Turning, she looked out the passenger-side window. She was exhausted.
Maybe it was the drama of the afternoon. By profession she was an agricultural officer who advised people on landcare. She certainly wasn’t a medical guru who was used to keeping people alive.
Maybe it was meeting the man beside her – someone she’d known all her life without really knowing him at all.
Perhaps. But she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, least of all herself. Fun, fun, fun in the sun was her motto for this year. She didn’t need emotional complications. Unfortunately her body had other ideas. Every nerve ending was buzzing. She breathed in his scent, felt his warmth. The transparent thread of attraction between them seemed to have somehow metamorphosed into a solid rope. Sharing the same airspace in the ute made her feelings seem so much stronger, louder, clearer. Again Bella mentally shook herself. Too old, too serious, too close, too much. Think of something else, she told herself firmly.
She trained her eyes out the window. A lonely ribbon of dirt unravelled across the plains in front of them. As the ute followed the track back towards the stockmen’s quarters, she could see billowing clouds of red dust in the distance; a mob of startled horses, moving, pounding their hooves in the lateafternoon light. As both ute and horses drew closer, Bella could see a multitude of colours: strawberry roan, bay, chestnut, palomino, dappled grey and even skewbald, their four-legged shadows silhouetted through particles of dust as the leaders swung the mob in flight at sight of the vehicle.
Then the horses were past.
The ute drove on.
Dropping her head back against the seat-rest, Bella allowed her surroundings to become the sole focus of her consciousness, her only frame of reference the bush outside. The scrub rolled out over hill and down gully; lancewood, bendee and rosewood, tragic-looking yapunyah and ironbark trees with limbs spread in supplication to the burning heat. Black speargrass, purple pigeon and bambatsi all clung to the ochre-coloured soil.
It seemed to Bella that the bush up here was wild with hostility for man’s intrusion but at the same time it sucked you in, made you become a part of it, like a parasite feasting on your soul. Before you knew it, it had you utterly bewitched and you felt like you could never live anywhere else in the world. It reminded Bella of Tindarra, the beguiling valley hidden amid the massive mountains of the Great Dividing Range at home in Gippsland, where her Aunty Maggie and the O’Haras lived.
On the opposite side of the ute, Will was thinking hard. He wanted to say something to the girl sitting quietly beside him chewing her red and luscious bottom lip.
But Will knew whatever he said would come out wrong. She made him feel like a fumbling seventeen-year-old on his first date. Her body language spoke volumes anyway, head and shoulders turned away. All he could see was a tumbling mass of curly hair, spilling down under the back of her hat.
Better not to say anything, he decided. Just shut up and drive.
Like a lazy Sunday afternoon spin on a sunny outback day.
‘Oh no!’ Bella sat up straight, and thumped the Jesus bar with frustration as they approached a hand-drawn sign indicating the turn-off to the stockmen’s quarters.
‘What’s up?’ asked Will, glad for something to talk about.
‘See that green Toyota wagon over there?’ Bella waved her hand in the direction of a group of dongas to their left. ‘That’s the boss from hell, and I’ve left a humungous mess in the bloody kitchen. Damn it!’ The Jesus bar copped another couple of thumps. ‘She was supposed to be in Rockhampton.’
‘Surely she can’t be that bad? Who is she anyway?’
‘She is Siobhan, the station manager’s wife. And she is my boss. I’ll be out on my butt over this one.’
‘Surely she can’t carpet you over a messy kitchen. You’ve just been saving a little boy’s life, for goodness sake. She’d have heard it all on the two-way radio anyway.’
Bella sighed. ‘Siobhan doesn’t keep the radio on. Got more important things to do than listen to station chitchat, she says.’
‘Just tell her then. She’ll understand.’
‘No, it’s you who doesn’t understand, Will. Siobhan hates my guts, has done since we arrived. I’ve been in awful trouble lately. You’ll see what I mean.’
Will swung the LandCruiser into the parking area and brought it to a halt in front of the ring-lock fence surrounding the group of buildings the stockmen and women called home. Bella jumped out of the ute and slammed the door. Jamming her hat further down on her head, she strode off towards the kitchen.
Following more sedately, Will admired the way Bella’s butt moved from side to side, her long legs eating the distance across the lawn. He increased his stride to try to catch up as she strode onto the kitchen verandah.
He could hear the shrill female voice even before he saw its owner. Through the huge side windows on the walk up to the sliding door, he glimpsed one scary sight. Standing adrift in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, she was wrapped in a copious pomegranate sheath that screamed expensive but looked hideous on a dumpy, pear-shaped body. Her painted face reminded him of a circus clown he’d once seen as a little kid – white with scarlet and black slashes. From memory, he’d been terrified. This creature tapped a pointy-toed, high-heeled, devil-red shoe against the laminate floor as her voice rose and fell, twisting with scorn like a striking snake.
‘Isabella? Isabella! What is the meaning of this disgusting mess? When I made you fill in for the weekend, I assumed you could actually cook. This is not what I would call cooking, young lady. And to just walk out and leave our supplies to the blowflies is simply unacceptable! You STUPID IDIOT!’ The pomegranate sheath whirled, doughy neck rolls quivered and white manicured hands flew through the air, punctuating the screeches. ‘Where have you been and what are you going to do about this MESS?’
Bella stood at the dining-room door spellbound, but not by the woman tearing the very fabric of her character to bits. No. Bella was focused on the globule of egg white hanging precariously above Siobhan’s coiffured head. A head on which every strand of hair was blow-waved and slicked into savage submission. How the heck that bit of goo hadn’t already succumbed to gravity, Bella didn’t know. But it was about to . . .
The globule wavered in the breeze from the opened sliding door. Swinging lazily, the gooey strands securing it to the ceiling slowly but surely drooped downwards, slipping and sliding with malicious intent.
And then the gluey muck was on its way.
Phlat!
Chapter 5
It was chiming ten on the kitchen clock as Bella flipped over the cheese sandwiches lined up like soldiers in the frypan. Over the orchestral voices of insects and frogs abroad on a typical outback night, she could hear roars of laughter coming from the dining room in the stockmen’s quarters.
Chairs thumped on the worn vinyl floor as both Rodney and Macca rocked back and forth, doubled up with laughter over the vision of an egg-white-daubed Siobhan. Bella could hear Will’s deep voice rumble on through the laughter as he described the pomegranate she-devil from hell.
Despite the dire outcome, Bella couldn’t help but grin to herself at the picture that came to mind: a speechless Siobhan, mouth wide open to the flies, swiping at a slick blob of slime that had first hit her lacquered hair and then slowly slid south to adhere itself to her mascara-encrusted eyelashes.
Siobhan had immediately flung her hand to the mess in her eyes, which only made matters worse; a flick of her wrist split the now blackened mess in two, sending it downwards to stain the folds of the outlandish sheath.
Bella and Will had watched in silence.
The fallout from the disaster hadn’t been instant termination of employment as Bella predicted.
It was worse.
She now had to clean every inch of the guest quarters – on her own – for the company VIPs who were arriving next week. Six bedrooms, six bathrooms, six toilets, kitchen, dining room, two lounges, and built-in veranda
hs, all thickly coated with red bulldust. There were all manner of creatures to be evicted too – frogs, cockroaches, snakes. Yuck!
What’s more, she had to clean up after they’d gone, and do it every time VIPs came and went until the end of the year. And that was on top of gardening. Her job description was starting to weigh so heavily it was likely to drown her in the nearest turkey nest dam.
If Bella hadn’t needed the money she’d have tossed the job in right there and then. But she and Patty wanted a holiday on their way home at the end of the year, so she bit her tongue and wore it, although that didn’t stop her from bursting into tears once the bitch had gone. Will had opened his strong arms and she’d walked into them blindly, crying like a baby.
‘You don’t have to stay, Bella. Both of you can come home with Macca and me,’ he suggested.
But Bella wasn’t walking away with her tail between her legs. She’d be buggered if Siobhan was going to win that easily. And she didn’t need any bloke to carry her home either. Throwing back her shoulders and drawing in resolve, she moved away from Will – away from temptation. ‘Patty and I made a commitment we’d stick it out for a year and that’s what we’re going to do. That bag isn’t going to get the better of me this easily!’
‘So, I ended up introducing myself,’ Bella could hear Will finishing the story as she walked into the dining room with her tray of toasted sandwiches. ‘Siobhan didn’t really seem that interested, though. Might have had something to do with the mess she was in.’ Glimpsing Bella, he then went on, ‘And now here we are, with what I am sure is the most delicious-looking meal ever to grace these stockmen’s quarters.’
He looked straight at Bella. The heat of his gaze suggested it wasn’t just the cheese sandwiches that looked delicious. She could feel herself blushing as she placed the tray on the table. Crikey, she hated that. She usually left all that red and randy stuff up to Patty. Speaking of which . . .
‘How’s the famous spaghetti bolognaise and sumptuous pavlova coming along, cookie?’ Patty arrived at her friend’s side as if beckoned, smelling like Pears soap. ‘Beats me why you were going to the trouble of cooking all that stuff. Not many here to eat it anyway.’
Bella gritted her teeth. ‘It was a challenge, and the food was to last the whole weekend so I didn’t have to cook again.’ Lifting the plate of sandwiches she pushed them into Patty’s chest. ‘There, smart alec. And before you ask, it’s tinned two-fruits and cream for sweets.’
Patty opened her mouth.
‘Don’t say a word!’ Bella held up her spare hand signalling STOP in capital letters. ‘Not unless you want to wear the two-fruits over that head of yours.’
Patty took the plate of sandwiches in one hand and zipped her lips with two fingers of the other, at the same time winking at Macca.
It was a quiet Friday night at the quarters. Most of the other ringers had taken off for Gundolin, a small town a few hundred kilometres away. The rest had already had their tea and departed to bed.
All those involved in the day’s traumatic events sat around the table munching their food as Patty and Macca filled everyone in on Max’s medical evacuation to Brisbane. He was still critically ill but had stabilised which was a relief. The conversation then moved to lighter matters.
‘Are you two blokes in for tomorrow night’s rodeo at Gundolin?’ Rodney spluttered around a mouthful of toast and cheese.
Bella swiped at the wet crumbs that had landed on her hands. ‘Jeez, Rodney. Didn’t your mother ever teach you some manners? Or at least that fancy boarding school you went to?’ Rodney ignored her, focusing instead on Will and Macca. ‘Gundolin rodeo, boys . . . bucking bulls, Bundy, beer, band and boobs. You both in?’
Will and Macca looked at each other, then across at the girls.
‘Yeah, too right,’ said Will as he gazed at Bella.
The dimples flickered. The man who owned them had no right to look so damned good. The ‘too old, too serious, too close’ mantra Bella had been reciting in her head for the past few hours wasn’t cutting it anymore. Her libido was in goddamn overdrive. She really was in deep shit.
Chapter 6
The day of the Gundolin rodeo dawned hot and heavy. The air was filled with moisture and there were clouds hanging low to the north-west.
‘Better pack our Driza-bones, Patty, it’s going to rain before the day’s out,’ Bella yelled through the kitchen door across to the accommodation dongas where her friend was packing an overnight bag for them both. Bella flipped the eggs she had frying in the pan and glanced up at the station clock ticking loudly on the wall. ‘And can you dash out to the verandah and ring the bell to bring the boys in? Lunch is nearly ready.’
She could see Will, Macca and Rodney out in the horse paddock, arms elbow-deep in mud trying to find the leaking pipe that was supposed to be supplying water to the stock trough. ‘And tell them to bogey on up before they think of crossing the doorway. I’ve just mopped the dining-room floor.’ Bella paused. She looked out the window at the amount of mud wallowing around the boys. ‘On second thoughts, tell them to just have a wash and I’ll serve lunch on the verandah. I haven’t spent all morning cleaning this kitchen for them to dirty it again.’
Patty appeared in the doorway. ‘So, do you want them to have a shower or not?’
‘Well it doesn’t look like they’re anywhere near fixing that leak because water’s still spraying out everywhere. We’ll be lucky to get to Gundolin before dark, the rate they’re going.’
‘Fair go, mate. They’ve been at it all morning. Their swags were rolled up near the ute when I got up at six-thirty for a pee, so they haven’t exactly been standing still pissing into the wind, you know.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Bella looked repentant. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Just grumpy, I guess.’
‘Wouldn’t be a case of a little luvvve sickness, now would it?’ Patty’s grin was as wicked as her brother’s. It just lacked the carnal edge.
‘Love? Now who in the heck would I luvvve out here?’
‘How about just plain old luuust then?’ Patty sang, until she saw the glare on Bella’s face and thought better of it. ‘I’ll just go and ring the bell to call them in, shall I?’ she said.
‘Yeah, you do that!’ Bella slammed some bacon into the frypan on the stove. She tried to work out why she was so out of sorts. It didn’t take long. In her heart of hearts she knew this was the way she reacted to fear, nerves or anger: flight, fright or fight.
What did she have to fear?
Your feelings for Will, whispered her subconscious.
What was making her nervous?
Your feelings for Will. This time the whisper was a little louder.
What was making her angry?
Your feelings for Will. The whisper became a shout.
‘Crap!’ she bellowed, as the bacon spat fat into her eyes. ‘Oh damn!’ she yelled again as she blindly stuck her hands out searching for the sink.
‘What’s the matter?’ a deep voice rumbled at her side.
‘Oh!’ she jumped, slamming a hand down on the tap.
‘Bella, what have you done?’ Will’s voice rumbled again.
‘You know, you really shouldn’t be let loose in a kitchen,’ Patty’s voice joined in.
‘Shit, the bacon’s burning to a crisp,’ said Macca.
‘Just as well I like my pork well done.’ Rodney had the last say.
‘For crap’s sake!’ Bella could hear herself yelling. ‘I’ve got hot fat in my eyes, so if one of you would be kind enough to turn some water on I might be able to rinse them so I can see again!’
‘All right, all right, keep your shirt on.’ Patty’s voice was all businesslike and brisk. She took Bella’s hands and guided them to the now-running water. ‘Wash out your eyes with this.’ A soft cloth was put in her hands. As Bella gently wiped, her blurred vision slowly cleared . . . to see three mud-covered men standing in her spotless kitchen.
‘Argh!’ she screeched a
gain, causing them all to jump.
‘Jeez, Hells Bells, you’ve always been jumpy, but you don’t have to share it around,’ Patty laughed.
‘What the hell do you think you’re all doing in my kitchen looking like that?’ Bella swung around to Patty. ‘Didn’t you tell them to bogey on up, or at least sit on the verandah?’
‘Settle, petal,’ a droll Patty replied. ‘They haven’t finished the pipe patch-up session yet, so it’s no use having a shower. And then you yelled . . .’
‘. . . so we thought we’d see what was going on. We were worried it must have been a snake or something,’ finished Will, as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
Bella peeled back like she was stung, and found herself hard up against the island bench.
‘Christ,’ said Rodney as he viewed the blackened bacon resting in the pan. ‘The Springsure roadhouse is looking pretty darn good for lunch. Let’s put a temporary patch on that pipe leak that’ll do till Monday, and piss off out of here before Bella decides to cook again, ay?’
Bella threw what she had in her hands. It was lucky it was only a soft cloth, because Rodney wore it smack in the middle of his forehead.
Chapter 7
The gates had been open since late Friday afternoon, so when their vehicles rocked into the recreation reserve grounds at Gundolin, hundreds of utes and four-wheel drives were already there. Swags were rolled out in all directions, as people set up camp with others from their own properties.
‘Crikey!’ said Bella. ‘Half of western Queensland must be here.’
‘Yeah, it’s a great rodeo. You always have a good time at Gundolin,’ said Rodney as he looked for where the Ainsley Station mob had camped down.
Straddling the gearstick in the LandCruiser, Bella was jammed in between two men. On her right sat a stocky Rodney, whose body just felt warm against her thigh, like a good mate. To her left sat Will, a hard body pressed up against her left side; a side that had been on fire for the last couple of hours as it rubbed and pushed against him on the gravel roads.
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