Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek. Barbara Hannay

      He had absolutely no idea where the hell he was, or how he’d got there.

      Then he heard a small child’s cry and his stomach lurched. As a Commando, in close contact with the enemy, his greatest fear was that he might inadvertently bring harm to Afghan children.

      It was still difficult to see as he made his way through the pitch-black night, moving towards the child’s cry, bumping into a bookcase.

      A bookcase?

      A doorway.

      Ahead, down a passage, he saw a faint glow—it illuminated painted tongue-and-groove timber walls. Walls that were strangely familiar.

      Karinya.

      Hell, yeah. Of course.

      A soft oath broke from him. He’d woken from a particularly vivid dream and he was back in North Queensland and, while he couldn’t explain the crashing sound, the crying child was...

      Jacko.

      His son.

      Joe’s heart skidded as he scorched into Jacko’s room. In the glow of a night light, he saw the toddler huddled and frightened on the floor in the wreckage of his cot. Without hesitation, Joe dived and swept the boy into his arms.

      Jacko was shaking but, in Joe’s arms, he nestled against his bare chest, a warm ball sobbing, seeking protection and clearly trusting Joe to provide it.

      ‘Shh.’ Joe pressed his lips to the boy’s soft hair and caught the amazing smell of shampoo, probably baby shampoo. ‘You’re OK. I’ve got you.’

      I’m your father.

      The boy felt so little and warm in Joe’s arms. And so scared. A fierce wave of emotion came sweeping through Joe—a surge of painful yearning—an urge to protect this warm, precious miniature man, to keep him safe at all costs.

      ‘I’ve got you, little mate,’ he murmured. ‘You’re OK.’ And then he added in a soft, tentative whisper, ‘I’m your dad. I love you, Jacko.’ The words felt both alien and wonderful. And true.

      ‘What happened?’ Ellie’s voice demanded from the doorway. ‘I heard a crash.’

      Joe turned and saw her in the dimmed light, wearing a white nightdress with tiny straps, her dark hair tumbling in soft waves about her smooth, bare shoulders. She looked beautiful beyond words and Joe’s heart almost stopped.

      ‘What happened?’ she asked again, coming forward. ‘Is Jacko all right?’

      ‘I think he’s fine, but he got a bad fright. Looks like his cot’s collapsed.’

      Jacko had seen Ellie now and he lurched away from Joe, throwing out his arms and wailing, ‘Mummy!’

      Joe tried not to mind that his Great Three Seconds of Fatherhood were over in a blink, or that Jacko, now safely in Ellie’s arms, looked back at him as if he were a stranger.

      Ellie was staring at Joe too—staring with wide, almost popping eyes at his bare chest and at the scars on his shoulder. Joe hoped her gaze wouldn’t drop to his shorts or they’d both be embarrassed.

      Abruptly, he turned, forcing his attention to the collapsed cot. It was a simple timber construction with panels of railings threaded on a metal rod and screwed into place with wing nuts. Nothing had actually broken. It seemed the thing had simply come apart.

      ‘Looks like the wing nuts in the corners worked loose,’ he said.

      ‘Oh, Lord.’ Ellie stepped forward with the boy on her hip. ‘Jacko was playing with those wing nuts the other day. He was trying to undo them, but I didn’t think he had a hope.’

      ‘Well, I’d say he was successful. He must have strong little fingers.’

      Ellie looked at her son in disbelief and then she shook her head and gave a wry smile, her dark eyes suddenly sparkling. Joe so wished she wouldn’t smile like that, not when she was standing so close to him in an almost see-through nightdress.

      ‘You’re a little monkey, Jacko,’ she told the boy affectionately. Then, more businesslike, she turned to Joe. ‘I guess it shouldn’t be too hard to fix?’

      ‘Piece of cake.’ He picked up one of the panels. ‘A pair of pliers would be handy. The nuts need to be tight enough to stop him from doing it again.’

      Ellie nodded. ‘I think I have a spare pair of pliers in the laundry, but don’t worry about it now. I’ll take Jacko back to my room. He can sleep with me for the rest of the night.’

      Lucky Jacko.

      From the doorway, she turned and frowned back at Joe. ‘Do you need anything? A hot drink or something to help you get back to sleep?’

      She must have seen the expression on his face. She quickly dropped her gaze. ‘I keep forgetting. You’re a tough soldier. You can sleep on a pile of rocks.’

      With Jacko in her arms, she hurried away, the white nightdress whispering around her smooth, shapely calves.

      Joe knew he wouldn’t be sleeping.

      * * *

      Jacko settled quickly. He was like a little teddy bear as he snuggled close to Ellie and in no time he was asleep again. She adored her little miracle boy, and she relished this excuse to lie still and hold him, loving the way he nestled close.

      Lying in the darkness, she inhaled the scent of his clean hair and listened to the soft rhythm of his breathing.

      His perfection constantly amazed her.

      But, tonight, it wasn’t long before she was thinking about Joe and, in a matter of moments, she felt a pain in her chest like indigestion, and then her throat was tense and aching, choked.

      She kept seeing Joe’s signature on that piece of paper.

      And now he was about to head off for the Southern Ocean. Surely, if he wanted adventure, he could have caught wild bulls or rogue crocodiles, or found half a dozen other dangerous activities that were closer to home?

      Instead, once again, he was getting as far away from her as possible, risking his life in stormy seas and chasing international poachers, for pity’s sake.

      Unhelpfully, Ellie recalled how eye-wateringly amazing Joe had looked just now, standing bare-chested in Jacko’s room. With the little boy in his arms, he’d looked so incredibly strong and muscular and protective.

      Man, he was buffed.

      He’d always been fit and athletic, of course, which was one of the reasons the Army had snapped him up, but now, after all the extra training and discipline, her ex-husband looked sensational.

      Her ex.

      The word hit her like a slug to the heart. Which was crazy. I don’t want him back. Looks aren’t everything. They’re just a distraction.

      Tonight, it was all too easy to forget the pain she and Joe had been through, the constant bickering and soul-destroying negativity, the tears and the yelling. The sad truth was—the final year before their separation had been pretty close to hell on earth.

      Unhappily, Ellie knew that a large chunk of the tension had been her fault. During that bleak time when she’d been so overwhelmed by her inability to get pregnant again, she’d really turned on Joe until everything he’d done had annoyed her.

      Looking back, she felt so guilty. She’d been a shrew—constantly picking on Joe for the smallest things, even the way he left clothes lying around, or the way he left the lid off the toothpaste, the way he’d assumed she was happy to look after the house and the garden while he swanned off, riding his horse all over their property, enjoying all the adventurous, more important outdoor jobs, while she was left to cook and clean.

      Ellie hadn’t been proud of her nagging and fault-finding. As a child, she’d hated the way her mother picked on her dad all the time, and she’d