Beneath Outback Skies (20 page)

She stirred, uncurled her legs and raised her hands to the car roof to unkink her back. His mouth dried as her breasts strained against her dress and the fourth button worked itself free.

Her arms lowered and she reached over to settle a hand on his thigh.

‘You’re not feeling too tired?’ she asked, concern in her voice.

‘Nope. Doing just fine.’

She grinned the same mischievous grin she’d flashed him after her shower – when he’d
encircled her waist and slipped a hand beneath her short bath robe.

‘Great.’ She inched her hand up his thigh, squeezing as she went. He scooped up her fingers before she could do any more damage.

‘Hands off, country girl. At this rate we won’t even reach Banora Downs by dinner.’ They both knew it wouldn’t be possible to stop and still reach Banora Downs in time for the welcome-home lunch Anne and Connor had prepared.

She smiled again and her fingers rested on his thigh.

‘You know, our night doesn’t have to end when we get home,’ he said.

Her fingers twitched. ‘Yes, it does. I know what’s on offer and I don’t want to be like the other women in your life who want something more.’

He took a second to answer. ‘I can’t offer more than I have. But … I’m hoping things will change.’

She looked at him but he didn’t return her gaze. His secret had to hold firm.

‘What are you saying?’

‘To be honest, I don’t really know.’ He pretended to concentrate on the empty road. ‘All I know is that I’m working on not being so busy.’

Her fingers slipped from his and he felt her withdrawal as keenly as if she’d pushed him away.

‘We have to be sensible about this. Apart from the fact you’ll soon be leaving, we’re both committed to our different worlds. Once we cross the cattle grid into Banora Downs, I’ll have Connor and a farm to take care of and the moment you take your phone off silent you’ll have a voicemail full of calls to answer.’

‘Stranger things have happened than our two worlds meeting.’

She laughed but it was forced. ‘That would only be a possibility if you moved out here and I wouldn’t ever ask you to leave everything you’ve ever known behind.’

He tensed. Keeping his secret from the woman he loved was becoming harder and harder. It was as though he were entangled in a net and whichever way he turned he entwined himself further. ‘Just think about it,’ he managed. ‘Who knows what changes in our lives the future will bring?’

Her shoulders slumped as she looked out the side window at the dusty, battle-scarred landscape. ‘I’d settle for rain.’

He took her hand in his once more and a heavy silence settled between them. The closer they drew to Banora Downs the more the harsh spectre of the drought intruded. They sped past a tall, metal mailbox shaped like an emu.

‘I keep meaning to stop and take a photo of that mailbox on my phone,’ he said, trying to distract her from the desiccated landscape through which they drove. ‘Next time.’

She nodded absently. The hire car approached a crumbling dry-stone wall flanking a cattle grid. Despite the absence of any mailbox the avenue of mature, pale-trunked gum trees heading away from the grid indicated that once such a grand entrance would have featured an impressive mailbox. Paige turned to look at the line of parallel trees as they passed.

‘If you like mailboxes you would have liked Killora Downs’ old one.’

He carefully let go of her fingers.

‘Really? What was it like?’

‘It was a tractor my grandfather helped Ross Sinclair weld together. When I was little I’d look at the photographs in the albums and think I could drive it like a real one.’

‘It sounds great. What happened to it?’

‘I have no idea but seeing no one has lived at Killora Downs for an eternity, I’m guessing the tractor could have been stolen or simply fallen apart.’

‘What a shame.’

‘I know. We haven’t always had our plain milk-can letter box. Grandpa and Ross also
made one for Banora Downs of a vintage car.’

‘That sounds fitting.’

‘Yes. It was. Just like you and Dad, that was one thing Grandpa and Connor had in common, cars.’

‘Obviously, we all have great taste.’

She pulled a face. ‘Anyway, some local yahoos mustn’t have shared your taste as one morning Dad says Mum went to collect the mail and found the car blown to smithereens.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘No. Whatever they’d used the car was beyond repair, so Dad put up the milk-can from out of the shed.’

Tait slowed the hire car as the milk-can mailbox came into sight.

‘Paige,’ he turned to look at her, ‘I’m serious about you thinking about “us”.’

‘What we shared last night …’ Colour tinged her cheeks.

He grinned despite the tension gripping him. ‘And this morning,’ he added.

Her blush deepened. ‘Okay,
and
this morning … was … wonderful but we know it has to come to an end. If we hold onto false hope, it will only end up hurting us.’

‘False hope works for me.’

‘Tait, please don’t do this. You know I don’t make a habit of getting involved with city boys – actually, for that matter country boys – so it will be hard enough as it is to say goodbye. Don’t make it any more difficult.’

‘If I could, I’d stay.’ He swallowed past the emotion deepening his words. ‘But at the moment I’m not free.’ He caught her fingers and touched his lips to the back of her hand. ‘Tell me you will think about us so if I do turn up on your doorstep I’ll know whether or not the door will be slammed in my face.’

For an instant he thought she wouldn’t reply and then her fingers squeezed his.

‘Okay. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll put my thinking hat on.’

A chorus of excited barking from out the front of the homestead told Connor that Paige and Tait had finally arrived home.

Anne smiled from where she sat close beside him on the lounge. ‘They’re here.’

‘Thank God!’ Connor’s arm tightened around her shoulders. ‘But what’s going to happen now?’

‘We can only hope good things happen. But if they don’t, all is not lost.’ She hugged him. ‘We still have an ace card up our sleeve, remember?’

‘I still can’t believe what you’ve done.’ He chuckled. ‘But I should have known. I should have also remembered I told you Paige was going to pay the vet bill last week. She’s still convinced she owes them money.’

‘So, even with a few small clues, you really didn’t suspect?’

‘Not at all.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘It seems there’s far more to my little librarian than meets the eye.’

‘Bundy, don’t you dare,’ Paige said as the pup eyed off her purple-socked toes in the cut-out boot. ‘I’ve come out here to think not be eaten alive.’

She tapped her thigh and the little blue heeler bounded up the verandah steps to where she sat and jumped onto her lap. His teeth zeroed in on her fingers but he soon relaxed as she stroked the soft fur on his back. With a contented sigh, he dropped his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

But her peace was short-lived. Dusty’s feet clipped on the verandah before his wet nose rubbed against her cheek. She hunched her shoulders and laughed.

‘I know, I know. I haven’t forgotten about you.’

Paige patted the floorboards and Dusty flopped down beside her with a grunt. She placed an arm around him.

Her gaze travelled between the two dogs. One she associated with her past and the other with her future. A future that, even after tossing and turning all night, remained unclear.

A part of her wanted to share Tait’s optimism that there could be a happily-ever-after, that they could have more than one night together. But her rational and practical side no longer believed in fairy tales. She only had to look at her dying home around her to know happy endings didn’t exist in the real world.

A warm breeze swirled past her, bringing with it the scent of basil. Her gaze lifted to the pots lining the steps. When Tait had arrived, only a single pot containing spindly plants had sat at the back kitchen door. Now a whole potted garden teeming with herbs and flowers graced the entrance. But it wasn’t only a small part of Banora Downs he’d brought back to life. He’d also returned colour and laughter to her world. Colour and laughter that would dim and die the instant his fancy car rattled over the cattle grid. The sadness she refused to give in to slammed against her self-control.

Dusty whined and licked her hand as she ruffled the thick coat of his chest.

‘I’ll be fine, Dust. You’ll see. I survived life before Tait. And now I’ll survive life without him.’

At her words, Bundy raised his sleepy head, yawned and then jumped off her lap to pounce on the much bigger dog. He clearly didn’t possess any fear genes. But she did. When it came to relationships she already knew the emotional rollercoaster she’d be buying a ticket on and the inevitable hurt. Whether Tait left tomorrow, or in a year after it became too hard to make things work between them, she’d have to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. She shook her head. No matter how much she loved Tait, the heartache wasn’t worth the risk of stepping aboard. Or was it?

She looked up at the sky that was as blue as Tait’s eyes. It had to rain sometime. And when it did could she possibly steal a little time away from the farm? And now that her father and Anne had acknowledged the feelings she’d long suspected they both held, could Anne be on hand to cover for her? But would a snatched weekend here and there be enough to sustain
a long-distance relationship? Tait had said he was working on being less busy. A workaholic willing to break his addiction had to count for something, didn’t it?

She glanced from the wide band of sky to the delicate pink flowers and then to the grinning dogs rolling around beside her. She couldn’t not get on board the rollercoaster. If the drought had taught her anything it was that life was for living and for loving. If Tait was willing to make changes in his world then she had to meet him halfway.

Conviction swept aside her fears. She came to her feet. She loved her city boy with a depth and intensity she’d never thought possible. She needed to summon up the courage to tell him. She headed to the kitchen where he’d been eating breakfast with her father and Anne. The cold sweat crawling across her skin didn’t slow her steps. If she and Tait were to have any sort of relationship, let alone a future, the first thing she needed to do was be up front and honest with him.

Connor looked up from the recipe book he was trawling through. Paige smiled as soon as she entered the kitchen. Relief coursed through him. She no longer appeared the shadow she’d been two weeks ago. A healthy glow now filled her cheeks and a golden light sparkled in her brown eyes. He had so much to be thankful to Tait for.

‘Morning,’ she said. ‘Where is everybody?’

Connor took off his reading glasses and laid them on the table. ‘They’ve gone to Glenalla. Tait wanted to return the hire car so Anne went with him and drove his car.’

‘Then they’ll both come home in Tait’s car?’

He shook his head. ‘Anne’s going in to work today. Her car has a problem with the radiator hose so I’ll take a look while it’s here. Then she’ll borrow her neighbour’s to drive home tonight.’

‘And Tait? When will he be back?’

Connor looked at the wall clock. ‘I’m guessing he should arrive around eleven.’

Paige nodded but frowned.

‘Why? Do you need him home earlier?’ he asked.

‘No. I … just need to talk to him.’

Connor picked up his glasses, hoping Paige wouldn’t catch the tremor in his hand. Her words may have been nonchalant but from the way she looked at the toe of her boot as she scuffed the kitchen floor he knew whatever she needed to talk to Tait about was serious. He put his glasses on and stared unseeingly at the lasagne recipe before him. This morning Tait had looked like a man on a mission. He’d only grabbed a quick coffee and spared little time for chit-chat before he’d left for Glenalla. The timing of Paige’s must-have talk might be far from perfect.

‘He’ll be back soon enough,’ Connor said as he turned the recipe pages to hide his concern.

For the next two hours Connor pottered about in the kitchen and spoke on the telephone in his office. Every so often he’d catch a glimpse of Paige as she came into the kitchen for a cool drink, but as the hands on his watch wound past eleven o’clock Paige’s trips past his office door became more frequent. When he saw her twice in the space of fifteen minutes, he followed her into the kitchen and asked, ‘Fancy some lunch?’

‘No thanks, Dad.’

‘Are you sure? There’s some of your favourite zucchini quiche left.’

She smiled but the seriousness in her eyes didn’t lessen. ‘I’m not hungry.’ She moved to the window above the sink and stared out at the driveway. ‘Shouldn’t Tait be home by
now?’

‘Maybe. Anne did say he left around nine.’

‘Well, it’s closer to twelve now. Do you think he’s had an accident? There’s no bull bar on the front of that flash car of his.’

Connor rolled to a stop beside her. ‘He’ll be fine. I was talking to Mr Tipson earlier and he said he’d seen a black car parked at his front gate just after ten.’

‘That makes sense. Tait did say he wanted a photo of Mr Tipson’s emu mailbox, but it’s only a short drive from there to here. Tait still should have been back ages ago. Maybe I should go and look for him.’

‘Paige, you know you’re not supposed to drive with a broken foot. The only car here that’s an automatic is Anne’s, but I’m not letting you anywhere near it with a leaking radiator hose. Try calling him.’

‘I have, three times, but his mobile goes to voicemail.’ Her shoulders shifted with a sigh. ‘What could he be doing? The only thing between Tipson’s and us is Killora Downs.’

Connor swung away from the window to hide his growing tension. ‘Maybe he’s simply stopped to take some more photos.’

‘Maybe,’ Paige mused.

‘Just give him more time before you man the panic stations.’

She turned and made for the door.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Just the shed.’ She flashed him a grin.

‘Just the shed’ was a running joke between them. Whenever he went into the shed, no one would see him for hours.

‘Paige,’ he cautioned, ‘give him another twenty minutes. If he’s not home by then and you’re still worried, I’ll call Mr Tipson. I’m sure he won’t mind checking the road.’

She stared at him for a moment. ‘Okay.’ She pulled her mobile out of her pocket. ‘But I’ll try calling one more time.’ Phone to her ear she hobbled out of the back kitchen door.

When the four-wheeler roared past the kitchen window, Connor knew Paige had done more than try to call Tait again. Damn it. He should have been a mental step ahead of her and hidden the keys to the hand-controlled ATV. He steered his chair toward the closest phone and dialled.

Anne. Pick up.

‘Glenalla Library,’ she said in her unruffled voice.

‘Hi, love, it’s me. Paige’s gone looking for Tait. It’s time.’

‘Okay, I’m ready to do what we talked about.’ Her tone lowered. ‘But, Connor, whatever happens from now on will be up to Paige and Tait. We’ve done all that we can.’

‘I know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m already praying for a miracle.’

The ATV wasn’t going to break any land speed record but it would take her out to look for Tait. She scanned the road ahead and looked for dust, tyre marks or anything that could explain what had happened to him. Her father might have said all the right things but she knew him too well. He’d glanced at his watch and the kitchen clock just as often as she had.

Fear solidified like lead in her stomach. She harboured no illusions as to the brutality of life. She only had to look at her mother’s vacant chair to know life didn’t play fair. Surely fate couldn’t take Tait from her now before she told him she loved him?

She forced her breathing to slow. If Tait had hit a roo or run into the table drain she’d know soon enough. He couldn’t be far away. But as the ATV raced along the road she saw nothing. Then suddenly her gaze fixed on the perfect imprint of Tait’s wide-tyre tread in the red dust at the entrance to Killora Downs. She pulled the four-wheeler to a halt and stared at
the fresh tracks indicating that Tait had turned off the road and crossed the cattle grid. The pressure crushing her chest lifted. Thank God he was okay. Thank God he wasn’t tangled in the metal wreck of his car.

But what the hell was he doing at Killora Downs?

She followed Tait’s tyre tracks and sent the ATV hurtling along the overgrown driveway. He said he liked a mystery but couldn’t he bloody well read? Her ire spiked as she passed a second sign stating all trespassers would be prosecuted. Just wait until she caught up with her city pretty-boy. His allergic reaction had scared her enough. Today she’d believed he’d had a car accident.

Beside her the twin line of lemon-scented gum trees flanking the Killora Downs’ driveway flashed by, their pale trunks gleaming in the sunlight. Here and there the pattern would be broken by a dead tree or one that had blown over in a windstorm. She followed the driveway as it veered left towards the haggard silhouette of a once grand Victorian home. As she passed the last of the gums she slowed the ATV and stopped beside Tait’s dusty, empty car. Still sitting on the quad-bike, she made a quick call to Connor and then checked around her.

Behind the ramshackle wire fence in front of her loomed a roofless, red-bricked shell that had somehow retained three standing chimneys. Seeing a decaying Killora Downs never failed to make her feel humble and appreciate that her beloved Banora Downs remained intact. She tucked her windblown hair behind her ears and climbed off the four-wheeler. In her urgency to find Tait she hadn’t tied back her hair or put on her hat.

She shaded her eyes against the glare and opened her mouth to call his name but something stopped her. It was as though the deep silence surrounding the ruin spoke of a new, hard-won peace. She shivered. She hadn’t felt such a feeling before. She’d always come and gone from here as quickly as she could. The creaking of the old trees and the cavernous
holes where curtained windows and cedar doors used to lie always made her feel as though the house continued to suffer long after Wallace Sinclair had died.

She looked at the ground and slowly followed Tait’s boot prints through the unhinged gate and along what had once been the front path. Instead of continuing to the main door, he’d taken a right turn and headed to the side of the house where a smaller door had existed. She stopped. How did Tait know of such a door? She only knew of it from her grandmother as she’d talked about a side-kitchen door at Killora Downs called the cooee door because her grandfather would cooee instead of knocking to let Ross know he’d arrived.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she limped forward, but as she passed the thick trunk of an old palm tree, movement caught her eye. She turned and saw the bright blur of Tait’s red work shirt beyond a post-and-rail fence and heading towards the windmill. She hesitated. For a mystery-loving man the bowed line of his shoulders told her he wasn’t particularly enjoying any of Killora Downs’ secrets.

She set off towards him. But even when she climbed through the post-and-rail fence and cursed as she bumped her head on the top wooden rail, he seemed unaware of her approach. Back facing her, he stared upward as the wind moved the rusted windmill blades.

‘Tait?’

Though he flinched, as he turned there was no sign of surprise on his face. The lecture she’d prepared, about always letting people know where he was, died on her lips. It was as though he were a stranger. She’d never seen him so haunted or so dog-tired. Not even on the day he’d arrived.

She thrust her hands into her jeans pockets to stop herself touching him.

‘Tait, what are you doing here? I was so worried when you didn’t come home by lunch and you didn’t answer your phone.’

He settled his Akubra a little more firmly on his head. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m
just playing tourist.’

She searched his hooded gaze. Taking outback happy-snaps didn’t usually leave a person looking as brittle as a stalk of late-summer grass.

‘Mr Tipson said he saw you at his mailbox around ten.’

Tait’s lips twisted. ‘It seems I can’t do anything out here without being noticed.’

‘Anything, except come to Killora Downs. No one knew you were here.’

‘You did.’ His tone sharpened as he looked at her foot. ‘You didn’t drive, did you?’

She shook her head. ‘I took a leaf from your boy scout book and used the four-wheeler.’

‘Well, sorry to have dragged you out here but I’ve seen enough.’ He turned towards the house. ‘I’ll give you a lift. I’m sure Anne won’t mind dropping me back some time tomorrow to get the ATV.’