Her Outback Cowboy (Prickle Creek)

by Annie Seaton

  “Don’t bother with that. I’ll be asleep.” Gran stepped back and waved her hand. “I’ll see you in the morning. It’s going to be a busy day.”

  “Okay. Sleep well, Gran.”

  Lucy pulled on a pair of old Wellingtons that were in the boot room off the laundry before heading out to the big three-bay shed. She decided to take Pop’s old farm ute. As expected, the keys were in it. It started with the rattle of the diesel engine, and Lucy engaged the clutch. It had been years since she’d last driven a manual car, but she soon got the hang of it again. Part of the attraction of the farm for the cousins in their early teens had been driving Pop’s farm utes around the property. Lucy looked down at the worn leather and the chipped dashboard. She was sure this was one she’d driven in her early teens, more than ten years ago. Another deep breath, and she pushed away the memories. God, if she kept thinking back to the old days, she’d kid herself into wanting to stay here.

  No way is that ever going to happen.

  Time to focus on persuading Garth to be a part of her campaign.

  She was looking forward to trying to talk him into it. He was perfect for the campaign. He’d been good-looking when they’d been at school, but now that sexy ruggedness had enhanced those good looks even more. He could be a model for any advertising campaign.

  First off, Lucy headed the ute down towards the old bore and parked there for a while, watching the hot water spurt from deep underground through the large round pipe. She stepped out of the ute, keeping an eye out for snakes, since the water attracted them, even at thirty degrees Celsius. The grass where they’d had their family picnics was long and unkempt, and a few pieces of rusty equipment lay around the paddock. She’d round Liam and Jemmy up next weekend and they’d come down here and clean up. It was too nice a place to let go.

  Once it started to get dark, she climbed up into the ute and took the back road over towards the Mackenzie farm. It was only a few minutes before she pulled up at the gate in the fence dividing the two properties. The gate didn’t move as she pushed it open, and Lucy frowned as she spotted a huge shiny padlock securing it to the fence rather than the usual loop of steel that had previously circled the post. There was no way to get through it unless she had a key. She shrugged, got back into the ute, and headed back past the Prickle Creek Farm homestead and out onto the dirt road that passed the various properties. It was a few extra kilometres down to the main gate of the Mackenzie farm, and she flicked the lights on to high beam, keeping an eye out for wild pigs and kangaroos. In the paddock on the other side of the road, a spotlight lit up the horizon as contract shooters hunted feral wildlife.

  The wheels of the ute rattled as she drove over the cattle grate at the entrance to the Mackenzie farm, and as she parked her car, three border collies and a red kelpie danced around the vehicle, yapping a welcome—or a warning.

  Garth was sitting on the wide verandah holding a beer. He stood and waited at the top of the steps as she climbed out of the ute, and a little bit of shyness settled in Lucy’s chest. This was a very different Garth to the boy she’d known. His white T-shirt strained over his chest and his biceps; not only had his face matured, but manual work on the farm had obviously honed his body, too. Lucy let her gaze linger on the broad shoulders, down past narrow hips and strong thighs, before she lifted her eyes to his lips, where a small smile played. This was a new Garth, a grown man, a man confident in his own skin. The sexual experiences they’d shared as teenagers flooded Lucy’s memory as she stood there, and heat ran up her neck. A little flutter of nerves warmed her belly as a new awareness of Garth came in with the memories.

  Don’t be silly.

  Fresh and glowing with vitality, Garth had obviously showered and changed from his dusty work clothes. Damp curls brushed the collar of his white T-shirt. He had been her first real boyfriend, and Lucy had fallen pretty hard for him back in those hormonal teenage days. He’d been the only boy she’d ever been interested in at high school. One year ahead of her, he’d left the district after his final year, and she’d missed him.

  And he was still a looker. Maturity suited him. He’d be perfect for what she wanted.

  “Want to sit outside? It’s a lovely night.” His deep voice washed over her as he held up his glass. “A beer or a wine?”

  “A beer would be great, thanks.” Lucy reached up and dabbed at the perspiration on her brow. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to this western heat again.”

  A calico hammock swing filled with brightly coloured cushions hung next to where Garth had been sitting, and she settled into it, tucking her feet beneath her. The verandah was enclosed to keep the flies and bugs out, but Lucy could see the paddocks through the light gauze screen. Dark shapes dotted the lush grass, and the occasional muted call of a beast reached her as the cattle settled under the trees for the night. A background hum of cicadas filled the night air. She took a deep breath. No animal smells drifted across, and the air was sharp with the fragrance of eucalyptus from the stand of white-barked trees behind the house.

  Lucy smiled when Garth handed her a glass of beer, his fingers brushing hers. “Thanks, but out of the bottle would have been fine. What is it they say? You can take the girl out of the country but not the country out of the girl.” She turned back to the paddock and pointed with her free hand as he sat down. “So you’re not harvesting yet?”

  “No, we’re about a week behind you over here.” She caught a white flash of teeth as he smiled in the semidarkness. “Besides, your grandfather booked out every contractor in the district this week.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve been helping Gran make sandwiches and scones most of the afternoon.”

  Garth stared past her, and his voice was serious. “So tell me, how are they really?”

  “Really, what?” Lucy sensed a hidden question beneath his words.

  “Are they well? Coping okay? It’s a lot of land for an elderly couple to look after.”

  For some reason, Lucy wanted to spring to the defence of her family, but she thought carefully before she spoke. The farm did look tired and rundown, but Liam and Seb—when he arrived, she knew he would give in—would spruce it up. “Yes it is, but they’re going okay. Once Pop’s had his knee operation, he’ll be as good as new and back on his horse.”

  Garth nodded and didn’t say anything, and Lucy spoke to fill the uncomfortable silence. “So, tell me why the back gate is locked. The one at the back of the bore. I tried to take the shortcut but there’s a big padlock on it, so I had to come around the long way.”

  Garth stared out over the paddocks and didn’t answer for a moment. Lucy sensed he was trying to find the right words. “The relationship between the two properties has changed a lot since my olds moved away.”

  “In what way?”

  “Your grandmother doesn’t like the way I work. ‘Newfangled ideas,’ she says, and I guess she didn’t want the close relationship to continue after my parents left. The padlock went up on the gate after—”

  He broke off, and Lucy prompted him to continue. “After what?”

  “No matter.” He waved his hand out towards the paddock. “I’m happy with the way things are going. Some days it’s hard work by myself, but I’m making a go of it.”

  “Pop said cattle prices are up.”

  “Yes, they are. That sweetens the load a lot. But enough of farm stuff. I know how much you hated it when you were a kid. Tell me what you’ve been up to since you moved away.”

  “I didn’t hate it all. There were some good parts.” Lucy took a deep breath, trying to forget about the great times they’d shared the two years before Garth had left. “I’m in advertising now. A potted version of my life for you: I did a degree in creative writing, and I fell into a dream job. I’m a freelance copywriter in Sydney and I work out of one of the big firms. And maybe you remember how much I loved art? Caleb lets me do a lot of the graphics work, even though my degree is in writing and he wanted me as a
copy writer.”

  “Freelance?”

  “Yeah, I have a cubbyhole at Goodbody and Grech for the work I do for them, but I also do some work from home for other agencies. The new way of the world. SOHO.”

  “Soho? I thought Soho was in London.” Garth tipped his beer up and took a long drink, and she grinned.

  “It is, but it means, ‘Small office, home office.’ I telecommute. That is, I work from home some days.” She grimaced as she thought of what she had ahead in the next two weeks. “I’ve got a fair bit of work on at the moment and I thought I could work from here, but I realise I’m going to be busy helping Gran with the contractors, and the internet connection is woeful over at Prickle Creek Farm. I’m going to have to go into town and use the library to send my work to Caleb if it doesn’t improve.”

  “I think your grandparents are still on dial-up.”

  Lucy nodded and wrinkled her nose. “I think so, too. I haven’t heard those modem noises for years. They’re not into technology at all. I’ve got my dongle, but the service isn’t as good out here. A bit far from the tower, I guess.”

  “Yes, it’s just out of town. But listen, don’t waste time driving into town. I’ve got a satellite connection here. You’re more than welcome to come over here and work whenever you need to.” Garth smiled at her. “Even if I’m not here, make yourself at home.”

  “Oh, thank you. That’s really kind of you.” Being able to save the hundred-kilometre-plus round trip to town would make a difference. She hadn’t broached to Gran that she might have to leave her some days. The two weeks were looking busy. By the look of things, the days were going to be full. If what Garth had said was right and Pop had booked all the harvesting contractors in the district, she and Gran and Jemima would be cooking and feeding a crowd all day and night. Lucy frowned. She’d been prepared to work late at night if she had to, but those plans wouldn’t work with no internet signal at the farm. But since Garth had offered, there was no way she was going to let that opportunity pass her by.

  “Earth to Lucy-Lou.” Garth’s deep voice, filled with humour, broke into her thoughts.

  “Oh, sorry, I was planning my days—and nights—in my head.” She picked up the beer glass from the table beside the hammock and sipped at it, appreciating the bitter, cold liquid as it cooled her throat.

  “So what was the bright idea you had this afternoon?” Garth put his fingers in a square like she had at the dam. Lucy stared at his hands. The hands of a worker: slightly tanned with fine dark hair on the top and calluses on his palm. Even when he’d been a teenager, Garth had been a worker, and she’d loved the feel of his hands on her skin.

  Shame I won’t be here long enough to explore that again. Getting to know the grown-up Garth could be fun.

  “Hmm. How do I put this? I need to convince you what a fabulous idea this is.” Lucy put her glass down and tipped her head to the side. “Maybe I can be extra persuasive. Not just good for me, but good for you. It would be a well-paid job, so if you need extra money for the farm it might come in handy.”

  “You’re talking in riddles. What would be a paid job?”

  “I’m developing a proposal for a new product campaign, and I need a man.” She giggled as her words ran together in her excitement. She’d given a lot of thought to the concept this afternoon as she had worked with Gran, weighing flour, cracking eggs, and mixing scone dough.

  “You need a man?” There was a trace of humour in his tone. “Reminds me of that Shania Twain song we used to listen to.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she played along.

  “Uh-uh. You’ve got that round the wrong way. That song was ‘Man! I Feel Like a Woman!’”

  “Well, speaking of that…”

  Lucy laughed and shook her head at him. “You haven’t changed one bit, Garth.”

  “Why would I?” he said, with a note of seriousness in his voice. “Anyway, tell me about this man you need.”

  “Okay, what do I need?” She tipped her head to the side and held his gaze. For a moment the words fled, and she had to dig to remember what she wanted. “A manly man, rugged, outdoorsy, and strong.” She lifted her hands to form a frame. “If only I’d had a camera with me this afternoon, I could have taken a great shot of you. You were hot and sweaty, but you looked so—” Woops, she wouldn’t say sexy. Flirting here was fun and harmless, but she didn’t want Garth to think she was willing to pick straight up where they’d left off. “So Aussie and so hardworking. A real bloke.” Her voice faltered as he stared at her, his eyes dark and intense.

  “So what’s this concept you’ve had? What’s the product you need a man for?”

  “Sexy lingerie. It’s a huge Australian firm, and they’re launching a new product.”

  “Me?” Garth spluttered in his beer and his eyes widened. “And you want me to model underwear?”

  “No, of course not, silly.” Lucy shook her head and laughed at the look of horror on his face. “I need a backdrop for the models, and you and the big sky and the horse this afternoon were perfect. I’ve been looking at sophisticated city settings and nothing has felt right.” She looked across at him. “And you, Mr Mackenzie, gave me a brilliant concept this afternoon. I’ll tell Seb to bring all his camera gear when he comes.”

  “Seb?”

  “Yeah, Liam and Jemima are coming up to Prickle Creek Farm, and I’m pretty sure Seb will be, too.” She jumped out of the hammock, walked across, and crouched in front of his chair. “So what do you think, Garth? Would you be interested in helping me out?”

  “Hmm.” He leaned forward and held her gaze. “Would it mean your visit would be a bit longer?”

  “Possibly. I can work from here as well as I can from my apartment.” Excitement flooded through her as the campaign formed in her head. “I was meant to come out here! I’ve been thinking about this campaign for weeks and inspiration had deserted me. This proposal can be the big break that launches my career. So what do you say?”

  “Can I have some time to think about it?”

  “You sure can. And I’ll get some figures together for you. I’ll get you the best rate I can.”

  Garth looked down, and she sensed he didn’t want to talk about money. Maybe things were tight and that was why he was working here by himself.

  Lucy pushed up to her feet; she could sit here all night. “Thanks for the beer. I’d better get back and see what other jobs Gran has lined up for me.” Garth stood, held the screen door open for her, and followed her down to the driveway. She reached up and kissed his cheek, and damn if those blasted butterflies went into a frenzy of flutters. “And think about my idea. It will be great to work together while I’m here.”

  “I will.”

  As she leaned towards him, a warm hand reached around the back of her neck. “For old times’ sake.” Garth pulled her closer. Lucy closed her eyes as his lips lightly brushed across hers. It was the briefest touch of his lips on hers. “Something to make you want to stay around a bit longer, Lucy-Lou.”

  Lucy leaned into him and rested her forehead on Garth’s shoulder after that brief kiss. For a moment, his hand cupped the back of her head, and she was very tempted to lift her lips to his again. The moment passed when he moved his hand. Lucy stepped back and looked up; his face was in the shadows, and she couldn’t see his expression.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said as she stepped away.

  Lucy was thoughtful as she drove back to Prickle Creek Farm. Garth Mackenzie might be a hunk of a man now, and he might think she was going to jump into bed with him, but she sure wasn’t going to hang around any longer than she had to. The next couple of weeks were going to be busy…and interesting. Maybe she could ignore the prickles and the flies—not to mention those damn butterflies—and make the most of her short time out here.

  …

  Garth sat on the verandah a long time after the tail-lights of Lucy’s granddad’s ute had disappeared over the low rise in the far paddock as she headed for the road. It was c
razy, but he hated watching Lucy leave. He’d always enjoyed the time they’d spent together, and if he was honest, he’d never found another woman who measured up to her. They’d had fun together, and it was a shame they’d both headed away from Spring Downs to follow their dreams. For a while Garth let his thoughts linger on the what-ifs.

  Maybe if he hadn’t gone to uni straight after school, their relationship might have developed. It hadn’t been a hard break at the time. He’d been excited about heading out into the wide world, getting an education, and experiencing life away from Prickle Creek. Huh, if only he’d known then that all he’d learned was that Prickle Creek was where he wanted to be. Lucy had already been planning to move to Sydney, anyway. Hell, she’d been talking about that since she’d hit her teens. Maybe he could have gone to uni in Sydney, and they could have stayed together.

  But he’d left and seen the world. He’d got his degree and he’d landed a plum job at a gold mine in the wilds of Western Australia that had earned him mega dollars in just three years. Enough money to buy the house on the coast for his parents. Enough money to come back and make a real go of the farm. He’d travelled enough to know that the Pilliga Scrub, and the Mackenzie farm, was where he wanted to be. He loved living here, and he loved the work. He had friends in town when he wanted company. The experimental work he was doing with different types of wheat was interesting.

  So why was he feeling so restless tonight?

  In the six months he’d been back, he’d been to a couple of the Bachelor and Spinster balls that were held in the large wool shed on the edge of town. It had caused a bit of a stir when he’d come back to the district, and there were plenty of local girls who had been keen to have a dance and have a drink—and more, if he’d wanted. What would have happened if Lucy hadn’t gone away to the city? Would she have married another farmer and stayed here on the land?