by Stacey Nash
‘Are you cool with us dating?’
‘Dating?’ Jase raised both his eyebrows, and stared so hard Morgan felt the need to shift in his seat. ‘What sort of a pansy-arse word is dating? You mean you want to screw my sister.’
‘Didn’t think you’d appreciate me dropping that bomb.’ Morgan shifted again.
Jase leaned back in his couch once more, a stormy look plastered across his face as he scratched at his jaw. ‘You want to fuck Hannah?’
‘No,’ Morgan snapped. ‘Why are you making this so goddamn hard? I want to start seeing her.’
‘As in, you want to fuck her more than once.’
‘As in, I want to spend time with her. Take her out to dinner, watch movies with her.’ Morgan’s voice rose. ‘Hell, whatever she wants to do.’ He tapped on the chair’s arm, and the impact ricocheted all the way to his shoulder while he sat there holding his best mate’s stare.
A few moments of tense silence passed, neither of them moving, neither looking away. Heat pounded in Morgan’s forehead. Was this Jase’s idea of a joke? He couldn’t quite be sure.
‘Stay the hell away. Hannah doesn’t need any crap.’
‘Look, man, things are different now.’
‘And I don’t give a shit. Your help near fucked up Cooper’s future. My sister deserves better.’
Morgan placed his beer on the table, water droplets dripping down its side. The weighted silence finally got too much, so he forced himself onto heavy feet and made for the door. Jase’s gaze bored into his back, while heavy discontent tracked his escape.
As he let himself out, Morgan said, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’
Chapter 15
There hadn’t been time to even think about what had happened last night at work. Hannah’s head was in too much of a spin. Pop was full steam ahead on the jojoba, so she’d been on the phone and ’net all day, looking into ordering bushes—they were more expensive than cuttings, but twice as likely to survive and twice as fast to bear a crop. She’d also fielded phone calls from various creditors, and made a call to their accountant. In the few spare moments she’d managed to find, she’d tried to contact Cooper—to no avail.
She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jase, nor his energy-ball of a cattle dog. He’d held to his promise of quitting, for when she did the rounds earlier there was no sign of him on the tractor where he should have been ploughing the paddock that had been harvested last month. She’d need to ask him for info on the new buyer.
Pop appeared in the dining room that doubled as Hannah’s office. ‘How’d you get on?’
‘The accountant can see me tomorrow.’
‘Good girl. We’re going to have to take out a loan against the property in order to get set up. There won’t be a problem with that. Burton Park’s been owned outright for years.’
‘What about Jase, Pop?’
‘That kid will just have to fall into line.’
Hannah’s jaw clenched. ‘Do you think, maybe—’
‘If he wants to apologise he’ll find me.’ With that, the old man shuffled out of the room, his slippers scuffing the floorboards.
She wanted to throw her hands in the air—these men were so insufferable—but she didn’t. Instead, Hannah finished up the costings she’d been playing with and vowed to sort this family out. The Burtons had always stuck together. Letting something like this come between them was foolish.
Hannah found her quad bike sitting right next to Jase’s in the barn. She jumped on and twisted the ignition. Within a few revs, the four-wheeler started up. Reversing out of the barn, she swung the vehicle around then took off cross country towards the river and Jase’s cottage.
Her brother’s dual-cab ute sat in its usual spot under the carport, giving Hannah hope he was home. She pulled up right beside it and climbed off the quad to the ruckus of Spud barking from his place on the front porch.
‘G’day, boy,’ Hannah called, and the dog’s tail swished from side to side as he bounded down the stairs and ran laps around her, yapping like a dog half his size. She gave his back a good rub then let herself inside.
‘It’s just me,’ she called and received a grunt in return.
Jase sat on the couch, his feet up on the glass coffee table, the TV sucking all his attention.
‘Old man send you, did he?’
‘No.’ Hannah stopped by the corner of his couch. The game blaring out of the television was an old NRL grand final that looked like the Broncos’ glory days. Well, Langer’s, anyway.
‘Look, Jase, Pop might be pigheaded but there’s no need to stoop to his stubbornness. The man loves you, and he means well. Honestly, I think he just wants to leave us the best legacy he can.’
‘Then he’d do well to treat me like a partner too.’
Hannah exhaled a long breath. ‘He’s trying. It’s hard for him to let go.’
Jase picked up the TV remote from the coffee table. ‘He didn’t even ask my opinion, Han. There was no discussion at all. That’s not the best way to treat your farm manager. And—’ he looked pointedly at her, ‘—it’s no way to treat your business partner.’
Hannah’s legs ached but she wasn’t about to sit down. ‘It was up for discussion.’
‘Like hell it was. You got him all starry eyed with the prospect of new money and jumped on it before I could even buy in.’
‘So, Jase …’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘What is your opinion on diversifying?’
He finger-punched the remote and the game paused. ‘I think it could work, but I’m not sure about your shampoo juice. It’s too risky.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Too niche. What if the bottom falls out of that tiny market or a new trend comes along? We don’t want to be stuck with hundreds of hectares of bushes bearing fruit no one wants.’
‘It’s been on trend for almost ten years. I don’t think it’s going to change and it’s not just hair products. It’s used in most types of beauty products and the oil’s good for cooking too. There’s even talk about it being used in bio-fuel and tea. I’m sure I’ve seen it in tea.’
Jase flipped the remote over and over. ‘And the plants take four years to reach maturity? What are we going to do for an income while we wait for these baby bushes to grow?’
‘If we go for bushes rather than cuttings it’ll only be two years. We’re going to plant one small field at a time and stagger the transition.’
‘Why not go for GM cotton? That’ll give us the same edge—something able to withstand the heat and droughts we’ve been copping lately, yet it won’t be any different to harvest or grow than usual, so the outlay would be minimal. Plus, we’ve already got all the contacts.’
‘And none of them want genetically modified goods. It’s hard to sell with people thinking that’s where cancer comes from. Then there’s the cost.’
‘Can’t tell me these plants you want don’t cost the earth.’
‘They do, but …’
‘We don’t have the capital to finance, do we?’
Hannah shook her head. ‘A small loan will do though. Just enough to cover the set-up.’
Jase stared at the television’s frozen picture, the remote tapping as he turned it. Hannah waited while he tapped. Waited still.
Finally, Jase spoke, ‘Ninety, ten. Cotton’s way. And Lone Tree paddock gets bolls.’
‘Ten per cent of the property is nowhere near enough. It won’t be worth the set-up to process such a tiny amount.’
‘Fifteen then. No more.’
‘Come on, Jase. This isn’t your show any more than it’s mine alone.’ Hannah glared down at him. ‘We’re joint farm managers.’
The remote stalled in his hands, his fingers tightening around the hard plastic. ‘Twenty?’
‘Only if the twenty per cent gets upped to forty after eighteen months.’
He spun the control around again, this time slower than before. ‘But the whole lot gets scrapped if the first twenty doesn’t come close t
o breaking even in its maiden season.’
‘In its second crop-bearing season,’ Hannah bargained. ‘It’s going to cost a bit to set up, and I get Lone Tree. It’s the best paddock.’
Jase’s jaw clenched. ‘Deal if Lone Tree’s mine.’
‘Done. And we’ve still got the sheep.’
‘The bloody sheep are a pain in my arse.’
Hannah took a seat in the second single-seater. Jase had always hated livestock; crops were more his thing.
He hit play on the remote and ‘Alfie’ Langer scored a try, sending the crowd into a rapturous roar.
Hannah drew her legs up underneath her. Starting out with jojoba in twenty per cent of the property wasn’t bad. If all went well in less than five years she’d be at fifty per cent with their money woes a thing of the past. She settled in to watch the old game, her thoughts returning to the night before. The echo of Morgan’s kiss absently drew her fingers to her lips. Jase shifted, plunking his feet onto the timber coffee table. She should tell him.
‘Have you seen Morgan yet?’
‘Yep.’ Her brother stared at the TV.
‘And?’
‘And nothing.’
Chickening out, Hannah pulled out her phone and forwarded Morgan’s number.
‘You should catch up properly. There’s his number.’
A trill sounded from near the kitchen, but Jase ignored it, his focus set on the game.
Langer scored another try.
‘How old is this?’
‘Older than you and Coop.’
She settled down and watched the rest of the game with her brother. When Alfie had led his team to victory and the commentators began talking about the best plays, Hannah pushed herself out of the saggy-bottomed chair. Sitting around was a luxury farmers couldn’t afford. It wasn’t like they were in the middle of summer and coming in during the heat of the day was the only way to stay alive.
‘So you’re back in.’
He issued an affirmative grunt. She turned to Jase, who still sat in his favourite chair with his feet up on the table. ‘Suck up your pride and come talk to Pop. We’re the only family he has, and he’s not gonna be with us forever.’
‘Sure he is.’
As she walked out the door, Hannah wished that were the case.
Chapter 16
Looping her woollen scarf around her neck, Hannah left her ute where it was parked in front of the accountant’s office. She didn’t walk the other way first to look in the community centre. Didn’t climb the steps and check inside the room Morgan used. Didn’t feel her shoulders drop when it was empty. She turned back the way she needed to go and kept putting one foot in front of the other until she reached her destination. She didn’t pull her phone out of her pocket and glance at the same message she’d memorised the moment it arrived the other night.
Next time it’s oysters.
Nor the one that had come a few seconds later.
And more kissing.
Although it had been days, she hadn’t responded to either message. The fluttering inside her heart told her that she damn well should have, but Hannah had intended to talk to Jase first. She’d been too busy though, and now it felt as though too much time had passed since the texts first arrived, so replying would be weird.
It was a reasonable distance to walk from there to Cooper’s place, but with money getting tighter, saving a little petrol wasn’t such a bad idea. Besides, a stroll around somewhere other than the dusty paddocks of Burton Park was always welcome.
For the past two days Cooper hadn’t returned any of her calls, and that wasn’t normal. She didn’t like being at odds with him any more than she liked him putting himself in danger. Digging her fingers into the deep pockets of her puffy jacket, she kept her head down against the cold wind. With only a block, Joe’s Café and the Great Western Motel to go, Hannah rewrapped her scarf around her neck so it covered her mouth and nose against the brisk air biting at her cheeks. As soon as the sun started creeping lower in the sky these days, the warmer air retreated too.
The modern townhouse had been Coop’s home for the past two years, yet it still felt funny thinking of her brother anywhere but Burton Park. Hannah strode across the drive and up to number four where she rapped on the door.
No one answered, but the garage stood open revealing her brother’s work truck inside. He always knocked off around four. Oh, to have a tradie’s life.
Her knuckles tapped on the wooden door again, and this time it opened to expose Coop wearing nothing but a towel. Water dripped from his dark hair, trailing down the side of his face, and he let the door go. It swung wide as he walked back inside. Hannah entered the townhouse and pulled the door closed behind her.
After unwrapping herself, she shoved the scarf in her bag then poured a glass of cool water. The only way to deal with the nasty town water was to guzzle. It was all gone with only a faint coating left on her tongue when Cooper appeared at the base of the stairs, this time fully clothed. Hannah’s heart melted at his damp ruffled hair. Sometimes her brother looked exactly as he had when they were ten and their biggest worry was if Mum would veto swimming in the river.
‘I miss you …’
Cooper wrapped an arm around Hannah, who snuggled into her twin’s side. ‘I hate it when we fight.’ He pushed her back at arm’s length, looking her up then down. She pressed down her black skirt. ‘Hot damn, li’l sis. Are you going on a date?’
Hannah thwacked his hard chest. ‘No. I’ve been to a business meeting.’
‘Fair dink?’
‘Yup. We’re going to try something new on the farm.’
Cooper’s eyebrows rose. ‘The old fella’s all for this?’
‘One hundred per cent.’
He dragged a stained hand through his hair, and Hannah’s heart nearly stopped. Coppery splotches covered the entire back side and spread up his arm. She grabbed hold of the tell-tale appendage and pulled it down to see better. Coop reefed it out of her grip.
‘It’s just a bit of paint.’ He stormed over to the kitchen sink and shoved a glass under the tap before flicking it on. Water hit the receptacle with so much force it splashed into his face. ‘Shit. Damn it.’
‘It doesn’t look like paint.’
‘It’s just paint, Hannah!’ Cooper shouted.
‘Then why are you acting like a moron?’
He threw the water down his throat without answering then slammed his empty glass onto the bench.
‘What are you hiding?’ Hannah could shout too. ‘You’ve been so cagey with those plans and now this? Is this about Mindalby Cotton?’
If it wasn’t paint then what would stain like that?
Coop’s face shone with perspiration, his eyes drilling into hers. ‘I shouldn’t have to prove my innocence to you of all people. You’re my goddamn twin, Hannah. I thought you knew me better than that.’
‘Well, tell me why you had the gin’s blueprints and now you’re covered in … in something. Were you vandalising the place?’
Cooper’s face turned stony. ‘Get out of my house.’
‘No,’ Hannah growled, digging her heels into the carpet. ‘Not until you tell me the truth.’
‘This is bullshit.’ Cooper thundered into his bedroom and slammed the door.
It didn’t move in the full five minutes she stood there, shoulders heaving, staring at the white timber.
In time, the living room began to dim. She should make it back to the ute before dark, so Hannah turned her back on the closed bedroom door and stormed outside.
She wasn’t responsible for Cooper’s actions. She had to accept that and let him make his own mistakes again, even if it was to the detriment of the family. Morgan had made it sound so easy, but straightening up and walking away took every ounce of strength she possessed.
As she crossed the road, late afternoon flirted with dusk, long shadows stretching across the street. Hannah’s throat tightened. Cooper could ruin his entire life. He could go to jail this ti
me and leave her here all alone.
A car horn scared the living daylights out of her, causing Hannah to jump out of the motel’s driveway with her heart lodged in her throat. Once the little red car had disappeared inside, she took a shaky step forward. Warmth leaked from the corner of her eye, and Hannah wiped the tear away.
Feet pounded the pavement behind her.
Hannah swung around, but her brother hadn’t chased her down.
Wearing sweats and a pale green Adidas t-shirt, Morgan powered to a stop. Sweat beaded on his flushed forehead and he panted out, ‘You okay?’
‘Yes,’ Hannah answered on autopilot, but the look on his face was so concerned the lump in her throat exploded and all its scattered pieces flooded her eyes. ‘No … I don’t know.’
‘Oh, Hannah.’ He enveloped her in a sweaty hug, and Hannah sucked in the offered strength. She blinked once, then twice, the tears barely contained. Morgan’s grip on her tightened and her face pressed against his warm chest. More tears threatened to escape, but she pushed those buggers back in and let go of the sexy man in front of her, taking a step away.
‘Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.’
‘No, I’m sorry for the sweat. How about I go clean up then we grab a coffee?’ Morgan tilted his chin towards the motel, whose mailbox they were practically on top of.
Hannah stalled for a few moments, looking at his Adidas shirt. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his, and she suddenly felt less alone. ‘That actually sounds really good.’
‘Come on.’ With a palm pressed to her lower back, Morgan guided her to his room at the back of the motel.
‘I won’t be long.’ He told her, as he jammed his key into the lock.
After she’d entered Hannah took a seat at the tiny round table, trying not to be obvious about scanning the few possessions scattered around the room. She perched on the edge of the chair in an attempt not to crease the blue shirt hanging over its back. A black duffle bag sat on the suitcase rack and a laptop bag and its contents lay strewn on the bed. The shower started up. He must be naked already—her breath hitched—with water falling down his bare skin, pooling around his long feet. Did he like to face the showerhead or prefer to let the water hit his back?
