by Jewel, Bella
“C’mon, love. Let’s get you a bed for the night.” Doreen places and arm around my shoulder and leads me towards the cottages at the back of the pub.
The next morning I wake at half past five. I’ve always been an early riser and I’ve also been blessed with a liver that filters alcohol well, thus meaning I’ve never experienced a hangover. I stand up out of the bed and look down. Doreen must have taken my boots off when she put me to bed. I don’t think I would have been able to coordinate my limbs to achieve the task so it must have been Dory. I make the bed and leave the cottage. The sun is just beginning to peek its head over the hills in the distance, but there’s not a sound outside to be heard. I walk out the side gate and make my way towards my mums coffee house to work the morning shift. My heart still aches from the loss of Jarrah, but it’s also beating wildly erratically as I walk down the vacant street. That’s because I’m wondering if I’ll see Jeremy. Hoping I’ll see him is more like it. I wonder if he remembers our kiss last night. Does he regret it? Does he want to do it again? God knows I want to do it again. And again. I want to do a lot of naughty things with Jeremy Henley.
“Ava, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you in this morning.” My mum’s greeting snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Hey mum. It’s fine. I feel better today.”
“You shouldn’t! Skip told me he saw you at the pub yesterday with a bottle of tequila. Really, Ava!” She admonishes me.
“For fucks sake, mum. Give me a break.”
“Ava! Please. At least try to act like a lady. Maybe you should spend some more time with Kennedy. You don’t see her at the pub with whole bottles of tequila, do you? Why couldn’t you just have a glass of wine, like a lady?”
Of course. Kennedy is fucking brilliant. She can do no wrong. If only my parents knew what a little slut she was, they wouldn’t think she was so lady like!
“Whatever, mum. I’m here to work. If you don’t need me I’ll go home and see if dad needs a hand.” My tone is bored, because this conversation is boring and old. I hear the same shit every time I cuss.
“Well, you’re here now, you might as well stay put.”
No surprises there.
I left the shop after the lunch rush was over. After arriving home, I grabbed a shower and then my day officially turned to shit.
“How was your night?” Kennedy asks as I’m towel drying my hair.
“Drunken,” I reply sarcastically.
“Jeremy a good screw isn’t he? He’s the best I’ve had… by far,” she comments sweetly. I turn to look at her. I’m shocked. I mean, I know that she’s spent a ton of time with both the Henley boys over the years, but I never ever even considered that she’d slept with one of them.
“What?” I ask sounded choked. I know I shouldn’t give her any sign of emotion to use as leverage, but I can’t help it.
“Oh,” she gasps, appearing shocked, but it’s fake. I could slap her. “You didn’t know?” A burst of laughter escapes her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ava. But I do remember telling you some time ago that you wouldn’t find a man in this town who wasn’t giving you my sloppy seconds. Did you forget?” Her face is a picture of smugness. I want to rip her hair out and punch her in the face, wiping the arrogant look right off. I don’t though. Instead, I try my best to look as blank as possible as I flip my hair back over my shoulder and mutter, “Whatever, Kennedy.”
“Oh my god!” she screeches. “He didn’t fuck you, did he? Ha! Most likely because he doesn’t want second best. I bet you feel like a worthless piece of shit, Ava,” she grins spitefully.
“Fuck. Off. Kennedy,” I spit, annunciating every word slowly and forcefully.
“Oh, Ava, Ava, Ava,” she tuts, “I also specifically remember telling you that no guy in this town would want you, and this just proves my point.” She skips away giggling like a fucking school girl.
What’s the going jail sentence for murder these days? I could argue mental impairment or something, surely…
With a heavy heart and tears stinging the back of my eyes, I walk towards the stables. I have so many angry thoughts running through my head, I just need to escape. I saddle up my horse, Sampson. Dad and I brought him two years ago when we put Jarrah out to pasture. He’s a massively built buckskin gelding stock horse. He’s bred from quality lines and after only a few months of training he quickly became one of the best mustering horses on our property. I put my left foot in the stirrup and boost myself up, swinging my right leg over his back. I adjust myself in the saddle and put my iPod ear buds in my ears. I find the song I need and press repeat. After a swift kick in the ribs, we’re cantering up the paddock. I feel the cold wind hitting the tears streaming down my face, but I don’t care. I just keep riding as I concentrate on the words Brooks and Dunn are singing with Reba McEntire in Cowgirls Don’t Cry.
Her daddy gave her her first pony,
Then told her to ride.
She climbed high in that saddle,
Fell I don't know how many times.
He taught her a lesson that she learned,
Maybe a little too well,
Cowgirls don't cry, ride, baby, ride,
Lessons in life are gonna show you in time,
Soon enough you gonna know why,
It's gonna hurt every now and then,
If you fall get back on again,
Cowgirls don't cry.
I slow Sampson to a walk and pull him under a shady tree. I climb off and tie his reigns around a branch before collapsing on the ground. With the music still playing in my ears and tears still running down my cheeks, I try to slow the thoughts swirling in my head.
Jeremy is the only man I’ve ever wanted. I’ve loved him my entire life. I’ve never even entertained the thoughts of any other man because he’s been the only one for me. But I don’t want someone that’s had my sister. I want someone who’s just mine.
I take a deep breath, contented with the life changing decision I’ve made and ride Sampson back to the house to break the news to my father and mother, who should be home from work by now.
They’re both sitting at the table, sipping coffee when I walk in.
“How’s my girl feeling today? You been out on Sampson?”
“Hey daddy. I’m okay, I feel better now that I’ve had a ride.”
“Good, darlin’. You just have to keep in mind that she’s not in pain anymore.”
“I know. Actually, I wanted to talk to you both about something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.” I twist my hands together in my lap, all of a sudden overcome with nerves.
“Well, go on,” my mother encourages.
“I want to go to France and work as an Au Pair for a while.” My words come out in a nervous rush.
“What’s an old pear and why do you have to go to France for it? I know they eat snails and shit over there but you can get rotting pears off any tree ‘round here. You know that.” My father looks at me, perplexed.
I look at him adoringly and laugh a little before answering. “Not an old pear, an Au Pair – it’s a French term for a Nanny; a child minder. What do you think?”
“Have you looked into the specifics?” My mother asks.
“I have. I’ve been researching on the internet. Most of the jobs come with accommodation, so I wouldn’t even have to find a place to live. A girl I knew at school runs an agency in Paris and she said she’d be happy to help me find a family to work for.” I don’t tell her that I’d already organized the paperwork I’d need. I also don’t tell her that my decision to go was wholly based on her slut daughter fucking the only man I ever wanted.
“Well, Elizabeth, what do you think?” My dad asks my mum.
“I think it sounds like a great opportunity, Ava. I think it will do you the world of good.”
I beam at mum despite her little dig about it doing me the world of good. What she means is, maybe I’ll return as a refined lady.
“Dad?” I look to my father, Michael.
“I ag
ree with your mother. When are you thinking of going?”
“Sooner rather than later, actually. I’ve really only got to book flights and then I’m good to go.” I stand up out of my seat and go to my father first. Wrapping my arms around him, I whisper in his ear, “Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replies gruffly.
I release him and hug my mother. Not as tight though. She prefers a delicate, loose hug with a limp pat on the back.
The earliest flight I could book was two weeks away.
Then, I was on my flight, bound for Paris, France
I spent the next three and a bit years working for the Rousseau family. The two children I minded were delightful and well-mannered little beings whose parents were pillars of society in their community. The boy, Enzo, was seven and his sister, Mathilde, was six. They both attended an elite private school during the day, which left me a few hours of free time. My basic routine was to get them out of bed, fed and dressed and off to school on time. Unless there was something specific that Mr. and Mrs. Rousseau had requested I do, school hours were my own. I explored and shopped. I spent a great deal of time in silent contemplation; thinking about Jeremy and me, then Jeremy and my sister.
Slowly but surely, my heart started to mend. I met a wonderful French man named Gaston. We met at the park one day; he was there walking his dog, I was there reading in the sunshine. He wasn’t the most beautiful looking specimen, but he had a heart of gold that more than made up for his lacking in the looks department. I loved seeing his dimple appear when I made him laugh. Even more, I loved hearing him say my name in his sexy-as-hell French accent. He was the complete opposite of Jeremy and just what I need. He was a businessman and wore suits. He spoke good English and treated me like a queen. We’d been together for about two months when I gave him my virginity. He was sweet, caring and gentle. It didn’t hurt like I thought it would, but I remembered reading somewhere a long time ago that sometimes horse riding can rupture a woman’s hymen. It seems that was true for me because there was no searing pain like I had imagined there would be.
Gaston and I became close, but we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere. He was climbing the corporate ladder in his dad’s company and I would soon be heading back to Australia. We’d been seeing each other for around ten months when the time came for us to say au revoir. I said a tearful goodbye to Enzo, Mathilde and their parents and after Gaston drove me to the airport.
“Bébé, vous êtes si précieux à moi,” Gaston whispered in my ear as we hugged tightly in the departing lounge. I’d learned plenty of French since I’d lived here – my mum and dad had even remarked that I’d picked up a bit of an accent myself – so I could understand a lot of what people said to me. Sometimes it was difficult if they spoke really fast, but as long as I could pick up a few words here and there, I could generally piece together what they were saying.
“You’re precious to me, too,” I choked back.
“Vous êtes mon amour et je vous manquerai.” He looked me directly in the eye and said the words so sincerely; I couldn’t help but let a sob escape. His beautiful words meant you are my love and I will miss you.
I kissed him on the mouth and whispered, “Je t'aime. I love you.” Then I boarded my plane and headed for a country I’d missed beyond belief, my Australia.
I’m nervous on the flight back. Mainly because I haven’t spoken to my sister since I left. She hasn’t tried to contact me so I haven’t made the effort either. My parents have kept me informed about her work and how proud they are of her. Oh and we’re proud of you as well, Ava. Yeah, that’s me – always a fucking afterthought. I had bitten my tongue every time I wanted to ask about Jeremy – which was a lot – so I had no idea how he was or what he had been doing. I was excited and nervous to see him again and I couldn’t help but wonder if my old feelings would resurface. I had successfully managed to rebuild my shattered heart while I was away and I was feeling good about going home. I was ready. It was time.
“Oh, Ava,” My mum gasps, “Look at you! All grown up.” She pulls me in for a loose hug with a customary pat on the back before holding me at arm’s length to look me over. When I first moved abroad, I had gotten my hair cut into a sharp bob just below my ears. When I left, it was half way down my back, so the change was a bit dramatic. I also wore a cute little beret. My fingernails were now long and manicured – something I knew would have to change once I got back to the Station; you couldn’t have long nails when working on a property.
I can’t explain the feelings I felt when my mum drove through the gates of our property. Seeing that big wooden sign declaring, Holderwood Station, was surreal. I felt giddy. A big grin spread across my face as I remember something that has sprung to my mind every single time I’ve driven past that sign. When I was a child, my mum used to tell us it was “Hollywood Station”, not Holderwood. She used to beg our father to change the name. He refused, sensibly so, if you ask me. But that didn’t stop our mother sighing, Hollywood Station, every time she passed through the gates.
Ahh, it’s good to be home.
Chapter Fourteen
The first few days after I arrived home were hectic. I was busting to take Sampson for a ride. For a horse lover like me, not riding for almost four years was torture. I also had to deal with a bitch called jetlag. It really takes it out of you.
I’d been home for three days before Kennedy came to visit. Three whole drama-free, bitch-free, blissful days.
“Kennedy couldn’t get off work, dear. Otherwise she would have been here sooner.” My mother tries to make excuses for her prodigy daughter.
Bullshit she would have been here. Thank god she has a job.
I use the word job loosely though – my sister is not a fan of hard work. Actually, she’s not a fan of any work. She’s employed by an overweight, old, greasy-haired man named Frank. Her job is to sit at the front counter of his car lot and look pretty. She wears skimpy, tight clothing to distract potential buyers so they end up buying a car they probably don’t really want. She answers the phone in a voice you would imagine a phone sex operator using, and the only reason she keeps her job is because she’s fucking Frank. Yeah, she’s seriously fucking a disgusting man old enough to be her father. Yuck! Our parents don’t know that, obviously.
“Ava!” Kennedy squeals when she spots me in the kitchen. Anyone would think she actually missed me.
She runs toward me and gives me a hug. “Have you put on weight? You look fatter.” She says the words quietly, so only I can hear.
“Fuck off, Kennedy,” I chirp back.
“So, what’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” Mum, Kennedy and I are sitting around the table, drinking coffee and eating leftover pastries that weren’t sold at the Coffee House today.
“Well, let’s see. Scott and Maggie Henley retired. They took off traveling around Australia. They’ve since returned and left again. Jeremy and Jackson have taken over the property. Jackson built himself a house on the other side of the property – he runs the cropping part of the Station now. Jeremy lives in the main house with Oscar and he takes care of the cattle.”
No surprise that the only news she has to tell me is about the Henleys.
“Who’s Oscar?”
“Oh! Ava, I just thought of a fantastic idea.” My mother claps and beams like she’s just struck gold.
“Again, Mum. Who’s Oscar?” I ask, a little impatiently.
I look to Kennedy and she has a smug, all-knowing grin on her perfect face. She hasn’t changed a bit since I’ve been away - in looks or personality. She’s still got the same long, shiny chocolate brown hair, the same perfectly proportioned body and the same flawless skin. And she’s still a mega bitch.
“Why, he’s Jeremy’s son, of course. I thought I told you. Maybe I just told Kennedy.” Her words fade off; drowned out by the sound of my heart breaking.
Other Titles By Kasey Millstead
Loving Kyle
Brutal Discoveries
Undercover
Family Secrets
Liar Liar
Beneath Your Beautiful
All of Me
Illicit Desire
Cowboy Town
Sky Cowboy
Cowboy Dreams
Tatted Cowboy
Rogue Cowboy
Cowboy Redemption
Cowboy Endings
Convoluted
Consequences
Hummingbird
Screw You
Fighting For Switch
Cowboy Christmas
Dancing with Desire
Fighting to Stay
Acknowledgments
Troy – God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you...
To my four beautiful babies – I love you beyond measure.
To Mel and Wurry, I think “I II III IV III II” says it all. Mwah.
Thanks to Meri for listening to me rant and rave and for letting me bounce ideas of you.
Thanks to my mum and dad, the best parents, ever. And an extra special thanks to my mum who implanted a deep love of reading in me at a young age by reading The Adventures of Blinky Bill & Nutsy to me every night when I was a little girl.
“If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
Stephen King
Lastly, thank you to each and every one of you that reads this book. You are making my dreams come true.
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Goodreads.com – Kasey Millstead
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LOVE MY WAY
Kate Sterritt
Love My Way
Copyright © 2017 by Kate Sterritt