by Camryn Eyde
Justine’s eyebrows arched.
Aimee huffed out a breath. “What is this?” she asked, looking at the jug.
“A Justine Special. Try it.”
Giving Justine a side-long glance, Aimee sipped at the concoction. It was sweet and powerful. Coughing, she choked out, “Potent.”
“Not half as potent as your rocket fuel. Trust me.”
Aimee put the drink on the coffee table. “I like to do things big.”
“I noticed. So…what happened at dinner?”
The master of avoidance, Aimee sipped at her drink again and shrugged. “People ate?”
“Ha. Ha. Funny. You looked…dare I say it…upset. What happened?”
“Nothing. Just a forgetful brother. It’ll be fine.”
“What’s he forgetting?”
Everything. “What are you? The inquisition?”
“No, I’m…umm…” Justine frowned and averted her eyes for a moment. “I’m just curious.”
“Well don’t be. I’m fine,” Aimee said, dismissing the matter with a wave of her hand.
“Mmm. So you keep saying.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Aimee huffed and stalked away. “Believe whatever you like. It’s time for you to leave.”
“Hey,” Justine said, following Aimee and spinning her around with a tug of her arm. “What’s going on?”
Aimee hesitated. Instinct made Aimee want to run and generally avoid any form of interrogation, but the concerned look on Justine’s face looked genuine and devoid of pity. Everyone else gave her that placating look. The one that screamed ‘poor traumatised child.’ Justine’s ignorance was, for once, something that ran in her favour.
“Aimee?” Justine asked, squeezing Aimee gently on the arm.
“I…it’s nothing,” Aimee said after a few moments of silence. “Your show just happened to turn up here right in the middle of shearing, and we’re a few weeks away from lambing, so we’re trying to improve the condition of the flock. The crops out west are due to be planted, and the fields aren’t prepared yet. So, in short, it’s busy. We’ve just got a lot going on.”
“I get that you’re busy, but we’re not trying to get in the way of you doing your work. That’s the whole point of us being here. To throw the potential suitors into the thick of it to see if they’re cut out for this lifestyle.”
Aimee scoffed. “They’re so not.”
Justine chuckled. “Unfortunately, I’d have to agree with you, but it still doesn’t explain the attitude earlier.”
Aimee let out a long drawn out breath. “I don’t like wannabes.”
“Wannabes?”
Aimee shrugged. “I guess. The point is, those girls don’t know the land and I don’t want Joey to do something foolish.”
“Foolish? Like marrying them?”
Aimee laughed. “No, that’s not going to happen. Trust me.”
“Then what are you getting at?”
Aimee glanced at the picture of her parents on the wall. “People get hurt easily out here. It’s not a resort, it’s a working farm. It’s hard work, it can be dangerous, and I don’t like to take risks.”
Justine’s eyes scoured her face before she answered. “I figured that out, but Aimee, some risks are worth it.”
Tilting her head to the side, Aimee tried to decipher what risk Justine meant. After coming up with no answers, Aimee said, “Not if people get hurt. No risk is worth that.”
Justine took a deep breath. “Well then, we’ll play it safe.”
“Good idea.”
Looking to the floorboards at her feet, Justine took a deep breath before raising her head. “About earlier today…” She nibbled at her lower lip. “I’m sorry about…well…taking advantage of you like that. I’ve never done anything like that before and…umm…” She huffed out a breath of air and shook her head. Looking back up at Aimee, she said, “I really don’t know what to say.”
“That’s a first.”
Justine narrowed her eyes. “I can’t say I have a lot of experience with this kind of situation, so forgive me if I’m struggling. You’re more than welcome to say something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, I’ve no experience with this.”
Aimee cocked her head. “Wait. You think I do? Is that what you’re saying?” Aimee put her hands on her hips. “Typical. You see a woman in jeans and work boots, and automatically assume she’s a lesbian, is that right?”
“No, but being hit on with that revolting cocktail, and being kissed the way you kissed me definitely screams experience. I’m not blind, I can tell you’re interested in me.”
“Interested?” Aimee scoffed. “You need to get over yourself. Not everyone out here is as desperate as my brother.”
Justine shook her head and huffed with frustration. “You can’t help yourself, can you? You just have to be a bitch.”
“The alternative is to let people like you think you have the upper hand.”
“Upper hand? This isn’t a competition.” Justine looked at her through black-rimmed glasses and ran a hand through her wavy, damp hair.
Aimee tried not to notice the way she revealed a bronzed neck and shoulder, but her peripheral vision did it for her. Justine was wearing a red singlet top over a red bra judging by the second strap on her shoulder. The sun had darkened the neckline a little, leaving the shoulder a smooth olive complexion.
“Aimee…” Justine said with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do here.”
Aimee, slightly distracted by Justine’s beauty and the breathlessness of her words, answered with a shrug of her shoulders.
Justine tightened her eyes when she realised that was the only answer she was going to get. “Helpful. Good chat.”
Justine shoulder-charged her on her way to the door, and after righting herself, Aimee spun around and said, “I’m sorry.”
The effect was immediate. Justine froze. “You’re what?” Justine asked as she turned her head to look back at Aimee.
“If you’re looking at me for answers, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any. Contrary to what you believe, this is new to me too.” At Justine’s confused look, Aimee clarified, “Yes, I’m a lesbian, but whatever that was between us earlier isn’t normal for me.” Aimee looked down and shuffled her feet. “I…umm…” Aimee shrugged her shoulders again and looked at the wooden door beside her. It needs paint, she thought as she tried to ignore Justine’s approach.
“You what?”
Furrowing her brow, Aimee looked at Justine. “I don’t know.” Justine held her gaze for so long that Aimee was forced to look away as her face heated.
“What would have happened if your sister hadn’t interrupted us?” Justine asked.
Aimee shrugged again. She shivered as Justine closed the space between them.
“Show me,” Justine said.
Feeling a rush down her body and an instant tingling in her belly, Aimee found herself incapacitated for a brief moment. An incapacitation that proved the difference between them being found decent, or bare and sweaty against the wall.
“Aims?” came the distinct voice of her brother a millisecond before she was about to make her move.
Aimee jumped away from Justine with a curse word. Justine took a couple of quick steps backward and nearly body-bumped Joey as he ran up the stairs.
“Oh.” He stopped and frowned. “Justine?”
“I was just sorting out times for tomorrow.” She looked at Aimee and raised her eyebrows. “So…six?”
Aimee suppressed her confusion and said, “Six.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Aimee blinked the daze out of her eyes and glared at her brother. “What do you want?”
Joey’s jaw hardened. “I was told to apologise.”
“For what? Being an inconsiderate bastard?”
Joey shook his head and stepped closer to his little sis
ter. “You know what, forget it. If you want to act like a martyr for the rest of your life, then have at it.”
“Like you give a damn, Joe. You’re too busy being caught up with your need to hump every woman you can find. New flash, Tracey isn’t coming back, and screwing around isn’t going to help that.”
“This has nothing to do with Tracey, so back off. This is, as usual, about you. It always is. Here’s your new flash, Aimee. It’s been seventeen years. Seventeen. It’s time to stop doing this to yourself every year because nothing…nothing, is going to bring them back.”
Aimee shoved her brother away. “Piss off. You weren’t there, and you have no idea what it was like to feel so helpless. You’ve gotten over it, good for you, but I can never get that image out of my head. You’re not the one that wakes in a cold sweat hearing the echoes of screams that will never go away. You don’t taste the bitterness of smoke that burned them alive. Nothing drowns out the sound of the explosion that tore our lives apart. Nothing!” Standing back far enough to slam the door in her brother’s face, she could hear the desperation in his apologies through the door.
“Aims, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” He tapped softly on the door. “Please open up.”
All he got in response was the click of the deadbolt Aimee had never had the need to use before.
“I’m sorry,” Joey whispered. Slowly, he descended the stairs to find Justine at the bottom looking bewildered.
“Is she okay?” Justine asked.
Running a hand through his hair, Joey said, “Yeah.”
“She didn’t sound okay.”
Letting out a huff of air, Joey looked up the stairs. “No. She didn’t.”
“Should someone go up there?”
Joey shook his head. “She deals better when left alone in this mood.”
“A mood you put her in.”
Joey scowled. “She started it.”
Raising an eyebrow, Justine said, “Mature.”
Joey sighed. Justine was right. He sounded like an immature child. Taking a deep breath, he looked up the stairwell and felt guilt clutch at his chest. “What’s done is done. It’s best to leave her for now.”
“You’re sure?”
Joey nodded. “I’m sure. Goodnight, Justine.”
“Goodnight,” she said, lingering by the stairs for a little longer, but eventually following Joey from the stables.
Chapter Seven
Jogging down the stairs at half five the next morning feeling like she got very little sleep, Aimee walked in to find she’d been beaten to the day. Justine was standing in front of Kite petting her nose and tickling her under the chin. Kite, the floozy, had her eyes half closed and her head tilted up to soak in the attention. Mitsy wriggled her way over to demand a pat that she quickly received.
“Traitors,” Aimee muttered to the animals as she made her way to Justine’s side.
Justine smiled. “They’re friendly, unlike their owner.” Justine winked.
“I’m friendly.”
Raising an eyebrow, Justine stopped patting Mitsy and said, “You look dreadful.”
“Thanks. You look…” Justine had her hair loose and her glasses on. Her jeans were tight and her long-sleeved loose shirt revealed a skin-tight singlet below its unbuttoned front. Aimee swallowed.
“I look?” Justine said, stepping closer.
Aimee remained silent as she tried to find the words she needed.
“Is everything okay?” Justine asked after inspecting Aimee’s face again.
“Sure.”
Aimee made her way down the run and out into the frosty morning to reach the horse paddock to retrieve the two horses that eluded her the night previous.
“Did you sleep?”
Aimee stopped and frowned back at Justine. “What do you care if I did or didn’t?”
“I…overhead you talking to your brother last night.”
Every tired muscle in Aimee’s body stiffened as she opened the latch to the gate
“You have nightmares?”
Aimee shoved the latch back where it came from. “You mean you were snooping? Looking for more tragic stories to put on the tele.” Taking an aggressive step towards Justine she said, “My life is none of your business, and if you so much as a sniff of my private life goes to air, then the least you can expect is a lawsuit.” Aimee spun back around and began to pace. “You have no right to sneak around listening in on other people’s conversations. They’re private and none of your god-damned business.”
“Aimee, stop.” Justine reached out and took hold of Aimee’s forearm.
Snatching it back, Aimee said, “Stop? Stop what?”
“This. I assure you I’m not going to put your private life on television, and I didn’t deliberately listen in on your conversation. I was on my way down the stairs when you started yelling at Joey. I can’t help hearing what I did.”
Aimee crossed her arms and clenched her jaw. “What did you hear exactly?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I have no context to it, but I did figure that whatever it is, it’s deeply upsetting, and can therefore only assume it has something to do with your parents.”
Aimee averted her gaze, giving Justine the opportunity to move closer and once again touch her arm.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Aimee said quietly.
“I’m sorry you lost your parents so young. I’m sorry for upsetting you unintentionally, and I’m sorry for being here.”
Aimee’s gaze flicked back to Justine in question.
“I know you don’t want me here—want any of us here. It wasn’t our choice.”
Aimee took a deep breath and looked at the hand touching her. Justine removed it when it became the focus of attention and Aimee wished she didn’t miss the touch. “I…” Aimee huffed. “I shouldn’t have gone off at you like that.”
“Is that an apology?” Justine asked when the silence lingered.
Aimee gave a slight shrug.
Justine stepped closer. “I’m not your enemy.”
Aimee scoffed to herself. “You’re not my friend, either,” she said, looking up.
“No. I’m not. Which makes me…?”
Swallowing to reintroduce moisture to her suddenly dry mouth, Aimee found herself transfixed by Justine’s questioning eyes. What was she if she wasn’t friend or foe? Justine inched closer and Aimee wet her lips as she tried to formulate a response. “You’re…” Aimee said too breathlessly for her liking. She sounded like a love-struck fool. Trying to sound more assertive, she cleared her through and tried again. “You’re—”
Robbie ran out of the stables and made a bee-line for his aunt. Forcing the women to step apart. Wrapping his aunt in a tight hug, Robbie let Aimee go a moment later to fetch his horse from the paddock.
“Umm…” Aimee cleared her throat when she looked up at Justine again. “You’re taking that one,” Aimee said to Justine, pointing to a black and white mare trotting toward the commotion. Robbie put a halter around her neck and led both horses he had rounded up to the gate.
“Okay.”
“Umm…you know where the saddles and stuff are?”
“Yes.”
“Right.” Aimee nervously played with the collar of her jacket. “So…umm…you’re good?”
The corner of Justine’s mouth tipped up. “I’m good.”
“Umm…okay then.”
Justine began to step past Aimee, but paused long enough to whisper, “You’re blushing.”
***
“Ready, buddy?” Aimee asked as Robbie mounted River just as the sun started to peek over the horizon and send welcoming warm rays through the stables.
“Yep,” he answered, the sun shining through the steam coming from her breath. Winter had yet to relinquish its grip.
“Right. Meet you out front, okay? I’m going to check the city slicker hasn’t broken her neck on Skycatcher.”
“My name is Justine,” Justine called out, making Rob
bie and Aimee snigger.
“Off you go,” she said, patting River on the rump. “How’s it going?” she asked Justine as she rounded Justine’s horse.
“Good,” Justine replied with a grunt as she tightened the girth strap.
“Skycatcher’s a little young and flighty, so watch her.”
“Thanks.” Justine smiled and mounted the tall horse. “Ready.”
“He’s a good rider,” Justine commented to Aimee a few hours later as Robbie cantered across the broken ground of the foothills. They had just navigated their way to a series of water troughs and bores to check their workability, and were now headed towards the old homestead.
Aimee nodded.
“You’ve gone quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
The gentle clicked of hooved feet against dirt and rock kept them company as they saw Robbie’s stead disappear over a hill with Mitsy in tow.
“So…where are these ruins?”
Aimee clenched her jaw and shifted in her saddle. “Just…” she cleared her throat. “Just over that hill where Robbie went.”
“What are they ruins of?” Justine asked after they reached the flat ground.
“The old homestead,” Aimee said as they came into view. Nestled inside a ring of low scraggly gum trees, the stone walls of the old homestead were in various states of disrepair, and the chimney still stood tall. Behind the dilapidated building was a smaller hut of stone and an old wire fence protecting several gravestones. Aimee climbed off Kite and let her graze in the grass still hanging onto a green tinge from the late winter rains and walked over to the homestead. Sitting on a low wall having long lost its fight against gravity, she stared out over the graveyards and the view to the west.
“Is he okay?” Justine asked, joining her and pointing to Aimee’s nephew. He was wandering the hillside nearby with Mitsy doing circles around him with her nose to the ground.
“Yeah, probably looking for wildflowers.”
“Your ancestors?” Justine asked, pointing to the graveyard.
“I suppose so.”
