As Jaime stroked Dodge’s soft blue-grey fur, she wondered why Stirling had left in such a hurry. Ten or so minutes later, the roar of the motorbike going past raised more questions than answers. Looking out the window, Jaime could see the bike was loaded with plastic chairs and what she thought looked like a fishing rod hanging off the back. Stirling, going fishing? After his efforts with the gun and the bunnies, she’d have thought a stick of dynamite in the river might be more his style.
Chapter 15
Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny. It was going to be hot. Jaime could tell just by the heat coming through the blind. She lay back in bed and thought about her conversation with her mother the day before. In her all-consuming grief over her father, she’d really forgotten about her mother. Oh, she’d given her lip service: ‘Are you okay, Mum?’ and all that kind of stuff. But she hadn’t really appreciated how lonely her mother must have felt, having devoted her whole life to her husband and child. Suddenly Jaime had moved out and then she’d lost Jack.
Blanche was right. Jaime wasn’t like her mother. She couldn’t imagine focusing her whole attention on just pleasing a man. But you’d like to please Stirling McEvoy, whispered her mind. Okay, maybe she could imagine it a tiny bit. But the main point to this internal conversation was acknowledging she might have been a little harsh in the way she’d treated Blanche. Well, okay, maybe a lot harsh. After all, it was her mother’s decision who to marry and when.
If anyone had tried to tell Jaime what to do, she’d have told them to take a long hike. But her mother hadn’t. She’d borne the whole ‘Jaime’s being difficult’ drama with patience. She obviously believed her daughter would eventually come round. And she had. Finally.
She should at least try with Dave. It wasn’t his fault he’d been saddled with a dysfunctional stepdaughter.
She jumped out of bed, intent on acting on her new resolution, and accidentally kicked a glittering red ball that had somehow found its way into her room, sending it skittering across the floor towards the window. Dodge appeared out of nowhere, meowing with pleasure as he chased the sparkling decoration under the curtains. The cat was having the time of his life with Blanche’s decorations.
She rooted out the ball for Dodge and sent it spinning across the floor again. She laughed at the cat’s antics, then pulled up the blind and allowed the sunshine to pour into the room. As if she could get away from something the whole country celebrated, for goodness sake! And she shouldn’t try to make other people not celebrate just because she was sad. The world didn’t stop spinning just because Jaime Josephina Hanrahan wanted to get off.
Her father would have wanted her to embrace Christmas, to have fun and do all the things that made the festive season special for the Hanrahans. Reminisce over old times, remember the good things. He wouldn’t want her to be a miser or a spoilsport.
It was Christmas Day. And, goddamn it, she was going to celebrate!
Jaime was cooking pancakes – a Hanrahan Christmas tradition – when Stirling walked in the back door singing ‘Jingle Bells’. Dodge bolted at the sight of Buster the pup on his heels. Old Buster watched with a bored expression from his spot on the verandah, as if to say, ‘Young ones these days …’
‘Something smells nice!’ Stirling said, then stopped dead when he saw Jaime, kitted out in red, green and gold, wielding the frypan. ‘Um, am I in the right house?’
Jaime laughed. ‘If you want Christmas pancakes, you are.’
Dave appeared, rubbing his eyes. ‘From that delicious smell, if he doesn’t want them I sure do.’
Jaime served up three plates of pancakes, dripping with butter and sugar. ‘Help yourself to the lemons. I can even say I had a hand in growing them myself.’ That was because she’d liberated the tree from a thicket of head-high weeds.
‘Jaime, you darling,’ said Blanche as she walked into the kitchen looking groomed and fabulous. ‘Pancakes are a family Christmas tradition. Jack used to make them.’
As she sat down, her eyes filled with tears and Dave patted her hand. Jaime didn’t miss the touching moment. The man really did care for her mother. Her defences crumbled a little more.
‘Valerie emailed overnight,’ said Stirling through a mouthful of pancake. ‘She and Simon are thinking of staying in Europe another six weeks. Could you stay on?’
Simon? Who was Simon?
‘But what about you?’ she said, feeling her hackles go up on Stirling’s behalf for some ridiculous reason.
‘What about me? I’ll be here.’
‘But Simon?’
Stirling looked puzzled. ‘Yes, Simon Lucardy … her husband.’
Valerie had a husband? And he was called Simon. That explained the ‘S’ on the bathrobe.
‘Simon’s a QC in Melbourne,’ Stirling was telling an interested Dave and Blanche. ‘When Valerie and Mum inherited the farm, he couldn’t move up here fulltime, so I did.’
Valerie and his mum? That made Valerie his –
‘My aunt’s a fair bit younger than Mum. When Dad retired a few years back, and he and Mum moved down to a place just outside Lake Grace, Valerie moved in and asked me to help her run the property. She loves the place.’
Jaime sat down with a thump. Blanche took in her pale face.
‘What’s wrong, darling? You’re as white as a ghost.’
‘Nothing,’ Jaime said, smiling. ‘Nothing at all.’
It seemed like the whole town had gathered down by the river. Christmas tinsel swung like gossamer threads from the massive red gum trees, baubles spun in the sun, and there was even a Christmas tree thanks to Dave.
The big man had his arm around Jaime’s mother. As Jaime glanced across he saluted her with his can of beer. He was well on the way to being very pissed, but happy too. And Blanche was getting on like a house on fire with Irene, Susan and Sharyn (with a ‘y’ not an ‘o’).
Her mother had loved her footbath and was planning on using it when she got home after partying the afternoon away. And Jaime’s orange macramé owl wasn’t too bad. Dodge hadn’t liked it though; he’d tried to scratch out its wooden eyes and unravel the loose fibre strands when no one was looking. Jaime’d made sure she stayed ‘not looking’ for as long as she could.
‘Hello there.’ It was Stirling. He had a basket and an esky in his hands. ‘Want to come with me for a bit?’
She looked up into those flinty blue eyes and smiled. She’d go anywhere with a man who looked as delicious as that. ‘Sure, where?’
‘You’ll see.’
They quietly slipped away from the group, past Ryan and his backpacker who were trading bonbon jokes with Bluey and Joan, past her mother and a gaggle of other women, past Dave and the blokes now talking serious hunting stuff, through some trees and further along the river. At the bend, Stirling took Jaime’s hand to help her over some rocks and he didn’t let it go. His big paw swallowed her fingers. They felt safe there. Content.
They rounded a corner and came across a massive old eucalypt with resplendent limbs stretching out across both bank and water. Under it stood a rickety table, two plastic chairs and what looked like some fishing rods ready for use.
Stirling turned Jaime towards him and gazed down at her with tenderness. ‘Your mum said you went fishing with your dad last Christmas Day, so I thought …’ He took a breath. ‘I thought maybe you’d like to do that again, rather than … well, you know … celebrate with the crowd.’
She went to say something but he held up a hand. ‘Let’s just go sit down.’
She nodded, marvelling at the kindness of this man who was usually so reserved, and who seemed to make a career out of pissing her off.
‘You sit here and I’ll just bait up your rod,’ he said.
Jaime sat down on the plastic chair and took the proffered rod. She watched as he loaded a wriggling worm onto her hook. He’d even brought an ice-cream container of fresh bait!
‘Are you going to cast it, or do you want me to?’ He gave a little laugh that was ha
lf wry, half unsure.
Jaime figured she’d better say something. ‘Stirling –’
‘Jean brought me some fresh ingredients to make a salad,’ he interrupted. ‘It’s in the esky along with a bottle of wine. Bluey sent that. There’s a rug in the basket, and cutlery and stuff. I promise you there isn’t a single Christmas decoration in there.’
He … they … had gone to all this trouble for her? Jaime felt a lump rise in her throat.
‘And I know you said you didn’t do Christmas presents but I’ve got you a little something.’ He dragged over the basket and rooted around in it. ‘Seeing as I made it myself it shouldn’t feature on your “no-go” list. I’m hoping you’ll see it as a keep-sake from Polly’s Plains.’
He pulled out a parcel wrapped in brown paper and gently dropped it into her hands. She gazed at it in wonder. After everything that’d happened between them over the past three weeks, he’d made her a gift?
With shaking hands she opened the outside wrapping, then the white tissue paper inside. Drew in a breath. There, nestled amongst the soft thin folds, was a beautifully made, chunky black leather belt with swirls of decorative quilling covering its circumference. It was gorgeous. It must have taken him hours. Days even.
‘I hope you like it.’ He sounded unsure again.
This was all so unlike him. Usually Marble Man was as solid as Ayers Rock. What was going on?
‘Do you like it?’ There was that tentativeness again.
‘I love it!’ she said. ‘It’s the most fabulous present anyone’s ever given me.’ Her father included.
Finally, Stirling looked a bit more sure of himself. More like the man she knew. But now she was feeling guilty. She hadn’t got him anything.
Hang on. She dropped her rod onto the ground, stood up and clutched at the back pocket of her cut-offs. She hadn’t washed them since their last trip to town. Yes! It was still there.
She drew out the shop-wrapped package. ‘I’m sorry it’s a bit battered.’
Stirling smiled. ‘That’s usually the way with you, Princess.’
Jaime laughed. He was right.
His pleasure when he opened the package and saw the belt buckle was worth all the Jimmy Choos money could buy.
‘I can see I’m going to have to make another belt,’ he said.
‘Nah. You can just lend it to me if you like?’
She laughed, then sobered quickly when his big hand clasped her chin and tipped her face up towards him. The look in his eyes was so intense. So beautiful. So full of wonder, and a little bit of something else …
She watched as his lips descended. Felt herself reach up towards him. When their lips finally touched, it was like she’d died and gone to heaven. Any thoughts of why, how and who fled her mind. All his warmth and tenderness was poured into that kiss. It was divine.
He pulled her into his hard body, deepened the kiss. She responded with glee, her tongue probing and flitting, until he groaned and held on tighter. His hands came around her back to stroke her skin lightly, sending quivers of desire racing through her.
All too soon he pulled back and said ruefully, ‘We’d better stop before I do something stupid.’
‘Being stupid’s my job,’ said Jaime. ‘But you can kiss me like that any time you want.’
‘I plan on taking you up on that. However, if we’re going to eat fish for dinner, we’d better get to it.’
Jaime was reluctant. ‘I guess so.’ More kisses would’ve been good. But a sudden movement at their feet had them both jumping to grab at the fishing rod. ‘I’ve got a bite!’ she yelled, snatching it up just before it landed in the water.
Stirling was right behind her, laughing. ‘Reel it in, Princess.’
Just like her father used to say. This man was so like Jack Hanrahan – soft and caring on the inside, tough and resilient on the outside.
‘You’ve got him!’ said Stirling.
Jaime concentrated on winding her reel. She was determined not to lose whatever was on the end of the line. Finally a beautiful big rainbow trout flipped and flopped its way out of the silvery water. She hauled it in until the fish was dangling in front of them.
‘I think he’ll be enough to feed us both,’ said Stirling, gazing at the trout and then her with pride.
Jaime deftly grabbed her catch, unhooked it, and knocked its head on a nearby rock, trying not to let him see just how much this whole experience was affecting her. ‘I caught a trout on my last fishing trip with Dad too,’ she said with a half-smile. She could feel tears coming to her eyes, and tried desperately to hold them back. She really didn’t want to cry on Christmas Day.
‘Oh, Jaime,’ said the big man beside her, before he gently took the dead fish from her hands and placed it on the grass. He took her into his arms and cuddled her in tight. ‘I meant this to be a happy experience, not a bittersweet one.’
Jaime allowed herself to surrender to his hug for a few minutes, before leaning back and gazing up into his searching eyes. ‘Do you know what? I think today is my father’s way of saying, life must go on. We live, we breathe, we do Christmas … and we still catch rainbow trout. I just have to learn to live with the fact he’s not here to do it with me.’
‘He would’ve been so proud of you, Jaime.’
‘You think?’
Stirling nodded, ‘Yep, you’re a great girl. And what’s more, that’s one big fish.’
Jaime gave a half-laugh. It was a huge fish. ‘Stirling? I really appreciate all this,’ and she waved a hand towards their picnic.
‘My pleasure. But I’d better crank up the hot plate so I can cook us some lunch.’
‘Ummm … Stirling?’
‘Yep?’
‘I was just wondering … Do you think … I mean …’
‘C’mon, Princess, just spit it out.’
‘Well, I realise you’ve gone to all this trouble for me,’ she gestured towards the table and chairs, ‘and I really appreciate it. But I was thinking …’ The rest of the words spilled out in a rush. ‘How about we head back and have Christmas with the others?’
He frowned. ‘What about your dad and all that stuff?’
Jaime did what she’d wanted to do for weeks. She put her hand up and gently caressed his forehead, the side of his face, his cheeks, smoothing out the lines. ‘I really think he’d want me to celebrate, not be sad.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m positive. In fact, Mum and I had a good talk yesterday. I’m going to try and get on better with Dave so I may as well start today with a family Christmas.’
‘He seems like a nice bloke.’
She nodded. ‘And he loves my mum. I need to give him a chance.’
‘We all deserve a chance, Princess.’ Stirling grinned. ‘Even beauticians and fancy saleswomen wearing ladybeetle gumboots.’
Jaime laughed, and Stirling landed a kiss on her head, took her by the hand and led her over to one of the large trees on the riverbank.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
He pointed upwards. ‘See that branch of skinny leaves that looks a lot darker than the others?’
She nodded.
‘That’s mistletoe. It’s a parasite so normally I’d hate it. But today …’ He pulled her in close and dropped his lips to hers again. ‘It’s perfect.’
Chapter 16
Jaime didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to move a muscle. She just wanted to lie under her soft, cuddly blanket and immerse herself in the memories of yesterday, especially the juicy bits … Leaning into Stirling’s hard body. How he’d lightly traced his fingertips across her heated skin, his mouth dipping down to meet hers. The kiss to end all kisses. Who’d have thought a country boy could kiss so well! Sex with Stirling was going to be incredible, if and when they finally got there.
She closed her eyes, dreamed of Stirling’s limbs enveloping her and warming her. His hands –
‘Jaime! Dave’s finished in the bathroom!’
S
he dropped back into the real world with a thud, and heard Dave burping and farting his way along the passage. She pulled the covers up over her ears to try to block it out. She didn’t know a man could fart so loudly! No, wait, she chastised herself. She was supposed to be giving her stepfather a chance.
‘Okay, Mum,’ she yelled back, knowing that if she didn’t, Blanche would come looking for her and Jaime didn’t want anyone barging in and destroying her fluffy I’m-floating-on-air moment.
Stirling McEvoy. She rolled the syllables of his name around her mouth. She could still taste him on her lips. Smell his scent on her skin. Oooooo, it was just so delicious. Maybe she wouldn’t have a shower –
‘Jaime! I’ve got toast here for you!’
Blanche again. Louder this time.
Jaime rolled over, shoved a pillow over her head and tried to re-immerse herself in the memories. She’d managed a few more kisses before a slap across her bottom had her rolling over and shooting upright. Blanche stood there, a plate of toast in one hand. She’d already put a cup of coffee down on the bedside table.
‘Rise and shine, sleepyhead.’
‘Don’t you ever knock?’ Jaime grumbled.
‘I’m not running a restaurant around here and you weren’t coming.’
‘I was coming.’ Jaime indicated the bathrobe at the end of her bed. ‘I was trying to find my dressing-gown.’
‘Well, here’s a coffee to get you jump-started.’
She didn’t need any help in that respect. Thanks to her memories of yesterday, she was already jumping.
‘Stirling came by. He said to tell you he’d pick you up at eleven.’
Yesterday evening, before he’d headed back to his own place, Stirling had invited Jaime to his family’s Boxing Day lunch down in Lake Grace. She wondered what it meant that he wanted her to meet his family. Or maybe she was reading too much into it. He’d met her mother, after all, and Dave.
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