Heart Of The Outback, Volume 2

by Margaret Way

  How stupid could she have been not to have seen it earlier? The inciting incident, the lightning bolt that had sent Heath running to the altar had been the death of Marissa. She could still hear the echo of grief in Heath’s words when he’d admitted as much to her way back at the beginning.

  But silly her, when he had said Marissa was an old friend he had known in college, she had assumed he meant “friend”. Heath had joked with Malcolm Cage about not marrying his college girlfriend, and he had told her that Marissa and Cameron had overcome criticism to be together. And when Marissa died, out Heath went and married the first woman he met.

  Not because he was all lonely out on his big farm, and not because he had been looking to shake things up in his life, and not because he had to find out what mascarpone was.

  Jodie swallowed down the sudden bitter taste in her mouth as she finally realised Heath’s real motive for marrying her. She was a blocking mechanism for his loss. He had married her because she was adamant she had no real designs on him emotionally, as emotionally he had nothing to give.

  Oh, why now? she thought, then dug her fingernails into the unforgiving metal until they hurt. Why did this all have to blow up now, right when for the first time in her life she had thought herself ready to risk losing herself and losing her heart?

  But remembering the look in Cameron’s eye when she had promised tea, she knew now was not the time to be selfish. If only she had picked up that one trait from her mother, then she would have been able to move on with her life long before now and she wouldn’t have found herself in the middle of such a grand mess.

  Jodie made as much noise as she could while making the tea to give the men in the room next door the illusion that all was cheery.

  Tea had always done that at home, given a sense of normalcy to any occasion. Social workers banging on your door? Make tea. A doctor come to deliver bad news? Make tea. Tea had served her ably over the years and she had the feeling this was going to be one of those nights where its healing powers would be needed for old and new wounds alike.

  Heath wiped damp hands down the sides of his jeans as he took the five long steps to his brother’s side. He sat at the very edge of the long couch, but close enough so he could reach out and give Cameron’s shoulder a brotherly squeeze. “How have you been, buddy?”

  “Good,” Cameron said, nodding, though Heath could tell he could barely keep his head up.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more. But with Jodie and the wedding and everything.” Heath knew it sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.

  Cameron stopped nodding and buried his taut face in his palms. And then his body began to shake. Heath sat still as a statue as his confident, swaggering, I-can-do-anything-better-than-you brother fell apart.

  He looked to the kitchen where he could hear Jodie making noises with the kettle and the like. But though he knew in his heart Jodie would know the right thing to do, the right thing to say, he couldn’t call on her. He had promised he would never ask her to look out for his concerns, and he had no intention of breaking it or any other promise he had made to her.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” Cameron said with a muffled voice. “I didn’t realise she would be here. Elena said you were dividing your time between Melbourne and the Run, and Elena made it seem like for some reason she would stay there.” He lifted his head, ran two thin hands down his face, wiping away the dampness but not wiping away the sadness.

  “She’s fine, Cam. Anything you have to say you can say in front of her. Jodie’s good people.”

  “But it’s Jodie I’ve come to talk to you about.”

  “What about her?” Heath asked, his hackles rising instantaneously. He drew his hand back into his lap.

  Cameron sniffed, fortifying himself and shaking out his recent crying jag. Then he turned to Heath, his face a mask of pain. “I want you to tell me, to my face, that you have not married this woman as some sort of emotional flinch against Marissa’s death.”

  Suddenly Heath’s hackles were not his biggest problem. As he looked into his brother’s blue eyes, a paler version of his own, he was taken aback that Cameron had had the capacity to come up with such an idea. But above and beyond he felt a deep-seated need to protect the woman at the centre of their conversation.

  “Watch yourself, Cam,” Heath warned, doing his best to keep his palms from turning into fists.

  “It’s not such a stretch, Heath. Elena told me that you only met this girl some time after the funeral, which means you can’t have known her more than a month before you married her. I know she is some sort of unemployed tourist. She might have found you at a low point and taken advantage, using you to stay here, or to get to the family money. How well can you really know her in such a short space of time?”

  Cameron was half so very wrong, and half so very right that Heath had no idea how to answer him. “She has not taken advantage of me in any way, shape or form, Cameron,” he eventually said, “and I thank you not to say such a thing aloud ever again. Not in my house, and not in my hearing, or I just don’t know what I might do.”

  But in his state, Cameron was not to be deterred. “So why haven’t you married before now? Why marry the instant Marissa is finally out of reach for good?”

  Heath was shocked by the bitterness in Cameron’s voice. He had never let on to Cameron how hurt he had been when he and Marissa had declared their intention to marry, but he must have sensed it all the same. But his melancholy had stemmed more from the fact that his favourite brother was growing up and moving away, leaving him alone to the fate that had been thrust upon him.

  Had Cameron been holding onto the fear that his big brother might come a-calling, for all these years? Wow. He had. Heath saw it in Cameron’s face. In his stiff body. In his red eyes. All these years Cameron had half been expecting Heath to blow his lid and take Marissa back. Beside the fact that Marissa would not have had him, it had never once occurred to Heath to even try.

  He’d had a fondness for Marissa, she had been a lovely woman, but she’d had no gumption. No guts. Not like his Jodie. He had never known anyone so plucky. She had more energy and determination in her little finger than could be found in Marissa or a hundred like her.

  But Heath also knew that there was no way he could say all that to his brother. Heath had been fond of Marissa, had been in a way envious of the steadfast relationship she’d had with his brother, but Cameron had loved her.

  Cameron had lost her in a most tragic way, whereas Heath had merely been dumped. And he knew now he should have thanked her for it a long time ago. He ought to have thanked her for making his brother so happy on her wedding day when she had thanked him for being such a good friend. Some friend he was.

  But maybe now was the time to do so, time to thank the one person left to whom it obviously mattered most.

  Once the tea was ready, Jodie put her ear to the door to make sure the time was right. There was no way she wanted to walk into the middle of something personal. She pushed the swing door open a fraction and strained her ear to make sure.

  “Do you really think after all these years that I am still in love with Marissa?” she heard Heath say and she hiccuped in a shocked breath, which she then followed quickly with a hand slapped across her mouth.

  “I really do. Tell me the truth, Heath,” Cameron returned. “I will know if you don’t.”

  There was a pause. A pause that felt as if it lasted a thousand years, as Jodie dared not take breath again until one of the men made a noise. But when she felt another hiccup threatening, she let the door slide shut without making a whisper of noise.

  She hiccuped wretchedly on her way back to the island bench and leant against it for fear she might slide to the ground. The tray of tea with its fine china cups laughed up at her. Soothing? Calming? Fix-all? She fought the urge to wipe the whole bloody lot off the bench and smash it to the floor.

  Instead she grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall and dialled in Mandy’s mobile number.<
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  “Cameron,” Heath said, “would I have stayed, running this place for so long after Mum and Dad died, if I didn’t feel that way? Would I have let Marissa go if it was that important for me to have her in my life? Would you?”

  “No,” Cameron said on a heavy breath. “Neither of us would.”

  Heath shuffled closer to his brother and lay a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You loved her. And she loved you. And now she is gone you don’t need to be muddying her memory. She will be missed, by all of us. But none of us will ever understand what you have gone through without going through such a loss ourselves.”

  Cameron nodded, not even trying to cover up his pain. He sniffed and looked back at Heath, his fierce eyes now toned down to a more sheepish look. “So you and this wild English rose. Are you the real thing?”

  The real thing? Considering the odd circumstances of their meeting? Considering they couldn’t go a day without being at loggerheads? Considering slick young Malcolm Cage of the immigration department could very well hand down an official finding saying otherwise?

  He thought of her often prickly demeanor, her soft warm lips that reacted to him on such a primal level whenever they kissed, and those eyes, those great green pools of energy that lit up her small face when she was happy and gave her away the instant she wasn’t.

  “I don’t know,” Heath said, feeling a little breathless as he let the terrifying truth escape his numb lips. “Maybe. How did you know that Marissa was the one? How did you know she was worth the risk?”

  “In the same way you know when they’re not the one—you just know.” And then Cameron smiled. Not a great smile, but a definite curling of the lips, and Heath felt as though a little ray of sunshine might just have entered his brother’s life for the first time in weeks.

  “Yep?” Mandy answered.

  “Mandy, it’s Jodie.”

  “Jodes! How did you go with the guy from the immigration thingy? Two thumbs up? Have you touched a cow yet?” “Okay. Not sure. And no.”

  “Found any more bedrooms hidden away in spare wings of your mansion?” Mandy asked, and Jodie could tell she was feeling mighty proud of herself. “And did you just hiccup?”

  “No. And yes. And don’t expect Christmas presents from Tiffany’s just yet, Mandy. I think I’ve made a big mistake.”

  She heard Mandy’s feet slide from the coffee-table and hit the floor and knew that she finally had her friend’s attention. “Why? What happened? What’s wrong?”

  Before I even realised he had the power to do so, he’s gone and broken my heart, she thought, rubbing at her aching temple. “Did you ever wonder why he married me, Mandy?”

  “Well …”

  “Come on. You must have. He’s beautiful. And generous. And rich as Midas I found out when he showed me his bank statement before our interview today. Didn’t you think there had to be some big secret hidden reason why a guy like that couldn’t find a wife by normal means by now?”

  “Okay, I wondered. Lisa, Louise and I talked about it a bit. But you seemed so sure and we didn’t want to worry you. Is he … did he lose his old fella in some sort of farm-related accident?”

  “No! Well, I wouldn’t know actually as we haven’t … we won’t be … oh, Mandy, it’s much more sordid and excruciating than that.”

  “Is that possible?”

  Jodie should have realised Mandy would likely think there could be nothing worse. “I think he married me in order to dull the pain of losing the woman he really loved.”

  The end of the line went silent for a few moments before Mandy’s voice came back, low and doubtful. “And who might that be?”

  “His brother’s dead wife.” As soon as she said the words Jodie’s heart clenched so hard in her chest she could barely breathe.

  After a lengthy pause Mandy asked, “Are you sure you aren’t getting your life mixed up with an episode of Lou’s Beach Street?” “Mandy—”

  “Jodie! Heath is prime-cut meat. And of all the women in all the world he could have chosen to marry for whatever deranged reasons you may think he has, he chose you. So jump the guy, for goodness” sake, while he’s yours for the taking. And if it turns out I was right after all, let me know—I have twenty bucks riding on it.”

  Jodie’s hiccups vanished as she choked on the response she wished to give to that remark.

  “Jodie, I’m kidding. Well, I’m not kidding about the twenty. But come on. Not one of us came up with that as motive. We were there at the wedding. We saw the way he looked at you all day. We saw the kiss. Or kisses. The odds on you guys lasting doubled that night and have gone up pretty steadily ever since.”

  “How many of you have a bet going?”

  “Me, Lisa, Jake, Scott, the handsome cab driver from your wedding, half the wait staff at The Cave. I rang Louise the other night to see if she wants in but she refused on principle, though I reckon she could have made herself a tidy fortune as it’s looking like her guess will come up trumps in the end—”

  “Goodbye, Mandy,” she said and this time she hung up. Maybe Mandy was right. Maybe one of the other hundred odd people out there rooting for her was right.

  Only time would tell. And out here in the middle of nowhere, time was all she had.

  Cameron reached out and gave Heath a slap on the back. “Right. Well, I think I’ve stayed long enough. Especially if you and Jodie are maybe for real. I’ll head back to Elena’s for the night.”

  Cameron stood, and Heath with him.

  “Stay,” Heath said. “You know there’s plenty of room.”

  “Nah, I really ought to get back to the kids.”

  “Right. But don’t catch a cab. Take the Jeep. I’ll be fine with just the ute. We’re planning on staying here until Christmas Day as it is. Get Elena to bring it back then, all right?”

  Cameron nodded and headed for the door.

  Heath glanced at the kitchen, which had been eerily quiet for some time. But he thought it best to get Cameron home while he was on an even keel. His brother and his wife could get to know one another better over a pot of tea another time.

  If he had his way, they had all the time in the world.

  Jodie steeled herself, grabbed the tray, and, without making the mistake of listening at the door again, she pushed her way out into the great room.

  But no one was there. When she heard the front door close, she put the tray on the coffee-table and waited for one or both men to return. Heath came in, head down, face clouded with all sorts of emotions.

  “Has Cameron gone?” she asked.

  Heath looked up and took a second to really see her. Boy, did she wish that she had been able to hear the end of that conversation.

  He ran a hand over his face, then across the back of his neck. “Yeah, he’s gone back to Elena’s for the night.”

  “He didn’t have to go,” she insisted.

  “Yeah,” Heath said, watching her carefully through his charged eyes. “Yeah, he did.”

  He moved to the couch, sat, and patted the seat beside him. She joined him on a patch of comfortable red leather.

  Heath poured the tea. “Black, no sugar, right?”

  “Thank goodness you’re a quick learner,” she said.

  His brow furrowed for a moment before he blinked away whatever he was thinking.

  She drank the now-lukewarm tea in one gulp, then, feeling in dire need of a long soak in a tub to wash away her confusion, Jodie made a move to stand, but Heath stopped her with the touch of his hand on her arm.

  “Why do you really want to stay here so badly, Jodie?”

  Jodie sat back, her pulse picking up pace at Heath’s intimate touch. She bit her lip to stop herself from thinking that way. “I love Australia.”

  Heath shook his head, and watched her over the top of his tea. “There’s more to it than that. What was so bad about going back to London? I always thought the Beefeaters looked a little odd, but enough so for you never to set foot on British soil again?”

&n
bsp; Jodie couldn’t bring herself to laugh at his half-hearted joke. She just continued staring at her hands in her lap.

  “Are you running from the law?” Heath finally asked.

  Now that brought a smile to Jodie’s face, until she noticed that Heath was dead serious. “Have you been thinking that in the back of your head all this time? That I am some sort of criminal, on the run, skipping town before the cops had the chance to run my prints?”

  Heath shrugged. “Not really. Not all this time. Just every now and then it has been one of the possibilities tracking through my mind.”

  “And what do you think I might have done? Robbery? Murder? Bio-terrorism?” And still he married her!

  He raised one blond eyebrow. “You tell me.”

  She spun to face him down. “I am not on the run from the law, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Feeling as if she had dodged a bullet, Jodie went to make her move but was stopped again, this time by Heath’s hand on her thigh. And with that touch searing through her dress she could not have moved from the couch if the house were burning down around her.

  “So why? Why move to Australia, and why after ten-odd months decide that you simply had to stay, at the cost of leaving behind everything you have ever known without a backward glance?”

  His voice was calm, but she could feel intensity curled deep within him like a jungle cat ready to pounce. And she knew that there was more to his question than—why Australia? It was the big one. Why not London?

  She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one. Not with misdirection, or an argument, or smoke and mirrors. He had asked her a reasonable question and the time had come to say the answer out loud.

  She blew out a long slow breath, collected her thoughts and said, “It’s my mum.”

  “What’s she like?” he encouraged, kindly allowing her to dip her toes in the water of disclosure.

  “She doesn’t look much like me. She’s taller, her hair is fiery red, her legs are to die for, and her personality. Well, let’s just say that if she was in this room now you would forget I was here within five minutes.”