A Daughter’s Choice

by Lee Christine

  When Donald said nothing she clenched her fists and stepped closer. ‘You just don’t give a shit, do you?’

  ‘Why the fuck does it matter now?’ he snapped as though the passing years expunged any wrongdoing.

  ‘It matters because your actions deprived me of time with my daughter. Time that I can never get back. Nine years she’s been in Brisbane. She would have come home to Julian in the university holidays. She would have spent more time with her family—with me, Willow and Atlas, with you if you’d shown her you wanted to be part of her life.’ Veronica swallowed the catch in her voice. ‘She might have come home for good after she’d finished her degree, but you made sure she never felt welcome here in Mindalby. You and Yasmin drove her away from the boy she loved, you and your insatiable greed.’

  ‘You’ve established all this from some old records the taxation office don’t even need to see?’ he said with a superior sneer.

  ‘Maybe not the taxation office, but the administrator and police will be interested. As for you warning Lynsey and I what we can and can’t do, well, you don’t have control over either of us anymore. And I’m not frightened of you, Donald, I never have been. But if you so much as lay a hand on our daughter I swear you’ll see a side of me you didn’t know existed.’

  Suddenly tired, Veronica swung away and went to pick up the wrench. She’d said her piece. She and Lynsey would hand the documents over tomorrow, and her former husband could sweat in the sordid mess he’d created for himself. After that, she had a beautiful daughter to take care of and a town who needed her support.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Donald do a quick hop backwards as she straightened up with the wrench in her hand.

  He really was a gutless wonder.

  ‘Stay away from Lynsey.’ Veronica slipped the tool into her pocket and headed back across the dewy grass in the direction of home. ‘And get shatter-proof glass next time.’

  She smiled as the neighbour’s dog growled at her again from behind the brush fence.

  It sure felt good to be the badass for once.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Against her will and better judgement, Lynsey was captivated by Julian’s half-sleeve of tattoos.

  He’d discarded the leather jacket as soon as they’d walked into the office, draping it over the back of a chair and switching on a single desk lamp. Now, in the intimate darkness of the reception area, she studied the skin art from the corner of her eye. The wounded angel above his elbow came to life as he unfastened the silver split pins holding a stack of bank statements together. Lynsey moistened her lips, fingers itching to push up the banded cuff of his sleeve and discover what pattern decorated the smooth skin of his rock-solid shoulder.

  Instead, she took another bundle of papers from his hands, their fingers making contact and sending little quivers up her arm. Despite her nervous excitement at their closeness, she was conscious of time, of being a nuisance, of keeping him up when he’d rather be asleep at home.

  ‘You don’t know how relieved I am to see your copier has an automatic document feeder,’ she said.

  ‘You don’t know how relieved I am to get here in one piece.’

  They both laughed, and the tension in the room eased a little.

  ‘Are you serious, Stone?’ Lynsey planted a hand on her hip and gave him the sassy look she used to give him in high school. ‘I really managed to scare a tough guy like you?’

  ‘I almost wet my pants.’

  ‘Never.’ Lynsey fought the urge to dip her eyes to his crotch and pretended to check the progress of the photocopying. ‘You can sit through the agony of having all that ink done, and yet you’re terrified of a woman driver.’

  ‘Not women drivers in general. Just you.’

  She chuckled, catching the teasing glint in his eye in the flash of the machine. He moved a little closer and she inhaled a heady mix of warm skin and fresh clean male. It would be so easy to turn towards him and close the gap, to slide her arms around his waist and rest her head on his shoulder.

  She swallowed hard and ignored the rush of longing. No matter how tempting, ‘sex with the ex’ was always a bad idea. So was flirting with Julian in an ‘old friends’ kind of way, especially with Caprice on the scene. And while the mill’s insolvency could compromise her study visa, she hadn’t entirely given up hope of doing her Masters. Somehow, it seemed more important than ever now—learning new skills then bringing those skills and farming methods back to Australia, and Mindalby.

  Back to Mindalby?

  She glanced at Julian again out of the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure about coming back to Mindalby, but while she was here, there was nothing wrong with a girl looking, was there?

  ‘Why did you choose these particular images?’ She pointed to his utterly palatable upper arm. Assorted letters surrounded the angel, most of them embellished with flowers and butterflies.

  He shrugged. ‘I was over trying to hide my dyslexia. Like you, people are naturally curious about the tattoo. When I explain it’s how the letters look to me, it’s out in the open and done with.’

  ‘Good strategy.’ She watched him pull the rubber bands off a bundle of certificates he took out of the box. ‘So, how’s all that going?’ She kept her tone light, conversational, unsure of how Julian would react. He’d never had a problem discussing it with her in the past, but the waters had been muddied since then.

  ‘Figures are easy for me, which is handy in my line of work.’ He spoke over the whir of the high-speed copier. ‘I use figures all day—profit margins, mileage, the cost of fuel per litre. Reading’s not so much of a problem anymore. There are techniques.’ He shot her a look from the corner of his eye. ‘There’s no risk of me becoming a bookworm anytime soon though.’

  ‘I doubt you would have become a bookworm anyway.’

  Not with that body.

  The photocopier turned itself off and Lynsey picked up the originals and copies and arranged them neatly on the credenza.

  ‘My attitude changed when I found out a lot of successful people are dyslexic.’

  ‘Lost that chip on your shoulder, huh?’

  ‘Yeah—almost.’

  There was a pause. Julian’s watch beeped to signal midnight.

  ‘Richard Branson’s dyslexic.’

  ‘Is he really?’

  ‘We’re a special breed, we are. Identified, rather than diagnosed, as people who learn differently from others.’

  The scientist in Lynsey grew curious. ‘How does that work, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘Nope.’ He picked up another bundle of papers from inside the carton and handed them to her. ‘Most people learn through steps. They start with the easiest task, master that, then move onto a harder one. Dyslexics are often able to see the end result of something. They learn by breaking the big picture down into a series of steps. Opposite to the way we’re taught in school.’

  ‘So, you’re a big picture person?’

  ‘I am.’

  Lynsey smiled and got ready to feed through the next bundle. A red icon blinked on the photocopier. ‘I think we’re out of paper.’

  ‘No. That’s a paper jam.’

  She watched as he opened the panels on the copier and peered into the internal workings of the machine.

  ‘Here, let me.’ Lynsey moved in front of him. ‘I have smaller fingers and I’m the go-to person at work for this.’ She weaved her fingers through the inside mechanism of the photocopier and grasped at the edge of the paper. The clean sheet had folded in two and concertinaed itself close to the barrel. Holding the edge of the paper in a pincer grip, Lynsey slowly began to tug it free.

  ‘Ouch!’ She jumped as pain sliced through her finger.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Just a paper cut.’ A line of blood oozed from the pad of her middle finger.

  ‘I’ll get a bandaid. Bridie keeps some in her desk.’

  While Julian rummaged through drawers, Lynsey sucked on the tip of her sma
rting finger and managed to clear the paper jam with her other hand.

  ‘Here you go. Don’t want to get blood all over the evidence.’ He came towards her holding the bandaid, but then stopped, his eyes moving to her mouth.

  Embarrassed heat warmed Lynsey’s face and she lowered her hand and rolled her lips inward. She hadn’t meant it as a ‘come on’ move. Didn’t everyone suck their finger when they had a paper cut?

  Julian shook his head. With an expression that made her feel like an errant schoolgirl, he took hold of her hand and held it up for inspection. He clicked his tongue. ‘Look what you’ve done. You’ve made it all wet.’

  Lynsey’s legs turned weak as his heated gaze roamed her features. With her hand imprisoned in his, he ripped the bandaid packet open with his teeth, reminding her how he used to open the condoms before they’d make love.

  Blood charged through the chambers of Lynsey’s heart with such force she had to close her eyes. Was he going to kiss her or take her injured finger into the warm cavern of his mouth?

  And then he was applying the sticking plaster, winding it around her finger and securing it in place. When she finally summoned the courage to open her eyes it was to see a satisfied smile curving his lips.

  ‘All done, Lyns,’ he said, staring hard at her. He bent his head and kissed her finger better. ‘I think you’ll live.’

  Not if he kept this up she wouldn’t.

  With every skerrick of willpower she possessed, Lynsey returned to sorting and copying the papers. She and Julian had been brought together by an unusual set of circumstances, but that was no reason for them to lose their heads in an effort to recapture the past. Despite the undeniable attraction between them, they were never going to be right for each other. She had a secure job in Brisbane in a profession she loved. A week ago, she’d been enjoying dinner with Jeremy and putting things in place for her move to America. As for the possibility of returning to Mindalby to run the mill some day—that future option was disappearing fast.

  Lynsey slid the final bundle of papers into the feeder and looked around at everything Julian had worked for. Even if they managed to have a relationship, how would it survive if he lost it all—knowing it was her father responsible for ruining a once thriving country town and his whole livelihood in the mix?

  How would Julian look at her then?

  Certainly not the way he was looking at her now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  He’d watched Stone get out of his four-wheel-drive and open up the depot gates. The dental nurse with the big tits had probably been the person in the driver’s seat, but he hadn’t been sure. They’d parked the car and disappeared inside so quickly it had been difficult to see her face from where he was parked across the road.

  He shifted his gaze towards the mill. The last of the picket line protestors had gone home. The only movements in the carpark now were two smoking forty-four gallon drums gushing smoke from their recent dousing with water.

  Suddenly Stone was outside again, opening and closing the gates before climbing behind the wheel. He strained his eyes trying to see who was in the passenger seat. He could have sworn the Carter’s blue Camry had pulled up in front of Stone’s townhouse earlier. It was just bad luck that Stone had been standing out the front. It had forced him to keep driving. By the time he’d made it around the block the Camry had disappeared.

  He’d prowled around town for a while, hoping to spot Lynsey Carter again. His search had turned up jack shit. That was when he’d spotted Stone’s vehicle and followed it to the depot.

  Now he watched as the Land Cruiser swung onto Burton Park Road. In a flash of headlights from a vehicle travelling in the opposite direction, he saw a blonde woman outlined in the passenger seat.

  Jackpot!

  He sneered and turned on the ignition. The blonde wasn’t the dental nurse with the big rack but that fine piece of arse, Lynsey Carter.

  What was she doing slumming it with a pretty boy like Stone, when what she really needed was a taste of real male company?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Julian switched on his fog lights and headed for his place via the back streets. The town was silent, the houses in darkness, the brightness of the street lights diminished to an ineffective glow. Mindalby slept, snuggled beneath a soft, misty blanket.

  Julian turned up the heater and glanced at Lynsey. Their earlier camaraderie had disintegrated into a strained awkwardness, and for the second time since leaving the office he gave himself a mental uppercut for pushing her too hard.

  She’d been right to put a bit of space between them so they could both cool off. They hadn’t been in each other’s lives for nine years. It was crazy to think they could pick up where they’d left off just because she was back in town for a while. But then Lynsey had always made him a little crazy, and judging by tonight he hadn’t grown out of it.

  He glanced at her now as he passed the primary school then turned right into Forbes Street. She was turned a little towards him, eyes closed, her head resting against the seat. A lock of cool blonde hair had fallen across her cheek and a fist tightened around Julian’s heart. In less than eight hours she and her mother would hand the documents over to Felicity Robinson and David Gresham. Who knew what would happen after that?

  A flash of headlights drew his attention to the rear-view mirror. A car had come out of nowhere and was sitting on his tail. Julian slowed down and kept his eye on the vehicle, conscious of the incriminating material stowed in the boot of his car.

  The lights disappeared.

  Julian frowned. He checked his side mirror to see if the car had pulled over. It was still there, its nose right up his backside.

  ‘What the hell,’ he muttered, swerving around a pothole then planting his foot on the accelerator. He put some distance between him and the other vehicle. Lynsey stirred in the passenger seat and opened her eyes.

  ‘I think we’ve got company.’

  She turned around and peered between the seats. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘He’s turned his lights off. It’s weird.’ Julian sped up again, the high showground fence on his left. The car behind kept pace. ‘I’m going to make a couple of turns up ahead. I want to see if this lout’s skylarking or whether he’s really following us.’

  Keeping the showground on his left Julian turned into Black Rock Road and headed for the Darling River. The car stayed close, its lights off.

  ‘Hang on,’ Julian warned as he approached the next intersection. Maintaining his speed he waited until the last second, then turned right without using his indicator. The other driver fell for it, the car coming to a screeching stop and almost standing on its nose in the middle of the intersection. Julian floored the Land Cruiser, hands gripping the wheel, eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror as he watched to see what the driver would do. The car reversed, then swung right and followed them into St George Boulevard.

  ‘Shit. This is no lout out for a laugh.’

  Lynsey turned again, one hand braced against the dashboard, the other holding onto the seat. ‘Maybe it’s me they’re following. I’ve been getting that feeling lately.’

  ‘What feeling?’

  ‘That someone …’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I don’t know … just that someone is following me.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, watching as the vehicle behind began to gain ground.

  ‘A black ute pipped me. I pulled over and let him go past.’

  That didn’t surprise Julian—not the way Lynsey drove.

  ‘I think I saw the same ute outside Dad’s place. It was idling near the Camry. I tried to read the plate but I didn’t have my glasses on. It sped off when I got too close.’

  ‘You tell anyone?’

  ‘No.’

  Julian’s body jerked and he heard Lynsey scream as the car rammed them from behind. Adrenaline surged into his system and he tasted blood, the seatbelt tightening around his body as he fought to get the four-wheel-drive under con
trol.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ He raked his eyes over Lynsey, blood pounding in his ears. She shook her head and relief coursed through him. Gritting his teeth, Julian pressed the accelerator to the floor. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Still there. Go to the police station.’

  ‘It’s unmanned. We’d have to call ahead. Keep watching. Tell me where he is.’

  ‘You’re a block ahead now. He’s turned his lights back on. I’ll call the station.’ She leaned over and began rummaging through her bag, then stopped and looked at him. ‘I don’t have the number. I used your phone the other day.’

  ‘Get mine.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Right pocket. Wait. Keep your eye on him.’ He had the car at one hundred and twenty. He sped towards town, praying another vehicle didn’t pull out from the side streets. He lifted his hips and took one hand off the wheel, digging in his hip pocket for his phone. The car leaned.

  ‘Keep your hands on the wheel,’ Lynsey cried. ‘I’ll get it.’

  Julian clamped his hand back on the wheel and brought the car under control again. ‘Where is he?’

  She glanced over her shoulder. ‘A little closer now than before.’

  ‘Can you reach my phone?’

  He pushed himself back into the seat as Lynsey crawled across his lap.

  ‘Can’t reach.’ Her breath was coming hard and fast and she straightened and took a quick look over her shoulder. ‘I need to undo my seatbelt.’

  ‘Don’t. If I brake you’ll go through the windscreen.’

  Jesus. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. He needed to lose this maniac now.

  ‘Julian.’ Lynsey’s voice quavered and he sensed her looking at him. ‘There’s blood everywhere.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ He glanced at the cross streets. Two blocks from Burton Park Road. ‘I split my lip on the wheel.’