Jacaranda

by Mandy Magro

  After Cheryl’s delicious lunch, Molly felt she was going to burst. She unbuttoned the top of her jeans, letting out a huge sigh of relief when the pressure eased. She rested back on her chair, uneasiness making her fidget as she waited for everyone else to finish eating. Molly was normally so relaxed in her aunt and uncle’s company but today her mind kept wandering off elsewhere, torturing her with images of Mark smiling at her on New Year’s Eve and Heath’s penetrating gaze at the dam. She knew Cheryl could sense her preoccupation, as her Aunt kept glancing sideways at her, a worry line creasing her chubby brow.

  Molly’s bladder suddenly started screaming for reprieve so she excused herself from the table. She had to laugh when she sat down on the loo. Cheryl had hung a little sign in the dunny that read, ‘Changing the toilet roll does not cause brain damage!’ What a crack-up.

  She walked back into the kitchen, still feeling uncomfortably full. ‘Hey, Rob, how about you hand me that tea towel and I’ll help Cheryl clean up while you play with Rose.’

  ‘Good idea. I reckon I got the better end of the deal too, getting to muck about with Rose. I love any excuse to be a kid again,’ Rob said as he chucked the tea towel at Molly and disappeared out the kitchen door.

  The women washed up in silence for a few moments before Cheryl loudly cleared her throat, catching Molly’s faraway attention. ‘So, Molly, love, tell your favourite aunty what’s bothering you. You seem a little, well, distracted today. Is everything okay?’

  ‘What do you mean? I’m fine,’ Molly replied, taking a sudden interest in getting the plate she was holding as dry as possible, not wanting to look Cheryl in the eye.

  Cheryl touched her on the arm. ‘Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not yourself, love. Just know I’m here if you want a chat.’

  Molly shook her head gently. ‘You know me too well. I’m just having a bit of man trouble, that’s all – nothing I can’t handle.’

  Cheryl sighed. ‘Ah, men, you can’t live with them, but you can’t live without them. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Who is he?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not really seeing anyone yet. It’s just a guy I’m interested in. I want to wait to see how things go before I tell anyone about him though. It might come to nothing.’

  ‘Well, I’m dying to know who it is,’ Cheryl said, ripping off her bright-pink gloves and hanging them on the tap. She turned to Molly with raised eyebrows. ‘I hope you don’t mind me putting my two bob’s worth in but you know what? I reckon you and Heath would make a great couple. I know you might feel obligated to respect Jenny’s memory, seeing you two were so close, but honestly, love, Jenny’s gone now and there’s nothing we can do about that, and people’s lives have got to go on. Any fool can see that Heath fancies you, and he adores Rose. He’s a decent bloke, and very easy on the eye, too, if I might say so. It’s not Heath, is it?’

  Molly gasped, unable to hide her shock, the memory of kissing Heath flooding back to her in an instant. She instinctively touched her bracelet, fumbling with it, not knowing what to say, the world feeling as though it was spinning beneath her feet. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. ‘Heath, oh no, we’re just good mates.’

  Cheryl touched Molly on the cheek, creating a moment of warmth and understanding. ‘Sometimes, we can be so busy looking for something, we don’t recognise what we already have. And the things we dream of can be right under our noses. Remember, dear, you don’t have to go searching for love – it will find you. You have to believe that. Just trust in your instincts and follow your heart.’

  Molly reached out and hugged her, emotion catching in her throat as tears filled her eyes. ‘I love you so much, Cheryl. Thank you for always caring about me, and Rose.’

  Cheryl squeezed her tight. ‘I love you too, both of you.’

  At four o’clock Molly and Rose said their goodbyes, whistled up Skip, and climbed back into the truck. Just as Molly was about to drive away her mobile phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number, and her heart almost stopped when she heard Mark’s voice after she took the call.

  ‘Hi, Molly Jones. How are you?’

  ‘Hey, I’m great, thanks. How are you?’ Molly tried hard to sound completely normal, but she noticed Rose gave her a curious look.

  ‘I’m good, thanks. Plodding along. Hey, Molly, I was hoping you could do some work on my mare like we talked about on New Year’s. How’s later this week looking for you?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, sure. You can come over on Friday if you like.’

  ‘Great! I just need your address.’

  Molly filled him in.

  ‘Okay, got it, thanks. I’ll call you if I get lost. Look forward to seeing you, Molly.’

  ‘No probs. Catch you then.’ Molly flipped the phone shut and noticed her hands were shaking. She looked across at Rose, now completely focused on playing with Skip on the front seat, and felt a tug at her heart strings. Why had she become so emotional when she was talking to Cheryl? Was it because she was dreading telling Mark about Rose? Or was it because she was afraid she was falling in love with Heath Miller?

  Chapter 8

  Lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating Molly’s room. It took her back to her childhood when, petrified of the monsoon storms that would arrive without warning, she would hide under the bed clutching her teddy bear to her thumping chest as rain hammered deafeningly on the old tin roof. Her mum or dad would come running in to comfort her, telling her that the thunder was just God moving his furniture about and the rain was him watering his gardens. She smiled at this memory of her parents as she rolled on her side and buried her head into her pillow.

  Molly slept fitfully, tossing and turning for hours until she finally fell deeply into the land of dreams, a land of dreams that was filled with the faces of two very different men, one she hardly knew and one she felt like she had known for a lifetime. At about five in the morning she woke needing desperately to go to the toilet and, once she had, she couldn’t go back to sleep. Cheryl’s words were still rolling around in her mind, teasing her, tempting her, confusing her. She huffed loudly, pushing herself out of bed, and decided she might as well get up and make herself a cup of extra-strong black coffee. Mark was meeting her at eight so she had a few hours to get her nerves under control.

  Molly flopped down on the comfortable old lounge chair on the front verandah, watching the sun come up. Skip came to sit beside her and she tenderly rubbed his head, chatting away to him as if he was a person. He was the best listener she had ever met. She watched as one of the chooks went scooting across the front lawn in an attempt to make a break for it while there were no dogs to contend with. With a start Molly recalled she had forgotten to shut the chook-pen door last night, and she prayed that nothing had gotten in the pen for a midnight feast. It was common for dingoes to come sniffing around if they knew there was live food on offer.

  She grumbled as she got up from the chair – knowing she should check the chooks out before she made breakfast – telling Skip to stay where he was, or else. She didn’t feel like reprimanding him this early in the morning if he were to chase the chooks. Molly got to the bottom of the steps and pulled on her boots. What a sight I must look, with frazzled bed-hair, my polka-dot PJs and a pair of boots, she thought, having a chuckle at her own expense.

  Mack and Sasha yapped excitedly as she walked past the kennels, obviously eager to get out of the enclosure and get up to some type of mischief for the day.

  ‘I’ll let you guys out in a minute!’ she called back to them. Sasha’s tail was wagging out of control, slapping Mack in the face as he ran around beside her. Molly couldn’t help but smile. Puppies were so adorable.

  ‘Well, well, don’t you look stunning this morning, Miss Molly Jones?’

  Molly just about jumped out of her skin as she spun around, spotting Heath heading in her direction, a chook in his hands. A weird sensation washed through her body, sending her heart racing. She fought hard to
ignore it.

  ‘Thanks, Heath,’ Molly said, striking a pose in her PJs as if she was a contestant on Australia’s Next Top Model. ‘This is the new work wear for the farm. Like it?’

  ‘I don’t think it would suit me, Molly, but you wear it fantastically,’ Heath replied huskily, amusement written all over his face as he playfully eyed her up and down.

  Molly blushed under his mischievous gaze. ‘I don’t know about that. I can just picture Kenny wearing it, though!’ she replied, laughing, relieved the tension from two days before had eased.

  Heath shook his head and smiled. ‘Kenny would wear anything, or nothing.’ He handed Molly the hen, which was flapping like crazy. ‘I just saved this one from being picked up by a wedge-tailed eagle. I was sitting on the front patio having my morning cuppa and suddenly this chook went tearing by at warp speed, clucking like a lunatic. I thought maybe Skip was chasing it so I went to tell him off, and instead I found an eagle coming in for the swoop. I hit the deck just as it came in with its claws extended for the kill. It almost picked me up instead. Talk about almost giving a bloke a heart attack!’

  Molly burst out laughing. ‘Oh no, that’s terrible! I’ve heard that eagles take chickens, but I’ve never seen it with my own eyes. Thanks for being the hero and saving my mate here, anyway,’ she said, taking the chicken from his hands.

  Heath smirked. ‘No worries, Molly. You owe me one, though, after having to make a fool of myself in front of the blokes.’

  ‘Sure. You let me know what I can do to make it up to you,’ Molly said jovially, unable to meet his deep-blue eyes. They were making her feel giddy.

  Heath cleared his throat, images of Molly making it up to him in unspeakable ways, causing him to crave her even more. ‘Um, well, there is one thing … Me and the boys are planning a pig hunt tonight. The bloody things have been ripping into the mango crop and your grandfather wants us to cull a few. Not that we mind – you know how much we love pig hunting. And it would be a great help if you could come along to lend your expertise.’

  Molly’s face lit up. ‘Of course I’ll come along with you! What time should I be ready?’

  ‘Meet us at the cottage around ten tonight. Is that okay for you?’

  ‘Not a problem. Now, I better get this chook back in the pen before it has a heart attack. The poor bugger’s losing feathers like they’re going out of fashion.’

  ‘See you tonight then. Have a great day,’ Heath replied, grinning at Molly in her PJs as she wrestled with the chook and the pen door. God, she was beautiful. Even first thing in the morning she had the ability to take his breath away. What he would give to wake up beside her every day. It would be a dream come true.

  Rose had decided to help Elizabeth bake cookies for the morning and Molly was silently relieved. Her daughter would be busy when Mark arrived. Molly wasn’t ready to see Mark and Rose together, not yet.

  Rose looked adorable in the little floral apron that Jade had bought her for Christmas. Molly made a mental note to call Jade later. She wanted all the goss on her first date with Mel and, knowing Jade, it would be a thrilling tale indeed.

  Molly felt her belly turn over with nerves when she heard Skip barking out the front, letting her know there was somebody coming down the driveway. She ran into the bathroom and quickly rinsed her mouth out with some mouthwash, jumping up and down on the spot as it exploded in her mouth, making her eyes water. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, hoping she could conceal the cyclonic emotions she was feeling deep inside, her emerald-green eyes prominent against her olive skin and jet-black hair. She practised her best smile, pleased with her poker face, before heading out onto the front verandah just as Mark was pulling in. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat as she walked towards him. ‘Hey, Mark!’

  ‘Hi. How are you on this fine morning, Molly?’ he answered, flashing a sexy smile as he got out of his Toyota, his white teeth in perfect contrast to the dark honey colour of his skin. He quickly ran a hand through his unruly brown hair, his long fringe flopping back down into his chocolate-brown eyes by the time he stretched out his long legs.

  Molly felt her face flush as she fiddled with the brim of her hat. ‘I’m great, thanks. Looking forward to meeting this wonderful mare of yours.’ She was eager to stick to the task at hand, staying in her business frame of mind. It was a comfortable place for her out in the round yard and she couldn’t wait to get the small talk over and done with so she could get down to work. It meant she didn’t have to focus her attention on Mark.

  ‘You just point out where you’d like me to park, and I’ll unload her from the horse float,’ Mark said.

  ‘Yep, no worries. Just park over there under the wattle tree, but I’d prefer it if I got her off the float, mate. All part of the way I work, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Alrighty then. I’m warning you, though. She’s a livewire,’ he said casually as he turned on his heel and hopped back into the driver’s seat.

  Molly watched on as Mark parked up in the shade, her emotions calming slightly at the thought of the task at hand. As soon as he had come to a stop she walked towards the back of the horse float. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘I’ve called her JJ, after Janis Joplin. She’s a bit of a rebel, just like Janis was.’

  Molly slowly opened the back of the float, talking softly to JJ and avoiding making any loud noises or sudden movements. First impressions meant a lot with a horse, and Molly wanted to make a good one. ‘Hey, beautiful girl. You ready for some work?’

  JJ whinnied, shuffling nervously, her hoofs tapping on the floor like a tap dancer as she moved around the confined space. Molly eased her way into the float, talking soothingly the whole time. She carefully undid the lead rope from inside the float and gently backed JJ out. The horse took her time, assessing if there were any dangers lurking outside the float. Molly let JJ do what she needed, at the same time giving the horse gentle commands to let her know that even though Molly wanted to make friends, she was also the boss.

  Finally JJ emerged from the float, and Molly could feel the tension oozing out of her as she led her towards the round yard. She was a beautiful thoroughbred, her coat the same jet-black colour as Molly’s hair with a striking star that sat perfectly on her forehead as if painted there. Molly stopped and let the horse sniff the gate to allow her to get used to the surroundings, holding the lead rope with one hand while she ran the other hand over the raw timber, assuring JJ it was safe to go in. The mare, anxious, backed up a few steps and Molly allowed her the space, still in charge but respecting the horse’s needs. JJ’s ears were flat on her head, not a good sign, and Molly prepared herself for what might be a bit of a temper tantrum. JJ neighed loudly before rearing up in the air, aggressively pronouncing her dislike of the situation. Molly stood her ground, keeping enough space between her and JJ for safety but still holding the lead rope firmly in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mark racing up to them and immediately held up her hand, signalling him to stop without uttering a word. Mark stopped dead in his tracks, obeying Molly’s wishes, as JJ’s front legs came back down to the ground with a massive thump, kicking up the dust with her feet. Molly used all her strength to keep hold of JJ’s lead rope as she demanded attention from the horse with her firm, direct words. The horse went to kick but Molly saw it coming and jumped out of the way.

  Molly kept up a stream of soothing talk and JJ remained still, her ears flicking forward as she began to relax and listen. After a few more minutes Molly calmly opened the gate and led JJ into the round yard without any problem.

  Molly could feel Mark watching her but she ignored the urge to look over at him, instead focusing all her attention on the horse. She put the mare through her paces, lunging her on a long rope, continually changing the direction to keep JJ listening. After half an hour or so of hard ground work Molly felt it was time to put her favourite stock saddle on the mare. Mark had helpfully placed the saddle over the timber rails for her so she was good to go
.

  Molly tied JJ to the hitching rail, slowly rubbing the saddle blanket over her coat to let her get used the feel and the scent of it, and then positioning it carefully on her back. Very slowly, Molly picked up the saddle, allowing the mare to smell it thoroughly before putting in on. With added care and soothing words Molly buckled up the girth, being extra careful not to pinch JJ. She preferred to use a rope halter instead of a bridle, believing that a metal bit was too harsh on a young horse. There were no quick-fix solutions to changing horse behaviour so Molly was considerate, taking her time with all her movements, because establishing mutual trust between her and JJ was critical right now.

  Molly heard the soft strum of a guitar and her attention was briefly drawn to Mark. He was sitting on the grass, leaning back against the massive trunk of a tall gum tree, guitar in his lap, intently jotting down something in a notebook with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Skip sat beside him, watching like an eager spectator. It was a nice picture, and Molly couldn’t help wondering if Mark was writing a song. It sure looked like he was. What was it about?

  She dragged her gaze back, pulling herself up into the saddle, keeping a firm grip on the reins so she could control the horse from where she sat. All her senses were alert, taking in everything JJ was telling her with her body language. She felt the horse tense up like a spring beneath her and she prepared herself for JJ’s imminent buck. The mare jerked up her hindquarters, but Molly braced and planted her bum firmly in the saddle, her back feeling the brunt of the powerful jarring of every buck. At one stage, JJ had all four feet off the ground.

  After a few minutes of thrashing about the mare evidently decided it would be less strenuous to allow the person in the saddle to stay on her back. JJ stood, breathing deeply, sweat making her coat shine in the sunlight like it was black silk. With gentle leg pressure Molly asked the mare to walk on. JJ took a cautious step forward. Molly leant over and gave the mare a tender rub on the neck, telling her what a good girl she was for moving forward without bucking. Molly could feel her shirt sticking to her back with sweat. Retraining a horse was so physically demanding. She had had to use every muscle in her body to stay in control. She knew she would feel it tonight, but she was happy with the progress she had made so far. She could tell from JJ’s responses that she’d been schooled before. JJ just needed a bit of discipline after being turned out for so long. Molly continued to direct JJ around the yard, sending her left and right and eventually getting her to back up and drop her head. After another hour in the saddle, JJ was in need of a rest and some water and so was Molly. She was parched, her mouth drier than the Simpson Desert. It had been a good few hours’ work.