by Ryn Shell
Linton slipped a gold band on her finger, and without taking his eyes from her lips, he said, “So don’t talk of our separation again...”
They paused as Rose gave Linton a matching ring.
They kissed, and clutching each other’s hands close to their hearts, they said together, “…For we will never part again—we are one.”

Pelted with peony petals, Rose and Linton posed for photos. Finally, they were married and surrounded by well-wishing loved ones, exhilaration radiated from their every expression and movement—and they moved as if two halves of one person, never out of arm’s reach of the other.
Linton grabbed Rose’s hand and kissed it. Helen captured that moment with her camera. Rose’s hand returned to lightly touch Linton’s white scared facial skin at the side of his face that contrasted sharply with his tanned cheeks.
They were surrounded by well-wishers—Trevor, Carl, Helen, Alvin—all hinting for information about the honeymoon.
“We are not telling you, lest you’ll disapprove.”
“Disapprove?” Helen gasped. “Now you have to tell us.”
“I need to see a man about a dog,” Linton said mysteriously.
Carl shook his head. “That old Australian expression could mean just about anything, including needing to go to the toilet. Can I trust you two?”
36
Rose drove while Linton navigated, and they ended up at the roadhouse where they’d met after the nine-year separation. They pulled into the wide-truck rest stop and settled themselves in their motorhome.
Having freshened up, Linton went to the door. “Lock the door after me. I’m off to see that man.”
“I’m coming too,” Rose said.
“Stay,” Linton told her.
“I’m not your obedient dog.” She closed the motorhome door behind her and caught up with Linton. “If we do this, we do it together.”
Taking her arm, exhilaration and calm passed between them.
“You guessed what I was up to?”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “I recognised Bruno’s truck when we drove in. What did you have in mind?”
“I want him to apologise to you.”
She nodded her head. “Let’s see what happens. Don’t push it. We don’t need trouble.”
“Agreed.”
They walked across the driveway and entered the roadhouse restaurant.
Bruno sat on a stool, talking loudly to a strained-faced young woman behind the checkout counter.
Looking through the window, Rose saw Bruno leaning over the counter towards the waitress. “He’s got Minnie bailed up.”
Rose hurried to the staff entrance, disappeared through the staff door and emerged beside Minnie. “Would you like some relief?”
Minnie gazed gratefully at Rose, recognition and gratitude flooding her face. “Thanks. I’d love a breather.”
“You got it.” Rose reached behind Minnie’s back to undo her apron. She donned it, carefully assessing Bruno as Minnie hurried into the back room.
A few moments later the roadhouse’s permanent manager stood in the doorway.
“Good to see you, Rose.”
He looked behind Bruno, and his eyes lit with recognition. “Linton. Great to see you back again.”
“G’day, Jim.”
“I heard it was you who rode off into the sunset with my relief manager.”
“We did hang around and look after the place until you got back,” Linton said.
“Sure, I’m just crooked on you. I might have been able to keep them working for me but for you.” Jim Mears cast an uneasy eye at Bruno and then back to Linton and said, “What brings you back?”
Linton’s eyes flashed at Bruno, then back at Jim. “You nailed it in one.” He gazed calmly into Rose’s eyes.
Chairs scraped the floor as diners positioned themselves to watch. Most of them were truck drivers who knew Linton, Jim and Bruno. If they’d not witnessed Bruno’s crazed assault on Rose, they had certainly heard of it.
“Listen here.” Bruno spun his head around to face Linton. “Is this here a setup?”
“I don’t know.” Linton glanced to the staff door. “Was there a setup going on? Was Minnie being forced to sit here and listen to unpleasantness coming from your mouth?”
“Heck, no!” Bruno shuffled on the stool. “I paid her a compliment—that’s all. I paid all the ladies that work the checkouts a compliment—that’s my nature—that’s all.”
“Saying you want to see someone naked when you pay for your coffee is offensive,” Rose said. “You need to stop doing that, Bruno.”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Bruno said. “My dad told me that if you ask every girl in the barn to do the horizontal dance, you get a lot of knock backs, but eventually you meet one who says—”
“Well, your dad gave you bad advice,” Rose said. “What you are doing is offensive.”
Linton, Jim and the diners watched and listened intently to the conversation between Rose and Bruno.
“Oh, gosh.” Bruno’s head dropped and he slithered from the stool. Linton moved to block his path. The two men gazed eye to eye.
“You forgot the magic word.” Linton stood his ground.
“Huh!” Bruno replied.
“Minnie!” Jim yelled through the doorway. “Get back here. Bruno wants to apologise to you.”
“He better, or else.” Minnie came and stood a little behind Jim, in the back room. “I’d like to give him what’s what.”
“Did you hear that, Bruno?” Jim said. “Minnie thinks you deserve what’s what, unless you apologise to her.”
“And to Rose,” Minnie yelled.
“I’m getting out of here.” Bruno shoved Linton. Being the larger man of the two, Bruno looked startled when Linton did not budge.
“Go on.” A cheerful call came from the dining area. “Show the bugger what’s what.”
There was a clatter as patrons hastily moved away from the centre of activity and repositioned themselves to watch from the back of the room.
“Stay calm.” Jim lifted his hands and gazed around the room. “Everything will be fine.” He studied the two men assessing each other. “It will be fine, won’t it, Bruno and Linton?”
“I think it’s more than fine,” Rose said. “It’s positively wonderful, wouldn’t you say, Minnie? We have ourselves a champion willing to fight for our right to work free of insulting words or the risk of physical threat if we don’t say what a bully wants to hear.”
Minnie came forward and stood beside Rose. “Linton can be my champion any day.” She flashed a beaming grin at Linton.
“Down girl. That one’s taken.” Rose laughed. “Which side of the counter will this fight be on?”
“Or…” Jim walked forward and placed a firm hand on one of Rose’s and Minnie’s shoulders. “We could all just shake hands now, and Bruno can apologise for offending the ladies and promise to mind his manners in future.”
Bruno’s reply came without warning as he thrust a punch towards Linton’s face. Linton had a split second to turn and cop it on the left cheek. He did not look much of a champion as he stumbled back, his left eye shut, and the eyelid rapidly swelling. He crashed into a table, serviette holder and sauce bottles clattering to the floor.
Rose froze to the spot, but Minnie had sprung to action. Her hand was in the ice cream bar, grabbing a scoop from a raisin-and-rum ice confection. She looked up to check her hero’s position. Linton was still down. Minnie bristled. She pulled back on the ice cream scoop, ready to take aim at Bruno. The scoop was seized from her hand from behind by Rose.
“I said he was mine,” Rose hissed. Ice cream fell off the scoop, sliding down her arm to the floor.
“Well, pardon me—bitch!” Minnie’s right hand grasped Rose’s brown locks. Her left hand clawed into ice cream.
Jim forced her hand from Rose’s head. Minnie screamed—her left hand flew to her mouth. Ice cream flung out in all directions.
A startled-looking Bruno licked the splatter of ice cream from the side of his mouth. “Are you all right, honey-lamb?”
Minnie held out her hand across the counter to show him. “I br-r-oke my finger nail,” she said in tears.
Rose stepped back—on to Jim’s foot. She jerked, jumping off. Jim caught her as she skidded in ice cream. She screamed as Jim wrenched her shoulder in the process.
Linton leapt over the counter to cradle Rose on the floor. Carefully examining her shoulder, he suddenly jerked it and then held it still by her side. “The pain will ease soon. Stay still.”
Hoots came from the back of the room. “Come on, men. You’re letting your women do your fighting for you.”
The calls fell on inattentive ears.
Linton stood, clanked around the countertop and then unrolled a long strip of commercial-width plastic wrap over the bench, left it there while he retrieved a container of vanilla ice cream, which he scraped out with his hand on to the plastic.
While Bruno administered to Minnie’s broken fingernail, trimming it carefully with the tiny scissors on his pocket-sized multi-tool, Jim and Linton struggled to restrain a container of ice cream within distorting strips of cling wrap—that refused to cling.
“What the hell are you two doing?” Rose cried out. She pressed the ground with her good arm and stood. “Here, give it to me.” She slipped her hand under the middle of the plastic-encased mess and lifted it quickly to her shoulder.
She blinked twice and gasped, but otherwise made no sound as the ice cream dispersed—most of it down the front of the neckline of her singlet-top blouse, the remainder down her back.
Watching Rose’s face darken, Linton asked, “Are you feeling any better?” He dried his hands on a tea towel as he strode to the staff exit and into the dining area. “Be back in a minute,” he said to Rose. Chucking the cloth to the floor, he used it to wipe his shoes dry before entering the customer’s side of the counter.
“We have unfinished business, Bruno. Shall we step outside?”
37
“Fine by me if you sort it out here.” Jim moved the tomato sauce and vinegar off the counter.
“Do we have to?” Bruno released Minnie’s hand “Look, I’m a stupid dolt sometimes, and I know it.” He straightened up to his full height, towering a head and a half taller than Linton. “Miss Minnie,” he nodded to the young woman, “Mrs Rose, I owe you both an apology. I am sorry.”
“You hurt Rose last time we were in here, Bruno,” Linton said. “Do you think that apology is enough?”
“I had a lot of steam to get rid of. I didn’t know how to do that proper,” Bruno said. “Not good with people.”
“Well, you’ve got to try, Bruno,” Jim said. “I’ve seen you charge at people like an oversized, enraged pit bull. There’s no stopping you when you get angry.”
Bruno looked at his feet and nodded his head. “I don’t want to be angry all the time. I don’t want to fight.”
Jim put the vinegar and tomato sauce back on the countertop. “Well, you have to control your behaviour, or you’ll end up in jail.”
“I reckon that’s where I learned it.”
Linton pulled out a chair and motioned to Bruno to sit. “How long were you in for?”
“All my life—I guess.”
Rose poured two coffees and passed them over the counter. Minnie went through the service entry and carried the mugs to Linton and Bruno.
“Thanks, Minnie,” Linton said.
Bruno nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Your shoulders look to be as powerful as an ox.” Linton eyed the man. “Surely you couldn’t have built up that strength from being inside all your life.”
“Grew up in an orphanage till I ran away. Put into a home for delinquent boys when I got caught. Ran away from that and got put into prison.”
“What?” Rose said. “For running away?”
“Maybe for running away from the cops after I threw the brick through the shop window.”
“So, what do you do when you’re out of prison, besides being overenthusiastic and uncouth when trying to chat up women and using those hands of yours like a lethal weapon?”
“So sorry about that.” Bruno bowed his head. “Been trying to get work—but no one will give me a job.”
“Can’t say I blame them,” Jim called out from where he leaned over the counter listening.
“What work did you do in the prison?” Linton asked. “What skills can you offer an employer?”
“I’m good with trucks.” Bruno’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “I can show you and your lady friend I mean it that I’m sorry by giving your truck a safety check.”
“And your old bus—I couldn’t help noticing she’s ancient.” Linton sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “She’s roadworthy?”
“You bet.”
“And what are your plans, Bruno?” Linton asked. “As Jim quite rightly says, you can’t go on like this.”
“Well, I could go away from here—because I don’t rightly think I could put a brick through Jim’s window now. Not after getting to know him like.”
Rose shook her head. “You’d be a fool. You’d just get caught again and go—”
“That’d be the idea, miss.” Bruno looked apologetically at her. “See, I’m useful in there.”
“He could be useful here, Mr Mears.” Minnie tried her doe-eyed expression out on her employer.
“No darn way,” Jim said. “And that’s final.”
Linton stood and stretched, looking steadily at both Jim Mears and Bruno. “Let’s all talk some more about this in the morning, shall we?” His eyes went to Rose.
She gazed back, admiration in her eyes, making his heart beat faster.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Linton said meeting Rose’s eyes, “…but I’m dead tired.”
“Me too,” Rose said and removed the melted ice cream–covered apron and dropped it into the sink. “Good night, Bruno. Please don’t leave before seeing what Linton and Mr Mears can organise to help you find work.”
“Thank you, Miss Rose.”
“Rose.”
“Thank you, Rose,” Bruno said.
Rose and Linton walked arm in arm across the open driveway back to their motorhome.
“How is your shoulder?”
“Sticky. How is your eye?”
“It needs vanilla dessert.” Linton bent and licked Rose’s neck.
“You are as vulgar as Bruno is, Mr Fife.” Rose laughed. “Anyhow, don’t they put raw steak on black eyes?”
“I think that’s a myth.” He squeezed her hand. “Tell me honestly, Rose, are you disappointed with me tonight?”
“What on earth do you mean?”
“Well, I went out to beat an apology out of a man, and I’m the one who got slugged, and I never even fought back.”
Rose squeezed Linton’s hand. “I got my apology, and it was a lovely one.”
“Yes, but he offered it freely. I never got to make him do it.”
“Wasn’t that the best sort of apology, one the man offered freely, not one that Bruno felt forced to give? This way I know that he meant it.”
Inside the motorhome they took a short, steamy shower together, then lay in bed making plans while Linton held a cold, damp facecloth over Rose’s shoulder, and she held one over his swollen eye.
“And you are truly not disappointed that I didn’t tear up Mear’s place and a man twice my size to defend your honour?”
Rose grinned. “A little bigger than you—”
“A giant beast of a werewolf he was.” Linton feigned indignation. “I’d have slain him single handed just for you if you hadn’t weakened and served him coffee.”
“I weakened?” She laughed. “Am I disappointed that you’re not lying beside me with broken ribs and blood gushing out of you? Well, heck, no.” She slapped his chest with the face flannel. “Am I disappointed that I’m not bailing you out of jail on a charge of assault? What sort of a woma
n do you take me for?” She slipped out of the bed. “I’ll run the water cold again and change these.”
“Three times now I’ve had a chance to prove myself a man to you, Rose.” Linton parted his lips in a silent sigh.
She slid into bed beside him and handed him the flannel to hold on her shoulder. He lay his head back on the pillow, his eyes closed. She gently placed the cold cloth over his darkened, closed-over and intensely swollen eye.
“Three times now I’ve let you down,” Linton mumbled.
“Do you honestly think that after the way I was bullied into marrying someone I had not the remotest interest in that I would somehow now find myself attracted to a bully type who thinks he can settle scores by making threats?”
“I guess not.”
“If we are playing the blame game…” Rose folded her arms in front of her, “…well, you know my feelings. I blame NASA for putting up an object into space before they designed the technology to bring it down safely. The epilepsy event you had is directly linked to your truck accident caused by Skylab’s descent. I don’t blame you, and I’d not love a bully.”
“And tonight I went to…” Linton shook his head. “I’m not certain what I was prepared to do, aside from making him apologise to you.”
“And you ended up acting like a friend and listening to his concerns.” Rose leaned forward an inch to kiss Linton’s cheek. “I think I’m so lucky to have such an incredible man. Now try to go to sleep, Linton. We might not hurt so much when we wake.”
“What? We aren’t going to make wild, passionate love?”
The face flannel struck his chest. Chuckling, he took it from her. “My turn to run the tap cold and refresh these.”
When he returned, Rose was lying on her back, her eyes confirming her earlier expressed words; she was far from disappointed with him.
“Would you like a sheet over you?”
“No, it’s a hot night. I just want to look at you.”
He lay close to her, on his side, facing her with his bruised eye uppermost. Rose rested the cloth on the bruise.
