He rapped his knuckles against the side of the tank. ‘You’ve already filled it, too.’
‘Yeah. I reversed the hoses to pump it out of the river.’
‘Terrific. We’re all set to start then.’
It was another stinking hot day. Still and sticky. The hot end of the dry season at its very worst. The kind of day that made even the most dyed-in-the-wool bush folk want to get the hell off to the coast, to dive in the cool blue surf and sip icy-cold beer or drinks that were served with little umbrellas.
Instead, Bella and Gabe lit four kilometres of fire lines and watched the grass burn up to the road, controlling the back-burn with shovels and the water tankers. It was another day of hot and dirty work, but it was important work. Grasslands were gold for graziers and they had to be protected, so they got on with the job, working as a team, just as they had at the Piccadilly dam, just as they had so many times in the past.
They were sore-eyed and smoky by the time they’d finished and they ate their lunch on a shaded shelf of rock, drinking sweetened billy tea from chipped enamel mugs, sharing Gabe’s corned beef sandwiches.
‘Have you heard from your mother and sisters?’ Bella asked. ‘Are they having a good time at Noosa?’
‘Having a ball. Hard not to at this time of year.’
‘It’s a bugger for you, though, having to stay at home over Christmas and slog it out here on your own.’ Not that either Sarah or Gabe’s mother was much help when they were home. His little sister Ellie was different. She loved getting stuck into cattle work.
Gabe shrugged. ‘I’d have to listen to Sarah raving on about the latest guy she’s crazy over.’
‘That’s her default setting, isn’t it?’
‘Seems that way.’ Gabe helped himself to a sandwich. ‘Apparently, my mother’s going out with someone, too.’
Gabe said this casually enough, but Bella thought he looked a bit worried.
‘How do you feel about that?’ she asked.
‘Fine.’ He sounded doubtful.
‘It’s not really surprising, Gabe. Your mother’s still very attractive and – and it must be hard for her on her own.’
It was strange, though, talking about other people’s relationships when they couldn’t talk about the one relationship that really mattered to her – their own.
Gabe broke off a corner of his sandwich and tossed it to George Clooney. ‘So tell me about Europe. What’s the best thing you’ve seen over there?’
As he obviously didn’t want to talk about his family, Bella accepted this rather deliberate change of tack.
What was the best thing? She thought of Flo’s bar in the beautiful Alps, the laughter and camaraderie of young people bent on having fun. She thought of the beauty of a fresh coating of snow on the ground and trees, making everything look like a wedding cake. And then, perhaps a bit late, she thought of Anton.
It felt mean to talk about snow and Alpine bars to Gabe stuck here in the outback heat.
‘This is going to sound weird,’ she said, ‘but the beautiful churches really blew me away.’
He sent her a sceptical smile. ‘What about the blokes? Aren’t European guys supposed to be super studs and sexy?’
‘Depends on your taste,’ she said quickly, hoping that Gabe hadn’t heard rumours about Anton. ‘Speaking of taste, this corned beef is terrific. Did you cook it?’
‘Yep.’ He was still watching her with a thoughtful smile. ‘Roy made the pickles.’
‘Roy? Really? The pickles are yum. What a talent.’ She was talking fast, trying to cover her discomfort. Gabe couldn’t know about Anton, could he? She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him to know. She supposed she was trying to avoid any awkwardness. ‘Roy would make someone a great wife.’
Gabe’s eyebrows lifted as he reached for another sandwich. ‘I wouldn’t mention that in his hearing.’
‘Well, no, of course not.’
‘Touchy subject.’
‘You mean Roy has a love life?’
‘Past tense. Sad story.’
Bella had never imagined the old ringer suffering from romantic heartbreak. ‘It just goes to show.’
‘Show what?’
Heartbreak happens to everyone. ‘Um . . . that you can’t judge a book by its cover.’
‘That’s certainly true.’
They lapsed into silence for a bit.
‘How’s your dad?’ Gabe asked.
Bella gave a slow shrug. ‘I certainly hope he’s getting better, but it’s hard to tell for sure. Whenever I ring he just tells me not to worry, he’s fine, but until I see him with my own eyes . . . ’
‘He’ll be grateful for the great job you’re doing here.’
She smiled, quietly pleased by the compliment. It was almost like the old times when they’d talked for hours, except that now they were skimming the surface, ducking and weaving, avoiding the obvious and searching for safe things to talk about.
‘My dad always had a lot of respect for Peter,’ Gabe said next.
‘I think it was mutual.’
‘In fact everyone in the north respects him,’ Gabe said. ‘I’ve even seen the Jensens bowing and tugging at their forelock and calling him Mr Fairburn.’
Bella blinked. The Jensens were a rough, tough mob, always picking fights in the pub. They were suspected by everyone for cattle duffing. ‘That’s a surprise,’ she said.
Gabe nodded. ‘Story Dad told me. Peter rescued their mum when she was young. Apparently ferals tried to take over the pub at Dirranbilla where Marjorie Jensen was working. Really bad types. They’d done sentences up in Darwin. And this day there was no one else around, so they pulled out the phone, served themselves beer and started smashing up bar stools. Then they started groping poor Marjorie.’
‘What happened? Don’t tell me my dad stopped them?’
Gabe smiled as he nodded. ‘One of them picked up a broken bar stool, but the story goes – quiet, laid-back Peter Fairburn walked in on them, grabbed a pool cue, stepped up and faced them both like a two-handed swordsman.’
‘Crikey.’
‘And they backed right off.’
Bella couldn’t help smiling. It matched what she knew about her dad as a peaceful man who would nevertheless stand up to bullies. ‘He never told us about it.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he? He’s not a boaster.’
‘No.’ Bella swallowed, felt nervous. After her dad’s heart attack, she had a slightly better understanding of how truly awful it had been for Gabe when his father had the accident. ‘Gabe . . . I know how close you were to your father.’
He nodded and looked solemn.
‘You two were great mates.’ Bella knew she was pushing into dangerous territory, but she sensed Gabe had moved on from his initial grief. Perhaps it would help to talk now.
Seemed Gabe shared the same view. ‘When I was a youngster I tried to copy him,’ he said quietly, staring off into the distance. ‘I always hung around him like a bad smell – when he worked on machinery or fencing, whatever. If he took his shirt off, I took mine off.’
Bella smiled, imagining it.
‘I even rolled my own smokes,’ Gabe said. ‘Copying the old man. Filled them with dried grass.’
She laughed. ‘Did he catch you?’
‘Of course. “You’re not lighting those things, are you?” he’d say. And I’d swear blind-blue that I wasn’t.’
‘But you were.’
‘Course I was. I lit up and coughed my guts out. “That’s it,” Dad said when he caught me, “I’m giving up the fags.” And he gave them up just like that, cold turkey. And never once acted as if he minded.’ Gabe’s mouth tilted sadly.
‘We’ve both been lucky with our dads,’ Bella said softly.
She’d finished her sandwich and she leaned back against the smooth rock, surprised that they’d reached this sense of close connection so quickly. ‘When you think about it, it’s so obvious that you can never judge people by their outsides, but we still do it,
don’t we?’
Gabe looked puzzled. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘From when we were talking about Roy.’ She sighed. ‘All those old sayings are true.’
Gabe smiled and regarded her with amused interest. ‘What sayings?’
‘Oh, you know – things like don’t count your chickens before they hatch.’
His smile broadened as he tossed a rosy-pink dollop of meat to George Clooney. ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.’
Bella laughed, remembering the easy banter they’d once enjoyed. ‘Actions speak louder than words.’
‘Any specific actions you had in mind?’ Suddenly Gabe was staring at her, his eyes intense as he searched her face.
Something about his expression made Bella’s already unsteady heartbeats pick up pace. ‘No. Nothing specific.’
‘Where there’s smoke there’s fire,’ Gabe said and he spoke so quietly and intently that she knew he wasn’t talking about this morning’s back-burning.
Her heart galloped.
Ever since they’d seen each other again, they’d been trying to act as if their past was behind them. Over.
Friends again. Nothing more.
But she was pretty sure Gabe was as tense and on edge as she was. And now, sitting here all alone in the precious shade, mere feet from each other and yet so far apart, it was as if a lid had been lifted on all the old yearnings. They rekindled in Bella. A thousand times.
Her imagination kicked in, making her think about closing the gap and being held by Gabe. Kissing him. Going wild with him.
Frantically she tried to remember what they were talking about. Oh, yeah, she needed another saying.
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ she blurted out.
Not a great choice. Not when she was wishing she could press her face against Gabe’s neck, not caring about their dust or sweat.
Now he was staring at her. And all she could think about was the way things used to be for them and how perfect the world was. Back then.
I mustn’t make the first move. I must NOT make the first move.
The last time she’d made a move on Gabe it had haunted and plagued her ever since, despite having retreated to the far side of the world.
‘Drastic times call for drastic measures,’ Gabe said quietly.
Bella barely heard these words. She was too aware of his hand on her shoulder, of the way he blocked the sun as he leaned into her.
She didn’t move. Couldn’t move as his fingers lightly brushed the side of her jaw, then his lips touched hers.
For a stunned second she was too surprised to react. A feeble part of her brain tried to protest. There was a very good reason why kissing Gabe was a mistake. But already her thought processes were misfiring and she couldn’t come up with a single rationale that said this kiss shouldn’t happen.
Gabe’s shirt smelled of smoke, but she didn’t mind in the least. Hers was smoky, too. Her knee knocked his enamel mug, sending it clattering to the red dirt, but neither of them so much as glanced at it.
Nothing mattered now but the heady sensation of Gabe’s lips on hers, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. Another to her top lip.
His lips were so seductive she couldn’t have pulled away, even if she’d wanted to. It was simply not possible. Not now.
Not when Gabe’s hands were on her shoulders, holding her just where he needed her while he slowly tasted her, while he teased her lips apart with his tongue and claimed her mouth totally, igniting a hot tremble inside her.
This was Gabe, after all, and he was kissing her perfectly, with the assurance of a man who knew her well. Knew her inside out, knew her triumphs and despair, knew especially how she loved to be kissed, starting sleepy and slow in a lazy burn, and steadily building, building . . . till the frantic moment when they scrambled to press close and to crush into each other as their kiss turned deep and molten.
Which was exactly what happened now.
It was so overwhelming Bella might have wept for joy, but she didn’t want to scare Gabe off, didn’t want to waste a precious second on tears.
She’d forgotten that just kissing could be so mind-blowingly sexy. Just being held by Gabe and tasting him. She wanted to kiss and kiss and kiss.
24.
Gabe knew he had to stop. Had to drag himself away from the sweet, soft curves pressed to him in all the right places. Had to do it now before he and Bella passed the point of no return.
At the very least he should have cleared the air with her first, and he certainly should have chosen a better time and place for seduction than a rock by the side of a burned-out bush road beneath a nailing midday sun.
It took every ounce of his control to lift away from Bella’s soft, willing mouth. He kissed her forehead as he released her.
‘In case you were wondering . . . ’ His voice was rough and frayed around the edges. ‘That wasn’t planned.’
‘I know, Gabe. We should never play those silly word games.’
He tried to smile. ‘They’re lethal.’
Bella looked away to the long, disappearing black line of burnt grass. ‘In case you were wondering . . . I reckon we’re still World Champions.’
It was the playful title they’d given themselves years ago and it brought back a torrent of memories. Some-crazy-how Gabe resisted the urge to pull her close again, to take all that she offered and more.
He forced levity into his voice. ‘So you’ve benchmarked us against a few foreigners?’
She shrugged and kept her gaze fixed down the track.
It was the answer he deserved. Gabe grimaced. ‘Well, at least, now we know.’
Bella spun around. ‘Know what?’
‘That we’ve missed each other.’
Instead of a snapping retort, her lovely green eyes shimmered damply.
Hell. Gabe touched her cheek, caught a glittering tear with his thumb. ‘Belle, I shouldn’t have said that. And I shouldn’t have kissed you. I had no right.’
‘No right?’ She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. ‘Are you for real, Gabe Mitchell?’ Now she was bristling with anger. ‘I’m not some girl you’ve just met. We used to be best friends and lovers. We can’t pretend we don’t have a history together.’
There was a noise at their feet. George Clooney was wrestling with the remains of a paper bag.
‘He’s stolen our sandwiches,’ she said, looking down.
Gabe wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted. He knew he had to try to sort this out with Bella while he had this chance.
Beside him, however, she let out a heavy sigh. ‘You’re probably right. Maybe our history doesn’t count.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘But we parted as enemies.’
‘Not enemies.’
‘On very bad terms then.’
‘I’m sorry, Bella. I was in a bad place.’
She looked up slowly, her eyes once again bright and challenging. ‘And where are you now?’
He managed a small smile. ‘In a better place, I hope.’
Her eyes widened as if she questioned what he meant by that, as if she was waiting for him to explain. ‘Once upon a time we used to be able to talk about anything,’ she said.
‘I know.’ He grimaced. ‘There’s a hell of a lot I’d like to explain. I really want to set everything straight.’
He would do anything to win Bella back. But damn it, he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted now was to build up false hopes for her or for himself.
Truth to tell, from the moment he’d seen her again, he’d been scheming strategies to shift some of his family responsibilities, but these weren’t in place yet. And before he laid himself bare, Bella needed to be honest about her plans. No point in starting anything if she still wanted to live her life on the other side of the world.
He was angling to tell her this when she eased closer, lifted her face and brushed her soft, warm lips against his jaw. She was his tawny temptress ag
ain, green eyes glowing, wavy hair tumbling from a loose knot.
She brushed her lips against his neck, igniting a lightning bolt of desire.
‘I can’t help thinking about another wise old saying,’ she murmured silkily.
‘Yeah?’ His voice was thick and raspy.
‘Like practice makes perfect.’
The last shreds of Gabe’s control disintegrated. Swiftly he moved from the rocky seat to stand before her, and this time, as he kissed her, he drew her hips forward and she slipped her legs either side of him.
The rough denim of their jeans met, seam against throbbing seam. A soft moan broke from her. As if he’d caressed her bare skin. Right there.
‘Quickly, kiss me again,’ she pleaded.
Gabe obliged.
Bella couldn’t stop smiling as she drove home. She and Gabe were back on track and that glorious fact eclipsed everything – their two years of estrangement, her travels, her unplanned return . . .
Last week Gabe had asked for friendship.
Friendship?
Bella snorted. He’d been fooling himself, fooling them both when he’d tried that gag. Today they’d blown it clear out of the water.
Of course she and Gabe were so much more than friends. They couldn’t deny the deeper connection and now, almost miraculously, they were an item again. Gabe and Bella. Bella and Gabe. A hot item. Smoking hot.
Admittedly they were a smoking hot item still separated by a gulf of huge as-yet-unexamined issues, but at least Gabe was prepared to talk to her now. In fact, he was coming over tonight to have dinner at Mullinjim – Bella hoped Liz wouldn’t freak about cooking for one extra – and then to have an all-important discussion. Gabe wouldn’t have offered to take this step if he didn’t intend to follow through.
Deep in her bones, Bella was sure they’d work through this to find their own happy ever after.
Woohoo! She was so excited and happy she thumped the horn twice just for the sheer hell of it, frightening a flock of galahs that wheeled away, showing off their rosy-pink breasts.
Okay. She should try to calm down now. No point in arriving home all beaming and jumping with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. Liz would be sure to smell a rat and the last thing Bella wanted was an inquisition about her day at Redman Downs.
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