Lilliana Rose
A Dusty Christmas
By Lilliana Rose
Copyright 2019 Lilliana Rose
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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This book has been written using US English, but the book’s story is set in Australia. Some euphemisms that form part of the Australian spoken word may be used. If you would like further explanation, or to discuss Australia, please do not hesitate to contact the author. Contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
Book design by Swish Design & Editing
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Kellie at Book Cover by Design
Published by Infinity Dreaming
First Edition 2019
Cover Image Copyright 2019
It’s been nearly a year since Blaise moved to the country in the name of love, and Dusty opened her heart to a city boy. It hasn’t been smooth sailing for either of them. This is their first Christmas together, and it could make or break them.
Has he proven his worth as a city boy to be able to survive living on the farm? Does he really need to prove himself, or is Dusty expecting too much?
When things begin to go wrong with the harvest, it’s not Blaise Dusty is forced to turn to, but their neighbor, and her ex, Aaron. Will this harm her relationship with Blaise? After all, out here in the middle of nowhere, people have to rely on their neighbors to survive, no matter what conflicts might have arisen in the past.
Blaise wants to move to the farm, but Dusty is hesitant. Can she really trust him? The irrational doubt has risen from nowhere, and she’s grappling to work through it. It doesn’t help that the farm is also her mom’s home and three can be a crowd.
Can they work out their differences and make the final commitment to a future together?
To my sister, Annette,
keep on farming on.
This book has been written using US English, but the book’s story is set in Australia. Some euphemisms that form part of the Australian spoken word may be used. If you would like further explanation, or to discuss Australia, please do not hesitate to contact the author. Contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.
Akubra – Felt hat traditionally worn by farmers.
Auger – Is used to raise and transport grain from the ground to the top of grain bins, load trucks, or carry feed.
Bloody – A swear word used to emphasize a comment or angry statement.
Boxing Day – Holiday celebrated the day after Christmas Day.
Bush – Refers to sparsely settled areas of Australia, usually scrub-covered or forested wilderness.
Chook – A hen or chicken.
Combine – Refers to the part of the harvester which is in front and has moving blades to cut the stalks of the crop.
Combine Harvester – A versatile machine designed to efficiently harvest a variety of grain crops.
Cuppa – A cup of tea.
Drove me batty – Frustrated to the point of exasperation.
Durum Wheat – Also called pasta wheat or macaroni wheat – it has a very high protein content relative to normal wheat but is low in gluten.
Esky – Portable cooler or icebox.
Fisticuffs – Fighting with the fists.
Hard Yakka – Australian workwear including shoes.
Header – A implement that can be mounted on the front of a harvester enabling it to cut crops or perform other crop-related activities.
Iffy – Full of uncertainty and doubt.
Jubilee cake – A light fruit cake.
Mate – Refers to a friend.
Mob – A group of sheep also known as a flock or herd.
Pub – Hotel.
Rossi – Brand of boots.
Royal Adelaide Show – Annual agricultural show in Adelaide South Australia.
Service Station – Gas filling station.
Smoko – A short break from work.
Take Away – Takeout food.
Ute – A utility vehicle or pick-up truck.
Wanker – A general insult and used as abuse.
Wrangler – Clothing designed in Australia for our unique environment.
Blurb
Dedication
Information and Dictionary
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Acknowledgments
Connect With Me Online
About the Author
Wednesday, December 18th, 2019
Dusty Miller stepped down from the cab of the John Deere combine harvester. Her steel-toe work boots thumped on the grated metal steps, the sound lost in the roar from the engine. Her body stiff from sitting for nearly three hours straight, and her mind tired from concentrating lining up the rotating ‘cutting bar’ or header, to cut the wheat stalks. It was important not to miss any of the crop.
Fortunately, this year the crop was good, thick and tall, unlike last year where it was short, which meant the header had to be set very low to the ground and was at risk of getting damaged by rocks. Each stalk’s worth money in the bank, and there was a big need to fill the coffers, the crops were after all, a major income for her farm, Acacia Plains, on the Yorke Peninsula. She’d been running the farm for the last three years since her father died of a heart attack.
In a way, it was just another harvest. But this year was a little different. She wasn’t single.
Nearly a year ago, hot accountant, Blaise Johns, had come into her life, and it was as if her country life collided with his city life in a humungous bang, leaving them attracted to each other.
This year, while going around and around each paddock, first harvesting the barley, and now the durum wheat, her mind easily became distracted with thoughts of him. And their future.
Had he proved himself as a worthy man to work on the land with her?
Bloody hell, he had so much to learn, and while there was an attraction, a brewing love, Dusty simply wasn’t sure Blaise was the right man to commit to. These thoughts had festered during the long hours she’d spent driving the combine. Her time on the header, broken up with the trips in the truck delivering the grain to the silos about thirty minutes away.
She was pleased the barley was given malt grade and not destined for a lower price if graded feed quality for stock. It was a huge job to be doing by herself, and in what was very much a man’s world.
Luckily her neighbor, Aaron Jackson, hadn’t crossed her path. He was still off licking his wounds after she’d sent him packing, and Blaise had punched him one. The problem was that out here, you needed to rely on your neighbors to survive, and she hoped a time wouldn’t come when she might have to call on him for help.
At least Blaise was willing to give things a go, even though it usually meant jobs took
much longer since he was still very much clueless.
The niggle returned to her stomach. Would he really stick it out here on the farm with her? It was a hard life, and just because he’d been here for a year, did that mean he would manage a forever? Why did the doubt come up like this?
Hot air blew around her, teasing the loose strands of her light brown hair from the messy bun she’d tied it into this morning before dawn, bringing her attention back to the job at hand. She needed a sample of grain to check the moisture just to be sure. It had been an unusually cool night, and the moisture was a bit iffy this morning. Based on the hot day, she figured everything would be fine. If the moisture was too high, then when delivering the grain to the silos they could refuse it. That would be a disaster. She already had enough doubt floating around in her head, so she figured it was time to test again. Besides, it meant she’d have a bit of a break from sitting at the wheel.
Dusty forced her legs to move, ignoring the mild pins and needles in her right foot, and she made her way to the back of the harvester. The north wind’s breath was strong today, and rattled the cut stalks of the wheat crop she was nearly halfway through harvesting.
The temperature kept increasing, and at this rate, it was soon going to be too hot to keep reaping. With all this machinery, a spark could easily be made, and in this heat with the crop providing fuel, the chance of a spark igniting a fire was a very real one.
So far, the day hadn’t been announced by the Bureau of Meteorology, or the BOM, as being a total fire ban. Because of that, she was out trying to get the last paddock harvested before Christmas. Since Christmas was in a week, time was beginning to go against her.
There was one more paddock to harvest, the one next to this one, and at 250 acres, this was the biggest paddock and was going to take time—more than usual, since the yields were up. But with the hot weather and potential fire bans being put into place, there was a risk that the harvest wouldn’t be finished before Christmas. That was one goal her father had when he was alive—to have the crops reaped by Christmas. Dusty planned on continuing with this expectation. She didn’t manage it last year, but this year she was determined to.
It meant that Christmas felt like Christmas if the harvest was completed, and it meant that she would be more relaxed and could be grateful, instead of worrying about getting it finished before the crops might end up damaged.
This year she’d put in just over the usual thousand acres of barley and wheat crops, choosing yet again not to go with canola as a crop. The yellow flowers it produced were pretty swaying in the paddocks, but the smell, well, it was like dirty socks. Plus, she needed to purchase different machinery to harvest the rapeseed crops of canola, and that was definitely not in the budget. Even with Blaise’s specialized help as an accountant, there had been more of a return at tax time, but like most farms, there was always a need for more money.
Dusty picked up the empty tin she kept tucked away at the back of the combine, climbed up the ladder, her legs now remembering how to move. She opened the little hatch then scooped up some grain. It was looking good with not too much other plant rubbish in with the wheat seeds. Balancing the tin full of seeds, she closed the hatch, and clambered back down to the ground.
She went over to the truck where she kept the moisture testing unit. First, she used an ancient coffee hand grinder, it was what her grandfather had used, or so the story went. She tipped in some seeds, then turned the handle until they were a fine dust. She tipped a little into the machine—the reading was perfect—and she sighed. This was one situation where it was better to be safe than sorry, especially after this morning’s reading. Just because the weather was warm didn’t mean that the moisture was going to be low.
Dusty put away the testing unit, took a swig of water, and returned the tin. She climbed back into the combine once more, her muscles protesting from having to go back to the sitting position at the wheel. She moved forward a little, then stopped, flicked the level so the auger moved out over the truck, using her mirrors to ensure she was, in fact, in the right position. When she was sure everything was lined up, she hit another switch. Grain flowed like water into the truck. It would be a disaster if the grain missed the truck and spilled out on to the ground. Years of doing this job meant Dusty had a strong idea and feel of how everything aligned when dealing with such large machinery.
Yesterday, she’d taken a load to the silos, and today she wanted to fill the truck, then she would fill the paddock silos before taking another load to the silos tomorrow. It was more important to harvest the crop, but she didn’t have a lot of space to store the grain, so it was a constant balancing act. With the paddock silos worth tens of thousands of dollars, and while they were a necessity, they were completely out of the budget.
A dust cloud blowing up along the tree line at the far end of the paddock caught her attention. Dusty had been in such a rush to leave this morning that she hadn’t time to put together a packed lunch. All she’d managed to do was fill her water bottles, with ice then water, and grab a banana. Her stomach grumbled. She hoped her mum was bringing some food. If not, then she would use the CB radio and ask her to bring out some sandwiches.
Keeping an eye on the falling grain, she put the combine into gear and inched forward so as the grain didn’t just pile up in one spot and end up slipping over the side. She wondered if she could ever teach, let alone trust Blaise to do this one day. It would help out if he could. But then again, Blaise having a separate income would also help the daily budget.
Dusty couldn’t help remembering how her father was reluctant to teach and trust her. There was a lot of money wrapped up in ensuring the grain was harvested and delivered successfully to the silos. A lot could go wrong—too much—which she knew from experience.
She smiled as a ute turned into the paddock. It was her ute. Mom had remembered. She’d meant to leave a note about the food or at least call. But once on the combine, it was too easy to keep her focus here, besides it was thoughts of Blaise that had been the distraction instead of food. Her stomach grumbled again.
The ute came closer, and she was surprised to see Blaise at the wheel, and her pure-bred Kelpie dog, Ted, on the tray, his head poking out enjoying the ride. Her border collie, Molly, peered out from the other side of the tray. The poor dogs were bored with no sheep work being done right now. Come January with the shearing, they will be working hard.
Enjoy your little holiday now, thought Dusty.
Blaise parked in front of the combine. Dusty noted it was the worst place he could’ve parked. She took a very long, deep breath so as not to tell him off, and to remind herself he really was clueless. And that being patient was the only way to help educate him.
With the last of the grain transferred to the truck, she returned the auger to its nestled position on the side of the combine. She made sure everything was in park, left the engine idling, and then got down to meet Blaise.
“You found me here?” She was harvesting in one of the paddocks at the back of the farm, but the easiest way to get here was along the road.
“Of course.” Blaise smiled proudly as he got out of the ute. He was wearing suit pants, a white shirt with a tie, and polished black boots which already looked like they had a layer of dust over them.
“I’m getting to know my way around.”
“Mom drew you a map.”
“Don’t you have any faith in me? I think I’m doing more than all right in this world of farming.” He stepped forward and caught her in an embrace.
Dusty’s pulse increased. It had been too long since they had some intimate fun. With her focus on the harvest, there had been no time for simply them, and definitely no time for some bedroom fun.
His lips met hers, and Dusty’s thoughts melted as his heat filled her. Her desires spiked. She ran her hands down is back. Bloody hell, he felt good. For a moment, she could almost forget about the harvest, here in his arms, his mouth on hers, lips sucking on hers, and his tongue slipping int
o her mouth.
Dusty made an involuntary noise of delight. Pleasure clouded her mind, and she let it take her away.
“We could… you know.” He pulled away and spoke softly in her ear even though they were the only people around for miles, his hot breath tickling her skin despite the hot weather.
Dusty held her breath. She wanted him. Now. Her body was already responding with the clenching of her lower abdominal muscles with a longing to satisfy the primal need within. The hum of the idling engine behind her brought her back to reality.
“Later.” It was a flippant promise, later could mean any time over the next few weeks.
Blaise sighed, not even hiding his disappointment, and it irritated her.
She was working long, hard hours. “I told you this is what it’s going to be like during harvest,” she spoke a little too sharply.
His eyes looked sad. “I know. And I’m being very patient.”
He was.
He is.
Dusty nodded her head, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. The fire of desire flamed once more through her body. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You bloody better.”
“It will be worth the wait, you know,” she added, before giving him another kiss. If she kept this up, the kissing would end up leading to exactly what she wanted yet was putting off. No, it wasn’t worth the distraction. The harvest was everything. Hell, even now standing here kissing him was wasting valuable time. She needed to step back into the combine and get this paddock reaped. The hot weather forecast could well delay her, and that would be the time for some much-needed hanky-panky with Blaise.
He sighed heavily as she broke the kiss. “Lucky for you I do know.”
Dusty smiled, looked into his eyes, and for a moment nearly completely forgot herself. Then a gust of wind blew around them, pushing up a dusty cloud.
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