He nodded to a group of farmers he’d met at the get-together and raised his beer in a toast toward Mrs Jessop’s daughter Laura. She toasted him in return and from the radiance of her smile he suspected there was more of her favourite Bundy rum than Coke in her plastic cup. He made his way around the edge of the dance floor, sidestepping a tuxedo-wearing youth who was busting some impressive dance moves.
With a sigh, he sank into the spare seat beside Paige and passed her a beer.
‘The things I do for a drink. It’s dangerous out there.’
Paige smiled. ‘The fellow who almost knocked your beers flying is Jake Lewisham. Until you arrived, he was the district’s pin-up boy.’
‘And now I am?’
‘You sure are. Two o’clock to your right. That group of teenagers haven’t taken their eyes off you since you walked in the door.’
‘Well, three o’clock to your left, here comes Mrs Jessop.’ He took a quick swallow of beer before standing.
‘Oh, young man,’ Mrs Jessop enthused as she planted a loud kiss on his cheek. ‘You are so to be congratulated. The menu is divine. And as for the oysters …’ She leaned forward as if she were going to kiss him again but instead squeezed his arm. She looked sideways at Paige. ‘Paige Quinn, don’t you dare let this one go.’
Releasing Tait’s arm, she covered her mouth with her hand and said, ‘I might need the name of your internet dating site for Laura.’
Then with a royal wave she headed to the next group of chairs, where Connor and Anne were seated.
Tait sat as the heavy scent of Mrs Jessop’s perfume faded. Paige leaned over and wiped the lipstick imprint of Mrs Jessop’s kiss from his cheek.
‘I thought ground rule one was no touching?’ he said.
‘It is.’ She leaned back in her seat, eyes serious. ‘Oysters?
You
ordered
oysters
?’
‘Yes, I wanted to give everyone a night to remember.’
‘That’s very generous of you, but you’re allergic to seafood.’
‘I’ll be fine. I’ve been to other functions where there’ve been oysters and prawns. Besides I’ve two EpiPens in the Jag’s glove box.’ He smiled to lighten the tension in her wide eyes.
‘That’s right, I have your permission to jab you with a sharp object if I need to.’ A smile curved her lips. ‘So where am I supposed to stick this very pointy needle?’
He placed her hand on his thigh and then covered it with his own. ‘Right there. And hold for ten seconds.’
Mischief shone in her eyes. ‘Right here?’
He nodded.
She dug her nails into his thigh like she’d done at the get-together.
He pried her hand from his leg with a grimace. ‘You know that didn’t hurt quite as much when I wore jeans.’
Her smile was unrepentant. ‘Wuss.’
He took a swig of beer, conscious that she continued to stare at him.
‘You know,’ she said, words soft, ‘I never thanked you for getting Grandpa’s Jag up and running for the ball.’
‘No worries. Your father and I replaced the water pump and it now runs like a dream.’
‘Hello, Paige,’ an elderly woman’s voice spoke to their left. Tait glanced up and looked into a pair of shrewd grey eyes. His grip on his beer bottle firmed. Trouble.
‘Hello, Mrs Jones,’ Paige smiled. ‘Mrs Jones, this is Tait. Tait, this is Mrs Jones.’
He got to his feet and shook the small hand the woman offered.
‘Tait, you say?’
‘Yes, Tait,’ Paige repeated in a loud voice.
‘Tait who?’
‘Tait Cavanaugh from Sydney.’
Mrs Jones’s eyes narrowed. Paige might have advised him to stay away from Mrs Jessop but this tiny lady posed a far greater threat. The lines on her face spoke of generations living in the area – his blood chilled – and generations of memories.
‘From Sydney?’
He nodded.
‘You sure do remind me of someone.’
He fought the tension crawling over his skin. In his peripheral vision he could see Anne and Connor stop their conversation and look across at them. Mrs Jones might be no taller than his shoulder but she had a voice like a megaphone.
‘I could. I must have that type of face. People often mistake me for someone they thought they knew.’
Over Mrs Jones’s shoulder he saw Monique from the grocery store beckon him over. He smiled. Thank God for country girls desperate to kick up their heels. ‘If you could excuse me, Mrs Jones, I’ve some dancing to do.’
Was there anything Tait
couldn’t
do?
Paige tried not to frown as she watched him do his thing on the dance floor. He certainly was following ground rule number three: go out and have some fun. There were plenty of blokes doing the familiar side-to-side shuffle. But no, not Tait. All slick moves and fluid masculine grace, he twisted, twirled and threw his dance partners up into the air. And as many girls as he’d danced with, there were more waiting.
She tore her gaze away from where his trousers pulled tight across his butt as he shook his tail-feather to the Blues Brothers. She’d better things to do than to drool over him as though the latest member of his fan club. Plucking his coat jacket and tie from where he’d dumped them onto her lap, she hung them over the chair next to her. Her fingers lingered on the fine wool fabric. Material rustled as Anne came to sit on her other side.
‘How’s the foot going?’
‘It’s actually not too bad. Thanks so much again for the sandals. I’ll take good care of them.’ She plastered a smile she didn’t feel onto her face. ‘But I wish they’d bring out some food. I’m starving.’
‘It won’t be long. I saw some waitresses taking trays of hors d’oeuvre around on the other side of the hall.’ Anne patted her hand and then stood. ‘Your father and I are just over here if you need anything or want some company.’
This time Paige’s smile wasn’t forced. ‘Thanks.’
The song ended and Tait headed for her. A waitress waved a tray of oysters toward him. He grinned and shook his head. She held out his drink as he slid into the seat beside her. He winked his thanks before the tanned skin of his throat rippled as he took a long swig. Instead of handing the beer back to her and heading out on the dance floor, he put the bottle beside the chair leg and reached for her hands.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, trying to pull her fingers free as he drew her to her feet.
‘Making sure you have some fun.’
‘I
am
having fun.’
‘Yeah. And pigs fly.’
He swung her up into her arms. Stiff and unyielding, she hissed, ‘Put me
down
!’
‘You’re going to dance at least one dance with me.’
She shook her head and wriggled but he tightened his arms around her. ‘Behave yourself, Very Important Princess.’
‘So help me, Tait, put me bloody well down.’
‘Or what?’
The heated look she shot him would have had her cousin Charles quaking in his boots. Tait merely grinned.
‘Scowl all you want, but the only place I’m putting you down is the dance floor.’
He turned towards the centre of the hall.
‘Tait, please. People are looking.’
‘Good. Then you’ll behave yourself.’
Eyes on her face, he carefully lowered her onto the edge of the dance floor. ‘I’ve got another ground rule for you. No running away.’
She clenched her teeth. ‘I never run away.’
‘Great. So hold on here.’ He set her hands upon his shoulders. ‘Come closer.’ He pulled her against him. ‘Move those hips and smile.’
‘I’m going to throttle you for this,’ she said in a low tone as she flashed what she hoped qualified as a smile towards Mrs Jones, who sat nearby, her eyes trained on Tait.
‘I’ve no doubt that you will.’ His hands left her waist to settle in the small of her back like they belonged there.
‘No touching.’
‘We’re not touching. We’re dancing.’
Despite her determination to remain as straight as a fence post, she began to sway to the slower tempo song.
‘Much better,’ he said into the hair above her ear, his warm breath turning her insides into honey.
If possible he pressed her closer against him. Even through the layers of her dress she could feel the strength of his thighs as he matched his slow, seductive movements to hers. Beneath her fingers, through the thin cotton of his shirt, she could feel the heat of his skin and the flex and pull of his muscles.
‘For once relax, will you,’ Tait said, his mouth even closer to her ear. She couldn’t contain the tremor spiralling through her.
She pushed against his shoulders. ‘I can’t do this.’
Something in her face must have given away her growing sense of panic and he loosened his hold. ‘Paige, it’s okay, we’re just dancing.’
‘Well, I’ve had enough of dancing. I’ve had fun. Now I want another beer.’
‘Fair enough.’ He swept her into his arms and carried her to their seats. ‘I’ll get you a beer.’
But her drink was a long time in coming. First, Tait stopped to chat to Banora Downs’ neighbour, Rod Taylor. The angle of Tait’s body towards Rod indicated that whatever they discussed was of great interest. Next he was intercepted by Monique, who gestured towards the dance floor. He nodded and kept moving. Then he briefly stopped at Connor and Anne’s chairs.
‘Sorry,’ he said as he finally handed her a beer. ‘Now if you’re okay, I’ll get back to having fun.’
‘Thanks for the beer …’
But he was already gone. She watched his shoulders disappear into the dancing throng and blanked out the sadness sliding through her. Things were as they should be. Tait wasn’t hovering by her side. No one seemed any the wiser that they weren’t a real couple. And a community brought to their knees by drought had, for a brief while, had their burden lifted. So why then did she feel as though she’d lost, not gained, tonight? Why did the knowledge Tait would soon be gone hang over her like bushfire smoke?
She looked at the dancing crowd again and saw Tait had moved to the edge closest to her. He had Sarah on one side and Monique on the other. A squeal of laughter turned Paige’s head. Bundy and Coke in hand, Laura swayed towards a waitress whose tray contained the last of the hors d’oeuvres. Laura scooped up an oyster and dropped it into her mouth. Another shriek of laughter sounded. No doubt the girls were all enjoying the fact oysters were an aphrodisiac. Laura passed her drink to a friend and then hips swinging to the music she crossed to the dance floor. Sarah moved to allow her room to dance alongside her and Tait. As if in slow motion, Paige saw Laura grab Tait’s arm, stand on her tiptoes and plant a kiss
on his cheek. Tait smiled and turned as if to say something and Laura’s kiss landed on the corner of his mouth. Paige half-rose from her chair and then sank down as Tait laughed and moved away. Laura may have just eaten an oyster before kissing Tait, but he appeared fine.
Then he stopped dancing. His hand moved to his throat and he swung around looking for her.
Broken foot forgotten, Paige shot to her feet and yelled, ‘
Anne
!’
Paige raced toward Tait. It didn’t matter how impassive his face, or how straight he walked toward her, she knew he was in trouble. Even as she watched, the light dulled in his eyes and the colour leached from his skin.
Somehow she heard Anne’s calm voice by her side, ‘Paige? What’s wrong?’
‘Tait’s EpiPens. They’re in the Jag’s glove box!’
‘On my way.’
Hands shaking, Paige grabbed Tait’s arm and put it around her shoulder to steer him to the closest chair. She placed a hand on his chest to steady him and the urgent beat of his heart drummed into her palm.
‘Everything’s going to be okay,’ she said over and over again. Breathing now laboured, Tait sagged into the chair, his weight almost knocking her over. She righted herself and ripped open his shirt, trying to make it easier for him to breathe. She clasped the hand he clawed at his throat and his fingers fastened around hers. Eyes closed, he slumped lower in the chair, dragging in great gulps of air.
‘Hang in there, Tait,’ she said, forcing her frantic words to slow.
The hand she clasped fell to his side as if all his energy had become concentrated on drawing a single breath.
Silver flashed as Anne passed her the uncapped EpiPen. Paige wrapped her hand around the pen in a fist and jammed the needle into his thigh straight through his trousers.
She knew her mouth moved when she counted to ten but she wasn’t sure if any sound came out. The only thing she could hear was Tait’s harsh, anguished breaths. She pulled out the EpiPen.
‘I’ve called the Flying Doctor,’ Anne said, her quiet voice sounding as if from a long distance away. ‘They’ll be here soon to take him to Dubbo hospital.’
Paige couldn’t nod. Couldn’t answer. All her attention was focusedon the cityboy she couldn’t bear to lose.
‘Work, EpiPen.’ Tears burned her eyes. It was taking forever. Her fingers clutched at his hand. ‘Work. Damn you.’
Then the fingers she held gripped hers back. Tait’s eyelids flickered and his breathing seemed a little less torturous. Thank God. Her vision misted. The adrenaline from the EpiPen was kicking in. She leaned over and pressed a kiss on his forehead. His hand squeezed hers again.
Paige became aware of her surroundings. No music blared. No glasses clinked. No voices were interspersed with laughter. Instead there was only a dazed and sombre silence.
A sob hiccupped to her left. She looked to where Mrs Jessop had her arms around a crying Laura.
‘He’ll be okay, Laura,’ Paige said, words gentle. ‘You were only having some fun. You didn’t know he was allergic to oysters.’
She looked around at the sea of grave faces. ‘Crisis is over, everyone. Tait will be fine. Clarry, go get that music started. Myra, maybe you could go and see where the caterers are up to. It must be almost time for the main meal.’
Feet shuffled as people moved away and voices murmured. The music restarted. Paige looked at Tait and saw his eyes open and rest on her.
‘Thanks,’ he said, voice hoarse. ‘I was feeling like the latest exhibit at Sydney’s
Taronga Zoo.’
He sat a little straighter, breathing still an effort. She kept hold of his hand. She may have reassured everyone the crisis was over but the uneven rise and fall of Tait’s chest suggested otherwise. She glanced through the doorway, praying to see plane lights flashing in the night sky.
‘Do I need to do anything else?’ she asked, her throat raw.
‘Use the second EpiPen …’ He stopped to suck in a deep breath. ‘If you have to.’
She nodded.
A fleeting smile played across his lips. ‘But don’t get … used to sticking sharp objects … into me.’
A gentle arm slipped around Connor’s waist and the comforting scent of lavender enveloped him.
‘Tait will be okay,’ Anne murmured. ‘And Paige will too.’ They watched the Flying Doctor aeroplane lights until they were nothing but a blur on the horizon.
At the warmth of Anne’s touch, Connor put an arm around her narrow shoulders. ‘It’s all my fault,’ he said, his voice thick with misery. ‘Paige didn’t want to go tonight. Tait wouldn’t even be here and away from medical care if it wasn’t for my damn plan.’
‘If Paige hadn’t come, no one would have known what to do. She knew where the EpiPens were and had been watching him like a hawk.’ Anne’s voice lowered. ‘And as for Tait, you know he has his own reasons for being here. He could just as easily have had an anaphylactic reaction in the city. But at least tonight he had someone who cares about him looking out for him.’
Connor’s gaze scanned the empty sky. ‘She does care about him, doesn’t she?’
‘Yes, Mr Matchmaker, she does care. And going from the way he looked at her when she said she’d go with him to hospital, he cares about her too.’
‘But is it enough? Will caring about each other be enough when Paige realises Tait isn’t who she thinks he is? You know how much she values honesty.’
‘Remember what Molly used to say? Things have a way of working out. And if she were here now, she’d say exactly the same thing about Paige and Tait.’
But Anne’s reassurance failed to quell his unease. ‘This time I just don’t know. There are too many things that could go wrong.’
‘Things
will
work out, you’ll see. Now please come inside. Let’s have dinner and then I’ll drive home.’
Connor put weight on his cane and turned. ‘Thanks, Anne. I don’t know what we … I … would do without you.’
‘You’re very welcome.’ Her shy smile warmed places of his heart that he thought would never thaw again. ‘You know no thanks are necessary.’
He returned her smile and together they made their slow way towards the hall. As they reached the light streaming through the doorway, he saw Mrs Jones and Mrs Jessop talking. Mrs Jones’s voice sounded above the music.
‘I know who that young man of Paige’s reminds me of!’
Connor stopped. By his side, he felt Anne stiffen.
‘That girl …’ Mrs Jones continued. ‘What was her name? Lillian, I think. The one always running around with young Molly and Anne. Don’t let his fancy last name fool you. I’d bet my last prize-winning jar of tomato chutney that that boy is Lillian’s son. He has her eyes.’ Mrs Jones gazed around the hall. ‘Where’s Anne? She’ll know.’
Tait’s secret was out.
If Paige had said her foot felt like it’d been run over by a cattle truck, he felt like he’d been hit by a road-train.
He opened gritty eyes and went to ease himself up in the hospital bed. The intravenous drip attached to his arm pulled tight and he lay back down. He took two attempts to swipe a clumsy hand over his face. Whiskers rasped beneath his fingertips. He was as weak as a newborn calf. Those damn oysters.
There was a whisper of satin. He slowly turned his head. In the dim light he saw Paige curled up asleep in the chair. Her ball dress might be a mess and her French twist in ruins but he’d never seen her look more beautiful. The tightness of his throat had little to do with any anaphylactic shock.
He’d fallen for Paige the instant she’d spun around to challenge him in Connor’s office. Sure, he’d put up a fight, believing her unselfishness couldn’t be genuine. He’d then ducked and weaved, saying he had a job to do and he couldn’t allow her to dilute his focus. But he’d had no defences against the strength of her spirit and the sweetness of her smile. He’d come to Banora Downs to find answers but instead he’d found the one thing he thought he wouldn’t ever find. Love.
Paige stirred on the chair.
‘Hey,’ he said, his voice little more than a croak.
Her head lifted and unlike the other times he’d woken her, it was
his
name and not her father’s that she uttered.