Heart Of The Outback, Volume 2

by Margaret Way

  “Now, Jodie, you made no mention of a hot farmer.” By the smile in her eyes Jodie knew that her understanding outweighed her sadness. Jodie could have hugged her.

  “I had to tell the others you’d fallen ill,” Lisa said, not nearly as impressed with Jodie’s antics as Mandy. “With megalomania. And since none of them even knew what the word meant we figured you had made the right decision to leave. So, when’s the big day?”

  Jodie flapped a hand at her unmoved friend. “Don’t be silly. Heath is the last one I would choose.”

  Mandy stopped with a hunk of cheese halfway to her mouth and Jodie knew she had laid it on too thick.

  “Okay, maybe not the last one. Scott from across the hall would beat him to that title by a whisker.”

  “Time is marching on. And if hot farm boy is only good for a one-night-on-the-town fling,” Mandy said, “who the heck is going to be the lucky Mr Jodie Simpson?”

  Jodie struggled to remember any of the candidates she had met before Heath had walked in the door, but they were mostly a blur.

  It didn’t help that she still felt Heath all around her. The scent of his aftershave lingered on her hair as the night before he had used her wrap as a prop when he’d been doing an impersonation of one of his four sisters. She could still taste sweet chilli sauce on her tongue from the kebab they had shared. And every time she closed her eyes, she could see Heath’s crinkly eyes and smiling, tanned face imprinted there.

  “Umm, maybe Barnaby, the visual merchandiser,” she said, plucking a name from the furthest recesses of her mind.

  “He would be willing to marry me for rent-free accommodation here. Apparently his favourite gay bar is just around the corner.”

  “So why didn’t you run away with him?” Louise asked, and Jodie no longer felt like hugging her clever sister.

  Mandy grinned at Louise. “She makes a good point.”

  “I … I’d had enough by the time Heath came along. If I had to ask one more guy to tell me about himself, I was going to drown myself in a whole bottle of red wine.”

  “Oh, balderdash,” Lisa said. “You fell over when I brought Heath to your table, Jodes.”

  “My foot had fallen asleep,” she argued.

  “Please! No part of a woman’s body could possibly sleep through that. He was gorgeous.” This time Lisa got the full-stare treatment from all three girls. “Well, he was.”

  Jodie raked both hands through her hair. “Okay. Fine. He was gorgeous. But he comes from a family of seven. After growing up in the middle of London with my crazy mother my only known relative, I’ve only just discovered I have a half-sister.”

  Jodie glanced at Louise, who smiled warmly back. Okay, so hugging was back on the family agenda.

  “Besides which,” Jodie continued, “he lives on a farm, and I live here. And I want to stay here. And he wants …” She wasn’t really sure what he wanted. They had never really discussed it; they had both had too much of a nice time specifically not talking specifics.

  “What does he want?” Lisa asked.

  “What he deserves is the real deal.”

  Mandy shook her head in utter confusion, while Lisa looked at her with too much understanding for Jodie’s comfort.

  “So what next?” Lisa asked, kindly pinning the attention elsewhere. “Do we tell Barnaby the gay visual merchandiser the happy news?”

  Somehow Jodie couldn’t rouse any excitement for the idea. “Maybe not just yet.”

  “Right. That’s the spirit!” Mandy ran to the desk in the corner and clicked on the Internet connection. “Let’s first see what new men the night has brought us.”

  Though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Jodie moved to look over Mandy’s shoulder. And, oh, what choices she had! A lawyer with three teenaged children, a baker looking for a morning person, and a guy who had been on the dole for eight years while he ran a campaign to legalise marijuana in his “spare time”.

  Time was running out. The calendar above the computer with its bright red crosses showed how little time she did have until The Day She Had To Leave. That decided it for her—she would choose by the end of that day.

  Barnaby, Scott, or Heath.

  For Heath was still on the maybe list whether she admitted it to the girls or not.

  After driving her home the night before, he had walked her to the front door of her apartment building. Shadows and moonlight had slanted across his strong face as they had stood facing one another beneath the ivy-trellised alcove. Her skin still tingled from the feel of his smooth cheek against hers as he had kissed her goodnight.

  “Can I see you again?” he had asked, his deep voice washing over her.

  Jodie’s cheeks flushed pink as she remembered the moment the romantic young girl she had once been before life had beaten her down, the young girl who had spent many a night wishing on the first star, had risen up and answered him with, “I would like that.”

  The phone rang and, saved by the bell, Jodie leapt for it so fast the phone flew out of her hand. It took some world-class juggling to make sure it didn’t fall.

  “Who-yello!” she said when she pulled it to her ear.

  “Jodie.”

  She knew that voice in an instant. Heath. The deep vibrations tickled through her hand, down her arm and into her stomach.

  “Oh,” she gasped. “Hi. Hang on a sec, will you?”

  She shoved a hand over the mouthpiece and climbed over the back of the couch. “It’s for me. I’ll take it while I’m having a bath. Two birds with one stone and all that. So save me some Brie. Right? Okay.”

  She ran into the bathroom, cringing at the mixed looks of bewilderment and perception on her friends” faces.

  “Heath. I’m back,” she said once she had closed the door and heard the girls” voices start up in conversation.

  “And bathing, I hear.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, feeling her cheeks pink. “Not yet. Fully clothed over here.”

  “Pity,” he said, taking his time to let the word go.

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again. So soon,” she added belatedly.

  “Well, I do have to be home again in four hours,” Heath said, “so I thought it best to spend my short time here wisely. Asking you to have morning tea with me feels like the wisest move I’ve made in a long time. A kind of reciprocation for the two-a.m. kebab.”

  To block out her conversation, Jodie sat on the edge of the bath and turned on the old taps before pouring in excessive amounts of strawberry bath bubbles. She breathed in deep through her nose as she tried to decide what to do.

  On the up side, she and Heath got on well. Ridiculously well. And that was important. What use would it be wasting two years of her life living with someone who drove her around the bend?

  But on the down side, Heath Jameson was also charming and way too attractive for comfort. And for that exact reason she ought not to take it any further. She wanted a two-year husband, not a boyfriend. These next two years would be instrumental in her continued self-discovery, and she could not possibly achieve that if her time was spent with someone to whom she felt connected. For Jodie was a woman who had never learnt how to sever connections, no matter how self-destructive they might be.

  “So?” he finally asked when she had stalled too long. “Are you up for it? Has the kebab digested enough that it’s time for a refill?”

  Jodie slid her back further down the wall until her knees were level with her nose. Her stomach did feel empty, hollow, and tingling, but that was only half the reason she gave in and said, “Yeah, I’m up for it.”

  She gave in because she had to let him off the hook face to face. He was worthy of that.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up in fifteen,” he said.

  He was gone before Jodie had the chance to explain to him that she would meet him downstairs. There was no way she was going to let the girls know that she was seeing him again. It was bad enough that she knew that she was fast becoming enchanted by the guy
. If they had any inkling, they might just try to talk her out of letting him go.

  Fourteen minutes later, bathed and dressed in track pants, a white T-shirt and sneakers, Jodie sidled out into the kitchen.

  “Brunch is ready,” Louise said, waving a French stick and a round of Brie at her.

  “Not for me.” She placed the phone casually back on the cradle.

  Lisa took one look at her garb and lifted two shocked eyebrows. “Going jogging, are we?”

  “A walk, at least. I’m feeling the need to exercise away all those bread rolls and red wine I’ve ingested over the last two weeks.”

  “Bread doesn’t make you fat,” Mandy insisted, biting down onto a piece of bread smothered in soft cheese. “It’s all in your head. Think thin and you’ll be thin. Jogging is for suckers.”

  They all turned to glare at naturally stick-thin Mandy who had no idea how good she had it.

  “Well, this sucker will be back in a while.” With a quick wave over her shoulder, Jodie slipped out the door and ran down the three flights of stairs just as Heath reached the front alcove where they had said their moonlight goodbyes only hours before.

  “Hi! Don’t! I’m here!” she cried out, so that he wouldn’t reach for the doorbell. The poor guy flinched.

  “So you are,” he said. “And all in a rush to see me.”

  Jodie opened her mouth to negate that idea, but then realised it was probably easier to let it lie. “Hungry, remember?” she said.

  Tugging a cute pink cardigan over her T-shirt to dress up her outfit just a tad, she took the opportunity to find out if he really was as attractive as she had remembered him. Lo and behold, in the harsh light of day, Heath Jameson—in chinos and blue and cream Hawaiian shirt that set off his eyes, his tan, and his general gorgeousness beautifully—was pure masculine heaven. Ouch!

  “Ready?” he asked, and then he smiled, his face coming over all warm and encouraging, and Jodie had to abstain from leaning against him just to soak up some of that Australian warmth that Louise had begun to notice in her.

  “So, where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “To heights of gastronomic pleasure the likes of which you have never seen.”

  Heath drove from Jodie’s apartment back towards his beach-side St Kilda hotel, stealing glances at the woman in the passenger seat of his car.

  He had spent a good portion of his morning wondering if his great first impression of Jodie had been falsely remembered. In the light of their secret tryst out into the Melbourne night, her side-splitting tales of her time at the hands of her meddling housemates, and with the addition of a truly fantastic kebab to finish off the night, he thought perhaps he had been so hoping for it to be perfect that he had indeed willed it to be the best blind date any guy had ever known.

  But as Jodie had leapt through the doorway like a whirlwind of nervous energy just now, madly pulling her auburn waves into a quick pony-tail, flapping that bright pink cardigan at him like a flag at a bull, her wide green eyes wild with panic as he reached for the doorbell—obviously because she didn’t want her roommates to know what she was up to—he knew his concerns had been unfounded.

  She was bright. Complicated. Nervous as an unbroken colt. Utterly lovely. And she smelled so good he had to remind himself to breathe out as well as in.

  Last night he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, some lingering sweetness that played with his senses. But this morning it came to him like the subtle scent of grass after a storm. Strawberries.

  As he pulled his car into a park on the St Kilda Esplanade, just near a row of white-sailed market stalls, he shot a look her way.

  Something in her demeanour had him thinking she was preparing to give him the brush-off, but he wasn’t having any of it. He was struck by her. Truly struck. And a risk was not a risk if the path to your goal was clear.

  And since he didn’t believe a word of her claim that she hated desserts as much as she said she did, he took her to the one place in Melbourne that would tempt her to change her mind.

  If anything could.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WITHIN minutes, the French pastry shops on Acland Street in St Kilda loomed. Jodie had heard rumours of such a place and had quite purposely never been down this road.

  Ten-foot-high windows each showcased a dozen shelves packed with melting moments, glimmering fruit tarts, decadent éclairs and every sweet delight a person could crave. Like someone trapped in the desert for ten years, Jodie was drawn towards the mirage, her tastebuds going into overdrive as long-ago memories tickled at her senses.

  The feel of pastry melting on her tongue. Sherbet crackling against her lips. And chocolate. Oh, the heavenly melting sensation that was chocolate.

  The truth was, Jodie loved desserts, but her mother was diabetic, and corruptibly so. Patricia was so lacking in willpower Jodie had once found her passed out on the kitchen table with an empty bottle of chocolate syrup beside her. Since that day, Jodie had doggedly trained herself to live without the taste of sugar.

  “Come on, order something sweet,” Heath offered. “Anything you like. It’s on me.”

  Jodie perused the glassed-in rows of cakes and was stoic. Even though Patricia was nowhere in sight, it was a testament to her own continuing will-power, her very difference from her imprudent mother, that she do without.

  “Tea, black, no sugar, and a savoury scroll.”

  “Come on! This place is the Mecca for dessert lovers. It’s legendary. You can’t possibly be telling me that there is nothing sweet here that can tempt you.”

  Oh, yeah. There sure was. Which was why she was being a good strong girl and ordering something not decadent in the least. “Sorry. I am a tea and scroll kind of girl.”

  His eyes narrowed and she realised her words had held a tinge of bitterness she had not meant to reveal. She smiled inanely and moved inside to the counter where she placed her order.

  “Add two chocolate croissants and a tall black to the order. Three sugars and a small jug of milk on the side. Ta,” Heath said from somewhere behind her, his breath washing over the back of her hair. “Don’t panic, both croissants are for me. One’s for the road.”

  He reached around her with a twenty-dollar note and Jodie moved ever so slightly to avoid the brush of his arm against hers. But she wasn’t quick enough to avoid the divine feel of his hand against her back as he led her to a table outside.

  “So when do you have to be home?” she asked. Tell me you have to go in five minutes and I will be so very very thankful!

  He didn’t even look at his battered watch. “Before dark. I have cattle going to market tomorrow and so tonight will be my last chance to inspect them.”

  She nodded, though she hadn’t a clue what he had just said. She had been too focussed on the crooked smile that lay about his mouth with such ease. Her will-power had kept her from chocolate, pastries, and whipped cream for nigh on ten years. She had done without sugar. She could do without him. And it was past time to let him know.

  “Heath.” Her voice quavered, so she coughed discreetly into her closed fist.

  “Ye-es,” he said, his voice low and deep as though he knew her next words would be weighty.

  “I know we didn’t exactly hit on this last night, but I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I did not meet with you last night, looking for a date, but for a husband in a hurry, as it were.”

  He blinked. Once. Twice. Then he leant his chin on his fist. “Right,” he said, waiting for her to go on.

  “So, why are you still here?”

  Though she ached to look away, at the ceiling, at her fingernails, anywhere but at those bright blue eyes, she didn’t. It felt like one of those moments in life, like when you get your final exam results at the end of school, or when your mum tells you that the man who brought you up until he left in the middle of the night when you were thirteen years old might not even be your father. It was one of those clincher moments that changed everything before
and everything to come depending on the answer.

  “I came because a couple of weeks ago an old … friend of mine died,” he finally said. “Her name was Marissa.”

  Jodie’s breath locked in her lungs. Of all the reasons she could have imagined, that would not have been one of them.

  Heath flaked pieces of pastry from his croissant and laid them in a neat pile on his plate as he spoke. “We knew one another in college. Several years later she married my brother Cameron. They had to overcome a fair bit of flak to be together, but we all came to see that they were made for one another.”

  Jodie could hear the care he was taking in choosing his words, and she knew he was holding back. Pain? Details? Something deeper?

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice husky as she absorbed the unexpected emotion unwinding from within this seemingly perfectly content man. Maybe he wasn’t so content after all. Maybe he had met with her as he was searching for some way to fix his life too.

  “Two and a half weeks ago Marissa was in her station wagon, on her way to pick up the kids from day-care, when she was sideswiped by a guy running a red light.”

  Jodie reached out to lay a hand over Heath’s but pulled away at the last second when she saw how white his knuckles had become. He noticed, and a small grimace crossed his face.

  “I realised at that moment that I had never even come close to having what they had,” Heath continued. “And it felt like I was copping out by not trying to find out if I even could. Marissa and Cameron showed me that the greatest rewards in life only come from taking the greatest risks. And I decided it’s time I take the leap.”

  Jodie knew how that felt. It felt as if she were standing on a precipice, looking out to the horizon, not sure if her next step would land on solid ground or slip away beneath her for ever. Leaping would sure solve that tension. The bite of savoury scroll suddenly tasted bitter in Jodie’s mouth. So much so, she had to reach up with her paper napkin and casually remove the lump.

  He looked back at her, his blue eyes dark and intense. “I am past the age of finding myself another college sweetheart. Working on a cattle station I’m surrounded by men day in and day out and I don’t have the luxury of dating around, finding a woman I like, and wooing her. But now I don’t have to worry about all that.”