by Pat Warren
It was eerily quiet except for the rustle of a few night birds and a skittering furry little animal.
Tish walked down the barren plains, the moonlight showing the way. Silently Jeff followed. She’d created this scenario and he very much wanted to know where it would lead. After a few minutes, she stopped and turned, leaning against a tall rock. She waited until he came up to her. Again she looked long and hard in his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Jeff.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Maybe this wasn’t smart, maybe he’d get hurt all over again, but he had to tell her the truth.
“I owe you an explanation.” She paused, as if waiting for him to contradict her, but when he didn’t, she went on. “I had to leave, Jeff. I was in such a depression. I felt as if I’d let you down, let myself down, the—the baby. Everything. I was going crazy in that apartment, day after day, never anything to look forward to except a couple of hours with you when you so obviously needed sleep. Better women than me have seen their husbands through a hospital residency, but apparently I couldn’t handle the stress, especially after losing the baby.”
He didn’t know how to answer that, so he kept still.
Tish stared at the buttons of his shirt visible in the open folds of his jacket rather than at his face as she drew in a breath. “I don’t know if you can understand, but Jeff, I felt as if I were losing me, the person I was, and the one I wanted to be. You had your work, the hospital, people there you knew well. I had no one to talk to who would understand. I—I maybe should have talked more to you, but I felt so damn guilty.” There was a catch in her voice.
Jeff slipped his arms around her waist. “It’s all right. I should have been more understanding.”
“No, it wasn’t you. It was me.” She paused a moment, her hands on his shirt, moving restlessly. “I never stopped loving you, Jeff. Not one day. I—”
Her words were cut off by his mouth capturing hers. The kiss carried so much pent-up emotion, trying to erase the pain of the past. He felt like he’d come home, like she was once more his, like a man who’d found a vital missing part of his being.
“Tish, I love you, too. So very much.”
“Show me, Jeff. I’ve missed you every day, every night.”
He backed her up to the boulder behind her, then he lowered his head to her breast, drawing deeply, savagely, through the material of her blouse. The wild heat spread downward until he had her writhing and twisting under his relentless onslaught.
Jeff was driven, beyond slow loving, moving beyond gentle. He wanted to convince her they belonged together despite their differences. He wanted to brand her, make her his forever. Needs pounded at him fiercely as he ripped her blouse down the front, felt the buttons scatter, and then he feasted on her. He heard her cry out, her breath coming in ragged spurts, and he recognized not fear, not pain, but shocked pleasure.
His fingers fumbled to open his jeans, then shoved her slacks down and off her trembling legs. Her chest was heaving now and her hands gripped his shoulders. His blood swam hot and tormented as he struggled to free himself. His fingers found her and he heard her cry out, a strangled sound.
He was on the verge of exploding, but he paused, breathing hard. This was Tish, the woman he loved more than his life, the one he needed more than his next breath. He looked at her in the moonlight, a question in his eyes.
The expression on her damp face was utterly female. “I want you inside me, now.”
The words he’d been waiting to hear. With one fierce thrust, he was inside her, anchoring her legs around his body, feeling her heels dig in. He closed his eyes on the sheer pleasure of it, the incredible beauty of it. She was exactly where he’d been wanting her, where he’d been dreaming of her, here with him.
He began to move, wildly, ruthlessly. In a frenzy of need, he pounded into her, his body braced against hers. Her breathing was as ragged as his own as she climbed with him. Her release came quickly, fueled by her emotions, driven by an urgency like neither had known before.
Finally, she shuddered and she relaxed against him. Only then did Jeff allow himself to follow.
Chapter 12
Jeff took a long swallow of water from the bottle he’d brought into Tish’s ICU room earlier. Mentally recalling their time together in Australia had drained him.
Yet it had also energized him. “Remember how we’d snuck back to the ranch house with your jacket zipped up to your chin because of the buttons you’d lost from your blouse when I’d ripped it open, honey? Good thing the agents in the sitting room couldn’t see a thing when we walked in, because your face was flushed and probably mine was, too. It would have been a dead giveaway.” He smiled at the memory.
“I was so happy and I think you were, too. We spent the next whole day together, remember? I do, every minute. I think we fell in love all over again that day. I can picture us laughing as we fixed a thermos of hot coffee, then we grabbed our jackets, borrowed one of the four-wheel drives and headed out to explore. What a day that was….”
Tish gazed up at the cloudless sky, the sun just peeking over the dry, sparse plains. She shivered a little because it was quite cool, but the nip in the air felt good. Turning her head, she smiled at Jeff. “This was a good idea.”
“Yeah, I have one once in a while.” He grinned at her, glad to be here with her, glad to be alive. The memory of their lovemaking last night in the moonlight danced in his mind and had his eyes warming. He reached over and took her hand, wishing the Jeep had a bench seat instead of buckets so he could draw her closer.
“More than one, I’d say,” Tish answered, a blush coloring her cheeks as she, too, recalled last evening. “I couldn’t go to sleep for hours. I kept thinking about you, reliving our…horseback ride.”
He laughed at her choice of words. “Me, too.” Jeff turned down a deserted road. “I have no idea where this leads since I’ve never been in Australia before.”
“Me, either, but I feel adventurous. Let’s explore, go where the road takes us.”
He squeezed her fingers, then let go to hold the wheel with both hands as they bumped along the rutted path. They rode for some time in silence. Now that they’d left the outback behind, the landscape here was lovely with lush hills and the occasional farmhouse and barn nestled in a valley. It was all so different from home.
Tish was different, too, Jeff couldn’t help thinking. The quiet, sad woman who’d sat staring at the four walls for days after the miscarriage had been replaced by the mischievous, bold lover who’d been as hungry for him as he’d been for her. Maybe there was a chance that they could overcome the past and start all over again.
“Oh, Jeff, look over there,” she said excitedly, pointing off to the right as they rounded a bend. “Aren’t they adorable?”
There were sheep, not just a few but what looked like fifty or more sprinkled over the green, green hillside. Some were grazing, others lying down, and still more just standing along the fence line and staring at them as they passed by. With the blue sky backdrop, the scene looked like a painting.
“I’m not sure I’d call them adorable,” Jeff said, slowing down, “but they are picturesque.” He pulled off the dirt path close to the fence and almost before he’d come to a full stop, Tish was out. He watched her climb onto the first rung of the short fence and heard her call to the nearest sheep as he got out.
Propping one booted foot next to hers, he leaned on the top rung of the fence. “I don’t think sheep come when you call them. I’ve read they’re not the brightest of farm animals.”
No sooner had he said that than a sheep that looked to be quite young ambled over closer to where Tish held out her hand. “I wish I had something to offer him. What do sheep eat?”
“Grass and they have plenty of that all around them,” Jeff answered drily.
As they watched, a lively dog came bounding over, a brownish blur looking to be a cross between a small collie and a terrier, certainly an odd mix. Quickly, he got between the wandering sheep and the
intruders on the fence and shooed his young charge back to the herd, but not before tossing them a look that seemed to say, get back. Running again, he raced up the nearest hill and guided another meandering sheep back to join the others.
“Busy little guy, isn’t he?” Jeff commented.
“He sure told me,” Tish said, smiling as she climbed back down. “Hands off, clear as day.” Frowning, she studied the sheep nearest them. “What do you suppose those marking on their rump mean?”
Jeff saw that some sheep had a bright spot of blue tinted on the gray-white of their coat in the vicinity of the rump and others had pink. A very few had yellow markings. “I imagine the obvious answer would be that blue is for boys and pink for girls, eh?”
“And yellow is for…?” she asked, turning to him.
“The undecided.” He pointed to where six or seven sheep seemed to huddle together. “See those with blue markings? All guys, probably secretly smoking cigars. No pink butts allowed.”
“Chauvinistic sheep. I love it.”
Tish laughed as she gazed about. “It’s so lovely here, so quiet and peaceful. It seems a world apart from New York or even smaller cities. Not even at Red Rock did you get this feeling of tranquility.”
“I agree. It’s like I imagine rural areas of the States were back in the forties.” Jeff gazed down the road where a large, two-story farmhouse sat, painted white with a picket fence that looked to be more for show than to keep anyone out, plus the obligatory barn painted red nearby. A farmer in blue jeans and plaid shirt was walking toward the field.
As they watched, the farmer put his fingers to his mouth and let out a series of whistles that echoed through the quiet hills. Suddenly the little dog went into action, running this way and that, shepherding the sheep toward the corral where the farmer stood.
“Look at that, will you?” Jeff commented as the farmer changed his tune and the dog ran to the far side where a stray had wandered and in moments had that sheep headed toward the rest. Running from side to side and back, in no time the dog had the sheep slowly trailing into captivity. “Remarkable.”
“Could we go down and talk to that man?” Tish asked. “I’m dying to know what those colored markings are.”
“I don’t see why not,” Jeff answered, getting back in the Jeep. “The people here seem really friendly.”
In minutes, they’d pulled into the wide drive and walked over to the man who held open the gate as the last of the sheep mosied in. He glanced toward the young couple, a mildly curious expression on his round face.
“’G’day,” the man said before Jeff could speak. “Nice weather, eh?”
“Yes, it sure is. I’m Jeff and this is Tish. We were out for a drive when we saw your sheep.” He shifted his gaze to the dog who stood next to the farmer as the gate swung shut. “That’s quite a talented dog you have there.”
“That he is. Jimbo’s the best sheep dog I ever had.” The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Cyrus.”
Jeff shook his hand as Tish stepped closer. “I’ve been wondering, what do the colorful markings on the sheep mean, Cyrus?” she asked.
Cyrus chuckled and tipped back his large brimmed hat. “Them’s grading marks. Early on, we separate sheep as to what type they are, whether we’ll use ’em for sheering, the ones with good thick coats year after year. Or the ones who’ll be best for market. Mutton, you know.”
“I see. But you’ve got three different colors.”
“Yup, we do. Yellow’s for the older sheep. Their coats aren’t good for selling any more and they’re too tough for table meat. Trouble is, I can’t bring myself to butcher ’em, you know. Sentimental old fool, the wife calls me.”
“I think you’re very kind,” Tish said and reached to shake his hand.
“Would you like to come in, have some tea? We’ve always got a pot steeping.”
“That’s very nice of you, but we’d best be on our way. Thanks, Cyrus.” His hand at her back, Jeff led Tish back to the Jeep. Waving at the farmer, they drove off, noticing that the dog was resting now that his work was done for the morning.
“I think I could live here in this quiet village,” Jeff said some time later as the Jeep rambled down the dry plains. More farms and sheep lay before them on both sides of the road for miles ahead. “Except that I’m an American through and through, I’d like this life one day. When I’m older, of course.” He glanced over at Tish who had her eyes straight ahead, looking pensive. “What do you think?”
“Could I live here, you mean? I think I could, if not here then someplace similar. In retirement, perhaps.” She turned to study Jeff’s profile. “You’d be content being a small-town doctor?”
He twined his fingers with hers. “If you were with me.” She’d been ready to give up SPEAR when she’d learned she was pregnant. Maybe they would be better off somewhere away from the madding crowd. Tish was more relaxed in a country atmosphere, as she’d been at Red Rock. But what about East and all he owed him? And SPEAR, the people who’d invested in his education expecting to be paid back by his becoming a medvac specialist?
Jeff sighed. Why was life so damned complicated?
“Sometimes I feel like those sheep,” Tish said quietly, “being herded here, then guided elsewhere, at the whim of others. Then again I feel like that busy little dog, the fate of others resting on my shoulders, responsible for so many.” She ran a hand through her short hair. “It’s a dilemma, isn’t it?”
Jeff couldn’t have agreed more. “Maybe we’re all torn by forces outside ourselves, tugging us to do one thing while our hearts want us to do another. That’s man for you—and woman—never quite satisfied.”
“Want to stop and have some coffee?” Jeff asked.
“Sure.”
He pulled the Jeep under a somewhat scraggly bush of indeterminate origin and age and parked. Reaching for the thermos and cups, he also grabbed the blanket.
Once they were seated, Tish let him pour the coffee while she immersed herself in the lovely peace of the morning. Squinting, she gazed toward a small shanty not far from them. “What do you suppose that is?”
Glancing over his shoulder first, Jeff handed her a steaming cup. “That, my dear, is an outhouse. Or a privy. Take your pick.” He sipped the hot brew, welcoming the warmth, the caffeine kick.
“You’re joking! Out here, in the middle of a desert?”
“Not joking. Ron, the agent who picked me up at the airport, told me that tour buses come out this way to show the city folk what it’s like in the outback. They bring box lunches and set up tables, the whole bit. Naturally, they need a potty sooner or later. Tourists love to ‘go native,’ don’t you know.”
She smiled at his attempt at an Australian accent. “And do they sit around singing ‘Waltzing Matilda,’ too?”
“Probably.” Setting down and anchoring his cup, Jeff lay back and propped his hands under his head. With one tug on the sleeve of her jacket, he had Tish down and leaning over him, nearly spilling her coffee.
He didn’t care. He wanted her mouth on his, her heart beating against his. The kiss was at once tender and fierce, the longing on both sides very evident.
“Last night wasn’t enough for me,” Jeff told her, his hand sliding beneath her jacket, searching for and finding her breast. “I want you again. Now.”
“We can’t, not out here where anyone could come by.” But she wanted him just as much.
“Okay, how about the outhouse?” he suggested, tongue-in-cheek.
She made a face. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She snuggled down, placing her cheek on the spot over his heart. It was chilly, but Tish didn’t mind. She was always warm when she was with Jeff.
“Mmm,” he murmured, “I could stay like this forever.”
“Just a moment ago, you wanted to jump my bones.”
“Oh, I’d rise to the occasion now and then, but a man has to rest, you know.”
Tish was quiet a long while, contented. “I wonder what the rest of the world, th
ose who have no one special, are doing now?”
“Wishing they were us.”
Tish raised her head. “Do you think that…” Startled at a movement that caught her eye just past her line of vision, she sat up to look. “Oh, Jeff,” she said in a stage whisper, “look who’s found us.”
Jeff rose and saw three young kangaroos no more than a hundred feet from them. Scrambling up slowly so as not to spook them, both of them just stared. Two kangaroos were sort of wrestling or shadowboxing while the third kept trying to join in.
Suddenly, a much larger kangaroo appeared and, without a sound, herded the youngsters away.
“Let’s go see,” Tish said, creeping up quietly to get a closer look. Her eyes went wide and she couldn’t say a word. None was necessary as Jeff joined her, as awestruck as she.
There were maybe a dozen and a half kangaroos, hopping about just like they’d seen in the movies. A few were young but most were older and larger. They seemed to be interacting with one another without a sound being made between them. A rambunctious pair really got into it, but the friendly bout was broken up by a third one who seemed to be a sort of leader.
They paid scant attention to the two humans watching them, so Jeff and Tish stood still, taking it all in. “Darn, I wish I had a camera,” Tish whispered.
Later, neither could have said just how long they watched the hijinx. Then, as if to an unheard signal, the kangaroos started going farther away, until they disappeared from sight in the landscape.
“That was something to see,” Tish said as they gathered their things and made their way back to the Jeep. “I’m surprised they’re so tame. They didn’t seem a bit afraid of us.”
“Oh, I imagine the tour companies have put restrictions on the groups they bring up here so no one’s ever really bothered them,” Jeff said, getting behind the wheel.
They spent hours more driving rural roads, finally stopping at a small village, strolling to gaze into the windows of a few shops—a butcher, a pharmacy, a book store. Then they ate a hearty lamb stew served with chunky black bread in a friendly tavern, chasing it down with a dark ale.