Chapter Ten
Sebastian was still in his boxers and drinking his second coffee when Liam arrived on horseback just after light the next morning. He’d slept well, but he’d had crazy dreams about Isabella. They’d been taking photographs together in Italy, but he’d lost her in a vineyard and had spent most of the dream trying to find her. Rose bushes with gigantic blooms had kept snagging him and he couldn’t find her. He’d slept through the first alarm and woken with a start when the wind had sent something crashing against the side of the house.
“Enough left in the pot for me?” Liam asked with a wide yawn as he came through the back door.
“Sure. Help yourself, I’ll go and get dressed.”
“We’ll be on horseback most of the day, and that wind’s cold. It’s turned to the south, so you’ll need a jacket.”
“Yeah, I heard it hit about an hour ago.” Sebastian crossed to the window. Grey heavy clouds were building from the south, forecasting a wet and cold day.
He grimaced.
Yuk. A wet day on horseback.
Not his first choice for a way to spend a day.
“Won’t be all day for one of us,” he said hopefully.
“Why, what else is on?” Liam looked up from pouring his coffee.
“Gran rang last night. They’re flying in to Narrabri at lunchtime and want to be collected.”
“Do you want to go?” Liam’s look was intense. “Or would you rather I did?”
Sebastian shrugged, not wanting Liam to think he wasn’t up to spending the day working. What he would have preferred was to boot up his laptop, load the pictures he took last night, and layer some of the raw images. “We could both go. You wanted to look for those tractor parts, didn’t you? Probably more chance of getting them in Narrabri than in town here.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Liam carried his coffee over to the table and pulled out a chair. “Get your skates on because I want to cut out the cattle in the back paddock. We should just have time before we go.”
“Yes, sir.” Sebastian shot him a grin and headed for the bathroom. A quick shower would wake him up.
Old Sam was Sebastian’s favourite mount; the old white horse whickered a welcome as they walked across to the horse paddock, and Sebastian took a deep breath of the fresh country air as he stroked his nose.
“Did you miss me, Sam?”
It wasn’t so bad once they were out in the paddocks and the cattle were cooperative. The rain held off, and once they started work, Sebastian shed his coat.
After the cattle were secured in the new paddock, they rode the eastern boundary fence together. Liam had noticed some cattle from the property next door on their land the other day and wanted to find where they’d broken through the fence.
“That old bloke Ferguson does nothing to keep the fences in good order. Pop’s been complaining about him since we were kids.” Liam shook his head.
“I remember that.” Sebastian looked around. They were on a slight rise and could see to the horizon in all directions. “Now that Jemima’s over at Daniela, and Lucy’s with Garth at the McKenzie farm, most of the land we can see is part of the family holding, apart from the Ferguson farm.”
“Yeah.” Liam pulled his horse to a stop. “I want to talk to you about that. I reckon we should make Ferguson an offer for his place. He’s got no kids, and he’s getting a bit long in the tooth to be worrying about a property that size. He hasn’t had a wheat crop in for the last few years, and it’s prime land.”
Sebastian swivelled around in the saddle. “How are we going to afford that?”
“We could do it with a loan. Do you have a problem with us expanding?”
“Haven’t we got more land now than we can handle?” He bit his tongue before he could add that there were only so many working days in a week.
“It’s manageable and the extra land to plant wheat would double our income in five years or so. The loan wouldn’t be an issue.”
Five years. Will I still be here doing this every day in five years? A heavy feeling settled in Sebastian’s gut, but he didn’t say anything.
“Sounds like something we should give serious thought to,” he said, injecting enthusiasm that he didn’t feel into his voice. “Let’s sit down with Pop and see what he thinks once they’ve been home a few days.” Maybe he hadn’t put quite enough enthusiasm into his tone because Liam shot him a curious look.
“If we do go ahead, it’ll mean working seven days a week until we get the harvest over. You up for that?”
“This year’s harvest?” Sebastian settled a bit; that wouldn’t be too bad.
“No, the first harvest from any wheat we plant on Ferguson’s place, if we do buy it. It’ll be a year or two before we harvest over there.”
The heavy feeling in Sebastian’s stomach solidified into a rock. “Okay. We’ll talk about it with Pop.”
They didn’t speak again until they were almost to the house paddock, and Sebastian reined in his horse.
“Oh damn. Will you look at that!”
Liam pulled up his horse beside him. “I know. It’s about time we got it fixed. But until the feed prices come down, we’ll just have to put up with it.”
Sebastian looked at him with a frown. “Put up with what?”
“The old pump. What were you looking at?” Liam put his hand up to his eyes and squinted. The sun was bright and reflecting off the iron roof of the hayshed.
Sebastian nudged old Sam and he took off at a canter as the lush house paddock came into sight.
“Yeah, the pump. Shame about that,” he said to Liam when he caught up to them.
Sebastian was quiet as they took care of the horses. He hadn’t even noticed the damn pump. If he’d told Liam he was looking at the rainbow that had framed the wheat perfectly as it arced above the irrigation spray, and cursing that he wasn’t holding his camera, he knew he would have gotten a disgusted look.
He bit back the sigh that threatened as they headed back to the house for smoko.
…
Isabella woke up, determined to put a bright spin on the day, no matter what her father said. Nothing had changed with her dad, and nothing would change, unless she could convince him to sell or shut up shop and go back to Mum in Italy. At least last night had been fun and being with Sebastian had lightened her mood.
She pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and wandered down the stairs. A busy day stretched ahead: finalising the menu for the wedding, and making calls to suppliers, although both Angie and Jemima had asked her to source as much as possible from the local IGA supermarket.
“Too many businesses are closing; we need to shop local as much as we can,” Jemima had said.
“Yes, I noticed the street had changed a lot since we left school. I don’t know how Dad keeps the milk bar running.”
As she pushed open the plastic strips that divided the back of the kitchen to the stairway, the buzz of conversation met her.
“Good girl,” her father said with a huge grin as he rang up a sale. “I was about to call you. Shirley and I can’t keep up.”
Isabella widened her eyes. The crowd waiting to be served at the counter was three deep, and every table inside the café was full. She stood on her toes and looked over the crowded café. The tables outside were all occupied, too.
She rolled up her long-sleeved T-shirt. “Okay, tell me what to do.”
“Do you remember how to work the coffee machine?’
“I do.”
“Thanks, sweetheart, make a start there. There’s about ten orders backed up.”
Isabella shook her head, surprised at how busy the milk bar was. The first few coffees were collected by Shirley, the waitress, and then when they caught up, Isabella delivered them to the tables.
“Are you Con’s daughter?” an older lady asked as she placed the coffee on the table.
“I am.”
“I could tell,” she said. “You look like your father. He’s a fine-looking man.”
Isabella bit back a giggle.
Maybe once, but there isn’t much of a resemblance between us these days. Dad was bald, and his tummy was quite large. She watched as Dad talked to the patrons at the tables. His voice boomed out, his eyes bright as he turned on the charm and had the group of elderly ladies at the back hanging off his every word.
An hour later, the last group walked out and Isabella drew a breath. “How often does that happen?”
“Not as often as I’d like,” Dad said as he filled the sink with hot water. “It was the annual general meeting of the CWA.”
“Ah, so a one-off.”
“At least I knew they were coming, and Shirley cooked up a few cakes for us, didn’t you, Shirl?” He looked around with a shrug. “Where did she go?”
“Last I saw she was heading for the back alley with a cigarette.”
Her father shook his head. “Thanks for the help anyway. It’s a shame—”
“No Dad. Don’t start. I’m in a good mood. I was happy to help out, but now I’ve got a lot to do. I’ve picked up a second job for while I’m here so I have to get this wedding organised.”
“Another job? I won’t see you if you work too much. What’s this second job?”
“I’ll be helping Sebastian with a photo shoot.”
Isabella refused to let the look of crafty satisfaction on his face get to her. If Dad wanted to think she might hang around here and not go to England because she’d fall for a local guy, and use her to make coffee in the milk bar when he was busy, that was his problem, not hers. She wasn’t going to let it put her in a bad mood again.
But it’s hard.
She headed back upstairs and picked up her to-do list for the day. Biting her lip, she looked at her phone sitting next to the computer, and before she could change her mind, she picked it up and hit speed dial.
He answered immediately. “Bella, hi. What are you up to?”
“Hi Sebastian, can I arrange a time to come out and have another look at the kitchen and ovens at the farm?”
“Sure.”
“When would suit you best?” Isabella twirled her hair around her finger as she waited for his reply.
“Listen, why don’t you come tonight? We’re having a bit of a get-together. Just the family. And everyone will be here to answer any questions you might have about the wedding.”
“Um. Are you sure that would be okay?”
“It’ll be perfect.”
“Okay as long as you’re sure. What time and what can I bring?”
“About six thirty.” The laughter in his voice was clear. “Roses and champagne?”
Isabella smiled but she injected a prim tone into her voice. “This is a working visit, not a date.”
“Damn, I thought it was worth a try.”
“You’re mad, you know that?”
“So they tell me. And hey, thanks for the company last night.” His voice was soft. “I really enjoyed myself.”
“Me, too,” she said.
“Bella?” She loved the deep husky tone when he lowered his voice.
“Bring your dad with you. Gran and Pop are home. Maybe he’d like a night out, too.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring my specialty, too.”
As Isabella set off to the IGA store with her menu and list, she still had a smile on her face.