by Mandy Magro
Bluegrass Bend
MANDY MAGRO
www.harlequinbooks.com.au
Mandy Magro lives in the picturesque country township of Grenfell, New South Wales, with her husband Clancy, and their two girls, Chloe and Taylor. She loves writing about the Australian outback and all the wonderful characters who live there, and her own adventures on the land have made her the passionate country woman she is today.
www.facebook.com/mandymagroauthor
www.mandymagro.com
Download Ronny and Ivy’s love song, ‘A Walk in the Rain’ by Clancy, for free by visiting harlequinbooks.com.au/bluegrassbend
In memory of my lifelong friend, Jacqui Benkler
What lies behind us and what lies in front of us is not as important as what lies within us, so whenever you get the chance, take your heart into Mother Nature, and allow it to breathe …
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Excerpt from Walking the Line
Chapter 1
PROLOGUE
Ivy Tucker manoeuvred through the drunken patrons of the popular Parramatta pub, making sure to smile at those who acknowledged her – it was all because of their cheers that she’d won the open mic night. The cool night air stung her eyes and cheeks as she stepped outside. She looped her scarf around her neck, part of her wanting to turn right around and head back into the warmth, but the crowd was becoming a little too boisterous. After a few uninvited arse grabs, two drinks spilt down her top and one particularly forceful bloke not wanting to take no for an answer, she knew it was time to head back to her aunts’ friend’s house. It had been a long day and she was dying to climb into the comfort of the warm, cosy bed in Pastor John’s spare room.
Pulling her jacket tighter, she dragged her scarf up higher, the melodic thump of the music fading with each hurried footstep she took away from the pub. She wanted to get where she was going, and fast. Being accustomed to the relative safety of living in the small town of Bluegrass Bend, her aunts, May and Alice, had drummed into her the dangers of a young woman walking the city streets alone. She’d promised them she wouldn’t be stupid enough to do such a thing, and now look what she was doing. She felt terrible going against their advice as well as feeling very naive for doing so, but it wasn’t like she had much choice tonight.
Turning down a side street, she whistled a tune to try to keep her overactive mind from running off on a tangent. But the tune couldn’t drown out the fact her footsteps echoed around her, nor that there was no traffic. She felt like she was in a ghost town. Goose bumps prickled her flesh. She stopped whistling. She walked faster. Damn all those stupid horror films she’d watched under duress with her friends as teenagers – half the time with one eye squeezed shut. Images of a flesh-eating Hannibal Lecter or a razor-fingered Freddy Krueger jumping out from one of the many shadows taunted her as she power walked like there was no tomorrow. She wished for a clear night sky, the glow of the moonlight unobscured by dense cloud. It hadn’t been so daunting in the daylight with the hustle and bustle of everyday life but now all the shops were closed it was empty and lifeless and the darkness was making her imagination run wild – to the point where she thought she was being followed.
Halting mid-step, she sharpened her hearing as she spun around, her heart smashing against her chest like a boxer’s fists. Her eyes darted from one side of the street to the other as she assessed her surroundings. Other than a stray dog rummaging through upturned garbage bins – which she dared not approach even though part of her wanted to take it home and love it like there was no tomorrow – there was nobody there. So, after a few more seconds of surveying her surroundings, and feeling confident she wasn’t being followed, she laughed nervously at her overactive imagination, her breath escaping from her trembling lips in misty puffs, and shook her head.
Turning the last corner that led down to her car, the bright yellow glow of streetlights gradually faded away. The light of the one and only streetlight in the backstreet was barely enough for her to see a metre in front of her as it wearily flickered. She groaned. Trust her luck to park in the one street with a faulty light. Feeling extremely alone with the life of the pub now a fair distance behind her, and nothing but darkness in front of her, she picked up her pace to almost a jog – grateful that she’d worn her comfy boots, even as she cursed under her breath for parking so far away, all to avoid the high parking costs out the front of the pub. Now she wished she hadn’t been so careful about her money. She would have paid a hundred bucks to already be within the safety of her car.
Only a little more to go …
The rushed clomp of her boots on the concrete echoed around the street, and the shadows seemed to loom out of every nook and cranny as though reaching for her. She wished she could close her eyes like she had as a child when something scared her, but with her clumsiness she’d probably run straight into a wall and knock herself out cold.
Finally reaching her car, she blipped it unlocked and a comforting sense of safety washed over her. She felt ridiculous for frightening herself so badly as she glanced at her watch glowing in the darkness. It was nearing one in the morning … where had the time gone? Her body was weary but she was still on a high, the night turning out to be better than she’d expected. Who’d have thought she’d win the open mic night? She couldn’t wait to call her aunts in the morning to tell them the good news. Opening her boot, she carefully placed her guitar case in.
A crunch of shoes on gravel pulled her attention behind her. Spinning around, she squinted into the darkness, the strobe effect of the streetlight not aiding her as her eyes tried to adjust. But her ears were working perfectly and after hearing something moving near the industrial bin only metres from her she knew she wasn’t imagining things anymore. Something just didn’t feel right. She hoped the stray dog had followed her, but her instincts were telling her otherwise. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as fear froze her to the spot. She gripped the edge of the boot with sweaty hands.
‘Hello?’ she called out, her voice shaky. It was more of a question than a greeting.
Silence met her.
‘Is anyone there?’
Still nothing.
‘Please, if there is, show yourself.’
A tall silhouette stepped out of the shadows, one hand in his jeans pocket and the other tucked behind him. His strides were long and deliberate, and he remained unnervingly silent. The fractured light gave her a flicker of his features and she recognised him straight away. Dread filled her as he gave her a smile that made her stomach turn. She had to get into her car – now. Because this time, she knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Step by tiny step she began to ease around the side of the car so she could jump in the back door and lock it, but he dashed towards her and blocked her path, wedging her between himself and the corner of her open boot.
She screamed for someone to help her.
The man slammed his free hand over her mouth, bringing his face millimetres from her own. He reeked of alcohol but seemed to have regained some sense of balance after being thrown out of the pub a few hours ago. There was a hollowness in his eyes that freaked her out even more than his drunkenness, like
he didn’t possess a soul.
‘You scream like that again and I’ll have to hurt you good and proper. Got it?’ His voice was spine-chillingly low.
Ivy nodded, heavy tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. She barely dared to breathe.
‘Good girl.’ He bent his head to sniff her neck and hair slowly. ‘So, let’s start afresh, hey?’ He raised his malevolent eyes to meet hers. ‘I know you knocked me back at the pub, and got your friend behind the bar to chuck me out, but I’m guessing you’re just shy and you need a little bit of coaxing, like most of you sheilas do.’ He took her hand, kissing the back of it.
Ivy felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wanted to wrench her hand back but knew if she did, there’d be dire consequences.
Stopping at her elbow, he gave her wrist a firm yank, making her wince. ‘So, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll give you another chance.’ He smiled repulsively. ‘Would you like to have some fun with me?’
Afraid to speak, Ivy shook her head, instinctively turning her face away. She was trembling all over and as much as she fought to gain control of her body, it only got worse.
The man gripped her jaw and forced her eyes back to his. He produced a knife from behind his back, pressing the tip into her cheek as his lips curled into a malicious grin. ‘Does this change your mind at all? ’Cause it sure as hell would make me rethink a bad decision.’
Ivy’s legs threatened to give way. ‘Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll give you everything I have.’
The twenty-centimetre knife glimmered as he pulled it back, disgust contorting his features. ‘I don’t want your money, you stupid fucking woman. I want you – all of you.’ He gripped her face tighter, leant in closer. The feel of his torso against her made her want to vomit. ‘That pretty voice of yours got me so fired up that if I don’t get a piece of you tonight I’m gonna go insane.’ He brought the knife back up to her cheek and pressed the blade into her skin, laughing when she cried out in pain. ‘You and me are going to have us some fun and you’re going to do everything I fucking tell you to do – got it?’
Who the fuck did this man think he was? Adrenaline coursed through Ivy, making her want to fight for her dignity, and her life, as her sense of self-preservation finally outweighed her fear. ‘No, I don’t like it, and I won’t be letting you touch an inch of me.’
‘Yeah, we’ll see about that then, won’t we?’ He pushed her backwards, shoving her into the boot.
Ivy turned her face from him, cheek resting against her guitar case.
Climbing roughly on top of her, he slammed his knees into her hips, pinning her down. She scratched, kicked, bit, punched, screamed – anything but lie there willingly – but fighting only spurred him on. He laughed sadistically as he finally got a secure hold on her, the knife now pressed against her throat.
‘You’re a feisty little one. I like that.’ He pushed his pelvis against hers. ‘Can you feel how much I want you?’
Ivy spat in his face.
Wrong move.
He wiped her saliva away with the back of his hand, eyes seething. ‘You little bitch. You’re gonna be real sorry you just did that.’ He ripped open her jacket and then sliced at her shirt, the blade of the knife not only cutting through the material like butter, but also her flesh, all the way from the top of her pelvis to her rib cage. The pain was like fire entering her blood. She screamed in agony as the man laughed.
‘Oops, well, that was a little bit of a misjudgement by me. Let’s hope you don’t bleed to death before I have my way with you.’ He shifted his weight to get at his jeans, exposing the damaged flesh on her stomach and chest to the icy night air, the shock like an open flame against her wound.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ another man’s voice said as heavy footsteps rushed towards them.
Her attacker’s hand went to her neck as he covered her mouth with his other hand, the knife hitting Ivy’s hip as he dropped it. His grip made it almost impossible for her to breathe. She gasped for air, unable to move with the man’s whole weight on top of her. She could feel her legs going numb, and the throbbing across her stomach was excruciating. Blood dripped from her wound and she felt as though her life was draining from her. Was this how she was going to die? Was her body going to be found dumped in some dirty, dingy street? Her aunts would never get over the heartache.
‘Don’t come any closer, or I’ll fucking kill her!’ her assailant thundered.
The footsteps halted and a few heavy breaths followed. ‘Just calm the fuck down, man, and think about what you’re doing. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life in prison because of some drunken mistake, do you?’
Ivy thought she could hear the man still taking cautious steps towards them, but she couldn’t be sure. Everything around her spun as she began to lose consciousness.
‘Listen here, man, if I were you, I’d do the smart thing and just fuck off, this has nothing to do with you. There’s no need to be acting like some fucking hero … the little lady and I have come to an agreement.’
Ivy’s saviour laughed mockingly. ‘That’s where you’re wrong – this has everything to do with me. So, let her fucking go or I’m gonna break both your arms and legs before you’ve even had a chance to wave that knife in my face.’
Ivy tried to make out her rescuer by rolling her eyes as far sideways as they’d go, but with the angle she was at, as well as the lack of oxygen, it was impossible. He sounded so big and strong. How she wished he’d rip this monster off her.
‘Please, help me,’ she cried out instinctively, the words muffled by the hand across her mouth.
‘Shut your fucking mouth, you whore.’ Squeezing her throat even tighter, her attacker finally stole her ability to breathe. She clawed at his arm in a panic, wheezing as his weight forced out what air was left in her lungs. Somehow she scratched the hand across her mouth deeply enough to draw blood. Her abductor swore.
Hope filled her. She could smell the other man’s aftershave now – it was heady and spicy. He was so close that she could almost reach out and touch him. He was about to save her. Or at least try to. Maybe she was going to live. Or maybe they were both about to die.
‘You take another step and I’ll –’
‘You’ll what? Bash me to death?’ Her saviour sighed heavily. ‘You’re just another fucking coward who takes advantage of vulnerable women. So why don’t you man the fuck up and take it out on me, hey? Let’s see if you got any balls or if you’re all talk and no action.’
Ivy felt her attacker’s grip loosen as he turned to confront her saviour. ‘You scrawny piece of shit. Fuck off.’
The newcomer took another step towards the boot. ‘Looks like I’m going to have to teach you a lesson for attacking a woman.’
The man roared as he leapt off Ivy and out of the boot, pushing her head into the car’s side. Ivy cried out as she felt her head smash against the edge of something solid, and then just as she heard a guttural sound – could it really be coming from her own lips? – her entire world went black.
CHAPTER
1
Healing Hills, Bluegrass Bend,
New South Wales
Screaming out as she woke, Ivy sat bolt upright, her heart in her throat. She tried to swallow but her mouth felt drier than the Simpson Desert. Sweat covered her. She kicked her tangled sheet off. Sobs escaped her as the adrenaline rush began to calm. Even after eight years, the nightmare was still the same, an exact replica of that horrific night. It made her feel as though she was right back there, being attacked by a sadist. She took a few moments to remind herself that it was just a dream; there was no-one standing beside her bed, waiting to slice her open with a knife or beat her to death with their bare hands. There was no threat of being raped. She was in the homestead, her safe haven, tucked up in bed with her aunts asleep just down the hall and her beloved eight-year-old Dalmatian, Bo, downstairs.
With the darkness of the night pressing in on her Ivy reached for her bedside
lamp, quivering hands fumbling with the switch. She needed a well-lit room as much as she needed oxygen right now, and a drink of water wouldn’t go astray either. Warm light flooded her bedroom, providing a sense of safety now that she could confirm there was nobody hiding in the shadows. It upset her that she couldn’t seem to get past the horror of it all, no matter how much she wanted to. Grabbing her glass of water from the bedside table, she took a few big gulps, recalling her progress since it had all happened. It had certainly been a long hard road, and she’d come a long way, thanks to her aunts’ support and her own work alongside their healing horses. But she was still trying to find her way back to her music.
With nausea swirling in her belly, she squeezed the soft feathery pillow she was already clutching as the tears that had soaked her lashes began rolling down her cheeks once more. She took a few deep, calming breaths. It had been ages since her last nightmare, and she wondered what had brought it back. Maybe it was all the stress she’d been under since finding out they might lose Healing Hills to the bank? Her heart squeezed even tighter with the thought. She groaned despairingly. She was over life being so hard. Over trying to heal the gaping hole in her heart the loss of her music had left. And completely over men after what her now ex-boyfriend, Malcolm Miller, had done to her two weeks ago. Finding him in bed with another man was beyond anything she could have ever imagined happening in her ongoing disastrous love life. It had shocked her to the very core. He was the kind of bloke every girl dreamed of – kind, good looking, strong, hardworking; she thought she was on a winning streak with him. Hell, she’d even imagined marrying him and having his children. How wrong she had been – yet again. She’d spent three days in her daggiest pyjamas holed up in her bedroom, torturing herself by watching her favourite rom-coms, and devouring tubs of Connoisseur cookies and cream ice cream – the entire time wondering what was wrong with her. What the hell was she doing so wrong to turn a straight man gay? Her aunts had eventually lost their patience and dragged her from the bedroom, screwing their noses up as they’d begged her to shower and eat something decent.
