by Mandy Magro
‘You’ll learn I like to tell it how it is.’
‘I’m learning quickly,’ Matilda replied playfully. ‘So do you see Pippa around town?’
‘Yeah, she makes herself known every time she’s anywhere near me. She wants us to get back together and swears it was a huge mistake she would never make again. As much as I’d like to give in and say yes, in my eyes a leopard never changes its spots. Once burnt, twice shy and all that stuff.’
‘True, how about Kevin?’
‘Yeah, nah, he doesn’t want to get back with me.’ Ryan flashed her a playful grin.
She matched it with another of her own. ‘I mean do you and him ever see each other?’
‘Yeah, on the rare occasion … he’s a cocky bastard without much of a conscience. He still has the audacity to call over to our place whenever he likes, to borrow bits and pieces, and Dad lets him get away with being an arrogant arse because he doesn’t want to cause a rift between himself and Kevin’s father, George.’
‘It certainly wouldn’t be easy, and it’s a bit unfair of your dad to expect that in the first place really.’
Ryan shrugged as he stared out the windscreen of the truck. ‘That’s Dad—he deals with things by pretending they never happened. We tend not to see eye to eye on a lot of things.’
‘Well, if it counts for anything, I reckon this place is a nirvana and Kevin missed out, big time. Who wouldn’t want to call it home?’
‘Thanks, Tilly, that means a lot. While it might not be much to some, to me, Heartsong is everything.’
‘Is that the name of the place, Heartsong?’
‘Yep, I picked it because this place makes my heart sing.’ He shrugged. ‘Sounds a little corny, I know, but I like it.’
‘Nope, doesn’t sound corny at all … I love it.’ She couldn’t help but admire Ryan’s depth—she’d never met a man quite like him. The name certainly suited this land. It was blissful, untainted and wrapped in so much natural beauty that Matilda felt as though she’d died and gone to heaven.
Ryan slowed down and they drove alongside a paddock where four stunning horses swished their tails as they watched the truck idle past.
‘The horses, are they all yours?’
‘The two bays are and the palomino; the old appaloosa is my dad’s. He moved him down here for retirement.’ Two-way static filled the cab. Ryan reached down and turned off the UHF. ‘Can you ride?’
‘Sure can. I did a little bit of mustering at the station too, when my boyfriend would let me, and I loved it.’
‘Well, feel free to take any of them for a ride while you’re here—they’re all friendly. The appaloosa can be a bit cantankerous in his old age but he means well.’
‘Thanks, I’d really like that.’ Matilda sighed softly. ‘No wonder you’re so happy to be home, it’s absolutely beautiful here.’ Her words drifted off as she caught a glimpse of the homestead up ahead of the long gravel drive, spotlighted in the truck’s headlights.
‘Yep, it’s my world away from everyone and everything. My little hideaway.’
From what Matilda could see his home was very charming, a Queenslander-style house with wide wrap-around verandahs. As they drove closer she spotted an inviting hammock that took pride of place out the front, strung securely between two verandah posts. She imagined what it would be like lying in it with a good book, and contentment filled her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d read. It was one of her favourite pastimes but Troy hated her doing anything that didn’t involve focusing all her attention on him.
A wisp of wind blew strands of hair across her face and Matilda tucked them back behind her ears. The gentle breeze carried with it the distant bellow of cattle mingled with the calming cling-clangs of wind chimes. Coming closer to the cottage, she could see a row of chimes lined along the front easement. She loved the sounds they created; for some reason they always took her to a magical place. As Ryan turned towards a massive shed the headlights illuminated the front garden and it was lush and colourful and, much to her surprise, well looked after.
‘Do you have people who look after the place while you’re away?’
‘Yeah, my mum and Jake take turns checking on it and my mum, being an avid gardener, she keeps the gardens looking nice. I’ve told her not to worry about it but she says it helps her to relax, and it gets her away from Dad and Jake for a while where she can think in peace.’ He pointed to a rise. ‘They only live over that ridge so it’s not too far for her to come.’
‘That must be nice, living so close to them, especially seeing as you’re super close to Samara.’
‘Yeah, it can be, but it also means you don’t get a lot of privacy as they call in at the drop of a hat. Mum at least has the decency to knock, but Jake has a tendency to walk straight in. He’s caught me butt naked a number of times.’
Matilda laughed, and then frowned. ‘Do you tend to be naked a lot around the house?’
Ryan grinned like a naughty child. ‘I like to take advantage of living alone and don’t have to worry about getting dressed to walk from the bedroom to the toilet or bathroom, or to grab a drink from the fridge. But don’t worry, I won’t be doing that while you’re here.’
Matilda flashed him a cautious look. ‘That’s good to hear, because I was starting to think I’d have to renege on the whole staying here thing.’
‘There’ll be no need. I’m very gentlemanly when there are women folk about.’ Ryan’s bad attempt at a posh accent made Matilda crack a smile. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters, Tilly?’
‘Nope, it’s just me, and now my mother’s gone I have no family left.’
‘What, no grandparents, or uncles or aunts or cousins?’
‘None that I know of.’
‘I can’t imagine what that would be like.’
Gently pushing Huckleberry from her lap, Matilda began to pull her boots back on. ‘It’s not that bad. I don’t know anything else, so it feels normal to me.’
Now awake, Huckleberry climbed up on the seat and cautiously made his way over towards Ryan. Ryan patted his lap, giving Huckleberry the go ahead, then pulled into the open-sided shed and parked. Throwing his arms around Huckleberry to calm him a little, he turned to Matilda, his smile glowing more than ever.
‘Well, while you’re here, you can share my family, if you like. As weird and disjointed we can be, we all mean well. You’ll love them. And I know they’ll love you as soon as they meet you too. You’ll feel like one of us in no time.’
‘I’m not too sure I’ll want much to do with Kevin after what he’s done to you, but I’ll take up your offer on the rest of them.’ Matilda smiled as she choked down a lump of emotion—this man was way too nice. She hesitated but then reached out and placed her hand over Ryan’s now resting on Huckleberry’s head. ‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘What do you mean, what for? For everything you’re doing for me. I’m not used to a man being so kind all the time.’ Just by touching him she somehow felt safer, but with the warmth turning into more of a spark, she quickly brought her hand back to her lap for fear of Ryan feeling it too. She didn’t want to give him any mixed signals.
Ryan seemed unruffled. ‘You better get used to it, Tilly, because I treat women with respect.’ He gave Huckleberry a gentle tousle and the dog responded with a playful bark. ‘That goes for you too, buddy. I don’t know what either of you have been through or come across along your travels, and I gather by the look of you both it hasn’t been too good, but we take care of people and animals around these parts.’
Padding down the darkened hallway with a glass of water in hand, Ryan tossed the sleeping tablet into his mouth and took a gulp. He didn’t take sedatives while out on the road, so he was looking forward to it giving him a reprieve from the images that always seemed to take over as soon as he lay down to try to sleep. With Tilly having gone to bed half an hour ago, he made sure to step over the places in the floorboards he knew creaked. He couldn’t help b
ut stop at her bedroom door. She had fallen asleep with it ajar and her bedside lamp alight. He wondered if she’d done that on purpose, to make her feel safer. His heart sank with the realisation he was probably right. He felt for her, having gone through whatever it was that had left her so battered, and not only on her skin. This was too close to home—it could be his sister all over again.
Ryan had tried to do as Regan had asked—to stay the hell out of her business. And she had lost her life because he had done just that, so if it came to it, he wouldn’t hold back this time round. No matter the cost, no matter if he ended up back in court, he’d save Tilly’s life.
Believing very strongly in higher powers, he trusted there was a reason Tilly-no-last-name had been brought to him, as if this were his chance for redemption. He was prepared to do whatever he could to help her and he’d start by asking his best mate, Ben—the town mechanic—to tow Tilly’s four-wheel drive in, repair it, and then Ryan would surprise her with it. Living on the outskirts of town she would need some form of transport. Although he didn’t mind her borrowing his Landcruiser, he had a feeling she’d rather be independent.
Unable to take his gaze from her, he stood silently and listened to her quiet rhythmic breathing. It was nice to see her at peace, if only for now. As much as he wouldn’t admit it out loud, for fear of scaring her away, he couldn’t deny her beauty, inside and out. More than once he had wanted to claim her lips in a hungry kiss and now he felt slightly ashamed for even thinking it. He didn’t want to lust after her, preferring to stay as friends so she could build her trust in him and so he could help her heal. But he was a man, and he found Tilly attractive. Very attractive. Too much. She didn’t need any more complications, though, and his whole life was one big complicated mess. Hell, he was still trying to heal after what Pippa had done to him. So no matter how much he wanted to kiss Tilly’s hurt away, he couldn’t, wouldn’t allow himself to. Stepping over the line would spell disaster with a capital D. They were both too broken to be anything other than friends.
Taking another swig from his glass, Ryan leant against the doorframe. In her pyjamas and curled into a ball on her side, Tilly had a pillow clutched in her arms. Her wild red hair still damp from her shower was splayed as if carefully placed around her pretty face. She would need something over her bare legs now the night was cooling off, so he went to the linen closet and grabbed a spare blanket. Tiptoeing back down the hall and into the bedroom he gently placed it over her. She stirred a little, rolled onto her back and then over to her other side, taking the pillow with her. He stood deathly still and dared not breathe; she needed to rest. Part of him wanted to crawl into bed with her, not for anything more than to hold her in his arms as she slept. Heaven help him, he was attracted to her, big time.
Huckleberry looked up from where he was sleeping on an old rug in the corner of the room. His tail began to wag and tap the timber floorboards loudly as his jowls turned upwards into a doggy smile. Grimacing, Ryan walked quietly over to him and placed his finger to his lips to shush him. Crouching down he gave him a pat.
‘You smell much better after your bath in the laundry sink, mister. I bet you feel so much better after that big feed too,’ he whispered as he laid a hand over Huck’s thumping tail. ‘Tomorrow I’ll show you around the place a bit more and then on Saturday I’ll take you over and introduce you to the other fur kid at Mum and Dad’s. But for now you need to quietly watch over your mistress, okay?’
Huckleberry swiped his tongue up Ryan’s arm and then curled back into a ball with his head tucked beneath his paws, as if trying to ward off the light from the lamp.
‘I’d turn it off, Huck, but I reckon she needs it on tonight.’
Ryan walked out of the room and down the hallway to the luxury of his king-size bed. Switching off his bedside lamp, he enjoyed the feeling of total darkness. Climbing under the covers, he sighed like he’d been holding his breath for an eternity and the feeling of his bone-weary body sinking into his mattress was absolute bliss. Getting his pillow comfy under his aching neck, he closed his eyes while trying not to think about the bruises on Tilly’s beautiful face, or the cut on her throat, or the tears in her soulful eyes. But try as he might, that’s all he could think about until he eventually drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER
5
His body blocked the doorway of the camp kitchen, the look of rage in his eyes was one she had seen way too many times. Terror claimed her as she spotted the switchblade in his hand. There was no one to help her. Everybody else had already left for the muster. She frantically searched for a way out. But like every other time he felt like laying into her there was no escape. He reached out for her, laughing sadistically.
‘Get away from me,’ she screamed as she tried to shove him off. He stumbled a little then stepped towards her, growing more menacing by the second. His breath reeked of rum. He wrapped one of his big hands around her throat and pushed her up against the wall. Then her feet were off the floor and she was fighting to breathe. She tried to free herself from his vice-like grip by kicking, punching and scratching at his face, but he held on tight, his eyes drilling into hers as he spat at her. He was so damn big and so damn strong she didn’t stand a chance. She was getting dizzy, short of breath, and she closed her eyes, wishing for death so she could finally be free. So she could be with her mum on the other side, the only person who had ever loved her unconditionally. But then he threw her to the floor, smashing her back to reality. It left her disorientated. Before she had time to move he was on top of her, his knees painfully digging into her stomach as he held the knife to her throat.
Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes, and then her familiar voice was telling Matilda to fight. A rush of survival filled her. She had promised her mother she would take her back to her happy place, and if she had to she would rather die trying to fulfil that promise than give up. She spotted the frypan where he had tossed it to the floor in a fit of rage because she’d accidentally burnt the bacon, the food now scattered across the worn lino. She saw the yolk of an upturned egg oozing onto the floor and imagined it would be her blood if he pushed the blade any further into her flesh. She had to do something, and fast. She stretched her arm out as far as it would go, her fingertips grappling for the handle of the heavy cast-iron pan. Hope filled her as she got a firm grip, the heat of it making her flinch only for a moment. A burn would heal, a slice to her throat wouldn’t. She found a strength she never knew she had and brought it down onto the back of his head, thankful he was too drunk for quick reflexes. The sound was bone crushing and without even a cry of pain he collapsed on top of her, his body limp and unmoving. She screamed in panic and rolled him off her. Blood trickled from the back of his head and pooled by his cheek.
Jumping to her feet in seconds, she ran to the bedroom, grabbed her backpack and shoved the contents of the top drawer and some clothes and shoes into it, making sure to pack her mum’s ashes and the photo she had of her on the dresser. And then she ran, as fast as she could. As she climbed into the driver’s seat of his Landcruiser she felt herself dropping into a deep dark abyss, and she was crying out for someone to help her, to stop her falling, to catch her …
Matilda woke with a jolt. Her eyes flew open. Covered in sweat, she was having trouble catching her breath. Her entire body tingled and yet her legs and fingers were numb. A sob escaped her and she began to shake violently as the nightmare fuelled the panic attack threatening to take complete hold of her. She needed to stop it but her mind felt as though it were spinning out of control.
Where was she?
The soft light spilling from a lamp was a godsend. Trying to come to grips with the panic attack, her eyes focused on a painting of a cowboy riding off into the sunset, the same painting she had gazed at as she’d fallen asleep. Then she remembered she was at Heartsong, safe and sound, and in one piece. Her breathing beginning to follow some sort of rhythm, she brought her hands to her thumping chest. Reminding herself of the steps s
he’d learnt from the anxiety program—to demand more, acknowledge the sensations and embrace them like an old friend. With that she slowly began to regain control over her body, and mind. She also gathered comfort knowing that Ryan was just down the hall, Huckleberry was asleep beside her bed and she was far, far away from Shadow Creek Station and Troy. Thank God.
Sitting up, she glanced at the glowing clock on the bedside table. It was 3:17 am. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed she stood up, a blanket falling to the floor. She didn’t recall it being there when she’d collapsed in a weary heap. Warmth filled her with the realisation that Ryan must have put it over her, and noticing that he had left the lamp on meant he got where she was and what she needed to feel safe. It was the little things like that which meant the world to her—a simple kind gesture, a caring action, for someone to stop and think about her.
Huckleberry stirred from his rug and came to her side. Sitting at her feet, he looked up with compassionate eyes as though understanding her pain. Crouching down, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his, gaining some strength from him. She kissed him on the cheek. He responded with a lick to hers. Her heart swelled. So much love in such a short amount of time—she wasn’t used to it.
Standing up, she went to her backpack. Unzipping the front pocket, she pulled out the silk-wrapped ornate timber box that held what was left of her mother. It would be a bittersweet moment, letting her go completely. Hugging it to her chest, Matilda walked to where a sliver of moonlight shone through the parted curtains and peered out. Heartsong rolled out before her, lit up as if by candlelight. After becoming accustomed to the arid lands of Central Australia, the lush paddocks here were breathtakingly beautiful. What was it that had brought her to this place? Was it by accident or did fate have something to do with it? A hippy at heart, she couldn’t help but look at it all through mystical eyes, a trait she had inherited from her mother. Was she silly in believing that everything had a deeper meaning, or was it simply because? Her shoulders lifted gently in reply. Whatever the reason, she was thankful. She looked to the flickering stars dusted across the velvety black and imagined heaven beyond that. Then silently, she thanked her mother for sending not one angel but two to take care of her, Huckleberry and Ryan, as heavy tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.