The Patterson Girls (25 page)

Of course someone like him would be attached. It had been stupid to imagine otherwise, but the last thing she wanted was to stand around making small talk with the woman who'd just broken her heart. She'd almost managed to escape, but Hugo had seen her just as she was slipping back outside. He'd run after her into the bustling Baltimore street and although she'd tried to make some excuse about not feeling well, he'd refused to take no for an answer. He'd linked his arm through hers and led her back into the bar, where she met a number of other people who worked on other wards of the hospital. Including Celia Jameson, his fiancée.

Madeleine should have distanced herself then, but Celia had been as warm and welcoming as Hugo. The two of them sort of adopted her, always inviting her to things and making sure the Aussie didn't have any free time to miss home. As much as Madeleine wanted to hate Celia for being engaged to the man of her dreams, she couldn't. Celia and Hugo had become good friends over the past three years—her best friends—and she'd learnt to ignore, or at least handle, her attraction to him.

Chapter Nineteen

As promised, the day he got back from Darwin, Mitch turned up at the motel and reported for duty.

‘Let me guess,' he said as he swaggered into reception, where Charlie had just finished welcoming two new guests. Wearing cut-off cargo shorts that made her more aware of his tanned, muscular thighs than she cared to be, another one of his silly t-shirts and a scruffy Adelaide Crows cap on his head, he leaned back against the reception counter and made a theatrical show of glancing around. Using his hands to assist, he said, ‘Fire engine red for the walls, canary yellow for the ceilings and maybe the odd feature in ocean blue.'

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stifle a laugh. ‘Thank God you're not an interior decorator.'

He feigned offence and crossed his arms. ‘What's wrong with red, yellow and blue?'

‘Nothing, if you're renovating a kindergarten.'

‘Okay smart-arse, what colours are you thinking?'

Excited to be able to fill him in on all the plans she'd made while he'd been up north, Charlie grabbed a folder off the desk. Most of her decisions had been made late at night, because during the day she'd been run off her feet with all the general motel jobs. How Dad and Mrs Sampson had ever managed on their own she didn't know.

‘This,' she told him, gesturing to a soft off-white colour and then to a shade called
eggplant
, ‘and this for the feature walls.' Although one of the design websites she'd looked at had insisted feature walls were a thing of the past, she believed they'd work in the motel rooms, where the rest of the furniture would still be plain.

Mitch shrugged. ‘Whatever takes your fancy.' But then he grinned. ‘And you're the boss. When do we start?'

She'd never been the boss of anything in her life and she didn't know when she was supposed to fit in painting between all the other tasks but she also couldn't wait to get the makeover underway. And what kind of fool would turn away free labour? ‘How about right now? Can you take me to the hardware store to collect the paint and stuff?'

‘Does “stuff” include stopping in at Rosie's for a slice of carrot cake?'

Charlie glanced at the time on the computer screen: a quarter past two. She'd already checked in the last of today's arrivals and Dad was in the office doing paperwork, so she could probably spare half an hour. Her tastebuds all but moaned at the thought of Rosie's famous carrot cake. It was the one of the few foods she and Mitch agreed on. That and Golden North Giant Twin bars.

‘I guess it can,' she said, picking up her bag. ‘I'll just go tell Dad what's going on.'

On reflection, stopping at Rosie Jean's Country Kitchen was perhaps not the smartest idea. Within twenty seconds of Mitch and Charlie walking in the door, she was swamped with greetings and questions from locals. Snowed under at the motel the last few days, she'd barely been anywhere aside from a quick trip to the general store for some personal hygiene products, but apparently her return to town qualified as this week's big news.

‘I heard you were back,' said Janie Lee, president of the local Country Women's Association and the third person to accost Charlie as she headed for the counter. Janie and her husband had retired from the family farm a few years back but unlike many others in the region, they hadn't gone farther afield to greener pastures, choosing instead to buy a house in town. Secretly Charlie thought it was probably because Janie couldn't bear the idea of living too far from her sons and she felt a little sorry for the daughters-in-law, one of whom had been in the same year at school as she and Mitch. ‘Your father must be over the moon.'

Charlie smiled at the older woman. ‘I hope so.' He'd started to smile more in the last few days and appeared to be sleeping better now that he didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn every day. Still, although she'd sent an email to her sisters telling them all this earlier that day, she wasn't about to share their private business with Janie Lee, known to be the local busybody for very good reason.

Mitch's hand came down on Charlie's arm as he tossed Janie one of his practiced grins—the kind that made both little girls and adult women swoon. ‘We're in a bit of a hurry, Mrs Lee. Charlie has some fab ideas about renovating the motel and after cake, we're off to get paint.'

‘Ooh.' Her eyes lit up and without another word to Charlie or Mitch she bustled off to the other side of the café, plonked her ample-sized behind down on a seat and leant forward to share the gossip with her fellow old biddies.

‘Phew, that was a close one,' Mitch hissed as he let go of her arm and started towards the display cabinet laid out with Rosie's home-baked country goodies. They both knew Janie had been hoping for news of her dad, how poor old Brian Patterson the widower was coping without his wife.

‘Charlie!'

Almost at the counter, she turned at the sound of her voice and saw Lisa, a girl from her class at school waving from a nearby table.

‘Hey, Lisa. How are you going?' she asked, walking over to her.

‘Oh, you know.' Lisa gestured to the pram beside her. It was one of those double ones and a plump baby was sitting on one side gnawing on a soggy bread stick. At the table next to Lisa, his mouth smeared with chocolate cake, was the cutest toddler Charlie had ever laid eyes on. She couldn't imagine what life would be like with these two in tow; she could barely manage to organise herself.

‘Say no more.' She laughed. ‘They're gorgeous.'

‘They're monsters,' Lisa replied, but her eyes sparkled, telling Charlie they were her pride and joy. Then she looked past Charlie to Mitch. ‘Are you and Mitch back on?'

Charlie blinked, then blushed. ‘We were never on in the first place.'

‘Oh …' Lisa grabbed a baby wipe out of her bag and started cleaning the toddler. ‘Maybe we can catch up some time. I know you're probably run off your feet but if you do get a spare moment, you're welcome to come to my place for a coffee. That's if you don't mind mess.'

‘Mum always used to say, “Dull women have immaculate houses,” so I'm quite fond of mess.'

A sympathetic smile crossed Lisa's face. ‘I was so sorry to hear about Annette. You hear about kids being allergic to bees, but … well, she's left a big hole in this community.'

‘Thanks.' Charlie appreciated the genuine tone of Lisa's words. ‘I'd love to catch up some time.'

‘That's great.' Lisa grinned as she grabbed a serviette from under her coffee mug and found a pen in her bag. She scribbled down her mobile phone number and the address of a farm just outside of town. ‘Call me.'

‘I will,' Charlie promised, before heading over to Mitch who was now sitting at a table reading the local rag.

‘I ordered for you,' he said, giving her a reproachful glare.

She slid onto a seat next to him. ‘Not my fault I'm popular.'

He snorted and lifted the paper. ‘I'm surprised you're not front page, but you'll be old news by next week, so don't go getting a big head.'

She poked her tongue out at him just as Rosie arrived with two massive portions of carrot cake. ‘Thanks, Rosie.' Charlie smiled up at the older woman, who had the drive and enthusiasm of the Energizer Bunny.

‘You're welcome, love. Good to see you getting out for a break. Sally Sampson says you'd been working like a Trojan since coming home.'

Bless Mrs Sampson
, thought Charlie. As if she could talk. The woman went above and beyond most paid employees, but she guessed she didn't have much else to keep her busy. ‘It hasn't been all hard work. I've had fun.'

‘I'm glad to hear it. Enjoy your cake,' Rosie said, before heading back into the kitchen.

‘And eat it quick.' Mitch picked up his dessert fork and stabbed it into the cream cheese icing. ‘Next thing I'll be needing to book an appointment to see you.'

Despite Mitch's faux-grumpiness and Janie Lee's prying, Charlie felt good to be back in a place where everyone knew her and took the time to stop and talk. As much as she loved Melbourne, everyone there always seemed to be in a rush. The slower pace of life in Meadow Brook suited her. Not that she'd truly had the chance to experience it yet with all she wanted and needed to do at the motel, but that was okay—it looked like she might be here for a while.

Smiling, she picked up her own fork and scooped up the first delicious bite. ‘Ahh … Now that was worth coming home for.'

Thankfully, the hardware store was mostly frequented by men, who although happy to see Charlie again and make small talk about the motel, didn't try and lure her into lengthy conversation. Bob Tucker, who had owned the shop for as long as Charlie could remember, helped Mitch carry the heavy tins out onto the back of the ute and then wished them well.

‘I should possibly give this place a bit of a facelift too,' he said, leaning back against the tray of Mitch's ute and glancing at the fibro and tin building that housed his store. Charlie agreed that a coat of paint would be an improvement, but she wasn't sure if it would really make a difference to Mr Tucker's clientele.

Mitch chuckled as they both climbed into the vehicle. ‘Better not do too good a job on the motel or you'll have everyone round here asking for renovation advice.'

Charlie shook her head as she clicked in her seatbelt. ‘All I'm doing is a bit of painting.' But then her eyes caught on the display of potted colour on the verandah of Tucker's shop. ‘What do you think about refreshing the old garden beds at the front of the motel? They could do with a good weed and you've got to admit they're looking a little tired.'

Mitch tsked. ‘Give the girl a bit of power and she goes crazy.'

She shot him a glare. ‘I'm only trying to improve things.'

‘I'm joking, Charles,' he said as he reversed out their parking spot. ‘I think all your ideas are awesome.'

‘Thanks.' She relaxed at his words, hoping he was right and she wasn't taking on too much.

It took less than two minutes to drive back to the motel, because in Meadow Brook there was really only one street. At one end there was the motel and Shire buildings and at the other end the industrial area with the hardware store, agricultural supplies and mechanic. In the middle you could find a general store, chemist, post office and a hair salon that was open whenever its owner felt the need.

Dad and Mrs Sampson were outside having a cup of tea in the courtyard when they arrived. ‘Good to see your dad relaxing,' Mitch said as they began unloading from the tray.

‘It is,' Charlie agreed, but then frowned. ‘Although Mrs Sampson was supposed to finish her shift a couple of hours ago.'

‘Doesn't look like she's working to me,' Mitch noted, lifting two tins of paint. ‘Now, where are we going to store all this stuff?'

Charlie gestured to the storage shed. ‘I cleared a spot in there yesterday.'

‘Excellent.' A tin in each arm, he started towards the shed. Charlie grabbed the box of other painting supplies and hurried after him.

‘You kids want help with that?' Dad called from his position on the picnic bench.

‘No way,' Charlie yelled back. It had barely been two weeks since he'd frightened them all half to death by imitating a heart attack. ‘Keep him under control, Mrs Sampson.'

The motel's housekeeper laughed. ‘I'll do my best.'

And Charlie and Mitch got back to task. Once they'd carried everything they wouldn't need right away to storage, Charlie already felt like she'd done a day's hard labour and she leant against the wall to catch her breath. ‘I'm buggered.'

Mitch laughed as he stooped down to grab a bucket and some cloths. ‘Toughen up, princess. We've barely started. And I promise you the end result will be worth the effort.'

Pushing aside the thought of how good his butt looked when he bent over, she gave him an evil glare and straightened. ‘Why do I get the feeling I might regret letting you help?'

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Why do I get the feeling you're going to drive me crazy with your moaning and complaining?'

She bent over, picked up a paintbrush and went to whack him with it but he dodged out of her way, laughing as he started towards the motel rooms. ‘Which room's up first?' he called over his shoulder.

Jogging to catch up, Charlie overtook him and dug her master key out of her pocket. ‘Number fifteen.' It was the one she and Mrs Sampson had agreed was most in need of a makeover and she couldn't wait to paint over the weird looking stains on the walls. Although she wanted to do the bar and restaurant as well, she'd decided to start on a vacant room while she worked out the logistics.

For the next couple of hours, Charlie and Mitch worked like pack horses, prepping the room for its first coat. This included moving the furniture into the middle of the room and covering it with drop cloths, scrubbing down the walls and then using special blue tape to cover up the light switches, cornices and power points. Halfway through, Mitch drove home to get his stereo. When he returned, talking and singing along to their favourite tunes made the time pass quickly. Although you still couldn't see much evidence of their progress, Charlie felt good about what they'd achieved.