by Annie Seaton
Bloody Gran. She was an old meddler. He’d have to warn Bella.
“Don’t get that tone in your voice. She only wants the best for you. She wants you to stay here and be happy.” Pop looked at him anxiously. “Do you think you’ll stay?”
“I’m here. And don’t worry, I’ll do the right thing.” Sebastian smiled. “But Pop, it’s good to have you home, too.” He avoided answering the direct question. How could he say what his plans were when he didn’t know what each day would bring? “How long till you pair head off on your next trip?”
Pop sighed. “I’d like to stay home for a while, but your grandmother reckons it will cramp your style with a couple of oldies in the house with you. So we’re off again next month.”
“Where to this time? Somewhere exotic?”
Pop shook his head. “Exotic enough, but no more overseas. I put my foot down. If I have to travel, I want to see some more of our country. So we’re going to the Northern Territory on a coach trip. I’m sick of being in planes.”
Sebastian nodded. A plume of dust whipped into the sky from the direction of the back gate.
“Jeez, that wind’ll blow a dog off a chain if it gets much stronger. It’s not going to be very pleasant at the racetrack.” Pop picked up his hat and pushed it onto his head.
“Harry Peterkin, by the time you settle at the bar with your old cronies, you won’t even notice the wind or the dust.” Gran pushed open the screen door and pulled the front door shut behind her.
“Woo hoo, Gran, look at you. All tarted up.” Sebastian whistled.
“Manners please, Sebastian.” But Gran smiled, and the colour in her cheeks deepened as she adjusted her hat.
“Help your grandfather with the eskies, please. I put them outside the laundry door,” Gran said as Lucy pulled up in the driveway.
“Here, Pop. Pass it to me and I’ll lift it in.” Garth came around the back of the vehicle and hoisted the smaller esky into the back of the SUV, and Sebastian slid the larger one into the space beside it.
“You sit up front with Garth, Seb, and I’ll ride in the back with Gran and Pop.” Lucy got out of the car as Sebastian opened the back door for Gran. He held out his hand and helped her up into the high vehicle.
Sebastian peered inside the car. The baby booster seat wasn’t there, nor was James. “Where’s James?”
“Melinda, Jerry Ferguson’s granddaughter, offered to babysit for the day. She’s a preschool teacher in town, and she didn’t want to go to the races.” Lucy smiled. “So I can have fun with the girls.”
“Melinda will be the only one in the whole district not there today. But it’s good that you can enjoy yourself without worrying about James, love,” Gran said.
Sebastian climbed into the passenger seat in the front and looked back at Gran as Garth started the engine. “That esky was pretty light. That’s not as much food as you usually take, is it, Gran?”
His grandmother waved a dismissive glove-clad hand. “Don’t you worry about the food. It’s all sorted. Come-by-Chance won’t know what’s hit it this year.”
“Is it the same picnic as it used to be? It must be ten years since I came to one of these race meetings.”
“Yes, everyone takes a picnic lunch, and we put it all out on the communal tables that will be set up. Still not allowed to take alcohol in; it’s all provided at the bar.”
“Okay.” He looked suspiciously at Gran as she nudged Lucy. “So what’s so special about the food this year? Did you learn some fancy nouvelle cuisine dishes while you’ve been in Europe?”
“Don’t you worry. You won’t starve. I’ve just brought a couple of lemon meringue pies for dessert. Bella’s doing the rest.”
“Bella?” He stared at his grandmother.
“Yes, Prickle Creek Farm is doing a gourmet lunch this year. I’ve been talking to Bella on the phone. I bought the ingredients, and she’s prepared all of the savoury cold food.”
Bella! Not Isabella. And Gran had been on the phone with her, arranging things. Very chummy by the sound of things. Gran was up to something. He was right to be worried after what Pop had said.
Sebastian turned his head to Lucy. She looked away, but not before he caught her smile. Yes, the pair of them were definitely up to something. He’d put money on it.
“Look, there’s Liam and Angie’s car. They’re waiting for us at the turnoff.” Gran’s expression was innocent as Sebastian turned back around to talk to Garth.
Half an hour later, the two vehicles were parked in a paddock next to the racetrack beside hundreds of other vehicles: cars, utes, SUVs, and work trucks as well as the occasional horse float standing high in the rows of cars.
As Lucy held out one hand for the car keys to put in her bag, she looked up and smiled at Sebastian. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were having another baby. After all, according to Lucy, she was going to have six.
“So how come you volunteered to drive, Luce?” he asked. “I thought you were going to have a day with the girls. I know how much you love a champagne or two.”
Gran smiled, Lucy nodded, and Garth’s grin was wide.
“So do you have something to tell us?” he teased.
“Yep, a winter baby next year. So I’ll be drinking soda water today.” Lucy patted her flat tummy beneath the figure-hugging green lacy dress she was wearing. “And I won’t be able to wear this dress for much longer.”
“Not that there’s much call for evening wear in Spring Downs,” Sebastian said as he hugged Lucy and then shook Garth’s hand. “Congratulations, mate.”
But as happy as he was for Lucy and Garth, he repressed a shiver. Not the sort of life that appealed to him. He was a long way from being ready for fatherhood.
As they walked across the paddock to the gate leading to the track, Sebastian kept his eyes peeled for a canary-yellow Citroën.
…
Isabella stood in the large marquee next to the race club building that had been set up for the food. A series of bain maries lined the back wall, and power cords snaked up the tent posts and under the flap over to the small building. The smell of the warming food filled the air with enticing aromas. The items she’d prepared could stay in the coolers until lunchtime. She’d decided to forgo cooking hot dishes when Dad had told her that forty degrees had been forecast for the day. She was happy not to be spending the summer here. A memory of her school uniform sticking uncomfortably to her back in high school flitted into her mind. It was hard to summon up many good memories of living out here. But to be fair, the summers in Florence could get pretty hot, too.
Preparing the food for today had been a great practice run for next weekend’s wedding. Isabella had been able to source all of the ingredients without much trouble—even the gourmet items—and Dad’s small kitchen had been more than ample to prepare the hors d’oeuvres last night. It had been after midnight when she’d finished cooking late and added four large savoury flans to the cooler. She’d gone to bed satisfied that next weekend’s catering would be just as easy. The wedding menu was finalised, and she had ordered the last items online last night while the flans were in the oven.
The quantities for the wedding were large like she was used to. Isabella had catered for events in her last job, and she would have plenty of helpers, according to Helena. She was really looking forward to doing what she loved. The kitchen at Prickle Creek Farm was a chef’s dream. Better than some of the restaurant kitchens she’d worked in over the past few years. But even in the cramped space in Dad’s small apartment, it had been good to get back to some real cooking.
“Isabella!”
She turned as her name was called over the noise of the crowd in the marquee. Dozens of men and women were unpacking eskies and coolers and portable refrigerators. The array of food beginning to fill the tables promised a sumptuous feast for the day ahead.
Lucy was walking towards her, a wide smile on her face.
“Lucy.” Isabella stood and smiled back. “Wow, look at you. That
dress looks gorgeous! And the hat is perfect!”
Lucy twirled in her high heels and then nodded at Isabella. “But look at you. Absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.”
Isabella smoothed her fingers over the midnight blue fabric. “It is a beautiful dress. I love the feel of the silk against my skin.”
Lucy nodded. “And the shoes are divine, and I’m so pleased you decided not to wear a hat. Your hair looks great like that. Did you book into Marcy’s to get your hair done this morning?”
Isabella reached up and touched the pale-blue fascinator with the small net that she’d pinned to the top of her curls. “No. I did it myself. I had to send Dad to the supermarket for a can of hair spray to keep my hair up. This wind is so strong.”
Lucy linked her arm through Isabella’s. “Are you all sorted here?”
“Yes. I’ve got the table space reserved and the coolers are underneath. I just have to put the food out when it’s time to eat.”
“Great. Did your Dad drive across or did you?”
“Dad booked us on the bus from town.” She couldn’t help the soft smile. “He’s so determined for me to have a wonderful day here. I think he really believes if I enjoy myself I’ll consider staying.”
Lucy shot her a curious look. “Would it be so bad?”
“Oh, Lucy don’t you start on me. It’s not going to happen. I’m only here for a few more weeks. As much as I love spending time with you all, remember I’m only visiting.”
“I know. But I can still miss you when you go,” Lucy said as they walked out of the marquee together and Isabella looked around. “Come on, we’ll get a drink. Garth and Liam were setting up the chairs for us fairly close to the bar.”
Lucy pointed to a group of chairs, a few metres from the side of a small building that was covered with tree branches. Garth and Liam were arranging the chairs around a small table, but there was no sign of Sebastian.
But she wasn’t going to ask.
“I wondered what that building was. It’s the bar?” She and Dad had walked around the back of the small building to get to the food marquee a little while ago. “What’s with the branches?” She put her hand to her hair and turned her head as a strong gust of wind blew dust into her face.
“Yes, it’s the bar. The branches are there to make shade over the uncovered part of the verandah. Although in this wind I don’t know how long they’ll last,” Lucy said.
A warm hand touched Isabella’s elbow, and she waited for the wind to ease before she looked up into a smiling face.
“Hey there.” Sebastian’s smile was wide and she grinned back.
“Hello,” she said. “Look at you. Out of your usual black gear. But you’ve still got the camera.” She tapped the strap holding the camera firmly against that broad chest.
“I’ll go and order our drinks while you keep Seb company.” Lucy’s smile was guileless. “Why don’t you take Isabella’s photo before the wind destroys her hair?”
Before either of them could answer, Lucy hurried across to the bar.
“That sounds like a good idea.” His deep voice sent warmth blossoming in her cheeks, and then when he took her hand to lead her to the fence, her nerve endings skittered and her legs trembled.
“I love the sexy net over your face,” he said. “Put one arm along the rail and half turn to me. Lower your head a bit and then look up through the net.”
Isabella’s face warmed even more as Sebastian’s gaze roamed from the fascinator in her hair down to the ridiculously high-heeled shoes she was wearing. That was why her legs were shaking, it had nothing to do with the way he was looking at her.
“You don’t really need to take my photo, do you?”
“Yes I do. I’m taking photos of every part of the races today. And you look beautiful, Bella. Love the shoes!”
“Thank you. It was fun getting dressed up.”
His gaze skimmed over her as he lifted the camera. “Nice to see legs, too.” His grin was cheeky and her tummy fluttered.
“Nice to see you out of a T-shirt for a change,” she shot back. Although the looser shirt didn’t do justice to the broad chest that she knew was underneath the crisply ironed cotton shirt. “And you look like a country boy.”
“Don’t wish that on me,” he said, but his smile was wide. “Where’s your dad?”
“Um.” Isabella cleared her throat, her nerves tingling. “He found his mates from the club, and they went over to put a bet on.”
Sebastian snapped off a couple of shots and then looked down at the camera. “Perfect!”
“Email me one. It’ll be a good memory of this day when I’m back at work.” Isabella looked around at the crowds of people streaming in the gate. She hadn’t realised so many people lived out here.
“It will. You can reminisce about the Come-by-Chance races when you’re over at Ascot hoity-toiting with the British.”
“I’ll be more likely slaving over a grill cooking for them.” She looked at him as he took her arm again. “How did you know that The Three Ducks isn’t far from Ascot?”
“I didn’t. I was just teasing you.” He gripped her hand tightly as she almost stumbled. “I’m worried about you going over on this uneven ground in those heels. Do you want me to piggyback you?”
“Piggyback! That would totally take away from this elegance I spent all my money on. Just let me hang onto you till I reach a chair. These shoes were not such a good idea.” She looked down ruefully as she negotiated the uneven dusty ground. “I was imagining a racecourse with paths and grass around it.”
“You won’t find that in the Pilliga Scrub, Bella.”
“No. I guess it was a silly expectation.”
He took her other hand. “Let me help you.”
“Okay. I’m in your hands.” She lowered her gaze and looked at Sebastian through the net. It was a long time since she’d flirted. She was having a lot of fun. He held her gaze, and she was glad of the support of his hands when an exquisite little quiver ran down her legs.
“Have you picked a winner for the day?” He nodded towards the stables as he led her through the crowd. The ground was even now, but he still held on to her hands.
“I haven’t had time to think about it. I was getting the food out of the bus. We haven’t been here long.”
“Bus? That’s why I didn’t see your dad’s car parked over there.”
“Yeah, we came on the bus from town. Dad wants us both to have a good day.”
“Well, we’ll make sure you do.” His voice lowered. “Listen, I hope Gran hasn’t been bothering you.”
“Bothering me? No, I was happy to help out.”
“That’s good, then. She can be an old witch when she wants her own way.”
“Her own way?” Isabella frowned. “What does she want?”
Before he could answer, Lucy caught up to them, juggling a can of beer, a can of soda water, and a glass of champagne. “I got one for you too, Seb.”
“Thanks. Come on. We’ll go and get settled.” He held her hands firmly. “Hang on tight. This is where the ground gets rocky. Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?”
“I’m sure.”
By the time they reached the group settled onto the chairs in front of the racetrack, Isabella was giggling. Sebastian had walked backwards as he guided her over the uneven ground. Every so often, he’d stop to chat and introduce her to someone he knew, or if he wanted to snap a photo, he’d make sure she was stable on her shoes, let her go, take the photo, and then take both her hands again.
By the time they’d negotiated their way over to the chairs and garnered a lot of smiles from the crowd on the way, it seemed natural when Sebastian slung his arm around her shoulder as they joined his family.
It felt warm…and nice.
Chapter Seventeen
“No way!” Helena’s voice rose, and she tapped her fan on Liam’s shoulder. “That old nag has no chance. Take my advice and put your money on Ted’s ‘Lucky Streak.’”
&nb
sp; “Listen to your grandmother, Liam,” Pop said. “That horse is going to romp it in.”
Liam laughed and nudged Sebastian. “What do you reckon, Seb? I reckon old Sam would have a better chance than that old fellow of Ted’s winning.”
“I’m with Liam, Gran.” Sebastian’s eyes were twinkling. “You’re gonna do your dough.”
Helena folded her arms and smiled. “I’ve never once lost money at the races.”
“There’s always a first time.” Sebastian laughed when he received a tap of the fan for that comment. “You’ve got no chance this year.”
Happy banter and the opinions on the chances of each horse winning the J O’Brien Memorial Come-By-Chance cup filled the air as the family argued about which horses to bet on. As Isabella stood and listened to the men tease their grandmother, she felt a tap on her shoulder and Lucy squealed.
“Oh yes, Isabella.” Her squeal was echoed by the congratulations of those around her as the man who had tapped Isabella made his way to a young woman sitting in the next group.
“What did that mean?” Isabella looked back at Sebastian who was standing behind her chair. Every time he leaned over to speak to Liam or Garth, his arm brushed her shoulder or his head was almost cheek to cheek with hers. A woodsy aftershave tickled her nose when he was close. “Lucy? Seb?”
“Sorry, Bella. What did you say?” Sebastian’s breath whispered across her cheek as Lucy continued to jump up and down, clapping her hands.
“I asked what it meant when that man over there carrying the clipboard tapped my shoulder and Lucy squealed.”
“I don’t know.” He turned to Garth. “Garth, what’s Lucy so excited about?”
Lucy grabbed her husband’s arm. “Gosh, I forgot none of you have been here before…or in Seb’s case, too long ago to remember how it works.” She held her hand up to high-five Isabella. “You’ve made the final of Miss Come-by-Chance. I knew you would!”
Before Isabella could protest, her father hurried across, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up. He flung his arms around her. Isabella tottered on her heels and Sebastian grabbed for her hand.
“Oh, Bella. Well done,” her father said as he hugged her. “I’m so proud of you. In the final, you are!”