Garth was sitting on the wide verandah holding a beer. He stood and waited at the top of the steps as she got out of the car, a little bit of shyness settling in her chest. It had been a long time since she’d seen Garth, but the feelings she’d had for him as a teenager bubbled to the surface as he stood there. Fresh and glowing with health, he’d showered, changed, and damp curls touched the collar of his pale blue shirt. He’d been her first real boyfriend and she’d fallen pretty hard for him back in those hormonal teenage days. And he was still a looker; if anything, his looks had improved with maturity.
‘Want to sit outside? It’s a lovely night.’ His deep voice washed over her as he held up his glass. ‘A beer or a wine?’
‘A beer would be great, thanks.’ Lucy reached up and dabbed at the perspiration on her brow. ‘It’s going to take me a while to get used to this western heat again.’
A hammock swing hung next to where Garth had been sitting and she settled in. The verandah was enclosed with a light screen to keep the flies and bugs out but she could still see through the light gauze over the paddocks. Dark shapes dotted the lush grass and the occasional muted call of a beast reached her as the cattle settled under the trees for the night.
Lucy smiled when Garth handed her a glass of beer. ‘Thanks, the bottle would have been fine.’ She turned back to the paddock and pointed with her free hand as he sat down. ‘You’re not harvesting yet?’
‘No, we’re about a week behind you over here.’ She caught a white flash as he smiled in the semi-darkness. ‘Besides, your grandparents have booked out every contractor in the district this week.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I’ve been making sandwiches and scones most of the night.’
Garth stared past her and his voice was serious. ‘So tell me, how are they really?’
‘Really, what?’ Lucy sensed a hidden question beneath his words.
‘Are they well? Coping okay? It’s a lot of land for an elderly couple to look after.’
For some reason, Lucy wanted to spring to the defence of her family but she thought carefully before she spoke. ‘Yes it is, but they’re going okay. Once Pop’s had his knee operation, he’ll be as good as new and back on his horse.’
Garth nodded and didn’t say anything, and Lucy spoke to fill the uncomfortable silence. ‘So why is the back gate locked?’
Garth shrugged. ‘The relationship between the two properties has changed since my olds moved away.’
‘In what way?’
‘I don’t think your grandmother likes the way I work. Newfangled ideas, she says, and I guess she didn’t want the close relationship to continue when they left. The padlock went up on the gate after—’
He broke off and Lucy prompted him to continue. ‘After?’
‘No matter.’ He waved his hand out towards the paddock. ‘I’m happy with the way things are going. Hard work by myself some days, but I’m making a go of it.’
‘Pop said cattle prices are up,’
‘Yes, they are. But enough of that. Tell me what you’ve been up to since you moved away.’
Lucy took a deep breath. ‘I’m in advertising now. A potted version of my life for you: I did a degree in creative writing, and I fell into a dream job. I’m a freelance copywriter in Sydney and I work out of one of the big firms.’
‘Freelance?’
‘Yeah, I have a cubby hole at the agency, but I can also do work for other agencies. The new way of the world. SOHO.’
‘Soho? I thought that Soho was in London.’ Garth tipped his beer up and took a drink and she grinned.
‘It is, but it means ‘small office, home office’. I telecommute, that is, I work from home most days.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve got a fair bit of work on at the moment and I thought I could work from here, but I think I’m going to be busy helping Gran with the contractors, and the internet connection is woeful over at Prickle Farm. I’m going to have to go into town and use the library if it doesn’t improve.’
‘I think your grandparents are still on dial-up.’
Lucy nodded and wrinkled her nose. ‘I think so too. I haven’t heard those modem noises for years. They’re not into technology.’
‘Listen, I’ve got a fast connection. You’re welcome to come over here and work.’ Garth smiled at her.
‘That’s really kind of you.’ Being able to save the hundred kilometre plus round trip to town would make a difference to her day.
‘So what was the bright idea you had this afternoon?’ He put his fingers in a square like she had at the dam.
‘Hmm. How do I put this?’ She tipped her head to the side. ‘Maybe I can be extra persuasive. It would be a paid job, if you need money for the farm that is.’
‘You always talked in riddles, Lucy-Lou. What would be a paid job?’
A shimmer of warmth ran through her at the affectionate nickname he’d always used for her.
‘I’m about to develop a proposal for a new product campaign and I need a man.’ She giggled as her words ran together in her excitement.
‘You need a man?’ There was a trace of humour in his tone as he waggled his eyebrows at her and she played along.
‘A manly man, rugged, outdoorsy and strong.’ She lifted her hands to form a frame. ‘If only I’d had camera with me this afternoon, I could have taken a great shot. You were hot and sweaty, but you looked so—’ Woops, she wouldn’t say sexy. Flirting was fun but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. ‘—so hard working. A real Aussie bloke.’ Her voice faltered as he stared at her, his eyes dark and intense.
‘So what’s the product you need a man for?’
‘Sexy lingerie. It’s a huge Australian firm and they’re launching a new product.
Gath spluttered in his beer and his eyes widened. ‘And you want a rugged man to model underwear?’
‘No, of course not, silly.’ Lucy shook her head and laughed at the look of horror on his face. ‘I need a backdrop for the models, and you and the sky and the horse this afternoon were perfect. I’ve been looking at sophisticated city settings and nothing has felt right.’ She looked across at him. ‘And you, Mr McKenzie, gave me a brilliant concept this afternoon. I’ll tell Seb to bring his camera.’
‘Seb?’
‘Yeah, Liam and Jemima are coming up to Prickle Farm, and I’m pretty sure Seb will be too.’ She jumped out of the chair and walked across and crouched in front of his chair. ‘So what do you think, Garth, would you be interested in helping me out?’
‘Hmm.’ He leaned forward and held her gaze. ‘Would it mean your visit would be a bit longer?’
‘Possibly. I can work from here as well as I can from my apartment.’ Excitement flooded though her as the campaign formed in her head. ‘I was meant to come out here! I’ve been thinking about this campaign for weeks and inspiration had deserted me. I want this proposal to be the big break that launches my career. So what do you say?’
‘Can I have some time to think about it?’
‘You sure can. And I’ll get some figures together for you. I’ll get you the best rate I can.’
Garth looked down and she sensed he didn’t want to talk about money. Maybe things were tight and that was why he was working here by himself.
Lucy pushed up to her feet. ‘Thanks for the beer. I’d better get back and see what other jobs Gran has lined up for me.’ Garth stood and held the screen door open for her and followed her down to the driveway. She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Think about my idea. It would be great to work together while I’m here.’
‘I will.’
As she leaned back, a warm hand reached around the back of her neck and Garth pulled her closer. Lucy closed her eyes as his lips lightly brushed across hers. ‘Something to make you want to stay around a bit longer, Lucy Lou.’
Lucy was thoughtful as she drove back to Prickle Farm. The next couple of weeks were going to be busy. . . and interesting. Maybe she could ignore the prickles and the flies.
&n
bsp; Chapter 6
Lucy rose at day break and called Sebastian, full of glee that she could impart the news that Liam and Jemmy were on the way. It would be late afternoon before her cousins arrived and the anticipation of being together again filled her with excitement. Gran was quiet as they buttered the scones and filled picnic baskets, and the food was ready when the first contractor appeared at the door just after nine o’clock.
‘Woo hoo, what have we here? Some new hired help, Mrs Peterkin?’ He lifted the edge of the red checked cloth keeping the scones warm in the basket.
‘Tommy Robinson, you get your hand away from those scones, and no, this is my granddaughter, Lucy.’ She slapped his hand away from the basket as he peered in at the scones. Lucy smiled back at the appreciative grin that came her way when he raised his eyes.
‘I think I’ll volunteer for pick up duty every day,’ he said.
‘Get away with you,’ Gran said. ‘The boys will be waiting for their cuppa.’
‘See you later, love.’ He picked up the three loaded boxes and balanced them on one arm, and picked up the small esky with the other. He winked at Lucy. ‘You too, Mrs. P.’
‘There’s butter and jam in the esky,’ Gran said.
The morning raced by as Gran and Lucy prepared enough sandwiches to feed an army and cleaned up the kitchen afterwards. Lucy was pleased she’d come to the farm because there was no way Gran could have managed the bulk of the catering alone. They chatted but Gran wouldn’t be drawn into any conversation about the farm.
‘I saw Garth McKenzie at the dam when I went for my swim yesterday.” Lucy flicked a glance across as Gran plunged her hands into the hot soapy water.
‘My goodness, that’s hot. Pass me a hand towel, Lucy.’ By the time she’d wiped her hands, the hard look had left Gran’s face and Lucy wondered if she’d imagined it.
‘What was McKenzie doing on our land?’ Her tone was as hard as the words.
Lucy’s head flew up. ‘He was being friendly. Is there a problem there?’ Lucy stared at her grandmother. ‘And why is there a padlock on the back gate. I saw that last night.’
‘Did you try to go over there?’
‘I did, and I ended up going there the long way around. Garth and I were good mates when we were at school. And you and the McKenzies were best of friends once. What’s wrong now?’
Gran sighed and hung the towel on the hook back on the sink. ‘Yes, we were. It all gets too hard sometimes. And yes, there is a problem, but I’m not going to discuss it with you. When the others are here, we’ll have a meeting.’
‘A meeting? That’s a strange thing to call a family chat,’ Lucy ventured.
‘Pah! A family? We haven’t been that since— I have business to discuss and we’ll do it formally.’
Gran turned away and headed for the hall. ‘I’m going to have a bit of a lie down. Tommy’ll be back for those sandwiches soon. Don’t go giving him any encouragement.’
‘No, Gran. I’ll be a sour old battleaxe too,’ Lucy muttered beneath her breath. As much as she hated to admit it, Sebastian wasn’t far wrong. Gran had been hard and cold after her first welcoming greeting and Lucy was beginning to feel like the hired help. Maybe coming out to Prickle Farm hadn’t been such a good idea.
##
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ Sebastian muttered under his breath as he threw a couple of pairs of jeans and spare T-shirts into an overnight bag. ‘Two days and that’s it.’
He’d go for two days and see what the old bat wanted. When Lucy had rung and told him she was going to town to buy him a hat, he knew exactly what she meant. Liam was going to Prickle Farm.
‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’
‘Nope.’ Lucy’s voice was smug. ‘Liam has landed, and he and Jemmy are on the way here now. They’ll be here tonight. It’s Sunday, Seb. You could get on your bike and be out here by dark too.’
‘Aw fuck, Luce. I don’t want to.’
‘You sound like the whining three-year-old you used to be.’ Then her voice was serious. ‘Come on Seb. Gran’s not well. I’ve been watching her and she won’t tell me anything. So get your arse on your bike and get out here.’
“All right.’ Sebastian knew he was being difficult but Christ, he’d rather step into a nest of vipers than front his grandmother. ‘Two days and then I’m outta there. Capiche?’
‘Capiche. Love ya, boy.’ Lucy’s laugh tinkled down the phone. ‘Can’t wait to see you. What paddock are you going to do the nudie run in?’
‘Piss off, Luce.’ He disconnected and went to pack.
Three hours later, Seb was on his BMW and the thrill of the speed and the wind whistling past his face soothed his mood a little. His trepidation about going back to the farm for the first time since the funeral dissipated as his powerful bike flew along the highway. He turned off the new Hunter Express bypass and onto the Golden Highway, and soon the green paddocks of the horse studs of the upper Hunter Valley were flashing by. Peace and serenity filled him.
Of the four cousins, he was the one who loved the land but there was no way he’d ever let his grandmother know that. Pop always welcomed him home, but his grandmother had always been judgmental and nothing he’d done had ever measured up to bloody Liam. Sebastian missed the country; there was nothing like the colours of the paddocks and the big sky out west. Even the thought of the red dust and the prickles of the Pilliga Scrub enticed him. He grinned beneath his helmet as he leaned into a sweeping curve. To his friends, Sebastian was the consummate metro-sexual of the trendy crowd.
A city boy through and through. In his signature black turtlenecks and with his long ponytail, he’d roamed the bars with his camera snapping the in-crowd for the social pages until Lucy got him a start at her agency.
And he hated every minute of his city life.
No one knew that, except for his grandmother, the old crow.
##
Halfway through the journey, Jemima had relented and let Liam drive her beloved sports car. When he’d woken up as she’d turned onto the Golden Highway, his sister had been on for a chat and they’d talked nonstop as they headed for Dubbo.
‘So you’re doing okay?’ He gestured to the car.
‘Yes, I’m doing very well. I’ve bought myself a unit at Mosman, too.’
‘Oh la de da,’ Liam retorted with a laugh.
After a coffee break at Dunedoo, he took over the driving and Jemima relaxed with her feet stretched out. ‘So what are your plans, bro? I was surprised that you came home to the royal summons.’
‘Gran needs us all.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘She’ll tell us when she’s good and ready, but not until we’re all there.’
‘The Famous Four, hey. Back together again.’ Jemima’s voice was soft as she stared through the window. “We used to have great holidays out at Prickle Farm with Gran and Pop, didn’t we?’
‘We did.’ They’d built forts, swum in the dam and mustered cattle with the quad runners. They’d all felt grown up when they were allowed to go down to the hot bore at night and lie back and look at the stars, as they scared each other silly with stories.
‘Remember the Pilliga Princess story?’ Jemima shot him a grin.
‘I was just thinking about that. The Aboriginal ghost lady who always wore a fishing hat. The truckies were so scared of her, they wouldn’t stop for a kip anywhere on the Pilliga Road. I haven’t thought of that story in years.’
‘Poor Seb, you were so mean to him. ‘I’ll never forget that night he ran all the way back to the farmhouse and Gran whopped his behind for not staying with us.’
‘I did wind him up, didn’t I.’ Liam stared at the straight road ahead. He and Seb had never had an easy relationship. ‘You know, I haven’t seen him since the funeral. Have you?’
‘I’ve run into him at a couple of social functions in the city. But not for a couple of years. He’s a top flight photographer now, you know. Very well respected.’
‘I know.�
� Liam shook his head. ‘I’m not that bad. I’ve kept up with the family, even if I have to Google them.’
‘The accident really changed our lives didn’t it? I think of everything as before and after.’
‘Me too.’ Liam shifted back a gear as they came up behind a cattle truck and the smell of cattle seeped through the vents. ‘Screwed us all up big time. Have you heard from our Dad lately?’
‘No, not since he was in South America.’
They were quiet for a while as Liam concentrated on the road, each lost in their own thoughts.
Jemima took in a deep breath. “Ah, the smell of the country. As much as I hate to admit it, I have missed it, you know.’
‘You been out here lately?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘This is the first time since the funeral and I’m a bit nervous.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re not Robinson Crusoe.’
##
Three hours later, Jemima cursed and fought for control as the Audi slipped from left to right on the wet road. A light shower of rain had turned the six kilometre stretch of dirt road between the main Spring Downs road and Prickle Farm into a slippery track. It took them over half an hour to get to the gate of the property, and when the gate with the red and green sign appeared she pulled over.
‘Prickle Farm,’ Liam read the words on the sign before he turned to his sister. ‘Why did you stop?’
‘Because I need confidence and war paint.’
He huffed an impatient sigh when she reached for the makeup bag on the floor of the back seat and proceeded to lather stuff on her face, before brushing her hair. She finished off with a bright red lipstick and a puff of strong perfume.
‘Gawd, Jemmy. I’ll stink too. Give it a break.’
‘Jemima, and it’s Chanel No 5.’ She looked at him through heavily mascaraed eyelashes.
Loving Lucy: A Prickle Farm Romance Page 3
