Down Outback Roads (6 page)

‘It’s fine,’ he said, fighting to keep his voice casual. ‘Don and Maureen would have my hide at my lack of country hospitality if I let you stay elsewhere. Besides, you’ll only need to visit Berridale once a day to feed the chooks, check the cattle water and the ewes. I’ll track Don down overseas as soon as I can, to see what he wants to do about a replacement –’

Ewan’s words were drowned out by the boys’ excited squeals as they chased Fudge and Freckle across the garden. Midget and Whiskey barked, pulling on their chains, desperate to join in the chaos.

‘And besides,’ Ewan continued, as he opened the passenger side dual-cab door to take out Kree’s bags, ‘even the boys would know leaving Freckle and Fudge to their own devices would be a bad idea.’

‘Are you sure your wife won’t mind?’

He straightened, Kree’s bags forgotten. ‘Sorry?’

‘Your wife, Tish, she won’t mind having an extra person in the house? It can be hard sometimes having visitors when you have young kids.’

He met Kree’s serious eyes. ‘Tish isn’t my wife.’ For some reason the denial left his mouth quicker than cattle through an open gate.

‘Sorry, I mean partner, though she did introduce herself as Tish Mackenzie on the phone.’

‘My brother’s surname. Tish is my sister-in-law. The twins are my nephews.’ His words slowed. ‘Kree, I’m not married, and never will be. I’m a confirmed bachelor.’

Dammit.

Kree flinched as she missed second gear and grated into third, the long-suffering ute engine groaning in protest. So much for making a dignified exit out Marellen’s poplar-lined driveway. The grinding sound would have carried to where Ewan was working in the machinery shed. She’d reassured him she was getting the hang of the right-hand drive stick shift.

Liar.

She had as much control over the Tylers’ farm ute as she did over her emotions.

If she’d thought living under the same roof as a married Ewan would be difficult, it was nothing compared to coexisting with a very single Ewan. Her hormones didn’t care if he was a confirmed bachelor; they happy-danced at the news he wasn’t attached and ignored all reminders that the Aussie country-boy wasn’t for her. There was only room in her life for Seth.

Ray had taught her she couldn’t be in a relationship while being both mother and father to her brother. When Seth had
broken his wrist at the skate park, in his skater-boy phase, her ex-fiancé had resented Kree cancelling their holiday plans. When Seth had been studying for his senior year SATs, Ray had railed against Kree for not dropping everything to be by his side at corporate functions. Her ex-fiancé was a part of her past and the man behind her simply couldn’t be part of her future.

Marellen’s front entrance loomed. Kree held her breath and changed down to first gear. The ute didn’t miss a beat.

Yeah, take that, stick shift.

Once over the bumpy cattle-grid, flanked each side by a white picket fence, Kree followed Tish’s directions and turned right. As she sent the ute rattling along the corrugated red gravel road, she glanced to her left where the four brick chimneys of the homestead were visible through the trees. Last night when she’d followed Ewan from Berridale, they’d taken a side road into Marellen, bypassing the main driveway. She’d have to see if she could remember the way when she returned from the Tylers’ this afternoon.

Her foot eased onto the ute’s brake as she neared a roadside memorial. A simple white cross sat off the road. Around the cross grew a neat garden of pink and white daisies and strappy agapanthus. Her heart went out to the family who’d lost a loved one and had erected the poignant memorial. Thousands of miles away, a wooden bench sat in a Rocky Mountain children’s park with a brushed-gold plaque to commemorate her parents’ lives. Her throat ached. Her farm-sitting at Berridale had come at the perfect time. This month marked the eighteenth year anniversary of her mother’s death and she’d hoped by keeping busy the familiar pain wouldn’t bite quite so hard.

She rounded the sharp corner past the memorial and then,
at the crossroads, turned onto the ribbon-straight tar road that would take her to town. For the next fifty minutes, she marked locations for future photo opportunities. Perhaps next time she wouldn’t be in such a rush to avoid Ewan and would remember her camera. Perhaps next time he appeared with shower-damp hair and a smile in his clear grey eyes, she wouldn’t stare and drop her knife on her toast plate.

The weathered signs advertising local businesses became more regular and it wasn’t long before the large, rectangular sign indicating she’d arrived at Glenalla, population nine hundred, flashed past. She slowed to the speed limit. Whenever she’d visited previously, she’d either been asleep in Ewan’s ute or immersed in the fog of fear that Seth wouldn’t be found. What a difference ten days made. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head so she’d have an unfiltered view of the town.

Seth finding work near Glenalla was no coincidence. They knew little of their mother’s past other than that she was an only child and had no family. Then, last year, Kree had gone through her mother’s books to donate to a charity yard sale and realised an old hardcover book had all its pages glued together. She’d tugged at the cover and the book had fallen open. Inside, a section of the pages had been cut out to create a secret compartment. Within the hollow lay the pressed sprig of a once-yellow flower and a folded pen-and-ink sketch of an old cottage. She’d assumed the drawing was of a local mountain cabin, until an internet search of the label ‘Glenalla’, had taken her to an outback town in Australia. By itself, the discovery hadn’t appeared significant until, on a hunch, she’d checked her mother’s place of birth on her birth certificate. Sydney. Australia.

Kree slowed the ute to a crawl as weathered buildings flanked the roadside. From her visit to Mrs Butler’s, she vaguely remembered the wide main street and the two-storey pub on the corner. What she hadn’t noticed was Glenalla’s lifelessness. Sadness filtered through her. Buildings with boarded windows and for sale signs stared at her, their exteriors colourless and drab. Paint peeled from sun-blasted walls while red rust scored tin roofs. Glenalla deserved to be a vibrant and bustling centre. Although the generous heart of its community beat with life, the town itself barely possessed a pulse. She had to find a way to help. If it wasn’t for this tight-knit and unselfish community, she’d have lost the last of her family.

The flutter of colour from an orange flag outside an open door caused Kree to stop and park. In the window of a small shop, a large, hand-written sign advertised a closing-down sale. Bright children’s toys were arranged on one side of the sign, with an assortment of gift items on the other. Inside the shop, Kree could see racks of hanging t-shirts. When she’d left Colorado, she’d been so worried about Seth she’d only packed enough clothes for a brief stay, and even then she’d only packed a single pair of socks. She needed more clothes now she was staying longer. She could also take some t-shirts home as gifts, plus she wanted to find presents for Tish, Ewan and the boys for having her to stay. She’d see if she could help this struggling shop owner by spending the crisp, technicolour Aussie money filling her wallet.

Kree put her sunglasses on the passenger seat, slid on her cap and pulled her ponytail through the gap in the back. She drew a deep, hot breath as she left the Tylers’ dual-cab. Summer sure wasn’t yet ready to relinquish its hold. She stepped into the cool of the shop. A wall-shelf of scented candles infused
the room with a delicate floral fragrance. Kree smiled at the young brunette behind the counter. The girl offered a small and hopeful smile in return.

‘You have some great stuff here,’ Kree said as she considered the too-full shelves of knick-knacks.

‘I thought so, too, but there just isn’t a market for these sorts of things in Glenalla. My lease expires next week so everything’s fifty percent off.’

Kree picked up a set of coasters decorated with chickens. She’d noticed Tish had a collection of chicken items in the kitchen. Kree draped a set of chicken tea towels over her arm and then carefully took two china, chicken coffee mugs by the handles.

‘Would it be okay if I set these on the counter?’ she asked. ‘I’m such a klutz, I’m sure I’ll drop something.’

‘Sure.’ The girl quickly cleared away the book she’d been reading. As Kree carefully placed the china cups on the counter, a baby’s rattle sounded. In a portable cot wedged into the small space at the rear of the shop, sat a bright-eyed baby girl.

‘Hello, honey.’

The baby grinned, revealing a small, white bottom tooth. She banged the rattle in her chubby hand on the soft and colourful mat beside her.

‘She’s adorable.’

‘She is. I was hoping to be able to work as well as be a mum, that’s why I started this shop. But now Grace will have to be minded by my mother-in-law. Well, that’s if I can find another part-time job. Drew’s contract-fencing business hasn’t picked up yet after the drought.’

There was no missing the concern lacing the brunette’s soft voice. Kree’s heart went out to the young mother.

She offered her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Kree.’

‘I’m Beth,’ the girl said, shaking her hand.

‘So no one’s hiring, or are there not many places to work?’

‘Both. The coffee shop was a good place to work part-time shifts, but it’s gone now. There’s the grocery store, but any vacant position has a tonne of people applying.’

‘I passed a post office and a general store, but I guess they don’t need any extra employees?’

‘No.’

‘Is there a tourist information place? In my home town in the States they’re always looking for extra help, especially during the summer.’

‘The coffee shop used to have a few tourist brochures but I don’t know who has them now.’

Kree’s attention became diverted by a corner of the shop that contained boxes of chocolate and large glass jars filled with a rainbow array of lollies. ‘No way.’

She moved to a box on the bottom row and held up the top chocolate bar. ‘Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in Glenalla?’

Beth grinned. ‘Every town needs a lolly store, and I tried to get a few different things, as well as the usual favourites.’

Kree plonked the full box onto the counter. ‘My brother’s having withdrawal symptoms from not eating peanut butter with chocolate. Now I don’t need a friend to send him a care package. I can send him one myself.’

‘There’s also Hershey’s Kisses.’

‘Beth, you’re a life saver.’

Kree added all the packets of Hershey’s Kisses to her pile, along with a selection of kangaroo-decorated t-shirts.

‘Now, I need something for two boys.’ She collected a pair
of toy green tractors from across the room. ‘And something for a grownup boy who still likes his toys.’ She spied an old-fashioned model ute on another shelf. ‘This will be perfect.’

With her arms filled with bags and her heart warmed by the thanks in Beth’s wide smile, Kree exited the small shop. She walked into the bright, mid-morning light.

‘Kree. Well, well, isn’t this nice? I haven’t seen you since the command post.’

Kree turned to see Moira Jessop gliding towards her, not a coiffured grey hair out of place.

‘Hello, Moira.’

Kree stood still as Moira air-kissed both her cheeks.

‘How’s your brother doing?’

‘Good thanks. He’s making the most of Sydney’s bright lights.’

‘After what he went through, I’m sure he would be. Doing some shopping, I see,’ the older lady said, her sharp eyes zeroing in on Kree’s parcels.

‘Yes. I’m so thrilled to have found some American candy.’

Kree juggled her bags to open one for Mrs Jessop to peer into. Moira raised a pencil-drawn eyebrow at the amount of chocolate.

Kree laughed. ‘Don’t worry, they’re not for me. I don’t seem to want anything but lamingtons these days.’

Moira’s gaze swept over her as though checking the fit of her white shirt and jeans. Thankfully, she wasn’t wearing yesterday’s too-snug tee.

‘Now, isn’t that a coincidence. Lamingtons are Ewan’s favourite, too. Talking of Ewan, how are you getting on at Marellen?’

Kree shifted the heavy bags in her arms. She should have known social queen-bee Mrs Jessop would have got wind of her temporary home.

‘Good, thanks. But hopefully I won’t be there long. I don’t want to impose on Ewan and Tish more than I have to. As soon as Ewan can speak to the Tylers, he’ll organise a new pump.’

‘You’ll be waiting a while, my dear. I bumped into Maureen’s close friend, Mrs Fisher, in the grocery store. Don and Maureen are on some Greek Island cruise, and out of contact.’

Kree withheld a groan. The sooner she was installed at Berridale, the better. She couldn’t drive to Glenalla every day to avoid Ewan and the feelings he generated. ‘Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed Ewan is able to contact them soon.’

‘He will. Ewan always follows through. He’s such a well-respected man, just like his father. But if he does have trouble, tell him to give me a call and I’ll see what I can do.’ Mrs Jessop leaned closer to Kree, who almost choked on the older woman’s strong perfume. ‘You do know, Ewan is
the
catch of the district.’

‘Is he?’ Kree stepped away to inhale fresh air. ‘I thought he was a confirmed bachelor.’

So much for leaving Marellen to achieve a Ewan-free day. Mrs Jessop appeared to only be getting warmed up on her new topic.

‘Rubbish. Mark my words, Ewan won’t stay single forever, he just has to meet the right girl. Who knows, she might be right under his nose.’

‘Who knows?’ Kree hefted the bags in her arms. ‘If you don’t mind, Mrs Jessop, these are getting heavy. I’ll just go put them in the ute.’

‘Of course, deary.’

Kree headed for the dual-cab. Behind her, Mrs Jessop’s heels clacked on the cement footpath.

Kree manoeuvred open the ute door and placed her parcels on the passenger seat. She glanced around for a diversion to change the topic of conversation.

To her left, a small park featured an aged half-stone-and-half-timber building. She squinted into the glare to read the sign. Surely the lettering didn’t say what she thought it did?

‘Mrs Jessop, does that sign say Cobb and Co. coach house?’

‘Yes, that’s where the Cobb and Co. stage coaches stopped in the late 1800s.’

‘Glenalla is such a treasure trove of surprises. I had no idea stage coaches ran out here.’

Kree rummaged beneath the bags to find her sunglasses. She slipped on her polarised lenses to better inspect the old building.

‘There was also a pub,’ Mrs Jessop added, ‘but it burned down in the 1940s. The coach house and those stone stable pillars beside it are the only things left.’

‘It’s in such good condition for a historic building, but it looks unused?’

‘Before the drought, a Sydney artist bought it. It took a while but he eventually got permission from the local council to make changes. He spent a fortune on restoration and renovation, intending to open it as an art gallery and coffee house. But I’m guessing he went belly up as things haven’t progressed in five years.’

‘So, it’s all kitted out with a kitchen?’

‘I think so. I did poke my head in while it was being refurbished – you can’t be careful enough with out-of-towners around – and I do remember a sink.’

Kree looked along the empty main street. ‘Is there anyone who would know how to contact the Sydney owner?’

‘Steve at the general store would know. He’s the one who hired the contractors.’