Stepping away from the fence, Matt cast a satisfied look over the new structure. The wooden goat shelter was made up of several different sections. There was a house area with one doorway, and Matt figured that once it was filled with hay the goats would be warm and snug. Attached to the house there was an open deck which was covered by a roof. The roof platform had a railing running around it and was accessible by the four oversized steps. This gave the newly christened goats, Greta and Mabel, something to climb on.
But the fence was an even bigger success, in Matt’s book. Building the new goat house with his mates had given him the confidence to tackle the fence by himself, but he was still pleasantly surprised that he had actually managed it. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t bent the guy at the hardware store’s ear for advice or watched several videos on how to build a fence before he even started. But once he’d got going he’d discovered that not only did he enjoy creating something from scratch, but he also liked the physical aspect of it.
The other upside of manual labour was that his ideas seemed to flow better in the sunlight. He’d been stuck on a scene for two days straight. No matter how many times he rejigged it or rewrote it the damn thing just wouldn’t work. But ever since he’d been working outside, the ideas kept coming, and he was finally able to work the whole thing out. It was an epiphany – out of the blue he realised that he’d been trying to tackle it the wrong way round. When he switched the point of view of the characters, everything fell into place.
But it wasn’t just plot points that flowed freely; other ideas and thoughts had surfaced while he’d worked with the sun warming his back. The more time he spent in White Gum Creek, the more he liked it. He enjoyed company and the feeling of community – like he belonged. In a city it was easy to be anonymous and to become lost in the sheer number of people. Sure, he had his friends, family and favourite haunts, but he couldn’t remember the last time the person at the supermarket checkout had called him by his name. He realised that it was the little things, the things he’d never have thought could possibly be important, that actually were.
Then there was Bec Duprey. He hadn’t purposely thought about her – there had been no conscious effort on his part – but she kept popping up in his mind. He kept thinking about the night at the pub. She’d been uncomfortable and he should have stopped checking her out but he just hadn’t been able to look away. He didn’t exactly know why, but there was something about her that made him want to look, to stare. She obviously couldn’t stand him so why on earth should he be drawn to her? It was all too confusing. Maybe he should shove it in one of his books, then perhaps he’d be able to make some sense of it.
He glanced back at his fence and grinned. It was dead level and didn’t look as if it was going to fall over – which was a bonus. In fact, as he looked at his creation he actually started to believe that maybe it was possible for him to renovate the old place. He went inside to grab his camera. He was going to film a bit of footage of his fabulous new fence to put in this week’s vlog.
The vlog had become important to Matt. That had been a surprise and something he never expected when Jules had first badgered him into it. Not only did he enjoy his weekly chat but he now actively looked forward to it . . . and so, judging by their comments, did his fans. He’d never thought that anyone would bother to watch him, but they did. In the early days he’d just talked about anything that came into his head – well, crap really. Added to that he’d included some stuff about his writing or the craft in general. But as he’d got into the swing of it, the vlog had taken on a life of its own. It had morphed into a mixture of his Alistair Tremayne series, his growing interest in self-sufficiency and eventually his quest for the perfect country cottage.
Interestingly, ever since he’d started there had been a steady incline in his book sales, which was amazing, but as time passed Matt knew that he kept his vlog going for himself. For a long time it had been his only link to the outside world. He was grateful for his fans and their comments, which always reminded him that he wasn’t totally alone.
He knew that he was to blame for part of the isolation that had kept him away from the human race for the best part of a year and a half. After the accident, the guilt and the sense of loss had been almost too much for him to bear. He’d retreated, first in the hospital and then in his apartment. Friends and family had tried at first to support him but he couldn’t deal with the awkward silences and the look of pity in their eyes. The weeks had gone by and Matt’s friends had stopped dropping in. At first he hadn’t even realised, and by the time he’d noticed the distinct absence of humanity, he didn’t care. The only two souls who had been brave enough to attempt to break down his well-constructed walls were Jules and Nathan.
Neither Nathan nor Jules had seemed to care that Matt would barely acknowledge their presence. And finally, after hours of determination and endless small talk that he didn’t respond to, Matt had found his way back. He owed them, he knew that now. Without their persistence, Matt would still be barricaded up in the apartment with ghosts and no desire to live again.
Both Jules and Nathan had encouraged his vlogging. At first it had been a lifeline but now Matt couldn’t imagine his life without it.
Matt picked up his camera and headed back outside. He walked over to the fence, ran his hand through his messy hair in a vain attempt to flatten it, and turned on the camera.
‘Hey everyone – Matt here. Hope you’re all doing well on this fine Tuesday afternoon. You all know that I was going to build a fence – so check out this bad boy.’ Matt turned the camera around and scanned along his newly constructed masterpiece. ‘Pretty good, huh? Now wait till you see my goat house!’
***
Bec threw herself into her work – it was all she could do. In some ways it was the only thing she was able to control. Pathetic? Well, maybe it was. At twenty-five, she thought she’d be able to voice her opinion and fight for what she believed in. The old Bec would have gone toe to toe with her father about how the farm should be run. The old Bec wouldn’t have pulled her punches and would have demanded that he take notice of what she was saying. But that was before her dad had had the accident and Zane Turner had shaken her foundations and made her doubt herself.
The past was the past, but for Bec it still cast a long shadow over the present.
Whenever she felt that she was edging back to her old self, Zane Turner always appeared and knocked her back down again – mentally, anyway. The problem was that she still felt vulnerable, not because she had any feelings for him anymore but because the one and only time she had trusted her heart and had fallen head over heels in love, the whole thing had ended up as a bloody disaster. One of the drawbacks of living in such a small town was that you tended to bump into people – even the ones you wished you’d never see again. And that’s what had happened over the past few years. No matter how much Bec wanted to put Zane Turner behind her and move on with her life, he was always there in the background, reminding her of what a fool she had been.
The only thing she had to be thankful for was that the local gossip mill had never found out what had actually happened. Oh, there had been a lot of speculation, but no one had had the balls to walk up to Bec and actually ask her why White Gum Creek’s golden couple had finished just as it was beginning. Tanya Fletcher had told anyone who would listen what had happened, but generally people dismissed what she was saying – one, because everyone knew that she was jealous of Bec, and two, because Zane had never backed up her story. If she and Zane had been having an affair and he was head over heels in love with Tanya then surely he would have spoken out, they reasoned. At the time, Bec had been tempted to be honest about what Zane had done and what a complete tool he was. But she thought that if she told the truth of how she’d found out that Zane had betrayed her, it would somehow reflect badly on herself. Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true, but it was what she felt. If the town knew how Zane had pulled the wool over her eyes, they would ask how she cou
ldn’t have known what was going on. How could she have been so blind to the situation? On reflection she had decided it was better not to say anything. The only people who knew what had gone down were her mum and dad, Tash and Sally, and they would never say a word.
For her part, Bec now tried to pretend that Zane didn’t exist, which was difficult some days as the far paddock shared a fence line with Cara Downs. She never acknowledged him in the street and basically ignored him whenever they bumped into each other. She’d expected him to take the hint, but each time they met he would grin or wave at her, which made it all the more infuriating.
It was as if he hadn’t done anything wrong – the bastard.
***
A couple of weeks had passed since Bec’s argument with Jack over the tractor. As usual she’d immersed herself fully in the day-to-day jobs of running the farm since then. If she worked hard enough, she didn’t have time to think – which was a good thing.
Bec was in the stock feed shop grabbing some poultry feed one afternoon when Zane cornered her near the display of rakes and jerry cans. Up close she saw that he hadn’t changed. Zane Turner was as still as handsome as when they had been together. His blond hair was bleached from the sun and his skin a golden colour from too many days spent outside. His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her. Once, that look would have sent her heat beating faster, but not anymore – now she felt nothing.
‘Hey, Bec, when are you going to drop the silent treatment?’ Bec took a step to the right in the hope of sliding past him but he moved and blocked her escape.
‘I have nothing to say to you. Now get out of my way.’
‘You can’t hold a grudge this long. It’s not healthy. Look, I understand we didn’t part very well but it was years ago. Can’t we just be civil with each other?’
Bec shook her head. ‘Nope, I don’t think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.’
He reached out and clasped her wrist. ‘Please, Bec, can’t we act like adults and bury the hatchet?’
‘Not unless it’s in your head,’ she answered with a bright smile as she pulled her wrist out of his grasp. It was a childish response but Bec felt a shot of pure satisfaction as she pushed past him and walked towards the shop entrance.
‘Come on, Bec, I’m sorry for how things panned out. You know that you’re going to have to forgive me sometime.’
‘I doubt that very much.’
She had almost made it out of the front door when she collided with something hard. She raised her head and looked straight into Matt Harvey’s eyes. Great. His arms closed around her, whether it was to steady her or stop himself from stumbling, Bec wasn’t sure. The last thing she needed now was to have Matt witness her pathetic attempt to deal with the past.
‘Hey, are you okay?’
Bec nodded as she stepped away. ‘Yes, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to plough you down.’
Matt dropped his hands by his sides before he started to bend down to pick up his walking stick.
‘Oh, let me,’ Bec said as she scooped it up and handed it back to Matt.
‘Thanks . . .’
‘No, it’s fine. It was my fault entirely. One day I’ll learn to watch where I’m going.’ Bec gave him a fleeting smile as she stepped around him and slipped out of the shop. Her intent was to put as much distance between herself and Zane as possible. Heat infused her cheeks as the old wounds opened up and she began to drown in bitterness, betrayal and, above all, embarrassment. Yes, right up to today, to this very minute, Bec was embarrassed and humiliated that she hadn’t seen Zane’s duplicity until it was too late. She’d been a sucker for his good looks and pretty talk, never realising that behind the facade was a calculating individual who was only acting out of self-interest. God, she been totally taken in and had actually believed that he loved her. How stupid was that?
***
‘Bye.’ Matt looked over his shoulder but Bec had already disappeared. With a shake of his head he walked over to Dean at the counter.
‘Hi, was she alright?’
‘Who? Oh, Bec – yeah, I think so. She just hightailed it out of here because she bumped into Zane Turner. You know how it is,’ Dean said in a hushed tone.
‘Oh . . . actually, I don’t,’ Matt answered with a frown. ‘What do you—?’
‘Hey, Dean,’ came a voice behind Matt as a blond man sauntered up to the counter. ‘Listen, have you got any ewe and lamb pellets?’
‘Zane,’ said Dean, nodding at him. ‘No, but I’ve got some coming in. Should be here in the morning.’
‘Great, could you give me a call when the delivery gets here and I’ll swing by.’
‘Not a problem.’
Turner looked over at Matt, as if sizing him up.
‘This is Matt Harvey, he’s just moved in,’ said Dean. ‘We’ve adopted him into our poker evenings. Matt, this is Zane Turner.’
‘Welcome to White Gum Creek. I’m at Cara Downs, just north of the town.’
‘Thanks,’ Matt said as he shook Turner’s outstretched hand. ‘Yeah, I’ve driven past your place – it looks great.’
Zane’s smile widened. ‘It’s the best farm in the whole area. So whereabouts are you living?’
Matt smiled. He bet that if Bec had been here she would have had something to say about that. ‘I’ve got a little cottage on Magpie Lane.’
Turner’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You mean the old white cottage that sits on the edge of Bluestone Ridge?’
‘Yep, that’s it.’
‘Right. So are you just passing through?’
‘No, I mean to stay for quite a while.’
‘Hmmm, I see. Well, I’d better run. See you around, Harvey. Dean.’
Dean gave him a nod and waited until Turner had left the shop before he turned his attention back to Matt.
‘They used to be a couple.’
Matt frowned. Somehow it seemed an odd sort of pairing. Okay, maybe that wasn’t even fair. He had no idea what Zane Turner was like, but the idea that there was history between Zane and Bec didn’t sit that well with him. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, they were an item at school, going to get married and everything. And then about four years ago, just before old man Duprey had his accident, they called off the engagement.’
‘Why did they do that?’
‘Neither of them will say, so we can only speculate. The general theory is that Turner did something stupid and Bec ended it. And Zane does have a habit of doing stupid things.’
‘But you’re not sure.’
Dean shook his head. ‘No, but it must have been something pretty bad for her to break it off so suddenly. It was a shock. The whole town thought that their pairing was inevitable. You know, the two richest families uniting. The marriage would eventually have bound Bluestone Ridge and Turner’s place, Cara Downs, together.’
‘And no one knows why?’ Matt asked.
Dean thought about the question for a second. ‘Knowing Bec, I reckon she probably would have kept things pretty quiet. So the whole episode is just rumour and speculation. People have theories but no one knows for sure.’
‘And I gather that Bec and Turner don’t get on?’
‘He’s willing but Bec hardly acknowledges his existence. It changed her, you know. Oh, she’s still a down-to-earth sort of girl who will tell you what she thinks, but there’s something different about her. And I don’t know if that’s to do with Turner or something else.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I grew up with her. There’s a . . . oh, I don’t know, just a part of her is missing.’ He shifted position and leant on the counter and grinned at Matt. ‘Enough of that. God, I’m one of the first to criticise the rumour mill of this place and here I am spilling the beans just like the best of them.’
‘It’s okay – like I’ve got anyone to tell,’ Matt said. ‘Although I have to say I find it fascinating to see how the town works. Guess it’s the writer in me.’
‘As
long as you don’t go naming names I reckon we’re good. So what brings you in here? I wouldn’t have thought that a stock feed and farm equipment shop was your thing.’
‘Hey, I keep animals.’
‘My friend, I don’t think two goats make you a grazier.’
‘No?’
Dean shook his head and let out a laugh. ‘Not by a long shot. Besides, you may live in the country now but you don’t even own a decent pair of boots, or a hat – or come to think of it, even a dog.’
‘I’m making a mess of living rural, aren’t I?’ Matt said with a laugh.
‘Damn right. Better smarten yourself up, otherwise people will begin to talk.’
***
Zane’s mobile rang as he was walking into the kitchen. His dad was just sitting down at the table for dinner and glanced up at him.
Zane pulled out his phone and frowned – well, this was going to be awkward.
‘Sorry, Dad, start without me – I have to take this,’ he said as he hightailed it out the back door. He answered the phone as he walked, making sure he was well out of earshot.
‘Hi Mum, how are you?’
Zane chatted to his mum for about ten minutes. They talked generally at least once a week, sometimes more, and had done ever since she had left Cara Downs. When Zane was younger he’d tried to hide that fact from his father, because he hated seeing the look of betrayal in his eyes. But as Zane got older he made a point of talking to her. As far as Zane was concerned, whatever had happened in the past and the decisions that had been made were done and dusted. Life went on and no one could stop that.
He went back inside to find his dad cutting into his steak.
‘I waited for a while but I thought it was going to get cold.’
Zane sat down opposite him. ‘It’s okay, I said to start without me.’
Silence lingered over the table longer than it should have.
‘So, I suppose that was your mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Everything alright?’
‘Yeah, she was ringing to see if I was going to make it down next week for little Stacey’s birthday.’
Country Roads Page 7
