by Sandy Barker
“Us breaking up, obviously.” Why does she think everything’s so obvious? Chloe puzzled, fuming.
“It was just a silly fight. We’ve had them before, and we’ve reconciled before. You wouldn’t know this, and there’s no way that you could know, but this dance is quite familiar for me and Archer.”
Chloe vaguely recalled an assortment of tabloid headlines that supported Madison’s assertion, but Cecily’s comment about the breakup a few days before had made it seem final.
Confusion was not a feeling that sat well with Chloe. She was pragmatic and a planner. She was also unfailingly confident. But there was something about Madison’s words, and even her presence—as though she was daring Chloe to challenge her assertion that this was nothing more than a lovers’ tiff—that made Chloe doubt what was happening between her and Archer.
Scrutinising the relationship (for want of a better word) from this fresh perspective, Chloe knew that it was more than just physical—at least for her—and it was certainly more than fangirling. That moment they’d shared at the fair with the Capels, that had changed their flirtation into something more substantial. She’d seen then, and many times since, what was in his heart. He was a good person—kind, intelligent, thoughtful. She didn’t need Susan extolling his virtues to see all that.
She realised, as she sat in a luxurious suite in inner London, wearing only a fluffy bathrobe and under the scrutiny of Archer’s ex-girlfriend, that she was falling for him. She was falling hard for Archer Tate, the man she’d been papped with. It certainly complicated things, but in a way, it also fuelled her. She was not walking away from this without telling Archer how she felt.
“You’re welcome to stay until Archer gets back, but that won’t be for a few hours. In the meantime, I’m going back to my bath. Stay or don’t stay, I don’t care. But it’s clear that you and he need to talk.” If only for him to tell you it’s truly over, she thought.
Chloe stood and left the room, slipping off her robe once more and stepping into the now-tepid bath. She lifted the tap to draw more hot water and just as she reclined, she heard the door to the suite open then shut.
She let out a ragged sigh, releasing all the tension her body had been holding. Just the thought of losing Archer, even after this brief time together, made her feel nauseous. So much for a relaxing morning alone.
Chapter 22
Jules
“Are you sure about this?” Jules scrutinised Matt’s face, which was creased with worry.
“Uh, yep.” He was standing alongside a black and white mare that seemed to be getting antsier by the minute.
Jules, not wholly convinced, placed her left foot in the stirrup and effortlessly hoisted herself onto her ginger-coloured mare, settling into the leather saddle. “Because you don’t look sure.”
Matt glanced from her back to the horse, his frown intensifying.
“Matty, mate, you all good?” Matt’s friend and owner of the stables, Jase, held the reins of Matt’s horse, petting her gently along the length of her nose and shushing her in a low tone.
“We don’t have to go, Matt, if you’re worried,” offered Jules. Her own horse, Gingernut, stamped a foot and nodded her head as though she agreed.
Matt scratched the back of his head, his hand colliding with his riding helmet, tipping the brim over his eyes. He righted it. “Ah, bugger it. Jase, gimme a hand, mate?”
Jase laid a hand on horse’s front flank and leant into her, and she stilled. “Good girl, Oreo. There’s a good girl.” Turning to Matt, he said, “Okay, just like what Jules did. Left foot into the stirrup, then throw your leg over.”
Jase snorted at his own joke, one that went over Jules’s head, but was clearly something lewd. Aussies, she thought, laughing to herself. Maybe it was some sort of slang for sex—which she and Matt had not had. Not yet, anyway. He’d been a total gentleman the night before, putting a pause on proceedings at the clothes-still-mostly-on stage of their make-out session.
Jules hoped to cure him of his gentlemanliness later that afternoon. It had been agony sharing a bed with someone she was so attracted to, and she’d woken several times in the night, hyper aware of him next to her.
After one false start, which left Matt hopping about with one foot in a stirrup and one still on the ground, Matt got himself onto Oreo. He blew out a relieved sigh. “It’s a long way to the ground from up here,” he said.
“Then don’t bloody fall off,” teased Jase.
There were three other guests in their party and with Matt finally atop his horse, it was time for the expedition to head out. Jase mounted his horse and took the lead, and one of his employees, Andie, brought up the rear.
Seven horses, and each one named after a cookie, apparently. All the names besides Oreo were unfamiliar to Jules—Gingernut, Kingston, Tim Tam, Monte, Tiny Teddy (who at fifteen hands was the tallest horse), and ANZAC. The horses, clearly well-practised in following the leader, formed a line unprompted as Jase led them into the bushland.
The motion of Gingernut beneath her, that steady familiar plod, calmed Jules in a way she hadn’t experienced for a long time. She tried to recall the last time she’d gone horseback riding, something that had consumed much of her adolescence, but struggled to remember. “Too long,” she said to herself. Even so, she felt right at home. Just like riding a bike. The thought made her smile.
The trail zigzagged between tall and unruly eucalyptus trees, their fragrance almost citrussy and Jules breathed in deep breaths of the clean Australian air. It was warm that day, but not too hot, and she’d heard Jase say they were lucky with the weather. Apparently, the next day would be “a scorcher” with the mercury pushing past a hundred and ten Fahrenheit—too hot for the horses—and they would have had to cancel the ride.
There were magpies somewhere close by; she could hear their warbling. She’d asked Matt about it when they’d had breakfast on his veranda that morning. It was a unique sound and she would forever associate it with Matt’s place.
It’s so beautiful here, Jules thought. It was a rugged kind of beauty that lifted her spirits—everything from the smell of the air, to the unfamiliar wildflowers growing in the scrub, to the sounds of the bushland. She ducked under a low branch and turned around to grin at Matt, who was right behind her. “You doing okay?” she asked.
“Sure, yep,” he replied. It was hardly the reply of an accomplished horseman but seeing how nervous Matt was about the ride made Jules appreciate the thoughtfulness of the gift even more.
Not long after, the party emerged into a grassy clearing and up ahead, Jules could see a single-storey red brick building surrounded by a split-rail fence. Jase led them to the fence, where they dismounted, removed their helmets, and tied up the horses. Jase and Andie walked the line of horses and checked the ties before Jase asked the group to follow him into the first winery of their three-winery tour.
Matt clasped her hand in his as they walked, and she felt a flush of warmth that had nothing to do with the eighty-degree day. “I’m guessing you’ve been here before?” she asked.
“For sure, heaps. Their pinot’s nearly as good as mine.” When she looked at him, he was grinning, those sexy dimples on show. She smiled back and he dipped his head to capture her mouth with a quick kiss. “Don’t tell them I said that, though.”
She haphazardly trailed her fingertips over her chest in opposite directions. “Cross my heart.”
The tasting room was rustic yet beautiful, with a high timber ceiling that met in an apex about thirty feet above them. The polished wooden floorboards were made from some sort of redwood, and three heavy beams crossed the breadth of the room where the ceiling met the brick walls. The bar, also made of redwood, held up a single piece of timber, a slice from what was obviously a large tree, with natural edges and a gleaming finish.
Behind it stood a smiling woman of indeterminate age. “Welcome to Red Ridge,” she said as the group approached the bar. “This is our tasting menu, here.” While Jase and
Andie hung back, the rest of them stepped forward and started perusing the wine menu. “We’ve got seven wines on tasting today, and you’re welcome to try them all, or you can skip to your favourites.”
Jules was hardly a wine connoisseur, although she did enjoy a California pinot on occasion, and she was keen to increase her wine knowledge, especially with Matt now in the picture—whatever that would come to mean in the few days she had left in Australia. “What do you recommend, besides the pinot?” she asked Matt quietly.
“You should try all seven,” he replied. She thought of Gingernut and even though it was an organised tour, and Jase and Andie seemed responsible, she wasn’t keen on getting tipsy before getting back on her horse. Matt must have seen her consternation. “You can always taste and spit.” He indicated a free-standing barrel next to the bar with a silver funnel in the centre.
She was dubious about spitting out wine in front of Matt. She knew it was perfectly acceptable, that serious wine tasters did it without a second thought, but she also thought it was gross.
“Um, I’ll just taste two or three, on your recommendation.”
He seemed to understand. “All right, then.” He read through the tasting menu, then went back and pointed to an unoaked chardonnay and two pinots from different vintages. “Those should give you a good indication of what the region is known for.”
“Thanks.” He was watching her intently and Jules bit her lip. Oh yes, she was definitely going to seduce the hot Aussie winemaker when they got back to his place.
“Ahem,” she heard from the other side of the bar. “Which one did you want to start with, love?” asked the woman.
“Oh, uh, the chardonnay, please,” she replied, a little embarrassed that she’d been caught out crushing on Matt.
Matt grinned across the bar. “Make that two, please, Nina.”
“Sure thing, Matty.”
As Jules swirled the two glasses of pinot noir and held them aloft to compare their colour, Matt explained the characteristics of the different vintages. “See how this one is a brighter colour,” he said, indicating the glass in her left hand. She nodded. “This is the younger of the two and as pinot ages, you’ll see more of a rusty brick colour, like this one. So, the one in your left hand will be more fruit forward and this one will be more complex, earthier even. Try them.”
She did, taking time to inhale the bouquet with her mouth slightly open, as Matt had shown her, then having a sip and letting the wine coat the width and breadth of her tongue. Only then did she swallow. “That one’s delicious,” she said after the younger wine.
“Now the other one.” Matt watched her face as she repeated the ritual with the second pinot, almost as if he hoped to catch the nuances of the wine reflected onto her face.
“Hmm,” she said after she swallowed. She went back to inhale the bouquet again and took a second sip. “It’s almost like a completely different wine. I like it, though. It is earthier, like you said, but it also has a spiciness that the first one doesn’t.”
Matt’s smile oozed with pride. “Precisely. That’s the magic of it. As a winemaker, you use your best judgement to make decisions about each vintage—and there are so many factors that go into those decisions—and then you pretty much hope for the best. Sometimes it’s lightning in a bottle, and other times …” He shrugged.
“Why don’t you have a tasting room?”
“It’s next on the list.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. Twoey and I have already got an architect booked to come see us in mid-Jan.”
“That’s exciting.” She grinned at him.
“Yeah, it is. Slightly terrifying too, but it’s the next logical step. I mean, I showed you yesterday where we do tastings from the shed, but that’s only on request and it doesn’t happen much. As I said, we already sell most of what we produce to local restaurants and shops. The tasting room, that’s next level, you know?”
“Will you have to produce more wine then?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit ‘chicken and egg’. The timing can be tricky, and we reckon we’ll have to buy in some grapes for the first couple of years, maybe launch a table-wine label. Anyway, this is all really boring.”
“No, not at all. My brother, Will, he started this company that works with local distilleries—boutique ones—and they have similar kinds of decisions to make. When to expand their range, when to open tasting rooms, that sort of thing. I find it really interesting; there are so many moving parts.”
“Yeah, yeah, exactly.”
They were pulled from their conversation by Jase. “Okay everyone, if there was anything you liked, you can give Nina your orders, settle up, and we’ll have someone come collect them. Your wine will be waiting for you at the stables when we get back.”
Jules looked excitedly at Matt. “I definitely liked that first pinot, so I’ll get some of that.” She leant in close to him, “Although, it’s not as good as yours,” she whispered conspiratorially.
He grinned at her. “Told ya, but it is good to mix it up from time to time.”
*
They were back on the trail, heading to winery number two, when Jules heard a call from the rear of the group—Andie. “Matt, keep calm, but there’s a tiger snake just off the trail to the left there.” Jules’s head spun, and she caught sight of Matt’s terrified expression, his eyes locking onto hers across the thirty feet between their horses. “Just keep calm,” continued Andie, “and slowly lead Oreo off trail to the right. If she sees it, she’ll shy.”
Jules saw Matt nod sharply and pull gently on the right rein. Oreo resisted and flicked her head back; she must have caught sight of the snake. One moment she had all four hooves on the ground and a moment later, her front legs pawed the air and Jules watched, horrified, as Matt was flung off Oreo and into the scrub next to the trail.
“Matt!” Hers wasn’t the only voice calling him, but everything and everyone else receded into the background. She swung a leg over Gingernut, both feet landing on the ground at the same time, then broke into a sprint to get to him.
Fortunately, Oreo had thrown him off on the right side of the trail, away from the snake. But when Jules arrived at his feet, he was grimacing and holding his right wrist. She knelt next to Matt. “Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly.
Jase appeared beside her. “Mate, how’s your wrist. Show me.” Matt winced as he let go of his wrist and Jase took hold of it gently, turning it slowly, seeming to look for signs of a break. Andie knelt next to them and opened a plastic first aid kit.
“It doesn’t look broken, mate,” said Jase, “but we’ll get a splint on it just in case, okay.”
Andie went to work on Matt’s wrist, while Jules looked on helplessly. All she could do was hold his left hand, taking the brunt each time Matt squeezed it tightly in reaction to the pain.
“Ah, yeah, Jonno. We’re gonna need you to come out in the Land Rover.” Jase, on his mobile, looked around. “Uh, we’re about a click north of Red Ridge. You know where Jackson’s property backs onto the fire break. Yeah, that’s right.” Addressing Matt, he asked, “Hey, Matty, you reckon you can walk up to that gate with me? Jonno’s gonna come get ya.”
Matt nodded. “Yeah, that’s doable.”
“Can I go with Matt?” Jules asked, looking up at Jase.
“Yeah, course. Andie, when you’re done there, can you take Gingernut, and I’ll grab Oreo and follow you lot once Jonno’s here.”
“No worries,” Andie replied. She secured the end of the bandage with a silver clip, then gathered up the cellophane wrappings and put them into the first aid kit, clipping it shut. “You should be fine Matty. I don’t think there’s a break, but you’ll want to get it X-rayed, okay?”
“Thanks, Andie.” She stood and packed the first aid kit into her saddle bag, then gathered Tim Tam’s reins and led him over to Gingernut who was eating dried grass on the side of the trail. She took Gingernut’s reins, the mare seeming reluctant to abandon her trails
ide snack. Back on her horse, Andie called over her shoulder. “See you back there.” She gave Tim Tam a firm kick and led Gingernut to the front of the group. The others waved their grim goodbyes from their perches, and then it was just Jase, Jules, and Matt.
“I feel like a right idiot. Sorry, Jules. Not exactly how I thought the day would end up.” Not for Jules either, but all she cared about was making sure Matt was okay.
“It’s not your fault. It was just bad luck. That could have happened to any of us. I’ve certainly been thrown from a horse before.”
“Really?”
“Yes, when I was eleven.”
Matt started chuckling. “Great, so you’re saying I have the horse-riding ability of an eleven-year-old?”
“Oh, hell no, I was way better at eleven than you are now. I was thrown when my horse shied right before a four-foot jump.” She scrunched her nose at him and they shared a laugh at his expense.
“It’s a good thing I like you.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m starting to think it’s a very good thing.”
“He’s here!” Jase called. He’d been standing about twenty feet away, perhaps to give them some privacy while they waited for Jonno. Would Jules ever get used to all the “Aussiefied” names? She doubted she would ever call Matt, “Matty”.
“Let me help you,” she said to Matt as she stood. She took his left hand in both of hers and pulled him to his feet. “Anything else hurt?”
“Just my pride.”
Jules smiled, keeping hold of his hand as they walked to the Land Rover.
Chapter 23
Lucy
“Mom is going to kill you, Bradley,” hissed Bridget.
“What? I’m fine. Nothing happened!”
“Your mom is not going to kill him, Bridget, because we are not telling her what happened.”
“But—”
Will cut her off. “Bridget, no. Bradley’s fine and that’s all that matters. Your parents left me in charge, and if you think I’m getting told off by Aunt Jackie ’cause you tattled, think again.”