The Last McAdam

by Holly Ford

  She drew back. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘Then stay.’ Nate’s eyes locked on hers. ‘Tess, stay.’

  She rose to her feet. Taking a step back, she watched his face as, slowly, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them to the floor. He took a long breath as her briefs followed. Carefully, trying not to jolt his arm, Tess knelt over him, running her hands over his body again, half-ashamed of how much she wanted to feel him inside her. Right here. Right now.

  She watched his eyes move over her, watching him watch her as she raised her hands to her hair, releasing it from its clip, arching her back as she unhooked her bra. Tess leaned forward, her hair snaking around them, her erect nipples grazing the naked skin of his chest as she lowered the sheet from his body. She took him in her hands, her mouth, holding his silky tip between her breasts, between her thighs.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she teased him, finding breath, ‘I just have to pop out to the ute.’

  ‘Top drawer,’ he told her firmly.

  Rolling the condom over his length, she held herself away, a fraction beyond his reach. But the power gathering in the brace of his thighs, the ever-darkening want in his eyes and her own flooding need drove her down. She gasped, already starting to come, her body tightening against him even as his force thrust it apart, and as the tip of his right index finger slid over her clitoris she was lost, shuddering out of control around him.

  She collapsed onto his chest, forgetting all thoughts of damage, and Nate held her to him with his right arm, his lips in her hair, his breath in her ear. As the waves of intensity began to subside, she could feel him rock hard inside her.

  Slowly she raised herself from his shoulder. As he reached for her again, she encircled his wrist with her fingers, pressing it back against the sheet, watching every move of her body, every lingering tremor, reflect in his face.

  He broke her grip when he came, his hand seizing her hip, bringing her down on him with a strength that had her own body gathering again, melting against him as his slow, deep rhythm overtook her own.

  For a long, long time they lay together in silence, close, Nate’s thighs still between hers, the rise and fall of his chest below her cheek in time with her own breathing, his fingertips moving gently, absently, over her ribs.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘this isn’t going to make it easier to walk away from this place.’

  For either of them. Tess raised her head to look into his face. ‘Don’t give up.’ She touched his cheek, the muscle that dimpled his smile. ‘Not yet. Maybe it will all work out.’ She shook her head at the doubt in his eyes. ‘We’ll find a way. I promise.’

  Eighteen

  Tess surfaced from a familiar dream to find that Nate’s lips actually were on her neck, his hand really in her hair, stroking it away from her cheek. Stretching, she pressed against his body behind her, the naked length of it hard and warm against hers. Just to prove she could, she ran her hand down his thigh.

  ‘You were talking in your sleep,’ he said softly, into her ear. ‘What were you dreaming about?’

  Rolling over, Tess reached for him. ‘Shoes,’ she smiled.

  ‘Yeah?’ Sitting up, he stroked her leg, cupping her calf as he raised her knee to brush her inner thigh with his lips. ‘What colour were they?’ His hand moved down to circle her ankle, his thumb caressing her instep the same way it had the night they met. She felt her nipples harden.

  ‘It’s after seven.’ Hand rising again, Nate looked down at her. ‘I’m going to be late for work.’ He draped her knee over his thigh.

  As a way of spending Monday morning, this would take some explaining to Carnarvon HR. Reluctantly, Tess removed her leg from his. ‘I have to go too,’ she said, with superhuman effort. It was almost twenty-four hours since she’d first gotten into his bed, and little as she wanted to leave it, there was something she needed to do.

  Back at the homestead, the kitchen was empty. Walking through the house, Tess checked the veranda, but there was no sign of Stan or Peg outside. Though there was no one to witness her return home at seven-thirty wearing yesterday’s clothes, she found herself blushing anyway. All she’d told Stan on the phone was not to make dinner for her. He hadn’t asked her a single question, and in retrospect, his lack of curiosity made her suspect he’d already known exactly where she was. Given that the HiLux had been parked outside Nate’s since Sunday morning, was there anyone on the station who didn’t know where – and therefore how – she’d spent last night? Unable to keep the grin off her face, Tess hugged her ribs. She didn’t care.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her mind of Nate, get her head back where it needed to be, erase his imprint from her body. She had a call to make. A tightrope to walk. She couldn’t afford to get it wrong.

  In the kitchen, she picked up the phone. Settling herself on the edge of the bench she punched the number in and listened to it ring.

  ‘Tess?’

  ‘Mark,’ she said. ‘Hi.’

  ‘How are you?’

  Tess banged her head gently against the wall. ‘I’m good,’ she said brightly.

  ‘Everything’s okay down there?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s fine.’ Sound normal, she ordered herself. ‘Hey, um, I just wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Has Rick Kerrow taken the manager’s job yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Mark said, ‘but I think he will. He’s supposed to come back to me with a final answer today.’

  ‘Mark,’ Tess said, ‘I need a favour.’

  •

  Nate’s ute pulled up at five o’clock. Tess met him at the kitchen door.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘What are you, a vampire now?’ Holding the door open, she looked at him in surprise. ‘You’ve never needed an invitation before.’

  His smile tugged at her body, flooding it with the memory of his touch. ‘Things are different today.’ He paused. ‘At least, they are for me.’

  ‘Things are different.’ Tess put her arms around his neck, wondering if the luxury of it would ever get old. ‘And you don’t need an invitation.’ She kissed him gently. ‘For anything.’

  Stepping in, Nate lifted her off her feet, the phone receiver tumbling from its cradle as he set her down on the bench and pressed her to the wall, dial tone humming beneath his kiss. Body wrapped around him, she laughed, scanning the kitchen nervously as he opened her shirt. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Something,’ he grinned, ‘I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.’

  ‘You staying for tea, Nate?’

  They both froze as Stan walked through the door. Quietly, Nate brought her shirt together again, holding it closed. They looked at each other. Biting her lip to keep herself from laughing again, Tess nodded.

  ‘Yeah, mate,’ Nate said, his eyes still on hers, ‘I am.’

  ‘Good-oh,’ Stan said. ‘I’ll put on some extra spuds.’ He pottered out again.

  Nate kissed her softly. Drifting with it, Tess groaned as his thumb worked down the cup of her bra. ‘You know he’ll be back in a second, right?’

  Before he could reply, there was a crunch of tyres on the gravel outside. Yanking open the door Stan had closed, Nate hid them both behind it. Hurriedly, she buttoned her shirt. His eyes gleamed. ‘Your hair,’ he grinned. Rolling her eyes at him, Tess retied her ponytail.

  By the time Harry walked into the kitchen, Nate was sitting demurely at the table, and she was standing at the open fridge, getting them a beer.

  ‘You’re both here.’ Harry looked nervous.

  Nate looked him over. ‘What’s on your mind, mate?’

  With a glance at Tess, Harry pulled out a chair.

  ‘You want a beer?’ Knowing the answer, Tess twisted the top off a stubby and set it down in front of him without bothering to wait for a reply.

  ‘Cheers.’ Harry took a swig.

  ‘I didn’t see you out there today,’ Nate observed. ‘Where’ve you been?’


  ‘Nelson.’ Harry looked at Tess again.

  Of course. Shit. She’d forgotten all about that.

  Nate’s eyebrows rose. ‘For the day?’

  ‘I went up on Friday. Tess told me to take a couple of days off.’

  ‘You did?’ Nate too looked at Tess, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Funny. I didn’t see that on the roster.’

  Ignoring him, Tess turned to Harry. ‘So, how did you get on?’

  ‘I got it.’

  ‘Got what?’ Nate said.

  ‘A job,’ Harry said. ‘I got a job.’ He paused, looking even more ill at ease. ‘They’ve offered it to me, I mean. I haven’t said I’ll take it.’

  Jesus. Why the bloody hell not? ‘You didn’t like the place?’ Tess asked him carefully.

  ‘No,’ Harry said, ‘I did.’ His gaze wandered to Nate again. ‘I mean, it’s not this place, but it’s okay. Big. Good hill country. Right on the coast.’ He nodded down at his beer.

  ‘So,’ she prompted, slowly.

  ‘I wanted to check with Nate before I said yes.’

  ‘Mate,’ Nate said, ‘this is your decision to make.’

  ‘I know.’ Eyes flitting between Nate and the tabletop, Harry was looking increasingly desperate. ‘It’s just that … Well, you said there’d be a job for me at your next place. I wouldn’t want to leave you in the lurch.’

  Tess bit her lip. If Nate said one word to put Harry off taking the job she’d worked so hard to find him …

  ‘I know you wouldn’t do that to me, mate,’ Nate said, very seriously. ‘But it could take me a while to sort myself out. I tell you what, if you like the look of this job, how about you take it for now? When I’m ready, I’ll give you a call, see how you’re placed then.’

  ‘Okay.’ Harry sounded hugely relieved. ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘You’ll like Nelson,’ Tess smiled. ‘The tourists are in town for more than one night.’

  Harry grinned. ‘I hear you sank the jet boat again,’ he told Nate.

  ‘Yep. Did a pretty good job of it too.’ Nate gave a wry shake of his head. ‘It’s not coming up this time.’

  ‘Mitch had to pull you guys out of the river?’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘I’m sorry I missed that.’ Harry knocked back his beer. ‘How’s the arm?’

  ‘It’s holding up okay,’ Nate said. Meeting Tess’s eyes, he shot her a grin.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Harry said, ‘are you guys—’

  ‘Harry,’ Nate warned him.

  ‘But you are, aren’t you?’

  They looked at each other.

  ‘Thank Christ for that,’ Harry sighed. ‘About bloody time. Put us all out of our misery.’

  ‘Go on,’ Nate ordered. ‘Get out of here. You’ve got a call to make.’

  As the porch door closed behind Harry, Nate turned to her, pushing his chair away from the table.

  ‘You did that for him?’

  ‘I made a few calls,’ Tess shrugged. ‘You work with a lot of farm managers in my job. I told them what I know about him, that’s all.’

  ‘What you know?’

  ‘That he’s the sort of guy who doesn’t come along too often.’

  Nate nodded slowly. ‘That was a nice thing to do.’

  ‘You needn’t sound so surprised,’ she laughed. ‘Anyway, it’s true. I was doing them a favour.’

  ‘The place he’s going to,’ Nate said, ‘they’re good people there?’

  ‘I don’t know them,’ Tess admitted, ‘but I know people who do. It sounds like they are. They were smart enough to want to hire him, that’s a good start. And’ – getting up to fetch them another beer, she smiled down into Nate’s eyes – ‘Harry can take care of himself. Right?’

  ‘Harry can take care of himself.’ Reaching up, he took her by the hips, easing her down over him, his kiss gentle and deep. ‘Thank you.’

  Tess drew back. ‘Listen, there’s something I need to tell you before you talk to anyone else. I did something today.’

  He waited, listening.

  ‘I should maybe have talked to you about it first, and – and I would have, but I wasn’t sure if it would work, and now …’ And now it was done, she was nervous as hell.

  ‘What,’ Nate said cautiously, ‘did you do?’

  The door opened. As Tess sprang off Nate’s lap, Mitch sauntered in. She ran a precautionary hand down her ponytail as he closed the door behind him. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘there you are.’

  ‘Mate.’ Nate stared at him. ‘Really?’

  ‘I gave you twenty-four hours,’ Mitch shrugged. ‘You ought to have got it out of your system by now.’ He sat down at the table.

  ‘Tess and I were trying to have a conversation.’

  ‘Was that what you were trying to do?’ Mitch looked at Nate drily. ‘Well, I guess that’s always been difficult for you.’

  Tess fetched another beer from the fridge.

  ‘Cheers.’ Mitch raised it to her briefly. ‘I came to tell you I took a run up the gorge myself yesterday.’

  Nate sat forward. ‘And?’

  ‘The hut’s all good. The yards too. You were right, they got wet, but I cleared a few twigs off the rails and everything looks okay.’

  Excellent. ‘So no problems?’ Tess summarised.

  ‘It’s getting to the hut,’ Mitch said, ‘that’s going to be the problem. I think I found where your tree came from. Looks like it set off down the Dead Cow with a few of its mates. There’s been a slip at the top of the gully. It’s scoured out the access track to the ford coming down and left us some pretty big timber.’

  Nate’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is it crossable?’

  Mitch shook his head. ‘Not on wheels. You’ll get a horse through okay. Unless I lift the gear up to the hut, you’re going to have to pack it in that way.’

  Shit. They’d lose half a day doing that. ‘Can we clear the ford?’ Tess asked.

  ‘Not with the Robbie,’ Mitch told her. ‘Those logs are a job for the big boys, and even then you’re going to need to wait for winter when the flow drops. You’ll have to get a decent digger up there as well.’

  Tess sighed to herself as the dollar signs mounted.

  ‘Well,’ Nate said slowly, ‘I guess that’s going to be somebody else’s problem.’

  There was a small silence.

  ‘So we’ll head up a day early,’ he said. ‘Float the horses in as far as we can, ride the rest of the way, Mitch can do a few runs in the Robbie, we’ll spend an extra night in the hut and crack on the next day.’

  ‘I won’t be sorry,’ Mitch said quietly, ‘to have one more night up there.’

  He and Nate looked at each other.

  ‘The last trip,’ Nate said.

  Tess opened her mouth.

  ‘Your first,’ he smiled at her, shaking it off. ‘All the way, anyway. Let’s hope we actually get there this time.

  ‘About that,’ she began.

  ‘Gidday, Mitch.’ Stan returned at last from wherever he’d been hiding. ‘You staying for tea as well?’

  ‘Go on,’ Tess said. ‘Do.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Mitch told Stan. ‘That’d be great.’

  Tess looked from Mitch to Nate. ‘I guess I should call Harry.’

  ‘That reminds me, love,’ Stan said. ‘Kylie Kerrow rang for you yesterday. Something about a copy of the latest power bill. She seemed to think it was urgent.’

  Nate frowned. ‘Who’s Kylie Kerrow?’

  ‘Rick Kerrow’s wife,’ Stan said.

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘The new manager.’

  ‘Rick Kerrow,’ Mitch repeated thoughtfully. ‘Why do I feel like I know that name?’

  ‘Because you do,’ Tess said. ‘Apparently, the three of you went to school together.’

  ‘We did?’ Nate looked nonplussed.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Mitch shot Nate a look. ‘I remember him now.’

  ‘He sure as hell remembers you,’ she said. ‘What did the two of you do to him,
steal his lunch money or something?’

  ‘I can’t place him at all.’ Nate shrugged at Mitch in defeat.

  ‘Try harder,’ Mitch said. ‘Played hooker for the second fifteen. And it wasn’t his money you stole.’

  Tess watched Nate’s eyes flare as he made the connection. ‘Colette?’

  ‘There you go.’

  Nate grinned. ‘She was too tall for him anyway.’

  ‘Colette?’ Tess laughed. ‘What happened to Gina?’

  ‘She dumped him just before we went away on this big sports trip,’ Mitch said. ‘Nate got over it on the bus.’

  ‘Shit.’ Nate whistled softly. ‘That guy’s going to be running this place?’

  ‘And he wants you gone,’ Mitch laughed, ‘before his wife gets here.’

  ‘What’s she like?’ Nate’s smile sparkled.

  ‘I don’t think you’d like her much.’ They all stared at Stan in surprise. ‘She didn’t sound like your sort of girl.’

  Tess raised her beer. ‘He’s not wrong.’

  ‘So in four more weeks’ – Nate’s eyes travelled slowly over the kitchen before coming to rest on Tess’s face – ‘you move out of here, and …’ He frowned.

  ‘Rick Kerrow,’ Mitch supplied.

  ‘Rick Kerrow,’ Nate said, ‘moves in.’

  As the silence grew, Tess couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘there’s been a change of plan.’ She held Nate’s eyes. ‘That’s what I was trying to tell you before. This morning I asked to be reassigned. I’ve got a new contract.’

  He blinked. ‘You’re leaving?’ he said sharply. ‘When?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m staying. As of now, I’m the permanent manager of Broken Creek.’

  Nineteen

  ‘Are you angry?’ Outside the porch door, Tess looked across the darkness, a fat three-quarter moon silvering the roof of Nate’s truck in the drive.

  ‘No.’ Nate stood, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, watching Mitch’s tail-lights disappear behind the hedge. ‘I’m not angry.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you alone,’ she said, trying and failing to make out his face. ‘I wanted to talk to you before I talked to anyone else. But I couldn’t sit there any longer without saying anything.’