Heart Of The Outback, Volume 2

by Margaret Way

  Steffi knocked on the door and a tingle ran through her when Matt opened it. He was wearing snug, faded denim jeans, frayed at the hems, almost white at the knees, and a brown thin-knit sweater, tanned skin visible in the V-neck, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, leaving his forearms bare and Steffi at a loss where to look.

  For want of a better option, she handed him the bottle of wine she held.

  “Come in.” He held an arm out for her to enter then padded in bare feet down the hallway. She followed suit, kicking off her flat shoes when they entered the back room, and took a deep breath in, the smell of grilled meat and garlic pervading the air. “Yum!”

  “I thought you might be starving.” He looked a little sheepish. “I am, so I’ve started cooking already.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” She looked around at the table, already set with simple placemats and cutlery, a jug of water and glasses.

  “You can open this.” He handed her the bottle of wine and a bottle opener. “And pour.” He pushed two glasses across the counter to her.

  “I’m not sure you struck me as the organised type.” She nodded at the table setting, the food already sizzling on the stove, plates at the ready. “Impressive.”

  “I probably don’t take as long in the shower as you.” His clear grey eyes took in her appearance, and she was glad she’d taken the extra few minutes to choose her outfit, slim-fitting cream pants and a silky black top. “And if I did, the results wouldn’t be nearly as worthwhile.”

  “Thanks. You can invite me over any time if you’re going to give me compliments.”

  He turned back to the steak sizzling on the grill, tossing sautéed mushrooms and aromatic garlic in a pan, draining icy water from asparagus and layering it on top of a salad of baby lettuce leaves and cucumber, placing slices of ripe avocado on top.

  He knows how to keep himself busy when he wants to ignore a comment, she reflected as she watched him slip baked potatoes from the oven onto their plates. What was going on with him? He seemed to come near then back away again, let her know he found her attractive then close up on her again. Should she try again? Take the direct approach?

  “You know, Matt, I haven’t had a lot of practice with this boy-and-girl-make-friends stuff.” She picked up the bowl of salad and caught his eye. He gave a nod and she carried it to the table and waited there, watching as he slid the steaks onto their plates and piled the garlicky mushrooms on top, then brought their plates across.

  He put the plates down and walked around to her, holding out her chair. He didn’t break the silence until he was also sitting.

  “Does that apply to us? Boy and girl make friends?” “What else would we be?”

  “I don’t know, Steffi. It’s been a long time since I’ve been involved with anyone, but it seems to me we’re headed for something more than that.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about it.” Her eyes locked with his and she silently dared him to look away.

  “I don’t know what I have to offer.”

  “What do you think you need to offer?” She vowed to get some answers out of him if it took all night.

  “A willingness to be involved?”

  “You’re not?” Maybe it was best to find that out now.

  “Are you?”

  She leant her elbows on the table either side of her plate and put her chin in her hands. “How long are we going to bat questions back and forth without giving any answers?”

  A twinkle appeared in his eyes and he said, “How long do you think?”

  “Wretch!” She pretended to grit her teeth at him, knowing the tension that had been building had dissipated. But she hadn’t gained anything. She’d have to work on her technique. She cut into her steak. It was perfectly cooked, juices flowing, mixing with the lusciousness of the field mushrooms. “Mmm.”

  “Good?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes and savouring the flavours. “Next time, I’ll cook a proper Polish meal for you.” Talk about mixed signals. Next time? But all she said was,

  “Polish?”

  “I come from a long line of cooks. My sister got the real foodie genes from my mum, but I can hold my own in the kitchen. Just.”

  “Your mother is Polish?”

  “Australian now but, yes, Polish by birth. My father, too.” The shutters came down again. “Do you cook?”

  Was a pattern emerging? Did he change the subject whenever anything personal, particularly about his family, was mentioned, or was it her imagination? He’d gone to boarding school but where was his home? She hadn’t even known if his parents were alive or dead. She wasn’t going to be sidetracked again.

  She ignored his question, asking her own instead. “How long have your parents lived in Australia?” “Since before Anna and I were born.” That was an answer. Of sorts. “Where do they live now?” “Up north.”

  “Where’s up north? Darwin? Alice Springs?” “Outback South Australia. In the middle of nowhere really. Do we have to talk about my parents?” “No. But what’s the big secret?”

  “There isn’t one. I’m just not used to talking about my family. Like I said once before, I grew up not fitting in. I’m not that comfortable making small talk about personal things.”

  “Message received loud and clear.”

  “It’s not meant as a brush-off. But what can be gained by chatting about things like my parents?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe getting to know each other?”

  “I can think of other ways to do that.”

  One minute infuriating, the next too charming for words.

  “Are you sure you’re all Polish, you’re not part-Irish?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Just making an observation about your wicked charms. What would you prefer to talk about, then, since your family tree is off limits?”

  He shrugged, feigning insouciance.

  “Us?” She suggested. “OK. I’ll go first.” Did a look of panic flash across his face? Too bad. He couldn’t make all the rules. “I think we need to work out where we’re both coming from. At least, I do. If you’re worried about us moving too fast, I want to go slow, too. My life is in a state of flux right now.”

  She picked up her glass and pretended to be absorbed in the colour of the wine, all the while wondering whether now was the time to set the example of openness, tell him about her panic attacks, come clean. Maybe she’d inspire reciprocity and get him to spill a few of his own secrets. Then again, it didn’t seem too likely, given what he’d just said, and his attitude on the beach about revealing too much, showing your failings. She decided against it. She’d already spilled most of her life story to him at Lauren and Jack’s wedding. She’d edit her story, leave out some of the key details for now. There’d always be another time to confide in him, when they’d covered more ground, were more intimate.

  She went on. “But I’d like to see what happens. With you and me. And, then, of course, my focus is still Jess. That’s one of the main reasons to move back, to give me more time with her.”

  “Then we’ll take it a day at a time.”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.”

  And that was it. They ate in relative silence, chatting now and again about inconsequential things like the weather. Comfortable enough but it left Steffi free to continue the argument with herself about whether or not to push things with Matt. So he had issues with intimacy—or maybe just her. Should she let that dictate what would happen? Finally she decided she’d have to shrug off the female genes and not insist on digging up all the answers tonight for what was really only a fledgling relationship.

  She put her knife and fork together. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. Dessert on the couch?”

  “You made dessert?”

  “Sure.”

  Steffi stared at him in awe—he’d done a lot in a short space of time—and he laughed. “Actually, no, I’m not quite that organised. I just happene
d to have butterscotch-whirl ice cream in the fridge. And honey and double chocolate fudge and berry ripple.” He stood up from the table, pushing his chair back with his foot, muttering as he walked to the kitchen and rummaged about in the freezer. “Or did Susie and I finish the chocolate last week?”

  Steffi cleared the table while he started pulling cartons out. She stacked the dishes next to the dishwasher and Matt waved her away to sit on the couch.

  “What’s your fancy?”

  “A bit of whatever you’ve got.” She tucked her legs up under her, settling onto the comfortable, shabby couch, another contrast to the new extension.

  “A woman after my own heart.” He came back to the couch and handed her an enormous bowl piled with huge scoops of multi-coloured ice cream.

  “No wonder Susie loves you.” She put a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and said, “Look over there!”

  “What?” Matt looked over his shoulder and Steffi leaned forward to steal a spoonful from his bowl, just quickly enough to slip it into her mouth before he realised what she was doing.

  “Fank “oo,” she mumbled, savouring the stolen mouthful. She swallowed. “I couldn’t resist. You had a luscious bit of butterscotch swirl in your bowl, all gooey and rich.”

  Matt shielded his bowl in an exaggerated gesture of protection. “The things we learn.”

  They concentrated on their ice cream and when she’d finished hers, Steffi lay back in the couch, sated.

  Matt took her hand and simply held it. “You know this boy-girl-friends thing?”

  She nodded. “Mmm.”

  They settled back, side by side, leaning into each other.

  His voice dropped lower, found a husky note. “Is it the done thing for the boy to tell the girl he thinks she’s beautiful?”

  “I think I read in the manual that’s OK.”

  He traced a finger along the contour of her cheekbone, sliding it down to her jaw, stroking the soft skin just below her ear. “What does it say the girl does when the boy tells her that he wants very much to kiss her?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think—” her voice was barely a whisper “—there was anything about that.” The suspense was delicious.

  “Shall we update the edition?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  With his fingers, he cupped one side of her face, tilting her mouth up to his, his thumb moving firmly across her cheek, caressing, proprietorial. His arm was about her waist and she snuggled closer, waiting for him to cover her lips with his own. And when it happened, the kiss drew them into their own world, their awareness focused solely on the here and now, the taste and scent, the feel of each other.

  Steffi’s hands fluttered to his stomach, feeling the lines of muscle beneath the soft fabric of his jumper. Lifting the fabric to feel the satin of his skin, she gasped as he pulled her closer, closing a hand over hers, moving it lower, exploring, inviting, before moving her hand back to her lap, stroking her fingers between his own, bringing them back to reality.

  “No wonder the manual didn’t have anything to say about that.”

  “Maybe it was in the advanced edition.” She managed to sound flippant but inside her emotions were running riot. “Where to from here?”

  “You’re the man. Don’t you try and seduce me now?” He laughed. “You’re not afraid to be upfront.” “Does that bother you?”

  “No, no, it doesn’t. I like it that you don’t play games. I like it that you’re honest. But, I have to tell you, that still doesn’t mean I know where this can go.”

  She leant into him. “It’s OK, it’s early days and neither of us knows that, but I would like to know what it is that makes you so reluctant to offer anything at all.”

  “Will it help if I tell you it’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to me? That I don’t let a lot of people in at all? That’s just the way I am.”

  She stroked his jaw. “Is that the best I can hope for out of you tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, yes, that helps.” And it did. Sort of. But although she thought physical intimacy wasn’t an issue for him, it was hard to shrug off the nagging doubts. Why was he so closed emotionally?

  “I enjoy spending time with you, I think you’re beautiful.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “Let’s do what I suggested before and take this one day at a time. Get to know each other, wait and see.”

  She nodded. She didn’t see that she had much choice. If it was that or nothing, she’d take what she could get.

  It was the mature decision, not diving in too quickly, not making rash promises that would have to be broken later. But she knew that if he took her in his arms again now, maturity be hanged. She’d throw caution to the wind and be his. All night. For however long he wanted, because for her one night wouldn’t be enough.

  Steffi slipped the blood-pressure cuff back into her bag and patted her elderly client on an arm that had seen too much sun over the years. “You’re doing nicely, Mrs Oatey, no hidden surprises today. Let’s just see to your wound and we’ll be about done.” She slipped a pillow onto the woman’s lap and covered it with a sterile woven-fibre sheet, lifting her other arm and resting it on the pillow.

  Mrs Oatey was a regular client of Community Health, needing weekly home visits for a variety of ailments, and, since she’d grazed her arm badly on an old piece of wood, daily checks.

  Steffi removed the dressings, checking to make sure the healing skin hadn’t caught on the cloth. Her paper-thin skin had quite literally torn away, leaving an angry-looking weeping wound. Steffi cleaned the area before applying the antibiotic ointment and rebandaging it.

  “It’s looking good. Karen will check on you tomorrow and I’ll see you again next week.”

  Heading off to her next client, Steffi reflected on the week so far. It felt like a week of new beginnings. Jess had started school yesterday and once she’d been introduced to her new teacher, she’d all but pushed Steffi out the door, happy in the company of Susie and her noisy little group of friends. And again today she’d gone off quite happily. A far cry from the Jess of last term who’d been dragging herself off to school.

  On top of that, as much as she could tell after one and a half days on the job, her work at Community Health was looking good. The work wasn’t stressful but looked like it would be varied enough to be interesting—and she’d get to know her regular clients, which would be a bonus. Her panic attacks seemed to be under control, or at least improving. Since she’d averted the one at Lauren and Jack’s wedding, she’d been able to identify the beginnings of panic since then and talk herself through it. In fact, there had been hardly any instances of strong anxiety anyway.

  She knew it was thanks to Nadine that she was on the path to improvement, but a certain rough-around-the-edges country man seemed to be a good-luck talisman, too. Hadn’t things started looking up the very day she’d met him? She’d coped with the incredibly stressful situation of the tanker explosion with him by her side. And he was the one who’d been giving her kisses she’d never even imagined in her wildest dreams. And they seemed to have agreed to start something. She just wasn’t quite sure what.

  She cranked up the radio and drummed on the steering-wheel as she turned her car in the direction of her next visit. She had a date with Matt tonight and the mere thought of it was enough to send a little shudder of anticipation rippling through her. Finally, life was heading in a direction she’d never dared hope. Take it one day a time, Matt had asked her. She’d be a fool not to, there were just too many good things happening not to take the time to savour each moment. Her breath caught in her throat as she imagined tonight. Would Matt also want to take their relationship one step further? Maybe he’d see it as not taking it one step at a time, but she was ready. She could hardly think of anything other than Matt making love to her.

  Her mobile rang and she pulled over to the side of the road to answer it.

  “Steffi speaking.”

  “Hi, Stef, it�
��s Matt.”

  The day seemed even brighter. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. We’re just leaving Kingoonya. Barring any delays, I’ll be collecting you on time for the movie.”

  “Just don’t be early. I need time to make myself presentable after work.”

  “I promise you won’t hear anything but compliments, Steffi Harrison.”

  She laughed.

  “I’m looking forward to tonight. What time do you finish?”

  “Three o’clock. I took a really quick lunch, I wanted to be able to pick Jess up from school. Are you sure Anna doesn’t mind babysitting?”

  “Of course not. And even if she did, she owes me some babysitting in return for all the times I’ve had Susie.” Steffi could hear humour in Matt’s voice. She knew he loved having Susie around. “So, how’s it all going at work today?”

  “So far, so good. It’s a dream compared to my last job in Adelaide but I don’t get to bump into any tall, dark and handsome men. Not under the age of sixty, anyway.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’m the only tall, dark man you should be bumping into these days.”

  Believe me, you’re the only one I’ve ever bumped into. “You forgot the handsome bit.” Matt snorted.

  “I’ll just have to prove it to you tonight, until you beg for mercy and agree with me.” “That could take a while.” “I think you might be propositioning me.” “You think right.” “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Pretend away.” Steffi heard muffled sounds from the other end of the line before Matt spoke again. “Ryan’s heading for the plane so I’d better go. See you tonight—sixish?”

  “See you then.”

  Matt felt alive with anticipation as he turned into Steffi’s driveway. He couldn’t remember the last time the prospect of an evening out had held such attraction. The movie he’d chosen had received great reviews but a romantic comedy was not his normal taste in cinema. Then again, the movie was really irrelevant. Tonight was all about Steffi. The night was theirs and theirs alone.