by Margaret Way
So why, rather than feeling as if his life was finally under his own control, did he feel as if his stomach were tied in knots?
Jodie hadn’t left him with Esmeralda so she could watch a game of soccer. Something else had spooked her. Something else always spooked her. The pragmatic half of him wanted to keep riding until he had no choice but to sleep out under the stars. But the noble half of him wanted to turn back, to go to her, to be with her.
He had always thought himself excessively good at reading people. Heck, he could read her friends like an open book. Mandy, the loud one, was using noise to cover low self-esteem. Her relationship with that creepy Jake guy only cemented it. And Lisa, the gentle one, had taken so long to warm to him, and to warm to Jodie’s impending marriage, he was certain she was nursing a broken heart and as such she saw the world as though through cracked lenses.
But Jodie? Every second of every day, he had a thoroughly new opinion of her. She could put his teeth on edge, then make his heart race within two blinks of those gorgeous green eyes of hers.
Oh, yeah, it had been weeks now since he had decided on a favourite colour. That exact shade of mottled jade-green that sparkled and glowered back at him by halves was for evermore imprinted on his mind. Green wavering between light and shade. Everything about Jodie bespoke of light and shade. She was luminous, yet had deep dark secrets, and that was what had drawn him to her in the first place.
Eventually, as he’d known deep down he would, he gave in to need and turned Esmeralda back towards home.
Later that afternoon, Jodie sat out on the veranda, her usual one leg hooked up beneath her as she sank into a mound of cotton-drill scatter cushions. The motion of the love seat took her slowly backward and forward as she hunched over a pair of jewellery pliers, a piece of fake mistletoe and a battery-operated flashing red bauble.
Weeks before, after a rather forgettable night of cocktails at The Cave, Mandy had persuaded Louise to get a belly ring as a way to stick it to her stuffed-shirt parents. And when the girls had found out that at age thirty-five it was Louise’s first real act of rebellion, ever, it had become a bit of a running joke. So Jodie was making Louise a flashing mistletoe belly ring for Christmas.
When the last twist of wire slipped into place, she pressed the tiny hidden button in the side and the red bauble began to flash. It made her smile. But if it ever saw the inside of Louise’s navel she would be much surprised.
She sighed lavishly as she looked out over the golden plains, surprised to see that the sun was that much lower than when she had begun. As it always had, working on the precise detail of her finicky work took her away from real life, made her forget every niggling worry that clogged her brain, and helped make the details of her life all the clearer.
And it was clear to her on that hot December day how far away from London she really was. The black cabs and double-decker buses, the tube, Piccadilly Circus and her beloved Chelsea football team all seemed as if they were in another world. Everything down here moved at a slower pace. Work, traffic, relationships. There was no rush. Everything happened in its own good time.
And all she had was time. Two years stretching out like the wide red land in front of her—vast, daunting, and unknown.
Through the red haze she saw a figure on horseback materialising out of the shimmering mirage above the hot, hard, crackled ground. Heath.
Somehow, in the last month, deep, warm, for-ever type feelings for Heath had snuck up on her so slowly she hadn’t even seen them coming. That was why she had become so upset about the fact that he wasn’t even wearing his wedding ring. Not because he didn’t have feelings for her, but because she did have feelings for him.
As Heath came closer she could hear the thud of his horse’s hooves on the hard, dusty ground. She was able to make out his lean form moving loosely and expertly with the cantering movement of the horse. His jeans were now brown with dirt. His worn Akubra hat was pulled low so that she couldn’t make out his eyes. But she didn’t need to see them to know their exact hue.
Jodie felt a sudden urge to leap out of the swing chair and head into the kitchen and what? Make tea? Tidy up? Hide? But there was nowhere to hide. Not physically. But emotionally?
Several minutes later, the porch door creaked, but Jodie knew Heath was near even before she heard him. The cloud of warmth he carried with him everywhere had enveloped her already. And her whole body lit up like a hurricane lamp to his mere presence.
She turned and her hopeless heart slammed against her ribs as she took in the view of jeans, white T-shirt, olive-green V-neck sweater pushed up to the elbows. And Heath. Freshly showered. Still-damp hair showing irregular tracks of his fingers.
His eyes were dark and fathomless in the afternoon light. He looked dangerous. But she knew he was only dangerous to her heart. He moved towards her. She thought again of leaping from the chair and running, but her foot hooked beneath her had fallen asleep.
He placed a cup of tea on the wicker table at her side, then tucked his hand deep into his trouser pocket, the other hand holding a cup of coffee for himself. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“It’s your house.” She knew she was being testy, but she had to keep a distance between them.
“What’s mine is yours, Jodie. I promised you that in our vows and I meant it.”
“Right,” she shot back. “But you never said that what was yours was so ridiculously much! I would feel more comfortable signing a post-nup if you know somebody willing to write one—”
He held out a hand stop her. “Not interested.”
He was too trusting. People weren’t all as nice as he and his lovely family seemed to be. And she didn’t want to be the one to teach him that lesson. People took advantage. People looked out for their own interests first. It was human nature. And he needed to be protected from that. He needed to be protected from her.
“Well, you should be. Really. Don’t think you would hurt my feelings.”
“Jodie. Shut up,” he said, and only then did she hear the frustration in his voice. “It’s not going to happen.”
Of course. He was only following her lead. Her rotten disposition was as obvious as the blinking red light on Louise’s belly ring. She only hoped that her temper had blinded him to all other undercurrents she had unearthed that day.
“What would an immigration officer say if they found out about such a document?” he asked, his blue eyes intense.
Well, that shut her up more than his demand had done. He was right. But she had the feeling that had been a convenient excuse not to engage in such an agreement.
He really, truly did not want to have a pre-nup. The guy was something else—a real, live, honest-to-goodness gentleman. Jodie had thought that her mum must have sold her soul to find the last one of those left on the planet.
Yet somehow she had managed to marry one too. What were the odds that the one man whom she had gone to great lengths to convince to be her husband in name only would turn out to be the most authentic man she would ever be likely to meet?
“Oh, just sit, will you?” she demanded, fluffing a hand at the deep wicker chair in the corner of the porch.
He sat, but in the swinging seat beside her. She moved her tingling foot down to swing beneath her as the chair rocked under his heavier weight.
“Did you finish your exploration?” he asked, resting a casual arm along the back of the long seat.
Jodie leaned forward to get her cup of tea, but more to avoid any unnecessary brush of his arm. “I did, thanks.”
After the second half of the Chelsea game, which they’d lost, Jodie had spent a downhearted couple of hours checking out the rest of the house, taking notes—another family room and two bathrooms upstairs, a pool and huge entertainment area out back, and six bedrooms including the delightful master bedroom downstairs. Complete with en suite, walkthrough robe, and cosy parents” retreat, the master bedroom alone was almost as big as her Melbourne apartment!
And on her adv
entures she had found her luggage and Heath’s all snuggled up together on the floor of the parents” retreat. She had baulked in that moment, wondering what he had meant by it, but then she had decided that in the light of the wedding-ring fiasco it was likely he had put the bags down and forgotten about them.
“I picked out a nice bedroom upstairs,” she said, “though I have put most of my clothes in your wardrobe, and some of my toiletries in your en suite. Just in case anyone goes snooping.”
“So long as we remember it’s all about appearances.”
“Hmm,” she agreed.
“What would you like for dinner?” he asked after a few moments of substantial silence. “I’ll cook,” Jodie insisted.
“But you city girls can’t cook, can you?” Heath asked, a reassuring smile finally lighting his eyes for the first time since he’d sat down. “I was reading about your type in the newspaper the other week. Orange juice for breakfast. Eating out every night.”
“I’ll have you know I can cook anything.”
“Words,” he said, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I think you ought to prove yourself with more than words.”
He twisted on his seat, facing her, but the gorgeous glint in his eyes was nothing compared with the glint of gold at his neck. As Heath had spun around a fine gold chain had slipped from beneath his shirt and now rested against his T-shirt, and on the chain, along with a small medallion, was his wedding ring.
Jodie must have stared for long enough that Heath had to see what the big deal was. He looked down, curled his fingers over the ring, and held it before his eyes.
“It’s a St Christopher medal,” he said, so innocently thinking the medallion was that which had her so entranced. “It was the one thing of Mum’s I specifically asked for after she died. She wore it every day, and I’ve worn it every day since.”
He tucked the ring and medal back beneath his shirt, and then laid his hand over it for a moment as though branding it against his skin.
“While we’re at the Run, and considering the amount of dirt and muck I work in on a daily basis, I thought it best to keep my wedding ring somewhere just as protected.”
“That’s sensible,” was all Jodie could think to say. He was so worried about getting his wedding ring dirty he was protecting it, keeping it safe. It was all Jodie could do not to throw herself into his arms and beg him to forget her two-year deal and make the whole thing real then and there.
But when her wide eyes skittered upwards to his, she realised he was watching her all too closely. An eloquent smile creased the corner of his wide mouth and Jodie leapt to her feet before she did anything stupid.
“So, dinner,” she said. “I saw a pantry with an egg, some on-the-verge-of-overdue cheese, a tin of tuna and breadcrumbs. With that I think I can make you a feast the likes of which you’ve never known.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, standing to join her, towering over her, smiling down at her, giving her soft, uncertain heart perilously fanciful ideas.
She grabbed her jewellery pouch and held it to her thundering chest like a shield. And on shaky legs, she spun and headed for the kitchen without looking back.
CHAPTER NINE
AFTER another week and a half of driving back and forth between the peace of the Run and the mania of dealing with Mandy and Lisa in the city, Heath was bushed.
Every day he and Jodie spent together at the Run, Heath felt sure they were growing closer. And he was happier than he had been in ages, simply knowing she would be there with another amazing jewellery creation to show off when he returned from his days mustering his stock.
But after a tense couple of days in the Melbourne apartment learning more about her city life, and her city friends, watching her eat as much mascarpone as she could stomach, and sleeping on the lumpy couch, he wished he could just shove her into the Jeep and whisk her back home.
It hardly helped his growing aversion to the place that the intercom had just sounded heralding the arrival of Malcolm Cage from the Department of Immigration.
Heath buzzed him up, then turned to find Jodie standing like an ice sculpture in the kitchen, a tea towel wrapped several times around her hand, her already-pale skin drained of all colour. And when she looked at him, her wide green eyes were glittering with panic. When he realised she wasn’t going to do so herself, he spun her to face the kitchen window, and undid the bow of the apron she had worn to keep mess off her new dress. Without protest, she raised her arms so he could tug it over her head.
It felt unbelievably intimate; especially considering this was the first time he had been within touching distance in days. Since that first night at the Run, she had been distant. Deliberately so, he was sure. He wasn’t sure what he had done or said to make her that way, but he hadn’t known any other way to deal with it other than to give her the space she so obviously desired.
But now was not the time for such a display. If she didn’t pull herself together today and at least pretend to have some deeper connection to him than a shared address, her whole grand plan would unravel before her eyes.
Heath reached out and rubbed a hand down her arm, but when she didn’t look around he clenched down on her soft skin and spun her back to face him. “Jodie, look at me.”
Her big green eyes focussed. Barely.
“We are going to be okay. You and me. We are going to be fine. No matter what happens here today I am not going to let them take you away.”
He felt her body relax a very little bit in his arms, so he relaxed his grip to match. He had not meant to hang on so tight, but he felt a very real fear that if he didn’t take care she might very well fly away.
“They would expect us to be nervous,” he said, “no matter how we got to this point. Right?” He nodded, and kept nodding until she did the same.
Her pink tongue dashed out to wet her parched lips and he was undone. After days of walking around on tiptoes for fear of he knew not what, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Before he had the chance to rationalise his decision, he pulled her into his arms and he kissed her.
Her petite body, pressed up against his, brought out the lion in him. He wrapped her up so tight, so warm, and soon the shakes subsided as with a heavenly sigh she kissed him back.
Quicker than he could keep up he was dragged deep into a kiss fraught with desperation. And passion. Her whole body melded to his from their lips to their knees. He knew she was only seeking solace for the upcoming toil they were about to face, but he took his own relief from the kiss all the same.
Before he lost himself completely, Heath pulled away but he kept a hold of her so that she didn’t collapse onto his toes. He so often forgot how small she was. Someone her size only had so much energy with which to fight. He only hoped that in fighting against him all this time she hadn’t lost the will to fight for herself.
A knock came at the door and Heath felt it deep within his ribs. Enfolding her hand in his, and giving it a quick squeeze, Heath opened the front door to find Scott, the girls” odd little neighbour whom he had made such a fool of himself over at the wedding reception, talking animatedly to a man in a suit with a briefcase.
“It’s been—what? three years?” the man was saying. “How the heck have you been?”
“Good, mate,” Scott said. “All aces. But what are you doing here?”
The gentleman pointed over his shoulder, his thumb missing Heath’s nose by a bare foot. “I work in immigration now. Down from Canberra to officiate my first case of visa fraud.”
Scott looked up to see Heath and Jodie standing shoulder to shoulder and his beady eyes grew wide. Oh, no, of all the things that could go wrong, Heath blanched at the thought that this guy of all people, a guy who’d had a crush on his Jodie long before he’d come onto the scene, a guy who knew how he and Jodie had met, might do something to jeopardise this.
“You must be Malcolm Cage,” Heath said, his voice echoing in the small hallway.
Cage turned around,
looking more than a little startled. He must have been all of twenty-one. Neat hair, new suit, and not a wrinkle marring his freshly shaved face. Great.
Heath had been counting on meeting someone who had been there and done that and seen it all before, who would be able to see how deeply he did care for Jodie, for her welfare, for her happiness, no matter the circumstances that had brought them together. But a kid, first time on the job, out to prove himself? That was an unknown entity.
The unknown entity cleared his throat, looked from Heath back to Scott, who was slinking back into his apartment.
“Well, nice to see you, Malcolm,” Scott said. “Stop by for a cuppa if you have time, okay?”
Cage nodded, solemnly, and then turned to Jodie and Heath. Heath tucked Jodie’s hand into the crook of his arm and led the way.
“Go on through to the lounge room,” Heath offered, feeling all asunder.
He drew Jodie into the kitchen, leaning her back against the sink out of sight. He took her face in his palms. “How about you grab us a plate of nibbles and a tray of coffee, okay? Or tea, make us some tea. And only come on in when you are good and ready. I’ll hold down the fort until then, all right?”
She nodded, her body shaking like a leaf. But she took a deep fortifying breath, licked her lips and nodded again.
There she was, his Jodie, delicate as a willow but strong as an oak.
“Okay,” she said, punching the air for good measure. “Shall do.”
More for his own benefit than hers, he planted one last, long, hard kiss on her soft lips, before turning and walking to bond with the man in the lounge, younger even than his youngest brother Caleb.
Jodie stayed in the kitchen listening to the murmur of voices in the other room, but they were too low for her to pick out any words.
When it came to the crunch, she wasn’t sure she could do this. Standing up for others came to her as naturally as breathing, but standing up for herself was proving more difficult. Because she wasn’t entirely sure she even deserved what she was asking for.
