by Mark Stewart
NAOMI QUICKLY dressed in dry, warm blue jeans and a black collar shirt. She slipped her feet into new white runners and walked into the kitchen.
Trent smiled the moment she entered the room. “Now you look the part of a Jillaroo.”
She faced him feeling slightly embarrassed.
“The way you look right now could easily melt any man,” advised Trent.
“What about the one I’m facing?”
“You sure do. I’ll go rustle up some grub.”
Naomi’s eyebrows angled to a point, wrinkling her brow. “Grub?” she questioned.
“If you want to fit in out here you have to call food, grub.”
“You don’t strike me as a man who knows his way around a kitchen.”
“If you’re trying to find out if I can cook, I’d rate myself less than average.”
“Maybe I should give you some lessons. Sit at the table and watch what I do.”
Trent watched Naomi dart around the room, from the stove to the pantry then back to the cupboard several times. She looked up at his bewildered face, giggling.
“How did you know what food to bring if you’re not good at cooking?”
“I was given a shopping list. I placed everything inside the plane before you arrived.”
“Who made the shopping list?”
“Gaile,” replied Trent.
“Who’s Gaile?”
“Do I hear a hint of jealousy in your voice?”
“No, why should there be? We’re not an item.”
“In that case, I don’t have to tell you who Gaile is.”
“Another secret,” mumbled Naomi.
An older man walked into the kitchen, announcing his arrival by saying. “I can smell food cookin’.”
Naomi studied the man. His long silver hair matched his beard. His torn jeans and muddy boots were, she thought a typical outback look. His blue button up shirt barely covered his massive beer gut.
“Roy Davey, I wondered when you’d show your face.” Trent reached out his hand.
The man’s cold hardened expression didn’t alter the whole time he was in the room.
“Trent, forget the handshake, I’m not in a good mood. I won’t stay long. I have a message for your father.”
“This is Naomi,” mentioned Trent, open palming a hand towards her.
“Nice to meet you, Miss.”
“It’s good to hear polite words.”
“I can tell you’re a city gal,” he blurted, nodding sharply.
“How?” questioned Naomi.
“You smell like city folk.”
“I’m sorry I don’t stink like a cow.”
“I say what I mean.”
“What’s the message?” asked Trent, folding his arms.
“The bank has made an offer to buy me place. It’s too good to refuse.”
“I thought you said you’d never sell.”
“I’m not selling. The bank’s given me seven days to walk off me land.”
Naomi studied the man from over the stirring of a boiling pot. His face showed no emotion, informing Trent of the terrible news. ‘Steel on the outside, a blubbering mess on the inside,’ she thought.
“I’m sorry to hear the news,” said Trent.
“If you want to buy me land, think up a good offer. Maybe we’ll do a deal. The contest is between you and the bank.”
“Six months ago, dad might have jumped at the chance for another 2000 acres; not now.”
“Why? I’ve offered you me land on a silver plate.”
“It’s the Tax office. They want to take our land too.”
Naomi’s brow wrinkled when she heard Trent’s confession. Her mind steamed harder than the contents of the boiling pot she’d been stirring. She wanted to know more. Up to date the only thing she knew about outback people; they believed land to be the most precious thing in the world. To make them sell seemed un-comprehensible.
“Anyways,” continued Davey. “Henry’s in the truck. We got to get going. We saw you landing the plane real fast. We came over to find out if you were okay. I’m pleased you’re safe. This storm’s a real kicker.”
“Thanks for showing you care.”
“I must confess I didn’t want to come over; me Mrs. ordered me.”
Trent nodded. Even though they sounded like they hated each other neither one seemed willing to be the first to back down so the other could have a niche.
‘Both stubborn as each other,’ thought Naomi. She wondered if something bad happened would either come running. The moment things returned to normal again she felt convinced they’d revert to disliking each other.
Davey studied Naomi from head to feet. He used his elbow to dig Trent in the ribs. “She’s a bit of all right for a city gal. I don’t usually give out any advice especially to you or your father. If I were you, I’d do everything I could to keep her by my side. Look after this one.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep the advice under my hat.”
“One more thing before I leave. I have to tell you Henry bumped the lid off the large box. When I walked past, it looked empty.”
“It’s okay; I’ll find Charlie later. He won’t have gone too far.”
Davey waved goodbye before running out into the rain.
Naomi thrust the plate of bacon and eggs at Trent. They both sat and ate hungrily. She watched the man watching her. She just couldn’t put her finger on the reason why she felt drawn to the man.
“The meal tasted great,” confessed Trent.
“I’m pleased you like it.” She watched him take his empty plate to the sink and start to wash it. ‘I’m going to find out the answers to my questions, Trent Stanton, if it’s the last thing I do,’ she thought inwardly.
Naomi’s thoughts tumbled over and over in her mind as she scraped the last morsel of food from her plate. Hunching her shoulders, she said with a sigh.
“Three o’clock in the afternoon and the sun looks as though it’s about to break through the clouds.”
Trent nodded in agreement.
“You didn’t look at the sky. Are you going to take my word for it?”
“I don’t need to believe you, I can tell.”
“How?” quizzed Naomi.
“The wind has dropped.”
Moments later the sun broke through the clouds. The water in the dam started to sparkle in the warming rays. Trent finished the dishes then walked across the room to the window to study the sky. He let a low whistle slip.
Naomi looked down his arm, following his gaze. She looked puzzled.
“What are you staring at?”
“The dam hasn’t been this full in years. Care for a swim?”
“No thanks,” answered Naomi, politely.
“Come on. A nice swim will do you a world of good.” He grabbed Naomi by the waist, lifting her into the air. “It’s going to be a stinker for the remainder of the day. You city girls need to unwind. The best medicine is swimming, outback style.”
Naomi kicked him in the shin. “Trent, no!” she shrieked.
“Do you always get your way, city girl?”
She shook her fist at his face. “Not always. I just want to be treated like a lady. Now put me down.”
“I understand,” whispered Trent, allowing Naomi’s feet to touch the floor.
Naomi placed her arm over the country boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for snapping. It has nothing to do with you; it’s me.”
“That’s a relief. I thought.”
“What?” Naomi asked. She leaned towards Tent, hoping not to miss even a single letter of a whispered confession.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Naomi bit her bottom lip, eyeballing the man. It’s another secret to add to her ever-increasing questions. Shaking her head, she looked directly into his eyes.
“If you walk me to the dam, I’ll try my hardest to swim.”
“Try? What’s there to try about?”
“Not everyone can swim.”
Trent focused
on Naomi’s frightened green eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you can’t swim?”
She lowered her gaze, focusing on the wood grain in the floorboards. She wanted to find a crack in a board so she could disappear.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded weak at best.
“I’m sorry for embarrassing you. I didn’t know.”
“I keep it a secret. Kaite, my best friend, is the only one who knows.”
“I promise I’ll never tell your secret to anyone.”
“There’s one more thing; I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“Due to the fact you can’t swim?” finished Trent. He reached and dragged her in close.
“Yes.” Naomi buried her head in his chest. She stood listening to the rhythm of his heart. It suddenly quickened.
“Come on; I have the perfect solution.” He led Naomi to a black overnight bag, unzipped the top and drove his hand deep inside.
Naomi’s giggles broke into laughter when he turned the bag upside down. She watched amused as Trent sifted through one pair of blue jeans, three shirts, one white, one black, one wet, muddy shirt and a blue open-neck shirt.
“I’ll wear the blue one,” suggested Naomi.
“Are you sure? Why don’t you wear a dry one?”
“Trent, the blue button up shirt is the only one long enough to cover. Besides, why wet another shirt?”
“I’ll meet you at the dam,” he quipped, walking off.
Naomi trotted down the hallway to the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and slipped into the wet shirt. The material felt cold and hung heavy from her shoulders. She pushed her feet into her damp runners and set off towards the dam.
The outback man is right, she surmised. Inside an hour, the humidity will be stifling. She caught a glimpse of Trent half way to the dam. Naomi quickly settled into a comfortable running style to catch up.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
“A black towel,” chuckled Trent.
“Are you wearing anything else?”
“Nothing,” he replied seriously.
Naomi swallowed her excitement at the uncertainty of what might transpire over the next hour. Reaching out she took hold of his hand. She watched him walking next to her using a sideways stare. Her heart pounded inside her chest. The closer they got to the dam the hotter she felt.
Trent didn’t bother to stop, to sum up the cold water. He threw his towel at a fence post and dived in. Naomi stood gob-smacked as her eyes feasted again on his ice cream cone shaped body. He surfaced near the middle of the dam, waving, beckoning her in. Naomi walked to the water’s edge. Stepping out of her runners her bare feet sunk into the mud. Trent dived. When he surfaced, he grabbed her ankles. Naomi squealed and flopped down into the mud.
“There’s nothing more invigorating than a cold mud bath,” growled Naomi, sarcastically.
“Come on in.”
“The mud feels horrible.”
Trent marched out of the water. He picked her up in an effortless sweep of an arm, carrying her into the water. He patiently showed Naomi freestyle then watched, showing genuine interest as she slowly increased her strokes.
“Naomi, I want to discuss the bet we made back at the airport.”
“I’m listening. What’s on your mind?”
“I want to call the bet null and void.”
“Is this a new way of winning?”
Trent looked directly into her eyes. His easy-going expression quickly faded.
“You win by default. At the first opportunity, I’ll give you that dance.”
Naomi went to shake his hand. “I’ll agree to your demands if you tell me more about yourself.”
Trent lifted his arms as if he had finally surrendered. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“Why do you carry the rope clipped to your belt, and I want to know why your family is about to lose the Oasis?”
“You are an extremely nosy person, Miss Fitzgerald.”
“I sure am.”
“I’ll spill the beans after you kiss me.”
Naomi shook her head suspiciously. She needed to keep her mind in check if she wanted to discover what made this country man tick. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
“You play a good game of poker,” taunted Trent.
“I have been known to.”
The man slipped back into waist deep water. “Come in; I won’t bite.”
“I feel safer back here.”
“Okay. I’ll have you know you forced me into it. I have a great idea, how about we get dressed so we can talk in a more comfortable place. You look a little on the cold side.” Trent swam to the edge of the dam. He walked up the muddy bank in full view.
Naomi lost her breath, watching the naked man wrap the towel around his narrow waist, marching off towards the house. She instinctively followed.
Trent looked already clean and was wearing shorts by the time Naomi closed in on the crude, effective outside shower. Two wine barrels were in a tree above head height. A twist of the wooden plug on the bottom of the barrel saw clean water flowing.
Naomi scrunched her nose. “Where’s the privacy?”
Trent glared at her. “If you want a shower, this is it.”
“I’ll use the one inside the house.”
Trent grabbed her by the arm to stop her from walking off.
“Let me go,” she insisted.
Trent pulled Naomi in close, tightening his grip.
“You’re hurting me.”
Naomi felt his breath brushing her cheeks. She could tell he wasn’t happy at having to tell his story. She shouldn’t expect him to say anything about his private life. She felt disappointed at pushing the point.
The moment Trent relaxed his grip Naomi stepped back, glad to have space between them.
“Oh, no you don’t city girl, nothing ever gets away from me,” boasted Trent.
“You’re a tease.”
Trent pulled her in close again. This time, Naomi leaned into the pull. Her action made them fall towards the mud. She heard a squelch. Trent groaned when his back hit the ground. Naomi came down hard on his chest. Both looked lovingly at the other. Trent blushed at seeing Naomi’s reddening face. Instead of pushing her off, Trent wrapped his arms around her. She felt imprisoned. Her brain started yelling to slap his smiling face while her heart seemed to be saying something totally different. She tossed into the mix her two opposite ideas.
Her heart won.
Naomi stopped struggling. She brought her hands forward, folding her arms across his chest.
“Is this where I apologize for being huffy and running off?”
“It’s a good start,” Naomi whispered.
“I’m at your mercy,” complained Trent. “You have me a shackled prisoner.”
“A big strong man like you, don’t make me laugh.”
“See I can’t move,” informed Trent, trying to wriggle his way out from underneath Naomi.
“You could easily throw me off using one hand.”
“Yes, I could quite easily accomplish the task,” advised Trent.
“I dare you to try.”
“I don’t want to show off.”
Snuggling in closer Naomi chuckled. Trent’s skin felt hard from his bulging taut muscles. On a sigh, she closed her eyes. She felt at home, snuggling close to a man who has too many secrets. For the first time in her life, she felt safe in a man’s arms. Unexpected her vow to Kaite surfaced making her frown at the thought. Why did she vow such a childish thing? She tried to block out the words by cuddling Trent harder.
“Are you comfortable?”
Naomi nodded and hid her grin.
“Your skin feels cool. Are you cold?” asked Trent.
“No.”
“If you’ve told me the truth you must be thinking something?”
Naomi lifted her head off Trent’s chest. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking about the secrets that you keep locked inside your head.”
“I hate tortu
re. I’ll confess.”
“Start talking big boy.” Naomi smiled at his pouting lip.
“I carry the rope on my belt because I’m a rodeo champion.”
Naomi arched her back. Her eyes widened at the confession.
“Henry is my opposition. He’s never won against me. His father hates my family because of it. A few years ago I approached my father, suggesting I should throw the next annual championship so that they might start to like each other. He refused the offer. We agreed if Roy Davey couldn’t come to accept the fact his son might always be second it is bad luck.”
Trent let a grin slip.
“What’s the look for?”
“Father said the Davey’s needed to suck it up.”
“The annual championships, when are they?”
“It’s the bush bash in the nearest town from here. It’s fast approaching.”
“Shouldn’t you be practicing?”
“I don’t need to practice. If I find a stray cow or I see a fence post or a city girl, I use my rope.”
“You’d rope a city girl?”
“Only the pretty ones,” replied Trent.
“How many pretty ones have you seen?”
“Only one,” he whispered.
Naomi portrayed a hurt expression.
“Only you,” he added.
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“It’s no trouble to say. I’ve said before; you’re easy on the eyes.”
“I feel bad your father, and Henry’s father are refusing to talk.”
“I can’t change the fact.”
“I’m on your father’s side,” stated Naomi.
“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that.”
“You have a humble family.”
“The good book says we should be.”
“Are you religious folk too?”
“Of course,” replied Trent. “The only problem in my life is the girl I once liked.”
“Your ex-flame,” cut in Naomi.
“Yes.”
She immediately felt pangs of jealousy over the girl she’d never met.
“She’s Henry’s sister. She lives twenty kilometers from the Oasis.”
“She’s not Gaile?”
“No, Gaile is my brother’s wife, though she’s a bit of alright. I must add you’re one hundred times prettier than her.”
Naomi’s cheeks instantly turned a bright red colour.
“Tell me about the Oasis?” she asked.
“The government wants our land. They’ve always wanted our land ever since they gave it to my family for free. When they discovered how fertile the land was, they wanted it back. My great grandfather refused. He didn’t make things easy for us by telling them there’s gold in the ground. The land is perfect for cows, nothing else.”
“How did he obtain the land for free?”
“We have to get going. Father is expecting us.”
Trent pushed Naomi off him and looked ready to jump to his feet.
Naomi couldn’t decide whether she felt disappointed or not, seeing how he didn’t answer her question. She respected his decision not to say. Changing tact, she continued.
“Why don’t you write to the government telling them firmly, no, you can’t have the land?”
“We tried. The government advised us we owe them, fifty thousand dollars in back taxes. Pay up or get out.”
“Borrow from the bank. When they have what, they want you’ll be surprised how quick they’ll leave you alone.”
“We did try that idea. They informed us we owed them, a further three thousand dollars. We again borrowed the money. Twelve months later they said we owed them ten thousand. They won’t stop until we’re off the land. The government is doing the same to Davey’s farm.”
“I’m sorry for prying,” whispered Naomi.
“It’s okay. Unless you know how to find fifty thousand bucks in two weeks, we’re off the land, heading to who knows where.”
Naomi almost choked at hearing the words. She leaned forward, kissing his forehead. She got to her feet and hovered over the man squatting on the ground.
“Come on; I’ve work to do.” In a military souding voice, she blurted, “On your feet Mr. Trent Stanton.”
“What’s wrong? You’ve jumped up like our Jack Russell pups.”
“Come on. We have to get to the Oasis. I have to talk to your father.”
“You can’t wait to meet my family?”
“Trent, don’t take my news the wrong way. I work for the tax office. I might be able to help.”
“My father’s a proud man. He won’t take any form of help, especially from a woman.”
“He’s going to have to, whether he wants to or not.”
“If you can help it would be a Godsend. Come on; it’s time to head for home.”
“The first thing I have to do is get clean. I also need to go to the lady’s room,” called Naomi, walking off towards the house. She looked over her shoulder at Trent. “Where’s the ladies’ toilet?”
“It’s around back, near the wood shed. Be careful of the spiders.”
Naomi gave a casual wave. Walking around the corner of the house, she glanced at the motorbike. It looked almost a pile of dry mud. She walked behind the wood shed and found a wooden structure. It appeared to be two metres tall and no more than one metre squared.
“The bush toilet,” she mumbled. “It’s worse than the bush shower.” She opened the door, viewing the room. “Trent calls it an outhouse. I call it a broken-down cabinet. A one metre squared box with a bent nail for a doorknob. At least there are four walls and a door.” She screwed her nose up at the angle of the door. “I doubt if this place has ever been cleaned.”
Naomi entered, studying the wooden seat. “I can’t see any spiders,” she mumbled.
Feeling something slide across her water soaked runners. She looked down at the hardened wet dirt. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry.
Trent’s frantic voice rose above the low throb of the plane’s twin engines. His tone belonged to a person who sounded petrified.
“Naomi, before you enter the outhouse there’s something I forgot to mention, something extremely important.”
Trent took a short cut by clambering over the woodpile. He called again more urgent. Naomi could plainly hear the panic in his voice. She started tapping her foot on the ground, waiting for him to arrive.
He sprinted up to the outhouse, rope in hand. Stopping to study the scene, he dropped the rope, looking puzzled at seeing an empty makeshift toilet. His eyes darted back and forth. Naomi watched him scratch his head while walking around. Eventually, he saw her watching him.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping calmly into the open.
Trent stood facing the city chic. His eyes were wider than golf balls. His face had drained of colour.
“Have you seen a ghost?” asked Naomi. “Or are you trembling due to the fact you have lost something about two metres long which slithers, across the ground?”
Trent’s shoulders slumped. His face flushed red. “Yes.”
“I believe this might be the living creature you stowed in the large box,” quizzed Naomi, thrusting the python at him.
“I forgot to let you know about Charlie. When you were asleep, I brought him inside the house. I thought you might be scared if I mentioned the snake. Sorry.”
“I love snakes, especially Pythons. My flat-mate owns a female,” confessed Naomi.
“Flat-mate?” asked Trent.
“Could it be you’re slightly jealous?”
“Maybe a little,” he confessed.
“Her name is Kaite.”
Trent took possession of the snake, draping it across his shoulders.
“How on earth did Charlie escape the house?”
“Henry bumped the lid off the box. Charlie knows his way around here. He must have found a crack in the floor. I kind of hoped he’d show before you both met.”
Naomi took the snake back to give him
a cuddle. “He’s a beautiful specimen. Where did you find him?”
“When my family bought this place six months ago, we discovered him coiled up in the laundry. He never went far from the house. Probably curious about the noise we were making. By the time my brother and I got this place looking okay, he seemed to want to be around us. I couldn’t leave him, so I decided to adopt the snake. I named him Charlie.”
“Trent, do you have any more secrets?”
“A few,” he whispered. Grinning, he picked up the length of rope, clipping it back onto his belt.
“I’m impressed at the way you can wind a rope.”
“I’m not a rodeo champ by accident.”
‘Trent, starting now, I’m going to derive a plan to make you confess every one of your secrets. You’re about to tell me everything,’ Naomi snarled inwardly.
“How handy are you at using the rope?”
“Care for a demonstration?”
“Sure.”
Pointing to a fence post-Trent unbuckled the rope. In a slick move, he swung the loop in circles several times above his head. At the precise moment, he let the noose go then closed his eyes. The large noose flew through the air, landing over the fence post.
“Not bad for a stationary object,” Naomi taunted.
Trent re-wound the rope, clipping it to his belt. “Don’t move.”
Naomi watched him march in the direction of the house. Jumping on the motorbike, he easily kicked started it. At speed, he came roaring back. Trent completed a few doughnuts in the dirt. Wearing a proud expression, he stood on the seat while the bike roared towards the fence post. One foot worked the throttle of the bike the other foot looked firmly planted into the seat. He gave Naomi a wink. Unclipping the rope, he started rotating the noose above his head. In seconds, he sent the rope sailing through the air. The noose landed in the exact center of the fence post. Trent jumped off the bike, landing feet first in the mud.
“I’m impressed,” clapped Naomi. “You should enter your tricks into the rodeos.”
“I don’t have to they just expect me to turn up. Come on, enough fun it’s time to go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE