The Perfect Gift

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The Perfect Gift Page 9

by Mark Stewart


  THE FOG consumed the plane, motoring down the runway. The buildings changed to a blur. The airport’s control tower came and went. It resembled a tall structure straight out of a disaster movie. Naomi still couldn’t see a single light anywhere or a friendly wave by someone who came to watch the plane take off.

  Naomi stared into the white void hoping to be the first one to see the arrival of another plane. She glanced at Trent who looked to be concentrating. She watched him volley his gaze between the fog and the tarmac several times. The plane tilted upwards. The white void quickly turned wet. The moisture thickened the higher the plane ascended. Finally, the fog started to disperse at the three-thousand-foot mark.

  At five thousand feet Trent leveled the plane.

  Naomi craned her neck to look out the window. She saw a blanket of white below them. The sky in front of the plane looked to be an expanse of pale blue.

  “I have a couple of questions?” she asked.

  Trent sent her a cursory glance before re-focusing on the sky ahead. “I’m listening.”

  “Did you ever consider waiting for the control tower to give permission to take off?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me, did you contemplate any danger in taking off in the fog?”

  Trent didn’t answer. He remained preoccupied at studying the plane’s compass. He slowly moved the wheel forcing the plane to sweep gently to the left before leveling. He reached out to switch on the autopilot. Facing Naomi, he looked deep into her green eyes.

  “I made a calculated accent.”

  “Calculated?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were guessing, hoping we didn’t crash into another plane?”

  “Not exactly,” Trent replied.

  “Explain it to me,” Naomi growled. She folded her arms to relay a message she wasn’t happy. It entered her mind how this so-called expert pilot could be so blasé about their lives.

  “I talked to the control tower yesterday morning after landing. They informed me of the weather. They said there might an excellent chance of fog by 5:00am. They also informed me no planes were due to arrive at the airport before 8:00 this morning. They added the tower won’t be manned before 7:00am. To answer your question, my calculated risk had been extremely low.”

  “So why did we have to rush to get air-born?”

  “It’s raining where we are going.”

  “I’m not scared of a little rain, are you?”

  “No, I’m not scared either.” Trent backed up his short sentence with a sharp chuckle.

  “You’re a mysterious person,” moaned Naomi.

  “I want to keep a low profile,” replied Trent.

  “You don’t talk much either.”

  “I only talk when I’ve something important to say.”

  “You love the idea that I know nothing about you.”

  “I sure do,” blurted Trent.

  “I’m asking you to let me into your world.”

  “Why?”

  Fantasy thoughts were tumbling through Naomi’s mind as if they were in a washing machine. She suddenly realized she regretted the bet they made. It could have at least waited until tomorrow.

  “What on earth are you thinking about now?” asked Trent, grinning at the woman’s faraway expression.

  “My thoughts are private. They certainly don’t concern you unless you tell me about yourself.”

  “I’ll pass,” replied Trent.

  Naomi stared out of the window on her side of the plane flabbergasted at seeing the land underneath them. Turning away she focused on Trent.

  “I’ll always be amazed at how big Australia is,” she commented. She felt surprised Trent didn’t show any interest in the surrounding view or an ounce of concern at the approaching rain. “How long before we arrive at this Oasis place?”

  “Three and a half hours.”

  “Do we have enough fuel?”

  “Yes. We’ll make it by a good twenty minutes.”

  Naomi nodded, agreeing the information sounded correct.

  “Now might be a great time to get to know one another.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Yes.”

  Trent raised an eyebrow. “Ever seen morning glory at five thousand feet?”

  “I’ve never heard of the name.”

  Naomi felt torn between attacking him due to his handsome looks and accusing him of deception. How could she even contemplate a relationship with the man? He certainly didn’t come across as the relationship lasting type. He never did prove Stanton lived at the Oasis or even if they were flying in the right direction. For all, she knew he could be taking her for a ride on a one-way ticket to nowhere.

  The word nowhere kept replaying over and over in her mind.

  Minutes slowly ticked off. Naomi felt stupid. She knew nothing about Trent, yet here she sat, in a plane, shoulder to shoulder, totally trusting a stranger. She started to grow suspicious of the man. Could this be a trap to lure females into a place where the only way out was to jump. She looked out the small plane’s window trembling at the five-thousand-foot drop.

  “You’re not planning to jump?” asked Trent.

  Naomi wiped her stare from the window. How could he have known what she’d been thinking?

  “The thought never entered my mind. Is there a reason why you asked?”

  Trent shrugged his shoulder. “If you look due east you’ll see golden edged clouds. The phenomenon was given a name.”

  “Morning glory?” guessed Naomi.

  “It’s a beautiful sight,” he said.

  Gluing her gaze on Trent, Naomi used her peripheral vision to look. How could she have gotten into the plane? At least sitting in a car, she could jump out. She started to wonder if this man who calls himself Trent could be on the level.

  Trent reached out, grabbing her knee.

  Naomi screamed, jumping in her seat. This was the moment she dreaded. This is a game where she’s the prize. She’d made it too easy for him. How could she be so naive?

  “Leave me alone,” she growled.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Naomi squirmed in the seat. She tried to lean towards the window, but her seat belt forced her to stay exactly where she sat.

  “I won’t bite. I’m only after your attention.”

  “I bet you were.”

  Trent shook his head. “You were looking towards the North. You have to look in an easterly direction if you want to enjoy morning glory,” he whimpered.

  “You’re playing a game at my expense, aren’t you? I believe you’re enjoying every minute of it. The only thing you want to do is take advantage of me.”

  “Pardon?” asked Trent, a puzzled expression etched on his face.

  “Don’t Pardon me, mister.”

  “I do find you easy on the eyes.”

  “You’re only buttering me up so you can win the bet.”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth. If you want to see morning glory, look now.”

  Trent pointed out his side of the window. Naomi looked down his finger. Her mouth fell open at what she saw. Gold edged white clouds dotted the sky.

  As the plane slowly climbed Naomi watched the clouds disperse before her eyes leaving a green haze in the sky.

  “I don’t understand the colour,” she whispered, almost breathless.

  “The green haze is evaporating water,” explained Trent. “You see it a lot out here.” He leaned close to Naomi, placing his strong hand on her knee. “Miss Fitzgerald, I’m not a bad person. You can trust me.”

  ‘How can I trust you?’ she thought. ‘I’ve been emotionally scarred by Bill and Brandt. He’d been the biggest liar of the two men. He only wanted me for his advertising campaigns or to be used as his puppet. Now I feel that I’m being pushed your way. How can I trust you when you’re not prepared to answer any of my personal questions? What are you hiding?’

  Naomi’s mind and body ach
ed for the man sitting shoulder to shoulder next to her. If nothing else she felt, clear on the fact she must win the bet no matter what. To win, she needed to squash any feelings she felt for the man. Somehow, she must protect her heart from ever being hurt again. She couldn’t stand going down the heartache Boulevard for the third time.

  The plane leveled at five and a half thousand feet. Stretched out before them was a flat desert like land.

  “Australia sure is a large country,” mumbled Naomi. She was looking at the ground through a clear section of sky. “How does anyone survive out here?”

  “Even though the land looks barren, you can survive. Soon you’ll discover the Oasis is perfect.”

  “Tell me about the Oasis.”

  Trent’s face showed a distant look. “She’s beautiful, full of life. She’s such a magnificent place to live.”

  “Out here where nothing seems alive. I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Want to pilot the plane?”

  “You love changing the subject,” stated Naomi, fidgeting in her excitement.

  “I’m a shy person.”

  “You’re a man who is full of mysteries,” cut in Naomi.

  “Are you ready for a flying lesson?”

  “Yes, I am. Before you begin to teach me, tell me something about yourself?”

  “Why should I, you’re only here for two weeks, what’s the point?”

  Naomi turned her head to look out of the window. Now she knew his secret. He felt lonely. Why lose your heart to anyone who came into your life for only two-weeks. She turned from the window and looked at Trent in the eyes.

  “I’m ready to take the controls,” she screeched abruptly.

  “Use two hands.”

  Naomi held the wheel on her side of the plane in a death grip.

  “The plane’s yours.” Trent tapped her white knuckles. “Stay relaxed. No need to strangle the wheel.”

  “You’re a bit testy.”

  “Sorry.”

  Naomi relaxed a little. She straightened her back by sitting deeper into the seat.

  Trent relinquished control, retracting his hands. “There you go. You are now flying the plane.”

  “This isn’t so hard.”

  Trent pushed his seat back, lifted his feet, letting them rest on the door handle before closing his eyes.

  “What are you doing?” Naomi’s words were a staggered scream.

  “Going to sleep,” he yawned.

  “You can’t. How can you trust me? What if something happens?”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “What happens if we arrive at the Oasis while you’re asleep?”

  Trent checked his watch and the fuel gauge. “We won’t need to start our decent for sixty-five minutes.” He closed his eyes, folding his arms.

  Naomi reached over, tapping him on the shoulder. Trent didn’t move. ‘Surely, he couldn’t fall asleep in seconds,’ she thought. Naomi tugged at his shirt sleeve. Her right hand moved forcing the plane’s wheel to rotate violently down. Her face took on a look of terror. She quickly corrected the wheel. Straightening her back Naomi gazed at the plane’s instruments. They were flying level, and the plane hadn’t changed direction. It didn’t tilt to the side or done anything except stay straight. She jerked the wheel to the left then to the right. The plane remained level.

  Naomi could feel her blood pressure rise. Her face turned the colour of beetroot the moment she yelled.

  “What have you done?”

  Keeping his eyes closed, Trent chuckled.

  “I thought you told me I could fly the plane.”

  “Are you always this feisty?”

  “Men, I dislike the lot of you,” Naomi growled, screwing up her nose.

  “All?”

  She craned her neck, thrusting a fist at Trent’s friendly face. “Yes, all.”

  He chuckled again, reached out his hand, kissing her white knuckles.

  “Don’t,” Naomi squealed.

  “Why not?” asked Trent.

  “I don’t like it,” she snarled.

  “Do you want to enlighten me?”

  “No. Drop the subject,” she jeered.

  Trent grinned at Naomi’s crimson face. “The plane is on autopilot,” he confessed.

  “It’s not a laughing matter. You’re acting like a complete jerk.”

  Trent lowered his gaze, his grin vanishing quickly.

  “I’m sorry. If you smile, I’ll take the plane off auto. You can have a real fly.”

  “How do I know you won’t try to trick me? I’m not into tricks.”

  “What are you in for?”

  “I’m not sure if I should say.”

  Trent flashed a puppy dog look at Naomi.

  “Okay,” she chuckled. “I’m into watching romantic movies while sitting by an open fire.”

  “Don’t all women think the same?”

  “Maybe,” whispered Naomi.

  “What’s your favorite dream?” asked Trent.

  “Dream?” echoed Naomi.

  “Where do you see yourself in ten, twenty years from now?”

  Naomi exhaled a huge sigh.

  “My dream is to meet a man who is honest. He needs to love me for me. After making love under the stars, I want to fall asleep in his arms. I hope my dream comes true before I’ve aged ten years.” Discovering her one opportunity, she decided it might be time to dig Trent’s thoughts out of his mind. “What about you? What’s your biggest dream?”

  Trent looked out of the plane’s window. His faraway look made Naomi squirm in her seat.

  “I want to meet a lovely lady whom I can spend the remainder of my life with. I also want to find a way to save the Oasis.”

  “You won’t meet too many ladies out in the middle of Australia.”

  “I’ve met a few. They come out from the big smoke from time to time.”

  Feeling devastated, Naomi looked away. She wanted to be the lady of Trent’s dreams however she could never contemplate moving out to the bush. How could she expect Trent to move to the city? Her lungs deflated causing her shoulders to slump.

  “Could you ever consent in moving to the city?” she questioned.

  “I’d never leave the Oasis.”

  Trent’s voice sounded adamant. For a few uncomfortable moments, the only noise in the plane came from the engines.

  “If I have to go to the big smoke to find my partner, I will,” he added.

  Naomi saw him looking at her. Could he be playing games again? Stringing her along, or could he be on the level? She felt a smile forming on her face. Maybe there’s a flicker of hope, a small flame which if given a chance to grow could turn into a raging fire. To hide her grin, she looked away.

  Trent’s hand brushed against Naomi’s knee when he leaned sideways. This time, she didn’t utter a word.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready for what?” asked Naomi.

  “To fly the plane,” Trent stated. He flicked the autopilot’s toggle switch to the off position, whispering. “You have the controls.”

  Naomi moved the wheel slightly to the right. She squealed in delight as the plane started to bank. She quickly brought the plane back to level, glancing at Trent. “This is a wonderful feeling. I didn’t know flying a plane could be so enjoyable. Thank you for the privilege.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The radio crackled to life in their headsets. Trent flicked another toggle switch enabling the voice to boom in Naomi’s ears.

  “Oasis to Victor Charlie Foxtrot, Four, do you copy?”

  Trent raised a handheld mike to his mouth, winking at Naomi.

  “Victor Charlie Foxtrot Four to Oasis, I hear you, crystal clear. What’s the problem, over?”

  “What’s your ETA? Have you more than one package, over.”

  “I’ve only the one package. I’ll be landing in forty-seven minutes; over.”

  In the long pause, Naomi watched Trent staring at an imaginative fixed object directly ahead of t
he plane at the horizon. His eyebrows slowly angled to a point.

  Naomi leaned slightly towards him causing the plane to change direction two degrees. “What’s the problem?” she whispered, quickly bringing the plane back to level.

  Trent hunched his shoulders, giving her a blank stare. Reaching out, he flicked the toggle switch back to autopilot.

  Naomi hid her disappointment. Trent is not just handsome, she thought. He certainly knew his way around the cockpit of this plane. She allowed her shoulders to slouch, thankful to be able to relax. Her shoulders were starting to stiffen. Watching Trent looking out of the side window again studying the landscape Naomi noted his eyes were wide. She followed his gaze wondering what might have spooked him.

  At first, she saw only white clouds dotting the sky. She failed to notice the white clouds were quickly joining to form a solid front. In seconds, the white front started to change to black.

  “Have to get moving,” barked Trent.

  He leaned forward, turning the autopilot off. He wrapped his strong stubby fingers around the plane’s throttle, pushing the lever to its stop.

  Naomi heard the plane’s twin engines rev to an almost fever pitch.

  “Oasis to Victor Charlie Foxtrot, Four,” came the same male voice through both their headsets. “Move your arse. It’s raining buckets over the Oasis. You’ve got forty minutes to bed the plane.”

  “The throttle is already fully open,” reported Trent, through the radio.

  “Son, you might have to make the package push, over and out.”

  Trent chuckled for the first time in five minutes.

  “What does the voice mean you have to bed the plane? What’s this, son statement?”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” advised Trent, ignoring her questions.

  “Are we running out of time? Are we late for dinner or something? Is our fuel low?”

  “No. Dinner might be late if we don’t hurry.”

  “You’re not making any sense. I thought you, outback people weren’t afraid of anything. Surely you’re not scared of water falling from the sky?”

  “The voice over the radio belongs to Mr. Stanton. He informed me we need to hurry.”

  “I take it I’m the only package?”

  “Yes, you are, and I’m not about to make you push.”

  “You’re a smart mouth jerk. Does the voice over the radio belong to the Stanton I’m supposed to meet?” Naomi asked, watching his grin widen. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re Stanton’s son?”

  “I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Every time I meet a woman, especially a beautiful one, they start behaving like someone they’re not.”

  “Other ladies?” questioned Naomi. She frowned at the jealous feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. For all, she knew Trent might only be an outback clown in a rodeo who could fly a plane. She hurriedly pushed the thought from her mind.

  “There’s the echo again,” mentioned Trent.

  “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “My father, Earl Stanton is a well-known business man. He’s into cows. He has the best breeding stock in Australia. There’s also a rumor floating around there’s gold under the ground the Oasis sits on. He’s been visited by many well-known celebrities over the years. Every one of them said they’d buy the place. Dad has never agreed. He never will.”

  “Who started the rumor?”

  “My great grandfather,” explained Trent.

  “Is there any gold under the ground?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so.”

  “What about the other ladies you spoke of?”

  “I think I hear a slight case of jealousy in your voice.”

  “You can’t have, I don’t know you well enough.”

  Trent put his hands up. “Okay. In case there is, you deserve to know more about me.”

  “Finally,” whispered Naomi. “I didn’t want to win the bet we made by default.”

  The plane suddenly dived before swaying from side to side.

  Naomi screamed. Her hands gripped the arms of the co-pilot’s chair in a death grip. She screamed again.

  “We’re okay,” comforted Trent, leveling the plane at the fifteen-hundred-foot mark. He slowly descended a further five hundred feet.

  “How can you stay calm, we nearly crashed!”

  “We were never in danger. We flew through some turbulence. By the look of the sky, it’s already raining this side of the Oasis.”

  Trembling from head to feet, Naomi rolled her eyes. She squinted in the bright sunlight, studying the sky.

  “There’s not a cloud in the sky out my window,” she stated.

  Trent tapped her shoulder. She jumped, whirling around to face him.

  “See the band of grey clouds directly ahead, near the horizon?” His voice sounded friendly, yet full of authority.

  Naomi squinted against the bright sun streaming through the window. She hid her skepticism.

  “If you scan the horizon to my left you’ll see a solid mass of midnight black clouds,” reported Trent.

  “I saw them before. The clouds don’t seem much of a threat seeing how they aren’t directly in front of the plane.”

  The plane changed direction seven degrees to the left before starting to descend. Naomi’s eyes widened, staring at the black mass approaching, now directly in front.

  “Tell me you’re only trying to scare me?”

  “I’m not that cruel. They’re bad storm clouds,” advised Trent.

  Naomi choked on her words. “Why did you change direction?”

  “The Oasis is to our left, exactly where the clouds are the darkest.”

  “Will there be lightning?”

  Trent nodded just before he made the plane dive towards the ground.

  “We’re almost there. The wind is picking up. In three minutes, we’ll be standing on the ground.”

  Naomi managed a wintry day smile, watching the clouds loom closer. The black swirling mass looked to be moving incredibly fast. The clouds resembled giant charcoal coloured cotton balls which were dipped in black ink and hung low in the sky. Lightning lit the shortened horizon. Visibility started to plummet. She felt like a tiny insect that could be easily squashed at any time.

  Clutching her seat, Naomi swallowed the lump in her throat. She watched the ground coming up to greet them. What should have been inviting; looked desolate. Every tree appeared dead. The wind swept the ground at speed. Naomi marveled at the dust storm about to swallow the plane.

  Trent flew low over a large square shaped dam before lining the plane up perfectly to the middle of a dirt road. Weeds grew right up to its edge. Large dry balls of bracken tumbled across their path in the strengthening wind.

  “I hope you’re up for some hard work?” questioned Trent.

  “Yes, of course,” replied Naomi, squaring her shoulders.

  The plane bounced a few times on the hardened clay road before Trent steered towards a blue weatherboard house. The thought of giving up, allowing Trent to win the bet flashed into Naomi’s consciousness. She didn’t have enough time to gather her wits before Trent opened the plane’s door, yelling over the noise of the wind, encouraging her to hurry.

  The plane had stopped not more than thirty feet from an old two-room cottage. Naomi scrunched her nose at the broken steps leading up to the main door. Someone tried unsuccessfully to fix a wooden board in front of the broken glass panel. Glancing at Trent, Naomi wondered why he had let the Oasis fall apart, seeing how he confessed how much he adored the place. She didn’t understand why he thought the Oasis was perfect.

  Naomi decided bush folk and city people thought differently on what were sustainable lodgings.

  ‘Oasis, home sweet home,’ she thought. ‘If anyone could live in this place, out here in the middle of, who knows where she could.’

  She jumped from the plane, digging her heels into a dried weed. She felt determined the adventure will be nothing more than a two-week working holid
ay. Glancing at Trent she wondered if he could live in the city, ‘big smoke’ as he put it, or could he be stringing her along so that he’d win the bet. The bet she would make certain she won.

  Naomi clapped her hands together, walking towards the front door of the house. Overhead the black clouds billowed. The first thunderclap rumbled above the wind.

  “Where are you off to?” called Trent over the wind.

  “Inside, I don’t want to get wet. Looking at the state of the house, it’ll take hours to plug each hole,” advised Naomi. She stood on the first rotten wooden step looking over her shoulder at the man staring at her.

  “There’s no time; we have too much work to do outside.”

  “I bet there’s more work to be done on the inside. The house probably hasn’t felt a woman’s touch in fifty years.”

  Trent chuckled before breaking into a deep belly laugh.

  Naomi was fuming at being laughed at. She marched back to the plane.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I can tell you think this place is the Oasis.”

  The deep pitch of Trent’s voice sounded calming. He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a caring whispered laugh.

  His hard-callous hand sent electricity throughout Naomi’s body. Glancing at the house, she began to doubt if the dwelling could even be fit to live in.

  “If this place isn’t the Oasis, where are we?” she questioned.

  Trent stopped laughing, looking seriously into Naomi’s green eyes.

  “This land is part of the Oasis. Where we live is fifty miles further on. We needed to land here to check the fences of the property, the water pump and drop off some food for the hungry gang when they arrive.”

  “Hungry gang out here?” Naomi craned her neck trying to see through the swirling dust. “I don’t see anything or anyone?”

  “Come, I’ll show you around the place while we start our check.”

  “Shouldn’t you close the plane’s cargo door?” questioned Naomi. “I don’t want to see you get upset when sand or rain pours in.”

  Trent looked back at the plane. “It’ll be okay, the door’s facing away from the wind.”

  Naomi walked next to Trent. He seemed oblivious to the wind slamming grains of dirt into their exposed arms and face. Using her hands to cover her eyes to help shield against the flying dust, Naomi struggled to keep up.

  “In seven days, the five acres before us will be full of cattle,” explained Trent, waving a palmed hand at the windswept clay. “One hundred cows to be exact. The trucks will roll up and the cattle will be loaded. We’ll sprint for the Oasis to bring the next one hundred cows. We’ll keep doing it till every cow has gone.” Trent changed direction, power walking towards the dam.

  “It sounds like you’re getting rid of all your cows?” puffed Naomi, trotting just to keep up.

  “We are.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve already mentioned my family is in a tight financial spot. It’s why my father needs an extra hand for the next two weeks. He hoped to have five blokes turn up at the airport.”

  Naomi stopped to stare at the back of Trent’s head. Tears welled up in her eyes. She bore the resemblance of a woman who’d suddenly been overtaken by grief. For the first time, she thought everything she’d gone through might have been on the level. In the sudden lull in the wind, she sprinted to catch up.

  Before Trent could take another step a rogue gust of wind hit him square in his face. He lost his balance and fell into Naomi. They both wrapped their arms around the other to stop the wind from pushing them into the dirt. For a long moment, they stood there, in the wind, staring into each other’s eyes. Trent leaned his face close. Naomi copied, tilting her head. His warm breath swept her cheeks, fanned by the wind. Their bear hug tightened.

  “This is a strange place to start a romance,” she whispered.

  Trent raised his eyebrows. Their lips brushed. Naomi closed her eyes, wanting to melt into the moment.

  The surging wind pushed both of them off their feet. Naomi fell backwards. She closed her eyes waiting to feel the hard ground. She felt no pain when she heard the dull thud. Opening her eyes, she saw Trent’s grotesque face. He’d managed to twist underneath to cushion her fall.

  “Are you okay?” she questioned.

  “I’ll be fine if you kiss me.”

  Naomi lifted her torso off him only to be pulled back down. She felt a prisoner in his strong arms. He lifted his head. Naomi dropped hers. Right in the middle of a storm, in the middle of the Australian outback, miles from anywhere, she felt something amazing starting to happen.

  Lightning pierced the charcoal coloured sky directly above their heads. The deep thunderclap lagged behind by only a few seconds. Naomi didn’t care. Love started to germinate. She wanted time to speed up so the urges she felt might quickly grow.

  “You only want to win the bet.”

  She had said the words to start to test his honesty. She needed to discover his secrets long before love could even begin to grow. She wanted to be fully persuaded before being committed, yet again. The missing fact must be the perfect gift. If Trent couldn’t discover the meaning, she knew love could never stand a chance.

  “Forget the bet,” whispered Trent. “I surrender.”

  “I’m not sure you’re too convincing.”

  Trent pushed Naomi off and gently lowered her to the ground. He stood, holding out his hand.

  “It’s urgent we start work,” he said.

  Naomi exhaled away her disappointment knowing full well the moment was gone. She wondered if the way she felt could be a mistake. She reached out to allow Trent to pull her to her feet. Almost immediately the wind tried to knock her over. She lost balance, tightening her grip. Trent leaned into the wind, pulling hard. Instantly she fell back into his outstretched arms. The electricity arcing between them felt hard to resist. Surely Trent felt it too? In her mind, Naomi cursed the stupid childish bet they’d made. It seemed to be getting in the way causing a stumbling block between them.

  The strengthening wind swirled around them forcing their bodies to move closer. The thin splinter width of light between them abruptly vanished.

  Naomi gagged on the dust in her mouth. “Trent, about our bet,” she started.

  “You want to back out? Renegotiate?”

  This was an awkward time and certainly the wrong place to bring up the subject. One of them must be brave enough to be the first to say. Naomi must be strong for the seed of love to grow. Kaite’s father used to say the same thing. Be brave she heard him say over and over. To let a shy person, know how you feel you must be brave. Take the initiative. Be first. The worse thing they might say is no. Naomi cleared her dry throat by swallowing a few grains of dirt.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  Trent looked at the sky, shaking his head. “The storm isn’t about to wait. We can talk later.”

  “I have something I need to say.”

  “It’ll have to wait. The storm is approaching fast. We don’t have much time.”

  Naomi watched him walk off into the wind. She felt how she looked, devastated. He’d conveyed the answer to her question on how he may feel about a long-term relationship. Who was she kidding? She came to the outback wanting to forget about men and how much they hurt her, and here she stood making, goo-gah eyes at a man she barely knew hoping he might be Mr. Right. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Fortunately, she discovered quickly he’s definitely Mr. Wrong.

  Naomi yelled into the wind. “Trent, you can take your good looks, your masculinity and go back to your cows. In two weeks, I’m out of here.”

  “Did you say something?” he called from the edge of her sight.

  Naomi marched up to him, raising her fist. “Men,” she bellowed.

  Trent didn’t understand her comment. Grabbing her hand, he shrugged.

  Together they struggled against the wind in silence. Naomi fumed on the inside. She certainly didn’t care less about anything Trent might wan
t to say. Showing her around this God forsaken outback place concreted her thoughts into leaving in two weeks. Not once will she ever give Trent a second thought.

  “Workaholic,” she whispered behind his back.

  The area comprised of dirt and dried weeds. To their left on top of a small rise, a windmill whirled around in the wind, pumping water into the dam. Overhead, a circling eagle flew away.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “The Oasis, is it like this place?” Naomi yelled.

  Trent reached out his hand, patting an escaping curl on the side of her head.

  “Don’t,” she ordered, pushing his hand away. “It’s a bad hair day, and...”

  “What?” he asked.

  Naomi lowered her gaze to her feet so she could stare at the dirt. “I want out of the bet,” she blurted. Her shoulders sagged slightly when she heard the words she’d only been thinking. They sounded dry, almost hostile. She suddenly wanted to run away. She didn’t want to hear Trent’s remarks to her request. Besides, making a bet with a stranger is totally stupid.

  Trent lifted his hand to pat the rogue curl again.

  Naomi stiffened at his gentle touch. She felt torn between pushing his hand away again and smiling at his thoughtfulness.

  “I love your wind-blown locks,” he whispered. “I love the way your long hair will cascade over your shoulders and glisten in the sun if it weren’t tied back.” He reached out to pull at Naomi’s hair tie, allowing her hair to fall. “See, I knew it.”

  Naomi watched his eyes soaking up the look as her hair fell over her shoulders. She rudely pushed his hand away. The look he gave her betrayed how he felt. She wondered how he could be so callous if he weren’t at least interested in her. Reaching up, she slipped her fingers through his black hair, pulling him in close. Trent squinted as she felt warm liquid ooze over her fingers.

  “You’re bleeding,” she wailed, pulling her hand away.

  Trent grabbed her hand. He gently closed her fingers one at a time. Bowing his head, he kissed her knuckles.

  “It’s okay. I’m tough.”

  “You’re hurt. You have to let me take a look.”

  “Later.”

  Trent and Naomi cringed when lightning lit the sky. A deep rumble soon followed.

  “Why are you so stubborn?”

  “There’s no time. We have to be going. Besides, I think you’re trying to put me off guard about the bet.”

  “Is this your plan? Get me off guard, so I’ll surrender making you win the bet?”

  Taking a step back, Naomi frowned. ‘Don’t you dare look hurt,’ she screamed inwardly. ‘I’m here for two weeks. The moment I win the bet I’m going back to the city, to my office, to my desk and when I get home, I’m going to forget you and this desolate place. How dare you look at me through big seductive eyes? I’ve seen the same look too many times before. I totally gave my heart to Brandt. He tore it in half.’

  Turning on her toes, Naomi marched off towards the plane.

  When Trent caught up, he grabbed her by the arm. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

  “Don’t, you have work to do?” she hinted, pulling her hand away.

  “Yes, we do.” Trent stepped to the cargo plane’s door and started unloading the plane. Looking up, he said. “I need you to help.”

  Naomi stood square to her employer in silence.

  Together they finished unloading the plane in five or so minutes.

  The wind speed seemed to be increasing towards cyclone strength. Naomi felt the first drops of rain on her bare arms. She couldn’t believe the sky could get any darker.

  A lightning bolt hit the ground not far from the plane. Following close behind came the familiar deep low rumble. Naomi’s eyes widened. She felt a tingle travel down her spine from the warmth of the lightning bolt. She let go of a loud scream.

  “Apology accepted,” she puffed, wiping the sweat from her face. “Do we have to spend a lot more time out in this storm?”

  “Come on,” said Trent. “If we hurry we’ll be inside the house before the rain turns into a downpour.”

  “Hurry to do what?”

  “We have to walk the fence line.”

  “Why, it’s about to rain?

  Following Trent, Naomi believed it might be an initiation test.

  The next rumble of thunder nearly deafened her.

  Trent looked at the dark swirling clouds overhead. “I agree with your idea. It’s about to rain. We have to move faster. The quicker we check the fence the sooner-.”

  His remainder of his words was blown away in the wind.

  Trent forced Naomi to stop every few minutes. He taught her what to look for when she tugged on the fence wire. Naomi studied the landscape, watching the wind sweeping across the dust dry topsoil at full tilt. The few weeds managing to survive in the dry conditions were bending, almost touching the ground. The airborne soil stung her face, burying grains of clay in her hair. A large drop of rain fell on the bridge of her nose.

  Naomi looked to the heavens. A drop of water hit between her eyes. “Trent, it’s starting to rain.”

  He looked skywards, grabbing her hand “We’ve no time to waste.”

  Naomi felt tired walking in the gale force wind and wanted to pull her hand away from Trent’s strong grip. Hearing the reverberating throb of the windmill whirring around she decided Trent could drag her along. The water being pumped up out of the ground looked to have already half-filled the dam. The wind started to wobble the wire fence creating a high-pitched howl. Naomi looked back at the shrinking house through slits. She spat dirt. Cupping a hand around her mouth, she yelled over the noise of the wind.

  “I think the storm’s going to beat us to the finish line. Do you want to stop to check the rest of the fence tomorrow?”

  “No,” Trent yelled back. “We can check the wire fence while we jog.”

  Naomi watched his shrinking form. “Easy for you to say,” she groaned, starting to trot.

  The wind lashed her jeans, forcing her to walk time and again. In seconds, she could barely make out Trent’s image through the swirling dust. She watched him stop, pull at the fence before running off again. Naomi stumbled over a weed, falling face first into the dirt. She groped for the fence and grimaced in pain. She felt warm red liquid trickling along her arm. Staggering to her feet, she looked up hoping Trent saw her fall. Swirling dust is the only thing she could see.

  Double lightning bolts lit the sky.

  “The sun’s long gone,” Naomi mumbled, starting to count the seconds waiting for the thunder. “Three. The storm is only three or so kilometers away.”

  Naomi watched lightning split the sky above her head. Again, the thunder boomed. She hugged the ground when the next round of lightning hit a dead tree about forty metres from the windmill.

  “Two kilometers,” she rasped, counting the seconds again.

  Naomi felt defeated. She knelt in the middle of the dry outback paddock and started to cry. Her tears created dirty streaks over her cheeks. Slowly she lifted her head, searching the land. Through her tears, half closed eyes, rain, and dust, Naomi called for her knight in shiny armor.

  “Trent, please come back.”

  In the fading light, the only thing she could see was dirt blowing through the air and the only thing she heard happened to be the wind lashing harder against her shirt. Dust stung every part of her exposed skin. Naomi tilted her head back so she could look at the ink coloured clouds. Was it her imagination or did the thunder sound unbelievably louder. She felt so exhausted she couldn’t be sure. Forked lightning again brightened the sky. The desert landscape resembled a picture out of a disaster movie. The dry dust covered land looked to be fast turning into mud.

  “Welcome to the desert,” she mumbled. Dirt instantly filled her mouth. Her hair flapped behind her like a flag in a storm. Puddles of water were starting to flow together to form small creeks which were gaining momentum as the rain changed to a torrential downpour.


  Forked lightning and thunderclaps rolled together. Naomi lifted her hand. She saw blood pouring from the second hole in her arm. A piece of barbed wire had broken off and found a new home in her skin. She yanked the rusty metal splinter out, throwing it to the ground just as Lightning split a tree in half fifty metres to her right. Using her arms, she covered her head as the tree crashed to the ground. The heavens rumbled; the earth shook under her feet.

  Staggering onwards Naomi felt determined to catch Trent to give him a round of verbal diarrhea. She fumed at each step she took. A single questioned haunted her mind.

  ‘Why did he abandon her?’

  Naomi could barely see through the torrent of rain. She groped for the wire fence hoping her arms might help her feet to move.

  At last, her fingers felt the corner fence post. She quickly changed direction. The wind no longer brushed against her face. Instead, it pushed her sideways away from the fence, towards the huge dam in the middle of the landscape. No matter which way she looked at it if she clung to the fence the dam shouldn’t be a problem.

  “I’d certainly drown if I fell into the water,” she mumbled, her body convulsing at the thought.

  Naomi pulled her hair from her mouth, pressing on. The small victory of changing directions gave her a renewed confidence. She groaned heavily trying to pick up her slow pace.

  She’d only walked twenty-seven small steps before she started to feel tired again. Naomi stopped to wipe the blood from her fingers, managing to scrunch her last tissue over the cut. Over the sound of the wind, she thought she heard a familiar noise. Shielding her eyes using bloody hands she scanned the land searching for what made the noise. The dust was gone, made heavy by the rain. At the edge of her vision, she spied a small light. It seemed to be heading her way. She tried to walk towards it. The mud under her feet made stepping almost impossible.

  “This is worse than ice-skating,” she groaned.

  Naomi felt beyond exhaustion. Any warm feelings she felt for Trent were reversed to total anger over being abandoned. Standing in the rain half bent, bleeding from her hand, she started to cry again.

  The light came steadily closer. It seemed relentless in its quest to run her down. Naomi squared her shoulders. Her dust caked eyelids strained to stay open, forcing her to squint. Though exhausted from head to feet, she stared at the light. It travelled at speed a metre off the ground. She gave a rock near her foot a cursory glance. Stooping, she picked it up. Her long, wet fingers curled around its jagged surface. Taking careful aim, Naomi hurled the rock through the air. When she heard a thud, she frantically searched for another.

  The small bouncing light never waived from its path.

  Naomi’s long hair flapped wet, muddy strands in her eyes. Her new jeans and shirt were soaked.

  The next rock she unearthed felt heavier. She lifted her arm, concentrating on the perfect throw, waiting patiently for the light to come closer.

  The light eventually came to a stop a few metres from her. Naomi dropped the rock at her feet. The familiar chug, chug, chug glued a weary smile to her face. She felt too tired to know whether to scream, shout, or kiss Trent. Standing in the middle of a storm, soaked to the skin looking at a grinning man on a motorbike was too good to refuse. Her verbal diarrhea could wait for later.

  “I believe I’m going your way, care for a lift, Miss?”

  Naomi swung her leg over the seat, grabbing Trent around the waist. Through his rain-soaked shirt, she could feel his washboard abs. She hugged him tighter.

  The bike fishtailed along the fence line, back to the house. At full throttle Trent steered the bike into the huge steel shed, stopping at the last second. He killed the light and flicked the bike’s ignition switch to the off position.

  For a long moment, Naomi remained frozen on the back of the bike listening to the wind and the rain. Eventually the lightning and thunder melted her hands away from Trent’s waist. Slowly she stepped down from the bike.

  “Come on, let’s get inside the house. I’ll put the kettle on,” insisted Trent, producing a large brass key.

  They traipsed mud into the small back room not much bigger than a toilet cubicle. Trent closed the outer door blocking out the storm.

  For a few seconds, the silence sounded uncomfortable.

  Simultaneously Trent opened the inner door and stepped out of his muddy boots. He turned his head, holding out his hand.

  “Surrender your runners so we can go inside.”

  Naomi slipped out of her runners, handing them over. Trent placed them upside down on two waist-high poles, in the rain.

  “Don’t worry about them it won’t be long before they’re clean. I call the vertical poles the bush washing machine.”

  Naomi didn’t argue the point. She felt relieved to finally have the extra weight off her aching legs.

  Inside the house, she stood shocked at the neatness. No dust, no draft, no water on the floor.

  “Nothing except the best for the Stanton folk out here,” remarked Trent. “I know the house looks bad on the outside. I’ve worked hard to make it livable.”

  “You?” questioned Naomi, sending him a puzzled look.

  “Yes, my brother and I have worked in this place for six months. You should have seen it before we started. What a mess. My brother helped where he could.”

  “What about the broken window, the decayed front step?”

  “My brother fell through the window when the step broke last week. He fell off the ladder fixing the gutter too. He’s okay. It’s the reason why the glass is in the plane. I wanted to fix the window before we sold the place.” He gave Naomi a stern glance. “Our financial problems are not your concern.”

  Naomi watched Trent walk to the window to gaze out at the storm. Eventually, he spun on his toes. He walked across the room and entered the kitchen. In seconds, Naomi heard a generator start up.

  “Country living,” she mumbled. Slowly she walked around soaking her mind in the room’s décor. “What there is of it; a couple of wooden chairs and a half-broken wooden coffee table. The mantelpiece over the fireplace has seen better days, though the brick chimney still looks in mint condition.”

  Outside, the wind kept up its howling. Naomi looked through the window, spying her luggage sitting in the rain. She squealed.

  Trent came running. “What’s wrong?”

  “My dry clothes are in the bag. I must have dropped it when we were unloading the plane.”

  Trent sprinted out into the rain to rescue the wet bags. Back inside the room, he said confidently.

  “It’s okay. I’ll start a fire to dry some of your clothes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Trent trotted back into the kitchen. When he returned, he carried two steaming mugs of coffee. He sat Naomi in a chair and ordered her to rest.

  “Where were you? Why did you have to leave me alone in the rain?”

  “I thought the best thing to do was to sprint along the fence line back to the house. I knew where you were. I also knew you’d be safe until I returned. I apologize. If I didn’t insist you walk the fence line, you’d be drier than powder.”

  Trent took off his soaking muddy, wet shirt, walked to the front door, pulling it open. In a slick move, he flung it outside on top of another wooden pole.

  Naomi’s anger melted the moment her eyes feasted on his upper muscular torso.

  “Let me guess; the poles are your only means of washing?”

  “You’ve guessed it in one.”

  Leaving the room, Trent started to hum. On his return, he had an Esky in tow. After opening the plastic lid, he reached in and grabbed two bottles of beer.

  “Care to have one?”

  Naomi raised her hand. “No thanks.”

  Noticing her bloody hand, Trent reached out, turning her arm over.

  “It looks bad. I’ll fetch the first aid kit to do-a-bush patch up job.”

  Grinning at his caring expression, Naomi pushed deep into the chair. Every muscle in her body ache
d. Somehow, she must make sure Trent never found out how exhausted she felt. No matter what, she must keep up.

  Naomi closed her eyes, falling asleep in seconds.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NAOMI

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