The Red Dirt Road

by Alissa Callen

  His mouth dried. Instead of being a solid colour, her swimsuit was a combination of opaque and sheer panels that did little to hide her full curves. He scanned the creek bank for a sign of other riders. Suddenly, being alone with Fliss didn’t feel so safe.

  She barely glanced at him before she led Flame over to a hollow. Using the bank for leverage, she jumped onto Flame’s bare back.

  Garnet followed him to the water’s edge and he focused on assessing the waterhole for any obstacles or hazards. The creek bed gently sloped and didn’t fall away into a sudden drop. The stony, sandy bottom was also free from mud.

  ‘Everything look okay?’ Fliss asked to his left.

  ‘Yes, in you go. Garnet and I’ll follow.’

  Flame walked into the water. When she stopped to splash with her front hoof, Fliss smiled and urged her forwards. ‘No, you don’t. Thanks to my old pony I know exactly what that means. We’re here to swim together, not for you to roll and ditch me.’

  Flame continued into the creek. When Fliss’s legs and waist disappeared below the water line, the mare began to swim. With her head above the surface, she slowly circled until she found her footing in the shallow depths. As soon as Fliss’s waist and legs came into view, Flame swung around ready to go swimming again.

  Fliss called over her shoulder. ‘It’s lovely in.’

  Hewitt swung onto Garnet and they headed into the water. Soon she was swimming, her ears forwards and movements sure. He made sure they kept to their section of the creek. Horses’ hind legs stretched backwards when they swam and he didn’t want either Flame or Fliss to be kicked.

  Fliss’s laughter carried over the waterhole as Garnet blew bubbles before sticking out her tongue to lick the water. ‘She loves it.’

  ‘She’s always been a water baby.’

  He wasn’t surprised his voice sounded hoarse. He glanced at the empty creek bank. A dry and fully dressed Fliss pushed his self-control to the brink. A wet, semi-naked Fliss was guaranteed to send him over the edge.

  A splash sounded. He swung around. Fliss was in the deeper section of the waterhole while Flame headed to shore. He turned Garnet towards where Fliss treaded water and glanced over his shoulder to check Flame wouldn’t bolt. But all the chestnut mare did was leave the creek to graze on the spring grass at the top of the bank.

  He reached Fliss and offered her his right hand. ‘Like a ride back?’

  ‘Thanks. This water’s colder than it looks.’

  Just like when he’d pulled her to her feet when she’d been mobbed by the puppies, her hand settled around his wrist. He took her weight and drew her up behind him onto Garnet.

  Fliss’s hands rested lightly on his waist. Her warm breath fanned his shoulder as her laughter wrapped around him. ‘I don’t know what happened. Flame went one way and I went the other.’

  The creek level deepened. Garnet sank as she swam, the movement causing Fliss to slide into him. He didn’t miss her gasp or the way her chest pressed against his back. The water dragged at them, causing her grip to tighten on his waist.

  Every breath she took increased the contact between them. Every breath he took eroded a little more of his self-control until there was nothing left but the desperate need to kiss the woman behind him. It wasn’t even a conscious thought that prompted him to loosen the grip of his knees and turn towards her. Garnet surged forwards, sending them both into the water. His feet hadn’t touched the creek bed before Fliss was flush against him, her hands in his hair and her mouth on his.

  Nothing had prepared him for the feel of holding her. Nothing mattered more than kissing her. Never had a woman fitted so perfectly against him. Never had the world seemed so complete. There was no more guilt, loss or pain. All he could feel was heat and a connection so intense it consumed them both.

  It took Hewitt a moment to realise their ragged breaths weren’t the only thing he could hear. Words carried on the breeze, along with the sound of horses’ hooves.

  He spoke against Fliss’s lips. ‘We’re about to have company.’

  She stiffened and he thought she’d move away, but instead her fingertips traced the whiskered line of his jaw. She kissed him, a swift, molten kiss, before moving backwards to stand an arm’s length away. Without her warmth, the chill of the water seeped into his skin.

  He saw the moment when reality returned. Her hazel eyes lost their dazed look and their golden lustre dulled.

  ‘Did I hurt your shoulder?’

  ‘No.’

  Three riders stopped on the creek bank to remove their saddles. Fliss didn’t head for the shore where Flame and now Garnet were grazing.

  Fliss stared at him. Then, under water, out of sight of the newcomers, her hand linked with his. In the tremble of her fingers he could feel the same yearnings and the same riot of emotion that shook his own hands. He ran his thumb over her palm to comfort her.

  ‘Hewitt, that wasn’t … a good idea.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It can’t happen again.’

  ‘I know. It won’t.’

  A horse and rider entered the creek. It would soon be obvious that he and Fliss were not having a casual chat between friends. Still she stared at him, her lips parted and eyes overbright. Then, at the last possible moment, she slid her hand free.

  CHAPTER

  12

  ‘So how was the trail ride?’ Cressy’s curious voice sounded down the phone line.

  Fliss silenced a sigh. What her sister really wanted to know was how things went with Hewitt. Edna’s matchmaking was proving contagious. The Woodlea grapevine had been buzzing about how gorgeous Hewitt and Tanner had looked in their Highlander costumes.

  ‘It was … fun.’

  Heat suffused her cheeks. ‘Fun’ didn’t come close to describing her kiss with Hewitt. Until now she’d been living a lie. She wasn’t a slow-burn girl at all. If they ever went on a first date, she was ditching her no-kissing rule. She was kissing him before they left for the date.

  ‘That’s great. Tanner said everyone enjoyed themselves and the Ridley boys didn’t cause much trouble. The committee also reached their fundraising target.’

  ‘Yes, Janet’s thrilled. She’s hoping the upcoming ball will raise the final amount needed for the portable ultrasound. Thanks again for looking after Miss Molly and her babies.’

  ‘No worries. Phil did most of the feeding and puppy playing. Denham and I ended up staying a second night up north. Between Denham buying cows with bucking blood and Tanner buying young horses to train, there soon won’t be any room left on either Glenmore or Claremont. Reggie will have to come and live with you.’

  ‘I’d love to have him. I’m planning to put in a veggie garden so he’d never miss his daily carrot-fix. I’m with you … I don’t know what all the fuss is about. There’s not a mean bone in that massive body of his.’

  ‘Try telling Denham that. He has no doubts that Reggie’s genetics will produce champion bucking bulls. Speaking of Reggie … as gorgeous as Hewitt might look in a kilt, he still has to pass the Reggie test, otherwise he’s not man enough for you.’

  ‘Just as well I’m not looking for a man because Hewitt will never meet Reggie let alone feed him carrots to pass the test.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Denham and Tanner are itching to see Garnet and Hewitt in action in their rodeo yards. Reggie’s paddock’s only the next one over.’

  ‘Hewitt riding in the boys’ yards will never happen. A slow trail ride was okay but fast and high-risk riding … Hewitt would have to see that as a bad idea.’

  Fliss realised the foolishness of what she’d said and joined in with Cressy’s laughter.

  ‘Okay,’ she added. ‘I take that back. Hewitt’s male and a cowboy so he probably wouldn’t think it was a bad idea. I would.’

  ‘So would I. His body’s been through enough. So how’s the DNA sleuthing coming along? Do you need any more of Mum’s boxes?’

  ‘No. I already went through the boxes you have
and there wasn’t anything but old books. The sleuthing’s going slowly. I’m hoping there’ll soon be some unknown names that keep cropping up. The answer to who my father is has to be in there somewhere. I’d love to pick Lewis’s brains but he still has enough on his mind.’

  ‘If you want any help or want to run names by me, you know where I am. I’ll still give you Mum’s books. You were always the reader.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d like to have them. And Cressy … thanks for not letting all of this … come between us.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. You are my sister and always will be, no matter who your father ends up being. Mum would have had her reasons for things working out the way they have. I just hope one day we’ll have some answers.’

  ‘So do I. I’d better go. I can see Hewitt heading over.’

  ‘Can you now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Fliss shook her head at her sister’s intrigued tone. ‘Have you been talking to Taylor? She’s determined to push Hewitt and me together. I’m never borrowing her clothes again or letting her near me with hairspray.’

  ‘She was very proud of her sexy fairy creation. But no, it was Ella.’

  ‘As you know better than anyone, any sort of relationship is the last thing Hewitt and I need right now.’

  ‘I do know,’ Cressy’s words sobered. ‘But I also know the two of you deserve to find happiness.’

  Hewitt’s knock sounded on the front screen door.

  Fliss swallowed. She lived in hope she’d one day find the happiness Cressy and Denham shared. ‘Maybe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

  She ended the call and ran her hands through her loose hair. It was a little late to be self-conscious about what she wore and how she looked. Hewitt would be used to seeing her at her rural best, even if Edna wasn’t.

  Fliss had spoken the truth to Cressy. Allowing emotion and attraction to lead her down a road she wasn’t ready to travel was only asking for trouble. As for Hewitt, he needed to heal so he could get back to being there for the twins and family he cared so deeply about. So she’d done the sensible thing after their kiss and established that giving in to the chemistry between them hadn’t been the best idea. Hewitt had agreed. He wasn’t a man to go back on his word. There’d be no more heady kisses. So why did she feel so unsettled?

  She opened the screen door and hoped her smile wasn’t strained. Her senses registered the clean scent of Hewitt’s skin and the fitted stretch of blue across his chest even before she’d stepped outside. What she hadn’t noticed were the puppies milling around his boots. Tiny nails clipped on the polished floorboards as two fluffy bodies ran past her.

  ‘Not again. I’ve only just cleaned up the last lot of puppy piddle. You two stop right there.’

  Hewitt’s husky laughter followed her as she sped down the hallway to scoop up the runaways. Once back outside, she put the puppies on the veranda floorboards. They started growling and wrestling over the top of her bare feet.

  Hewitt’s laughter deepened. ‘All we need now is for Juno to visit.’

  ‘I think even Juno would have met her match with these two. Whereas this one’—Fliss bent to pick up a smaller puppy sitting on her haunches looking up at her—‘is a sweetheart.’

  Hewitt stroked the puppy’s tiny head. ‘Yes, Poppy isn’t as high-maintenance as her two brothers.’

  Fliss looked at Hewitt’s tanned, well-shaped hand. A hand that only yesterday had trailed heat over the sensitive skin of her lower back.

  Breathing uneven, she waited for Hewitt to finish patting Poppy and then took a step back to set the pup down. Now she knew what it felt like to have Hewitt’s mouth on hers, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself when around him.

  Hewitt put his hands in his jeans pockets.

  ‘Ava asked if it was okay to bring the kids to stay this weekend? Lizzie’s desperate to see the puppies and to meet you. Quinn apparently also needs some Uncle Hewy time.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful. Tell Ava she can stay as long as she wants. I’ve plenty of room.’ Fliss paused to look over her shoulder at the long hallway. Her drafty guest bathroom was stuck in a time warp and the bedrooms only partially renovated. ‘Actually, maybe you should stay over here? Ava and the twins would be much more comfortable in the stables.’

  Hewitt’s gaze briefly dropped to Fliss’s mouth and when his eyes met hers they were a gunmetal grey. ‘That mightn’t be such a sensible plan.’

  The trip in her pulse at the thought of Hewitt sleeping across the hall confirmed it wasn’t one of her better ideas. But her anxiety didn’t listen. She bit her bottom lip. ‘Maybe not … but you’ve seen what state the house is in. At least Ava will have reliable hot water over in the stables.’

  ‘True. I’ll let Ava know. The twins will be excited.’

  ‘It will be great to meet them all.’

  He slid his hands free from his pockets and half turned. ‘I’ll get back to working on the chook pen.’

  ‘Thank you. Cressy has some hens I can have, and Meredith has a rooster, so it might be fun to get them while the twins are here. Lizzie and Quinn can help with the names.’

  The warmth of Hewitt’s smile stayed with Fliss as she settled into her chair in her home office. She soon lost track of time as she concentrated on coloured DNA segment comparisons and tables of common matches. After printing out and adding another family tree to her pin board, she stood to relax her tight muscles. She eyed off the neat piles of photo albums that were stacked on the bookshelf along with her mother’s scrapbooks. She’d been through everything, twice, and there was nothing to connect her mother with a man from her Sydney life. She and Cressy had also taken out all the family photographs from their frames to check there wasn’t a photo tucked behind them. What had she missed?

  In a perfect world she’d have known more about her mother’s family. But her mother’s parents hadn’t ever enjoyed travelling past the Blue Mountains so had been shadowy, remote figures in Fliss’s childhood. When Fliss had gone away to Sydney to boarding school, they’d no longer been alive. Her mother had had an older sister but she’d lived in New York and had never had children. Aunty Kath had passed away while Fliss had been in her final year of school.

  Filled with a sudden thought, Fliss headed for the kitchen. Her mother and Aunty Kath had often swapped recipes. Fliss switched on the kettle before going into the pantry where cookbooks were lined in a neat row on the middle shelf. When her mother had taught Fliss and Cressy to cook, she’d had an old family cookbook she’d often made notes in. The well-loved book was far more than a collection of handwritten and pasted-in recipes she’d started before her married life. Her mother would make notes about where a dish might have been eaten and who had cooked it.

  Fliss ignored the kettle as it clicked off and opened the dogeared pages. The recipes were all categorised in different sections. Soon she was lost in the memories of birthday breakfasts, campfire dinners and the feel of her mother’s arm around her while she licked cupcake batter off the beaters. On the second page of the cake section, Fliss skimmed the recipe for an orange and poppy-seed cake. Heart racing, she re-read her mother’s note at the bottom.

  Valda Ryan’s never-fail recipe. Beach picnic. Patrick’s mother.

  Leaving the cookbook open, Fliss sped into her office. This was the first male name she’d come across and she was sure she’d included Ryan in the list of unfamiliar names. The recipe was early on in the cake section which indicated it was recorded in her mother’s younger years. A beach picnic was also highly likely to have taken place near where her mother had lived in Sydney. Fliss scanned the list on her pin board and discovered the Ryan name near the top.

  Filled with a new sense of purpose, she searched her matches on the DNA website for the names Patrick Ryan and Valda Ryan. When no matches appeared, she wasn’t surprised. It would be too lucky to have their personal DNA in the system. Next she plugged in the more general Ryan surname. Three pages of matches who had the Ryan surname in their family tree appeared.
The closest match was an extremely high fourth to sixth cousin connection.

  Fliss’s excitement waned, but her determination grew as she worked her way through the names. Some matches she could eliminate as there were exact family tree matches but under a different surname. She ruled out any match she shared with Cressy. Some matches were also American based so weren’t relevant. But as Fliss progressed, her list of possible Ryan links grew.

  Back stiff, and in need of a sugar fix, Fliss investigated the final Ryan connection on the first page. Once done, she made her way into the kitchen. While the kettle boiled for the second time, she tilted her head and dug her fingers into the knot in her neck. The trigger point in her trapezius muscle refused to release.

  Beyond her kitchen window her once neat garden resembled a battle zone. Cressy had been right. The puppies had wreaked havoc. Discarded and chewed sticks littered the ground. Tennis balls lay scattered amongst the black plastic garden pots she’d need to put away on a higher shelf. But the mess and disorder didn’t fill her with worry. The chaos outside reminded her that life was to be lived and enjoyed.

  Two fluffy bodies played tug of war with a rag rope she’d plaited after watching an internet tutorial, while three other puppies had claimed a veranda step each and were stretched out so the sun could warm their bellies. Molly was at the back garden gate keeping Hewitt company while he rebuilt the chook pen.

  Beyond the post-and-rail fence was a path that led to a small shed and wire-enclosed pen. The farmer’s friend weeds inside the chook pen had been up to Hewitt’s chest when he’d dragged them out. At the door of the chook pen grew low clusters of yellow and black weeds. Her mother used to swear that the capeweed flowers would lie down beneath the lawnmower to avoid being cut. The next day the daisy-like blooms would wave to her as cheerful as ever.