Beneath Outback Skies

by Alissa Callen

  Anne nodded from over at the window. ‘Speaking of doing things for the kids, have you seen where Tait is?’

  ‘No. Where?’

  Paige joined her beside the window overlooking the tennis court. Akubra on, Tait had a child’s racquet in his hand, hitting balls over the sagging net towards five children. Only Sean managed to hit the ball back, the other four girls were too busy laughing or pirouetting like ballerinas. Once out of balls, Tait leaped over the net to chase the shrieking kids, before collecting the scattered balls. The children raced to the other side of the net and waited for him to again shoot the balls toward them.

  Paige turned away from the window. She ignored the warmth filling her chest. It was nothing to her if Tait appeared to enjoy the company of children. He’d said he wasn’t a man who avoided commitment and wasn’t averse to settling down. It was just that the timing wasn’t right for Bronte and her daughter. Paige picked up the list of Balgarry school students. Chris had fed her the same line. The timing wasn’t right. For smooth-talkers like Chris and Tait, the timing would never be right. Tait admitted he was a workaholic and as for Chris, well, she realised now he’d been fixated on just one thing. Himself.

  She jumped as her phone chimed in the pocket of her best jeans. She placed the student list on the closest desk and dragged out the mobile. Tait had sent her a text. She held it out for Anne to see. The older woman read it with a smile.

  Call me. About to melt in heat.

  Anne laughed. ‘Poor Tait.’

  Paige glanced out the window to where the tennis game had been abandoned and Tait now had Sean on his back and a grinning girl attached to each leg. She smiled instead of dialling. Tait was certainly giving the children a day to remember.

  ‘Paige,’ Anne said, ‘please put the poor man out of his misery and rescue him. He’ll soon have four little girls hanging off his legs.’

  ‘Do I have to? It’s been so peaceful having him off socialising.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay.’ She called his number as she walked back to the window. It took five rings until Tait untangled himself from the kids and could retrieve his phone.

  ‘Melted yet?’ she asked by way of greeting.

  His husky chuckle made her stomach flip. ‘Another five seconds and I’ll be impersonating a snowman.’

  She held the phone a little further away from her. The deep timbre of Tait’s voice concentrated in her ear lifted the sensitive hairs upon her neck.

  She saw Tait place his mobile against his chest and talk to the children. They all nodded. No doubt he was telling them he couldn’t play any more as Paige needed him.

  He again spoke into his mobile. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘School room. Look up at the window.’

  He did as instructed. Even with distance and glass between them, his high-wattage smile gleamed bright. He raised a hand and waved before walking towards the gate of the tennis courts. The kids trailed behind him.

  ‘I think you’re more like the Pied Piper than a snowman,’ she said before she hung up.

  If he’d ever needed an example of the resilience of the outback spirit, Tait only had to look at the people eating their lunch around him. Smiles flashed, conversations flowed, but every so often weary gazes would lift to the sky as if by sheer willpower they could make it rain. On the surface it was all sausage sandwiches and cold beers but underneath ran a current of desperation. People were hurting and a get-together such as this provided a brief chance to unwind. He looked at the woman beside him. Even for hard-to-sit-still Paige.

  A little girl with long brown pigtails sat on her lap talking about her pony called Moppet who liked apples. Paige listened and nodded, a dreamy expression on her face. Across from Paige, Anne and Connor sat next to each other with the ease of familiarity. Tait eyed off the gap that had opened between him and Paige. As lunch had progressed she’d slid her way to the end of the bench seat. He could now park a brumby ute between them.

  He studied the people gathered closest to him. He hadn’t thought it possible to ever see a more battered hat than Paige’s but there were at least four that were as weather-beaten. Just as well yesterday by the dam his new Akubra got covered in mud. It would have stood out as much as his luxury car, which was currently parked among the assortment of farm vehicles.

  He shifted on the bench at the realisation he was growing tired of being different. He’d always operated as a separate entity, by necessity as well as by choice. Strong-willed, he hadn’t always fitted in at school or boyhood organisations, such as Scouts. And now as CEO of AgriViz he was too busy to try to belong anywhere – Paige laughed and he looked across at her – or to anyone.

  High heels clacked on the concrete path before the school gate squeaked and announced a woman’s late arrival. A figure in a white dress and wearing an oversized straw hat, complete with a large yellow flower, powered down the path. Paige’s swift intake of breath informed him who the late-comer was even before he recognised her from the grocery store. She was the person Paige had gone out of her way to avoid.

  As the woman neared the group, she scanned the crowd from beneath the brim of her hat. When she saw Tait her red lips rounded and stretched into a wide smile. She headed straight for him.

  ‘Hello, you must be Tait,’ she said, offering her hand. ‘I’m Myra. Myra Jessop.’

  He stood, shook her hand and then ignoring Paige’s subtle shake of her head, indicated the space on the bench. ‘Would you like to join us?’

  ‘I’d love to but can only sit for a minute.’ She nodded towards Connor and Anne, who smiled and then continued talking. ‘I’ve been flat out and would kill for a cuppa.’

  Tait seated himself in the middle of the bench next to Paige, allowing Mrs Jessop room to sit on the end of the seat. Paige edged away and threw him a dark look.

  Mrs Jessop placed her armful of bags and folders onto the table and settled herself on the bench. ‘So, young man, how are you liking being out here?’

  ‘It’s been great, so far.’

  Mrs Jessop’s gaze darted to Paige as if Tait hadn’t spoken. ‘I was so pleased to see the two of you together in town the other day. It’s been a while since Paige has shown interest in a boy.’

  He bit back a smile. It’d also been a while since he’d been called a boy.

  ‘I keep telling her she isn’t getting any younger, you know,’ Mrs Jessop continued.

  This time he couldn’t hide the smile that morphed into a chuckle. Paige kicked his calf beneath the table.

  ‘That’s good advice.’ He risked a glance at Paige’s flushed face. ‘I keep telling her to stop losing her keys.’

  Again Paige’s boot walloped his leg.

  ‘Oh, how precious. I had no idea you were so absent-minded, Paige.’ Mrs Jessop’s laughter tinkled. ‘So tell me, you two, how did you meet? After all, Paige, you never get out of your jeans, let alone get away from Banora Downs.’

  Beside him, he felt Paige stiffen. He put his arm around her and pulled her resistant body close.

  ‘We met …’ he winked at Mrs Jessop, ‘… on an internet dating site.’

  He fought to keep a straight face as Paige’s hand slammed onto his thigh and her nails dug in through the denim of his jeans.

  ‘An internet dating site … how wonderful!’ Mrs Jessop had a voice that would out-do a PA system. Conversations stalled as people sneaked glances at them. A frown indented Connor’s forehead as he looked at them.

  ‘Yes, I couldn’t resist Paige’s website profile. She sounded so … sweet.’

  Paige’s nails dug deeper into his leg.

  But Mrs Jessop appeared unconcerned Paige’s lips were pressed into an uncommunicative line. The local source of information had gathered the answers she’d been searching for and now was after her cup of tea.

  ‘Just make sure,’ she said as she collected her bags and folders, ‘that when Paige comes to the ball next weekend she at least wears proper shoes. Last Damn-the-Drought Ball she
wore boots. Such a waste of a pretty dress.’

  ‘Ball? You didn’t tell me there was a ball on, honey,’ he said, expression innocent as he turned to Paige.

  ‘Well, there mightn’t be,’ Mrs Jessop said as she stood, her eagle-eyed glance dropping to where Paige’s fingers remained clamped on his thigh. Paige snatched her hand away and leaned forward to escape his hold.

  Mrs Jessop moved to the next table, swooped up an empty beer bottle and tapped it with her keys.

  ‘Attention, everyone.’

  Tait lowered his arm and braced himself. Without the safety of Mrs Jessop’s presence, Paige’s retribution would be swift and furious.

  He didn’t have to wait long. She turned to him. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’ she said in a harsh whisper.

  ‘Paige, please,’ said Mrs Jessop, ‘talking to your boyfriend can wait, I have an important announcement to make.’

  Paige’s nostrils flared but as her father reached over and patted her arm the rigid line of her shoulders lowered. Tait wasn’t fooled. The angle of her chin warned him she was far from finished with ‘her boyfriend’.

  How could he? How could Tait make such a spectacle of them both?

  Paige gripped the edge of the wooden bench so hard she was sure a woodgrain pattern would be permanently imprinted on her fingertips. Just wait until Mrs Jessop had finished speaking. Tait would know exactly how not-so-sweet she could be. Her father’s worried gaze caught hers.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she mouthed, knowing full well the hot colour in her cheeks made a lie of her words.

  Paige had been prepared to trade a few curious glances and whispers about Tait and herself to hide the truth he was a paying guest at Banora Downs. But for Tait to so blatantly confirm they had a relationship to Mrs Jessop, ergo the whole district, it was simply too much. It would be all right for him. In a week he’d leave and never see these people again. But she would.

  A shocked murmur through the crowd dragged her from her heated thoughts. She focused on what Mrs Jessop was saying.

  ‘So with the caterers pulling out this morning, we’re left with the mammoth task of working out how to feed everyone Friday week.’

  ‘Can’t we find another ball caterer?’ a woman questioned from the middle of the group.

  ‘The problem is,’ said Mrs Jessop, ‘that I can’t find anyone to do it for the same price as the catering company we’ve used in the past. The next closest figure would mean we’d have to charge for the tickets, instead of entry being free. The fund-raising we’ve done all year won’t cover catering over a certain amount.’

  ‘How much would a ticket cost?’ asked a sunken-cheeked farmer.

  Mrs Jessop’s smile dimmed. ‘Thirty dollars per head.’

  A collective mutter turned into a wave of foot-shuffling and head-shaking. Paige released her grip on the bench and looked around. Her anger at Tait didn’t compare with the disappointment of a community who’d worked tirelessly to put on a now annual Damn-the-Drought Ball. A ball that looked to be in jeopardy.

  ‘How about we all bring a plate?’ a too-thin mother with a baby on her lap and toddler at her feet suggested.

  ‘We could, and might have to, but remember we’re talking more than three hundred people.’

  Silence, except for the creak of the wood beside her as Tait rose to his feet.

  She went to grab his hand to return him to his seat but he’d already stepped away from the table. Now what trouble was he going to cause?

  Tait walked to stand next to Mrs Jessop, who craned her neck to look up at him. He took off his hat and gazed around at the tables. ‘For those I haven’t met yet, my name is Tait Cavanaugh, and while I might be a stranger, I feel I’ve got to know at least a few of you today.’

  ‘You know me,’ Sean called out with a grin.

  ‘And me too!’ Chloe added.

  Tait smiled at the two kids. Paige could almost hear the sound of dominoes falling as the brilliance of his smile won the crowd over.

  He held up the hat in his hand, its new, store-fresh lines failing to be concealed by red mud. ‘I’m obviously not from around here.’ He paused as people looked at his Akubra and laughed. ‘But I might have a solution to your problem.’ He lowered his hat. ‘What you need is a ball sponsor.’

  ‘A sponsor?’ The woman from the middle table questioned.

  ‘Yes, you need a company or organization to financially contribute to your ball in return for advertising or promotion.’

  ‘And I hope, young man,’ said Mrs Jessop, ‘that you have such a company or organization in mind. And if you do, that it isn’t from around here. The big companies are suffering like the rest of us.’

  He smiled again. ‘I do have one in mind and no, this company isn’t from around here. It’s a Sydney company called Digotech and they design farming software. If you give me a general figure to work with, I can make some calls.’

  Mrs Jessop opened a folder with a flourish. ‘I can do better. Here is the actual quote from the local catering company.’

  Tait replaced his hat on his head and took the paper from Mrs Jessop.

  He grinned at the crowd as he slipped the phone out of his pocket with the other. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’ Then, phone to his ear, he walked to the school house and disappeared inside.

  Paige didn’t even wait for the excited chatter to start before she stood and followed him.

  As she approached the open door she could hear him talking. ‘Thanks, Cheryl. No luck. Okay.’

  She stepped through the doorway. Tait had his back to her and continued speaking. ‘Keep trying to trace who owns the Three-M Pastoral Company and if you still can’t discover any information, I’ll try from this end as I’ll be in town …’ He turned, saw Paige and stopped. In the intense quiet, a feminine voice questioned on the other end of the phone, ‘Tait, you still there?’

  ‘Yes, I’m still here. I’ll call you later.’ He hung up, returned his phone to his jeans and smiled.

  Anger spiralled through her. All the charm in the universe wasn’t going to save him now. The paper Mrs Jessop had given him peeked out of his shirt pocket as if already forgotten about. She folded her arms and glared at him.

  He walked toward her. ‘I’m sorry. I had to come up with a plausible way about how we’d met and internet dating was it.’

  She shook her head. ‘Forget about it.’

  ‘Oka-ay.’ He folded his own arms. ‘So what’s wrong? I take it you haven’t stomped in here to ask me to take you to the ball?’

  ‘I’m not even going to answer that.’

  ‘Then answer this, what have I done now?’

  ‘Why do you have this need to jump on a white steed and promise people the world?’

  ‘That’s not what I’m doing, and you know it.’ His voice lowered.

  ‘Yes you are. You talk the talk, smile your smile, and charm everyone into believing you’re a man of his word. You have decent, hard-working people out there,’ she waved a hand toward the window, ‘hopeful the ball will still go ahead and here you are having a work conversation that hasn’t anything to do with catering.’

  A muscle worked in his tanned cheek. ‘That’s because I discussed the catering at the beginning of the conversation.’

  ‘In under a minute?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Despite her best intentions her voice rose. ‘You damn city boys are all the same. You don’t deliver on your promises.’

  ‘I hate to disappoint you but this city boy does follow through on what he says. If you want proof …’ he took out his phone and offered it to her, ‘hit redial and talk to my PA, Cheryl, and you’ll find the catering all sorted.’

  Paige didn’t accept the phone. She ground her teeth. ‘You’re the one sponsoring the ball, aren’t you? Digotech’s your company, isn’t it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I thought you said you had an investment company?’

  ‘I do. I have three companies.’ The phone again dis
appeared into his jeans pocket. ‘So what’s his name?’

  She blinked. ‘Pardon.’

  ‘The other day you asked me Bronte’s name. Now I’m asking you the name of the man who’s given you a bad impression of city boys.’

  She bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t going there. Her private life wasn’t any of Tait’s damn business. But he’d been honest with her about Bronte and about why he’d needed to leave Sydney, it was only fair she now be honest too.

  ‘His name was Chris.’ She spoke through stiff lips. ‘Chris Macintyre.’

  Tait merely nodded, waiting for her to continue. And to her surprise she found herself wanting to keep talking.

  ‘I met him my first year at Sydney University. He might have failed academically but he majored in smooth words. We went out for two years and then Dad had his tractor accident and busted his pelvis and leg. Chris chose to go to the pub and celebrate his rugby team’s win instead of coming to be with me and Dad in hospital. He promised he’d come the next day. Then there was a ute muster to go to. Then another rugby match to play in.’

  ‘I take it he didn’t ever make it out to see you?’

  ‘No, he did come, eventually. A month after Dad arrived home. It then turned out Chris’s commitment was conditional. He liked going out with a country girl, but only when she hung off his arm in the city. No amount of his charm could persuade me to again leave Dad’s side or convince me that Chris hadn’t only been interested because I came with acres.’

  Tait took off his hat, expression grim. ‘I’m sorry Chris turned out to be a selfish, spineless bastard.’ His voice deepened. ‘I might be a city boy, Paige, but take a good, long look at me because I’m nothing like Chris.’

  Before she could answer, Tait rammed his hat on his head. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve promises to deliver on.’

  Chapter Nine