The High Price of Secrets(33)

                Tamsyn heard the subtext behind Finn’s words. Whoever this man was, he’d obviously been a big influence in Finn’s life.

                “You were young when your father passed away?”

                “Twelve. Mom got sick soon after.”

                “That must have been hard. I’m really sorry,” Tamsyn said with her heart behind every syllable.

                “It was a long time ago.” Finn sat staring out at the ranges for a while before leaning forward and lifting the antipasto platter toward her. “Here, try some.”

                “This is really lovely,” Tamsyn said, taking a piece of artichoke and lifting it to her lips. “You have an amazing setting here.”

                Finn nodded. “I love it. I could never imagine living anywhere else.”

                “I used to feel that way about The Masters…” Tamsyn let her voice trail away.

                Right now she wondered if she’d ever feel it was home again. She felt so disordered, as if her life was so jumbled that she might never feel settled again.

                “Used to?”

                “Things change,” Tamsyn said with a shrug, thinking of both the lie her father had perpetuated for most of her life—letting her and Ethan think their mother had died—and Trent’s duplicity. “People frequently turn out to be someone different to what you thought.”

                There was more to it than that. The lies had driven her away…but with the perspective that came from distance, she realized that she hadn’t been happy, even before she knew the truth. She’d always felt safe at The Masters—sheltered and protected. But she’d never felt truly, fully alive. Nothing about her job had her deeply invested; nothing in her personal life made her deeply happy. Perhaps she’d outgrown “safe and sheltered.” Maybe she needed something more.

                “Sounds deep. Want to talk about it?”

                Tamsyn sat silent for a moment or two. Did she want to talk about it? She wasn’t sure. She certainly didn’t want to spoil what had started out to be a lovely evening by delving into her doubts and questions.

                “Not really,” she decided out loud. “I’ll deal with it in my own way.”

                “If you ever need an ear or a shoulder—” he tapped himself on the chest “—you can apply here.”

                They turned their discussion to generalities about the area and Finn soon had Tamsyn in stitches over some of the stories about Gladys from the hall office from when he was a boy. Seems she’d been old even then. Mind you, Tamsyn mused, maybe some people were just born old.

                Finn suggested they return inside after he’d grilled the steaks. He turned perfectly baked potatoes onto their plates together with their steaks and took them to a casual dining table just inside the French doors. He put her salad onto the table, poured them each a glass of red wine and sat down.

                By the time they finished, it was growing dark. They lingered over their wine, Tamsyn mindful that she still had to negotiate the driveway and a small section of road before she reached home tonight.

                “You know,” she said, gesturing to the darkening vista spread before them, “where your house is reminds me a lot of Masters Rise. It was our family home before it was destroyed by bushfires nearly forty years ago. But it had an outlook like this, over the vineyards.”