The Homestead Girls

by Fiona McArthur

  She changed the subject because she didn’t like the squirming in her belly when she thought about it. ‘I never met my father. He’s dead. It’s always been me and Mum, except for when Mum’s aunt was alive, but I was young when she died and don’t remember her much.’

  ‘Your mother must have been very busy balancing a medical career and a young child.’

  Her mother was always busy, Mia thought, and stifled the disloyal words. She knew her mother tried to be there for her but she just didn’t understand Mia at all. ‘I spent a lot of time in child care. Then after-school care. Later on we had a lady come in three times a week, when Mum worked, to clean the flat and cook a meal for dinner until Mum came home.’

  Lorna smiled. ‘My husband was a doctor. He had me to do that. And I was the one who helped my son with all his maths exams. He’s an engineer, you know. Your mother’s been so busy she really needed a wife.’

  Mia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re funny.’

  Lorna ignored that and peered at the web page. ‘Oh my. How many people will see me like that?’

  Mia grinned. ‘Hopefully millions. When we launch it I’ll put a link on Facebook and Pinterest and tweet it. So all my friends from my old school will “Like” it. Then their friends will see it and then their friends. It has to be fun and make people want to show others.’

  Lorna looked doubtful. ‘But will they donate to the cause or will they just laugh and go and look at something else?’

  ‘We need a prize. For donating. Or an online auction. Like a signed picture of a superstar. Do you know any superstars?’ she asked.

  ‘No, dear. No young ones, anyway.’

  Mia was on a roll. ‘Maybe we could auction off signed pictures of the staff at the Flying Doctor Base. That boss of Mum and Daphne’s looks pretty good, if you like old men.’

  Lorna’s eyes twinkled. ‘I promise I won’t tell Morgan Fraser he looks old.’

  Billie cornered Morgan before he knew what she was about. ‘Lorna wants me to take a photograph for you to sign so she can auction it off on their new website to raise money for the Mica Ridge Base.’

  ‘A photograph of what?’

  ‘You, the boss. Apparently, you are sufficiently attractive to invite donations to our new website.’

  He frowned darkly. ‘I cannot believe Lorna managed permission from the powers that be for that site. Your daughter’s fault.’

  Billie shrugged. She wasn’t all that comfortable herself, but Lorna and Mia were so enthusiastic she couldn’t face a fight.

  ‘It amuses them and maybe it will do more than we expect. You’ll be happy if you end up with a wad of money to buy new equipment with, won’t you?’

  He laughed. ‘True. So I guess I’d better sign the dreaded picture.’

  ‘Not so fast. I haven’t taken it yet. I’m told we have to go outside for you to lean nonchalantly against one of the aircraft, looking sexy. I have to take it with my phone and email it to my daughter.’

  He rolled his eyes and shuddered. ‘You think this is hilarious.’ He pointed his finger at her face, which she was struggling to keep straight.

  ‘I think it’s a scream.’

  Two minutes later they were outside in the hot sun and Morgan was standing uncomfortably beside the Mica Ridge Base insignia on the aircraft fuselage. Billie couldn’t believe how amusing it was to see the super assured Morgan looking so uncomfortable. ‘Come on, big boy. Strut your stuff.’

  ‘Be careful.’

  Billie giggled. A sound she was not known for. Seriously, this was the funniest thing she’d done in a while. She took her time. ‘Smile.’

  ‘Get it over with,’ Morgan said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Now put your hand on the aircraft.’

  ‘What? And burn myself? The metal’s a hundred degrees.’

  Fair enough. ‘You could pretend to. Would still look like it.’ As she looked at the photograph she saw a genuine smile crease Morgan’s face. ‘That’s better. You’re loosening up.’

  ‘Pop over there next to him, Billie.’ The voice behind her made her jump and she spun around to see Daphne holding her own camera. ‘Come on. A lovely shot with the two of you.’

  ‘They don’t want me.’

  ‘Just for fun. Not for the site.’

  ‘And I’m melting here so get a move on,’ said Morgan, the voice of authority.

  Billie moved reluctantly to stand beside Morgan.

  ‘Closer,’ Daphne directed, not moving her head from behind the camera.

  Billie leaned a fraction closer and now not all the heat was coming off the plane. Some of it was building in the tiny space between them and she could feel her face start to burn.

  Later that day, when Daphne sent through the photo of her and Morgan, Billie couldn’t help the little glow of satisfaction to see herself standing beside her boss. They both looked pretty darn good.

  Three days later Billie felt Lorna’s gaze drift over her at breakfast and she wasn’t sure she liked her calculating expression. ‘I noticed you got home late last night.’ There was a definite sparkle to the statement.

  Billie shook her head. ‘I worked late, thank you very much. Doing Flying Doctor stuff.’

  Lorna sat back. ‘Oh. I hope everyone is all right.’

  ‘Everyone’s okay in the end. They’ll all feel better this morning.’

  ‘Here I was thinking you were finally spending time with a bit of male company.’

  Billie tried hard not to let her face show how close to home that remark had fallen. She’d been thinking the same thing herself lately. Had actually woken this morning with some very vivid dreams. That was a first. She didn’t even want to think about hot thoughts like that. Certainly not in front of Lorna. Instead she said, ‘And here’s me thinking you were a nice, genteel lady.’

  Lorna snorted again. ‘Well look at you.’ Lorna nodded her head. ‘Young, beautiful, and a doctor. How come some man hasn’t snaffled you up?’

  She lifted her chin. ‘Plenty have tried.’ They grinned at each other. ‘But seriously, I’m waiting until Mia’s finished school.’

  Lorna shook her head. ‘What sort of crack-brained idea is that? Life is far too short for that nonsense.’ There was a bite to the last word. It seemed Lorna wasn’t having a bar of that excuse.

  Billie sighed and decided maybe she was beginning to agree with Lorna. Maybe it was crack-brained to wait any longer to live life to the full. But she said the right thing. ‘My first responsibility is to my daughter. We don’t want to end up with a psycho for a step-dad.’ She heard the flatness in that statement and chewed her lip. It was too much to hope Lorna wouldn’t notice.

  ‘That sounds like prior experience.’ Lorna was peering at her through her new snazzy red glasses, which they’d encouraged her to buy when they’d all gone shopping with Daphne yesterday. She looked a little like Dame Edna. ‘Was Mia’s father a bad man?’

  ‘He started off nicely enough. I was still fragile from the loss of my parents and he said he was from a small town, too. He was flattering and funny and seemed larger than life. Big drinker. Big cars. Big laugh. My aunt hated him.’

  ‘Your aunt probably had more life experience to draw from.’

  ‘Well I was swept along by him until it started to go sour. He wasn’t nice—especially at the end. He threatened me when I said I was leaving him.’ She’d never told anyone that in seventeen years. And before then she’d only told her student advisory mentor about the threats when she’d changed universities to get away from him. And she had escaped. Then found out she was pregnant. And maybe it had made her too wary of men ever since.

  ‘A bad man.’ Lorna repeated and for a moment there she thought Lorna was actually going to spit the way her mouth pursed. ‘Does Mia know that?’

  ‘No.’ Billie shrugged away the dilemma that had haunted her all these years. ‘How could I tell my daughter her father was a creep?’ She lowered her voice. ‘I said he was dead.’

  Lorna raised her
brows. ‘And you’re not worried he’ll turn up one day? And bite you on the bottom?’

  Bite her on the bottom. She almost smiled at that. He probably would. But it was a strange relief to actually talk about it after all this time with someone she trusted. Billie wasn’t sure how she’d come to trust Daphne and Lorna as much as she did, but there was no doubting that she had complete faith in both of them.

  ‘Yep. Guess I’ve worried about it for a while now. One day he’ll turn up. She’ll find out. And I’ll wear it.’

  Lorna’s eyes softened. ‘You could just tell her. Now.’

  Billie could see that Lorna wasn’t blaming her. She believed in loyalty and was genuinely worried about her. ‘That must take a toll, dear. On your own for so long. You need a man.’ Lorna nodded decisively. ‘A great big muscly one.’

  Billie laughed. ‘I’m not that keen on snuggling up to a world champion wrestler, but a normal guy would be nice.’

  Not to solve her problems, she assured herself. But there was a voice inside that whispered that she was getting sick of being responsible for everything. That was weak. ‘I’d like a man friend.’ Lover would be good too, but she didn’t say it. She qualified, ‘I’d like one but I don’t need one.’

  Lorna smiled as well. ‘You young things. So feisty. But there are good men out there. Some closer than you think.’

  Billie shrugged, ignoring the obvious answer. ‘Maybe soon I’ll have time to look. Mia will be finished school in a year.’

  ‘Another year!’ Lorna squeaked. And a shadow seemed to pass over the older lady’s face. ‘Wasting time.’ Then Lorna outed the great big muscly elephant in the room. ‘So you’re not looking at our Dr Morgan?’

  No. She wasn’t looking at Morgan. Or not much.

  There had been a couple of quite companionable coffees together lately after the ‘photo shoot’ when the rest of the staff had gone out on flights. Some laughs. But there was nothing between her and Morgan. ‘No matchmaking, Lorna.’

  ‘Only if I think there’s a need.’ She sat back and crossed her arms as if to signify her mind wasn’t being swayed on that topic.

  ‘Soretta looks happy. This has been a good move for us all, I think,’ Billie said, trying to change the subject.

  Lorna sighed, apparently brought back to the transience of her stay. ‘I’m certainly having fun on my holiday.’

  The roar of a mangled gear change on the driveway made them both look in its direction.

  Mia, with her learner’s plate firmly attached to the front of the farm utility, ground up the hill. It had come to Billie’s attention that Mia listened to Soretta more than she listened to her own mother, and when help had been offered with the driving lessons Billie had jumped at the chance.

  The amusing part was that when Soretta took her, Mia had to drive the diesel farm vehicle because as far as Soretta was concerned anyone could drive an automatic car. The truck pulled up beside the house, Soretta got out, and Mia jerked away into the shed.

  Soretta was scowling as she climbed the stairs. ‘She nearly dropped the gearbox on the driveway. She’ll be beating herself up all day.’

  Billie schooled her face into a sympathetic look. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘She hadn’t missed a beat all morning and I think she gets nervous when she knows you’re both looking.’

  ‘I really appreciate you taking her,’ Billie said.

  ‘It’s fine. Grandad taught me and it wasn’t so long ago that I don’t remember how hard it is to drive the car, keep an eye on the road and watch for roos all at once.’

  Billie laughed. In her experience it was the other cars you had to watch out for. ‘Have you driven in Sydney or Adelaide?’

  ‘Nope. Never want to. Gives me claustrophobia with all those people. I did some competitive hockey before I left boarding school, so I’ve been to most of the capital cities with the team.’

  Billie was impressed. ‘Must have been some team.’

  ‘Country schoolgirls.’

  Billie clapped. ‘You’re my hero. I always wanted to be good at hockey.’

  Soretta cocked an eyebrow. ‘Says the doctor who still managed to raise a daughter single-handedly.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with a bit of mutual appreciation,’ Lorna agreed.

  They both turned to Lorna and Soretta said, ‘You’re no slouch. Riding ten kilometres on a horse to deliver a baby.’

  Soretta grinned at Lorna and Billie felt her chest tighten with emotion at the genuine warmth for this elderly lady. They were so blessed with the growing sense of family, which had only increased since Lorna’s arrival. It was almost too good for something that couldn’t last forever.

  ELEVEN

  A week later, Billie thought again about Lorna’s observations, especially on a day when Morgan had been behaving in a particularly unusual manner. It had all started when she’d mentioned that Soretta had taken Mia out of school a day early to drive the long distance to a riding gymkhana and was staying away for two nights. And she’d added that Lorna was having tea with her son in town.

  She’d watched him slap Rex on the back when he’d offered to drive Daphne out to Barbara Tomkins’s station to mind Gwyn while Barbara and her husband had rushed off to visit a terminal relative. He’d been joking with everyone and complimenting them on their work, so much so she’d felt like asking where the real Morgan was and what had he done with him.

  Then at the end of the day he’d walked companionably out with her to her car and stopped beside her as she prepared to put the keys in the lock.

  ‘Would you like to come to my place for dinner? You said you’d be alone at the station tonight.’

  No planning. On her side anyway. Now this offer. That persistent ember of attraction she’d had simmering underneath her professional exterior flickered into life again, no doubt buttered up by the congenial man today. But he was her boss. One didn’t socialise with the boss. Not a good idea.

  ‘Um, thank you. That’s kind of you but I’ll be fine.’

  Morgan laughed. ‘I wasn’t being kind.’

  She turned to look at him and he was waiting patiently. Very patiently, for him, and she could feel the difference in the air between them. Suddenly she was back to being Alice in Wonderland and Morgan looking big and sexy. Right there on the footpath beside her.

  ‘I was asking you to dinner. But you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.’ He shrugged a little self-consciously and he had her. Right then. Morgan self-conscious? ‘I’ve been angling towards it all day.’

  Was that why he’d been strange? The idea made her want to fan her face. ‘Oh. Um. Always happy for someone else to cook. Sure, thank you.’

  He laughed again and now that she really looked at him he did seem suddenly very relaxed and happy. ‘Wow. I’m flattered you’ll at least eat my food.’

  She played back what she’d said and laughed herself. ‘Don’t want you to get a big head.’

  ‘Not much hope of that with you around,’ he said cryptically.

  Because he lived within five minutes of work, she didn’t have much time to think before Morgan was holding his front door open for her. Billie wasn’t quite sure how she’d arrived at this moment.

  His home, the top floor of an office building, with views to the craggy Silver Ridge above them, was right in front of her and there was nothing else she could do but go in. After work. Alone with Morgan. So she went in, and he followed her, closing the door behind them.

  His voice startled her out of her tumbling thoughts. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  She jumped. ‘I have to drive home later.’

  ‘Then a soft drink?’ He crossed the room, opened a small bar fridge and removed a can of lemon squash without asking her more. He then popped the lid and poured it into a glass. ‘Here.’

  She took the glass and shivered as his fingers brushed over hers. Felt the heat in her cheeks and looked away in embarrassment. Damn. She must be coming down with a virus. Man flu.

  ‘I wo
n’t be long.’ His drawl promised more in her ears than he probably intended as he walked away. In the last few weeks she’d stopped hearing the undercurrents, the subtle sexiness, but this afternoon it was as if every word was draped in he-man suggestiveness. Was he playing a game or was she being fanciful?

  She took a cooling sip of her drink, casting her eye over the room. Probably the latter. Morgan wasn’t the type to play games. She hoped. She’d been burned once and it was a pretty big turn­around for her that she was here to begin with.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d imagined his house would be like, maybe sparse and barren, but it wasn’t. There were plenty of points of interest—gumtrees in oils on the walls, two divine watercolours of native birds, and an old colonial writing desk with a silver-framed photograph on it. She wandered over for a closer look. A dark-eyed woman stared back at her.

  ‘Come through to the kitchen.’ She heard him say. ‘It’s what I like to do.’

  Talk to people in the kitchen? Her brain started working again. ‘Cook?’ A man who actually liked to cook? He just got better and better.

  ‘Yep.’

  She’d have thought he’d be a take-away and paper plates kind of guy. Or maybe that was because that had always been her fantasy. Funny how the idea of Morgan and fantasy sat so well together. She allowed him to usher her in front and direct her onto the stool he pulled out for her at the island bench.

  The kitchen was really impressive. If you liked kitchens. She was happier to be the observer in this situation. ‘I see you take your workspace seriously.’

  His brows climbed. ‘This is the first time you noticed?’

  She thought of the organised space on his desk at the base and shook her head. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be surprised considering what you’re like at work.’

  He nodded, giving her a lazy smile that sent a wave of heat from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, then he began to melt the butter, tossing in some shallots.

  ‘Where did you learn to cook?’

  He shrugged. ‘My mother was a chef. My father was a lawyer who worked the hours my mother didn’t. She encouraged me to try experimental recipes out on him when she couldn’t be home. Not all of them were successes and that amused her. But it was something I actually enjoyed so I was glad for the opportunity.’