‘I have a brilliant business proposition for him. How long will it take me to get to Ben Bullen Hills from here?’
‘An hour or so through the bush, but I’m not sure you’d want to travel those rough tracks in the Merc,’ said Bella, with a doubtful shake of her head. ‘Trin and Caro will be down in Burrindal on Sunday for the rodeo.’ She mentally slapped her forehead. Damn it! Why did she say that?
‘Good. I’ll stay until then.’
And that was the last she saw of him for the evening, although she heard the clacking of a keyboard behind the closed door for half the night.
When Bella finally made it back to the house after checking every other stock trough on the property for leaks, it was lunchtime. Warren still hadn’t appeared in the warm, homey kitchen. Worried, she peeked into the front room to see him snoring peacefully on top of the fully made-up bed. The screen on his open laptop blinked blindly. She nudged the mouse sideways and an email flashed onto the screen.
Just loved our time at the Versace. When’s our next opportunity for a ‘takeover bid’?
Larissa xo
Warren’s oh-so-capable assistant.
The worst thing was Bella didn’t feel a thing. They were welcome to each other. How wonderful that freedom was. She didn’t owe the bastard a jot.
The afternoon passed peacefully as Bella worked on her Landcare -facilitation notes. She was making a casserole for their tea when he finally emerged from his room. Looking cool and calm, he stood in a Lacoste shirt and pressed slacks, a picture of urbanity in an otherwise functional country kitchen.
The kettle on the old combustion stove hissed merrily.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’ she asked.
‘That would be nice,’ he replied formally as he took a seat on the kitchen stool.
Bella couldn’t help but compare him to the last man who’d sat on that seat. Warren was prim, uncomfortable and unsure, whereas Will had filled in the space contentedly and looked like he belonged there.
Warren crossed one knee over the other and then, swelling his chest as he spoke, said, ‘I haven’t slept all day, you know. I’ve been working on my laptop.’
For the first time, Bella felt sorry for him, that he thought he had to justify his time spent on the weekend.
‘I’m well aware of that, Warren; I could hear the keys clicking all afternoon.’ Bella didn’t mind lying either.
She moved around the kitchen to make his coffee as he liked it: strong, straight black with two sugars.
‘I’ll just go lock up the chooks and feed the dog, and then I’ll serve our tea. Is casserole on toast, okay?’
‘Perfectly.’
And they lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence.
It wasn’t until later, when they were in front of the fire, that she gathered the courage to say what she had to say. Tea was finished but the dishes were still in the sink. Warren wouldn’t have known how to wash and dry anyway, so she hadn’t bothered to start. He obviously presumed there was a dishwasher hidden somewhere.
‘There was something else I needed to talk to you about,’ Bella said as she carefully sipped her tea, aware even now of the gathering swell of her belly.
Warren was checking out Maggie’s bookcase, his nose scrunched in dismay. ‘I can’t believe the number of trashy novels your aunt has on this shelf.’
‘I’m pregnant, Warren,’ Bella stated in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘I’m having our baby.’ She stood and waited for his reaction.
Warren went still. He replaced the book very carefully on the bookshelf and slowly turned around. His expression changed from one of shock to one of anger.
‘Well . . . are you going to say anything?’ she asked, uncomfortable with the silence that was stretching out across the room.
Warren moved to the couch and sank his body down into the cushions. He stretched out his legs, his face finally settling into a frown.
‘I am going to say five words, Bella. It. Is. Not. My. Baby.’
‘What do you mean it’s not your baby?’ Bella burst out, indignation and guilt warring from within. What did he know?
‘I can’t have children,’ Warren stated, as he looked at his manicured nails.
‘What?’
‘I can’t have children,’ he said again, putting down his hand to stare directly into her face.
‘I heard you the first bloody time! What do you mean you can’t have kids?’
‘I’ve had a vasectomy,’ said Warren flatly, dragging a cushion from the end of the couch to put behind his back. ‘I had it done when I was going out with my old girlfriend Diana. Before I met you.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ demanded Bella. ‘We were going to get married, for heaven’s sake!’
‘It didn’t come up.’ He had the grace to look slightly discomforted.
‘It didn’t come up!’ She got up in agitation and walked towards the sliding door, trying to get hold of herself. A few minutes passed, and then in a quietly controlled voice, she said: ‘Just when were you planning to tell me?’
‘Oh . . . I don’t know,’ said Warren as he stood too and started to pace the old wooden floor, his Windsor Smith leather shoes squeaking as they flexed over the boards. ‘I just didn’t think it was relevant.’ He stopped walking and turned to explain. ‘When were we going to have time to have kids? What with my career and everything, kids just didn’t fit in.’ His moved back towards the safety of the couch. ‘I made that decision years ago.’
‘Your career? Your decision?’ repeated Bella, as she looked out the glass door at the Tindarra Mountains. Tears started to run down her cheeks. ‘But I wanted kids, Warren,’ she said.
He looked up towards the ceiling. ‘I know. And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I was frightened you’d leave me.’
‘But these things can be reversed, can’t they?’
‘Yes they can, but there’s only a fifty–fifty chance of it working.’ Warren sat down again and drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. He pulled at a frayed thread for a few moments before giving up. ‘But, Bella, I don’t want to have it reversed. That’s why I had the procedure done in the first place. I don’t want children.’
‘But . . . I do!’
‘It sounds like you’re getting what you want then.’ His tone was wry, as he turned his head up to the ceiling again, absently counting the cracks in the plaster overhead. ‘Who’s the father, anyway?’
He didn’t get an answer in return.
‘Mmm . . . well . . . that’s it, I guess.’ He gave up on the cracks and yawned widely, his perfect orthodontic teeth closing with a snap. ‘I’m off to bed. I’ll call into that damned rodeo you’re going to tomorrow afternoon.’ He visibly shuddered before going on. ‘I’ll catch up with Trinity and then head back to Melbourne.’
He got up off the couch and faced Bella. She had swiped the tears from her face with her flannelette shirt sleeve and now stood red-eyed but proud and defiant, despite feeling like shit.
‘Something’s different about you, Bella, something I can’t put my finger on. You’ve changed.’
Bella lifted her chin, lapis eyes flashing a challenge. ‘I haven’t changed, Warren, not at all. I’m just becoming myself.’
‘Right.’ Warren looked totally out of his depth. ‘Anyhow, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Goodnight, Bella.’ As he walked past her, Warren hesitated before reaching out a hand. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, regret racing across his face. She shied from his stroke and turned to the mountains, which she could see standing guard in the moonlight through the glass.
She stood there long after he had gone. Arms wrapped around her belly, cradling the new life growing inside, she tried to work out how she felt.
If Warren wasn’t the baby’s father, then Will was. And she knew exactly what he thought about fatherhood. His words the night of their dinner together came back to her loud and clear. ‘But I couldn’t ever be a father, seeing the pain and grief the death of a ch
ild can bring on their parents.’
How was it that the two men who could have fathered her baby didn’t want to have children?
But on the tail of that thought came another realisation: at least she didn’t have to return to Warren – a man she didn’t love – or to a city she couldn’t abide and a life that wasn’t her own.
Even if he was the father, you didn’t have to go back there. You can make it on your own, Hells Bells, you and the bub alone.
I know, she whispered back to Patty. I’m just relieved it’s done. It’s all over with Warren and I have no ties to him. No ties at all.
Chapter 38
The ‘Tearin’ Down the Mountain’ ute nosed its way into Maggie’s yard the next morning, and Shelley Lukey piled out of the passenger seat. Macca climbed from the driver’s side and then a tall, auburn-haired female slid onto the ground beside him.
‘Hi, Bella!’ called Shelley through the open lounge window, waving with vigour.
Bella waved meekly in return. She had been trying to get rid of Warren for the last half-hour, and Jelly Bean Lukey was not what she needed right now. She had been reminding Warren that he hated rodeos, but he was determined to see Trinity before he headed home. He moved to the window, taking in the rotund little figure.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Warren. ‘And that . . . and that?’ He pointed at the other two.
‘You remember my cousin Macca, from Trin and Caro’s wedding? The girl in pink is Shelley; she was at the wedding too. And the third one? I’ll be buggered if I know.’
Bella left Warren alone in the house and ran down the path towards her cousin. ‘Macca, how the bloody hell are you? Where did you come from?’ She threw herself into his arms. ‘When did you get in from Mount Isa?’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ Macca roared back, catching up to his cousin and trying to turn her around with equal glee. ‘Shit, you’ve got heavy, you big heifer, what’s Maggie left you to graze on? You’ll turn into a fat cow!’
Bella whacked him over the arm. ‘Put me down, you big oaf! And I’ll have you know, I’m cooking for myself. What are you doing back?’
‘Now that’s no way to talk to your dearest, darling cousin, who you haven’t seen for months!’ Macca put Bella gently on her feet and reached back to draw in the red-headed girl at his side.
‘Bella, meet my fiancée, Sarah. Sarah, this is Hells Bells. But she’s not as mean as she looks, mind you, her bark’s worse than her bite!’
‘Who are you referring to, Sarah or me?’ Bella replied cheekily, as she stuck out her hand to the girl. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
Then she suddenly realised what Macca had said. ‘Did you say fiancée?’
Shelley started to giggle.
‘Yep, that’s what I said,’ replied Macca, as he cuddled Sarah into his side. ‘That’s why I’ve come home, for Sarah to meet the family. But I made sure I had a ring on her finger before I came anywhere near you mad bastards down here.’
‘Who are you calling a mad bastard, you big, ugly shit?’ asked Bella, with a wide grin.
‘Probably me,’ said a new voice. Will O’Hara walked into the circle, to stand next to Shelley.
‘I didn’t hear you pull up.’ Bella was taken aback to see him standing there.
‘I walked.’
And he’d obviously noted the Merc in the drive and knew Warren was here.
Bella pulled her thoughts back to her cousin standing there with his intended bride. ‘Well, congratulations to you both,’ she said, giving them each a hug. She took Sarah’s arm to lead her away – far, far away from where Will stood still staring at her with a shuttered look on his face.
‘Come with me, Sarah, and we’ll grab everyone a drink before we head to the rodeo. The beer fridge is on the verandah. You can tell me how you met Macca. Are you really sure you want to marry that boofhead?’
A round of drinks later with no sign of Warren appearing from the house, Bella finally said a proper hello to Shelley. In all the excitement of seeing her cousin and hearing his news, she’d been rude and wanted to make up for it, so she sat on the ute tray beside the younger girl and enquired about her baby and the joys of new motherhood.
‘It’s hard. I never thought it would be so difficult. But then the baby smiles up at you and you forget the sore and leaking boobs, nights without sleep and a pudding baby belly you’ve got to somehow get rid of while being on call twenty-four–seven. And then there’s Joe. He wants his bit of you too and somehow you have to find the energy. It’s hard,’ she said again with a sad smile.
Bella felt for the girl. Things obviously weren’t as she had expected. ‘But anyway, everyone’s pitching in to help.’ Shelley seemed to force her tone to sound bright. ‘Mum and Dad said they’d have the bub for the morning. You know, just so I could get out on my own for a while. So here I am! Macca and Sarah offered to give me a lift seeing they were coming out anyway to visit you and Will. Joe and me are heading to the rodeo this arvie too.’
Bella realised how Shelley had rolled her name in with Will’s. They ran together nicely, ‘Will and Bella’, ‘Bella and Will’. She shook her head and forced her attention back to Shelley, who had uncharacteristically lowered her voice.
‘So you’re expecting a baby too?’ Shelley whispered.
‘How did you find out?’
‘Oh, Mildred Vincent-Prowse came in the store yesterday morning. She was telling all and sundry about your wicked ways!’ Shelley quietly chuckled while shooting a furtive look in Will’s direction.
He was talking to Macca and taking no notice of the girls.
Shelley grinned conspiratorially at Bella. ‘I told her to put a sock in it. She can bloody well talk. Look at her daughter!’
‘You didn’t?’ Bella looked at Shelley with admiration.
‘Yes I did. And I told her at least you’re engaged!’ Shelley paused for a second and then went on. ‘Not like her bloody daughter, who’s just shacked up with a nob after pissing off on a husband, a hunky one at that!’ Shelley glanced across at Will again.
‘So, what happened then?’ asked Bella astounded. Mildred was a customer, for heaven’s sake.
‘She turned tail and ran. Bloody old bat. I’m sick of gossiping crones like her. The bush telegraph is the worst thing about living in this place. Although I guess if Joe was ever thinking of having an affair, I’d know about it before he did.’ Shelley giggled.
Bella put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. ‘Thanks for sticking up for me, Shell. It really means a lot.’
‘Oh, that’s okay,’ said Shelley, with a blush staining her apple cheeks. ‘I like you, Bella. I always have . . . Well . . . I mean, I never actually knew you but I’d heard all about you . . . and I guess I liked what I heard. You and Patty O’Hara were kinda my role models. I always wished I had the gumption to be as strong, independent and free, like you two.’
Strong? Independent? Free? Good Lord, what next? Bella gave Shelley’s shoulders a comforting squeeze. ‘Oh, Shelley, you’re doing just fine.’
In Bella’s mind Patty’s voice came through loud and clear. Role models, hey? Next thing, they’ll be saying I’m a bloody saint!
‘Anyways,’ said Shelley, raising her voice back to its normal level. ‘The Merc belong to your fiancé, does it? He rang the shop, you know, to see where you were. I told him but then after he hung up I wondered if I’d done the right thing?’ Bella looked at Shelley, whose freckled features still glowed red. ‘I sometimes go on a bit much, Joe tells me, you see. Mouth just runs away with me and . . . well . . . I get a bit lonely, I guess.’
Bella didn’t have the heart to reproach the girl. ‘No, it was fine. Just a misunderstanding between two people who should have known better.’ She patted Shelley’s knee. ‘He’s not my fiancé anymore, by the way . . . Oh, that’s okay!’ she rushed on at the girl’s distraught face. ‘We aren’t suited to each other. He wants one thing, I want something else. He’s going home after the rodeo.’
Will looke
d up from his beer. She hadn’t realised he was now listening. He stared questioningly at her over Shelley’s head, then glanced towards the house as the screen door banged open.
The man in question appeared from the dark confines of Maggie’s home, and Bella was forced to introduce him.
‘Warren, do you remember my cousin Macca? This is his fiancée Sarah, and this is Shelley, who I believe you’ve spoken to at the shop.’ Bella congratulated herself. She did that well. Not one ounce of recrimination. She just had to get through the next bit. Forcing her voice to sound neutral, although painfully aware it came out slightly breathless, she said, ‘And this is my neighbour, Will O’Hara. He lives just down the track.’
Warren dismissed the first three with a brief glance, homing in on the rugged man Bella had just introduced. He was leaning slightly to the right, his hand clasped around a green can of beer.
‘Gidday,’ said Will in a deep voice. His tone was clear. He didn’t care either way whether he scrubbed up or not.
Macca wasn’t brought up to be so reserved. ‘You were at Trin’s weddin’, weren’t ya? We weren’t formally introduced. So, you from the city, are ya, mate?’
‘Yes, I originally came from England ten years ago, but now I live in Melbourne.’
‘Mmm, righto. I reckon I’d trade those grey Pommy skies for Aussie sunshine any day too. Whadaya do for a crust in the big smoke?’
‘I’m an investment banker with Oxford, Bride and Associates. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?’ Warren was smirking as he asked.
‘Nah, can’t say I have,’ responded Macca, picking up on Warren’s sarcasm.
‘And what do you do, Macca, to earn a buck in . . . um . . . Mount Isa, wasn’t it?’ asked Warren.
‘A buck?’ said Macca, playing the drongo.
‘Yes. What. Do. You. Do. For. A. Living?’ Warren drew the sentence out as if Macca were a dunce.
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