‘You wanted a fire hose,’ she said above the roar of the water, ‘this is close enough.’
The dirty water gave way to a clear, steady flow. Paige took off her hat, tossed it onto dry ground and stepped into the chest-high stream. After the heat of the sun the coldness of water knocked the air from her lungs. She turned in a circle to make sure every skerrick of mud would wash away. Then, spine towards the spray, she leaned backward to allow the water to clean her hair. The relaxing pressure on her scalp caused her to smile. It’d seemed like a lifetime since she’d had a head massage at a hairdresser.
Convinced she was at last clean, she walked out of the water to see Tait leaning against the windmill, sunglasses on and hat pulled low over his brow.
‘Aren’t you going in?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Most of my mud has dried and brushes off.’ He pointed at her feet.
‘Besides I don’t think you’re quite done yet.’
Paige looked at what a minute ago had been pale pink toes – once again they were brown as the slurry from inside her jeans ran over her feet. The same effect was happening at her waist, as the mud beneath her singlet leached out over her jeans. On the outside she was clean, but not on the inside of her clothes.
She sighed. She had to remove as much mud as she could now to save water at the homestead. She flexed her shoulders as a small, slimy creature slipped between her shoulder blades. She also didn’t want to take any uninvited dam guests home. Her lace bras had long since perished, leaving her with her practical bras, one of which she now wore. Before self-consciousness could sabotage her intentions she reefed her singlet top over her wet head. Her black bra would be no different to a bikini top. She again walked into the water. When she was certain her torso was mud-free, she lowered her hand to the button of her jeans. She hesitated. Even though city boy Tait wouldn’t look twice at a mismatched, cotton-undie farm girl, she wasn’t in a hurry to parade around before him.
Above the gush of water she heard her name called. Tait had left his post by the windmill and beckoned at her. She stepped out of the water, wiped a hand over her face and touched her tongue to her salty bottom lip.
‘Here, put this on.’ Tait dragged off his khaki shirt and held it out to her. ‘Then you can take off your jeans, get clean and I just might let you back in the ute.’
‘Okay.’ She reached for his shirt that was still warm from his body and smelt of mud-tinged aftershave. ‘But let me remind you I’m the only one who knows the way home, so unless you want to walk, I’m inside the ute, dripping or not.’
Tait turned away from the sight of Paige pulling his shirt over her head. He didn’t need to add
any more pictures to his mental gallery. The image of a smiling and relaxed Paige wearing little but wet low-slung jeans and black bra would be indelibly burned in his memory long after he’d left Banora Downs. When she’d licked her bottom lip it’d taken all of his willpower not to tug her close and kiss her.
He walked towards the ute, took off his hat and tunnelled a hand through his hair. What was happening to him? Never had he allowed a woman to short-circuit his self-control. Never had he come so close to doing something reckless and impulsive. And he wasn’t starting now. He had to stick to the game plan. He’d come to Banora Downs for two reasons, one business and the other personal. Nowhere on his list was anything written about mixing business with pleasure and definitely nothing about kissing Paige’s salty lips.
‘Sweet dreams, Gidgy,’ Paige said as she rested her hip against the wooden fence of the pony paddock closest to the homestead. Eyes closed, the now-clean pony dozed in the dimming dusk light as though hours ago she hadn’t been near death. One day Paige would have to face losing Gidget, but it wouldn’t be today.
She’d been twelve when her mother had given her the pony. She could still recall the tightness of her mother’s arms around her as she’d whispered ’Happy birthday’ in her ear, and the brightness of the red scarf hiding her bald head after her first round of chemotherapy. For four years they’d battled to keep the cancer at bay. Then three days before her sixteenth birthday, on a black, bleak, winter’s night, the cancer had won. Paige had been unable to cry-she’d no tears left - but her soul had wept just like her father had behind his closed office door.
She swallowed to ease the ache that, even now, could still burn in her throat. She knew she should head inside; her father would have dinner ready soon. But she couldn’t move. Something more than exhaustion anchored her boots to the ground.
She’d almost failed today. Failed Gidget, failed her mother and failed in her duty to look after Banora Downs. There was no excuse for altering her routine and feeding Gidget at a different time. It couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t allow Tait to disturb the status quo
any further. She turned towards the homestead on leaden feet. Even if she’d already broken her vow to not accept his help, tomorrow was a new day.
The screen door slammed behind her as she entered the darkened hallway.
‘Paige?’
Tait’s broad shoulders blocked what little light streamed in from the kitchen before a click sounded as he flicked on the hallway light.
‘How’s Gidget?’ he asked as he approached.
Paige braced herself against the concern gentling his voice and disregarded the tea-towel draped over his shoulder. It didn’t matter how human he sounded or how attractive he looked, she couldn’t afford to see him as anything but a paying guest.
‘Fine. Thank you.’ She winced as Tait’s gaze narrowed. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so formal. She spoke again. ‘She’s sleeping off her adventures in her old paddock.’
Paige crossed to the carved cedar staircase. On the second step she stopped and grasped the smooth balustrade. ‘Please tell Dad I’ll be down to say goodnight after my shower.’
Tait moved to the side of the stairs. With the height added by the two steps, she was at his exact eye-level. The purpose tightening his mouth held her motionless, more so than if he’d again secured her wrist. ‘What about dinner?’
‘I’m worn out. Dad will know to keep it for later.’
‘You only grabbed a sandwich when we had a late lunch. You have to eat.’
She held his hard stare with her own. ‘I’ll eat when I’m hungry and I’m not right now.’
‘Fine. But if you don’t come and eat dinner with us, the ute keys are staying in my jeans pocket.’
Paige glanced down at the clean, dark denim moulded to his lean hips. ‘That’s blackmail.’
‘Exactly. Eat. Or you’ll be the one walking tomorrow.’ He turned to retrace his steps to
the kitchen.
Her other hand latched onto the solid, steadying balustrade. ‘Tait … wait … I’m too tired for this. Please give me the keys.’
‘Not a chance.’
She thought of the softness of her mattress. She wasn’t going to play his little game. It was nothing to him how many meals she consumed. She knew her limits. It was sleep not food she needed. She’d eat when she was hungry.
She looked at the doorway through which he’d vanished, but she had to get those keys. The spare set had departed years ago with the last workman and Paige couldn’t ever justify the expense of cutting a new set. She was the only person who drove the ute and she always knew where the keys were. She stepped off the stairs. She wasn’t leaving the kitchen without the keys, even if it meant slipping her hands into the pockets of Tait’s snug jeans and pulling them out herself.
She entered the large kitchen and was greeted by the almost forgotten smell of roast lamb. But it was the sheen of silver and shimmer of crystal on the set table that slowed her steps. Connor must have spent hours this afternoon polishing the cutlery and candelabras. For him it mattered that a proper dinner for their guest returned them to a time when the house echoed with laughter and to a time when her mother had been well. Paige put her hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘This looks nice.’
‘Yes, it’s been a while since we dusted all the good stuff off. Even though I couldn’t find your mother’s gravy boat.’
‘That’s because it’s in here.’ Paige moved to a top cupboard and stood on her toes to pull out a white china gravy boat. She carefully wiped it clean with a cloth before placing it onto the laden table. She eyed off the third place that had been set for her. She glanced at Tait, who leaned against the sideboard watching her. No wonder he’d been so insistent she
join them for dinner but he could have told her about the special effort her father had made instead of hijacking her keys.
She smiled at Connor. ‘Can I have a quick shower?’
‘Yes, the last of the vegetables will be ready in ten minutes.’
‘Perfect.’ She approached Tait and held out her hand. He pushed himself away from the sideboard but didn’t reach into his jeans pocket. ‘Not so fast. I want proof.’
‘Proof?’
‘Yes, proof of food being eaten before the keys are returned.’
She clamped her lips shut.
He put his hand into his pocket and the jingle of keys sounded. ‘You’d better go have that shower.’ The left side of his mouth lifted. ‘You’ve only eight minutes and you don’t want your dinner to get cold.’
Tait’s amusement faded as a frowning Paige disappeared into the hallway. Fighting to save her pony today had taken its toll. The bruises of fatigue beneath her eyes were more pronounced and it seemed as though each step she took was an effort. When she’d climbed the stairs in the hallway, she’d swayed. He’d moved closer, convinced she’d fall. She would work herself into a shadow to save her home and take care of her father without a thought for her own needs.
Restlessness filled him and he swung to the sink drainer where a pile of washed saucepans waited. He pulled the tea-towel from his shoulder and wiped the closest item. Behind him he could hear Connor collecting things from the fridge.
What would have happened if he hadn’t been there to help her today? He’d no doubt Paige would have pushed herself beyond endurance to save Gidget and had she failed she’d
have shouldered her anguish alone. He’d noticed the way she spoke about the farm to Connor. She always mentioned the positives and glossed over the finer details, like exactly how many cattle she’d be feeding. The small holding paddock contained far fewer head than the numbers Connor had shown him. How long could she go on protecting her father? How long could she endure the financial stress and worry before she crumbled?
He placed the saucepan on the bench. The answers to such questions shouldn’t be his concern. All Connor had asked him to do was to provide a financial plan and to look at Banora Downs through objective eyes. So why then did Paige preoccupy his thoughts instead of cash flows and statement of positions?
He stared through the window above the sink at a night sky lit up by stars instead of air-traffic. He’d stepped out of his air-conditioned car onto the red dirt of Banora Downs into a different world and become a different man. He’d lost direction and he must get back on track. He now only had three days remaining until he should be returning to Sydney and he hadn’t even begun to make any inroads on the real reason that had brought him out west. He had to start asking the questions that he needed the answers for before the past gripped him any tighter.
‘Tait?’ Connor said. ‘Dinner won’t be much longer.’
Tait released the hold he’d taken on the sink’s edge. ‘Sorry. I was admiring the stars. Things look different out here.’
‘Yes, they certainly do.’ Connor waved a hand towards the table but his gaze didn’t leave Tait’s face. ‘Take a seat. I hear Paige coming downstairs.’
‘Will do.’ He draped the tea-towel over the remaining saucepans. ‘First, I’ll pour the wine.’ He picked up the bottle of his favourite Cabernet Sauvignon that had been breathing on the sideboard. It’d made the journey from his cellars to Banora Downs intact despite the potholes and cattle grids his car had rattled over. He lifted the wine to his nose and soaked in
the full-bodied aroma. The fragrant bouquet connected him with all that was familiar and predictable. His tension receded like waves at low tide. The strong scent of apples eclipsed the wine’s scent. Paige must have broken the land-speed record to wash her hair and return in under eight minutes.
He glanced up. Not only was her hair clean but she’d changed out of her shapeless work shirt into a black top that clung in all the right places and revealed the delicate hollow of her throat. Just in time, he glanced down at the wine glass he continued to fill. He jerked the bottle upright before the goblet overflowed. So much for being back on task. Nothing said ‘out of control’ more than vintage Cab Sav splashed across a snow-white tablecloth.
He sneaked a look at Paige but she was flicking through the pages of the wall calendar beside the hutch. He filled the last wine glass then sat at the table. Paige seated herself at the place her father had set for her. His intuition slipped up a gear. Her eyes sparkled more than the crystal glass he’d almost drowned. He’d wager his prized V12 car she was up to no good.
A simple roast had never tasted so good. Paige forked the last piece of lamb into her mouth and chewed, savouring the final mouthful.
Of course her enjoyment had everything to do with her father’s cooking and little to do with the city charmer who sat across the table from her. It didn’t matter how much wine Tait poured into her glass, how amusing his stories, she’d only prolonged finishing her meal because she’d hadn’t heard her father really laugh in a long while. She was adhering to her decision to steer clear of Tait, and after confirming a date on the calendar, she had the perfect solution.
‘So what do you have planned for us to do tomorrow?’ he asked as he raised his wine
glass to his lips.
Paige placed her knife and fork onto her empty plate. She inclined her head towards the keys resting beside Tait’s plate. ‘First things first. I’ve eaten.’
He slowly slid the keys over to her. She pulled them into her hand. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
She shook her head and secured the keys into the safety of her jeans pocket. ‘Nada.’
‘Have I missed something? Isn’t there a broken fence to fix?’
Connor excused himself and wheeled away from the table to head into the pantry where the deep freeze was located.
‘I can handle the fence on my own,’ she said. ‘You and Dad will be otherwise engaged.’
‘Otherwise engaged?’
‘Yes. It’s school holidays and tomorrow there’s a social gathering at the school between us and Glenalla.’
‘And Connor and I are going?’
‘Exactly.’
‘What about you?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve already had two days in town and away from the farm. It’s Connor’s turn to go out.’
‘What if Connor and I will only go if you come with us?’
‘Well, I’d say that’s not your decision to make. Dad and you are perfectly able to go on your own.’
‘How about I ask Connor before we make any firm plans?’
He went to push his seat back to go in search of her father.
Paige dipped her hand into her right jeans pocket. She smiled sweetly. ‘All the answers
you need are right here.’ She uncurled her fingers to reveal his car keys. ‘And before you ask, yes, I have both sets.’
For a nanosecond his eyes darkened and then laughter lightened them to a clear blue.
‘That’ll teach me to leave my bedroom door unlocked.’
‘So it’s go with Dad or I’ll take your car for a road trip of a lifetime out to the very rocky back paddock.’
‘When it comes to my car, I’m not even going to try to negotiate.’ He held out a hand. ‘You win.’ The unspoken words ‘this time’ hovered in the air between them.
Paige plonked the keys into his palm. ‘One now and the other when I have proof.’
‘Proof?’
‘Yes, when you get back from spending the day with Connor.’
‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ her father said as he emerged from the pantry, a square, frosted tub on his lap.
Paige crossed the kitchen to pick up the ice cream and deposit it onto the bench. Tait must have bought the special treat when they’d been in town. She’d noticed the big esky had been missing from the pantry shelf.
‘Yes, you did,’ she said. ‘Tait said he’d love to take you to the get-together tomorrow.’
Connor smiled. ‘You would?’
Tait nodded. ‘It’ll be a good opportunity to show you what my car can do.’
‘I’ll look forward to the experience.’ Connor turned to Paige. ‘We’ll leave after breakfast?’
‘I’m not going.’ She placed three bowls onto the bench-top and pulled open a drawer to search for the ice cream scoop. She knew if she looked at her father he’d see through her ruse of staying home and sending Tait out with him. ‘You both go.’
‘Possum, you have to go,’ Connor said, brow creased. ‘You volunteered to distribute
the care parcels.’
‘The delivery of care parcels from the city isn’t due for weeks. I’ll help Anne sort through them at next month’s get-together.’
‘But this is a different truckload from a charity down south in Victoria. I’m sure Anne said she’d let you know.’
Paige ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach. ‘No, no phone call.’ She ripped off the plastic lid and scooped ice cream into a bowl. Just when she’d finally guaranteed she’d have a whole Tait-free day, her plans couldn’t now unravel.
‘What about on your mobile?’ Tait asked, tone smug.
Paige shot him a so-not-helpful look but put down the ice cream scoop to head to the basket she’d taken from the ute earlier. Please don’t let there be a message. She fossicked in the basket and located the mobile beneath the debris of water bottles, work gloves and first aid supplies.