Beneath Outback Skies

by Alissa Callen

  She couldn’t stop her burst of laughter. ‘A coffee connoisseur?’

  The last of his tension dissolved into a grin. ‘Yes, exactly, someone who appreciates a good coffee.’

  ‘Okay, Mr Coffee Connoisseur,’ she waved her hand to her left, ‘I’m walking this way to visit Anne at the library and then going to the vet’s to pay some bills, so should you wish you can come with me or you can head off and find a coffee to appreciate.’

  ‘I’ll come with you as far as the library. Seeing as there are books and papers for Connor, I’ll carry them.’

  Before she could say she didn’t need any help, Tait set off towards the red brick building on the corner sporting a big white ‘library’ sign out front. With a final check on Dusty and Bella, Paige followed. As she drew alongside Tait, he again pulled out his phone.

  ‘What’s your mobile number so I can text you to check when you’re ready to head home?’

  ‘No need.’

  ‘We can still meet in an hour but it might be handy to swap numbers in case something crops up.’

  ‘No.’ Paige stepped over a crack in the footpath where a nearby gum tree’s roots had warped the concrete.

  Tait’s brow furrowed as he pushed his sunglasses on top of his head. ‘No, we won’t meet in an hour? Or no, swapping numbers won’t be handy?’

  ‘No.’ She turned through the library gateway and onto the narrow path. ‘I don’t have a mobile.’

  Tait’s fingers snared her wrist. She stopped and swung around, her words of protest dying on her lips. He stared at her with such concern, such disbelief, that all she could do was gaze back at him.

  ‘You don’t have a mobile?’

  She managed to shake her head. He was so close she could smell the scent of the rose soap they’d bought last town visit and see the darkness of his lashes. So close that even though he no longer touched her she remained frozen in place like a wallaby trapped in a spotlight.

  ‘Paige, you must have a mobile.’

  ‘I’m fine without one. It doesn’t bother me if I’m a techno-dinosaur.’

  ‘This is serious. For your own safety you should carry a mobile.’

  She took a step backward and the metal rail lining the library path pressed into her lower back. ‘Why, so I can call for a tow-truck if I break down? Or for road service to change my flat tyre? I can look after myself.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt you can but there could be a day when you need one. Or need to be contacted.’

  ‘The two-way radio works perfectly in the ute.’

  ‘What if you aren’t in your ute and are, say, walking around town. How could people contact you then?’

  ‘Easy.’ She continued along the path. ‘They’d call Anne. She always knows where I am.’

  She heard Tait groan. ‘You might have an answer for everything, but I’m buying you a phone.’

  Paige stopped and faced him. Behind her the automatic library doors slid open. She hardly noticed the waft of cool air that pushed past her. Why did Tait insist on being a Good Samaritan? She’d didn’t want or need his help or his charity.

  ‘Why? I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not family. You won’t ever see me again after next week. Why on earth would you buy me a phone?’

  His blue gaze held hers. ‘Because a mobile saved my life. And one day it could save yours.’

  She blinked. Standing before her was no polished, charming, city pretty-boy. Just a serious man with weariness in his eyes.

  A woman’s calm, quiet voice spoke into the tension. ‘Paige, he’s right, you know.’

  Paige turned on her heel. Anne had seen them through the window and had left her post behind the counter to come and greet them. Paige smiled and walked forward to give the librarian a hug.

  ‘I seem to remember having a similar conversation with you a couple of years ago,’ Anne said as she drew away.

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, but what I said then still applies. When the drought breaks I’ll get a phone. Until then I’ll be fine.’ She glanced between Tait and Anne. ‘Anne, please meet Tait. He’s …’

  Anne clasped Tait’s outstretched hand. ‘It’s okay, I know who you really are.’ She winked.

  To Paige’s surprise Tait’s smile froze. ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. Connor told me. He said not to listen to any town gossip about you and Paige. He said the real reason why you’re at Banora Downs is for a break.’

  Tait’s smile again shone sunrise-bright. ‘Yes, that’s right. I’ve come for a change of scene.’ He threw Paige a swift glance. ‘And to bolster the local economy by purchasing a mobile phone.’

  Paige gritted her teeth. Tait’s glib, easy charm had returned.

  ‘That’s very thoughtful of you,’ Anne said, ‘but I think what we have here is a mobile-phone stalemate. And I happen to have the perfect solution.’

  Anne’s sensible shoes whispered across the carpet as she headed to the counter. Paige followed slowly in her wake. She gazed around at the book-lined shelves, losing herself in the past. Over in the children’s corner she used to fill her basket with books and sit in the colourful chairs and enter magical kingdoms of fairies and happy endings. The touch of her mother’s gentle hand would then return her to the real world. Together they’d lug the mountain of books to the counter where Anne would smile, check them out and press a red star stamp onto the back of her hand.

  Paige’s feet dragged. She still trod the same well-worn path towards the counter. A smile would still light up Anne’s ageless face. Emotion ached in Paige’s throat. But now her beautiful mother wouldn’t be there to hold her hand when a story made her cry, or reassure her happy endings really did exist. Paige stopped at the counter. If only she could press rewind to a time of childhood innocence when hope went hand-in-hand with happily-ever-afters. When there was no death and no drought.

  ‘Paige?’ As if from a long distance away Anne’s voice registered. The world rushed back into focus.

  ‘Sorry, I was off with the fairies.’

  ‘Hope it was raining there in fairyland,’ Anne said, voice soft.

  Paige smiled a smile she didn’t feel. ‘Yes, yes it was.’

  ‘Now,’ Anne placed a small box onto the counter and pulled out a black phone, ‘while this won’t make it rain here any sooner, it will resolve the mobile issue.’

  Paige opened her mouth to speak but Anne was quicker.

  ‘Before you say anything, Paige, please listen. You would be doing me a favour by using this phone. It has nine months of prepaid credit that is being wasted. It’s a long story but I bought this phone when I lost my other one. Needless to say my original mobile turned up soon after I purchased a replacement.’

  Paige eyed off the black phone as if it would leap out of Anne’s hands and take a chunk out of her arm. ‘Can’t you transfer the credit to your other phone?’

  Tait took the mobile from Anne and pressed the ‘on’ button. Music sounded as the phone carolled into life.

  ‘Is your other phone carrier the same as this one?’ he asked Anne.

  She shook her head.

  ‘There’s your answer, Paige.’

  She pursed her lips. At university she’d owned some antiquated mobile that was different to her friends’ snazzier versions, so she was far from techno-savvy. But there was something in the way Anne and Tait looked at her that tripped her suspicions. She didn’t know whether to believe the two of them or not. It was as though they’d formed an instant united front. They were up to something. She just had no way of knowing what.

  Tait pressed some buttons and his phone sang in his pocket. He took out his mobile, typed in a number and Anne’s phone chimed. He pressed more buttons before reaching for Paige’s hand and placing the phone onto her palm. The mobile felt so cold compared with the warmth of his brief touch.

  ‘There you go. Numbers are exchanged and in contacts and you have about an hour’s worth of battery life.’

  Paige stared at the phone. ‘Anne, are you sure?’
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  ‘Yes, dear. Please take it.’

  Since her mother died Anne had gone out of her way to keep an eye on her. Paige couldn’t understand why the kind-hearted librarian had never remarried. A year into her marriage to a local farmer she’d lost her husband when a wheat silo he’d been climbing on collapsed. She’d then moved into town and Paige guessed that the library had become Anne’s life.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Now how about I get those newspapers and books for your father? I’m sure you’ve many jobs to do.’

  Anne bustled away but Paige wasn’t convinced it was because of any urgency. She had a sneaking suspicion Anne disappeared before Paige could voice any second thoughts.

  Tait scooped the box off the counter and passed it to her. The box hung suspended between them, forming a physical link, before Tait slowly let go.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘No worries.’ Seriousness lingered in his eyes and grooves again bracketed his mouth. ‘Now where did you say that coffee shop was?’

  Three texts and two coffees later, Tait pulled up outside the local veterinarian. From Dusty’s trampolining on the back seat he knew they’d arrived at the place where Paige had arranged to meet him. He half-opened the window to distract the excited red heeler. Doggy slobber instantly streaked the glass. He briefly shut his eyes. His car was never going to be the same.

  Dusty barked out the window as Paige emerged from the vet’s. She crossed the footpath, smiled at the dog and slipped into the passenger seat. Tait couldn’t help but notice her smile dim as she looked across at him.

  ‘Everything okay?’ If he’d learned anything over the past days it was that when her chin tilted, he’d need his wits about him.

  ‘Yes. I mean, no, not really.’ She pinned him with a stare that would have made his old headmistress proud. ‘You haven’t been into the vet this morning, have you?’

  ‘Trust me, this is my first and last visit.’

  As if on cue Dusty whined, skidded from one side of the car to the other and again stuck his head out the window.

  ‘Sorry.’ Paige leaned between the front seats to check the blanket still covered the back seat. ‘He quite likes going to the vet. They have the best treats. Pop the window up and let’s get going and he’ll soon calm down.’

  As Paige predicted, by the time they turned onto the empty main street, Dusty had resumed his customary position on Tait’s shoulder.

  Tait attempted to look at Paige past Dusty’s muzzle. ‘Why did you ask if I’d been to the vet’s?’

  ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I wanted to make sure you hadn’t been helping again.’

  By the way she’d enunciated the word ‘helping’ he was sure she meant ‘meddling’.

  ‘Helping?’

  ‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘Not that your generosity isn’t appreciated – Dad did enjoy the chocolates and Tim Tams – but you’ve come here for a break, not to help people you don’t know.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I don’t know you and Connor. I’ve learned more about the two of you in three days than I would have from living next door to someone for three years in the city.’

  ‘That still doesn’t mean you need to feel obliged to solve our problems. You have your own to deal with.’

  ‘True, but I don’t feel obliged at all.’ This time he hesitated. ‘Someone once helped me, someone very much like Connor, and in a way by helping Connor I feel like I’m helping him.’ Tait didn’t need to see Paige’s face to sense her curiosity. Her knees had moved as she’d shifted in her seat to take a closer look at him. He spoke quickly. ‘Now what happened at the vet’s?’

  ‘To tell you the truth, I’m not too sure. I went in to pay a bill only to find it wasn’t what I expected.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  ‘No, the opposite. It was at least a third of what the bill should have been. I queried the amount but Laura was adamant that that was all I owed, despite me having the original invoice as proof. She said there’d been some mix-up and the real amount was the lower figure. So I paid it, but I’m positive there wasn’t any mix-up.’

  ‘What do you think happened?’

  ‘Not sure. If it wasn’t you, then someone else paid the bill.’ Concern underpinned her words. ‘Someone who would need the money to pay their own bills.’

  Connor Quinn sat in the shade of the front verandah and looked out over what had once been a garden. A few hardy agapanthus now lined the path and a crisp-looking native bottlebrush provided the only focal point in an otherwise flat and barren space. Molly would be heart-broken if she knew how the drought had ravaged her life’s work.

  He consulted his watch. Tait had called to let him know when they’d left Glenalla and they should be home soon. He looked towards the long driveway that rambled down to the old milk-can mailbox. His eyes closed.

  A lifetime ago he’d walked up the driveway, his worldly possessions rolled into a swag draped on his shoulder. He’d caught a lift with the postman who said Banora Downs might be looking for a farm hand. Feet blistered in his ill-fitting boots, he’d trudged his way towards the distant roofline. He had no idea what he’d find at the homestead but it had to be better than the misery and degradation he’d left behind.

  Connor’s eyelids flickered as images of his childhood shouldered through his memories. His last days on English soil, eating with silver cutlery in the grand country house where all the ‘lucky orphans’ had assembled before their new life in Australia. But the promises of riding a horse to school and of picking oranges in the sunshine soon imploded into a decade of mistreatment for the child migrants. As soon as he’d turned sixteen, he’d left Somerdale Farm to work on the railway. He’d then drifted further and further west where wide open spaces guaranteed anonymity and peace.

  The driveway seemed to have gone on forever until, light-headed with thirst, he’d reached the spot where the road curved in front of the sprawling house. He’d stopped, lowered his swag and wiped the sweat from his brow. When he’d focused again he’d seen a slender, dark-haired young woman in a white dress standing on the verandah. Molly.

  Connor’s lids lifted. He rolled his chair to the edge of the verandah and swallowed past the sadness that remained as raw as it had been on the day he’d buried his wife. A whisper of red dust waved on the horizon. He ignored the lump in his throat and checked his watch again. Tait and his V12 engine had made very good time. He tracked the growing dust cloud. He should have known better than to indulge his memories. No good ever came of thinking about the past. It was the future he had to look towards, as well as protect. A future in which he had to make certain Paige would be free to pick oranges in the sunshine.

  Chapter Six

  She’d done it.

  Paige buckled herself into the farm ute and released the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. She’d finally managed to leave Tait at the homestead. When he’d been up before her this morning and insisted that he help feed the cattle, she’d been certain he’d shadow her all day. But lucky for her, Tait was a connoisseur of old cars as much as he was of coffee, and he’d again joined her father in his shed.

  Every so often she considered the empty seat beside her as she guided the ute along an uneven track. For some reason it felt strange not having Tait with her. She was sure if she breathed deeply enough she could catch a hint of his aftershave from the passenger seatbelt. She looked sideways again but this time at the mobile that lay in the basket on the floor. Shiny and new it gleamed like a diamond among the ute’s dilapidation and dust. The contrast between her world and Tait’s world couldn’t be any more obvious.

  She slowed as she spied a mob of kangaroos beneath a group of shady trees close to the track. The trouble was it was getting harder to stop the lines blurring between her and Tait’s worlds. The more Tait stepped across the divide and helped her, the more her instincts urged her to push him back. She’d let down her defences once before
for a man who’d promised to always be there, and then when she’d needed him she’d realised she’d been on the bottom rung of his priority ladder.

  The worn-out gearbox grumbled as she changed gears. If she were honest, Tait’s concern about her not having a mobile phone touched something deep inside. Something she’d thought forever buried. She couldn’t let the whispers of her yearning to have someone to share her life with get any louder. So what if by lifting all the hay and grain this morning he’d lightened her physical load? So what if he’d not only planted a punnet of mint and basil, but also some pretty pink dianthus flowers in the pots at the kitchen back door? And so what if by his amicable arguing with Connor over who made the best V8 supercar driver, he’d returned a twinkle to her father’s eyes? She simply couldn’t get used to having him around. Tait would soon return to his city life and with him would go all the laughter and light he’d brought into their world.

  She couldn’t accept any more of Tait’s help. Even if he super-glued himself to the ute’s seat he could no longer come with her into the paddocks. He’d caused enough trouble. She had to keep her physical and emotional distance. Banora Downs was her responsibility and she wasn’t letting any man, no matter how disarming his smile or good his intentions, cause her to lose focus. Her father and the animals depended upon her.

  To her right a broken windmill came into view but no white pony stood in the shade of the rusted tank flicking her tail against the flies. Paige stopped to open a gate. The midday sun seared through the thin cotton of her father’s blue shirt. Gidget must be waiting for her daily feed in her second favourite spot on the other side of the dam beneath the coolibah tree. Paige didn’t usually visit the pony so late but she’d lost time tracking down a box of car manuals for Connor and Tait.

  The ute bumped its way across the paddock towards the wide-spreading coolibah tree, but again there was no sign of the pony. Paige’s thumbs tapped the steering wheel. While she’d been away droving, a neighbour’s teenage son had been kind enough to cut across their two farms and feed her. But she was sure he’d fed her in the usual spots so Gidget shouldn’t be waiting anywhere else. So where was she?