Under Christmas Stars

by Alissa Callen

  ‘No way,’ Tanner said, tone disgruntled. ‘He likes you and you don’t even have the carrot.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Drew held up his right hand and Tanner tossed him the carrot. He broke it into chunks and walked to the fence. Reggie moved closer to accept the treat Drew offered. He scratched the grey whorl high on the bull’s forehead.

  Tanner shook his head. ‘That’s it. I’m going to be on Edna’s hit list forever. I’m not man enough for anyone.’

  Denham slapped his back in commiseration before Reggie ate the last of the carrot from Drew’s hand.

  By the time they’d continued on to look at the rodeo yards and then driven back to the party, empty parking spaces indicated that tired families had headed home.

  Drew helped with the clean-up and as he carried a trestle table over to the main house he saw Freya helping Meredith in the kitchen. He’d answered her text about the carriage ride and said he’d meet her in town beforehand, just in case the rumours about them hadn’t become old news.

  He followed the boys into Woodlea and met them at the Royal Arms. Over a quick beer, he promised to meet them again for a longer drink after harvest. They all then made their way to the old train station that housed the library. It was from here the two horse-drawn carriages left for their Christmas lights tour.

  By now darkness blanketed the hills and the first glimmer of starlight could be seen. Children smiled and cameras flashed as the four waiting horses were treated like celebrities. The first carriage, an open-sided wagon, filled with three eager families. The second carriage, a replica of a Cobb & Co stage coach, offered more privacy as well as seating.

  Denham waved as Freya, Cressy and Fliss walked across the road to the coaches. The first carriage set off, the two horses’ large hooves clopping as it passed by. They all took their places on the waiting stage coach. Tanner sat with the driver, Denham and Cressy on the outside front seat, which left the inside seats for Drew and Freya. He held the door open and she thanked him with a sweet smile as she climbed inside. He joined her on the far seat. The coach jolted into action and as Freya pitched forward she grabbed his leg. He put his arm around her to hold her steady.

  She tucked herself against him, her silken hair caressing his jaw. ‘Don’t let me forget to take a photo for my dad. He’s just sent me one of the horse and carriage ride he went on in Salzburg.’

  Drew nodded as the two draft horses picked up pace and their feet clipped out a steady rhythm. Happiness curved Freya’s mouth as she looked out at the lights decorating the front house yards. He spent as much time watching the delight play across her expressive face as he did the displays.

  Children dressed in Santa hats and pyjamas waved from their driveways or rode scooters along the footpath, racing the horses. Christmas wishes were exchanged as people on the street yelled ‘Happy Christmas’.

  All too soon the horses had completed their loop through town. When the coach rolled to a stop, Freya brushed his mouth with hers. ‘Thank you for coming with me, that was magical.’

  ‘Anytime.’

  If Freya noticed his voice sounded deeper than usual it didn’t show in her expression. He could spend a lifetime looking at Christmas lights with her by his side and it would never be enough.

  As the stage coach emptied, goodbyes were said and car lights lit the way out of town. Drew travelled behind Freya and smiled as she slowed to look at any decorated mailboxes they passed.

  A workman had fed Bailey, Panda and Liberty, so when Drew arrived home there were no jobs to be done. Bailey rushed over to give him and Freya an exuberant welcome and then sprinted off to keep chewing on the bone the workman had given him as an early Christmas present.

  Freya led the way along the garden path. Drew looked away from the sway of her hips beneath her white dress. He didn’t need any reminder of how gorgeous she was. After holding her close in the stage coach he already needed a cold swim if he had any hope of sleeping tonight.

  At the shoe rack Freya bent to collect the spare key from his father’s boot. She opened the door but didn’t walk into the darkened house. Instead she turned to face him. From where he stood on the second step, their eyes were almost level.

  He wasn’t sure what she was about to say, all he knew was that as she stared at him, her lips parted. Awareness sparked between them. He didn’t know who moved first. Her hands were in his hair and her mouth on his even as he pulled her hard against him.

  In her kiss was all the desperation, need and hunger that burned within him. He couldn’t remember when his hands freed her hair or when she’d unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt. He dragged his mouth from hers and cupped her face to look deep into her eyes. She knew what he asked even when no words were said.

  The beauty of her smile and the steady palm she placed on his cheek gave him all the answers he needed. There was no more waiting for a sensible or right time.

  His hands found her waist and as he lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Heart pounding and emotions running riot, he carried her down to his wing of the house.

  Chapter Eight

  As much as Freya liked her dreamy guest bedroom, she liked Drew’s room more. In the days after the Christmas party she only returned to her room to change her clothes. Otherwise she was beside Drew when he woke early and sometimes asleep in his bed when he came back late. He’d agreed to come to Cressy’s for Christmas lunch and was working around the clock to get the last of the wheat off. Today, barring breakdowns, would be the last day of harvest. That would then leave one day until Christmas.

  Freya used a cutter to round the corners of a photograph she’d scanned and copied for the scrapbook open in front of her. With Hattie’s help she was making a memory book for Drew about Brett. She’d gone through Hattie’s photos to find ones where he’d been included and in the living room cupboard had found Drew’s old family albums.

  There’d been pictures of him and Brett as kids holding yabbies and being led on shaggy ponies. As teenagers there were photographs of the pair covered in mud after riding motorbikes and of them wearing big hats while showing cattle at country shows. The later pictures showed them, tall and lanky, with their first utes and wearing big grins as they attended various picnic races. Usually the race photographs pictured them with their arms around different girls, until Sarah became a permanent fixture by Brett’s side. In Drew’s pictures no girl ever appeared twice.

  Freya pasted in the photograph of Sarah holding Hattie with a beaming Brett and smiling Drew behind her. Instead of reaching for the next photograph she checked her phone. Even though the reception was poor where Drew was harvesting, he’d taken to texting her throughout the day. She smiled as she re-read his last text saying this time tomorrow they’d still be in bed.

  No words had been spoken about where they were headed, or what would happen once Freya’s house was fixed. But for all that wasn’t said, there was plenty of non-verbal communication. His kiss made her feel treasured and cared for and his touch made her feel beautiful. When harvest was done there would be plenty of time to talk. If Drew’s grief meant he wasn’t yet ready for a relationship, that was okay, too. She’d waited so long to find him, she’d do whatever it took to ensure they had a future together.

  Her mobile rang and it wasn’t Drew’s name that popped onto the screen, but Edna’s.

  ‘Morning, Edna.’

  ‘Morning. Is now a good time to have a chat?’

  ‘Yes, I’m not doing my Christmas craft class until after lunch.’

  ‘Good.’ Edna’s tone was crisp. ‘Now, it’s been a few days since the Christmas party and I want to know if you’ve made a decision.’

  Freya frowned. ‘Decision … about what?’

  ‘Drew and Tanner.’

  ‘Drew and Tanner?’

  ‘Yes, you can’t have them both and whichever one you don’t choose will still be a perfect man for my Bethany.’

  ‘Edna … again, not that this is any of y
our business … but Tanner and I get on really well … as friends.’

  ‘Well, you looked to be a little more than that at the Christmas party.’

  ‘Only to you. Some advice … let Bethany choose her own husband. He might be the last person you think of but the best person for her.’

  Edna didn’t immediately reply. ‘You chose Drew, didn’t you?’

  Freya sighed. ‘Edna … that’s not up for discussion.’

  ‘Well, I hope you did because he’s the right one for you.’

  Freya blinked. Even knowing that conversations with Edna could take sudden turns, she was taken aback. ‘I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘I’ve always known you’d be the right one for Drew. Just like I knew he’d be a typical stubborn Macgregor who wouldn’t see what was in front of him. Thankfully Macgregors can also be counted on to do the right thing.’

  Freya rubbed at her temple as she processed Edna’s words. No wonder there weren’t any pointed looks at the Christmas party. ‘Edna … there weren’t any rumours, were there? You came over that day to make sure Drew would come to the Christmas party with me.’

  ‘Well, something had to be done. You’re only out there until the new year and it’ll take him that long to take a day off let alone to relax.’

  ‘Edna … thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. You can tell Drew, but otherwise I’d appreciate that this stays our little secret. I have a reputation to uphold.’

  ‘I will … and Edna? I chose Drew just like you knew I would.’

  * * *

  Her phone conversation with Edna stayed with Freya until she reached the corrugated iron Reedy Creek hall. All the time Edna had been meddling and supposedly getting between her and Drew, she’d been matchmaking.

  Freya busied herself setting up for her final craft class. This session they were making Christmas crackers and reindeer food that could be sprinkled over lawns tomorrow night for Christmas Eve.

  The empty chairs were filled and the hall echoed with fun and laughter. Cressy had come with Taylor, the Woodlea hairdresser. Taylor had once been a dancer and had never lost her love for sequins and sparkles. Her Christmas cracker was soon bedazzled with glitter and baubles. Cressy went for the less-is-more approach, with her cracker sporting a simple sprig of handmade mistletoe.

  Freya left her seat to put on the kettle and to arrange the Christmas baking others had brought onto a tray. Cressy came to help her. As the cowgirl opened the container of fruit mince pies she gave Freya a soft smile. ‘You, Freya George, have a … glow.’

  Freya couldn’t stop her instant blush. ‘I suspect I do.’

  Cressy laughed quietly. ‘I’m so pleased for you both. See, I said you were the one.’

  ‘Thanks … but it’s very early days. When harvest’s over we have a few things to talk about.’

  ‘Good luck getting Drew to talk, but I have no doubt this is one time he will.’

  The group had started on their second Christmas cracker when Cressy slid back her chair. She reached into the bag at her feet where her phone must have vibrated.

  She read the screen and glanced at Freya, her expression grave.

  Freya put down the cracker she’d been working on. ‘SES call-out?’

  The tense press of Cressy’s lips didn’t ease as she got to her feet. ‘Not exactly. Denham texted. There’s a fire where Drew’s harvesting. His header’s already been lost.’

  Heart racing, Freya stood.

  Taylor spoke from beside her. ‘Go, I’ll clean up here.’

  ‘And I’ll take Taylor home,’ Zoe’s mother, Kellie, said from across the table.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Movements efficient and faces calm, the rest of the class packed up their craft projects. This wasn’t the first crisis locals had had to face and support each other through.

  Freya grabbed her handbag and followed Cressy outside.

  When they reached their cars, Cressy hugged her. ‘It’s a bad fire, Freya. Go home and wait for Drew there. If you want something to do, cook some meals for the volunteers. Edna will know what to do with them. If I can, I’ll text you updates.’

  Freya hugged her tight. ‘Will do, be safe and tell Denham and Tanner to take care as well.’

  Denham and Tanner were both part of the volunteer rural fire service.

  She checked her phone as she slid behind the wheel but there were no messages or missed calls from Drew. She texted to say she was there for whatever he needed done and then, after hesitating, sent through a red heart emoji.

  She went to start her car when her phone rang. Edna’s name appeared on the screen.

  ‘Hi, Edna, I’m just leaving the hall now.’

  ‘Hi, Freya.’ Edna’s voice was all business. ‘Let’s hope we don’t need you back there cooking meals in the kitchen if this fire turns into an emergency.’

  ‘Let me know if you do.’

  ‘I will. You’re on my list. Freya … Drew will be okay.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  But the closer Freya got to Inglewood and the darker the black smoke billowing into the sky, the more her nerves tightened. If Drew really was okay, why hadn’t she heard from him?

  * * *

  Life hadn’t finished delivering knockout blows when he least expected it.

  Drew took his time opening the ute door. Even though the fire was out and he was back at Inglewood, he could still smell his header and wheat crop burning. The scent clung to his clothes, his skin and his hair and all he could taste was smoke.

  Just like the day Freya arrived, he stayed in the ute seat and stared at the homestead. A bright light shone in the kitchen and said Freya waited up for him. He scraped a blackened hand over the soot and grit on his face. No matter how hard he’d fought the fire over the past hours and no matter how drained he was, the day from hell had one last thing to throw at him.

  Muscles protested as he left the ute to reach for his esky on the trayback. Bailey raced over and he rubbed the kelpie’s soft neck. ‘Just as well you weren’t with me today, buddy, it wasn’t good out there.’

  He continued over to the house that represented the legacy his grandfather and father had created in their fertile corner of the Bell River valley. Drew’s steps dragged. A legacy that his weakness had partially burned to the ground.

  He looked up at the stars. They seemed to have lost their sparkle, just like Freya’s eyes would when he said what he needed to say. Loss barrelled through him and he slowed to prevent himself from swaying.

  He’d only reached the bottom step when the kitchen door flung open. Freya rushed down the steps. Despite being still dressed in jeans and a shirt, her tousled hair and bare feet told him she’d been asleep.

  She flew into his arms and he held her like he’d never let go. He closed his eyes to savour her clean floral scent and the way her soft curves fitted so perfectly against him. His throat thickened. This would be the last time he’d hold her.

  After a long moment she pulled away. ‘You’re okay?’

  Her breathless voice reflected her fear and concern and intensified the anguish thrashing inside him.

  ‘I am. I sent some texts and hoped at least one made it through.’

  ‘Your last one did saying the fire was out. Cressy sent some too.’

  Freya settled her arm around his waist and walked with him up the veranda steps. ‘Hungry?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Coffee or a beer?’

  ‘No … thanks.’

  She left his side to walk through the doorway and her quick assessment of his face said she’d heard his brittle tone. She took the esky from his grasp and placed it on the bench before turning to unbutton his shirt. ‘It’s a shower then.’

  He covered her hand to keep her fingers still. An aching heaviness settled deep into his bones. He owed Freya nothing but honesty.

  ‘Freya … the fire was my fault. I got … distracted.’ His words emerged as little more than a ho
arse croak.

  She slid her hand out from beneath his to touch his whiskered cheek. ‘Accidents happen. Harvest’s a high risk time. The fire could have happened on any farm.’

  ‘It didn’t. It happened on my farm, on my watch, when I was driving the header. I’ve been working on harvests since a teenager. I have the experience and the knowledge to prevent a fire from starting let alone getting out of hand.’

  Freya stayed silent, her eyes never leaving his.

  ‘The hydraulic hose split, spilling oil over the engine … I didn’t react as fast as I should have.’ Bitterness rasped his voice. ‘Even with steering the header into the stubble and having the fire fighting trailer right there, I couldn’t contain the flames. The wind changed at a crucial moment.’

  Freya’s hand lowered, signalling she’d realised there was more going on than him just decompressing after a crisis.

  ‘You’re only human and humans get … distracted.’

  He didn’t meet her eyes. The passing of time hadn’t eased his loss or his guilt at being the reason his parents were no longer with him.

  ‘Well … every time I lose focus … bad things happen. I was supposed to be home in time to inspect those cattle on the coast but thanks to a night out with a pretty blonde I wasn’t. My parents should never have been flying through that storm.’

  Compassion softened Freya’s mouth. ‘Drew … you were young and the storm was something out of your control.’

  He speared a hand through his dusty hair. ‘Well, I’m not young now and that fire was something I could control.’

  Freya stilled. ‘You were thinking about me, weren’t you? That’s why you were distracted.’

  He cleared his throat, knowing there was no going back from his answer. ‘Yes … which is why there can be no … future for us. I put people’s lives at risk today, my workmen, the rural fire service volunteers. When I’m not totally focused on Inglewood, I’m nothing but a liability.’

  Freya’s expression didn’t change but her eyes turned a deep, bruised grey. ‘My mother used to say you should always sleep on a big decision. Things will look different in the morning.’