Under Christmas Stars

by Alissa Callen

  He stared through the window to where it would only be hours until the grey of dawn lightened the horizon. ‘No. They won’t.’

  His bleak words fell into the strain between them.

  ‘I understand why you feel like you do. I also know that your grief at losing your parents and Brett and Sarah is still raw, but Drew, tomorrow is a new day. I’m not accepting your decision until you’ve had a shower and a sleep.’ She turned to flick on the kettle and he didn’t miss the way her fingers shook. ‘And caffeine.’

  He crossed the room to draw her against him. She wrapped her arms tight around him and buried her face against his ruined shirt. He kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Freya … I’m so sorry. Being careless with your feelings and hurting you is the last thing I ever intended to do.’ He stopped, his words failing him.

  Now wasn’t the time to tell her how much he loved her. He had to sacrifice his own happiness to keep her safe.

  The only thing worse than being responsible for sending his parents into a killer storm would be allowing something bad to happen to the only woman he’d ever want. Every time he looked at Hattie he was reminded that no matter how much Brett had loved Sarah, he hadn’t been able to protect her.

  Chapter Nine

  Freya awoke in her own bed in the guest room to a single thought. She couldn’t lose Drew. She’d wasted so much time with the wrong man, she wasn’t letting the right one slip away.

  Light poured in through the gap in the curtains. Somehow she must have fallen asleep. She pressed a hand to her midriff to still her nerves. The silence that surrounded her meant Drew had already returned to harvesting. Tonight was Christmas Eve and Drew would be focused on finishing so his workmen could be with their families.

  She headed for the shower. She refused to pack her bags and leave. Her chin lifted. She also wasn’t going to sit around powerless and voiceless. She had a cattleman to see.

  When they had their after-harvest talk, she’d expected Drew’s grief to retain a fierce hold. The social youth revealed by his old photographs showed he wasn’t a naturally reserved man; the losses in his life had made him that way. But she hadn’t expected there to be no future for them. She’d hoped there would have been a way through whatever barriers stood between them. And there would be. She just had to find it.

  Once dressed in a sleeveless blue dress, she headed for the kitchen to grab her car keys from the bowl on the side bench. With the tension roiling in her stomach, breakfast was out of the question.

  After finding a pen and paper in a kitchen drawer, she called Cressy.

  ‘Hi, Freya, everything okay?’ The cowgirl’s husky voice suggested she’d only just woken up.

  ‘Sorry … I shouldn’t be calling this early, I know you were up late, but I need directions to Drew’s other farm. I have to see him.’

  ‘Everything’s not okay, is it?’ Cressy’s voice was clearer, more awake.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay. Give me half an hour and I’ll drive you there. I need to visit Fliss and it’s not much of a drive from there. Freya … hang in there. Everything will be fine.’

  * * *

  As Freya sat in the passenger seat of Denham’s ute, the pounding at her temples said she didn’t share Cressy’s optimism.

  Cressy smiled across at her. ‘You’re doing the right thing. The longer Drew has to think, the more his stubbornness will kick in and he’ll retreat behind that workaholic wall of his.’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’

  ‘He has plenty of workmen so he’ll be able to take a break when you arrive. If he’s back on the header again, a rest will do him good.’

  The scent of the charred ground drifted into the ute cabin. Freya’s heart ached as they drove through a flat black landscape devoid of foliage and life. Smoke drifted from the thick corner post of a fence that had been cut to let the rural fire engines access the flames.

  Cressy again looked at her. ‘It was a fast fire but no wildlife or stock were injured and apart from Drew’s header, no other machinery lost.’ She nodded over to their right where a header and chaser bin moved through a wheat paddock. ‘See, thanks to Drew having a second header, it’s business as usual.’

  The cowgirl pulled up alongside a Hilux parked beside Drew’s farm ute. She nodded towards the man who sat behind the wheel. ‘That’s old Saul. He used to work for Drew’s father so has known Drew all his life. He’ll make sure you have a chance to talk to him.’ She reached over to squeeze Freya’s hands that were clasped tightly in her lap. ‘I’ll be back soon but if you need me earlier give me a call.’

  ‘Thanks. Will do.’

  Freya left the cool air-conditioning to walk towards where the older man spoke on the handpiece of a UHF radio. Heat engulfed her, burning her bare arms and legs. Cressy honked her horn as she left and Freya turned to wave.

  Saul opened the ute door and climbed out to greet her. A smile lit up his craggy features. ‘You must be Freya. Thanks for all the cakes and slices you’ve been sending for morning smoko.’ He patted his ample belly. ‘They were much appreciated.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Sorry I didn’t bring any this morning. I just came to … talk to Drew. He doesn’t know I’m coming.’

  Saul’s faded blue eyes flicked between the header to their left and Freya. ‘I’m glad you’re here. He’s been walking around like a horse with a burr under its saddle blanket ever since he arrived.’ Saul winked. ‘Have you ever been on a header?’

  ‘No, I can’t say I have.’

  ‘Great.’ He looked down at her sensible wedges. ‘I see you came prepared. Hop in.’

  While Freya walked around the front of the ute Saul again spoke on the UHF radio.

  She slid into the dusty ute seat and Saul started the engine.

  He grinned. ‘Now don’t take any nonsense from that young Macgregor. I want to retire but I can’t do that when he’s determined to work himself into an early grave.’

  Despite the nerves drying her mouth, Freya returned Saul’s smile. ‘I promise. I won’t.’

  ‘Good.’

  At the end of the wheat row the header briefly stopped and the door opened. As she left the ute, Saul gave her a thumbs up. All Drew said as she clambered up the header steps and into the spare seat was, ‘Hold on.’

  She nodded as the header turned.

  The rhythmic sound of wheat being stripped filled the cabin as the header followed a straight line. Beside them a tractor pulled a chaser bin in which the unloading auger directed a steady flow of golden grain.

  Freya examined the grave cast of Drew’s profile. It didn’t matter if the reserved man she’d first met had returned, she’d find a way to reach him.

  She spoke into the tension. ‘So what’s this do?’ She pointed to a small computer screen.

  Drew explained and as she asked more questions about the technology and equipment he used, the tense line of his shoulders lowered.

  A third of a way along the row, two falcons dipped and dived in front of the header. The birds’ shadows almost made it look like there were four of them.

  ‘What are they after?’ she asked, leaning forwards to peer through the window.

  ‘Quails or maybe a rabbit.’

  The birds soon disappeared and then it was a kangaroo that bounded out of the way of the header.

  A brief smile shaped Drew’s mouth. ‘It’s all happening. Now all we need to see are feral pigs and emus.’

  When they were almost at the end of the row, Drew spoke into his UHF radio. ‘Saul, can you take over? I’m going to run Freya home.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Freya glanced at the muscle that worked in Drew’s jaw as he lowered the UHF handpiece. ‘Cressy said she’ll take me home. We could sit in the shade and talk until she gets here?’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s too hot out there for you. We can … talk on the way.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Okay.
I’ll text Cressy.’

  Freya’s fingers weren’t quite steady as she typed. The fact Drew was worried about her being in the heat didn’t usher in any sense of hope. He didn’t again look at her or speak.

  The strain between them deepened when they headed for home in his ute. Drew’s knuckles shone white on the steering wheel and the roomy cabin suddenly seemed too small.

  She settled back into her seat. She was determined to finish what she’d started.

  ‘Thanks for taking me home.’

  He took a long moment to answer and when he did his bleak voice sounded as though it had come from a dark, deep place inside him. ‘Freya … I’m sorry about last night. But as much as I wish it wasn’t true … things don’t look any different this morning.’

  She kept her expression calm and her reply composed. ‘I knew they wouldn’t. That’s why I’m here.’

  He shot her a quick glance.

  Freya waited until they’d entered the charred remains of his wheat crop before speaking again. ‘I think this is the place where we need to talk. Can you please pull over?’

  To her relief, Drew did as she asked. He left the ute running so the air-conditioner would keep them cool.

  ‘Drew … what happened here wasn’t your fault. It was just bad luck the wind changed. The fire getting away could have happened to anybody.’

  His mouth compressed as he focused on the grey and twisted metal that had been his old header.

  If Drew wasn’t going to talk, she would. She unclipped her seatbelt so she could face him. ‘You thinking about other things besides Inglewood shows you’re human and that there’s things missing from your life. You can’t let your grief continue to shut everyone and everything out, because the reality is then you’re only living a half life. And I think deep down you know that.’

  He waved a hand towards the desolation that carved a black swathe in the paddock before them. ‘This is the reality of my life, especially when I don’t stay focused.’

  She didn’t look away from him. ‘No, it isn’t. Your life could be so much more, even when bad things happen. Do you think your mother and father, and even Brett and Sarah, would want you to grow old at Inglewood, alone and isolated, working yourself into a shadow?’

  Drew didn’t reply. His hands fisted where they rested on his thighs.

  She spoke into the tense silence. ‘What we have is real, special, and I’m not leaving, no matter how much you push me away.’ She ignored her fears she couldn’t breach the wall between them. She wasn’t quitting until she found a way in. ‘Drew … nothing’s going to happen to me.’

  The deepening of the grooves beside his mouth and the torment in his eyes said her suspicions about why he pushed her away could be right.

  She placed her hand on his forearm. He didn’t move. ‘I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much loss, but cutting me out of your life isn’t going to keep me safe. The safest I’ll ever be is right by the side of the man I love and I hope cares for me.’ The muscles of his arm jerked beneath her touch. ‘Together we can look out for each other and handle anything that life throws our way.’

  Drew didn’t respond at first. Then he moved. His hands tangled in her hair and his mouth sought hers. The tender sweep of his lips and the shudder of his strong body told her she’d finally reached him. He deepened the kiss until their breathing grew ragged. When they drew apart to breathe, he rested his forehead against hers.

  ‘I love you, Freya George. You’re all I think about. You’re the only thing I need in my life. If I lost you too …’

  She silenced him with another kiss.

  When they again parted, he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. ‘This obsession with finishing things that you start, is it going to appear often?’

  ‘Only when it comes to Christmas and making sure you live the full and complete life you deserve.’

  He grinned, happiness turning his eyes a pure, deep blue. ‘In that case I think we’d better head home.’

  She smiled and laced her fingers with his. ‘Here I was thinking you had a header to drive?’

  He stole a heady kiss before replying. ‘Saul told me I wasn’t allowed back until I’d been well and truly distracted.’

  Epilogue

  After the heat of Christmas Day, the cool change that breezed through on Boxing Day brought welcome relief. Though still hot enough to swim, it was cool enough to sit beneath the shade as the sun descended.

  Freya carried a tray of watermelon outside to place on the large outdoor table she’d found in the shed. After wearing her special red dress to Christmas lunch at Cressy’s the day before, she now wore a casual halter-neck black dress. Christmas at Glenmore had been so enjoyable, Drew had invited everyone around to Inglewood for a Boxing Day swim and barbecue.

  The homestead that had stood silent and empty for so long now echoed with life and laughter. She smiled as she returned inside and the shimmer of tinsel greeted her. She’d already started planning what decorations she’d put up next year for when her father and sister joined her and Drew for Christmas.

  When her house was again habitable, she’d live in Reedy Creek during the school week and then spend weekends and holidays at Inglewood. Hattie had visited on Christmas Eve to sprinkle sparkly reindeer food on the lawn and to open her presents. After she’d gone Drew had wrapped his arms around Freya and they’d stayed up late talking about a trip to Canada to see his extended family. Her smile grew as happiness bloomed inside. It had been agreed that such a trip would also make a perfect honeymoon.

  She reached for the cheese platter on the island bench and when Hattie squealed she looked towards the pool. Tanned skin flashed as Denham played against Hattie and Drew in volleyball. Hattie sat on top of Drew’s shoulders and her wide smile as she threw the ball over the net said that while there had been tears, her Christmas had also been filled with love.

  Tanner had declined to participate in the volleyball match and instead manned the barbecue on the corner of the veranda. His awkwardness around little Hattie explained his reluctance to join in the fun. Freya could only hope he’d soon meet someone who’d help him overcome his fear of babies and small children. As for his fear of Edna, that would only be resolved when she crossed him off her potential-son-in-law list. Going by the invitation he’d earlier received to attend their Boxing Day celebrations, such a thing wasn’t happening anytime soon.

  Freya took the cheese platter over to where Fliss, Cressy and Ella sat discussing wedding plans. From the loneliness Ella failed to hide, Freya sensed that her relationship with Drew had proved to the vet that it was possible to find happiness again after heartbreak. Freya was certain one day Ella too would find someone who’d make her want to risk opening up her heart again.

  Bailey lay beside Cressy, his eyes glazing over as the cowgirl rubbed his stomach with her boot. Over in the pony paddock, the waning sunlight caught in Panda’s fancy red Christmas head collar. He hadn’t been as impressed with his reindeer ears. Liberty continued to improve and neighed for carrots and apples whenever Hattie visited.

  Tanner grinned from over near the barbecue. ‘These steaks are almost done. What would you like to cook next?’

  ‘The kebabs, thanks. They won’t take long. I’ll just get them.’

  She returned inside. The footsteps on the floorboards warned her before an arm snagged her waist and pulled her close to a bare, wet chest. She smiled as Drew’s mouth covered hers.

  She’d arrived in the bush, alone and bruised, only to discover a community that embraced her and a red earth landscape she felt at home in. Her hands curled around Drew’s neck. But most of all, under Christmas stars she’d fallen for a man who didn’t need any festive mistletoe to show her how much he loved her.

  Turn over for a sneak peek

  THE LONG PADDOCK

  Alissa Callen

  Available now

  Chapter One

  The kelpie population of small town Woodlea might outnumber the locals two-to-one, b
ut it seemed as though every man—and their dog—was in town today.

  Cressida Knight rounded the corner to walk along Main Street. Rows of dusty vehicles huddled beneath the shade of leafy plane trees. Dogs slept on the back of utes or strained at their leashes to make new friends. Cressy bit back a smile. If Mrs Knox didn’t stop chatting to Mrs Mills soon, the next lot of puppies from her prizewinning poodle would be more pig-dog than pedigree.

  Cressy lengthened her stride and walked into the long shadow cast by the two-storey pub. The historic Royal Arms never seemed to age. The white wrought-iron trim gleamed in the late-afternoon sunlight just like it had when she was a child strolling by holding her grandfather’s calloused hand. Loss crawled through her, making her feel wooden and heavy. Her feet dragged. The simplicity of her childhood hadn’t followed her into adulthood.

  Animated chatter wafted with the smell of beer from the open doorway. The local grapevine was in overdrive. Everyone had just one thing on their mind. Denham Rigby. But however much the town held its collective breath for the first sighting of its favourite son, she had to appear unaffected. She’d worked hard to strip the past of its power to hurt her. Denham would soon arrive to attend his mother’s funeral but today was just like any other day.

  She pulled the brim of her State Emergency Services cap lower to hide her face. Once past the pub she’d enter the social hub of Main Street where locals dawdled between the grocery store and newsagency. She’d drawn the genetic short-straw, missing the height gene as well as the gene that gifted her sister with a darker complexion. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t always prevent her pale skin from blushing and revealing her thoughts. She loved the warmth of small town life but her feelings weren’t always for public consumption.

  She waved at Mrs Higgins, who sat in front of the craft store behind a trestle table on which perched a painting of a Black Angus cow by a local artist. The town’s committee was busy fundraising for the restoration of the church bell in the historic Anglican Church. Time might have eroded the mountings of the iconic bell but not the devotion of its congregation. Mrs Higgins returned Cressy’s wave and gave a subtle nod towards something behind her.