“There are bags of feed in the shed, Lachie told me to move them off the floor if it starts flooding.”
Tom nodded, then drained his cup. “I’ll go do that now then.”
“But you must be exhausted.” She had noticed the weary way he moved, the shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes. “I’m sure I can manage it.”
His mouth tilted at the corner. “I’m sure you can, but if I help you, it’ll be done twice as fast.”
He placed his cup in the sink and she stepped toward him. “Tom.” She placed her hand on his muscled forearm. “Thank you for all your help today. I don’t know what I would have done without you here.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
With raincoats on, they dashed across the once dusty driveway to the feed shed. Inside, Harriet pointed to the hessian bags of horse and chicken feed which sat on the floor, perilously close to puddles of water which were being fed by a stream from outside. She tried to speak but the rain thundering on the shed’s roof made a hell of din. She could barely hear herself think.
Once the bags were lifted to higher positions, they checked what else could be damaged if the water flooded the shed. Tom cleared the floor of tools and bits of machinery while Harriet stacked some cardboard boxes on a table.
The house was raised up and had never flooded before, however, if the storm continued to drop rain at this rate, they may have to consider their options. Harriet lifted a sheet and sighed. At least Lachie had kept his dinghy in the shed. That could be a last resort.
Finished, Tom wiped his hand and motioned for her to leave. Harriet followed him to the door before shutting it behind them. They made it almost halfway across the drive before a flash of lightning lit up the sullen clouds, followed a few seconds later by a crack of thunder so close Harriet jumped and lost her footing. She fell to the ground with a splash, a startled cry escaping her lips as pain radiated from her ankle.
Tom was at her side and before Harriet could protest, he lifted her into his arms. She slung her arm around his neck and gave in to the feelings rushing through her. The security and safety she felt embrace masked the jarring pain in her leg.
At the door to the house, she expected him to put her down, but instead he manoeuvred the door open and didn’t stop until he was lowering her onto the couch.
“Are you okay?” he asked, tracing his hands over each leg, checking for injury.
“I think I twisted my ankle when I fell.” She pointed to the afflicted limb. “I’ll be fine. It just needs some ice.”
He ignored her protest and gently removed her boot and sock before rolling the hem of her pants up her calf. She focused on his touch. The way his calloused fingers touched her bare skin made her want so much more than just neighbourly friendship.
He turned to look at her. “You’ll need to rest for a while with an ice pack on this ankle.”
She nodded, her mouth dry, knowing he was right. It was a minor injury. “I’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”
He helped her out of her raincoat and other boot, then found her pillows and helped make her comfortable. He was so tender and sweet in the way he cared for her, Harriet couldn’t help but feel her heart soften even more towards him.
With ice on her ankle and a cup of tea warming her hands, she relaxed into the cushions and lay listening to the sounds around her. The constant rain thrumming on the roof, the creak of the water pipes as Tom worked in the kitchen.
“That’s been twenty minutes,” he said as he returned to her side. He knelt at her foot and removed the ice pack. “It’s looking much better. How does it feel?”
She tested her movement by circling it gently. “Only a twinge really. Nothing’s broken at least.”
“Good.” He put his hands on her tender, cold skin and warmth spread through her. Her pulse quickened as he softly massaged the area.
She sucked in a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me. This will help.” He gazed at her, seeking permission to continue.
She nodded and let her head sink into the pillow behind her. His touch became gentle but firm, easing and kneading her muscles into submission.
He moved higher, tracing his fingers up and down her calf, sending goosebumps tumbling deliciously over her back and across her shoulders. She could barely form a thought with Tom touching her like that, but she knew she liked it. Knew she wanted more. Wanted him.
“Harriet?” His voice pulled her back to reality as his touch eased.
“Yes?” Her reply came out as a squeak and her cheeks heated under his gaze.
“Whatever Daniel did to you …” He paused, shook his head, and started again. “You know that I would never hurt you, right?”
The quiet certainty in Tom’s voice was like a revelation descending on Harriet. He was pure gentleman, honest and kind. She knew without a doubt that she could trust him with her secrets. And with her body.
“I know,” she whispered. “I do trust you.”
Their gazes held and Harriet hoped he could sense how she felt about him. How he made her want things she’d dared not want.
His mobile phoned played a cheery tune in his pocket and he turned to pull it out. “It’s my daughter. Sorry, I have to take this.” He apologised before leaving the room.
Harriet willed her heart to stop pounding then lowered her foot to the floor. It was getting late. She should cook some dinner. Tom was probably starving. With the storm blowing in, they would likely lose power soon.
She pushed herself up and tested her injury. It was much better now so she moved slowly to the kitchen and went to work.
Tom returned a few minutes later, rubbing his hand down his face.
“Is everything okay?” Harriet asked. She wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him.
He nodded and smiled wearily. “They’ve gotten about the same amount of rain as us in Hughenden. Some districts even more.”
“Has there been any damage?”
“Too early to check. We’ll find out more when people can get out and drive around.”
“Well, I’ve started cooking dinner. I thought I should use up some of the defrosted meat in the fridge so I’m making a chicken curry.”
He turned towards the stove, the pots steaming away there. “Smells good.”
She leaned against the bench. “I put some fresh towels in the bathroom. And some more clothes you can wear.”
“Great, thanks.” He drained his cup. “I might take a shower before dinner then.”
Harriet nodded. “It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
He set down his mug. “I’ll do that now then. Hopefully we won’t lose power halfway through. That would be a bit embarrassing if I got stuck with soap in my hair and no hot water.”
She turned her face away as he walked past so he wouldn’t see the colour it had just turned, imagining him naked in the shower.
She didn’t need those kind of images in her mind if she was to spend the night with him, all alone in her house.
Over dinner they discussed Tom’s plans for his station.
“My son, Brian, is really into regenerative farming and has some pretty modern ideas,” Tom’s explained. “I’ve been reading up about it and it sounds interesting.”
Harriet swallowed her mouthful of curry; glad she’d cooked something easy and uncomplicated. Ever since their almost-kiss, Harriet’s heart had been fluttering madly in her chest. Would he try again? She found herself hoping he would.
“Lachie’s the same. He’s been talking about improving the breeding program and other things he can do to help the station. Not sure if this rain is going to help that or not.”
Tom moved beside her, his knee brushing hers, sending quivers up her leg.
“My house needs some work too. You’ve seen it; you know.”
Harriet smiled picturing the worn curtains and lack of furniture. “Maddie and Dylan, the previous owners, weren’t able to
afford any renovations.”
“The bathroom looks like it’s from the seventies. Have you seen the green tiles?” He chuckled a deep throaty laugh.
“Yes! My mother had the same ones before she moved into the retirement home. Apparently they were all the rage back then.”
“So tell me, Harriet. What else would you change?” He put down his fork and leaned in close. Like he was really interested in her opinion.
She took her time, daydreaming of all the things he could do. “I’d replace the bathroom first. Put in a walk-in shower and get rid of the tiled bathtub. Then the kitchen. Does it even have a dishwasher?”
He shook his head.
She continued describing her ideal house, complete with a swing on the verandah and wooden blinds on the windows.
Brigadier Station had some of the features she loved, but she had always felt like a caretaker of the house. A temporary occupant sustaining it for the next generation. The station had been left to the oldest son, so Lachie owned it now, and Harriet felt like she would eventually have to move out to make way for his growing family. Abbie and Hannah needed to make it their home too with their personal touches.
They could only dance around each other for so long before getting on the other’s nerves.
“I lived here with my in-laws for a while,” she said. “Before they moved into town. God, it was horrible. June was so strict. Everything had to be done her way—I couldn’t touch anything.”
“Daniel didn’t defend you?” Tom asked.
She shook her head. “No. He just told me to put up with it, that it wouldn’t be forever, and eventually, they’d leave and I could do what I wanted.”
“And did you?”
She looked around the house. “Over time, I did. But I was juggling babies by then. Daniel liked things the way they were too. He’d lived in the house his whole life and was used to it.” She didn’t mention the time she’d put up new curtains and he’d ripped them from their hangers, tearing the seams she’d spent hours sewing.
“Would you ever consider moving?” he asked in a tender voice. “Leaving Brigadier Station? Or even leaving the district?”
She nodded slowly. “I’ll leave the house at some point. Maybe buy a cottage in town. I like Julia Creek. All my friends are here and the CWA.” She paused as she thought of Noah and Riley off having their own adventures, visiting remote parts of Australia that were only accessible by helicopter. “I’d like to see something of the world. I’ve never really travelled anywhere.”
Tom leaned back in his chair. “I went to Europe once, on a gap year of sorts. I visited Scotland and stayed on a property for six months. God, it was cold and didn’t stop raining most of the time I was there.”
“Adam, Abbie’s father, is from Scotland.” Harriet smiled at the coincidence. “He’s a very nice man, but can be hard to understand sometimes.”
Tom grinned. “Dinne fash lass. Have another dram o’ whisky. Slàinte.”
Harriet couldn’t stop laughing at his over-exaggerated Scottish accent. He chuckled right alongside her and she felt the nerves finally disappear.
“Europe is an eye-opener though,” he said when they had finished their laughing fits. “Some of the buildings are just so old. You don’t see that kind of history here. Really makes you realise what a big world it is and how individually, we are just small cogs in a big machine.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but the lights above her suddenly went dark and the hum of the fridge stopped abruptly.
“I was wondering how long it would take,” Tom said, his voice bodiless in the dark.
Harriet stood and felt her way a few steps before finding the spotlight she had left out and turned it on.
“At least we got through dinner.” She smiled as he stacked their plates and carried them to the sink.
She put the light down and it cast shadows around them. “I’ll do those.”
“Okay. Then I’ll go turn the generator on.” He caught her gaze in the dim light. “I’ll be right back.”
She smiled. “I’ll be here.”
Chapter Eleven
Harriet let her mind wander as she scrubbed the dishes clean. For the first time in decades, she desired a man. She wanted to feel his touch on her skin, his kisses on her body. Her pulse throbbed at the thought of being with him, of giving her body and heart to this man.
He would be gentle. She knew that with absolute certainty. He wouldn’t use and abuse her as Daniel had so often, taking what he wanted and not thinking anything of her pleasure.
It would be different with Tom. As long as she could keep Daniel out of her head.
Life was fleeting, after all. You had to grab onto all the little bits of happiness you could find. If she didn’t take the opportunity tonight, who knew when or if it would ever come around again?
After putting the plate in the drying rack, Harriet wiped her hands on a tea towel and padded down the hallway and into Lachie’s room.
The spotlight she held threw a narrow path of light and she directed it at the bedside table. She opened the top drawer, and lifted some papers to reveal what she was looking for.
The cardboard box came open easily and she pulled out two foil packets. Better safe than sorry. Hopefully Lachie wouldn’t notice the condoms missing. That would be an embarrassing conversation to have.
She slipped them into her pocket before closing the drawer and retracing her steps to the kitchen. Halfway down the hallway, the lights turned back on. She paused and listened to the humming of the generator. Tom had gotten it working. She clicked off the spotlight and was about to blow out the candles when she thought better of it. Nothing like a bit of mood lighting for a romantic night.
She poured two glasses of wine and put them on the coffee table just as Tom came inside.
“I got it working. You can turn the lights on now,” he said as their eyes met.
“I thought we should save the fuel. Who knows how long the storm will last.”
He looked between the candles and wine, then back at her. “Good idea.” He came around to the couch and she waved at him to sit down.
“Thank you for staying with me tonight,” she said through lowered lashes.
“Of course.” He lifted the wine glass to his lips and sipped.
Lightning flashed with a simultaneous boom that reverberated like a gunshot, startling her. She turned to Tom, hand on her heart. “That scared me.”
He chuckled. “Me too. The storm’s getting close now.”
There was a storm raging inside Harriet too and she didn’t know how much longer she could contain it. She wanted so much to reach out to Tom. To ask him to kiss her. To make love to her.
“Harriet?” He shuffled closer to her, so close they were almost touching.
“Yes?” She raised her eyes so she was staring straight into his. They were dark, his eyes hooded.
He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He was nervous too. Maybe as much as her. No, he couldn’t be as nervous as her—that wasn’t possible.
“Remember that last day of school? We spent it talking and playing cards,” he said, a smile curving his full lips.
“We had to hide from the matrons. They would have made us clean the dorms if they’d found us.” God, it was such a long time ago and yet the memories were so vivid. Her heart had been pounding when the day had ended and their buses had finally arrived to take them in different directions.
It was the same now; her heart was pounding again. They were at another crossroads. They could choose to remain friends and neighbours and not explore these feelings between them. Or they could take the risk.
“I wanted to kiss you then. I had spent all day trying to build up the courage,” he said softly. “I regret not taking the risk then.” He leaned closer and she breathed in his purely male smell. “I think it’s a risk worth taking now.”
Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, open and waiting for her. “Then let’s take it together.”
She closed the gap and found his mouth.
The kiss was everything she’d imagined it would be—demanding, insistent, both tender and hungry at the same time. She opened her mouth and his tongue slipped inside to explore. His hand touched her arm and made tentative movements up and down her tingling skin. She leaned into him, encouraging his touch.
When they came up for air, he turned his attention to her neck. Moving his lips softly, tenderly over her exposed flesh. Kissing away the bad memories and replacing them with exquisite new ones.
She moaned as his hand stroked her back, then lowered to curve around her hips and bottom. His touch set her blood on fire with need.
Often over the years, she’d imagined what this would be like—to be with a man who wanted her, loved her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him closer, pressing her breasts against him. He caught her hips and laid her across the couch, hovering over her on his knees.
He sought her gaze. Another streak of lightning flashed and she saw the question in his eyes. The ‘Is this okay?’ from him.
She nodded and smiled. “I want this more than you know. I want you.” It sounded like a plea. And it was. She was sure that if he didn’t make love to her now that she would ignite into a hot burning mess and die, having never known true pleasure.
“You can stop me if it gets too much,” he whispered before returning to her neck where he gently licked and sucked her sensitive spots. She moaned aloud and arched under him.
His hands pulled at her shirt, loosening the buttons and exposing her body. He moved his mouth there, exploring the pale skin below her bra before rising to kiss the exposed tops of her breasts.
Needing to strip away all barriers between them, she moved to pull away her clothes. He did the same, returning to press his glorious naked skin against her. He was hard against her thigh as his fingers and mouth continued to discover her. He sucked on her nipples, swirling his tongue around their peaks and she shuddered under his touch. So exquisite.
Desire built as he moved lower, his hands gently pushing her thighs apart so he could see her, touch her, taste her.
Christmas at Brigadier Station Page 6
