Down Outback Roads

by Alissa Callen

  ‘Hang on, Fudgy,’ Kree crooned, drawing the goat against her. ‘Stay still so we can get the shirt off.’

  Ewan worked the twisted sleeve free from Fudge’s head and nose, and her face finally appeared. Kree’s hand brushed his as she helped him release the rest of the goat’s tiny body from the heavy cotton.

  Kree kissed the top of the kid’s little head and hugged her. ‘There you go. Your adventure is over. Everything’s fine now.’

  But as Ewan stared at the woman who was holding Fudge safe and secure in her tender arms, he knew everything was far from fine. The tremors in his muscles from her brief touch and the ache in his chest at her sweetness confirmed that without Kree, he’d never be fine again.

  Kree took a sip of her milky hot chocolate. After the night’s excitement, she’d needed something to help her sleep. A now warm and dry Fudge lay asleep on the back verandah, Freckle curled by her side. The screen door had opened and closed, telling her Ewan had finished swimming his laps and would soon be in for his dinner. She glanced at the kitchen clock. Well, his one o’clock in the morning snack. She knew he’d woken at dawn and, knowing him, he’d still do the same tomorrow. She stifled a yawn. Knowing herself, she’d be awake and listening for his tread past her bedroom doorway as he headed for the kitchen.

  She adjusted the pack of frozen peas on her knee. The speed with which he’d dived in after Fudge and the gentleness with which he’d then held her, warmed Kree’s heart. As for how he’d looked shirtless under the spotlight … Her fingers curled around her mug. Not only did he look good, her hands had irrefutable proof from how they’d slid over the slick ridges of his abs that he felt damn good, too. Fragile butterflies unfurled within her middle. She also finally had proof that their connection wasn’t one-sided. When she’d touched him, she’d heard his swift breath and witnessed the flash of dark hunger in his eyes. His guilt had built an impenetrable wall that kept the world at bay, but were some of the bricks now becoming loose?

  Ewan’s boots sounded in the hallway, seconds before he entered the dimly-lit kitchen. Dressed in a charcoal tee and faded jeans, his hair remained damp and tousled.

  ‘How’s the knee?’ he asked as he moved towards the oven where Kree had placed his chicken casserole.

  ‘Good, I hope. I’m more concerned about the bird bath.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll take a look before I head out in the morning.’ Ewan placed the oven-proof bowl onto a placemat and a beer onto a coaster before settling himself into the kitchen chair opposite her.

  ‘Thanks, but you’ve got enough to do. I’m sure the boys can help me.’

  ‘Actually, I’m betting Braye knows how to put the metal water bowl back on the stand, thanks to an incident with an out-of-control dump truck.’ Ewan picked up a fork and looked at the chicken casserole. ‘Thanks for heating this up.’

  ‘No worries.’

  He grinned and the butterflies in her mid-section fluttered. ‘Did you just say “no worries”?’

  ‘Yes, I think I did.’

  ‘We’ll make an Aussie of you yet.’

  A companionable silence settled between them while Ewan ate and she sipped her hot chocolate. It was as though they’d reached a mutual decision to avoid the intensity of their previous conversations and keep everything light between them. No more self-disclosure and no more divulging of deep emotions.

  ‘Fudge doing okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, she and Freckle are snuggled together, asleep, as though that’s what they’ve been doing all night. Thanks again for rescuing her.’

  Ewan shrugged. ‘All in a day’s work.’

  Kree laughed. ‘You big hero.’

  He glanced across at her, his gaze lingering on her mouth. ‘So, how’s Seth going?’

  ‘Good. He has full use of his arm again and is helping out a landscape gardening company for the next fortnight.’

  ‘Will you see him before you fly home?’

  Ewan’s question sounded casual, but grooves appeared beside his mouth.

  ‘He did say he’d come and visit when I’m at Berridale. I think he’s overdosed on the bright city lights and needs a little peace and quiet again.’

  ‘Well, if he does visit, and he needs something to do, between Trav and myself I’m sure we can keep him out of mischief.’

  ‘Thanks, I might hold you to that if he starts driving me crazy with machinery talk.’

  Kree placed the frozen peas on the table. It was time to go. She didn’t know what affected her more. A wet and half-dressed Ewan, or the conversational Ewan whose clear, grey eyes held hers. He had a way of listening that made her want to talk, really talk – and that scared her. Staying in control meant never giving all of herself over to someone. Ray had never been privy to her hopes, dreams and fears.

  Ewan’s glance touched the frozen peas. ‘So, you were going to tell me about your coach house plans?’

  Kree returned the peas to her sore knee. She’d tempt fate a little longer. Ewan had almost finished his casserole and beer.

  ‘They’re going really well. The phone call I was waiting on tonight confirmed the coach house is ours and will be available for town use.’

  Ewan whistled. ‘You don’t muck around. So your investor came through?’

  ‘Yes, they did. The coach house is now owned by Montfield Incorporated, my investor’s company, and they’ve appointed their lawyer as our go-to person for things like insurance, repairs etc.’ She kept her expression neutral. The less Ewan asked about the investor, the better. He’d not approve of how she’d engineered the purchase of the coach house. ‘The Sydney seller can’t rid himself of the building quick enough, so a fast settlement has been reached. We should get the keys next week.’

  ‘And then what’s your plan?’

  ‘I’ve spent the past few days talking to people and canvassing local opinion. The town council is on board, Mrs Jessop has been spreading the word and Beth has agreed to be employed as our part-time manager. So, now it will be a matter of cleaning the building and sourcing stock and tourist information.’

  Ewan’s grave eyes held hers. ‘Which all takes money.’

  ‘I know, and that’s where Seth and I can help. To get the venture started, we’ll donate the proceeds Seth received from selling his survival story to the media.’

  ‘Will that be enough?’

  ‘Yes. An American paper were interested enough to bid for exclusive story rights. The money was always going to go to the Glenalla community in some way, and depending on the coach house expenses, I’m still hoping we can donate to the emergency services.’

  ‘Kree, you’ve already more than repaid any debt you believe you owe Glenalla.’ Seriousness slowed Ewan’s words. ‘It’s now us who owe you.’

  ‘I can never thank everyone enough for saving Seth.’

  Ewan smiled a gentle smile. ‘Well, you have, a thousand times over.’ He pushed back his chair, his bowl empty. ‘I’m heading to Queensland for a few days next week, so put me down after then for anything I can do.’ He winked. ‘I’m sure some tools or boys toys will be needed for something.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Kree returned the frozen peas to the tabletop. ‘Mrs Jessop has already mentioned asking you. It seems her daughter, Cassandra, is coming home from uni on weekends to lend a hand.’

  Ewan groaned and stood. ‘Maybe I’ll stay longer in Queensland.’

  Kree placed her hands flat on the table and readied herself to stand.

  Ewan came to her side, his eyes narrowed. ‘Is your knee still sore?’

  ‘No, just tender. I’m sure it will be fine in the morning. I want to ride Banjo to Berridale, so it will have to be.’

  Ewan offered her his hand. After a brief hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  ‘Heave away.’

  His fingers closed over hers and he pulled her to her feet.

  Kree breathed in the scent of soap and his sun-dried t-shirt and let her hand rest in
the warm strength of his hold. The wide width of his shoulders filled her line of vision. The prospect of Ewan working up a sweat wearing a toolbelt would have more than Mrs Jessop’s daughter volunteering to help at the coach house.

  ‘Any pain?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.’

  Ewan made no effort to release her hand and she made no effort to tug her fingers free. The tick of the kitchen clock marked time.

  ‘Kree?’ Ewan’s husky words seemed to come from a place deep inside him.

  She slowly looked from his collarbones to his face. Tension set his features and rendered his eyes storm-dark.

  She’d left leaving too late and now she’d pay the price. Even without Ewan’s mouth touching hers, her self-control hung in tatters. She’d dated Ray for five years, but after only five seconds of her hand in Ewan’s, she felt more stripped and exposed than she’d ever been. It was as though her self-preservation had simply melted away, leaving her defenceless and vulnerable. He made her feel and want things she hadn’t thought mattered. Things she could never control. Her hand trembled.

  Shutters descended over Ewan’s eyes. He released her fingers as though the contact with her skin scalded him. He swung away to collect his bowl, the shadows concealing his expression.

  ‘Okay, if you’re all right,’ he said, voice hoarse, ‘I’ll hit the hay. I’ve an extra-early start tomorrow.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Tish pummelled the tear-damp pillow that refused to form a comfortable shape. Tension formed a tight band around her head. Kree and Ewan’s doors had long ago closed. The fact they’d finally had some alone time failed to ease her misery. She glanced at her mobile on her bedside table. She needed to call Travis. In the past, he’d always made sense of her ramblings and his calm logic had cleared a path through the haze of her anxiety. But what was keeping her awake had nothing to do with keeping him in the loop about Kree and Ewan. It was early days in the restoration of their friendship and she didn’t want to burden him with other concerns.

  She pressed a hand to her mouth. The world she loved was crumbling around her. She needed money. She and Ewan had cut corners, lived frugally and made it through the drought. But now there were no financial reserves to ensure they could continue to survive. The cost of putting in their first crops in five years had depleted their budget. Until the cash crops made it to harvest, and there were no guarantees they would do so, money would remain tight. They had no stock left, and without sheep or cattle to supplement the cropping enterprises, Marellen wouldn’t be financially viable.

  Ewan had said he had the purchase of the UltraBlack cattle covered and she’d thought his words had meant that the bank had agreed to finance the total amount. But when she’d taken the bank’s letter of offer down to the paddock for Ewan to sign at his lunch break, she’d seen the loan figure, and even she could tell it wasn’t enough. When she’d questioned Ewan, he’d reassured her everything would be fine.

  Tish had then come home, only to take a call from Fred Webb about buying Ewan’s ute. She now knew everything would only be fine because Ewan was going to sell his ute to keep Marellen going for her and his nephews. Ewan’s ute was his pride and joy. He’d bought it before the drought and together, he and Fergus had spent months in the machinery shed doing it up. She couldn’t let him sell the last thing connecting him to his brother.

  Which left only one option for finding the money … her parents. She pressed her fingers harder against her lips. The decision she’d made tonight would irrevocably change life for her and the boys.

  Tomorrow she’d call her mother – and make a deal with the devil.

  The sound of glass shattering in the kitchen caused Kree to turn right at the hallway instead of left. Despite the ache in her knee, she was still planning to ride Banjo to Berridale. She twisted the brass door handle and pushed. The boys were in the sandpit and Ewan on the tractor. Tish was the only other person in the homestead. The kitchen door swung open and she saw Tish standing with her head bowed. Around her booted feet lay the remains of a glass jar.

  ‘Tish, is everything okay?’

  Tish’s head lifted but she didn’t meet Kree’s eyes. ‘Everything’s fine. I’m sterilising jars for tomato chutney and my butter-fingers dropped one.’

  Kree walked into the kitchen. Her ride could wait. Tish’s lack-lustre words indicated things were far from fine. Kree flicked on the electric kettle.

  ‘Like a cuppa?’ she asked.

  ‘Thanks, yes. I would.’ Tish smiled a small smile and bent to carefully collect the largest piece of glass from near her left foot. ‘You know, you’re becoming quite the Aussie.’

  Kree collected the dustpan from the kitchen cupboard. ‘Ewan said the same thing, but no matter how many of your sayings I learn, Darby sometimes still looks at me as though I’m speaking a completely different language.’

  Tish moved her feet for Kree to sweep around them. ‘I don’t think it’s your accent; Darby can have trouble hearing. He had a lot of ear infections when he was younger and even though we’ve done hearing tests that say he hears perfectly, I don’t think he really does.’

  Kree swept the last of the fine shards of glass into the dustpan and stood. ‘Tish, I’m not sure if you know this, but in another life I was actually an audiologist, and sometimes ears might work perfectly but the brain has trouble processing the information that the ears send through. Maybe it could be worth having his hearing tested again, but this time using more specific testing?’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Ewan’s worried Darby doesn’t talk because of something he did.’ She paused. ‘Has … er … Ewan talked to you about … his brother?’

  ‘He did.’ The starkness of his hoarse words when he’d done so continued to keep Kree awake at night. ‘He explained what happened. I’m so sorry, Tish, for your loss.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Tish took the dustpan from Kree’s grasp, emptied the glass into the garbage bin and replaced the pan and brush to the cupboard. ‘Ewan still blames himself and I can’t do or say anything to convince him otherwise.’

  ‘I know. Tell me about it.’

  Kree collected two mugs from off the kitchen hutch and set about making their tea.

  ‘He also feels guilty,’ Tish continued as she passed Kree the milk from the fridge, ‘that the emotional upheaval of what happened has affected Darby, and is sure that’s why he doesn’t talk much.’

  Kree set their two full mugs onto the two round chicken coasters on the kitchen table. Tish returned the milk to the fridge, sat opposite Kree and drew the hot mug towards her.

  ‘Darby’s quietness,’ Kree said, ‘could have everything to do with his childhood ear infections and nothing to do with losing his father.’

  ‘I hope so, for Ewan’s sake.’ Tish stared into her tea, which she’d made no effort to drink. ‘I’ll make sure I get Darby’s hearing tested when I’m settled in the city.’

  Kree couldn’t hide the instant lift of her brows. ‘City?’

  Tish didn’t reply using words. The tears filling her green eyes provided all the answers Kree needed. ‘Tish, what’s going on? I hope I’m not out of line saying this, but I overheard your conversation with your mother the other night. You were adamant you weren’t leaving.’

  ‘I know. I am … well, was. And I don’t mind that you heard my conversation. The only person who I don’t want overhearing anything said between myself and my mother is Ewan. It’ll break his heart, and mine, to move the boys away.’

  ‘Surely it won’t come to such a thing?’

  ‘It already has.’

  ‘Why, what’s happened?’

  Tish swiped her hand across her eyes. ‘I don’t want to burden you with my family dramas, you’ve had enough of your own.’

  ‘I hope I’m not only a guest, but a friend by now. It’s okay to tell me what’s bothering you.’

  A smile briefly chased away the unhappiness tensing Tish’s face. ‘Yes, we are friends. I’ve
enjoyed having you here and will certainly miss you when you go.’ Tish sighed, a shuddering sound. ‘The thing is, Ewan needs money. We struggled our way through the drought but now don’t have the financial resources to get back on our feet. There’s no guarantee the crops will thrive and Marellen has always run as a mixed farm. We need stock to generate an income. The bank will cover half the cost of buying new cattle, but Ewan will need to sell his ute and then somehow raise the difference.’

  ‘That sounds like something Ewan would do. I know how much he enjoys his ute, but he would definitely put providing for you and the boys first.’

  ‘I know, but his ute is the last thing linking him to Fergus, so I can’t let him sell it. He’s given up so much to help me raise the boys and doesn’t ask for anything in return.’ Tish’s fingers twisted together. ‘When I stop shaking and dropping jars, I’m calling my mother. She will say yes to giving me the money, but only if I agree to come … home.’

  Distress cracked through Tish’s husky tone.

  Kree shared her heartache. Not only would Tish and the boys miss Marellen and Ewan, but Tish would miss Travis. Kree’s thoughts whirled.

  ‘You mightn’t have to call your mother. There could be another way.’

  ‘Another way? I don’t know how there could be. I spent all night trying to think of alternatives.’

  ‘How about I loan you the money?’

  ‘That’s so kind, but I couldn’t accept. It’s a sizable sum we’re talking about.’ Tish hesitated. ‘I’m also sure you’re a talented artist, but the artists I know don’t make a lot of money.’

  Kree touched her hand. ‘Thanks for your concern, but I do fine. I could have the money for you tomorrow.’

  Tish blinked. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tish tilted her head to the side, hope softening the anxious line of her mouth. ‘Can you really have it by tomorrow?