Jeddah leaned across the table and squeezed their mother’s shoulder. “Mum’s right, you know. You don’t have to put up with him just to stay here.”
Abi pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced his way. “I should be able to manage. It-it’s only for a few days.”
It was just the slightest of hesitations in an otherwise-perfect performance. Jeddah’s eyes darted to him as Kira’s eyes narrowed. His mother hid a smile behind the napkin she used to dab her eyes, and the rest of his family carried on as if nothing had happened. But they’d picked it up, and by the way Abi wouldn’t meet his gaze, she’d also realized her tell.
So even after Abi had endured the heat, tasted the dust, and survived meeting his family, he was still in with a shot.
His mother casually laid her napkin onto her lap before regarding Abi. “So, you’re a teacher?”
His mother knew damned well Abi was a teacher, but the subtle softening of her tone confirmed she was up to something.
Abi jumped at the chance for a distraction. “Nine- and ten-year-old monsters who’ve probably already taken my replacement hostage and are demanding a candy ransom for her release.” She shrugged. “I know it’s crazy, but I miss them already.”
He’d figured out just how much she missed her kids during the endless stories she’d retold on the plane, but only after she’d introduced him to the bitch growing inside her head had he truly understood the longing he’d glimpsed whenever she’d spoken about Andy, her little Iron Man and his band of tiny Avengers. She hadn’t just said good-bye to her class for a few weeks. There was a very real possibility she may never see them again.
His mother leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Seeing as you’re so hell-bent on paying your own way during your stay and that you’re probably the only fully qualified teacher within a thousand square kilometers, I think we may be able to come to some sort of agreement.”
Abi straightened in her chair. “What did you have in mind?”
He was wising up to his mother’s plan when Jeddah stuck her well-meaning nose in and grabbed their mother’s arm. “Oh no you don’t, Abi’s on holiday. The last thing she wants to do is help you wrangle those evil little creatures.”
If he’d been sitting anywhere near his oldest sister, he’d have kicked her under the table, but despite Jeddah’s intervention his mother’s words had scored a direct hit.
Abi shot him a victorious smile before turning back to his mother. “Keep going.”
He almost felt sorry for Abi, but he was a selfish bastard and getting desperate. He’d spent most of the drive from Brisbane letting her know there was no way in hell she was paying for anything. After handing him his balls, she’d made it perfectly clear that if he wasn’t accepting her money, she’d damn well work off her room and board. He’d immediately agreed, only to have her twig to where his brain and groin had drifted off to and handed him another butt kicking. His mother’s evil plan wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind to keep her hanging around, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Don’t do it. You’d be better off helping me dig out the watering trough. They’ll eat you alive.” A chorus of warnings rang out around the table, but Abi didn’t seem the least bit fazed, if anything, her triumphant smile grew wider.
His mother waved away his siblings before capturing Abi’s hand. “We’ll be getting a lot of stockwomen and men arriving to help with the muster any day now. To help the mums and dads out I run classes for their kids over the dry season. The families get to stay together, the kids get to unplug from the interwebs for a while and learn about real life while not missing out on school, and we get all the help we need. It’s a win-win for everybody.”
Jarrah sighed and hitched a thumb at their mother. “And Mum gets to enlighten the kids on everything the white man’s textbooks have never known or conveniently forgotten while turning another generation into hunters and gatherers.”
Abi couldn’t have been more enthralled. She practically crawled onto the table in her desperation to learn more about his mother’s makeshift bush classroom. “You cover indigenous history and culture?”
His mother looked equal parts excited and proud. “Everything from Dreamtime through to bush tucker. With a bit of reading, writing, and arithmetic thrown in to keep the Department of Education happy.”
His mother leaned forward and extended her hand. “So, Ms. Williams, can you see yourself helping out a tired, frail old woman while my son shows you around our ancestors’ backyard?”
Chapter Seventeen
Photos of all shapes and sizes covered every spare inch of the Big House’s corridor like time-traveling wallpaper. Abi had escaped the mayhem of dinner for the sanctuary of the bathroom five minutes ago but had been stopped dead by the endless walls of memories. She’d glimpsed the photos when Naya had half escorted, half dragged her through the house, but Ryder’s mother had been too excited to show Abi around for her to have more than a cursory glance.
She massaged her aching temples and silently cursed Doris. Who’d have thought eating, talking, and laughing could cause so much pain, or had it been the crash course in Aussie that had upset the evil bitch? Big House instead of farmhouse, stockmen instead of cowboys, utes instead of pickups, jillaroos, jackaroos, sheilas, bogans, yobbos, dead dingo’s dongers, dead horses… She was going to need a week just to get her head around what the hell her hosts were talking about half the time.
She moved down the corridor and pulled up in front of a photo showing Naya mounted on a magnificent chestnut horse chasing after a runaway steer across the desert at full gallop. Ryder’s mom stood in the stirrups with her hat clutched in her hand and waving above her head. Her long silver hair flowed behind her like a comet’s tail, and a smile as bright as the outback sun consumed her face. Tired and frail old woman, my ass.
Naya was about as tired and frail as a wolverine and twice as cunning. Abi had been played, but she still couldn’t wipe the smile off her face despite the party Doris was throwing inside her head.
As soon as Wingarra had emerged out of the desert like a dream, she’d known a few days were never going to be enough to explore the paradise Ryder had stolen her away to. And that had been before she’d met his crazy, bickering, loving family. Only now she could stay without feeling like such a selfish, freeloading user.
She shifted to a photo showing the entire Harper clan crowded together on the steps of the Big House’s veranda. Ryder must have only been in his early teens, because his father hugged Naya and smiled into the camera like a man who had everything he’d ever wanted. Ryder’s dad was tall, lean, blond, and tanned, and if it hadn’t been for the unmistakable outback dust at his feet, he could’ve been a surfer sitting on the steps of a sprawling California beach house.
She made her way down the corridor and paused in front of a more recent photo of the Harper clan scattered among the dozens of portraits and group shots capturing the visitors who’d called Wingarra home. She brushed her fingers over the glass and wiped away the fine dust that seemed to settle on everything.
Shield, Guardian, Fire, Peacemaker, Warrior, and Sunshine, Christ, she’d just had dinner with the outback Avengers. She stiffened and lowered her hand. She’d been too preoccupied with the joyous chaos swirling around her to notice, but she’d just lived the raucous family get-together she’d dreamed of when she and Olivia had been eating two-minute noodles and watching cheesy sitcoms in a desperate attempt to escape the lonely and terrifying reality of their lives. When she’d boarded the plane at LAX two days ago, she’d had no idea what she hoped to find on her adventure, but without even realizing it she’d found herself exactly where she wanted and needed to be. Maybe karma was finally cutting her some slack.
She turned and smiled at the deafening screams and laughter echoing down the corridor. How long had it been since she’d heard those simple pleasures? She started to chuckle and almost fell flat on her butt as Doris shrieked and stomped on her brain. She steadied h
erself against the wall and tried not to think about the painkillers stashed in her backpack.
Olivia had given her enough Vicodin and OxyContin to knock out a water buffalo. But along with numbing her head, her sister’s happy pills would also turn her into a shambling zombie, and the last thing she was doing was missing a second of this crazy adventure. The breath she’d been using to focus her mind gushed out as her gaze settled on a photo of Ryder and Naya in front of what looked like a hospital.
“Come this May I’ll have been in remission five years.”
Abi flinched and spun toward the sultry voice that had wrenched her out of the thoughts ricocheting inside her throbbing head to find Naya leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Abi glanced back at the image and struggled to match the gaunt, bald woman cradled in Ryder’s arms with the healthy, vibrant vision studying her with a mixture of concern, curiosity, and understanding.
Naya drifted toward her with strides as graceful as they were powerful. “The bitch got my left breast nine years ago. Five years ago she took my right and most of my lymph glands, but I killed her before she got the rest of me.”
“I-I’m so sorry.”
The words were so inadequate, so useless. Abi opened her mouth to add something more profound, but her brain could only produce a pathetic sigh that dribbled from her mouth and dripped onto the floor.
Naya smiled and waved her words away before running her fingertips over the image of her son. Ryder was dressed in fatigues and smiling into the camera as he hugged his mother. “He deployed to Afghanistan for the fourth time that afternoon.”
Abi laid a hand on Naya’s shoulder and squeezed. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”
Naya turned and nodded to her head. “I prayed you were just covering up a really bad hair day, but there’s a nagging ache in my gut telling me you know exactly what I went through.”
In the hours she’d shared with Ryder’s family this was the first time anyone had paid any attention to her head. “I was wondering why I hadn’t caught anyone sneaking a peek.”
Naya chuckled and pointed to the Fuck Cancer stenciled onto the T-shirt she wore in the photo. “The kids got me that for my first chemo session. I wore the same T-shirt fifteen months later when my oncologist confirmed she couldn’t find any trace of the tumors.” Naya straightened the already perfectly plumb frame. “By the time I walked out of that damned hospital, we barely noticed who had hair and who didn’t.”
When Abi hadn’t been sneaking glances at Ryder, laughing until she’d almost wet herself, or shoveling food into her mouth, she’d been wracking her brain for the best way to tell the people who’d treated her as if she was just a normal tourist on holiday that she was about as far away from normal as a girl could get. She’d known them only a few hours, she shouldn’t have cared what they thought, but she did because they mattered to him. “Glioblastoma in my temporal lobe. They’re hoping it’s only a stage two, but they won’t know until they cut me open and poke around.”
Naya simply nodded and continued staring at the photo. “When?”
Now that the truth was out, Abi found it impossible to shift her gaze from the man in fatigues smiling back at her from behind the glass frame. How could he mean so much to her after only two days? How could she have ignored all the warning signs and allowed this insanity to get so out of control? “Five weeks.”
“Chemo and radiation?”
Despite the pounding in her head and the ache in her chest, she couldn’t help chuckling. Only those who’d battled cancer could talk about debilitating treatments as if they were like popping Tylenol. “At least I don’t have to worry about losing my hair.”
Naya sighed and shook her head. “Jesus, honey, you sure don’t stuff around.”
Ryder’s image blurred as tears flooded Abi’s eyes. What the hell had she been thinking coming here? Hadn’t she been greedy and selfish enough? She’d already taken more from him than she could ever repay. And now she was taking from the people he cared about the most. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.”
Naya wrapped her arms around Abi and pulled her into a hug so tight it broke the last of her will. She buried her face in Naya’s hair and hung on. “I-I have no right to dump this on any of you, you’ve been through enough.” The words spluttered from her mouth between muffled sobs. “I-I’m so sorry.”
Naya shushed her and squeezed harder. “Does my son know?”
The concern in Naya’s voice penetrated Abi’s pathetic whimpers and gasps for breath. “I told him this morning.”
The tension in Naya’s torso eased as she leaned away and gazed up at her. “Then you’ve got nothing to apologize for, so stop beating yourself up. My son’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
If she’d only heard the words, she might have believed the lie, but even the moisture clouding her vision couldn’t hide the concern carved into Naya’s features.
Naya cupped Abi’s shoulders. “How long have you been taking care of you and your sister?”
She stared at Naya but couldn’t find the words to make her understand. She and Olivia had taken care of each other. It was the only way they had survived.
“Thought so.” Naya massaged her as if she’d felt the ice water running through her veins and was trying to warm her up. “So how about you cut yourself some slack and let my son look after you for a little while?”
Abi dragged in a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. “I can’t take any more from him. H-he’s already given me so much.”
Naya growled under her breath. “Do you care about him?”
Abi tried escaping Naya’s searching gaze, but it was impossible. “I’ve only known him… I mean it’s only been—”
“Do. You. Care. About. My. Son?” Naya emphasized each word with a gentle shake.
The questions Abi had been ignoring all day crashed down on her. What the hell was happening between them? Was it just lust or something more? Did he feel the same way about her? And if he did, where would she find the courage and strength to break this crazy bond they shared? Because the only certainty in her future was she’d have to leave this incredible man, and the longer she lingered in this fairy tale the harder and more painful confronting her reality would be.
As the pressure to do what was right collided with her aching need for him, the truth escaped her trembling lips. “More than I could have dreamed.”
A relieved grin replaced Naya’s frown. “Well, I guess you’re stuck here then, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you leave until you’re sick of the heat, dust, and inmates in this asylum.”
Abi sniffed. “I made him swear not to try and stop me.”
Naya’s expression turned calculating. “But you didn’t make me promise.” She spun Abi toward the bathroom before she could reply. “Get yourself cleaned up. Dessert’s about to be served and my no-good kids aren’t going to wait long for us.”
When Abi emerged from the bathroom after washing away the evidence of her pity party, Doris had finally turned down the death metal to eleven, and her reddened cheeks were the only remaining signs of her meltdown, but she figured she could blame the Aussie sun and her city-girl skin for that. Naya’s words had gone a long way to loosening the knots Abi had tied herself into, but it was going to take some time to come to terms with the wonderland she’d tumbled into.
She wasn’t surprised to find Naya waiting for her in the corridor. Ryder’s mom stood with one hand clutching her mouth and the other touching a grainy black-and-white image housed in a simple hardwood frame that looked to have been made from the same wood as the floorboards lining the corridor. A young dark woman dressed in a plain white dress stood beside a tall white man in humble work clothes and boots.
An eerie sense of familiarity rippled through her as she pulled up next to Naya and studied the photo. “You were so young.”
Naya sniffed and caressed the image of the man she’d lost all those years ago. “We’d have bee
n married thirty-three years this September.”
Everything Ryder had told her about the man he considered his real father and all the stories she’d heard over the dinner table paled in comparison with the love and loss hidden beneath Naya’s heartbreaking smile. She slid her arm around Naya and pulled her close.
Naya sighed and dropped her head onto Abi’s shoulder. “Not a day goes by I don’t think about him.” She chuckled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Things I took for granted back then mean everything to me now. The way I’d catch him looking at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The warmth and roughness of his huge hand wrapping around mine. How safe he made me feel. He was the first and only man I’ve ever loved.”
The noise from the kitchen swallowed up the last of Naya’s whispered confession. True love. Abi had experienced it with her parents and felt it radiating from the woman leaning against her. “How did you know?”
Naya sniffed before easing out of her embrace. She took one last look at the photo before cupping Abi’s face. “I wasn’t as smart or courageous as you. It took me years to figure out he was the one.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ryder rested his elbows on the warped and splintered railing encircling the Big House’s veranda and inhaled the night. No jet fuel, no gun oil, no moldy fatigues, no fear…the warm, dry breeze carried none of the scents that had clung to him like an invisible fog for so long.
He stared up at the explosions of light puncturing the infinite darkness as cicadas serenaded him with their offerings to the approaching dry season. The Southern Cross glinted like a beacon and welcomed him home. He’d made it back. After a lifetime spent crawling through deserts, dodging shrapnel, and fighting unwinnable wars, he was finally home.
He drew in another deep breath and savored the aromas of roast beef and apple pie lingering in the eucalyptus-soaked air. How long had it been since he’d enjoyed a home-cooked meal without counting down the hours until he had to return to his Sydney headquarters or deploy to some godforsaken hellhole? The frantic visits between missions hadn’t cured his homesickness; they’d only reminded him of what he’d sacrificed in his search for a life beyond the dust. Christ, he’d been such a freaking idiot for waiting so long to return.
Against All Odds (Outback Hearts) Page 19
