‘Can’t they come with us?’ she asked as he made his way back to her.
‘Nope. This is an adults-only affair.’
Jaime widened her eyes. Maybe she should’ve changed into a G-string!
The big stockman climbed onto the bike again and signalled for her to jump on. As she slid in behind his broad back and glued herself to him, she reflected on how seven weeks could change your life. When she’d arrived at Polly’s Plains she never would have thought that riding a motorbike would become part of her daily routine.
Stirling revved the motor and they took off. Down the hill and over the verdant river flats, which had stayed marginally green thanks to a few summer showers. Through the Rose River, where water splashing up her legs caused her to squeal. He shook his head, but was obviously used to her caterwauling by now because he didn’t ease off the throttle. He just kept on ploughing through the water and up the opposite bank, then up a winding track and over a hill.
Up a few more switchbacks they went, rising higher and higher. It took Jaime a while but gradually she realised she’d been up here before. Way back when she’d first arrived at Polly’s Plains. The night she almost starved because he wouldn’t let her finish her beef roll. The evening he’d taken her to a hilltop that looked out over the whole property and the view was sensational. And there it was again.
She pulled off her helmet and sat gazing at the view. It was even more spectacular than she remembered from her first time up here. The homestead still sat in the distance as regal as ever, except now, knowing the place more intimately, she could tell which tall chimney led to which room. She could even make out the roof of Stirling’s house, thanks to a red-and-white Santa. Stifling a giggle, Jaime allowed her eyes to travel slowly across the surrounding landscape. Blue-grey eucalypt-covered mountains still rolled their unswerving way to the valley floor. Lush river flats shining in the setting sun abutted the lazy river, which wove its ribbon-like way off into the next valley. There was the bunny paddock with its slender new growth saplings, the outline of the pile of rocks where she’d sat with her mother, the huge river red gums under which they’d had Christmas lunch – everywhere she looked now told a story of her time on Polly’s Plains. For Jaime, recognising the places she’d been was like meeting an old friend. Like coming home.
‘Why’s it called the Rose River?’ she asked the man standing right behind her.
His arms came up to clasp her shoulders and turn her body slightly to face the cliffs in the distance. She leaned back against his chest and he held her tighter. It was a glorious feeling.
‘See those cliffs,’ he said, his breath moving the strands of hair near her ear. It tickled and she dug herself into his body harder. ‘Most of the outcrops along the river are a pinkish stone, so the first settlers named the river after their colour. On some days the water turns pink too, a reflection from the stone. I think the name suits it, don’t you?’
Jaime nodded. Contentment welled through her whole body like a rosy glow. She felt as if she was turning pink herself with happiness.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Stirling said in his soft, deep voice.
It was exactly what he’d said last time they were here. But now, rather than just admiring the view, Jaime’s heart was invested in both the land stretched out before her and the man standing behind her. That made everything different. The experience felt sharper, more focused.
Stirling spun her to face him, putting a little distance between them so he could see her face, read her expression.
‘I need to ask you one last time,’ he said. ‘Does Marty mean anything to you at all?’
Jaime gazed into his face. He was so earnest. ‘Marty Berensforde has never been, nor ever will be, my boyfriend. He means nothing to me.’
Stirling’s grip on her arms relaxed a fraction.
‘But you didn’t ask about Skinner,’ she added. ‘Or your brother-in-law Bert for that matter.’
The big stockman looked shocked. Jaime laughed and stroked his face.
‘As if, you idiot. You are so easy to reel in, Marble Man.’
Stirling grabbed her around the middle, tipped her sideways and tickled for all he was worth. Jaime wriggled and gurgled and laughed until she cried.
‘Okay, okay, you win!’ she said, holding up her hand. ‘I’m a naughty girl. But you have to admit, you love me for it.’
The big man standing over her stilled, seemed to take a deep breath. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘You sound a bit shocked,’ she teased.
He smiled. ‘I’m not. I knew it ages ago. And seeing as we’re talking about love, I guess my question is: do you love me, Princess?’
She was silent for a moment, and Stirling frowned. Jaime got to her feet and walked to the edge of the cliff, spread her arms wide to encompass all she could see of the magnificent view.
‘Coming to Polly’s Plains has been one of the best things I’ve done in my whole life,’ she said. ‘I was missing my father so much. The bush here, the mountains and the river, have given him back to me.’ She turned to face the man she loved. ‘You’ve given him back to me. And you’ve even got me taking advice from my mother. She told me I had to ask you straight out.’
‘And I’d really like you to come away from that edge,’ he cut in. ‘You’re making me nervous. I’ve just found you - I don’t want to lose you.’
‘You won’t lose me,’ she said, swinging around like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. She felt so happy!
Argh! She slipped over the cliff.
Jaime opened her eyes to a clatter of rocks, pebbles and shale raining down on her chest. Some flicked into her eyes and mouth, causing her to gasp.
Stirling landed on all fours beside her. ‘Jaime, are you okay?’ His face was ashen.
‘Well, I was until I got that mouthful of gravel.’
‘Can you move everything?’
‘I have no idea. If this is your idea of a romantic interlude, I think I’d prefer the Lake Grace pub.’
‘Damn it, woman, I thought you were dead. The way you were lying there …’
Jaime took pity on the man. She hadn’t fallen far, thank goodness. The ledge she was lying on was only a couple of metres from the top of the cliff, even though her knees, elbows and palms were all clamouring to tell her they were grazed and bruised.
‘I’m fine, Stirling. Don’t stress.’
‘Thank God this ledge was here, otherwise you’d have been gone.’
She didn’t want to think about that. ‘Can you help me up? I’ve got something to say to you.’
Stirling shook his head. ‘When I said I expected anything could happen when you’re around, I didn’t mean this.’
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ she said.
‘Like what?’ His normally tanned face was still pale.
‘Like I’m the most exasperating woman on this earth.’
‘That’s a bit hard when you are.’
Jaime laughed, which hurt her head, but she wasn’t going to tell Stirling that. The big man helped her to her feet and together they scrambled back up the staggered face until they were standing safely on top once more.
‘You were saying?’ her stockman asked as he gathered her gently into his arms.
‘I was saying that I, Jaime Josephina Hanrahan, love you, Stirling McEvoy.’
‘Good. I’ve got something for you then,’ said Stirling, pulling a box from his pocket. It was tiny and red and had a squashed crimson bow on the top. ‘Sorry about the ribbon. I tried to protect it, but, well, you know, the bike …’ He handed it to her a little hesitantly, as if he still wasn’t sure this was actually happening.
She pulled at the ribbon, fingers quivering. She finally got the knot undone on the third try. Surely it wasn’t a ring?
It wasn’t. In the box was a key. To a padlock by the look of it. Jaime held the piece of metal up, mystified. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not.
Stirling nodded towards the toolbox o
n the back of the bike. She laughed. What a classic. So Stirling. So country.
Leaning over the big steel toolbox, she slid the key into the lock and opened it. Inside were two boxes. One shoebox sized, the other bigger and longer.
‘You want me to open them now?’ she asked.
At his nod, she pulled out the smaller box – and gasped in delight at the insignia on the side. Inside, ensconced in tissue paper, was a pair of bright cerise-pink Jimmy Choos. She clasped them to her chest and sighed.
‘Happy?’ asked Stirling with a grin.
‘Delighted. They’re divine!’
‘Reach in again then.’
Jaime hauled out the bigger box. There was nothing written on it. Just plain white wrapping. She opened the carton and fell about in hysterics. Inside was a pair of black, bulky motorbike boots with chunky silver buckles – just like Stirling’s but a lot smaller.
Jaime squealed with pleasure. ‘So they do make them in my size!’
He crouched down and helped her kick off her Colorados and tug the new boots on. ‘I thought you might need them for the winter. For riding in the wet around here.’ He peeked up at her as he did up the last buckle. ‘That’s if you’re sure you’re planning on staying?’
Jaime grinned, grabbed hold of his face and kissed him with all her heart. ‘Of course I’m staying. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.’
Stirling chuckled and pulled a pouch from his pocket. ‘Then you might like this too.’
Jaime gasped as he dropped a ring into her palm. It was bright yellow gold with a diamond that sparkled the same colour as the cliffs high above the Rose River.
He took hold of her left hand and wriggled the ring onto her finger, saying, ‘Princess, will you marry me and live here on Polly’s Plains as my wife, and never look at another man again, otherwise I’ll be obliged to kill him? Failing that, punch his lights out.’
Jaime laughed. ‘I reckon I can manage that, so long as you forget Tiffany the Tosser ever existed.’
‘Tiffany who?’
Jaime broke away and did a little jig in her new boots. ‘Boy, are we going to have some fun in the next sixty-odd years. Can I get an Aussie shepherd like your dad’s too?’
Stirling groaned. ‘What have I let myself in for?’
‘It’s too late now, Marble Man, you are snookered.’ She wiggled her newly clad finger at him. ‘And I have an Argyle diamond to prove it.’
‘So I’m set to argue my life away with a city chick turned country lover?’
Jaime grinned. ‘Yep, and you’re going to adore every minute of it.’
His answer was a very long kiss.
Author’s Note
Balveno Island is entirely imaginary, as are the majority of settlements mentioned in my books. In saying this, I do drop into my stories the occasional real-life town to give you a feel for the countryside (or in this case the lakes system) where my fictional places are set.
Acknowledgements
Once again, many thanks to Random House Australia for allowing me to share my stories with you. In particular huge credit to my skilful and gorgeous publisher Beverley Cousins. To Catherine Hill, Jake Davies, Jo Penney, Lucy Inglis and Janine Brown, along with every other person in this great publishing house who works so hard to ensure my books make it onto the shelves, thank you. Much gratitude to Nicola O’Shea for her expert editing, and huge appreciation to each and every bookseller and store in Australia and New Zealand who stock my titles; your support is so appreciated.
To my agent, Sheila Drummond – your wise guidance is golden. To Karen Chisholm and Adam Donnison – thank you for another fun year of sharing the highs and lows of farming interposed with the worldwide web. To Helen White – love and thanks for helping to keep my family and me sane; and to everyone who helped us move farms in 2014 (particularly Wayne Doull) – what an effort. We are so grateful.
This book is as much about friendship as it is about love, and I am blessed to have a whole raft of incredibly generous and wonderful friends who make me laugh, hold me up when I cry, advise me, tease me and generally make life worth living. So to all of you, this is my personal and yet public thank you for everything you say and do to enrich our lives. In particular, to the girls who keep me on track on a daily basis: Sandra Dekkers, Jenny Green, Emma Williamson, Andrea Killeen, Pamela Beveridge, Glenda Anderson, Kenielle Bechaz, Michelle Sellings and Kate O’Donnell. What would I do without you?
To my writing mates Kate Belle, Kathryn Ledson, Jennifer Scoullar, the rest of the Little Lonsdale Group, along with all the rural girls, particularly Fiona Palmer, Fleur McDonald, Karly Lane, Rachael Johns and Alissa Callen – your friendship means a lot. To Liz and Trevor Watt and our gun ‘Lardner Park team’, thank you for another fabulous year. And to all my loyal readers, website subscribers, Facebook and Twitter commenters – thank you. I couldn’t have produced another book without your support.
To my entire family – heartfelt appreciation for all your love. To my sister, Kerry – here’s cheers to new horizons; and to my brother, Paul – happy 40th, mate. To my dad (and Pat) for everything you do; Phill Kerby for fencing, shed building, kid-sitting (and the excuse for a real coffee machine); along with Graeme Osborn and Doreen Lawless, for the ‘heavy-duty’ gardening. The MF 675 will always have a home here.
To my gorgeous husband, Hugh. A new farm, a new book and, yes, it’s in writing, you can keep the peppercorn tree. It’s the least I can do for all your love and support. To my beautiful ‘brats’: Brent – happy 21st, my darling; Callan – our ute-driving, gun-shooting, motorbike-riding country boy; and Katie – our laughing, vivacious, farm-loving princess, all my love. Thanks for letting me write another book.
Margareta Osborn is a fifth-generation farmer, and a wife, mother and lover of all things country, who has lived and worked on the land all her life. She holds a Diploma of Conservation and Land Management specialising in Community Coordination and Facilitation. Home is a beef property overlooking a beautiful lake in the Gippsland high country, where she lives with her husband and three children.
She is also the author of the bestselling Bella’s Run – a No. 1 bestseller – Hope’s Road and Mountain Ash.
Visit www.margaretaosborn.com.au
Margareta Osborn
@margaretaosborn
Also by Margareta Osborn
Bella’s Run
Hope’s Road
Mountain Ash
Bella’s Run
Bella Vermaelon and her best friend Patty are two fun-loving country girls bonded in a sisterhood no blood tie could ever beat.
Now they are coming to the end of a road trip which has taken them from their family farms in the rugged Victorian high country to the red dust of the Queensland outback. For almost a year they have mustered on cattle stations, cooked for weary stockmen, played hard at rodeos and outback parties, and danced through life like a pair of wild tumbleweeds.
And with the arrival of Patty’s brother Will and Bella’s cousin Macca, it seems love is on the horizon too …
Then a devastating tragedy strikes, and Bella’s world is changed forever.
So she runs – from the only life she has ever known. But can she really turn her back on the man she loves? Or on the land that runs deep in her blood?
Margareta Osborn’s No. 1 bestselling rural romance – set in Victoria and Queensland – is brimming with the energy and vitality of country life and the Australia bush.
Available now
Hope’s Road
Hope’s Road connects three very different properties, and three very different lives …
Sixty years ago, heartbroken and betrayed, old Joe McCauley turned his back on his family and their fifth-generation farm, Montmorency Downs. He now spends his days as a recluse, spying upon the land – and the granddaughter – that should by rights have been his.
For Tammy McCauley, Montmorency Downs is the last remaining tie to her family. But land can make or break you – and, w
ith her husband’s latest treachery, how long can she hold on to it?
Wild-dog trapper Travis Hunter is struggling as a single dad, unable to give his son, Billy, the thing he craves most. A complete family.
Then, out of the blue, a terrible event forces the three neighbours to confront each other – and the mistakes of their past …
From the author of the bestselling Bella’s Run comes another captivating rural romance set in the rugged Australian bush.
Available now
Mountain Ash
After years of struggling as a single mother, Jodie Ashton has given up on love and passion. What she craves now is security for herself and her beloved daughter Milly. And marriage to widower Alex McGregor, the owner of the prosperous Glenevelyn cattle station in the East Gippsland mountains, will certainly offer that. If only he wasn’t so much older and so controlling.
Needing space to decide her future, Jodie reluctantly agrees to a girls-only weekend at the Riverton rodeo …
Meanwhile, stockman Callum McGregor vows off women, after his latest one-night stand costs him his job in the Northern Territory. Perhaps it’s time to head back to his family home, Glenevelyn, to check out for himself the ‘gold-digger’ his father seems determined to marry.
But first, on his way through Riverton, he plans to stop off at a rodeo.
Two lives are about to collide in one passionate moment – with devastating results …
Available now
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