The Perfect Gift

by Mark Stewart

  MARGARET STANTON led the way back to the house. The moment they entered she showed Naomi the study.

  Along one wall Naomi saw computer paper stacked neatly at least half a metre high in ten different piles. A wooden three draw filing cabinet sat in one corner. The cabinet looked as though nobody had opened it in years. Except for the paper piles, the room felt cozy.

  “The office seems to be a nice place to sit and reflect,” blurted Naomi waving her hand in the air. “Dare I say the whole of the Oasis seems a nice place to sit and reflect? Maybe that’s the trouble. Everyone’s too relaxed. The great Australian saying, ‘she’ll be right. Tomorrow is another day,’ is too frivolous a saying.” She walked to the desk, turning her nose up. “Please tell me the piles of papers are in year order.”

  Earl Stanton stepped away from the window, glaring at his wife. He looked sideways at Naomi.

  “They sure are.”

  “You just saved me six months of work,” advised Naomi on a sigh.

  The man wore a doubtful expression. His brow formed deep concerned wrinkles.

  “I’ll have you know my wife, and I disagree on her idea I should allow you the privilege of snooping about my paperwork.”

  “I thought your wife said it’d be okay?”

  “Please, let me finish. She gave me a piece of her mind. She helped to convince me to see the light of day. Perhaps you were the miracle I’ve been praying for?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I suppose a thank you is in order. If there’s anything I can do to help, please feel free to let me know?” The big man strolled across the room to stand next to his son.

  “Both you and Trent can leave me alone. You have helped enough.”

  “Come on you two,” insisted Margaret Stanton. “Let’s leave the young lady to her work.” She ushered Trent and her husband out of the room, clicking the door shut.

  “You know I don’t like anyone poking their nose in my study let alone the books,” grumbled Stanton staring nervously at his wife.

  “Darling, you agreed you don’t have much of a choice.” Margaret took hold of her husband’s arm. Holding him tight she dragged him away from the room. “She’ll be right.”

  Naomi marched across the floor to the door. She was in time to hear the group walk away. A muffled conversation coming from the dining room forced her to open the door a tad to steal a cursory glance. The hall looked clear. Naomi closed the study door and strolled across the room to sit in the huge leather chair.

  “I believe this chair may be a tax deduction,” she mumbled. After searching the antique mahogany desk for paper and pen, Naomi gazed around the room noting there were books from floor to ceiling. She walked across the room to take a closer look. “Someone’s stacked these books in alphabetical order,” she whispered, running her fingers horizontally across the spine of at least two hundred books. “A place for everything; and everything in its rightful place,” she stated. Grinning, she sat back at the desk.

  Naomi worked tirelessly through the night. At 2:00am Trent opened the door.

  “Can I get you anything?” he whispered.

  Naomi looked up. “A large mug of hot coffee will be lovely.”

  Trent disappeared. In minutes, he returned carrying a mug of hot brew.

  “Thank you, now please leave.”

  At 3:00am Trent again stuck his head through the open door.

  “Coffee?” he whispered tentatively.

  Naomi grinned. “Thank you.”

  She kept glancing at the clock waiting for Trent’s return. To help pass the time she stood, walked to the window, pulling open the heavy gold crested drapes. She could barely see the barn where she and Trent had slowly waltzed to the soft melody.

  Exhaling heavily, Naomi wrapped her arms around her waist, the music still playing in her mind. Starting to hum she closed her eyes. Her imagination easily took her back to the barn where Trent asked her to dance. She started to sway, lost in her imagination.

  “Do we have a future together?” she questioned.

  “I hope so.”

  The reply broke through Naomi’s fantasy, making her jolt. She opened her eyes when an arm slipped around her waist. She twisted around, looking directly into Trent’s eyes. The expression on his face made her knees buckle. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. She took a step back in a desperate bid to regain control.

  Trent stepped forward.

  “Stay away,” she warned.

  “Please, don’t stop what you were thinking.”

  “I don’t know what you mean?” Naomi brushed past him on her way back to the desk.

  Trent grabbed her arm, sweeping her in close. He kissed her passionately.

  Even if Naomi could, she didn’t pull away. She wanted Trent and groped for his shoulders when he lifted her in his arms.

  “If you keep this up I won’t want you to leave,” she taunted hurriedly between breaths.

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “You have to. I’m not finished going through the books.”

  Trent turned her around so he could massage her neck.

  “You have magic hands,” Naomi whispered.

  Trent bent his head so he could kiss the back of her neck.

  “Don’t.” Naomi’s protest sounded mild at best.

  “Why not?” asked Trent.

  “I’ll force you to stay.”

  “Good. How’s everything looking?”

  “Fine,” she answered, walking back to the chair. “I’ve only gone back one year. Already I’ve found twelve thousand dollars.”

  “How?” asked Trent.

  “The fuel for the plane is a good place to begin. There’s also the depreciation amount. How long have you owned the plane?”

  “Two years.”

  “What did you use before?”

  “We ran two choppers.”

  “Do you still have the helicopters?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are they in good working condition?”

  “Of course, we use them all the time.”

  “Does your father have a sore back?”

  “No.”

  “Does he spend a lot of time sitting at the desk working?”

  “Does it matter?” asked Trent.

  “It does if you want to save the Oasis. The comfortable chair might be a tax deduction.”

  “My whole family does what they can.”

  “Forget it. Not worth the hassle.”

  Trent flicked through the seven hundred standard size papers sitting neatly on the desktop. He let out a low whistle.

  “Tell me you don’t have to work through each of those pages.”

  “I sure do.” Naomi chuckled at his shocked expression. “It won’t take long.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Naomi dug her nose out of a fuel bill. “You’re doing everything you can.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re here in the same room as me.”

  Trent watched her sort through page after page. Naomi glanced up every so often to make sure he didn’t fall asleep.

  The cowboy watched her closely, observing anything she did.

  Every time Naomi stretched he’d walk around the desk to massage her shoulders. Whenever a rogue page accidentally fell to the floor, Trent sprinted to pick it up.

  After the second rub of her ankle, Naomi started to play games to make him work harder by stepping on the paper.

  “Love games using a piece of paper,” chuckled Trent.

  Naomi scrunched a page and threw it. She laughed when it hit him in the nose. Trent sprinted across the room to her chair, wrestling her to the floor. Almost immediately the tackle ended in a passionate kiss.

  “I heard a noise, is everything okay?” asked Earl Stanton, barging into the room.

  “Yes, everything’s fine,” yelped Trent, jumping to a standing position.

  Stanton shook his head before closing the door, leaving the
two chuckling.

  By 4:00am Naomi threw her pen down. She stood and stretched her cramped muscles. Walking to the window to look out into the darkness at nothing, in particular, Trent got out of his chair to be by her side.

  “I’d love a cup of coffee,” she whispered.

  He had sprinted for the study door before she finished her sentence. Naomi giggled at her sudden power.

  By 4:45am Naomi reached for the phone to dial her home.

  “Hello,” croaked a voice on the seventh ring.

  “Kaite, sorry to wake you, I have an urgent task for you to complete.”

  Her best friend groped for the bedside clock. “Naomi, do you know what time it is?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “The numbers on my alarm clock are a blur. If I may add, the sun’s not up yet. Why the urgent call? Couldn’t it wait till the rooster made a noise?”

  “I wanted to beat the rooster. Though I thought I heard it crow five minutes ago.”

  “You’re not making any sense. Call me back later.”

  “Kaite, wake up. I need your help. I’ve also got news for you.”

  Naomi’s flat-mate struggled to a sitting position. “Do you know what time I got to bed this morning?”

  “Knowing you; probably five minutes before I rang.”

  “Almost correct,” grumbled Kaite. “Twelve minutes ago.”

  “Sorry, my timing was slightly off. I thought you might have just got home.”

  “You made a lousy guess.”

  “Kaite, are you awake yet?”

  “Yes, I’m awake,” she replied in a voice which sounded asleep.

  “I met this wonderful bloke.”

  “Good for you. Now can I go back to bed?”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  “Kaite, Trent has a handsome brother a tad younger than you.”

  “Who’s Trent?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Ok, I’m fully awake. I’m listening.”

  By the time, Naomi relayed to Kaite the general idea about Trent, his brother Mitch and the Oasis, her best friend started doing seat drops on the edge of the bed.

  “I haven’t mentioned the best part,” hinted Naomi.

  “Tell me more,” begged Kaite.

  “What would you say if I can con Earl Stanton into flying you out here to the Oasis in a helicopter?”

  “I’d say yes. Will he do it?”

  “I’m certain of it. Even if you and Mitch don’t hit it off, the short holiday will help you to feel revitalized. Wear something comfortable. You need to ride a horse.”

  Kaite screamed in excitement. “I’ve never kissed a cowboy before.”

  “There’s one thing you have to do before I can commence my idea. I need you to go into my briefcase to find the tax sheet.”

  “The one Brandt gave you to keep safe?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t have your combination to the briefcase.”

  “5541.”

  “You want me to burn it?”

  “I want you to fax it to me.”

  “You’re going to send it to Brandt’s clients to get him into trouble? Great plan Naomi, he’s going to be pissed.”

  “Kaite, please, this is important. I’ll text you the phone number to where I am. After you’ve faxed the form put it back exactly where you found it.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it even though I don’t understand what you’re up to.”

  “After you’ve done it, pack a small suitcase. Wait by the phone for a call from Earl Stanton.”

  Kaite replaced the phone on its hook and bounded across the room. She found the briefcase, punched in the code then made her way to the fax machine. She waited impatiently for the fax machine to deliver the message, replaced the paper in the briefcase and went back to bed.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN