Beneath Outback Skies

by Alissa Callen

  Paige swallowed. Mrs Jessop couldn’t know they were accepting paying guests. Paige had worked so hard to maintain appearances, to pretend she and her father were surviving the drought and that it was business as usual on Banora Downs.

  Tait’s voice rumbled again in her ear. ‘She looks very interested in you … and me.’ Even as he spoke, Mrs Jessop pushed her empty trolley towards them, her plum-coloured mouth sporting a curious smile at seeing Paige standing hip-to-hip with a sexy stranger.

  Paige stepped away from Tait. She needed to pick her fights and right now she needed to make a strategic retreat.

  ‘Okay, you can buy the groceries this time. But if there is anything you haven’t personally used by the time you leave,’ she looked at the pink soap as Sarah placed it in the bag, ‘I’ll reimburse you.’

  ‘Deal.’

  Paige barely heard Tait’s reply as she busied herself collecting grocery bags. ‘Take care, Sarah, and give my love to your parents. When this drought breaks tell your dad I won’t forget to call and ask him to lend me a hand.’

  Arms laden, she headed for the automatic doors. Paige pasted a polite smile on her lips as she passed Mrs Jessop. ‘Sorry, Myra, can’t stop. Dad needs me at home.’ Then not even giving Mrs Jessop a chance to protest, she powered through the automatic doors. Heat engulfed her. Cicadas in the nearby trees deafened her. The weight of the bags pulled on her hands but she didn’t slow her pace. So what if Mrs Jessop believed Paige had climbed down from her tower of spinsterhood? Let people think what they wanted. Any rumour about her love life was preferable to people knowing she and Connor were doing it tough and having to accept paying guests.

  Her mother’s family, the Reillys, and once the Sinclairs, were the district’s oldest and most respected families. Over the generations they’d battled droughts, floods, locust plagues and volatile commodity markets, and still they survived. They were living proof of the resilience of the outback spirit. Should it become common knowledge they were struggling, the belief that other farmers clung onto that they too could survive would fade. Paige glanced in the direction of the town cemetery that lay a five-minute drive from the grocery store. She and Connor had already attended far too many funerals of farmers and farmers’ sons whose hands had held guns and their hearts no hope.

  Tait’s tread sounded on the car park concrete. He matched his stride to hers, transferred his bags to his left hand and thrust out his right one. ‘Here, pass me the heavy items.’

  She ignored the muscle burn in her arms and the query in his eyes. ‘I’m used to lugging stuff, besides your car’s just here.’

  She lowered the bags onto the ground and made sure the brim of her Akubra hid her expression. She knew if she turned around Mrs Jessop’s face would be pressed against the shop window. The sooner the groceries were loaded, the sooner she could take their headline-grabbing guest back to the safety of Banora Downs.

  The car’s keyless entry system beeped and she opened the boot to lift out the blue esky.

  ‘Just as well you packed this for all the cold items,’ Tait said as he passed her a bottle of milk to place into the cooler. ‘We’ll now have time for coffee.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’ She straightened. ‘You had a mug only at breakfast.’

  ‘Breakfast was hours ago. Unlike you, I don’t run on fresh air.’ He placed a container of butter into the esky.

  ‘We don’t have time. I must get home to Dad.’

  ‘If I remember correctly,’ Tait’s tone was lazy, ‘your father’s parting words were “Take as long as you need.”’

  ‘No, they weren’t.’ Her reply emerged more of a snap than a statement. ‘He said, “See you back at lunch.” Well, it’s lunchtime now.’

  Tait closed the esky lid. ‘Exactly, which is even more of a reason why I need a coffee.’

  He lifted the cooler into the boot, settled the rest of the grocery bags into the remaining space and slammed the boot shut.

  ‘So where do you recommend?’

  ‘I don’t drink coffee.’

  He turned to look down the main street, deserted except for a handful of dusty utes with bullbars on the front and dozing dogs in the back. He didn’t need any coffee-finding app on his mobile phone to locate the closest café-latte. ‘Look, there’s a coffee place between the chemist and the newsagent.’ And without waiting for her reply he strode across the street.

  ‘Freaking city boys,’ Paige muttered beneath her breath as she followed. He hadn’t even checked for traffic before stepping out onto the road like he owned it. How did he know Glenalla wouldn’t have a mid-morning rush hour suddenly? On school mornings and afternoons the traffic was known to be almost bumper-to-bumper for a whole block. Her forehead pounded. Her feet dragged. The day couldn’t get any worse.

  Drink it, Paige. You know you want to.

  Tait forced his attention away from the mug of hot chocolate that sat untouched before her. He took a gulp of coffee and waited for the caffeine to speed through his veins. Paige was officially one-of-a-kind. He’d never encountered such mule-headed stubbornness or such an expressive face. Following her in the grocery store, it hadn’t taken him long to pinpoint the exact items missing from her life. At the chocolate aisle she’d licked her lips. When she’d glanced at the soaps her eyelids had fluttered. She’d done the same thing when the waitress had placed a chicken salad in front of her. But it now suffered the same fate as her hot chocolate. He placed his mug on the table and counted to ten.

  ‘How are you going to explain not eating a single mouthful to that very nice waitress who appears to be a friend of yours?’

  Paige gave him a hard stare. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Yes, you are. You had a small piece of toast for breakfast and your stomach started rumbling in the second grocery aisle.’

  Her fingers strangled a silver fork. ‘I’m. Not. Hungry.’

  He drained his coffee mug. A scalding heat burned the length of his oesophagus but it was nothing compared with the frustration spiking his blood pressure. Her obstinacy was beyond exasperating.

  ‘Suit yourself. But the meal is paid for, I’ve eaten and, as you said, we should be getting back.’ He stood. ‘I’ll visit the shop next door while your head continues to argue with your stomach.’

  Once out of the coffee shop Tait slowed his steps long enough to see Paige pick up the fork and smile at the waitress who slid into the seat he’d just left. A short time later, when Paige joined him next door, she gave him a nod before drifting to the end of the shop. Every now and then her fingers would touch an item of clothing. The overhead light picked out the auburn strands of the long brown ponytail that fell below her Akubra.

  He pulled an oilskin vest from a hanger and tried it on. If in the small confines of a narrow building she stayed as far away from him as possible, he’d no doubt that as soon as they returned to Banora Downs she’d do the same. But ditching him wasn’t going to happen. He still was no closer to getting a handle on her. He shrugged off the vest and hung it over his arm. He had to find out the real person beneath the battered hat and behind all the bravado.

  Paige retraced her steps to stop at the counter. She smiled at the elderly store owner who was packing items of clothing into a big box. ‘Need any help, Steve?’

  ‘No thanks, love.’ The lines of his face disappeared as he returned her smile. ‘You’ve filled enough of my shelves when you were home from boarding school.’ His voice softened. ‘How are you? How’s your dad?’

  Her head dipped as she pulled a pair of work gloves from the box and studied them. Tait failed to read her expression beneath the brim of her hat. He moved to a pile of folded navy work shirts on a nearby shelf in order to catch her reply.

  ‘We’re good, thanks. Dad says to say hello.’

  The shop owner nodded his grizzled head. ‘If there’s ever anything you need …’

  Her head lifted. She returned the gloves to the box and placed her hand over the old man’s. Her sweet smile shone brig
hter than any of the silver belt buckles in the cabinet Tait now pretended to study.

  ‘Thanks. It’ll rain again. Sometime. But in the meantime we’re doing fine. How about you? I know business is slow.’

  Steve’s thin shoulders moved in a sigh. ‘It is and won’t pick up anytime soon. But you know …’ He smiled again. ‘Today is my lucky day.’

  ‘Lucky day?’

  ‘Yes.’ He patted the pile of clothes filling the box. ‘See all these. Five pairs of gloves. Five pairs of jeans. Shirts. Akubra. Work boots. Dress boots. I’ve sold them all.’

  ‘Sold them? To whom?’

  Tait approached on silent feet. ‘To me.’

  She swung around as if he’d stuck one of his EpiPen needles into her shoulder.

  ‘These are work clothes.’ She spoke through clenched teeth. ‘For getting dirty. Why on earth will you need …?’ Her amber eyes widened before her mouth sealed itself shut.

  ‘That’s right. I need more than cobwebs to have the true outback experience.’ He added the vest to the items in the box and grinned. ‘What else would I wear when I work out in the paddocks with you?’

  Chapter Three

  From the sliver of light stealing beneath Connor’s bedroom blind he knew it would soon be dawn. He rubbed at the sharp ache in his leg that had become as much a part of him as the scar tissue on his right thigh. But it wasn’t pain robbing him of sleep, it was doubt. A doubt so stubborn, so subversive, it refused to listen to anything he said.

  His heavy sigh echoed around the room. If only Molly was here, she’d know what to say to make him feel better about what he’d done. Molly had always known what to say, even with her last breath. She’d looked up at him and whispered, ‘It’s time. I love you.’ With the life dulling in her gentle eyes, she’d clutched at his arm. ‘Don’t let the past … poison yours and Paige’s … future.’

  Then she was gone, leaving him with nothing but a splintered soul and a silent shadow for a daughter. Paige may have grown into a beautiful, resilient woman, just like her mother. But this past year he’d seen her spark gradually dim and smudges of fatigue become permanent fixtures beneath her eyes. She’d lost weight, barely slept, and he’d been powerless to lighten her burden until Anne, the local librarian, had sent a box of newspapers for him to read. There, in full colour in the Sydney social pages, he’d seen the answer to his prayers. Life mightn’t have always dealt him a flush hand but as he’d stared at Tait Cavanaugh, CEO of AgriViz, a premier agricultural consultancy company, he knew life had been trying to make amends. If anyone could help his stubborn daughter it was this man who stared down the camera lens confident that he could take on the world.

  It’d taken several attempts but finally he’d been put through to Tait’s personal line. After some key words that he knew would capture Tait’s interest, the agreement to create a farm business plan had been reached. It appeared coming out to remote Banora Downs suited Tait, for not only had he offered to do the plan himself but he’d also volunteered to do the work pro bono. It seemed Tait’s marketing department would be very keen to secure a testimonial from a property as iconic as Banora Downs.

  Connor sighed again. He just wanted Paige to have a life again and to have some fun. Not all blokes were as gutless and as selfish as her city-ex, Chris. But had he done the right thing bringing Tait into their lives? He’d thought so yesterday when Tait and Paige had returned from town. While Paige had exited the car as though her feet were on fire, there had been colour in her cheeks. And despite her aversion to Tait’s presence after dinner, she’d lingered a little longer than usual. He rubbed at his leg. But in the darkness of pre-dawn, when the doubt demons snarled and snapped, he wasn’t so sure.

  She’d give him one day.

  Paige stood in the darkened hallway and rapped on Tait’s bedroom door. Make that half a day. Mr I-Want-to-Experience-the-Outback wouldn’t last more than an hour in the paddocks. Well, that’s if he ever woke up. Her hand lifted again just as the door creaked open.

  Backlit by the bedroom light, Tait’s bare shoulders filled the doorway. ‘Paige? What’s wrong?’

  Words shrivelled on her tongue. She didn’t know what held her silent. The golden-toned flesh above a pair of blue cotton boxers or the concern thickening his sleepy voice.

  ‘Nothing. It’s time to wake up.’

  ‘Wake up?’

  ‘Yes. We can’t leave all your shiny new work gear in the cupboard, now can we?’

  His left hand rubbed his chest in hypnotic circles as if confirming this moment was real and not some bad dream. Her eyes followed the movement of his hand. The muscle distribution in livestock might be her area of expertise but even she could appreciate the perfection of Tait’s torso. She refocused on his face.

  ‘Wakey, wakey,’ she said as she waved steaming coffee under his nose, ‘there are animals to feed, dams to check.’

  Tait took hold of the mug. His palms cupped the sides like she’d just given him the keys to a custom-made sports car. She found herself smiling. Give Tait a coffee and he was putty in her hands. The day might prove to be not such a disaster after all.

  ‘There’s a refill downstairs as well as breakfast. If you can tear yourself away from the coffee pot, I’ll meet you at the ute in ten minutes.’

  The echo of Tait’s groan followed her down the stairs. She reached the back verandah and breathed in the crisp air. This was her favourite time of day. She cast a quick glance towards the eastern horizon. Soon the first tentative rays would herd away the cool darkness and grow in strength until by lunchtime she’d be battling the midday heat as well as Tait’s iron will.

  She bent to pick up Dusty’s metal dog bowl. Why did Tait insist on helping her? For someone who’d paid top dollar for solitude, he went out of his way to seek her company. She’d guarantee it wasn’t for her witty conversation or her feminine charms. Careful not to waste a drop, she filled the bowl with water from the tap beside her and set it on the floorboards. If she’d been in a rock band her ripped jeans would be fashionable but out here her wardrobe was only an ever-present reminder of how desperate things had become.

  She straightened to rub at her stiff back. An unfamiliar restlessness tugged within her. She’d never cared before about what she wore. It was too late to start now. Tait would be used to women draped in haute couture, not dust, and who smelled of perfume, not diesel. She stepped off the verandah onto the hard ground. There could be no way Tait had attached himself to her like a burr to a saddle blanket because he wanted her company. That elusive, discordant note in his voice when he’d brushed off her enquiry of how he’d found out about Banora Downs continued to plague her. She settled her hat more firmly onto her head. Something else had to be going on.

  Tait shifted in a vain attempt to get comfortable on the lumpy ute passenger seat. His gluteus maximus wouldn’t be thanking him any time soon.

  Paige slid into the front seat beside him. Beneath her hat her thick ponytail swung across her shoulders. The smell of dust was briefly overlaid by the scent of her apple shampoo. The ute engine grumbled into life. He stared out into the dim, grey light. What an hour to be awake. The birds hadn’t even stopped snoring. But if Paige was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he would be too. Well, maybe after another two cups of coffee.

  She sent the ute hurtling down a narrow track. He steadied the new Akubra that was in danger of bouncing off his knees.

  ‘Guess the ride isn’t quite what you’re used to?’ she said.

  He answered with a grunt. Caffeine still hadn’t quite reached the control centre of his brain. He grabbed at the door arm rest as the ute barrelled through a ditch. In another life Paige had to have been a rally car driver. A bone-jarring corrugation lifted him from his seat. His head hit the roof and he smothered a curse. If Paige was trying to knock sense into him her efforts would be wasted. He wasn’t abandoning his plan to work with her and establish once and for all whether her commitment to her home was genuine.

  The lowing of
cattle sounded above the roar of the engine as Paige stopped alongside a small paddock. Tait opened his door. The long-forgotten methane smell of cattle greeted him, as did the bellow of their hunger. But as feeding containers were filled with grain and hay, a contented silence settled over the herd. When the last of the water troughs were checked, Tait rested his elbows on the top of the metal gate. A strange sense of satisfaction filtered through him. For a short time all was well in the world of the gaunt animals before him.

  Paige came to his side and rested her arms on the gate too. A slight breeze blew her loose blue-striped shirt flush against her chest. Early morning sunlight played over the lower part of her face not shaded by her hat. He stared for a long second, then looked away. He had a business plan to complete and then a past to put to rest. He couldn’t be distracted by feminine curves or by a kissable mouth.

  ‘It’s always so peaceful when they’re finally eating.’ At her words, a cow broke away from the feeding trough and sauntered over before shoving her nose into Paige’s hand.

  Paige rubbed at the white face. ‘Good morning to you too, Miss Polly.’

  ‘I didn’t know farmers named their cows.’

  ‘Blame Connor. I know animals are sometimes seen as burgers on the hoof, but my father has always seen them as more. I guess I do too. If the truth be told, they all have two names.’

  Miss Polly pulled her head away from Paige’s touch. Curious, she turned to Tait, blowing warm air onto his fingers. He lifted a hand to rub the coarse hair on her broad forehead. ‘So what’s this cow’s second name?’

  ‘Princess Polly.’

  Before he could ponder Paige’s accompanying grin, the cow butted his hand. Hard. Bloody hell. He jerked his hand away and shook his fingers. ‘I think a more fitting name is Powerhouse Polly. She sure packs a mean punch.’