by Mandy Magro
With one last strum of the guitar, Adam smiled and Taylor shoved the final piece of damper in her mouth, clapping enthusiastically along with the others. Adam smiled sheepishly and bowed to his tiny crowd before helping himself to another piece of syrup-soaked damper. Taylor couldn’t understand how he kept so fit. Adam loved his food, especially Monte Carlos, and he devoured almost an entire packet of the biscuits daily. Taylor wished she had his metabolism, but watching what she ate and hard work was the only way she kept the unwanted kilos at bay.
‘That song always gives me goose bumps. They’re such beautiful lyrics, Adam,’ she said, stretching her weary legs out in front of her. She was completely bushed after two weeks out on the trail but exhilarated by the amazing time she’d spent with Jay. Their bond was deepening, the wall around his heart coming down brick by brick. He was calling her ‘Tays’ all the time now, like the rest of the blokes. But when Jay said it, it was somehow different, somehow full of meaning. And that simple act meant so much to her. She’d also noticed that, with each camp they set up, his swag was closer to hers. And she liked that, a lot.
‘It’s your turn next, Tays. I have to hear this voice that Jay keeps raving about. You’ve snuck off every night before I could ask you to sing.’ Adam pointed at her with sticky fingers, grinning. ‘So no getting out of it tonight, darls.’
Taylor trembled with nerves. ‘All right then, but I’m not promising a stellar performance like yours.’
Adam gave a dismissive wave. ‘I’m sure you’ll be great. And if you like, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll sing along with you. Ease you into it.’
Taylor relaxed slightly. ‘I’d appreciate that, cheers. I’ll just finish my cuppa and then go grab my guitar.’
She left the campfire, cheers and clapping encouraging her on. She felt extremely loved.
‘Anyone for some more dessert? You know how I hate any waste,’ said Patty, smiling, when Taylor returned with her guitar in hand. She held up the leftover damper and Taylor noticed with relief that the plate was steady in her hands.
As the blokes grabbed a piece of damper each Taylor thought about the last two weeks with Patty. She’d had a horrible time dealing with her alcohol withdrawal at first: shaking, persistent insomnia, nightmares when she did finally sleep and vomiting every time she ate. But she’d toughed it out, taking her mind off the uncomfortable sensations by cooking, looking after Buster and Floyd and reading when she was alone at camp. Patty’s favourite kind of book was biographical stories of the pioneering women of the Australian bush. She reckoned the women who wrote the stories were an inspiration. Four nights ago, while she and Patty had lain awake in their swags staring at the stars, Patty had quietly explained how the bush was healing her from the inside out, the powers the untamed lands possessed beyond anything a psychiatrist or doctor had offered her. That was when Taylor knew Patty had found her love for life again and that she was well and truly on the mend.
Patty stood in front of Taylor, the plate of damper held out in offering. Taylor clutched her protruding belly, the top button of her jeans already open to relieve the pressure of too much good food. ‘Oh, Patty, I couldn’t fit any more in. My goodness, I reckon I’ve put on ten kilos out here with your cooking. I’ve never eaten so much in my life.’
Patty clucked like a mother hen. ‘You’re working hard, Taylor, you need sustenance, and lots of it. Come on, love, one more piece and then it’s all gone.’
Taylor blew her cheeks out then released the air loudly. ‘Argh, all right then, you twisted my arm.’
Tom stood abruptly, wiping his sticky fingers on his jeans. ‘I’m gonna call it a night. See you all in the morning.’ He gave Patty a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thanks for dinner, Pat. It was delicious, once again.’
‘Night, Tom,’ Taylor called after him, unable to shake the feeling that she’d done something wrong. She was also a little upset he wasn’t going to stay and hear her sing. Tom had been in a quiet mood all day and she needed to find out why, just in case it was because of her. Tension was hard to live with when you worked, ate and socialised together and she needed to clear her anxiety of the situation.
Waiting until Tom was out of earshot, she turned to Jay, whispering, ‘Have I done something to upset Tom?’
Jay brushed the crumbs off his jeans. ‘Oh, nah, not at all. Well, not directly anyways.’
‘What do you mean?’
Jay rubbed his temples then glanced at his mum for guidance. Patty shrugged.
Jay put his arm around Taylor, sending a delightful shiver all over her. God, how she wanted to kiss him. ‘You just remind Tom of someone he loved very dearly, and lost, that’s all. It was a very long time ago and something he doesn’t like to talk about. So I won’t go into it, it’s not my place. You haven’t done anything wrong, so, don’t worry, Tom will snap out of it eventually. He always does.’
Taylor tapped her lips with her fingers, thinking. ‘Well, I wish he’d tell me instead of being quiet around me. But I suppose I shouldn’t take it personally. We all know what it’s like to lose someone you love and everyone deals with it differently. I hope he’s okay?’
‘Yep, he’s all good; like I said, it all happened years ago so he’s learnt to deal with it. He just reckons you look so much like her that it brings back all the painful memories.’
‘Hmm, isn’t it strange that Tom and I have both felt that around each other? I could swear I’ve met him before.’ She chuckled softly. ‘Maybe in another lifetime, hey?’
‘Maybe,’ Jay said as he tightened his arm around her.
It felt so natural to be in his arms and she relished the feeling, not wanting to pull away. Ever. She nestled into him further, enjoying the warmth of his body against her own; the plummeting temperature making her shiver. ‘Well, whoever this person was he must have loved them very dearly,’ she said.
Jay nodded softly. ‘Yep, he sure did, and still does. Will till the day he dies, and then some.’
‘That’s one lucky gal, being loved like that,’ Taylor murmured.
Jay kissed her on the cheek. Her body filled with a sensual heat as she felt his soft breath on her ear, the hollers of the blokes pulling her from her light-headed haze as they begged to hear her sing. Reluctantly untwining from Jay’s embrace, she stood, her belly fluttering. It was time to sing with the Adam Brand. Holy shit!
‘So what should we sing, Ads?’ she said, sitting down beside him and placing her guitar in her lap.
‘Any requests?’ asked Adam, searching the faces around the fire. ‘How ’bout you, Jay? I’m sure you’ve got something you’d like us to sing.’
Jay rested on his elbows, contemplating. ‘I know, how about “A Walk In The Rain” by that brilliant new country artist, Clancy. I love the clip, it’s awesome.’ He anxiously shifted his gaze from Adam to Taylor. ‘Do you know that one Taylor?’
‘Yep, sure do, and I absolutely love it! It gives me goose bumps every time I hear it. It’s such a beautiful love song.’ Her emerald green eyes sparkled in the flickering flames, making her even more beautiful, her insight into the lyrics he’d asked her to sing evident in her penetrating gaze.
Adam smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. ‘That song is the perfect choice mate.’
With the strum of guitars Adam and Taylor launched into beautiful, harmonic song as Jay and Taylor’s eyes locked onto one another’s, her lips singing the words Jay had been dying to say to her, and she to him.
When I wake up in the morning
You’ll see a smile come on my face
I’ve got that feeling; I’m at home now
With you I think I’ve found my place
In my life I’ve seen some changes
Some for better, some for worse
I’ve been to hell and back, countless times
This thing with you, it’s a first
Cause when I feel I can’t go on now
There’s too much hurt, too much pain
I’ll just turn to you and
take your hand
And say baby can I walk you in the rain
Looking back I think I owe you
I was drowning in myself
I burned the candle from both ends
In my room with a view on the top shelf
Since the day we came together
You lit a fire in my soul
It’s always been there,
It always will be
Right now it burns out of control
Cause when I feel I can’t go on
There’s too much hurt, too much pain
I’ll just turn to you and take your hand
And say baby can I walk you in the rain
I’ll just turn to you and take your hand
And say baby can I walk you, baby can I hold you
Baby can I walk you in the rain
In the rain
Their stolen moment was broken as an agreeable holler came from Adam, Patty, Fang and Graham. Taylor quickly wiped her eyes, smirking at her mates’ lack of subtlety and fighting the urge to run into Jay’s strong arms and stay there forever. To have the opportunity to sing with Adam Brand was unbelievable.
Adam tapped his guitar, a satisfied smile on his lips, as if the job he’d set out to do was now done. ‘And a one, and a two, and a one, two, three . . .’
Taylor and Adam began a glorious duet, singing the lyrics to a song that Adam had written and that Taylor knew like the back of her hand. She sang from the heart, her strong voice resonating in the stillness of the bush, knowing every word that passed her lips was from Jay to her — and it meant more than anything in this world.
The group cheered, clapped and whistled as Taylor wiped tears from her eyes again. Jay smiled softly at her. His own eyes glistened, his gorgeousness enhanced by the soft golden glow of the fire. He stood and so did she, everyone else forgotten. Within a few steps they were in each other’s arms, the powerful emotions behind their embrace beyond anything Taylor had ever experienced. Finally, through a song, she had connected with Jay on a level she’d longed for. It was perfect proof of just how powerful music could be.
‘Well, I’ll be hitting the sack,’ Patty said, a little too loudly, quickly drinking the last of her tea. ‘Catch you all in the morning.’
‘Yeah. Me too,’ said Adam.
‘And me,’ added Graham as he slapped Fang on the arm.
Fang forced a yawn. ‘Oh yeah, I’m beat.’
Taylor smiled shyly and Jay dropped his arms from around her waist. He gave Patty a kiss on the cheek.
‘Yep, night, Mum, love ya.’
Patty rested her hand on Jay’s face. ‘Love you too, son. Very much.’
Taylor gave her a wave. ‘Sleep tight.’
‘Will do, and you,’ Patty said, winking.
With everyone now in their swags, Taylor and Jay sat side by side on the log, staring at the flicker of flames. Jay gently took Taylor’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her palm, admiring every curve of her fingers as he trailed it upwards. He glanced up at her eyes, now full of tears, wiping one as it rolled down her cheek. ‘Oh Taylor, don’t cry. I’m sorry I’ve been such an arse and taken this long to tell you how I feel. It was just, well . . . I um . . .’
Taylor placed her index finger on his lips, halting him mid-sentence. ‘I’m crying because I’m so happy. And I don’t want to hear your sorries. You did what you had to do and I’m glad you gave yourself the time you needed. Otherwise, we may not be sitting here having this conversation. If you’d rushed into anything you weren’t ready for you might have freaked out and finished it before it even began.’
Jay cupped her face, his hands warm against the cool of her cheeks. ‘You, Taylor Whitworth, are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.’
Taylor smiled sassily. ‘And you, Jay Donnellson, are the most intriguing man I’ve ever met — which makes you extremely sexy by the way.’
‘Hmm, so my plans of acting all deep, dark and mysterious worked a treat, hey?’ Jay said, his voice husky as he pulled Taylor to him, as their lips met and caressed.
Taylor moaned softly as she ran her hands underneath his shirt and up his chest, enjoying the feeling of his feathery hair against her fingertips. His kiss was as intense, as passionate, as she’d imagined, and more. It picked her up and whipped her away into the sky above, where she floated blissfully in his arms among the glimmering stars.
Jay gently pulled away, his lips a feather’s breath from Taylor’s. ‘I wish I could make love to you, right here and right now. But I can’t. It’s not right. I want privacy when I make love to you for the first time. There’s too much I want to do to you for it to be over too quickly.’
Taylor shuddered with his words, her entire body responding to him as she clutched his shirt and pulled him into another hungry kiss. He teased her as he flicked his tongue over hers, insinuating what he would do to her if he got her naked. Then he pulled back again, leaving her yearning for him to be inside her. She was speechless, left quivering from his touch as he brushed a few stray curls from her face.
Jay ran his fingers over her parted lips, smirking so subtly it made Taylor want him all the more. ‘What we can do is sleep together in my swag, the important word being “sleep”.’
Taylor pouted. ‘I s’pose I’ve waited this long to make mad passionate love to you, another night isn’t going to kill me.’
Jay stood, taking her hand in his. He led her into the shadows where they snuggled into his swag and each other’s arms. The starry world above demanded their attention, as they were lulled to sleep by the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the trickle of the nearby creek and the soft padding of kangaroos as they bounded to the nearby water trough for a drink. The entirety of the bush and its magical powers had finally captured them.
CHAPTER
21
1919 — Far North Queensland
Placing fresh wildflowers on the two graves, Anne sat back and tugged her shawl around her neck, the weather taking a turn for the worse as heaving black clouds swallowed up the blue sky with a fierce hunger. Placing her palms on both headstones, she bowed her head and said a silent prayer for her children. Parents were meant to die before their offspring, but she and William had buried two long before their time, and the scars that their deaths had left on both parents’ hearts had never fully healed. She tried not to be bitter and instead thanked the good Lord for leaving them their precious young Will. For Will Junior would be the successor of the Waratah Station, the one to carry on the legacy of the Donnellson name.
She gently patted the earth where Mary was buried, the lump in her throat increasing as she recalled the night her little girl had finally succumbed to pneumonia. After a week of high fever, awful aching and coughing up blood, her twelve-year-old body was unable to fight the sickness any longer. Mary had gone to sleep and never woken up. She and William had sat holding her lifeless little hands all night long, not wanting to say goodbye to her. Come dawn the next day, burying her was the hardest thing Anne had ever had to do. It had taken two years for her to find her smile again.
Pushing her long grey curls from her face Anne traced her fingers over the inscription on Edward’s headstone. She whispered the date of his birth and death as she wiped tears from her wrinkled cheek. It had been fifty-three years since she’d held his lifeless body, but the raw heartache she felt with his sudden loss was still as intense, the agony of never hearing him laugh or talk, of not seeing him take his very first steps, was still heartbreaking.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Anne wept freely. These days, this sacred spot was the only place she allowed her grief to take over, and no matter how many times she made the trek up here, she always broke down. Once she was back at the cottage she resolutely went back to living, it was the only way she could deal with the pain. And she didn’t want to upset William, her crying would only bring tears to his own eyes. One thing she found comfort in these days was knowing it wouldn’t be long before she’d finally meet Mary and Edward in heaven, h
er eighty-one years now taking a toll on her health. The sharp pains in her heart were becoming much more frequent and intense. She’d chosen not to tell William about them, not wanting to worry him — he was getting too old to be burdened with her concerns.
Ignoring the drops of rain beginning to fall, she methodically dusted off Mary’s and Edward’s headstones, and then the neighbouring one, with her lace handkerchief, the mound of earth before it still fresh. Ben’s slow, painful fight with kidney disease had finally overcome him a week ago. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she recalled all the good times they’d spent together as a family. Ben, known as ‘Uncle Ben’ to young Will and Mary, had been hard to warm to at first, his bouts of binge drinking unpleasant, but over the years, she’d grown very fond of his company. The hollowness his death had left was deep, for both her and William.
With the gusts of wind increasing, Anne decided it was time to head back to the cottage, conscious William would be worried about her not returning before the storm hit. Also, Will Junior and his family were coming for dinner tonight and she needed to finish getting the food prepared. She knew how much William longed to be able to come with her on her weekly visits to the Waratah Station graveyard, as he had done for years, but his stiff and swollen legs refused to carry him all this way any more and with her frail frame there was no way she could help him up here. The graveyard sat on the highest point of Waratah, and with its commanding views, it was certainly worth the climb.
Bless William; he’d never stopped protecting her, supporting her and loving her with everything he had for close to sixty years. Not once had she questioned her love for Will or his for her. It was true love and she felt very lucky to have had such a wonderful man to share her life with. Through all the trials of droughts, floods, cyclones and deaths, their marriage had only grown stronger, and their bond deeper. He was everything to her, the first person she woke up to in the morning and the last one she saw when she closed her eyes at night.
She grabbed her walking stick and began the walk down the hill, reminiscing. She and William had been through a lot and come out the other side still madly in love. The only thing that still niggled at her, though, was why he had got rid of the jewellery box. Her shock at finding it missing from her hiding spot all those years ago had erupted in a massive argument. One that was big enough to curb any future discussion of his motives behind burying it. What was the real reason he’d never taken it to the police? The excuses he’d roared at her that day just hadn’t made sense, and still didn’t. Before she took her last breath she was determined to find out, and find out she would, come hell or high water.