Down Outback Roads
Page 3
He pulled a face but the gravity in his eyes told her he didn’t really mind her affection.
The lunch trolley rattled in the corridor outside. Kree tucked her white t-shirt into the waistband of her jeans and collected her backpack from the bedside chair. Her usual handbag was still sitting on her kitchen bench in her mountain cabin back at Elk Falls. When she’d left, she’d grabbed only the bare essentials.
‘I’ll leave you to eat in peace, while I head to the motel to check you in online – it’s almost twenty-four hours before your Sydney flight.’ She hesitated. ‘I know Sally will meet you at the airport, but are you sure you don’t want me to fly with you?’
‘Thanks, but you’ve just flown halfway round the world and I know how ill flying makes you feel. Besides, Ewan said the airline has put on some larger planes and the flight is now only forty minutes.’
‘Ewan?’ Her backpack strap slipped, unnoticed, off her shoulder. She managed to catch the pack before it hit the floor. ‘Did he call?’
Seth thumbed through the car magazine. ‘No, he and Travis visited yesterday after those news reporters left. You’d gone to call Sally.’ Seth held up the four-wheel drive magazine. ‘Ewan brought me this.’
She moistened her dry mouth. She wasn’t going to ask but the question had already formed. ‘Did … did Ewan say anything about him and Travis having dinner with me?’
Seth shook his head, his attention caught by the picture of a mud-sprayed ute. ‘We talked about cars, bull bars and the airseeder part they’d come to Dubbo to collect.’
She smothered a pang of disappointment. It was good she wasn’t on Ewan’s radar. Now she could chalk the bond she’d believed they shared up to the intensity of the search. A bond that simply didn’t exist in the normal world. She hooked the backpack over her shoulder and turned towards the door. She could now get back to reality and looking after her brother.
‘Actually …’ Seth said from behind her, ‘he did ask if you could cook.’
CHAPTER THREE
Ewan leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the twins’ bedroom. He’d come in from the paddocks, had a quick shower and was now helping Tish put the boys to bed.
Braye waved at him with both arms and pulled his ‘wrestle me’ face. Ewan caught his own grin before it made it to his lips and shook his head. Any sign of amusement and Braye would boomerang out of the bed Tish had spent ten minutes getting him into. If the five-year-old didn’t need a last drink of water, he needed his favourite bear or his second favourite bear or the toy tractor he’d left downstairs. In contrast, Darby already lay in bed, the covers neatly arranged beneath his chin and his own bear nestled in the crook of his small arm.
Tish bent to tuck Braye’s handmade quilt in around him and Ewan took advantage of the diversion to wink at Darby, who winked their special wink in return. Darby might be reluctant to use his words, but he had no such trouble with non-verbal communication.
Beneath his crossed arms, Ewan could feel the heightened thump of his heart. God he loved the boys. Their energy, exuberance and tight hugs had anchored him through the turbulence of the past three years. Too tired to feel, too busy to think, he’d devoted his life to caring for his brother’s children, and in return they’d given him a reason to get on with living.
Tish straightened after kissing Darby’s cheek and, with her eyes on the now-still Braye, walked towards the door to flick off the light. The golden glow from the hallway spilled into the room, decorated in a green-and-red tractor theme. Tish hovered just outside as Ewan completed the nightly ritual.
He unfolded his arms and pushed away from the doorframe to head towards Braye’s bedside. For all his resistance, Braye was always asleep first. It wasn’t any wonder, with the amount of energy he expended during the day. Ewan pressed a kiss to Braye’s smooth forehead and received a mumbled ‘Love you’.
Then he made his way across to Darby, careful to not trip over the cars parked in rows on the road-printed mat that separated the beds. Darby gazed at him in the gloom with large, unblinking eyes. Ewan faltered. Emotion sucked and dragged at him like a deep-sea current. He forced himself forwards.
Ewan had to ensure Darby, Braye and Tish always had a home. He had to provide for them financially and leave a legacy not crippled by debt. The size of Marellen might ensure he was asset rich, but the drought had guaranteed he was cash poor. He needed to find a way to make the struggling, historic property commercially viable again.
Ewan kissed Darby’s warm forehead. Tish must have washed his hair, because he smelled of green apples.
‘Lub you.’
‘Love you, too, Darbster,’ he said, throat raw.
Slowly he straightened and used the dim light to compose himself. He couldn’t let Tish witness his strain. She worried far too much. Their money problems weren’t her concern or responsibility nor her wealthy family’s. He joined her in the hallway and turned for a last look at the boys.
Tish laughed quietly. ‘Is it me or is Braye starting to out-think me? He has an answer for everything.’
Ewan motioned for her to lead the way to the kitchen. ‘I see an illustrious law career ahead.’
‘Great,’ Tish said over her shoulder. ‘I won’t tell my mother or she’ll be booking him into law school. She’s desperate for someone to continue the family tradition.’
The shrill shriek of the kitchen’s smoke alarm pierced the night-time silence.
‘You’re kidding,’ Tish said, dragging her hands through her fine, pale-blonde hair. ‘And after I’ve been going so well.’
She sprinted along the hallway, the navy men’s shirt she wore for gardening billowing behind her.
Ewan didn’t hurry, knowing there would be no fire – only a charred dinner. When Tish and the two-year-old twins had moved into the main homestead she’d insisted on taking over the cooking. But between caring for the boys and gardening, she often left a pot to boil for too long or opened the steamy dishwasher too early. The call of the smoke alarm had become such a regular occurrence the boys no longer even stirred in their sleep.
The insistent screech suddenly stopped and the acrid smell of burnt milk drifted his way. He ignored the rumble of his stomach. If dinner was ruined, he’d scramble them some eggs. It wouldn’t matter what they ate, the conversation he’d been avoiding would still happen.
When he’d returned from Dubbo yesterday, he’d checked the bore in the back paddock. Today he’d kept himself away from the house by fixing the broken fence on the western boundary. The unspoken questions and curiosity in Tish’s eyes wouldn’t have faded. She’d want to know about the Dubbo trip and especially about the mysterious American woman. But as much as he loved his sister-in-law like a real sister, he wasn’t ready to talk to her about Kree.
His fear of seeing Kree at the hospital when visiting Seth had proved unfounded. Since their farewell at the command post, he’d kidded himself he could slot back into his regular life, thoughts of her the last thing on his mind. But it made no difference how physically hard he worked, or how late he stayed awake, he couldn’t blank out the memory of the sweetness of her smile or the joy in her laughter. He had to resist the pull she wielded on him. It didn’t matter how much longer she’d be staying in Australia or on neighbouring Berridale, he’d never be worthy of a woman like her – not after what he’d done.
Tish appeared at the kitchen door. Cheeks flushed, she cast him an apologetic smile. ‘It’s safe to come in. I’d left the white sauce for the lasagne on the stovetop. I wish the elements would turn off after a certain time, like that iron you bought me.’
Ewan draped an arm across her slender shoulders and gave her a quick hug. ‘Don’t worry, we can have lasagne another night. The meat will go fine with toast, or else we can have eggs.’
‘Didn’t we have eggs last night?’
‘We can have them again. I’m so hungry I’d eat your scorched white sauce.’
Tish giggled and led the way into the kitchen that formed the h
eart of the house. When not filled with smoke, the generously sized room smelled of fresh bread, honey and lemons. Tish adored her vegetable garden and orchard. Home-grown produce always filled the fridge, and the fruit bowl always overflowed with fresh fruit. He knew the twins must have picked the last lot of oranges, as he’d found a misshapen orange on the lawn Braye had been using as an impromptu soccer ball.
Together, he and Tish set about making the scrambled eggs and toast. They ate in comfortable silence until Tish looked across the kitchen table, fork halfway to her mouth.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you how your visit to Dubbo with Travis went. You must be enjoying having him around again.’
‘Yes, it took long enough but he’s finally come to his senses and realised there’s no place like western New South Wales. As for the fact that he’s bought the farm I grew up on, I couldn’t be happier.’ Ewan paused. ‘And the Dubbo trip went well. The part I needed in order to fix the airseeder’s hydraulic pump had arrived, and we called in at the hospital to see Seth.’
‘I hope he’s doing okay.’
‘He is. He’s thin and his arm’s pretty banged up, but considering he was pinned under a tree for almost two days, he’s lucky to be with us.’
Tish shuddered. ‘I can’t imagine how he or his sister must have suffered. I’m a mess when Braye stays hidden while we’re playing hide and seek.’
‘She must have been out of her mind, but I think keeping busy helped.’
‘Travis said she rarely left the command post.’
‘And when she did it was just to grab a couple of hours’ sleep at Amanda Butler’s.’
Tish’s green eyes met his. ‘Amanda called today about the poppy-seed dressing she wants me to make. She said the sister is stunning and will leave a few broken hearts behind.’
Ewan put down his fork and took his time to answer. Kree wasn’t his, and never would be, but that didn’t stop a stab of envy at the thought that she’d inevitably belong to someone else. ‘Stunning she may be, but she’s also leaving soon. Even if she wasn’t, she’s way out of our country-boys’ leagues.’
Even Travis?
Tish didn’t have to voice her query. Her concern Travis might have lost his shy heart to the beautiful stranger pinched her face.
‘Well, out of the league for some of us,’ Ewan continued with a reassuring smile. ‘Travis could have anyone he wants, but he’s married to his new farm. If you asked him what hair colour she had, he’d have no idea.’
Relief relaxed Tish’s features, but she didn’t resume eating.
‘What about you?’ she asked quietly. ‘Did you notice the colour of her hair?’
Ewan fought the surge of warmth he knew would appear as a dark flush and strove for casualness. ‘Actually, I did. It’s brown, the same as her brother’s.’ He toyed with his fork. ‘But she’s definitely way out of my league, so just as well I’m also married to my farm.’
Tish’s gaze lingered on his face before she resumed eating. ‘You and Travis are hopeless cases. There’s more to life than machinery and cattle.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘One day, I’ll make good on my threat to sign you up to an internet dating site. Maddy Palin is now engaged to that fellow she met on Rural Hearts.’
Ewan chuckled. ‘The world simply isn’t ready for two single rural romeos called Travis Sinclair and Ewan Mackenzie.’
Tish joined in with his laughter, but not before Ewan noticed the wistfulness wash across her face. No one had been happier than Tish when Travis had returned. Ewan had to do all that he could to create an opportunity for the old friends to catch up and say more than two words to each other. He knew that Kree’s intimate dinner party would provide the perfect venue, and he would have to be a fool not to take advantage of such an opportunity. No matter what his self-preservation might say.
‘Just to prove we’re not totally hopeless cases, Travis and I actually have a dinner invitation.’
Tish stopped chewing. ‘Dinner invitation?’
‘Yes, Kree promised us a pot roast to say thanks for helping find Seth.’
‘That’s nice. I know how hard you both searched for him. Are you going?’
Ewan passed a hand around the base of his neck. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t, but for some reason when I mentioned the invitation on the trip home yesterday, Travis thought it was a great idea. I haven’t said anything to Kree yet, mind you.’
Tish paired her knife and fork together on her plate, signalling she’d finished eating even though her plate wasn’t empty. ‘I think it’s a great idea, too. You’ll all have a fabulous night, I’m sure.’
She stood.
‘Tish,’ he said into the sudden quiet, ‘I told Travis I’d only agree to go if you came as well.’
Tish lowered herself into the wooden kitchen chair. ‘Me? But I don’t ever go out. Who would have the boys? Mrs Murphy won’t come back after Braye put salt in the sugar container.’
‘Can you blame him? She’d dosed them on cough medicine when they were perfectly well, to make them sleep.’ His voice roughened. ‘It’s not Braye’s fault it makes him hyperactive instead of sleepy. A cup of salty tea was the least of her worries after I’d finished with her.’
Ewan unclenched the fist he’d made at the memory of returning home from the Damn the Drought charity ball to find Darby asleep on the floor of his room and Braye having locked himself in the pantry.
Tish again stood. ‘Thanks for thinking of me, but I can’t go. I can’t leave the boys.’
Ewan stood too, his dinner also unfinished. The prospect of being near Kree had quashed his hunger. He’d volunteer to look after the boys himself but then Tish and Travis would twig that he’d noticed more about Kree than her hair colour. He couldn’t have either his best mate or sister-in-law be privy to the effect Kree had on him.
‘Yes, you can. Pru Knight would love to babysit them. She’s working at home to save money for university. She’s just down the road and has known them all their lives. The boys adore her. They’ll be fine.’
He collected both dinner plates and headed towards the sink. The way Tish pursed her lips suggested she was wavering.
‘I’m sure it won’t be a late night and Kree would appreciate having another woman for company. After all, having dinner with two rural romeos could be rather overwhelming.’
Tish’s giggle told him he’d won. But as he scraped their leftover dinners into a container to give to Whiskey and Midget later, the tension between his shoulder blades told him his victory was a hollow one.
It wasn’t only Tish who’d soon be spending an intimate and cosy evening with Kree.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tish wiped the granite bench beside the sink with slow, deliberate movements. Outside, Whiskey barked at a possum in the jacaranda tree, while inside the hum of the electric kettle filled the kitchen. Ewan had helped her wash the dishes and then headed to the library where she hoped he now slept on his leather recliner. She’d noticed the telltale black smudges beneath his eyes and heard the dawn creak of the floorboards as he’d padded along the hallway. She knew him well enough to know when he wasn’t sleeping. She could also tell when he was … blushing. She stopped wiping the bench. Not that she’d ever seen him blush, but when he’d talked about the American girl, definite colour had seeped across his cheekbones.
Tish glanced towards the door Ewan had recently disappeared through. He was one of the most decent and honourable men she knew and needed someone in his life besides her and the boys. Despite what he believed, he deserved to find happiness. He had to let go of the past and forgive himself. But he appeared oblivious to the fluttering of feminine eyelashes and immune to push-up bras and fake-tanned cleavage.
Sighing, she carefully lifted the sterilised bottles she’d prepared for her poppy-seed dressing, before wiping the bench below. She replaced the bottles and stared at their hourglass shapes. She mightn’t cook very well but she could create. And create she had. Her unique dressing, which only required measuring, ha
d fast gained local notoriety. Amanda Butler had requested five bottles for friends and had offered to pay.
Tish rinsed out the dishcloth and draped it over the side of the washing-up rack. It might just be five bottles today but it could be ten tomorrow. Fergus had only ever drawn an income from the farm and when he’d died there had been, no nest egg in their bank account. He also hadn’t completed the paperwork for the life insurance she’d asked him to organise when she’d fallen pregnant. Somehow she needed to raise some money to help Ewan run the farm. She chewed the edge of a nail. She could ask her parents, but from experience she knew not a cent would be distributed unless there were conditions attached. And those conditions were always the same – come home.
She reached for the coffee canister and spooned instant coffee into two mugs. The pressure her mother exerted on her to return to the city had steadily increased. She wanted Tish home, not because she loved her only child, but because she couldn’t let her grandsons become ‘uncivilised’. Sure, the boys were getting close to the age when they would attend school, but the small, one-teacher school at Allington would suit them fine. And yes, they didn’t attend pre-school, let alone know their alphabet, but they enjoyed their monthly visits to the bush mobile that visited Allington Hall to provide a pre-school experience. It was important the boys grew up within the warmth of a close-knit community and in a place where they could climb trees and get their hands dirty. For rarely speaking Darby, it was also crucial he remain surrounded by people who understood and didn’t judge him.
Tish flicked the kettle on again. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d found out who she was in the red earth country beyond the kitchen window. She’d found a peace and self-acceptance she couldn’t have achieved in the privileged and glossy life her mother had planned. A wild and unruly pumpkin patch would simply never be allowed to take over the manicured garden of a Mosman mansion. Sure, she’d also discovered loss and pain out here, west of the Blue Mountains, but it was where she belonged. And where her sons belonged. The outback would also ice over before she took the boys away from Ewan. It would break his heart. The twins’ unconditional love had brought him back to life and there was no way she’d allow him to again disengage.