The Wildwood Sisters (12 page)

Finally coming to a stop under an old Bowen mango tree, Dylan once again eyed the woman and his heart almost catapulted out of his chest.

No bloody way.
It couldn't be her, could it? She was blonde last time he saw her…

After squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds, he opened them again, feeling as though he was seeing a ghost. The gorgeous woman stared back at him, looking as shell-shocked as he felt, her unforgettable beautiful brown eyes wide and her desirable lips quivering. Time stood still. Neither of them said a word. And although they were only like this for a moment, their eyes stayed locked for what felt like an eternity, until Dylan tore his away from hers and subtly drank her in.

With her long silky dark hair pulled loosely back, curvaceous figure and womanly looks, she was even more exquisite than he remembered. Gone was the blonde bombshell teenager he'd fallen deeply in love with all those years ago, only to be replaced by a creature more captivating than he'd ever be able to envisage. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he and Renee had been together.

The last time they'd spoken had been extremely heated, so how was he meant to act around her now? And how was she going to react seeing him? For a few seconds his mind whirled back to that fateful afternoon when they had both said things that never should have been said. He could recall it like it was only yesterday, the amount of times he'd run it through his mind making the memory very easy to evoke.

How do you know he's not capable of murder? He's just skipped town, or just vanished into the scrub round here for all we know, to avoid the consequences of doing what he did to your mum. So please explain how can you be so damn sure, Dylan?

Renee, please stop.

No, Dylan, you need to hear this… Maybe his guilty conscience has finally got the better of him, which is why he snapped and bashed your mother, and now he knows if he is caught by the police for that they will somehow discover he was the reason Scarlet went missing.

For Christ's sake, Renee, he's my dad. I can't believe you could even think such a thing, let alone say it out loud…

Well what do you expect me to think?

I expect you to stop pointing the finger at every Tom, Dick and Harry! You're pulling at straws, Renee, and hurting innocent people in the process, including me.

Maybe you should take off your rose-coloured glasses and see it's a huge possibility, Dylan.

I have taken them off, Renee, and to be honest, I don't know if I can be with you now that I know what you think.

Fine. Leave then.

Fine, I will.

Dragging himself back to the here and now, Dylan turned the ignition off. ‘Renee?' His voice was husky, a potent mixture of nostalgia, nerves and resentment swirling within him as he opened the door and stepped from the Land Cruiser. He cleared his throat, trying to get a grip, wanting to act nonchalant. No way on this earth did he want her to know she had hurt him so badly. He was shocked at his emotions running so high. He thought he'd got over her years ago.

‘Dylan, is that you?' She cautiously took a step towards him, and then another, while her hand fluttered to her chest. He couldn't pull his eyes away from her. She. Was. Stunning.

‘Yup, that's me.' He smiled as he removed his hat and gave her a nod, at the same time wishing his stomach would stop flipping. How could she still have this effect on him after all this time? He tightened his jaw, and willed his bolting heart to slow down.

She shook her head as if dazed. ‘Oh my God, Dylan Anderson.' She just stood and stared at him, as if she didn't know what else to say.

He gazed back at her, speechless. The way she said his name, so tender, so soft, it had the power to caress his soul—but damned if he was going to let it. She'd always had that knack with him, her words as seductive as her touch. Happy memories of their time together flooded his mind and he struggled to stop himself from opening his arms wide and inviting her into them. He quickly reminded himself that many years had passed, and a lot had changed,
and
she had discarded him so easily after throwing such hurtful accusations his way. They weren't lovesick teenagers anymore. They were adults with pasts, and undoubtedly with completely different futures. And even though Shelley was never coming back, part of him felt guilty for even feeling such things towards Renee. Like he was somehow being unfaithful.

Now only metres away from him, he watched as her hesitancy began to give way and she lifted her hands to shade her eyes from the sun, smiling dazzlingly back at him. ‘I can't believe you're the first person I've run into here.' She placed the basket she was carrying down on the ground and popped her hands in her pockets as she walked towards him. ‘Life must be treating you well, you're looking great.'

She obviously didn't know how shittily life had treated him, and she clearly didn't know about Shelley. And in a way he was relieved about that, because it meant she didn't have to feel sorry for him, like ninety-nine per cent of the people he talked to around Opals Ridge.

Renee stood in front of him now, her movements a little awkward as she reached out to hug him. ‘It's so good to see you.'

Dylan hugged her back, enjoying the sensation of her body against his a little too much as her familiar citrus and floral-scented fragrance lingered around him, enticing him back into their past.
My God, she's still wearing the same perfume
.

In the blink of an eye he was transported straight back to his adolescent years, back to when she was his and he was hers. Two teenagers, standing in the paddock at dusk, their arms wrapped around one another, the passion between them intensifying by the second. But along with the sentimental flashback, his resentment towards her for leaving him high and dry so unexpectedly returned too, alongside the immense hurt she'd caused him by accusing his father the day before she'd left town. It all resurfaced from where he'd long ago buried it, like a buoy rising rapidly from the depths of the ocean. And, once again, he felt as though he was cheating on Shelley. Abruptly pulling back, he tried to hide his discomfort by fiddling with his belt buckle.

Renee stepped back too, grinning a little too broadly. ‘Oh my God, it's been like—' she threw her hands up in the air, ‘—forever!'

‘It's been a little over nine years to be exact.' His voice was a little stern, and he tried to soften it by taking a breath. ‘You basically vanished without a trace, Renee. Where have you been all these years, hiding under a bloody rock?' Shit, now he sounded like he cared. His throat suddenly felt as dry as the Simpson Desert and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He would almost kill right now for a drink of water.

Renee's smile faded and her shoulders stiffened. ‘I'm so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I never meant to hurt you. If it's any consolation, it broke my heart leaving you like that too, especially with how things were between us.'

Silence fell, the sounds of the cockatoos in the treetops a welcome distraction. She bit her bottom lip, unable to hold his gaze any longer, instead looking down at her boots.

So unexpected was his reaction, and her apology, Dylan also found himself stunned into muteness. What a dickhead he was, bringing up what should have been left in the past. What was wrong with him? And what in the hell was he meant to say now? Thank God he'd made the appointment with the shrink. He obviously needed help to mend unhealed wounds—ones he didn't even know existed anymore, not to this depth anyway. And they were treading very dangerous waters here. He had come for a job, and that was that. Stanley Wildwood wouldn't take kindly to some bloke turning up for a job and then reminiscing with his granddaughter, no matter what the history was between them.

Dylan shook his head and looked to the skies, his hands on his hips. ‘Sorry, Renee, it doesn't really matter what happened back then. I'm just being a dickhead.' He brought his gaze to meet hers once again, this time with his emotions firmly under control. ‘It's all water under the bridge as far as I'm concerned. I've moved on with my life, as I'm guessing you probably have too.' There. Even though it was a white lie he felt much better, like he had gained some of his power back.

Renee's gaze travelled from his face, slowly down the tattoo on the side of his neck, and then to his left hand, something indecipherable flashing across her eyes as she spotted his wedding ring. He almost told her right then and there that he was a widower, but it didn't feel right to do so. This wasn't the time and place, and really, it wasn't any of her damn business. It would do her good to think he was completely out of her reach.

‘Yeah, life goes on, hey? Mine certainly has, too.' Renee laughed a little too loudly. ‘Any mini Andersons?'

‘I have a six-year-old little girl, Annie. Love her to bits. You?'

‘Me? Kids?' Renee blew air through her lips like a horse. ‘Nope, I haven't had time. I'm too busy with work.'

‘The good old
I've been too busy
, hey,' Dylan said, fighting to remove the disdain from his voice.

Renee looked at her watch. ‘Speaking of time… I'm sorry, Dylan, I really have to get going. I was meant to be down the paddock with smoko by now. Pa's going to be worried sick. I'd love to meet your little girl some time.'

‘It's a small town, you'll run into her one of these days, I'm sure.' His tone was a little cold. He felt like kicking himself for letting Renee's presence shake him up so much.

The galloping of a horse's hooves grabbed their attention before Renee had a chance to respond, and in seconds, Stanley Wildwood was upon them. By the stony look on his face, he wasn't happy at all. ‘Renee, I've been waiting for you for the past half hour, wondering if something had happened to you. By Christ, girl, you're going to give me a heart attack and you've only been back home for a few days. Not a good start, I must say.' Still in the saddle, and not waiting for Renee to answer, he turned to face Dylan, his eyebrows raised and his nostrils flaring. ‘And who in the hell are you, boy?'

‘I'm Dylan. Dylan Anderson.' He pulled his hat back on and stepped forward, his hand raised in offering for a handshake. He prayed to God Stanley didn't remember the last time they'd crossed paths—it'd be getting off on the wrong foot for sure.

Stanley gripped Dylan's hand like a vice, his eyes piercing through Dylan's as he held the handshake longer than necessary. ‘You're Peter Anderson's son?' The question held so much disdain that Dylan almost crouched down from the weight of it—his father was notorious around Opals Ridge for his many pub brawls and fiery short temper.

Dylan wished he could deny it, but he couldn't. ‘Sadly, I am.' He hung his head in shame. ‘Not that I'm anywhere near proud of the fact.'

A moment of silence passed before Stanley exhaled, a shadow of understanding in his blue-grey eyes. ‘Well, you can't pick your family, hey boy.' He let go of his vice-like grip. ‘And to what do we owe this visit, Dylan Anderson?' Stanley's stern tone of voice was softening, but still laced with caution.

His hand finally free, Dylan regrouped and stepped back to look Stanley in the eyes. He wanted to show he was nothing like his father. Stanley Wildwood was well-known for his intimidation skills, and the last time Dylan had been here Stanley had certainly intimidated him—chasing him off the property with a shotgun. But this time round, and with due respect, he wanted Stanley to see him as more of an equal. It was the only way he was going to get the job, especially with his father's bad reputation. ‘Rex Thompson mentioned you were looking for someone to help out around the place, so I thought instead of phoning you, I'd just pop out and ask.'

‘Is that so?' Stanley's scowl began to ease. ‘And what did Rex say exactly?'

‘Oh, not much really, just that he'd run into you and that you might be looking at hiring someone for a few days a week.'

‘Yeah, well, as long as you know it's not a permanent thing. Once my usual offsider, Mick, is fit to work again, I won't be needing extra help.' Stanley removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, his steely gaze never leaving Dylan. ‘You had much experience with cattle and horses?'

‘Know them like the back of my hand, Mr Wildwood. I got cattle of my own and I train horses for a living.'

Stanley looked impressed. ‘Well why do you want work somewhere else then, if you have your own property?'

‘Times are tough, and I just need a few days a week at the moment to tide me over.'

‘Fair enough. So I can ring Rex and get a character reference from him?'

Dylan nodded, still wondering whether Stanley recognised him from all those years ago. If he did, he was hiding it well. ‘Sure can. Rex has known me for years. And I can give you the name of my last employer too, at the Rutherford mine, if that helps.'

Stanley shook his head. ‘No help to me getting a reference off someone I don't know from a bar of soap. I don't trust any bugger I don't know. But I trust Rex. We've been acquaintances for years and he's a good bloke, so I'll give him a call tonight and let you know tomorrow. Okay?'

Dylan wanted to jump for joy, but instead remained cool and calm on the outside. ‘Yeah, that'd be great. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks Mr Wildwood.'

‘Right then, that's settled.' Tugging his hat down, Stanley turned his attention to Renee. ‘Come on then, Missy-Moo, we got us some cattle to tend to.'

Renee grabbed the basket at her feet, looking slightly embarrassed to hear her pa using her pet name in front of Dylan. ‘I'll just go grab Jackson, and I'll be with you.' She glanced at Dylan, her cheeks glowing red. ‘Will catch you another time. Was good seeing you again.'

‘Yup, it was good to see you too, Renee.' His voice was still a little steely.