‘Get away?’ She eyed him severely. ‘I’m not one of your dogs that you chain on the back of the ute.’
‘Shit. I’m stuffing it up.’ Red-faced, he looked at the floor. Then he raised his head and met her eyes with an intensity Amelia had never seen before. ‘I want to ask you to marry me, Milly.’
Her heartbeat sped up, an involuntary smile spreading across her face. Though they’d been going out for a little over a year and things were going well, she hadn’t seen this coming.
‘But I don’t have anything,’ Paul continued. ‘I can’t afford a ring. This place isn’t a house—it’s a bloody shack.’ He swept his arm around, gesturing to the kitchen cupboards without doors, the fridge with more rust stains than white enamel, the woodstove that needed a tonne of kero to get started, the peeling paint . . . all signs of his late father’s neglect. ‘I couldn’t expect you to live here, share it with the mice and cockroaches. I’m up to my eyes in debt and I can’t afford to fix anything.’
‘Honey—’
‘Let me finish now or I’ll never be able to say this again.’ Paul took her hands and pumped them up and down, as though trying to release his frustration. ‘I’ve got nothing to offer. Dad left it all in such a mess it’s going to take me years to get back on track. By then, you’ll have had enough of waiting.’
Warmth rushed over Amelia as she looked at his deeply tanned face, the dark blue eyes. The anguish there was clear, but she didn’t know how to make it go away.
‘Oh,’ was all she managed.
Paul let her go and walked to the kitchen door, open to let in a cool breeze. There was no flyscreen, another thing the place needed. Looking over his shoulder, Amelia could see the moon rising, its soft light touching the land. She tried to organise her thoughts while the silence stretched out around them and grew uncomfortable.
The house was crumbling, there were no two ways about that. Wind whistled through the gaps around the windows in winter. Paul had to boil hot water on the stove for the dishes and the toilet was outside. Amelia made a point of going to the loo before she arrived and straight after she left.
Paul’s father, Old Brian Barnes, had certainly left him in an awkward situation when he’d died. It was a miracle Paul had been able to convince the bank not to hold a mortgagee sale. All the time Amelia had known him, he’d been working his backside off just to make ends meet.
She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, she stared into his face. His eyes were filled with concern and his handsome features were strained.
‘You’re not going to lose me,’ she said and smiled. ‘Idiot.’
He went still as he looked at her.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll make it work somehow. I don’t need a ring or a flash house. You’ve got me wrong if you think I want all of that stuff. I just need you.’
He stared at her, disbelieving.
‘True,’ she affirmed. ‘Of course, if you’re going to be speechless every time something significant happens . . .’
He blushed and grinned, then pulled her to him. He didn’t kiss her, just held her close. ‘So, you’ll marry me?’
She gave a muffled laugh against his shoulder. ‘Well, we have to get an indoor toilet before I move in. I’ll take that over an engagement ring any day!’
Paul chuckled. ‘I think that’s fair. But there’ll be a ring, I promise. One day, there’ll be a ring.’
‘Hmm, never thought you were so romantic!’ She let him go, laughing.
He pulled her back and kissed her. ‘I didn’t either,’ he admitted. He smiled down at her, then said, ‘So, you want to wait before we get officially engaged, or tell everyone now?’
‘Let’s keep it between us for the time being. Though I’m not into long engagements. And . . .’ She twirled around. ‘How about we make some plans? A lick of paint here, a bit of no-more-gaps there . . .’ She was smiling, but then she stopped at the look on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Milly, you don’t get it. Hopefully in the next few months I’ll be able to get that toilet in, but there’s absolutely no money right now. Not even enough for a sack of cement.’
‘Doesn’t mean I can’t pay for things.’
‘No way, Amelia. No way.’ Paul shook his head firmly. ‘I’m the provider. I’ll make a home for you. You’re not going to spend your money on this joint.’
What? She frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous—we don’t live in the Dark Ages. I’ve got money set aside and if I’m going to live here, then what does it matter if I put some of it into the house? After all, we’ll get to be together quicker. And don’t pull all that macho “I’m the bloke” bullshit with me! You know I’m not a little woman.’
He took a breath. ‘Milly, I’m serious. It’s not a matter of me being stubborn, it’s . . . it’s a matter of pride. Look, I had no say in how Dad ran this place into the ground. I had to stand by and watch what he did. I need to get this house right for you, for me, for us. I have to do it myself.’ He looked at her, his eyes begging her to understand. ‘Don’t worry, though. I’ll make it work.’
Amelia stared at him for a long moment. In some ways, he was right: he needed to fix up his childhood home for his own self-respect. She also knew that when he was like this, he couldn’t be swayed overnight.
‘Okay then,’ she said lightly. She reckoned she’d be able to wear him down eventually, at least on a few things.
Gus was trying hard not to lose his temper. Bloody hell, these old bludgers could be so stubborn! ‘We need to face facts,’ he said. ‘No one here wants to take on the job and we need a treasurer. It’s time we let a younger person have a go. We’re not gonna be here forever, you know.’ Gus sat back and crossed his arms.
The room erupted.
‘I reckon that’s a really bad idea!’
‘She’s a nice girl, but . . .’
‘What about the time she lost little Henry Marshall?’
Suddenly people who couldn’t remember where they were last week were able to recall Amelia’s stuff-ups from years ago.
‘Well, boys and girls, the simple fact is that no one else is puttin’ their hand up.’
‘I think she’d be good at it,’ Pip said firmly. All heads turned to her. ‘Sure, she can be a bit flighty, but she has a kind heart and a big one. You saw the sort of passion she brought to her first meeting, all her dreams and hopes to make this year’s the biggest and best rodeo we’ve had for a long time. She started that Facepage, or whatever you call it, and—’
‘Well, why isn’t she here now?’ Jim cut in. ‘She send her apologies?’
A few people nodded their heads.
‘No, she didn’t, but we’ve all been guilty of that,’ Gus said. ‘Won’t give her life because of it.’
‘I think it’s a good idea, too,’ Fiona said quietly.
‘Do you?’ snapped Kev Hubble, Jim’s best mate. ‘Well, when the till won’t balance you can put the money in to fix it.’
‘Enough!’ Gus banged his fist down on the table. ‘Kev, that’s a bit harsh, mate.’
Cappa stood up, cleared his throat and spoke in his usual ponderous way. ‘Why give Amelia such a responsible position? It’s nothing against her personally, but she should work her way up to something like that. You have to understand the job before you take it on.’
‘That’s right,’ Jim thundered. ‘You can’t just roll in and be treasurer.’
‘I don’t see you volunteering,’ Fiona said, a surprising amount of heat in her voice. ‘You’re the reason this rodeo is going to die. You’re a stupid man, Jim Green.’
Uproar broke out and it took Gus a few minutes to settle everyone down.
A thin, wiry lady, with soft grey curls to her shoulders, got to her feet. Anne Andrews had been silent throughout the debate. Pushing her glasses back onto her nose, she opened her mouth. ‘You lot should listen to yourselves. Do you really think Amelia would be in this position by herself? Of
course not!’ She shook her head. ‘She’d be doing it with our help, our support, which we should be happy to give. We can train her. Get her doing things the way we like them done.’
‘But—’ started Jim, and found himself silenced by the finger Anne pointed at him. She didn’t talk too often, but when she did people listened.
‘And what if she says no?’ Anne continued. ‘Where’s that going to leave us as a functioning rodeo committee? I tell you: up shit creek without a paddle. You all seem to be forgetting something. Amelia runs her own bookkeeping business. She does my farm books and a few others around the traps. She has a degree in commerce, for crying out loud.’ Anne strode to the front of the room and faced them. ‘A young, passionate person is just what this role needs. I say we give her a crack at it. Go on.’ Through narrowed eyes, Anne peered at the stunned committee and said, ‘I dare you,’ then went back to her seat with purposeful steps.
Good job, thought Gus. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I move that we nominate Amelia Bennett as our committee treasurer.’
As she drove up through the hills, Amelia glanced over the countryside. The moon was nearly full and the white glow it cast gave her goosebumps. She pulled Pushme off the road, killed the engine and got out.
Sitting on the bonnet of the car, she let her eyes roam the shadowy, bluish landscape. It was a nice change from how brown everything was in the daylight. March had been unusually warm. The bush was parched and waiting for those opening rains to sweep up from the sea.
Amelia heard a sharp bark in the distance, then sheep murmuring and the thud of hoofs as they bolted. The fox must have been looking for something to eat.
Turning her thoughts back to Paul, she tried to understand his need to provide for her. She sort of could, but it was still frustrating as hell. She was independent. The office work she did for her parents and other farmers around the district gave her an income, and she’d be happy to put her small savings into something she knew would be hers forever. Hers and Paul’s.
Smiling to herself, Amelia hugged her knees as she replayed the night in her mind. His words, his touch, his love. From their first date, she’d been so comfortable with him. He didn’t label her: with him she wasn’t John and Natalie’s little girl, or Graham’s scatty sister. Paul just loved her as Amelia Bennett. She knew they’d have a great life together—she just wanted it to start sooner rather than later.
Thinking about Paul made her warm all over. She remembered the night they’d met, thrown together on bar duty at the local agricultural show. Despite the continual orders for beers, they’d introduced themselves, chatted and laughed. At the end of the shift, Paul had asked if she wanted to watch the fireworks with him.
Of course she had. She loved fireworks, and she didn’t mind spending more time with this handsome stranger. But Paul didn’t take her to the edge of the oval where everyone always sat. Instead, he put his big, warm hand on her waist and guided her up into the tumbledown grandstand that no one was supposed to use.
She whispered, ‘Are we allowed up here?’
Paul shook his head and grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I know where to put my feet. Just stay with me and we won’t fall through.’
After some giggling and stumbling, they settled down with a perfect view. As Amelia watched the fireworks, she felt like she was at the back of a movie theatre. She snuck sideways glances at Paul while colourful sparks reflected over his face and shone in his eyes. A spiderweb had attached itself to his brown hair and she wanted to brush it away.
He caught her glancing at him and—he told her later—couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers. He put his hand to her face, pushed her dark brown hair back and gathered it at the nape of her neck, the whole time drinking her in.
Then they kissed.
And they’d been together ever since, mostly spending time at his farm, Eastern Edge. They avoided Granite Ridge. Natalie had a set against Paul’s family that came from Old Brian’s drunken exploits and some inappropriate comments he’d made over the bar one night. She’d mentioned, more than once, that the Barnes family seemed ‘exceptionally common’. But that didn’t worry Amelia too much—she was used to her mother’s disapproval.
At least there was one family member who accepted Paul. That was Amelia’s Aunty Kim, her mum’s sister and polar opposite in both appearance and personality. A curvaceous lady, with long, curly dark hair that fell down her back, a wide smile and a ready laugh, Kim was an unmarried businesswoman who ran the most popular roadhouse in the district. She’d been looking out for Amelia all her life, so if anyone would be happy for her and Paul, it would be Kim.
Sighing happily, Amelia let the future tumble around in her thoughts. The gains they could make on the farm, working together. Kids!
Wait, kids? She shook her head. Maybe that was getting a bit too far ahead.
In the back of her mind, something niggled. It was going to take a long time to make Eastern Edge profitable. If Paul was really going to be as stubborn as he appeared, it would be years before they could achieve anything. She’d be getting fitted for a wedding dress and a coffin around the same time. Her brow wrinkled.
On the breeze she caught the smell of eucalyptus and her frown turned to a smile. These sorts of nights were her favourite: she felt like dreams and wishes could come true. Tossing her head back, she stared at the stars until they blurred.
Then she realised something else was bothering her, lurking in her memory.
‘Oh damn!’ She jumped off the car and yanked open the door, then grabbed her phone from the charger and opened the diary app.
Rodeo committee meeting 7pm was typed under the day’s date, with lots of exclamation marks. She checked the time on her watch. Ten o’clock. Too late now. ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger!’ Even too late to ring and apologise.
‘When will you ever learn?’ she muttered, all her happiness gone. She’d been wanting to make a good impression ever since she’d returned to town, yet no matter how hard she tried, she seemed to stuff something up at least once a week.
Fancy forgetting the rodeo meeting of all things! It was an event that she’d worked tirelessly for.
But that’s just me, isn’t it? she thought bitterly.
‘Ah, our Milly,’ she could hear her mother fondly saying to other parents when she was in primary school. ‘Heart as big as a road-train. Such a kind girl. Such good intentions.’ The but was always there, though. ‘But she’d forget her head if it wasn’t screwed on.’ Then Natalie would pat her daughter’s hair and smile, and Amelia’s embarrassment would swell. The worst thing was, her mother seemed to be right.
Even now, after getting her degree and starting her business, Amelia had Post-it notes all around her bedroom, reminders of things she had to do. In Pushme, there were notes in yellow, blue, green and purple stuck to the dash. Her brain was always rushing; it would tick over and she’d jot something else down as she drove. She wanted to improve everything she was involved with. The trouble was, she had so many whirring thoughts that she tended to forget some of them.
As if on cue, Amelia’s phone rang. She stared at the screen for a long moment before answering. ‘Hi, Gus, I’m so sorry . . .’ she began.
‘Forgot, didn’t you, Amelia?’ he asked kindly. She could hear the laughter in his voice.
‘Yeah. Paul invited me out to the farm for tea, and I didn’t check my diary.’
‘Not to worry. We would have had to ask you to leave anyway.’
‘What?’ Butterflies shot through her stomach. ‘Just because I missed one meeting?’
‘Because you were the point of discussion.’
‘Oh no! What did I do wrong?’
‘Now why would you ask that? Would you like the job as treasurer?’
Stunned, Amelia said nothing, her mouth moving as if she was a fish on dry land.
‘You there? Hello?’ Gus shouted into the landline. ‘Damn mobiles,’ he muttered. ‘Hello?’
‘I’m here,’ Amelia finally answered. A smil
e had found its way back to her lips. ‘I’m here! Are you sure?’
‘Yep. What do you reckon?’
‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were messing with me!’
‘Can you do it?’
‘Of course,’ she answered indignantly.
‘Well then, the job’s yours. See you tomorrow morning,’ Gus said, matter-of-factly. ‘And, Amelia?’
‘Yeah, Gus?’
‘Try to remember where the office is.’
Amelia could hear him laughing as he hung up. She was so happy she didn’t even care. She hit Paul’s name in the contacts—she had to tell someone her news.
Chapter 2
Amelia rolled over and checked the bedside clock.
Five-thirty a.m. Friday. The rodeo was a week and one day away.
Through the wall she heard her father’s muffled voice, a sure sign that the house was about to wake. That meant time for her run.
She rolled out of bed and slipped on the running clothes she’d left on the hook at the back of her door. She didn’t put her sneakers on inside, but carried them along the hallway with her. The front door opened silently on oiled hinges and she stepped into the clear morning. With a few careful hamstring stretches and a kilometre walk to warm up, Amelia kicked into her five-k track. Music pumping through the ear buds, she ran without thinking, sometimes in time with the beat and sometimes not.
To her delight, her father, John, had agreed to feed up some steers for the rodeo. Kept close to the house, they’d grown used to Amelia and no longer ran away as she followed her trail around their paddock. Instead they raised their heads, kept chewing, and watched until she passed. Amelia loved that; it meant not only that she belonged, but also that she could look at them and imagine them in the rodeo ring, ducking and weaving as horse and rider mirrored their moves, easing them along.
She noticed all the little daily changes in the paddock. Even though she wasn’t a farmer, she still loved the land and stock. Occasionally she helped out in the yards, but if her brother was around she preferred to be nowhere near.
Emerald Springs Page 2
