at work at the garden center. It had worked so well.

  By the time Rob's mother remarried a year before Rob's death, the children had been old enough to spend the few hours after school with a qualified childcare giver.

  Rachel turned the station wagon into her driveway and paused to look at the house. She'd fallen in love with it when she and Rob first saw it just before they were married.

  It was a two-story brick home on a large block in a new estate. Of course, after ten years the estate had become a complete little settlement of middle to upmarket homes. The gardens Rachel had lovingly planned and planted were well established. Just before Rob's death they'd added a swimming pool in the back.

  The house was too big for them really, Rachel reflected as she waited for the double garage door to glide open. But she still loved the place, felt a pleasant relief of tension as she arrived home.

  She parked the car, and the door slid down behind her. The other car bay was empty, even more so at the moment with the children's bicycles gone. Fliss and Adam were spending some time on the farm with their grandmother and step-grandfather. The children loved visiting the farm and spent as much of their school vacations there as Rachel would allow.