The Start of Something New

by Stacey Nash

  Jase swivelled to peer at her over his shoulder. A look that not only cut her sentence off, but lasted too long. Hannah’s face warmed. Ducking her head, she climbed on her quad and whistled to the dog.

  The weight of Jase’s stare almost suffocated her.

  Hannah heaved a sigh. Her brother was too stubborn.

  ‘I’ve got some work in the west paddock.’ Jase patted the back of his seat. Spud jumped on behind. ‘I’ll make some calls about milling later this afternoon.’

  ‘Sure,’ Hannah said, only partly listening. ‘I’ve got paperwork to catch up on.’

  She pushed the key around, and the four-wheeler revved to life. As they both peeled across the track and through the open metal gate, Hannah slouched into the bike, hunched over the low handles. Forcing thoughts of Morgan away, she concentrated on the farm.

  Wheat was out; so was canola. They needed something that suited the drier climate, something easy to sell. Jase sped off towards the west and Hannah followed the trails back home. By the time she reached the sprawling old homestead she had an idea. She just needed to research it after she’d sorted out the accounts.

  ***

  Hannah burst into her twin’s townhouse. Her abrupt entrance startled Cooper from his place standing over the kitchen bench. The paper in his hand crumpled, and the bloke by his side frowned from behind a line of empty beer bottles.

  ‘Crikey, li’l sis. It wouldn’t hurt to knock.’

  Hannah bounded over to the bench, her excitement at her afternoon’s work threatening to explode. What she’d assumed was scattered papers turned out to be a single sheet, filling the laminate bench with its sheer size. Straight lines and numbered corners made up a giant set of blueprints. She pushed in closer to her twin, ignoring the other man’s indignant stare and the stench of beer that clung to the air.

  Cooper snatched up the papers.

  Hannah bent to look past him. ‘What are you working on?’

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘Were they—’ she scrunched up her nose, ‘—blueprints for the gin?’

  ‘Why would I have Mindalby Cotton’s blueprints? That job’s finished.’

  Hannah planted a hand on her hip. ‘Yes, why?’

  The other guy snatched a packet of cigarettes from by his collection of empty bottles then swung around Hannah, bumping into her before letting himself out onto the back porch.

  ‘It’s not what you think.’ Cooper picked up a beer and took a swig.

  ‘Then tell me what it is,’ Hannah replied.

  Her brother drank again, turned his back to her, and leaned against the kitchen bench. His shoulders rose and fell with half a dozen breaths before he finally spoke. ‘Just stay out of it.’

  ‘Like hell I will.’ She moved around the island counter so as to meet him eye-to-eye. Cooper closed his in an impressive display of immaturity. She waited. And waited. And …

  ‘I’m a sparky, sis. I can’t work without my tools.’

  ‘Oh, Coop.’ She shook her head.

  He finally met her gaze. ‘Losing time on jobs because what should take a day takes three is ridiculous. Mindalby Electrical is already getting most of the work around town; this is only gonna set me further back in the game.’

  The sliding door screeched as it opened, re-admitting Cooper’s guest. She hadn’t taken the time before, but now Hannah checked him out. Rough around the edges with eyes shiny from heavens only knew what substance, he looked like bad news. Hannah didn’t know the man’s name, but she’d seen blokes like him about town before. How had Cooper even crossed paths with this guy?

  The man made his way across the living room and into the small kitchen, wafting the stink of his smokes all around. He helped himself to a beer from the fridge. All the while Cooper watched her, watching the dodgy dude. After he twisted the beer cap off and dropped it onto the counter with a clatter, Hannah laid a hand on her brother’s warm arm and leaned in, whispering in his ear, ‘It’s not worth it.’

  Cooper didn’t even blink, let alone say anything as she backed away in the direction of the front door. He was silent as she let herself out. Silent still as she climbed in her ute, his face neutral as he watched from the porch.

  Cooper might be an adult, but he’d gotten in serious trouble before, and she couldn’t watch him do that again. Not with Pop so fragile. She dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel and fought back the tears. If he got caught breaking and entering, Coop could go to jail.

  Hannah was smart enough to know that she couldn’t fight every battle alone, that sometimes you needed help. It didn’t make her any less of a person to reach out, and reaching out to the right person could mean the difference between success and failure. She opened her phone and flicked through the contacts, then stared at Morgan’s number.

  The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally: ‘You’ve reached Morgan Harris at Banish Blue. For urgent matters please contact Lifeline Australia. Otherwise, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’

  The phone beeped in her ear, and Hannah took a deep breath. ‘It’s, umm, Hannah.’ Her voice waivered. ‘I’ll call again later. You’re probably busy, or screening your calls, or … or … I don’t know.’ Cripes, what was she even saying? ‘Bye.’ She stabbed the end-call image on her phone’s screen and dropped the device into her lap, her face heating at the disaster that had just unravelled.

  A car zoomed past and Hannah flinched. Hanging around was useless. She had errands to run before heading home, and it was almost five o’clock so she had better hop to it. With a turn of the key, her car sprang to life. She eased away from the kerb, swinging around the wide street to throw a U-turn and head back to the supermarket.

  Before she reached the end of the block, her phone started ringing. She pulled over, cut the engine and answered.

  ‘Hannah. It’s Morgan.’ Concern laced his usually smooth voice.

  ‘Everything’s okay,’ she said. ‘Well, it’s sort of okay.’ She leaned her head against the closed window. ‘It’s sort of not, too. Can I … can I see you?’

  ‘Of course. I’m at the community centre. I’ll be free in about an hour.’

  A sense of relief washed over her. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Of course.’ She could hear the smile in his voice, but something else was there too. An edge of concern maybe. She hit the end-call icon and slid the phone back into her handbag, then started the engine. An hour would be perfect.

  After picking up a few groceries, some clippers at the livestock produce store, and wandering around the park for half an hour, the sun had dropped over the horizon. Night cloaked the streets and even though the park had streetlights Hannah felt a little on edge waiting by the river, so she climbed back in her car and headed to the community centre, where she nabbed a parking spot out front. A group of teens walked past, on their way to the pub no doubt, and Hannah locked the door. Mindalby was a safe town; she’d never worried about being out after dark before, but something felt a little off lately. There’d been rumours of bar brawls and excess drinking, needles in the park, things Mindalby had never had an issue with before. Shivering in the cold cabin, Hannah glanced at the clock on her dash which read five-fifty. Surely the centre had a waiting room or something. Hannah grabbed her bag and switched her phone to silent. After locking up, she climbed the three stairs into the centre. To her relief the door pushed open, unlocked despite business hours ending almost an hour ago. Morgan must be seeing her after hours. Surely he finished up for the day before six.

  Other than a wall full of flyers, the room was empty of reading material. She flicked through them, searching for something interesting, but a side door opened and Nash Hamner came out, followed by Morgan, who looked at her right away. His attention flicked back to Nash, who paused outside the door.

  ‘I’ll see you next week,’ Morgan said as they shook hands.

  ‘Same time?’ Nash started walking towards the door.

  ‘Same place, too.’ Mor
gan smiled.

  Nash’s eyes met hers as she passed, but the old man didn’t say hello. He ducked his head and made an exit. Perhaps he was embarrassed at being seen here, but the anti-social behaviour wasn’t all that unusual for the man.

  ‘Come in, Hannah.’ Still standing by the door, Morgan gestured for her to enter, and Hannah followed his instructions. Once inside the small room, she looked around, noting the lack of appealing decor.

  ‘Thanks so much for making time,’ she told him, to which Morgan responded, ‘Anytime.’

  He strode over to the side of the room and shuffled through a pile of papers, while Hannah looked from the big winged armchair to the smaller swivel chair by a side table. A two-seater lounge adorned the wall and goodness, where should she sit? The armchair was so therapy-like, but the lounge … What if he sat beside her? Was this a counselling session or just friends having a chat?

  A light sweat broke out upon her brow and Hannah clenched her hands together. What did she want this to be?

  She wanted a sympathetic ear and a friendly face. Someone who would help her decide how to handle her twin. Someone who understood Cooper just as well as she did. Maybe she should have called Jase. Jase, who’d seemed unimpressed with her present company.

  Morgan glanced up from his paperwork. ‘I won’t be a second.’

  Hannah dropped into the winged armchair. Her knees bounced as she took in how much Morgan had changed, yet how familiar he still was. His face had filled out, making the angle of his jaw stronger. The upward curve of his cheekbones were more defined and his forehead, though partially hidden under a chunk of dead-straight dark hair, fitted him perfectly. He’d grown into his looks just as he’d grown into the long arms and legs he’d sported as a teenager. She wondered if his chest was still the same, or if the muscles had filled out in it too.

  As though he sensed her studying him, Morgan glanced up. An awkward silence hung between them in which Hannah flushed. A grin akin to the one he’d been wearing at the Red Diamond the other night slipped onto his face, and he pushed all the papers into a pile then stalked across the room, slouching into the swivel chair.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  For a split second she toyed with the idea of not telling him and instead making up some story about Jase wanting him to come over, but her mouth worked of its own accord. ‘It’s Cooper.’

  Morgan hooked his foot up onto his other knee.

  ‘I think he may have gotten himself in a mess, and it’s only going to get worse.’

  She spent the next little while telling their childhood friend all about Pop’s bad heart and Coop’s lack of regard for it. About all the arguments he and Pop had back in his rebellious stage, which led to him splintering away from the family business and settling in town. She also told Morgan about the ‘picket lines’, about what she’d been doing there that morning they first bumped into one another. Then, at last, she told him about her twin’s tools and walking in on him this afternoon with those blueprints. The only thing she didn’t need to tell him about was her brother’s dodgy past. She didn’t need to. He’d been around for that.

  ‘I’m worried he’s gonna do something stupid.’ Hannah’s hands tapped against her knees. Morgan had to be different now. More like he’d been before that one night.

  ‘Coop’s bright.’ Morgan leaned so far forward in his seat that their knees almost touched. ‘I don’t think he would do anything that could get him arrested.’

  Hannah almost laughed. Morgan was bright too. They both always had been, yet still … ‘You didn’t see him today.’ She clasped her hands around her knee in an attempt to stop the limb from tapping, but that made her hand brush his knee. A jolt of nervous energy shot through her. ‘And that man at his apartment looked like bad news.’

  An obnoxious growling came from Morgan’s stomach. He didn’t acknowledge the noise though, so she chose to ignore it as well. He placed his hand on top of hers and finally her leg stopped tap, tap, tapping. Probably because every ounce of focus in her being zipped to the pressure of their touch.

  Morgan’s stomach made another noise that she couldn’t possibly ignore. She pulled back, retreating into the winged arms of the huge chair and suppressed an unexpected smile. ‘You need to eat.’

  ‘Weren’t we going out?’

  Hannah’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  ‘Come on. A bloke’s gotta eat.’ He gestured towards his abdomen. ‘And I have no idea where’s good around here.’

  Laughter fell from her lips. ‘Sure you do. Mindalby never changes.’

  This time, Morgan chuckled. ‘Let’s grab some dinner.’

  Shaking her head, Hannah gathered up her bag. She really shouldn’t.

  ‘You’re going to make me eat alone again?’

  Oh, who was she kidding? It was just a meal. ‘Okay.’

  Chapter 11

  Morgan scooped a helping of chow mein from the shared plate into his bowl, watching Hannah across the table. She’d been laughing since they left the community centre and even now her eyes still sparkled with the remnants of a smile.

  ‘The worst meal I ever had wasn’t at a restaurant,’ she said. ‘Mum went to Sydney for a weekend away while the boys and me stayed home with Pop. We must have been around twelve I guess.’ She poked at her fried rice. ‘After three straight meals of burned barbecue I decided Pop’s cooking was horrid and we all needed a dose of veggies. Pop was happy to play along, so he gave me and Coop free rein in the kitchen.’ She glanced up with a smile. ‘Have you ever seen mashed potato that was both sloppy and lumpy at the same time? Or peas so zapped they shrivel into a hard ball?’

  Morgan chuckled. ‘Are you seriously admitting you’re a terrible cook?’

  ‘When I was twelve!’

  Morgan rested his wrists on the white tablecloth. ‘Well, mine was this disgusting stew thing Jase made one time when we were camping. Maybe none of you Burtons can cook.’

  Morgan cringed at bringing up his old friend. Not that he could ever forget Hannah was related to Jase, but the reminder made him feel dirty. As if he were betraying an unspoken rule of friendship by being here alone with his mate’s sister.

  Hannah laughed. ‘Don’t judge me on Jase’s abilities. That boy still can’t cook.’

  Morgan finished off his plate of chicken. For someone who was tired of Chinese, this meal sure was enjoyable.

  ‘Glad to hear nothing’s changed.’ He needed to switch topics before Jase’s essence wedged itself between them. ‘Do you still hang out with the girls?’

  Hannah frowned. ‘Like?’

  ‘Elsie, Gemma, I dunno the friends who chilled at the farm sometimes.’

  Hannah stabbed at a piece of carrot with her chopstick. ‘Not really.’

  Morgan couldn’t catch a break. Something heavier than Jase hung in the space separating them, but he’d be damned if he was going to let it stay there.

  ‘How’d you find life away from Mindalby?’

  Hannah traced her index finger over the rim of her glass. ‘It was alright.’

  ‘Meet any fun people?’

  Hannah kept the glass her focus as she said, ‘Sure, plenty.’

  ‘Did you live on campus?’ Morgan pushed, but it was too late. She’d clammed up.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hey …’ He reached across the table, stalling an inch shy of touching her hand. Hannah glanced up at him, her face a mask of sadness. He’d always been good at reading people, but Hannah was different. In that moment he had no idea what was eating her up, but, shit, if he didn’t want to stomp whatever it was right out of her life forever.

  As if sensing his concern, she brightened up, but the smile was too stiff. ‘Remember Mr Tremain?’

  ‘I remember the time you punked him.’

  The corner of her mouth twitched. ‘He was so peeved.’ Hannah snickered. ‘That stupid sheep they had in the ag yard though … it used to eat everything!’

  ‘I still can’t believe you spe
nt an entire night dying it.’

  ‘It had to win the show ribbon somehow. No way was that fat bag of wool going to draw any attention without my restyling.’

  Morgan laughed and Hannah almost joined in. ‘I can’t believe …’ She cracked into laughter. ‘I can’t …’ She laughed again.

  ‘That I sprung you?’

  ‘Aiding and abetting, Morgan Harris,’ Hannah mimicked their old teacher, then with laughter still dancing in her green eyes, she said, ‘I had the biggest crush on you back then.’

  Morgan’s laugh seized. His lips, though, stayed upcurled, his heart racing like an Olympic sprinter as he stared into her clear eyes.

  Laughter and voices blasted the silence, stealing the moment just as a cold rush of air hit his back. Hannah’s gaze flicked away, then dropped to the glass in her vice-like grip.

  Morgan pushed his plate to the side in order to reach her. ‘You all right?’

  ‘I—ah—I need to go.’

  ‘What? Why?’ She’d crushed on him—the thought buzzed as if it were alive.

  The people behind him had stolen her attention. Glancing over his shoulder, towards the door where the group laughed, he searched the room and spotted Elsie Sumner.

  ‘Excuse me, Mr Morgan. Any sweets for you today?’ The little waitress stood over their table, her bright smile bouncing between them.

  ‘Ah,’ Morgan stalled, but Hannah didn’t acknowledge the worker—she was too busy fumbling with her bag. As the waitress retreated, Hannah slapped money onto the table and pushed her chair back so quickly she all but got caught up in it. ‘I need to leave.’

  It took Morgan a moment to collect himself enough to realise she was doing a runner. By the time he rose from his seat she was already out the door. ‘Put it on my tab,’ he called to the waitress. ‘I’ll settle with the company card tomorrow.’