Taking A Chance On The Single Dad. Sue MacKay

Not on my account. Nor can I see you doing it. Not easily, any rate.’

      He had her there. Damn him. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she ignored them. Her dad needed her, along with her stepmum and half-sisters. She couldn’t walk away from being there for them through this black time. All the love he’d spoiled her with since her mother had run away had got her through the bad times; she intended doing the same for him.

      But she loved Hunter. He was her mainstay. They were supposed to be getting married when she qualified. Hunter loved her. He’d said so often. Yes, he did love her. There’d never been anything false about his declarations. They could make this work. They had to.

      ‘Brenna, there’s no easy way to say this so I’ll be blunt. We are finished. We have to be. We can’t hang in limbo for the next however many years, until my family is back on track or things have changed for you. I am truly sorry, but there is no alternative.’

      When Hunter called her Brenna there was no arguing with him. She’d tried and failed too often to risk it now. Though what more did she have to lose? Seemed she’d just lost the love of her life.

      There was nothing else essential other than breathing. Dragging in air to make sure her lungs were still working, she closed her eyes and strove for something to make this all go away.

      Not happening.

      She could go crazy: cry and yell, plead and beg. Or she could dig deep for dignity, and not make Hunter glad he’d called it quits.

      ‘Bad timing, huh?’ she sniffed.

      * * *

      ‘The absolute worst, sweetheart.’

      The endearment curdled Hunter’s stomach. Brenna was the love of his life, the sunshine and the warmth, the reason he worked so hard to put aside money, so he’d be able to buy a home for her—for them—in the near future.

       You don’t have a future with Bren any more.

      The urge to hurl the phone across the yard had his arm lifting. He needed to hear it smash into a thousand pieces just as his heart was doing. But he held on so tight his fingernails were digging deep into his palms, the harsh edge of the instrument pressing into his ear.

      It was the most awful timing possible to have this happen to his parents, to Brenna, to him. Bren didn’t know about his father’s mental instability in times of crisis. Neither did she know how controlling and selfish his parents had been with him as he’d been growing up, and that that had been his reason for moving to Vancouver. He’d thought he’d escaped, that they’d finally accepted he had his own life to live. He’d been wrong, had been drawn in once more to straighten out their messed-up lives regardless of his aspirations.

      It was an insurmountable problem he couldn’t find a way around. He’d never forgive himself if he remained in Vancouver and his father carried out his threat to take his own life. And Brenna could not leave her father when he had dementia. Even with her stepmum and sisters there supporting him, Brenna was so close to her father she wouldn’t dream of moving away. Neither could he ask her to put her medical degree on hold with less than a year to go. He’d never forgive himself when she came to resent him for requesting that. It was bad enough his own paramedic training was going on the back burner.

      ‘Hunter? Stay in touch. Please.’

      That would hurt worse than anything. To see Bren, talk to her, and not be able to share the future they’d started planning together would be hell on wheels. ‘No. I can’t do that. It has to be a clean break. Over and done as of now. So sorry, Bren, I really am.’

       Do it. Now. Before you lose the courage.

      ‘Goodbye.’ His finger stabbed the off button, remained stuck to it, as though preventing him ever hearing from Bren again.

      No woman had made him so happy and carefree and yet so determined to succeed. No woman, no person, had believed in him as much as Bren had. Her only expectations had been that he be himself, believe in himself and follow his own dreams—something his parents had never allowed.

      He loved her beyond all reason, and yet he’d just put her aside for his family’s problems. Old habits did not disappear in a cloud of happiness after all. If only he could be that man Bren believed in. If only he could make his parents understand he’d been trying to help the day when he’d overheard his father bemoaning how he couldn’t shift the cattle himself because of his headaches.

      Hunter had taken the quad bike out to round up the cattle and shift them to a field on the side of the hill. It had gone well until a bull had charged the bike. Only eleven, he hadn’t been able to control the heavy machine and it had rolled, leaving him with a smashed leg and angry parents who’d said he’d made things worse for them by not being available to help around the orchard while his bones healed. From then on, they’d continued to make him pay for his misdemeanour with more and more demands.

      None of this made tonight’s decision about his relationship with Brenna easy. This time his father had threatened to swallow a bottle of paracetamol, and as he’d done it once before they couldn’t take any chances. Not that he was telling Bren about his father’s mental state. She might start watching him to see if he was unstable too. Not that she’d be seeing him again. He had to remain strong about that. He loved Bren with every fibre of his body.

      His only hope was that by doing the right thing for his parents it would keep him focused in the months ahead when the going got tough. Because it was going to. Not a doubt in the universe. His own plans and needs and love would be shelved. Didn’t mean he had the right to ask Brenna to put hers alongside his.

      The phone lit up. Bren’s number came up on the screen. Then the ringing began. He pressed Off. She tried again. And again.

      Then Hunter did hurl the phone with all the frustrated strength he had. It soared over the back yard, across the fence to land with a splash in the trough.

      ‘Goodbye, Bren. Love you.’

      The back of his hand slashed at his face as he hunched over, letting the rain soak his clothes, chill his skin further. Not caring what happened to him. But he had to. He was needed here. There was no choice.

       CHAPTER ONE

      Six years later...

      HUNTER FORD LEANED his shoulder against the doorframe and watched his son’s tiny chest lift and fall under the light bedcover as he slept, and sighed with relief. ‘You’re happier already, aren’t you, my boy?’ he whispered through a thick throat.

      Dylan’s grandparents had already started grooming him to be compliant by having him running around after them for the hell of it—something he hadn’t been able to prevent on the days he worked and Dylan didn’t have preschool.

      ‘You could learn something from him,’ Jess murmured beside him. ‘Stop worrying so much.’

      ‘You haven’t met Brenna.’

      ‘Surely she’s not going to kick your butt—verbally or physically?’ Dave’s wife never felt the need to hold back.

      ‘I’d handle that.’ Might even welcome it. But getting the cold shoulder from Bren would punch him hard. Neither did he relish the idea of being treated like a special friend who needed taking in hand to learn the ropes at the helicopter rescue base. Brenna Williamson. He knew nothing about what she’d been doing since that heartbreaking phone call. Had deliberately shut down on anyone telling him about her. He’d had to or go insane with grief.

      Jess swiped his arm. ‘It’s been a long time. You’ve moved on, so will she have. Anyway, you can cope with anything. Look at Dylan. After everything he’s been through, he’s happy because of you.’

      Hunter’s gaze was still fixed on that small body in the large bed, despite the picture of Bren in the