‘Here’s a surprise to open when you’re home.’
Quinn gave a sleepy nod while Lizzie blew him a tired kiss.
Ava’s expression was thankful as she hugged Hewitt goodbye.
He held his mother close. ‘Say hi to Dad and tell him I’ll be home in about a month.’
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
Hewitt waved them off, a cold weight constricting his chest. But as he left town, with Garnet in the horse float behind him, a growing sense of hope eased his strain. For the first time since they’d buried Brody, he’d had time on his own. For the first time since a part of him had also died in the rodeo arena, he’d had space to truly grieve.
The lightness and anticipation within him intensified when he reached Bundara and unloaded Garnet into the round yard. Even though afternoon shadows cast long shapes on the lawn, there was still time to climb the ridge before sunset. When the mare realised the saddle and bridle Hewitt carried over were for her, she tossed her head and side-stepped.
‘This will be a slow and steady ride,’ he said as he sat the saddle on the top rail, ‘so don’t get too excited.’ As he entered the yard Garnet came straight over to him. He slipped the snaffle bit into her mouth and eased the leather headpiece into place behind her ears. He smoothed a hand along the scars on her shoulder from her battle with the rodeo bull. ‘But it will be the first of many.’
Any doubts that he was doing the wrong thing dissolved the moment he slid into the saddle. The creak of leather and the happy flicker of Garnet’s ears confirmed he was where he should be. He could feel the tense, tight line of his shoulders easing.
Curious cows raised their heads as they rode through the carpeted paddocks to where the pastures ended and the gum trees thickened. Hewitt allowed Garnet to pick her own pace as they negotiated the steep slope that would take them to the top of the ridge.
The valley fell away, the blue of the sky faded and when the first blush of the sunset painted the horizon, Hewitt pulled Garnet to a stop.
He rubbed her neck. ‘We’re here.’
He slid to the ground and took a seat on a hewn piece of granite. Garnet came to stand beside him. The cold of the rock chilled him and the air nipped at his skin, but he stayed still.
Silence shrouded them. Colour embraced them. Light burst across the sky in brilliant swathes of gold, orange and pink. The sun slowly descended.
Hewitt filled his mind with happy memories of his twin. As the sun lowered from sight, he rasped the words, ‘Goodbye, Brody.’
CHAPTER
9
The cheerful warble of a magpie perched in the old fir tree at Claremont welcomed Fliss back to the bush.
‘Meredith, you make the best hot chocolate.’ She took an appreciative sip from her mug decorated with cheerful red poppies. A gentle country breeze blew around her, untainted by city fumes.
‘Thanks.’ Meredith lowered herself into the wrought-iron seat opposite Fliss and sat a plate of coconut and lemon slice on the outdoor table. ‘Sorry I don’t have any more jam drops. I was sure I’d left some in the freezer before we left for Sydney.’
‘I’m sure you did, but if Phil or Tanner are addicted to them like I am, it’s no wonder you can’t find any.’
Meredith’s blue eyes grew soft. For years she had baked for everyone but the son she never knew and the man she’d loved from afar. Now that Denham lived at Glenmore with Cressy, Claremont was the home of Meredith and Phil and sometimes Tanner, when he wasn’t out droving.
Fliss looked around the extensive park-like garden that had weathered drought, fire and locust plagues. Many of her mother’s cuttings, which she’d shared with Denham’s mother Audrey, continued to flourish in the carefully tended beds. Meredith, Audrey and her mother Ruth had met in their early twenties in Sydney and their bonds had deepened when they’d moved out west. Fliss still remembered the laughter that would come from the tennis court when the three friends would spend the morning playing tennis.
She reached for a piece of slice. ‘This is just what I need before I head to Bundara.’
‘It’s been a busy and emotional time. It was a huge job going through Jean’s things but I’m glad we did as it would have been too much for Lewis.’
‘You’re right. I’ve never seen him so quiet and withdrawn. Do you think he’ll be okay?’
‘It’ll just take time. He’s a strong man but he’s been by Jean’s side for over thirty years.’
‘And you’ve known him for that long too?’
‘Longer.’ Meredith took a piece of slice. ‘He was one of the first people I met when I lived with Audrey’s family. He used to mow their lawns as a way to put himself through university.’
Fliss examined Meredith’s beautiful, ageless face, a face that had once earned her the title of Miss Woodlea Showgirl. ‘Didn’t you also meet my mother while you were in Sydney?’
‘I did but not until I’d been there for quite a while. Her family had a house on the beach that I used to walk along. One day her cocker spaniel escaped and I found him down by the rock pools. I never really got to know her well until she married your father and moved to Glenmore.’
Fliss took another sip of her hot chocolate.
‘I’ve been through all of Mum’s scrapbooks and photo albums and there isn’t anything to link her to any man other than Dad.’
Meredith sighed. ‘I know. I’ve been racking my brain to think back but she never mentioned anything about seeing anyone in Sydney. Her parents were very strict and that was something we had in common.’ Meredith paused. ‘Actually, perhaps she was seeing someone. I think your mother knew I was pregnant even though I didn’t show for a long time. Sometimes, when we’d walk along the beach, she’d have this intense look on her face when she’d glance at my stomach. I used to think she was shocked but maybe there was another reason. Maybe the look was one of … longing?’
Fliss leaned forwards to cover Meredith’s hand with hers. ‘Thank you. This is the first clue, or even half a clue, I’ve had. Mum moved out here after she was married and since she must have only just been pregnant with me before her wedding, my father had to have come from her Sydney life.’
‘Exactly.’ Meredith squeezed Fliss’s hand. ‘You keep working with your DNA matches and I’ll keep thinking.’
The white wooden bridge rattled as Fliss drove over the timber planks. The water flow below remained swollen and elevated but no longer was the bridge in danger of being flooded. Every morning at Lewis’s she’d checked the Woodlea weather forecast. Her worry would spike until she saw there would be no rain. The prospect of driving home on the wet red dirt roads had made her stomach churn.
The mailbox flashed by and she was over the cattle grid, through the now dry dip in the road and driving up to the farmhouse. A farmhouse she no longer considered as merely a place to live but as … home. Somewhere along the way, it had stopped being just a haven and a place to heal, and had perhaps become her future.
She slowed to appreciate the last of the sunlight as it streamed over the purple wisteria that climbed the tank stand. The white blossoms on the tree near the car port had almost finished and as she watched a breeze dispersed the tiny petals so they floated to the ground like snowflakes. She left her car and headed straight for where Molly sat at the garden gate surrounded by six plump puppies.
She eased herself through the small gate, making sure no one escaped. ‘Hello, Miss Molly.’ She patted the border collie who wriggled closer. ‘Look how much your babies have grown.’
Then, uncaring of her tailored black trousers, Fliss sat on the lawn. Molly lay down beside her. Soon puppies were clambering over Fliss’s legs, chewing the bottom of her heels and burrowing under her arms. She laughed as a small wet nose kissed her chin.
‘You guys are going to be the biggest time wasters. How am I going to get any DNA stuff done with you to play with?’
Hewitt’s deep chuckle sounded. ‘Now that’s what I call a welcome committee.’
She went to reply but quickly closed her mouth as a puppy licked her face.
He spoke again. ‘Maybe welcoming committee wasn’t the right description, maybe assault team would be better. Here …’
She focused on the tanned hand he extended to help her. With a puppy trying to eat her hair, she wrapped her hand around Hewitt’s strong wrist and he pulled her upright.
Their eyes locked. It wasn’t the heat of his skin, or how effortlessly he’d hauled her to her feet, that held her still, but how different he looked. With his hair cropped short, she had an uninhibited view of his moulded cheekbones, the firm angle of his jaw and the pure grey of his eyes.
Realising she was staring, and still holding on to him, she slid her hand free. He couldn’t have missed how fast her heart was racing.
‘Thanks. Sitting on the ground wasn’t one of my better ideas.’
‘The puppies thought it was.’
There was a raw huskiness to his words but that could have been wishful thinking.
Hewitt picked up a second puppy that had latched onto Fliss’s hem. ‘I’ll take everyone to the shed so we can get your bags to the house in peace.’
Fliss rubbed Molly’s ears in farewell before the border collie and her pups followed Hewitt to the shed like he was the pied piper.
Fliss returned to her car. Over in the machinery shed a silver-and-white horse float was parked next to the quad bike. She looked around. A glossy bay horse grazed near the cluster of yellow wattles in the creek paddock.
She turned to Hewitt as he joined her at the boot of her car. ‘You’re a pickup rider with a horse again?’
‘I am. Ava, the twins and my mother brought Garnet over yesterday.’
‘Have you been for a ride?’
‘Yes, last night to the top of the ridge.’
Fliss studied the rugged granite outcrops rising above the timbered hills. ‘The view must have been spectacular.’
‘It was.’
Her attention returned to the man beside her. The seriousness she associated with Hewitt appeared to have lessened. There was a lightness to his smile and the lines beside his mouth weren’t so defined. Seeing his family, and riding Garnet again, seemed to have taken the edge off his grief and made him happier. The life he’d once had was slowly being pieced back together. As pleased as she was for him she couldn’t stifle a surge of loss.
‘Do I need to put my Dr Fliss hat on? Just because your shoulder feels better doesn’t mean it isn’t still broken. If I sent you for an x-ray there’d still be a visible fracture line.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
Hewitt reached for her bag. The amused glint in his eyes did more damage than if he’d flashed her another grin. It was impossible to be around him and remain unmoved. It wasn’t just her exhaustion rendering her vulnerable. The emotions hovering close to the surface made her realise just how glad she was to see him and how empty Bundara would feel when he was gone.
‘I’m serious, Hewitt.’
Her words emerged sharper than she’d intended. Embarrassed heat flooded her face.
His fingers touched her hair. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, tone gentle and eyes dark. ‘I’ll be careful.’
His hand lowered and she saw a small white petal that blew away in the breeze.
Hewitt bent to pick up her bags and she lost sight of his face. ‘How about we take these inside and I’ll fill you in on all of the news. Cressy’s coming over for an early dinner. You’re now the owner of a fire pit and we thought we’d christen it tonight.’
Fliss nodded and relaxed. Hewitt had given her exactly what she needed: something to focus on other than what was going on between them.
When they walked through the garden she discovered more changes than just the metal fire pit sitting on the paved area in front of the old brick wall. New window panes gleamed and the front screen door no longer drooped.
‘Thanks for everything you’ve done,’ she said as Hewitt held the door open. ‘I really appreciate your help getting Bundara in shape.’ She pressed her lips together before she said something more personal. It wasn’t only her home he’d had a profound effect on.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. ‘Anytime.’
She walked through the doorway to hide how much she’d missed seeing the white flash of his grin.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’ she said over her shoulder as he followed her inside.
‘Thanks.’ He set her cases down in the hallway. ‘I spent the day in Denham’s shed and missed my usual afternoon coffee.’
As he accompanied her into the kitchen, Fliss drew a silent, steadying breath. This was the first time they’d been alone together in her home. But instead of feeling anxious or awkward, having Hewitt in her personal space felt comfortable, safe. She busied herself making a coffee and a pot of tea. When they were seated on opposite sides of the kitchen table, Hewitt filled her in on what Ella had discovered.
‘It turns out Molly’s owners were away. Their daughter and her young family had been looking after Molly and the other dog, Max. Three weeks ago, when they went to let them off, they were gone. Apparently there’s been a few thefts of valuable working dogs.’
‘Please tell me Max has been found? Is he the father of the puppies?’
‘No, he hasn’t been, and yes, he’s their father.’
‘Could Max be around here somewhere?’
‘The police believe so. The theory is that Molly escaped from wherever she was taken and Max is still there.’
‘I hope they find him soon.’ Fliss paused and stared at her untouched tea. She dreaded knowing the answer to what she was about to ask. ‘So now Molly’s owners have been located, when are they coming to get her?’
‘The daughter has passed on photos of Molly and the puppies to her parents who are still overseas. They’ve completed the paperwork to prove Molly’s their dog but have asked if we could keep them all a little longer so the puppies will be better able to travel.’
Fliss smiled. ‘That’s more than okay with me.’
‘That’s what Ella thought. They’ll be here for at least another three weeks. If Max is still missing, the owners plan to come and search for him.’
‘Three more weeks …’
Even though it was a relief not to be saying goodbye to Molly and her babies straight away, Fliss couldn’t keep the sorrow from her voice.
‘That will give you plenty of time to be mobbed.’
She thought Hewitt was going to say something further but then he came to his feet, his coffee unfinished. The line of his shoulders appeared rigid. ‘That’s Cressy’s ute. I’d better rustle up some dry firewood.’
Hewitt fed the fragile flames in the fire pit with thin pieces of kindling. Never had he been so pleased to see Cressy than when she bounded up the Bundara veranda steps. He couldn’t trust himself alone with Fliss.
The simple act of helping her to her feet when she’d arrived had been a mistake. He should have known better than to touch her. He’d felt far more than a physical connection when they’d joined hands. He’d felt her fragility, strength and the beat of her pulse down to his bones. Even with shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes, he’d never seen her look more beautiful.
He’d thought the worst was over. He’d seen her and could now let the intensity of her homecoming fade to a safe and casual companionship. Then she’d sat across the kitchen table from him, sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to Molly dimming the warmth in her smile, and he’d been just as lost. He’d had to leave the kitchen before he said or did something he and Fliss would both regret.
He stared at the growing fire. Like the flames engulfing the wood before him, his feelings for Fliss continued to incinerate his self-control. So until he could refocus and get himself back behind the line he shouldn’t ever have crossed, he had to somehow stay strong.
‘Your fire pit looks fabulous. Can I put in an order for one?’
He turned at the sound of Cressy’s voice.
He hoped the twinkle in her eyes wasn’t because she’d twigged he’d spent the day welding in Denham’s man-cave to distract himself from wondering when Fliss would be home.
‘Thanks. Tell Denham I owe him some checker plate next trip to Woodlea. I’ll get double so I can make you one.’
Cressy sat a basket of fresh bread rolls and a bottle of tomato sauce on the new outdoor table that sat on a stand he’d also welded.
‘I’ll put in an order for one of these too,’ she said, running a hand over the recycled old door.
‘Order taken.’ Hewitt unfolded three camp chairs and placed them in a circle in front of the fire pit. ‘I just need to work on the seating part of Fliss’s outdoor entertainment area.’
Cressy sat in the closest chair and Molly came and flopped beside her. Fliss walked across the lawn carrying a tray of sausages and three long metal forks. She wore jeans, boots and a long-sleeved pink shirt. Her hair had been twisted on top of her head, but wisps escaped to fall around her face.
Cressy smiled at her sister. ‘Enjoy your neat garden while it lasts. You’ll have nothing but chewing, noise and wrestling ahead of you for the next three weeks.’
Fliss sat the sausages and forks on the table. ‘I can’t wait.’
Cressy took a long look at Fliss. ‘You know you’ll get covered in dog hair, puppy slobber and everything will be annihilated, from your garden pots to your shoes.’
Fliss sat in the middle chair. ‘I still can’t wait.’
‘Who are you? And where’s my real sister?’
Fliss’s soft, contented laughter rippled across Hewitt’s arms like goose bumps. ‘The neat control freak is still here … I’m just taking a step outside my comfort zone.’
‘Good on you.’ Cressy’s words were heartfelt.
Darkness wrapped around them and glimmers of starlight appeared overhead. The sausages were cooked, followed by the marshmallows. An easy silence settled amongst them, only broken by the pop of wood and the chirp of crickets.
The Red Dirt Road Page 12
