by Sandy Barker
“She is,” he agreed. The doe’s head flicked to the left and in a flash, she was off, running deeper into the forest. Lucy beamed at Will and he returned her smile. “Come on,” he said softly, and she started following him again.
They walked on and about ten minutes later, emerged into a clearing. In the middle sat a compact cabin, with windows either side of a wooden door, each glowing with light from within. Lucy looked at Will questioningly, but he just smiled, revealing nothing. They climbed six steps onto a tiny porch, and Will undid his snowshoes, so Lucy did the same, having to take off her gloves to manage the fiddly task. When she stood, he was smiling down at her. “Ready?”
She nodded, then he unlatched the door and pushed it open. “Oh, Will …” It was all she could manage to say before she stepped inside.
Chapter 29
Jules
The cab ride to Matt’s was long and costly, but Matt didn’t bat an eye when the fare came to ninety dollars. He just handed over two fifties and told the driver to keep the change. Maybe they’d given him some serious drugs at the hospital, and he was too high to care. Jules couldn’t remember ever paying that much for a cab ride and the Denver airport was nearly half a state away from Boulder.
Still, she was probably only fixating on the cost because it was far better than fixating on their situation.
She had tried to distract herself during the ride, her eyes scouring one tree after another in search of the elusive koalas. Matt had told her how lucky they were on the peninsula, escaping the unprecedented bushfires that had ravaged the country the summer before. She couldn’t even imagine all that beautiful land, scarred and blackened.
Koala hunting was not enough to keep her worries at bay, however. As she and Matt sat in silence, she mulled over question after question—none of which she could answer. Eventually, she landed on just one, a question that gnawed away at her as the cab wound its way along deserted tree-lined roads.
What was she doing hanging out in rural Australia with a guy she barely knew?
She’d come for Christmas, to hang out, to get some beach time and sunshine—not to get caught up with a guy who may or may not already be “caught up” with someone else. Who the hell is this Kirsten, anyway?
Jules needed her girls. Maybe she’d try to call Chloe later. Or Lucy, if she’d even come to the phone. God, she’d created a mess. She wasn’t usually the one in the thick of drama; that was more Chloe’s department.
When she stepped out of the cab and onto Matt’s gravel driveway, she could hear Dexter’s excited yaps at their arrival and her inner turmoil receded into the background. Dexter made a beeline for them as soon a Matt unlatched the gate, darting excitedly between them, clearly overjoyed that his pack was back together. He sniffed at Matt’s bandage and gave it a lick, then looked up at his master. Matt reassured him with a vigorous rubbing of his head and ears. Jules was next, receiving a paw on her leg, a plea for more petting. She laughed freely, kneeling to comply.
Jules had forgotten how much she missed having a dog around. She’d grown up with dogs—a Labrador that Will, aged five, had (for some reason) been allowed to name Dorito, then a kelpie named Bash. Bash had been a crazy dog who barked at practically anything and earned his name by bashing his paws against the front door when the doorbell rang. His behaviour got so bad that they couldn’t turn on the washing machine unless he was in the backyard—kind of hard when there was five feet of snow on the ground. Laundry days during winter were fun—not.
Jules had missed the little guy when he died of old age, though. They’d never got another dog, and then Jules had left for college, followed by Will.
As she fawned over Dexter, Jules realised that there was something special about how she felt around dogs—that distinctive doggy smell, the wet nose landing in her lap while she had her morning coffee, the feeling of a furry being leaning against her leg, the bright intelligent eyes looking at her as though she was the most important person in the world. Well, with Dexter, the second-most important.
Maybe she was falling for Dexter rather than Matt.
She stole a look at Matt. He was watching her, his eyes alive with warmth, affection even. For me, or for Dexter?
“He’s definitely taken by you,” Matt said.
Jules laughed self-deprecatingly. “It’s easy to win over a dog. Just give them lots of kisses and love. Isn’t that right, Dex?” she added, baby-talking as she ruffled the dog’s fur. Dexter yapped in obvious agreement and she grinned.
“I don’t know about that,” said Matt. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you he’s selective about making new friends. He’s smitten.” Jules pressed her lips together anticipating his next words. “That makes two of us.” She’d been right, but there was no use in getting her hopes up. Those were just words and she had no idea how she felt about their situation. The only thing she was certain of at that moment, was she liked his dog. A lot.
*
“Comfy?” Matt asked as they swung gently in an oversized hammock.
“So comfy,” Jules replied. She nestled into the crook of Matt’s arm, her head resting on his shoulder. He drew his fingers gently back and forth across her upper back and she could occasionally feel the brush of his bandage against her skin.
The motion—both the hammock and Matt’s hand—helped soothe her frazzled nerves. It was his explanation to give and she knew she shouldn’t rush him, yet she felt seconds away from blurting out, “Who the hell is Kirsten?” She bit the inside of her mouth to stop the words.
Matt sighed and Jules tried to read its tone. Then he sighed again, sparking annoyance. “Just say it,” she snapped, instantly regretting it. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Hey.” He reached under her chin and tipped her head towards him. She wasn’t comfortable contorted like that, so she tried to readjust her position, sending the hammock into a jarring lurch to one side.
“Whoa,” they both said together. Matt placed a steadying hand on the ground, righting the hammock.
Jules bit her lip, trying without luck to supress a giggle. “Oops, sorry.”
He shook his head at her, grinning. “I’ve never had another person in here with me. It’s a little more precarious than I thought it would be. You should be getting danger pay.” It was enough to break the tension she’d felt building since they’d left the hospital and she laughed along with him. She made a small adjustment in her position, slowly this time, so she could see his face.
“So …” she said, bravely wandering into unknown emotional territory. It seemed to be just the gentle nudge that Matt needed.
“So …” He sighed again, catching himself when Jules gave an exasperated, “Argh.”
“Sorry! No more sighs, I promise. Right. Kirsten. I should probably start at the beginning.” Jules watched his face closely, seeing a dozen emotions cross it and, without him saying it, Jules knew that Matt had loved Kirsten. And she did not like how that realisation made her feel.
“You know how I told you about my trip to America?”
“The wine sabbatical,” she replied.
“Exactly. Well, when I got to Oregon, I met someone.”
“Kirsten.”
“Uh, no. It was Monica, Kirsten’s best friend.” Jules’s brow creased. Womaniser, much? She thought. Maybe she’d got Matt completely wrong. Maybe he wasn’t one of the good guys.
As if he could read her mind, Matt back-pedalled. “Hang on, I’m not telling it right. Monica and I were just friends. I worked with her brother and her dad at the family’s vineyard.” Jules felt the knot in her stomach uncoil a little. “She reminded me a lot of Chloe, actually. Maybe that’s why we became such good mates. Anyway, we kept in touch and after I’d been back in Australia for a few months, she messaged me to say that her best friend was coming over to do some travelling and asked if I’d show her around. And I did, and, uh … we got together.”
“With Kirsten? You hooked up?”
“Yeah, something like that. She was
supposed to be travelling around the country—Adelaide, Perth, then across to Brizzie, down to Sydney, and then back here, but she didn’t do any of that.”
“She just stayed in Melbourne?”
“Well, here, mostly.”
“Ahhh.” Jules didn’t want to think of another woman in Matt’s house—or his bed. She asked the next question, dreading his answer but knowing she needed to hear it. “And you fell in love with her?”
“I did … or I thought so at the time.”
“Right, okay. So, what happened?”
“Well, when it was time for her to go home, she asked me to go with her.” He paused.
Why was she having to drag this story out of him? Every other time they’d talked, his stories had practically poured out, filled with details. This was excruciating. “And did you? Go?” Jules tried to temper the annoyance in her voice.
“No. But I thought about it. As in, seriously thought about it. I even told everyone I was going—my family, Chloe, Ash, Davo, the girls, everyone.”
He glanced at her, the pain etched onto his handsome features and Jules felt awash with guilt. He wasn’t spilling the story like it was a funny anecdote because this was hard for him, reliving it, retelling it—and to her.
He closed his eyes for a moment then looked away. “My mum was devastated. We’ve always been really close, and it had been hard enough for her when I’d moved overseas for a few months. This time, I’d be going indefinitely, and I think it was too much for her. We had this massive fight. It still makes me sick to think about some of the things I said to her.”
Jules knew that feeling. She’d unleashed her own fury on her mom around the time she had married Joe. Jules knew that buried deep, even now, she still held that kernel of resentment towards her mom, blaming Steph for leaving her dad. It rose its head sometimes, but she regretted the things she’d said that night. That was the thing about saying stuff out loud; you can’t un-ring a bell. Maybe that was why she kept her rawest emotions locked away, so she could get through life reasonably unscathed, not getting too invested, not hurting anyone.
Except Lucy. Her heart ached for her best friend and she promised herself she’d call Lucy before the end of the day.
When Jules abandoned her thoughts to give Matt her full attention, it was obvious that he was lost in his own. “Hey,” she said in a whisper. She touched his chin with her fingertips, running them along his late-afternoon whiskers.
Matt looked at her and she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, then surprisingly felt her own well up. “I was such a shit to her, Jules. She didn’t deserve that.”
“No, probably not. But is that why you didn’t move to the States? The fight? Wait, did you move there?”
“No, I didn’t go. I came back here after the fight with Mum and ended up having it out with Kirsten.”
“Well, that sucks. Two massive fights in a row.”
“You have no idea. I haven’t even got to worst part yet,” he said, his tone ominous. “Turned out that Kirsten wasn’t who I thought she was. Well, hang on, she wasn’t like a spy or a crim or anything like that. But she was pregnant.”
“Oh.” Jules’s stomach plummeted. So, this was it, Matt’s big reveal—he was a father.
“Oh no, no! The baby wasn’t mine. Sorry, babe, I should have led with that. Sorry.” He blew out a breath and amid the tumult of her emotions, Jules latched on to the joy of Matt calling her “babe”.
“No, see, she’d arrived in Australia knowing she was expecting. No plan, just running away from her life. She hadn’t told the father—didn’t even give the guy a chance, ’cause they’d broken up by the time she found out. And, so, when she met me, she saw a way out—a nice guy who could give her a good life. She wasn’t even going to tell me. She was just gonna let me think the baby was mine …”
“Oh, Matt. What the hell?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
“But how did you find out?”
“Well, after I told her about the fight with Mum, she got the guilts and came clean.”
“Ohhh, right, so, when your mom heard my voice on the phone …”
“She must have heard the accent and thought the worst, yeah.”
“Well, no wonder! I would. God, Matt, I cannot believe that happened to you.” She tried to imagine how someone could be so deceitful, then remembered that Ash had mentioned Matt going through a hard time a while back—talk about an understatement.
“I heard through Monica that Kirsten told the baby’s father when she got back to the States. They’re not together, but they are co-parenting, so at least there’s that.”
“And you made things right with your mom?”
“Yeah, ’course. I mean, that’s what mothers do, isn’t it? Take us at our worst and love us anyway?”
“Mmm,” she murmured, her thoughts returning to her mom. She’d have to schedule some time for them to hang out when she got home. Home. She’d be there in a few days.
Soon she’d be saying goodbye to Matt and Ash, and Dexter. Maybe she’d get a chance to see the others again, maybe not. And with their flight schedules, she’d be missing Chloe by a day, which left her feeling empty—all of it did. But as much as she missed her mom, and her dad and Will, she wasn’t ready to leave yet. She’d fallen a little in love with Australia. She may have been falling a little in love with the hot Aussie winemaker too.
Only, now he was far more than that. He was Matt, the man with warm, gentle eyes, who was quick to laugh—often at his own expense—a loyal and loving friend, affectionate, thoughtful … And yes, smoking hot. He looked just as good fresh out of the shower as he did in a suit or in faded, dusty jeans and a checked shirt.
How was she going to say goodbye to him in just a few days?
Jules inhaled deeply, taking in the tangy citrusy smell of the eucalypts. It reminded her of lemon grass or verbena, and she found it energising. A loud cackle erupted above them, startling her and almost upsetting the hammock again.
“You all right there?” she felt Matt’s gentle laughter against her, but the sound of it was drowned out by the cackle turning into a loud cry, “Ack-ack-ack-ack”.
“I’m okay, but what in the hell is that?”
“Kookaburra.” He pointed and she followed the line of his finger. In a nearby tree there was a large-headed white bird with dark brown wings, its beak open as it emitted its distinctive call. Another kookaburra joined it, swooping in a long, low arc from another tree and perching next to its friend, then adding to the avian chorus.
“I’ve got to see this,” said Jules. She climbed out of the hammock as carefully as she could, leaving Matt in it swinging wildly. “Come on,” she added, stretching her hand out towards him. Matt steadied himself with his good hand, before swinging his legs to the ground and following her as she wandered slowly towards the tree with the kookaburras. She craned her neck and from her new vantage point under the tree, she could see that their brown wings were tipped with an iridescent blue.
“They’re beautiful! Loud, but beautiful.” She laughed as both kookaburras stopped their cackling, cocked their heads, and seemed to peer down at her. Her mouth wide with a grin, she watched them as they watched her with their large eyes. The birdlife in Australia certainly had a lot of personality. She’d thought the magpies were awesome, but the kookaburras were next level.
She felt Matt’s arms slip around her waist, and careful of his bandage, she pressed her hands to his and sank into him. “I like having you here,” he said, his voice soft in her ear.
She breathed out a long, slow breath. “I like being here.” There was no guile, no hesitation in her words, just the truth of knowing that Matt was going to be far more important to her than just a fling and the surprise of not being afraid of that.
But how would they reconcile living so far from each other? It was a prickly, tangled mess of circumstance, especially as both were so close to their families, and after hearing Matt’s horrible story about d
odging the Kirsten bullet.
But those were worries for another time. All Jules wanted to do right then was soak up their moment together in that beautiful vineyard.
Chapter 30
Lucy
Inside the cabin, there was a fire burning in the fireplace; although Lucy could see that it would need stoking soon. Several lamps lit the one-room cabin with a warm glow, and even though the furniture was sparse, it was homey and welcoming. There was a tiny kitchenette along one wall, with a mini fridge tucked under the counter, and a corner of the cabin was walled off—the bathroom, she presumed. There was a sofa that faced the fireplace, a low table in front and next to it, a small dining table and two chairs.
The table was set simply but thoughtfully, with plates, cutlery, two wine glasses, and plain white cloth napkins. While Lucy took in all these details, Will rushed about striking match after match to light the pillar candles dotted about the room.
When the last one was lit, he stood still and looked at her. “Do you like it?” She could see him gulp down his uncertainty and she crossed the room in a heartbeat.
“I love it,” she said, reassuring him with a grin.
He blew out a breath, and she sensed his relief. How could he have doubted that the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her would hit the mark? She looked about the cabin again, taking in as many details as she could, and noticing a bottle of whisky on the table in front of the sofa. “Is that one of yours?” she asked.
“If you mean, did one of my clients make it, then yes.”
“Mmm.”
“Do you like whisky?”
“Um, sometimes. I mean, there are so many different sorts, aren’t there?”
“Well, this one’s a favourite of mine. Have a seat and I’ll pour you some.” Lucy peeled off her outer layers and Will did the same before retrieving two tumblers from the cupboard and joining Lucy on the sofa. He cracked the seal of the bottle and poured two generous glugs of whisky, then handed a glass to Lucy.