by Janine Grey
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Mick.’
‘Look, love, he’s got his explosives licence. He’s as safe as he plays it. And isn’t he a geologist? If anyone knows rock it should be him.’
‘Is he still here in town?’
‘Reckon so. Said he found some good opal and came into town to offload it. I think he had it in mind to come and see you later. He asked after you.’
‘You ask after your spinster aunt,’ Eliza said acidly.
‘The bloke’s gone on you, anyone can tell.’
‘I can’t,’ she muttered.
‘What can I say?’ Mick stood. ‘Rock and a hard place, and all that. He cares about you but the opal won’t let him go easy.’
‘It’s not an either-or. If he wants to mine for opal, that’s fine with me.’ She followed Mick to the door, where he paused, a thoughtful look on his face.
‘You know about Logan McLeod, right? His old man?’ he asked. ‘I was still up Muckaty way back then but a few people around here remember Fin’s dad from the eighties. He bought the mine with dreams in his head and stars in his eyes. He thought he’d find the opal all the old-timers used to rattle on about. But it all went south and he upped and went west. Left his wife – and the sprog only a few months old.’
Eliza wasn’t in the mood to be forgiving. ‘That was thirty years ago. What does that have to do with Fin and me?’
‘Something like that is going to have an impact, I reckon. Maybe he’s thinking, deep down, he might be like his father. Worried he might fuck it all up – excuse my French.’
Eliza just stared at him.
‘I know. It’s the stupidest thing you ever heard. But blokes are basically stupid, mark my words. Stupid mongrel dogs, just like my missus says.’
‘Am I ever going to meet her?’
‘Oh, yeah. She’ll be back before Chrissie, I reckon. But don’t tell her about our fling.’
‘I’ll tell her about your vivid imagination.’ Eliza managed a laugh. ‘Well, as Fin’s evidently too chicken to face me, I suppose I’d better just go and sort out my stupid mongrel dog.’
In truth, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Even though Fin was nothing like her father, perhaps this was how her mother had felt during her marriage to her dad, trying to navigate a relationship with a man who was chalk to her cheese – the dreamer and the organiser.
She and Fin weren’t polar opposites in quite the same way, but there was no denying she was rational and he was just plain difficult.
Mick grinned. ‘You do that. Want to walk up with me?’
‘You go on ahead.’ Eliza said, ‘I think I’ll just get my armour on first.’
*
Jerry Bragg had a lot of time to think and he’d been putting it to good use, day after day sitting beside a woman who rarely spoke.
He was too old to physically drag Fin back to be with his mum. But he had to do something. He hadn’t spent years talking Mairi into divorcing Logan and taking legal action to gain control of the mine so Fin could follow in his father’s footsteps.
Legal action. That was something to ponder. Last year, when the extent of Mairi’s decline became clear, she had given Fin the right to make decisions on her behalf. There was a name for it. Power of attorney, that was it.
In his opinion, she’d chosen the wrong person to give it to. In fact, a court might be interested in hearing what kind of a neglectful son Fin McLeod really was. Jerry could make a case for it: the nurses here loved him, they’d back up his story. Not a story, he told himself. The truth.
He smiled at Mairi, pretty today in a pale-green shirt with detailing around the neckline and cuffs. She’d always liked clothes and Jerry made sure she always had something nice to wear.
‘Mairi, love. I’ve been thinking. We’ve given the boy long enough to do the right thing. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about the mine and we have to put a stop to it.’
Money was tight. All Jerry had was his pension and a bit put by for a rainy day. His nest egg wasn’t much to fight a legal case with, but Fin probably had even less. He hadn’t had a proper job for close to a year, and he would have expenses – equipment, licenses and the rest. Of course, there was the rest of Mairi’s money from the house, but no judge would allow that to be swallowed by legal costs.
‘I reckon we can do it, Mairi.’ He patted her hand, felt the tiny tremor. ‘Now, don’t you worry, old thing. You just leave it all to me.’
He kissed her cheek and left, his jaunty steps taking him through reception where he called goodbye to the friendly nurse and out the front doors.
*
Fin was vaguely aware of the melee at the pub door but, sitting at the bar, he was too deep in thought to pay it much attention. Figuring the task ahead required more than beer, he’d opted for Scotch, and the one he’d chosen was as mellow as his meagre budget allowed.
It was the wolf-whistle that finally made him turn around just as Eliza sauntered – there was no other way to describe it – into the pub. She carved a path through the crowd, drinkers stepping back in awe with drinks held forgotten halfway to their mouths. He might have laughed at them if her eyes, smoky above a scarlet mouth, hadn’t been trained on him. Her dress – black and just short of indecent – appeared to have been sprayed on, and the sky-high red heels made her legs appear endless.
‘Bloody hell,’ the guy next to him at the bar said and hustled away, abandoning Fin to his fate as she stopped within centimetres of him.
‘Fin,’ she said, her head cocked to one side. The noise in the pub dropped almost to silence as the evening crowd waited, craned forwards and breathless, to see who would make the next move.
Man up, Fin told himself. He put down his glass in case his hand started shaking and gave her a leisurely appraisal. ‘Eliza. Are you looking for a nightclub?’
‘What I’m looking for, Fin, is a man who knows what he wants.’
Behind her, Fin saw a man put up his hand only to drop it as his girlfriend stuck him in the ribs with her elbow.
‘And who isn’t too terrified to go after it,’ she continued.
Fin had to admire her bravado but terrified was a bit strong. Nevertheless, she was magnificent in her determination. From the scene that night in the Sydney restaurant, he’d figured she wasn’t the type to enjoy public attention – and he’d never seen her fuss with her face more than a touch of lip gloss. No need to gild the lily. But tonight, she’d pulled out all the stops to go after what she wanted: him. And she had every man in the place drooling.
‘Do you really want an audience for this?’ he murmured.
Her hands went to her hips; hips that in that skin-skimming dress could have sunk a thousand ships. He noticed her short, well-manicured nails were the same lipstick red as her mouth and shoes. He had a sudden powerful urge to feel them biting into his shoulders as he took her.
‘I want an answer,’ she insisted.
He smiled. ‘All right.’ Then he scooped her up in his arms, strode through the gawping crowd and exited the pub to scattered applause and excited whispers.
CHAPTER 13
‘Okay, you’ve made your point,’ Eliza managed to stutter when they were halfway down the street. ‘You can put me down.’
‘Where do you stash your house key on a dress like this?’ he asked.
‘You don’t,’ she said. ‘It’s under a pot plant on the verandah.’
He didn’t let her go until they reached her front porch. Then he let her legs slide down until her feet were on the ground and she was plastered against him, illuminated by the porch light. ‘So,’ she said. ‘Thank you for bringing me to my door.’
‘I was on my way to see you.’
As he sported a crisp blue shirt, clean jeans and a freshly shaven jaw, she’d give him that. He wouldn’t have bothered to clean up just to sell some opal and drink at the pub.
‘Getting some Dutch courage first?’ she asked.
‘Something like that. I missed you.’<
br />
‘You have an interesting way of showing it.’
‘Am I in trouble?’
Slipping out from his embrace, Eliza decided to take pity on him. ‘Fortunately, I didn’t take you too seriously. I suspected you just needed time to posture and pout. Pretend you’re a free man.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you deliberately trying to push my buttons, Miss Mayberry?’
‘I haven’t touched your buttons,’ she murmured, holding her palms up. ‘Your buttons are safe tonight.’
‘And after tonight?’
It would have been too easy just to return to his arms but instead Eliza stepped back.
‘We should take it slow, Fin. I think because we fit together in bed immediately, we thought it would be the same everywhere else but it’s not. We need to work on non-sex stuff a bit more.’
Even as she said it, Eliza was hoping he’d argue but, though he looked disappointed, he accepted her suggestion calmly.
‘Fair enough. I’ll see if Chris has room at the pub.’ He tugged gently on a lock of her hair – his signature move. ‘Sleep tight.’
‘If you’re staying in Helton, come around for breakfast tomorrow around nine.’
He nodded, gave her a raking look from those charcoal eyes that almost made her change her mind, and disappeared into the dark.
*
Fin surprised her the following morning with rolls still warm from Maggie’s bakery, and a long drugging kiss that packed more power than the coffee she had just brewed.
‘Okay,’ she gasped when they broke apart and she could finally speak. She held up the crumpled paper bag. ‘We squashed breakfast. But it was worth it.’
‘Yeah.’ He lounged easily against the doorframe, garbed in worn jeans and a tee-shirt. ‘So . . .’
‘Come in. I’ll make something to go with these.’
As Eliza scrambled eggs and grilled bacon, he watched her with an intensity that put her on edge. Other people didn’t usually make her nervous, but other people weren’t Fin McLeod. And other people didn’t kiss her senseless and leave her aching the way he did. Maybe she should just drag him into the bedroom: that would deal with her nerves.
No. No! Having sex didn’t solve problems, it just camouflaged them briefly – which only led to more.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him wander to the kitchen door, coffee mug in hand.
‘Looking good out there.’ He walked out onto the verandah. ‘You planted some stuff.’
‘Yes, my plants arrived. There’s lavender and rosemary, and torch lilies. They’re all good in dry conditions, but I’ll see how they go over the summer.’
‘So you are staying on.’
Eliza turned off the griller and put the bacon on a paper towel. Had he thought she’d change her mind? ‘I’ve extended the lease until the end of the year. I said I would.’
He didn’t comment, except to say, ‘Gets hot out here.’
‘I’m tougher than I look,’ she told him. She couldn’t get any sense of where the conversation was headed.
‘Don’t you miss Sydney?’
‘Sure, sometimes. I miss my friend Charlotte – the one with the banshee of a child. And I miss the theatres, restaurants. Helton’s idea of culture begins and ends with trivia night at the pub. But I’ll take a long weekend there from time to time. Sydney’s not so far away. I always thought I belonged there but now I’m not so sure. My mum’s parents had a farm. I loved spending time there when I was small.’
He turned to her. ‘I guess if it doesn’t work out here, you could pack up easily enough.’
Eliza laughed. ‘I’m not planning on that – especially since I just rented my flat and sold my car. From what the agent said, the young couple who’ve moved in have fallen in love with it. I doubt they’ll want to move on anytime soon.’
His brow furrowed and the smile fell from Eliza’s face. She didn’t think he didn’t want her to stay, but she was struggling to work out what was on his mind.
‘Talk to me, Fin.’
He looked surprised. ‘We are talking.’
‘I’m talking. You’re scowling.’
‘This isn’t a scowl, it’s . . .’ He blew out a breath. ‘I still have trouble seeing you in this life – in my life!’ He gave a sharp bark of laughter. ‘Maybe I can’t believe my luck. Are you sure you’d be happy?’
‘Fin, we’re not that unalike, you and I. You’re determined to do what you set out to do – to find your opal – regardless of what anyone else thinks is possible or wise or even sane. I feel the same about my life. Before this, not much was demanded of me and I was happy to just let things drift. But since I came here, I’ve felt alive in a way I didn’t before. I can’t bring my parents back but I can build something that would make them proud – make me proud.’
She split the eggs and bacon, loading his plate with more than hers, and got butter for the rolls.
‘Is it important to make them proud?’ he asked in a low voice.
Eliza gave the question some thought. ‘Yes, but not as important as it is for me to feel as though I have a purpose,’ she told him. ‘I want to achieve something, do something useful. Families interest me, the way they lose each other and find each other. I want to help bring them together, even after death, through KinSearchers. I like investigating and putting the pieces of the jigsaw together. It’s fascinating.’
They sat down and Eliza topped up their coffee mugs. ‘When I was growing up, I was Daddy’s girl. My mother was usually working. Now I wish I’d spent more time with her; I wish she’d insisted on it. Everyone I’ve spoken to since Dad’s death has said what an amazing woman she was. I didn’t appreciate it at the time.’
‘She’d be happy you’ve discovered a passion for the family business,’ Fin said.
Eliza nodded. ‘She would. And . . .’
‘What?’ he asked when she stumbled.
She took a breath. ‘She’d be pleased I didn’t take the easy road in my personal life by marrying George.’
‘Good old George.’
‘He was too nice for me. A lap dog.’
Fin swallowed a mouthful of eggs and laughed. ‘What kind of dog am I?’
‘According to Mick, a stupid mongrel dog.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘He’s probably changed his mind after your performance last night. You’re probably the idol of every man in Helton – and on the lust list of every woman.’
‘Lust list? Women have a lust list?’ He stared at her. ‘Who’s on yours?’
Eliza drew a finger across her lips. ‘I’m the soul of discretion.’
‘I’ll find out,’ Fin threatened.
‘That sounds like a challenge.’ Suddenly her interest in her food vanished. She looked at him, eyes dropping from those turbulent slate eyes to his mouth.
‘Don’t do that,’ he warned. ‘Unless you want to end up in the bedroom.’
‘What?’ She put down her knife and fork.
‘Your eyes go all unfocused when you think about sex – and when you’re doing it.’
Abruptly, she got up to clear the table, turning her head away so he couldn’t see her eyes. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. We’re too combustible.’
‘That’s a problem?’ He came around the table, trapping her there with one arm on either side. Though he barely touched her, she could feel the outline of his arousal through his jeans and the thin fabric of her short dress.
When he took the lobe of her right ear delicately between his teeth and tugged, she almost came apart.
‘I don’t like my lack of control where you’re concerned,’ she admitted.
He let go of her ear. With one hand, he lifted the curtain of her hair and pressed his lips to her nape. Eliza pressed her legs together against the sudden burn. It gave her only temporary relief.
‘If it’s any consolation, I’m not totally happy about the way you make me feel, either.’
‘Maybe we should talk about other things,’ she suggested.
‘My brain is pretty much single track right now.’
She ducked under his arm before he could react, put the table between them.
‘Did you know that when a woman runs from a man, it provokes the desire to chase?’ he said. His eyes were heavy-lidded and the bulge in his jeans even more pronounced.
‘Give it a moment,’ she said. ‘You might change your mind.’
‘When I want something, I rarely change my mind.’
‘I want to – to help,’ she stammered, searching desperately for a different topic, ‘at the mine. I’ve just wrapped up a case, which should pay well. Enough to afford someone experienced to do the blasting.’
He stilled and his eyes cooled. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘Mick.’ She shrugged. ‘He dropped around yesterday to tell me you were in town.’
‘I see.’
‘I don’t like it, Fin. Even with help, it sounds dangerous.’
‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake. I’m not challenging your competence. But you said yourself that mining is inherently dangerous. At least let me pay for a professional to oversee it alongside you.’
‘Out of the question.’
‘Fin, let me help.’
‘Let me run my mine my way.’ He shoved his hands in the jeans of his pockets.
Eliza bit her lip.
The subject of the mine’s ownership wasn’t something she wanted to discuss in the heat of the moment.
‘I don’t want to get into another fight about it,’ he muttered.
‘A difference of opinion doesn’t have to be a fight,’ she told him. ‘Be sensible, Fin. Even with Mick out there with you, if something went wrong it would be a while before help arrived. An explosives expert would reduce the risk of something going wrong in the first place.’
‘Explosives experts are in demand. I won’t get one in in the next few weeks, which is all the time I have left before the weather makes it impossible to continue.’
‘Fin.’ She took a breath. ‘I care about you, therefore I worry. Be sensible, that’s all I ask.’
‘Hell, Eliza! I care too but I’m not like your little lap dog, whatever his name is.’