by Mandy Magro
Joel’s hand brushed over her shoulder and down her arm. ‘I’ve got your back, Jules. Never think you’re alone in all of this.’
Balancing on the brink of breaking down, all she could do was nod.
‘I’ll let you get home.’ He took a step back, studied her for a few more moments, and then turned away.
She exhaled a held breath as she watched him stroll back to his four-wheel drive. Even from the back, he was spectacular, all muscle and strength, carrying himself with such confidence it was unavoidable to be drawn further into him. Step by step, she walked away from him and ambled towards her ute. Unlocking it, she slid in behind the wheel.
Joel pulled to a stop beside her and she wound down her window, remaining silent. ‘Promise me you won’t just go home and put a hex on me.’ There was a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips, but such sadness in his eyes.
‘I’m not promising you anything of the sort.’ As angry as she was with him, the instinctive awareness that bound them together pulled her in even tighter. ‘But I do promise I’ll touch base with you tomorrow, once I’ve had time to calm down and get my head around what you’ve gone and done.’
‘Okay, Jules.’ He considered her for a few more moments and then tipped his hat. ‘Chat tomorrow, then.’
‘Yup,’ she replied.
She watched him drive away, and the reality of the situation completely overwhelmed her. He wouldn’t understand her deep fear of her stepfather, nobody would. Malcolm Kern was such a saint in everyone’s eyes. Gathering every last bit of resolve she could muster, she revved the ute to life and headed towards home, her mind in a spin and her heart breaking all the more.
* * *
Plump ruby-red lychees and fleshy golden mangoes were in abundance on the surrounding farmlands, the branches of the seemingly endless lines of trees heaving beneath the weight of the tropical fruit. The sweet scent, tantalisingly familiar at this time of the year, drifted upon the gentle afternoon breeze, reminding Juliette of all the times she’d sat with a bowl of her favourites plucked from one of Joel’s family’s trees, the sticky juice dripping down both their arms as they devoured way too many for their stomach’s liking. Long gone were those days. Adulting really sucked.
Shovel in hand, she picked up the last of Warrior’s manure and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. Pausing, she caught her breath, and then leant the shovel up against the railings. Wheeling it out of the paddock and over to the ever-growing pile kept for garden mulch, she tipped it, cursing when half of it ended up on her boots; she wasn’t in the right frame of mind for this crap – no pun intended, she thought with a chuckle. Job done, she stretched out her aching back and sighed. Although arduous, her day of hard work had helped her somewhat. Just for a little while, she’d stopped obsessing over all her problems, even if she hadn’t made any of them disappear. She could run and hide, but not for long. Her troubles had to be dealt with, one way or another.
It had been almost twenty-four hours since Joel had told her what he’d done and, as much as part of her wanted to go to the police, for her sake and for his, she was afraid of the price her mother would pay, and that if she stirred the murky waters of her past, the sludge she’d pushed to the bottom was going to rise, real fast. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel had betrayed her by going to Levi and recording the conversation, as clever as it was. Would he go and use it anyway, despite her reluctance to go to the police? Part of her believed he would. And the more she thought about it, the more she envisioned the drama it was going to cause, and the more it made her even more frustrated and angry and hurt. But, although she felt all of this, she hadn’t forgotten she’d promised she’d touch base with him today. A woman of her word, she wasn’t about to break that agreement. She just needed a little bit of time to build up the nerve to say what she was going to – he needed to drop the subject if they were to remain friends.
Stepping from the stables with her stomach growling for sustenance, she looked to the dusky sky. Relief from the heat of the day was arriving with the last smoky embers of twilight, the southerly breeze not only tinged with the sweetness of tropical fruit, but also with nightfall’s freshness. Not in a rush to arrive back at the house, where Lachlan was working in his office, she drew up for a moment, resting against the paddock fence. It had been a long day, spent considering her extremely limited options, but at least she’d taken the first step and made her choice to leave here. After years spent walking in shoes that weren’t really her own – her false facade built up to survive each day – she could feel the cracks widening, deepening, waiting to engulf her. If she disappeared down the hole, she wasn’t sure she’d ever resurface. There had to be a place for her, Brute and Warrior to call home around Little Heart, surely?
Arriving back at the homestead and spotting Lachlan’s vehicle gone, she found the house quiet, hauntingly so. Wandering down the darkened hallway, she dropped her saddlebags to the kitchen floor and spotted a yellow envelope on the dining table. Her name was written across the front of it in bold black letters. Her heart stalled, then raced. What in the hell was Lachlan up to now? Dragging out a chair, she slumped down into it and pulled off her boots and socks, glaring at his handwriting. It only seemed like yesterday that a nineteen-year-old Lachlan Davis had turned up at the front door of her parents’ place looking dapper, flowers in hand, ready to take her to her end of high-school dance. His eagerness to be her chaperone when she’d mentioned she had nobody to take her after Joel had skipped town had helped melt her frozen, broken heart. As had his constant romantic gestures soon after, and his support through her years at university. At the time, she’d found his advances irresistible, his encouragement for her vocation endearing, but now she saw them for exactly what they were – a ploy to grab her at her weakest.
Tucking her hands behind her head and stretching her legs out, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. Stubbornly, not wanting Lachlan to get beneath her skin, she tried to bide her time, tried her best not to tear the envelope open with greedy inquisitiveness, but with curiosity getting the better of her, she snatched it up and did just that. It was a pre-nuptial agreement with her signature on the bottom of it. She gasped, eyes wide as she read it. The room spun. She felt as if she were about to be sick. She didn’t recall ever seeing it before, let alone signing it. She did, however, remember Lachlan getting her to sign a mountain-load of paperwork a few weeks before they’d married, late at night, after she’d had a couple of wines, reassuring her it was all just trivial stuff. She’d trusted him. Hadn’t even bothered to read what she was signing. What a damn fool she’d been.
The reality of what it meant hit her like a tonne of bricks. She was going to leave here with exactly what she came with – basically nothing. All the money she’d put into the house, refurbishing it, all the bills she’d paid … none of it mattered now. Lachlan and his parents were going to make damn sure she left broke, monetarily and emotionally. How was she ever going to be able to afford a place on her own, one that would accommodate a horse and a dog? Tears threatened in her eyes, yet she closed them and willed them away. She was not shedding another tear over him, or their failed marriage, or this piece of paper in her hands. Something would give, and she’d find a way out of this mess. She had to.
Something else was paperclipped to the pre-nup, a small white envelope. She reluctantly opened it. Her fingers trembled as two photos and a handwritten note tumbled to the floor. Her knees cracked as she knelt to retrieve them. There was no mistaking who it was in the photographs, their hands all over each other and their lips touching. It was her stepfather and Kathryn Jensen. Juliette was horrified. Just how Lachlan had got the pictures and what he intended to do with them, she didn’t want to know. Her throat felt as if it were about to close over as she began to read the note.
Ironic, isn’t it, that your revered stepfather is cheating too. Who would have thought he’d do such a horrendous thing to your mother, esp
ecially being a man of god? If you move while I’m away this week, make sure you only take what was yours to begin with, and nothing else, and make sure you keep your lips shut.
Don’t make me have to spill your father’s secret, Juliette. If you expose my private business or try in any way to challenge the pre-nup, I’ll be forced to expose these photos. Your dear mother will be humiliated, your stepfather will lose his position as a respected man in this town, and possibly even his role as minister, and my parents will be left with no choice but to ask him and your mother to move out of the home they so generously gave them.
What happens now is up to you. Take care, Juliette.
Lachlan.
Tears falling, she covered her mouth as she felt her world crumbling. Lachlan was a bastard, but this was a whole new level of deceitfulness. He’d just stooped to the lowest of the low, once again, to get his own way.
Well, she wouldn’t allow it. It was high time she spoke to her mother and tried to make her see sense. The photos were going to be an almighty shock, but her mum deserved to know the truth of the man she was married to. Just like she had deserved to find out what Lachlan was doing behind her back. Lachlan had no idea about the horrific childhood she’d had because of her malicious stepfather. These photos might actually be the icing on the cake, the final straw that would make her mother see Malcolm for the horrid man he really was and leave him. She could only hope and pray it would be so. Lachlan might have given her the best gift.
Desperately needing fresh air, she tossed the envelope and prenup on the table, told Brute to stay put, and then stormed from the house towards Warrior’s paddock, the photos still clutched in her hands. Realising, she shoved them safely into her back pocket. It was a bit of a walk, but she needed to let off steam before she reached her horse. Once there, and not bothering to saddle up, she swung aboard, walked him through the gate and then ordered him into a canter. Warrior, always keen to get out of his confines, accommodated her cued changes, his gait widening as they headed towards the seclusion of the Crystal National Park with Juliette clinging to his mane.
At the end of her tether, she gave in to the freedom of the ride, mindful now wasn’t the time to turn up on her mother’s doorstep. She needed to calm down before she did or said anything. And she wanted to talk to her mother when Malcolm wasn’t around. This time of the day, the creatures of habit they both were, they’d be sitting down to their five-o’clock-on-the-dot dinner. So, not knowing exactly where she was headed, she rode on in what felt like a dim bleak world. But before she knew it, she was at the Hunter Farmstead, staring at Joel’s front door from Warrior’s heaving, sweaty back, her breath catching in her throat and her horse blowing and stomping beneath her.
She snapped to. Her stomach somersaulted, backflipped.
What in the hell was she doing here?
She was about to make her escape when the door swung open and Joel emerged, barefoot and dishevelled, and looking handsome as ever. With his hair damp, his low-slung jeans accentuating his six-pack and the strength of his magnificent chest – the breadth of it adorned with a tattoo of an eagle, wings spread so the tips touched each of his collarbones – he was a sight to behold.
Trying to look away but unable to, she reminded herself to pull it together as she offered a hesitant wave. ‘Howdy.’
He acknowledged her with a slight tip of his head. ‘Hey there, Jules. Fancy running into you here of all places.’ His teasing smile deepened. ‘Did you take a wrong turn somewhere?’ He wandered down the steps towards her.
‘Smartarse,’ she choked out, making sure to avoid his eyes as he neared because, right now, as vulnerable as she was, she would undoubtedly tumble right into them.
‘Sorry, but you know me. Can’t help myself.’ His big shoulders moved in a faint shrug. ‘I thought you were going to call, not call in, but I have to admit, this is way better.’ He stopped just short of her and, glancing up, his warm smile gave way to creases of concern. ‘Shit, Jules. Are you okay?’
So much for trying to act all cool, calm and relaxed – she must look exactly as she felt. Her chest was so tight, she was afraid to speak, but she forced herself to, still avoiding his gaze. ‘I’ve been better,’ she admitted as she dismounted with ease.
Joel took a step closer. ‘What’s happened?’ He scanned her face, frowning.
Sudden, sweet relief swept through her, just by being near him. ‘Lots.’ Wishing she could close the small distance between them, that she could fall into his arms, her eyes suddenly swam with fresh tears, and try as she might to blink them away, they fell and rolled down her cheeks.
‘Oh, Jules, please don’t cry,’ he said softly, doing what she longed for by coming even closer, then brushing a knuckle along her cheek. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Caught within his gaze, she had no words right now. Being so dangerously close to the one man who had always been true to her heart, close enough to now fall into his arms, she ached to rest against him, to feel the warmth of his soul and the beat of his heart beneath her cheek – the rise and fall of it mesmerising her. The pair of them sharing a moment, filled with all the sentiments she didn’t want to admit to herself, she quickly glanced down at her feet, shockingly as bare as his. She hadn’t even noticed she’d run out of the house without shoes on.
‘Jules.’ His voice was raw and husky and low. ‘I’m really worried about you. Please, talk to me.’
For his sake, she found her voice. ‘I don’t know where to start.’
He ran his hand down her arm and then tucked it into his jeans pocket. ‘How about from the beginning.’
She bit back a sob. ‘It’s a really long story.’
‘I’ve got all the time in the world for you.’ His expression was overwhelmingly empathetic.
So grateful for this man right now, she was struck speechless by the passion in his eyes. All she could do was smile sadly and nod.
Hesitantly, he reached out and swept a wisp of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Then, he rested his hand on her cheek. ‘Sorry to say, even though you’re rocking the dishevelled hair and smudged mascara, you look like hell.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ Her sad smile widened just a little, and she couldn’t help but admire his rugged masculinity up close. Stubble darkened his chiselled jaw, and the fine line of hair descending from his navel to beneath his jeans … so help her, she longed to trace it, and his kissable lips, with her fingertips.
He reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. ‘You want to come in for a cuppa? I promise I’ll make you a mean one.’
She wanted to accept his kind offer so badly. ‘You got something a little stronger?’ What little resolve she’d had dissolved in a flash of heat as her breath hinged in her throat. She was treading into dangerous territory, although she couldn’t help but like it, couldn’t help but love the feeling it gave her, couldn’t help the fact that being in the presence of this magnificent man, one who had loved her like no other, made her feel so desired, so important, so shockingly carnal.
Joel nodded. ‘Sure do.’ The look he swept over her made her feel as if she were on fire from head to toe, and something deep inside her thawed in that magical moment. ‘I’ve got American Wild Honey and some tawny port.’
‘A glass of port sounds nice …’ She skidded to a verbal stop. Panicked, she looked to the distant mountains, her pulse pounding and her mouth dry. ‘I don’t think it’s wise for me to come inside with you, Joel.’
‘Well, we can hang out back, if that makes you more comfortable.’ He gestured to the verandah with a sweep of his arm. ‘It’s a great spot to sit and watch the sunset and chat about what’s going on, if you’d like to.’
She paused, chewing her lip. It would feel so good to open up to someone she could trust, someone she could depend on.
‘Don’t overthink it, Jules. We’re just friends yakking, that’s all.’
She released the breath and smiled. ‘Yeah, okay. When you put it that way,
I suppose there’s no harm in us just hanging out.’
‘Exactly,’ Joel said, returning her smile. He looked to Warrior. ‘He’s an absolute beauty.’
Juliette glanced up at Warrior proudly. ‘He sure is. He’s my absolute world, apart from Brute.’ She gave the horse a gentle pat. ‘Aren’t you, buddy?’
Joel gave him a scratch on the neck and Warrior pressed into his hand. ‘Ha, he likes that.’ He peered back at Juliette. ‘What about Lachlan?’
‘What about him?’ she snapped a little too defensively.
Joel’s brows shot up. ‘Woah up, I’m not having a go, just thought he’d be part of your absolute world too?’
‘He used to be. That’s something we can talk about over that glass of port.’ She watched a look of surprise, then almost relief, slip over Joel’s face.
‘I reckon we might need more than a glass by the sounds of it.’ He eyed her thoughtfully.
‘Maybe we might.’ She watched Joel share a brief moment with Warrior, relating like only a true horseman could, and her dispirited heart swelled.
‘Want to bring him out back too? It’s fenced so he can just wander about.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ She gave Warrior a pat on the neck. ‘Come on then, buddy, you heard the man.’
With Joel’s hand gently resting on the lower part of her back, he lightly steered her around the house with Warrior in tow. Getting Warrior settled, she looked to the very porch she and Joel had sat on all those years ago, sharing kisses and talking excitedly about one day making this place their home. Wistfulness overcame her. She really hadn’t ever stopped loving him, not that she would ever admit it out loud.
‘You can hang out here, drink in the serenity, and I’ll go grab us that drink.’
Joel’s husky voice snapped her from her racing thoughts. ‘Okay, thanks.’ In a few more heart-pounding steps, she was by the outdoor settee, the very one they’d snuggled on many times over, and settling into it. She offered Joel a small smile. He did the same before vanishing into the barn, the screen door slapping shut behind him.
