when a wrong turn brought her out into a small but bustling township.
She wondered briefly, as she pulled up to halt on a street peppered with cafés and boutiques and art stores, why Penny hadn’t directed her here first for her shopping. With a shrug she got out of the car and locked it before strolling the length of the main street down one side and back up the other before going into one of the clothing boutiques to browse.
“Hello, are you looking for a special outfit?” the older woman behind the counter asked with a welcoming smile.
“Not particularly, but I love this,” Tamsyn said, pulling out a sleeveless dress in vibrant hues of purple and blue for a better look.
“That would look lovely on you with your coloring. The fitting room is just to your left if you’d like to try it on.”
“Oh, I don’t think...” About to refuse, Tamsyn hesitated. Why shouldn’t she indulge herself? This morning’s shopping had been mostly about function—jeans, T-shirts, a pair of shorts and a few sets of underwear, together with some trainers. Her hand stroked the fabric, relishing the texture of the hand-painted silk. It would feel divine on. “Okay, I’ll try it,” she said before she could change her mind.
A few minutes later she turned this way and that in front of the dressing-room mirror. The dress was perfect, as if it had been made for her. If only she had the right shoes to go with it, she’d be able to wear it to lunch with Finn. Not that she was setting out to try and attract him or anything but a girl needed her armor, didn’t she? And the way this dress made her look and made her feel was armor indeed.
“How does it feel on?” a disembodied voice asked from outside the curtain.
“Fantastic but I don’t have the right shoes with me.”
“Oh, maybe we have something here. We carry a few styles and sizes. You’re what, a size seven?”
When Tamsyn murmured her assent the woman replied, “I’ll be right back.”
Tamsyn took a minute to study her reflection again. She loved the dress, loved the softness of the silk as it fell around her legs, as it caressed her body. It made her feel feminine, desirable.
Was that what her need for armor was all about? Had Trent’s betrayal left her feeling so unappealing? Questioning her femininity so much? Not surprising, given how he’d deliberately misled her throughout their relationship. The sting still smarted. And looking at her reflection now, thoughts of her former fiancé made her angry, too. Her reflection in the mirror looked beautiful and sexy—why had she let Trent make her feel any different? Why had she agreed to marry a man who never made her feel irresistible?
Tamsyn was more certain than ever that this trip was exactly what she needed. She had to get away from the perceptions and expectations everyone had of her back home and figure out who she really wanted to be. She just hoped her mother would want to be part of that—part of her life.
“Here we are!”
Tamsyn pulled aside the curtain.
“Oh, my,” the assistant said, “that dress is really you. You look wonderful. Here, try these on with it.”
She held out a pair of sandals in shades of purple, blue and pink, and with a ridiculously high heel. They were perfect, Tamsyn thought as she slid off the trainers and socks she’d been wearing and slipped her feet into the sandals, bending down to fasten the dainty ankle strap.
“Come on out into the store, we have a full-length mirror just over by the counter. You’ll have more room to twirl,” the woman said with a wink.
Tamsyn couldn’t help but smile in response. She actually felt like twirling when she saw her reflection in the larger mirror.
“I’ll take it,” she said impulsively. “The dress and the shoes. Do you mind if I wear them now?”
“Why would I mind?” The assistant smiled in response. “You’re the perfect walking advertisement for one of our local designers—Alexis Fabrini.”
“I love what she’s done with this dress, do you have more of her clothes here? I’d really like to come back when I have more time.”
The assistant just smiled and spread her arm to encompass an entire wall of garments. “Take your pick,” she said, smiling. “Let me bag up your other things and take off those price tags and you’ll be good to go.”
Tamsyn paid for her purchases just as a Shania Twain song came onto the speakers in the store. She smiled to herself, agreeing with the lyrics. She really felt like a woman right now and was actually looking forward to lunch with the enigmatic Finn Gallagher more than she realized.
“Are you just passing through town?” asked the store clerk. Tamsyn looked at her, suddenly struck by the realization that the woman was probably around the same age as her mother. In fact, there were so many people around—on the street, in the shops—who were all around that age. Surely, amongst them, would be some of her mother’s friends.
“I’m here a few days at least, although I might stay longer if I can. I’m...” She hesitated a moment and then decided, in for a penny, in for a pound. If she didn’t start asking every person she met if they knew her mom, she’d never find out, would she? “I’m looking for my mother. Ellen Masters. Do you know her?”
The other woman shook her head slowly and pursed her lips. “Hmm, Ellen Masters...no. Can’t say I’ve met anyone by that name around here, but I’m fairly new in the region and I’m still getting to know all the locals.”
“Never mind,” Tamsyn said pasting a smile over the pang of disappointment that tugged at her heart. It was a numbers game. Eventually she’d find someone who knew her. Didn’t New Zealanders pride themselves on the fact that there were only two degrees of separation between them and a fellow Kiwi? “It was a wild shot.”
“Well, good luck finding her and do come back soon!”
Tamsyn gathered her things and started to walk back to her car. Even with this small latest setback she still felt more positive. Just before she reached her car she stopped and perused the window of a real estate office that appeared to double as a letting agency and an idea occurred to her. If she found a place to rent she could set herself up more permanently here and could use the property as a base from which to widen her search. She scanned the listings in the window and an address caught her eye. It was on the same road as Finn Gallagher’s property, fairly close, too, if the street number was any indicator.
A coil of something she couldn’t quite identify curled tight in her stomach as she read the details. It was a short-term lease on a week-by-week basis. She could see why it was still available. Not many people would want the insecurity of week-by-week rental, but it suited her just perfectly and as a bonus it was fully furnished. All she’d need to do was feed the cat and the chickens on the property. She could do that. She pushed open the door to the agency, coming out twenty minutes later with an agreement in one hand, a key in the other and an excitement roiling in her she barely knew how to contain.
A late-model Porsche Cayenne, a Turbo S model, she noted with some appreciation, stood in the driveway when she returned to the hotel. No doubt Finn’s, she thought as she took a quick look at the dashboard clock on her rental. The side trip to the property agency had made her late, but right now she didn’t care. From tomorrow she had somewhere of her own to stay. Things
