by Mandy Magro
‘Hey, yourself.’ He looked to her aunt beside her. ‘Hey, Janey. Long time, no see.’
‘Oh my goodness, Joel!’ Janey pulled him into a warm hug. ‘Juliette said you were back in town. It’s so good to see you.’ She gave him a few firm pats on the back before she released him. ‘You staying or just passing through?’
The sun in his eyes, he tugged his hat brim a little lower. ‘That depends.’
She eyed him curiously. ‘On what?’
‘My father.’
Janey’s brows rose. ‘Ah, yes. He can be a bit of a stubborn old bugger.’
Joel chuckled. ‘He sure can.’
Juliette was fidgeting with her belt buckle as she looked from Janey to Joel and back again.
‘Anyhow, I’d best get back to it,’ Janey offered with a smile. ‘Catch you later, Joel.’
‘Yup, will do. I’ll come and grab some treats before I head off.’ He looked to the wide expanse of bright blue sky as Janey disappeared into the thick of the crowd. ‘Nice day for it.’ Shoving his hands into his pockets, he flashed Juliette the most charming smile he could muster.
‘Sure is.’ A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of her glossy lips, but she didn’t let it spread. ‘You come to buy some livestock or just to have a mosey about?’
His heart hammered in gratification for this stunning woman. ‘Neither. I came to see you, actually.’ Lifting his sunnies, his gaze collided with hers just a fraction too long. An unspoken exchange between them, raw and intense and oh so breathtakingly real.
As if lost for words, she cleared her throat and shifted from one boot to the other. Her silence hung, brash and heavy, and he could see the racing of her pulse at the side of her neck as she looked away from him. Was her quickened heartbeat because she still had feelings for him? Or was it because she couldn’t stand the sight of him?
‘You haven’t been returning my calls, Jules.’ Why beat around the bush when he could just get straight to the point? She’d always liked that about him.
‘I know.’ Shooting her steely eyes back to him, she studied him with unsettling candour. ‘I’ve had a lot going on.’
‘I thought you were on holidays, with school out?’ He raised his voice a little to be heard above the crescendo of the auctioneer’s calls. ‘Anyone would think you’re trying to avoid me.’
‘What do you want, Joel?’ She switched her weight from one foot to the other, looking at him as if she was debating driving the heel of her boot into the toe of his.
It did nothing to perturb him. He’d always loved her feistiness. I want you. He wanted to say it, but he bit his tongue. ‘I want you to come to your senses.’
She blew a breath and shook her head. ‘Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re going to try and pull that BS on me too?’ she groaned, her arms folding. ‘Why can’t everyone just back the hell off and leave me be?’
‘Sorry, Jules. I didn’t mean to upset you.’ Something was clearly bugging her, other than him. He wished he knew what it was, or who it was, so he could either comfort her or go and pull whoever it was into line. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yup, all good.’ She straightened. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t called you back, but I know what you’re going to ask me to do, and the answer is still no.’
He offered her a mischievous smirk. ‘Well, we’re at a stalemate then, because I’m not going to take no for an answer.’
‘Stop it, Joel, please.’ She stomped towards the action, the anger in her steps making her hips sashay desirably.
Joel followed her, keeping his cool as he matched her posture and leant against the fence, both of them now watching the goings-on in the saleyards. He liked the way she didn’t move away as her breath escaped her in a forceful exhale.
‘I don’t want to talk about this here,’ she said, hushed but firm.
‘Okay. Well, call me then and we can talk in private,’ he replied. She threw him a sideways glance, and he knew he’d better heed the warning in it. ‘Okay, I’ll shut up.’
‘About time,’ she fired back.
‘For now,’ he added.
The shake of her head couldn’t hide the hint of a smirk, and he felt a rush. He was making headway.
Dusty trucks rumbled behind where the auctioneer paced along the catwalk suspended above the yards, rattling off at a hundred miles an hour – only a trained ear could understand everything he was saying. After spending countless days here with his father, Joel could make out every single word. Bids were thrown into the ring in rapid succession. The hype of it was addictive and he quickly found himself drawn in.
He watched a frisky horse being dragged into the centre of the action. ‘Blimey, that’s one fine horse if I’ve ever seen one.’ He tried his damnedest to ignore Juliette’s perfume, drifting towards him amidst the stench of mud, manure and cattle.
‘Yeah, he is, hey.’ Juliette popped her sunglasses atop her head and took a better look. ‘He’ll be a tough one to get under the saddle, though.’
Smirking, Joel lazily lifted a brow. ‘I’m not one to shy away from a challenge, Jules.’
‘Oh, trust me, I know.’ She cracked a small smile. The horse reared up, whinnying. ‘But that’s one keg of dynamite right there, Joel.’
With Ratbag galloping through his mind, his heart squeezed painfully tight. He missed his horsey mate and while he couldn’t ever replace him, he needed another. He just hadn’t realised it until this very second. ‘Just my kinda horse, by the looks.’ He flashed her a gallant grin as he raised a hand, placing himself in the bidding circle. The auctioneer pointed at him, and the bidding war was on.
‘You’re a sucker for punishment, Mr Hunter.’ She sounded mighty impressed.
And he loved it.
Back and forth it went, between himself and two other determined blokes – they clearly saw what he did. But in the end, he acquired ownership of the wild horse at top dollar.
Unmistakably as wound up in the excitement of it all as he was, Juliette gave him a slap on the back. ‘Good going, Joel, you’re now the proud owner of a bucking bronco.’ Her smile was wide, playfully so. ‘So get yourself ready for some wild rides.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it. I better make sure my health cover is up to date,’ he said with an equally playful smile.
‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded before glancing over his shoulder and giving someone a wave. ‘I better get back and give Mum and Aunt Janey a hand and let you go and organise how you’re getting your new four-legged friend home.’
‘Yeah, I hadn’t really considered that part of it seeing as I didn’t come here to buy a horse.’ He shrugged.
‘What are you going to call him?’ she asked.
‘Dynamite.’ He didn’t need to think about it.
‘You are?’
‘Uh-huh. That’s what you called him, a keg of dynamite. So that’s what he’ll be.’
She smiled now, so warmly that it reached out and heated his heart. ‘I like that. It really suits him.’ She looked to the horse now being ushered down a pass.
‘Yeah, it does.’ Joel followed her gaze.
‘Catch you round,’ she said over her shoulder as she strode off in the general direction of the stalls.
‘Yup, catch ya.’ He watched her walk away and disappear into the thick of the lunch crowd, wishing he could run after her.
CHAPTER
12
Joel woke with a start to the crowing of a rooster, the resounding racket followed by the rustling of wings. Bolting upright as he blinked sleep-heavy eyes, he glanced up just in time to catch his mother’s very spoilt Rhode Island rooster, Red, flap down from the rafter he’d evidently called home for the night. Then, clawed feet planted firmly on the floor, the egotistical fowl waddled off towards the door, sat ajar to allow the breeze in, to meet his flock of ladies clucking just outside.
Joel smiled to himself as he rested back and clasped his hands behind his head. Ribbons of sunlight filtered through the cracks of the old barn roof, bouncing off the walls, lightin
g up dust particles like specks of diamonds. The scent of tobacco still lingered, as if ingrained in the very foundations even after all these years. The familiar sights, smells and sounds – despite the cold welcome from his father – helped him to feel at home, as did his mother’s love. The converted barn was perfect, kept immaculate by her. It had a functional kitchen and a decent sized bathroom, and a living area that was decorated with cowskin rugs covering parts of the scuffed hardwood floors, and paisley-patterned throws and cushions brightening the wear and tear of the comfy old couch – all visible from the mezzanine bedroom that looked over downstairs. He wholeheartedly loved the rustic charm of his new home. Give him this humble abode, with its majestic views and country charisma, over some posh mansion in the swanky burbs of the big smoke any day.
Climbing from the tousled sheets, he adjusted his boxers as he wandered over to the window and rolled up the bamboo shade. Golden sunshine streamed in and he blinked into it, keen to breathe in the view. The high peaks of the surrounding mountains dominated the skyline behind the barn, and a patchwork of lush green paddocks, marked by timber fencing, stretched out for as far as the eye could see. His parents loved this place, and it showed. Everything from the homestead and the outbuildings to the livestock and the fruit trees was maintained and cared for to the highest of standards. If only he’d been able to stay on here. If only his father knew the real reason he’d lashed out at Levi Muller that night, things might have turned out very differently. Levi had taken so much from him and from those he loved – Juliette, his parents, even Zoe. They’d all suffered at the hands of a man who didn’t deserve to be walking free, let alone practising medicine.
Something had to give. Juliette had to realise it. He wasn’t going to give up until she did, even though it was going to be an uphill struggle. She meant more to him than he’d ever be able to let her know, being a married woman. Losing her to Lachlan Davis of all men was his cross to bear – not hers. Although Joel couldn’t stand the man, he just hoped Lachlan made her as happy as she deserved to be.
With a heavy sigh, he tried to divert his thoughts elsewhere. He was tired of wasting all his energy on something that was, for the moment, out of his hands. His belly rumbling, he headed down the spiral staircase and wandered over to the overstocked fridge. His pit-stop at the local grocery store yesterday had ended up costing an arm and a leg – he shouldn’t have gone in hungry. On the flip side of the coin, he had enough food to last him a couple of weeks, and plenty to choose from – a luxury after living in the outback, where fresh food was a rarity and a can of baked beans was his go-to meal when the camp cook was nowhere to be seen. Laying his gaze on the bacon and the bowl of fresh eggs his mother had given him, he decided on a bacon and egg sanga, washed down with a cuppa. That was until he realised he’d forgotten to buy coffee – of all the damn things to forget. A strong cup of tea would have to suffice.
Half an hour later, showered, shaved and belly full, he tugged on his boots and Akubra and stepped outside, making sure to close the door behind him so Red didn’t make himself at home again. It had taken him ten minutes to clean up the rooster’s butt missiles fired to the floor from the rafters. His father and he now had one thing in common – annoyance with the dirty little bugger.
Beside the barn, clusters of bougainvillea had taken over the fence, the multitude of bright colours popping amongst the greenery of shrubs and bushes. Wandering past the old Fiat tractor, now overcome with dust and cobwebs after being put to rest when his father had invested in his new John Deere, he went into the shed and towards the tack room.
Shoving the door open with a creaky yawn, he stepped inside, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the dimness. Two saddles – Zoe’s old dressage saddle and his old western – were shoved into a corner atop dusty saddle stands. Off to his right, his father’s much-loved Syd Hill western saddle was on a rung below oiled stockwhips, harnesses and saddle blankets on hooks. The tack table, neat and orderly, housed currycombs, hook picks and the odd tool. His father’s old hat hung from a rusty nail, dusty and sweat stained, along with the leather chaps he’d always worn when coaching a green horse. Wandering over to it, he took the hat from the nail, recalling all the times he’d had to recover it while his father was busy breaking a horse. He’d spent many a day watching his father from the sides of the training yard, dreaming of doing the same thing as his hero one day. Sad how fate had other plans. Would there ever be a chance to undo the past? He hoped so.
‘You looking for something?’ His father’s gruff tone dragged him from comforting memories to the harsh reality of their tattered relationship.
Knowing his father’s stance on being a manly man, Joel quickly cleared the emotion from his throat. ‘Just a couple of things to use with Dynamite today, that’s all.’
Standing just inside the doorway, William kept his distance. ‘Your mother said you went and bought a horse. I didn’t believe it until I saw the petrified looking thing in the paddock.’ Shoving his hands into his King Gee pockets, his gaze remained steely. ‘You could have checked with me first, made sure it was okay to keep it here.’
Joel half-shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘Well, for the record, I do mind squatters making themselves at home on my property, without an invitation.’ His stare was becoming more and more frosty by the second.
‘Okay then. You want me to get rid of him?’ Joel knew his tone was terse, but what did his father expect?
‘It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think? With the saleyards shut for another six months, the poor bugger will be on the meatworks floor.’ He huffed and shook his head. ‘Never think things through, do you? Just don’t expect me to help you. I’ve got enough to do around here.’
‘I don’t expect you to.’ Joel levelled his tone, keeping it low and steady. ‘And I’m more than happy to help around the place. Anytime.’
‘Sudden change of tune, isn’t it?’ William’s expression was scornful.
‘What do you mean?’ Joel matched his father’s defensive stance, hands in pockets, boots planted wide.
‘It’s a bit hard to believe you want to lend a hand when you took off faster than a bull at an open gate, chasing some half-arsed dream of becoming a stockman.’ He arched a bushy brow. ‘You left me here to do it all after I’d been teaching you the ropes all your damn life.’
‘I never dreamt of being a stockman, Dad. I’d always wanted to leave school and be by your side, doing what you taught me to do.’
‘Could have fooled me,’ William shot back.
‘I didn’t just leave here of my own accord, Dad. You kicked me out.’ The words tumbled from Joel before he could stop them. ‘What was I meant to bloody well do?’
‘You were supposed to go somewhere for the night and think about what you’d done, and then come home and apologise.’ His father half-shrugged, like it was obvious.
‘You must have forgotten to teach me that one,’ Joel grumbled. ‘It wasn’t for selfish motivations that I left here,’ he said, measuring his words carefully. ‘And I had good reason to do what I did to Levi Muller. The man’s a bloody lowlife.’
‘Oh, come on, Joel,’ his father said. ‘I know you two had gripes at school, but it didn’t warrant you doing what you did to him.’
Gritting his teeth, Joel bit back a curse. ‘If you knew the truth, maybe you’d understand and stop judging me so harshly.’
Yanking his hands from his pockets, William folded his arms tightly. ‘Well, go on then, now’s your chance to clear the air once and for all.’
Joel met his father’s stormy grey eyes, his heart punching his ribcage. He could tell him, it would be so easy to explain, to be forgiven … but until Juliette came round, he didn’t have a choice. He’d already broken one promise to her, all those years ago. He wasn’t about to go and break another. And so, frustratingly, he was forced to choose silence.
‘Cat gone and got your tongue, hey?’
‘No,
’ Joel shot back.
‘I’m all ears, Joel, so tell me this truth.’
Joel dropped his gaze to his boots. ‘I can’t, not yet, anyway.’
William heaved a huff. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t have a bloody excuse, you’re just making things up so you don’t have to take responsibility for what you’ve done.’
‘That’s not true,’ Joel snapped, before shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, but …’
‘Save it. I’m not going to stand here being treated like some old fool.’ Rubbing his face, William turned from him and stormed back out the door. ‘And don’t try and make peace with me in front of your mother, because it’s not going to work, and I don’t want to upset her any more than you already have.’ His heavy footsteps and laboured breath faded quickly as he stomped away.
His father was infuriating. Joel would have preferred a one-to-one chat with the devil himself than deal with his bitter disappointment. If only he could tell him why he left, maybe, just maybe, his father would find forgiveness in his heart. Perhaps he should approach everything from that angle, explain to Juliette how he needed to bring it all out in the open so he could mend the broken bridge between him and his father. But would she see his side, or feel he was being selfish by asking her to reveal her deep dark secret for his sake?
It was a fine line.
He had to walk it.
He made a snap decision to go for a wander. He needed a little time out in nature, by himself, before working with Dynamite, to clear his head and calm down. There’d be no winning Dynamite over when he was in a frustrated mood – the horse would pick it up immediately. Not a good way to start training and bonding. Stepping out of the tack room, he strolled to the back of the outbuilding and looked to where a path circled through the scrub bordering the eastern side of the farm and then split. One way led up to the ridgeline, with jaw-dropping views of the small township. The other way, an ugly scar through picturesque countryside, was a shortcut to his worst nightmare – the banks of Little Heart River. He’d only been back there once, reluctantly, to find the engagement ring he’d been planning to slip on Juliette’s finger. His grandmother’s one-and-a-half carat diamond ring had been with him ever since, and now sat back in the velvet box tucked away in his sock drawer. He still hoped he’d get the chance to fall in love again, so he could get married and have a family. He so wished it could be with Juliette.