by Karly Lane
She had to be crazy. Move to another country for this man? Maybe they were both crazy. Why not? a little voice questioned. It wasn’t as though she’d never made a spur of the moment decision before. She’d packed up and moved based on far less reliable relationships than this. But now it counted. This time there was more than a casual fling at stake. This time her heart was on the line.
Savannah had been trying to tell her for a long time she was heading down a destructive path. Cash had always thought of partying and men as things to make her feel good, to fill that void where her family should have been. It wasn’t until she’d seen Savannah and George together, and then met the Callahans, that it had hit her how much better her life could be.
She’d changed, and no one was more surprised by the transformation than she was. There’d been only one thing missing over the last three months, and she was looking at all five foot nine inches of him.
‘I’d have conditions,’ she said, managing to sound relatively calm despite the thundering of blood that had begun coursing through her veins.
Linc’s slow smile made her stomach flip. ‘Okay. Let’s hear them.’
‘Firstly, you wouldn’t be keeping me,’ she stressed. ‘I’ll find a job.’
‘Providing I check it out and think it’s safe,’ he added.
‘These are my conditions,’ she reminded him.
‘I work in risk management and security—I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about here.’
‘Fine,’ she huffed. ‘I’ll find a job in a safe part of town,’ she conceded, ‘and contribute to all expenses.’ He opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand. ‘Secondly, you’ll call your parents and let them know you’re okay.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’m not finished yet,’ she told him. ‘Thirdly, you will never, and I mean ever, try and handle anything else alone.’ She took him by surprise, pushing his chest until he sat back down on the edge of the bed. She sat down beside him and took his hand. ‘If we’re going to do this, then you have to tell me when things are getting on top of you, and you have to tell me what to do to help. If that means you need some space, or you have to get out and go for a run, that’s fine, but I don’t want to be shut out. It’s all or nothing,’ she said and heard her voice shake a little. ‘Is that something you can do?’
‘That’s definitely something I can do,’ Linc said, moving his hand so that he could tug her closer. ‘I agree to all those terms. So we have a deal?’
Cash gave a small chuckle. For a life-changing moment, it had all happened rather fast. ‘I guess we do,’ she smiled as his lips covered her own.
Maybe this was where life had been trying to lead her all this time.
And maybe she hadn’t ended up with the wrong Callahan after all.
Acknowledgements
In 2017 I was honoured to be an Australia Day Ambassador and invited out to a place called Carrathool, in the Riverina district of New South Wales. The people were amazing and the landscape was breathtaking. From the air, I got a whole new appreciation for the vastness of our country and the sheer magnitude of land that is used for farming and agriculture. Our farmers are absolutely vital to our everyday lives, and they work so incredibly hard and under extreme conditions a lot of the time. The stress these people deal with on a daily basis—financial, mental and health-wise—often goes largely unnoticed by mainstream Australia. Our farmers and their families are at the constant mercy of Mother Nature, large corporations, government bureaucracy and the rise and fall of the Australian dollar. They stake not only their livelihood every season, but also the fate of every single person who depends on buying food for their table. Buying Australian produce has a positive roll-on effect for employment not only in the rural communities, but across all of Australia, supporting trucking companies, truck drivers, produce stores, cafés, restaurants and more. We need to support our rural communities whenever and wherever we can, so I ask, if you see a way to help by buying Australian produce or donating to a trusted appeal to buy feed for animals, please do so.
A big thanks to my fellow authors and friends, Bramwell Connolly and Keith McArdle, who have always been there to help out and offer advice. Thank you to Anthony Moorhouse for allowing me to borrow his profession for Linc. You make me want to change my career so I can work for Dynamiq … although I’m not great with jungles … or hostile countries … or dealing with a crisis for that matter, so maybe I’ll just leave it to you guys!
To Karly’s Angels, the creative, amazing brainstorming gang who help me out with titles and names and a host of other things—thank you, guys!
Thanks also to Trevor Lynch, as well as John and Gloria Hunter, for their insight into Papua New Guinea.
Brent Parsons—what a guy! I was lucky enough to present this fella with an Australia Day award in 2017 for his part in organising a massive event in his community which brought thousands of people to the reopening of the local pub. He was also my go-to man for everything farming, although if there’s anything incorrect, it’ll be my doing—authors tend to bend a few rules now and again to suit the plot!
Thank you to the lovely Fiona Palmer, friend, question answerer and awesome author. Thank you for your support and friendship over the years.
Lyn Mattick, friend, sister, brainstormer and organiser—thank you for everything you do for me, and a huge thanks as usual to my husband, parents, kids, brothers, aunties, uncles and cousins who all continue to support me through this incredible journey. I’m very lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing people.
Thank you to everyone I met during my time out in Rankins Springs, Carrathool and surrounding areas. It was such a huge honour to be part of your Australia Day celebrations and I will forever be grateful for the lovely friendships I came away with.
If you or someone you know has recently left the military and needs somewhere to turn, please contact Soldier On: www.soldieron.org.au.
COMING IN MAY 2019
Mr Right Now
KARLY LANE
Book 2 of THE CALLAHANS OF STRINGYBARK CREEK SERIES
Griffin Callahan and Olivia Dawson were inseparable. Everyone in town knew it. But when Griff went off to Ag College, Liv told him it was over and fled her family’s farm to study law.
Griff had never understood her reasons but eventually accepted that first loves don’t last. Until now.
Currently back on the farm to help her twin brother with the harvest, Liv is the same gorgeous, laughing, hazel-eyed girl he’d always loved. Yet Griff can sense a difference, an uncertainty playing beneath the surface that wasn’t there before.
Amidst crossed wires, drunken declarations, and families on a mission, will Griff and Liv finally have a second chance? Or will the old saying—If you love someone set them free—become their reality?
ISBN 978 1 76063 266 3
One
Griffin Callahan climbed down from the tractor and swore as he stared at the tyres submerged in the soft soil. Great. It was just what he needed to top off a decidedly shitty day. He hung his head and closed his eyes for a minute, giving in to the frustration that he’d been fighting off all morning.
After a dry spell, the rains had finally arrived, filling the dams and the tanks and nourishing the pasture to feed weary livestock. The only problem was, once the rain started, it hadn’t known when to stop.
The weather had delayed seeding over the past few weeks and Griff was eager to get moving. He’d walked the paddock yesterday and thought it had dried out enough to risk it. He’d been working steadily most of the morning until his luck had given out and the tractor had run into a boggy spot.
Griff swore again and glared at the machine one last time, before climbing back into the cabin to radio for his dad to bring out the other tractor to try and tow it out. He seriously didn’t need this right now. They were already behind schedule. He wanted to plant some oats as feed for cattle to take advantage of the rain they’d just had, and there was spraying to do before the next
lot of wheat and canola could go in.
He knew there was nothing he could do to control the weather—it came with the territory of being a farmer—but sometimes he hated the uncertainty of this life. He tried to imagine a job where you went to work and everything just ran smoothly—you didn’t have to worry about whether there was rain or no rain, you just did your job, got paid and went home. He couldn’t. It seemed too far out of the realm of his reality.
He took a photo for his Instagram account and added one or two descriptive words about his predicament in hashtags before posting it, then sat back in the cabin to wait for help to arrive. If nothing else, at least his mates would find a brief moment of enjoyment and a few would sympathise. Misery loved company.
It was peaceful again now that the engine was off. He rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. The lonely call of a crow echoed across the wide-open land that surrounded him. In the distance, a cow called for her calf and reminded him that they’d soon be needing to drench, castrate and ear tag again. There was always something to do. It wasn’t that he hated it—far from it, this was what he’d always wanted to do. Farming was in his blood, just like it was in his dad and his dad before him but, lately, a restlessness had begun to stir—for what he wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed a change of some sort to happen.
He’d thought that change had been the arrival of Cash Sullivan to their sleepy little town last year. She’d been like nothing this place had ever seen before—sexy, rebellious, a bit of a mystery woman. He’d been having this unsettled feeling back then too, maybe that’s when it had all started. He wanted Cash—wanted that taste of something different—wanted to be something different to dependable, good guy Griffin. He wanted to be like his older brother, Linc.
Linc was the family hero, the commando who’d spent most of his adult life defending the country and fighting wars, until he came home last Christmas and stole the one woman Griffin had been interested in.
If he wanted to be honest about it, he knew, deep down, that he and Cash were never going to be a thing. She’d tried to tell him but he’d been blinded by hurt ego, pride and a head mixed up by this out-of-character restlessness that had suddenly taken hold of him. So when he’d walked in and discovered her in his brother’s arms on New Year’s Eve, it had been the perfect storm; the building resentment he’d been harbouring against his brother and then his betrayal had sent Griff into a blind rage. What he hadn’t been aware of was his brother’s own internal struggles and the mayhem it had unleashed.
Ending up in hospital hadn’t been the ideal way to spend the first day of a new year—neither had watching his whole family implode. Thankfully, things had settled down since then. It had probably been a blessing in disguise. It’d forced a lot of simmering resentment to the surface, but at least they’d managed to clear the air. Griff hadn’t realised the kind of strain his brother had been under over the past few years, and it had been a bit of a shock to realise his brother wasn’t the invincible hero that Griff had somehow always thought him to be. It changed his whole perception of things.
The approaching growl of a large engine alerted him to his father’s arrival and Griff wearily dragged himself from the cabin to await the inevitable lecture he was about to receive.
It didn’t matter that Griff was twenty-seven years old and had been pretty much running the place for the past few years, when it came to stuffing up, apparently you were never too old to get a sermon on what you should have done.
‘I told you it was too wet.’
‘It was all right yesterday,’ Griff muttered, trying to keep his cool.
‘One day you’ll learn the art of patience. You’re always in such a damn hurry.’
‘Yeah, well, the bills and the weather aren’t exactly patient either, are they?’
‘One more day would have saved you a morning of stuffin’ around though, wouldn’t it?’ his old man pointed out.
Griffin took after his father in temperament and personality, which is why they argued so much, but that’s pretty much where the similarities ended. Linc was the one who had taken after their dad in looks. Griff was more like the Thorncroft side of the family, taller than both his father and brother and, in his opinion, far better looking, although Linc would no doubt disagree.
They’d always been like chalk and cheese in everything from looks down to the type of women they preferred. In his day, Linc had worn the stereotypical military, man-whore medal—happy to play the field, his line of work making it impossible to maintain any kind of normal long-term relationship. Griff, on the other hand, had only had two serious girlfriends his entire life.
He didn’t enjoy the whole chase thing that some guys liked. He’d always been shy and tongue-tied around girls as a kid and it hadn’t really improved that much as a grown man. He really wasn’t after anything complicated; he’d just wanted a marriage like his parents that was built on love, trust and a good, solid partnership.
It shouldn’t be this hard. He’d thought he’d found that exact thing with the two previous relationships he’d had, starting way back in high school with Olivia Dawson—his neighbour and best friend’s sister. They’d grown up next door, and everyone thought they’d end up together, but that ended when Griff went away to Ag College and Liv broke up with him.
He went on to meet Tiffany during college, and for three years they were pretty much inseparable, but then she got a job offer too good to pass up—overseas. Maybe if he’d been willing to leave Stringybark, he’d have been able to save either of the relationships, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Stringybark was in his blood—farming here was the only thing he’d ever seen himself doing.
He hadn’t been celibate. He was a healthy, red-blooded male after all. He’d been seeing Ashley from the pub on and off, but it was just a casual kind of thing. She was nice enough, but she wasn’t into exclusivity and he really wasn’t into sharing with others, so it wasn’t ever going to go anywhere. Nope, it seemed like he was destined to become a crabby old bachelor farmer who lived on the same property as his parents for the rest of his life. If he hadn’t felt like shit before, this thought just topped it off.
He finished attaching the strap to the rear of the tractor and waited for his dad to start pulling. For a minute Griff thought it might be in too deep and they’d have to call in an excavator to dig the bloody thing out but, after a few more tries, the wheels gained traction and the tractor was finally pulled from its muddy resting place.
At least something’s gone right today then, he thought, climbing back into the cabin and heading back to the shed. Looks like he’d be spending another day on maintenance instead of out in the field where he needed to be.
Great start to the day.
Two
Olivia Dawson stared out the window of her fancy office overlooking Sydney Harbour and knew she should be appreciating the way the water seemed to be sparkling extra invitingly today, but her thoughts were too busy processing the review meeting she’d just come from with her boss. She felt ill. She’d just received a reprimand and a warning that if she didn’t lift her game she’d be replaced on one of the biggest accounts the firm managed.
Olivia had spent her entire life behaving in just the right way. Her worst fear in school was having her name called out in class by the teacher for doing something wrong. Not that it had ever happened, but she’d lived in continued fear that one day it might. She always handed in her homework and assignments on time, she’d never skipped school and she’d never lied to her parents—except for the times she’d covered for her twin brother, Ollie. But that wasn’t technically on her. That was all on her brother and, besides, fibbing because your twin begged you to wasn’t really counted as lying to your parents if you weren’t the one actually doing anything wrong.
Olivia sighed as she realised that even after all these years she was still a goody two shoes. This was why her boss had seemed so perplexed. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around her sudden personality c
hange.
Some rebel, she thought miserably, at the first sign of trouble, you’re sitting here like a quivering mess.
‘This isn’t like you, Olivia,’ Mr Rothers had said in a stern, kind of scary tone that she’d never had directed at her personally before. He’d seemed completely perplexed. She couldn’t blame him really, it wasn’t like her … the old her that was.
She’d been wrestling with frustration for a while now, but it had taken her last trip home at Christmas to realise she needed to make a change. She was tired of being Olivia, ‘the good girl’. Where had it got her? She ignored the little voice that was quite happily reading out a list of things, like a decent job, a great apartment, a new car, savings in her bank account. Other than those things, she thought irritably.
She wanted to be more like her best friend, Hadley Callahan—war correspondent, globe-trotter and general, all round, amazing person. Hadley had always been Olivia’s hero. She was the bravest person she knew. Even back in kindergarten, nothing had scared Hadley. She’d stood up to the bigger kids in the playground when they’d tried to bully them, she’d throw a chance at winning a ribbon on athletics days, and didn’t even flinch when the PE teacher would yell at her, just so she could keep Olivia company at the rear of the running pack. She was smart, pretty and had a heart of gold—there was nothing Hadley couldn’t do. Unlike Olivia. The only thing Olivia was good at was getting excellent grades and doing what she was told.