Chapter Eleven
Garth watched as Lucy strolled along the edge of the dam wall towards him, her head down. He’d come down early and put out some yabbie nets, remembering how much Lucy used to love to fish for the muddy crustaceans. Years ago, he’d stood behind her, holding the string, showing her how to feel the tug and pull the suckers in from the muddy water. She’d been so excited when they’d pulled the nets in. Garth had been more excited by the press of her soft curves against his chest.
Back in those happy days, it hadn’t taken much to make her smile. These days she seemed preoccupied. The only time her face lit up was when she was talking about her work. Her job was in Sydney, six hundred kilometres and a seven-hour drive away. He frowned—even though he’d only spent a small amount of time with her, the thought of Lucy leaving Prickle Creek Farm again was not one he was very keen on.
Maybe he’d spend a bit of time in the big smoke when he got the farm sorted. Keep in touch, go down and visit.
Yeah, and pigs might fly.
There was no future there. He wanted to stay on the farm and get married. Raise a family. Start his own dynasty. There was nothing to be gained by going to the city. Lucy and he wanted different things from life now. He had to remember that, and not live on the old memories. No matter how much he loved the sexy sway of her hips.
Even though the work was hard, Garth knew he’d made the right choice. Six days between Christmas and New Year each year was the only time his parents had ever left the farm for the annual family holiday up to Mooloolaba on the Sunshine Coast. When he’d taken over six months ago, in the excitement of being a landholder, he’d forgotten the long, hard slog and the daily grind of running a five-thousand-acre property. But up until this week, spending all his time on the farm and not being able to get away much hadn’t bothered him. He loved his farm, and he loved living in the Pilliga Scrub. Hell, he wasn’t even going to take the traditional break when the next summer holidays came around, even though Dad had offered to come home and give him a spell. He didn’t need one, and he didn’t want one. Maybe in a couple more years when he was settled.
“Hey, Garth.” Lucy called down from the top of the levee bank at the edge of the dam.
“Hey, Lucy-Lou.” Garth put down the string he was holding and placed a small rock on it to keep it secure.
“I didn’t think you’d be here already,” she said with a hand up to her eyes. The sun was setting and the golden shafts of light reflecting off the dam were bright.
“Came down and parked in the shade a while back.” He nodded to the small stand of trees where he’d parked the ute. “And then I came down to the water to set some nets.” His eyes ran over her lush curves moulded by a snug pink T-shirt. Her lips were a shiny pink, the same colour as her shirt. “I remembered how much you enjoyed yabbie fishing.”
“Eww, I forgot about the yabbies in the dam when I swam the other day. No more swimming in that one!”
Garth laughed at the look of horror on her face. “Come on, they don’t bite. Where’s my country girl gone?”
Lucy held his gaze, and a strange shimmer ran though him. It was more than desire; it was a strong need to get to know her again, to make her smile, and take away those shadows from beneath her eyes. He shook himself mentally and looked past her. There was no point in following that line of thought. “Where’s your photographer?”
Lucy put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “My fault. They all went out on horseback to check the cattle at the back of the property, and I forgot to ask him. They didn’t even come in for lunch. But I left him a note to come out here when they get back.”
Garth kept his eyes on her face, ignoring the clingy T-shirt. “So while we wait for him, we have time to catch some yabbies.”
He reached up and held out his hand to Lucy at the top of the bank. She grabbed his outstretched fingers, and as she stepped down her boots sank into the soft side of the dam wall, and the red dust caved in to reveal a network of small holes.
“Good sign. The yabbies have been burrowing in the bank, so there must be a few in the water.”
Lucy followed him over to the water’s edge, and Garth glanced across at her. “Want to pull the first one in?”
Her nod was enthusiastic, and he watched as she gently picked up the rock and tugged at the string.
“Feels heavy.” A delighted squeal left her lips as she pulled the string and the first net cleared the water. “Oh, look. Five beauties.”
“Dinner.” Garth gestured to the ute before he bent and lifted the huge crustaceans out by the back of their shell. He was wary of those huge nippers. He’d had them latch onto him more than once, and it wasn’t pretty. “I threw in a pot and a rack and some rock salt on the off-chance we caught some.”
Lucy’s smile sent another ripple of need running through him. “What about your special sauce?”
“You remember?” He looked at her quizzically as he dropped the yabbies into the bucket and snapped the lid on.
“How could I forget such a gourmet delight?” She tilted her head to the side, and he watched as she ran the tip of her tongue over full pink lips. “Equal parts tomato sauce and condensed-milk mayonnaise, if I remember correctly. Right?”
He held his fingers to his lips in an Italian gesture. “Spot on, food of the gods.”
“I used to think about you and that sauce whenever I went to the flash seafood restaurants in the city. Always made me smile.”
“Nice to know you were thinking of me, Luce.” He wiped his wet hands on his jeans and reached up and cupped her face in his palm. “I thought of you, too. Often.” He held her gaze steadily, and the soft evening light deepened the mauve shadows beneath her eyes. An unfamiliar surge of protectiveness ran through him. “Wondered where you’d got to and what you were up to. And I’m proud of you, now you’re a mover and shaker in the world of advertising. I thought you might go into the music business. I remembered how much you used to love country and western music. Or has that changed now you’re a city dweller?”
She grinned at him. “No way would I give up my music. I haven’t missed the Country Music Festival at Tamworth for the past three years.”
“Oh, you lucky gal. That’s still on my bucket list.”
Lucy leaned over and bumped his shoulder with hers. “And guess who signed my T-shirt last year.”
“Who?” Garth smiled back; her eyes were dancing with excitement.
Lucy’s voice was sweet as she sang, “But how’s a country girl gonna play, when her working day is over?”
“No shit?”
Lucy nodded.
“For real? You met Lee Kernaghan?” Garth was impressed. “You’re a city girl and you still sing C&W?”
“I did, I am, and I have the T-shirt to prove it,” she said with a grin, and turned as the sound of an engine came over the levee bank.
“So how about tonight? Wanna come over later?” He tried to keep the neediness out of his voice. Sheesh, what is wrong with me? “It would be nice to have some company.”
“I’ll let you know later, okay?”
Garth ignored the disappointment shooting through him.
“Did you ever start the great Australian novel you always said you’d write one day? You were always such a fabulous storyteller at high school.” He watched as she pulled the string again. Another successful haul, and she smiled.
“So the book?” he pressed.
Lucy shook her head but didn’t answer his question. She pointed up the hill. “Oh good, here’s Seb now. And the light is just about perfect.”
Garth walked thoughtfully behind her as she clambered up the bank in front of him. He’d been leading too much of a lonely life over the past six months. Combine that with the memory of Lucy lying next to him as they’d spent the afternoons discovering each other on a picnic rug at this very dam; it was no wonder she interested him so much now. That’s all it was; he’d get over it when she went back to the city.
He’d have to.
…
Lucy had put aside the novel she’d written in the months following Mum’s death. She didn’t want to think about it, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it. Reading her words had frightened her; her vulnerabilities and her deepest desires had been exposed in the story that had poured from her and filled the void that grieving had left. She’d put too much of herself into her story. Never for public consumption, not if she wanted to be seen as a confident twenty-four-year-old.
But Garth’s words had left lingering warmth in her chest. Not only had he thought about her, he sounded genuinely pleased that she was making a success of her career, and he’d remembered her writing dream. With any luck, his willingness to be a part of this campaign would contribute to her career success and she would be well on the way to shaking up the advertising business.
Funny how things came around, wasn’t it? Life was strange.
Back here in the Pilliga Scrub and the opportunity she’d sought for so long in Sydney was right here in front of her.
And looking mighty fine, too. Mighty fine.
The sun was hovering above the horizon and the bank of clouds in the western sky was a deep pink. Seb jumped out of Pop’s ute and slung a camera around his neck before sauntering over.
“Not such a bad idea, Lucy. Best light ever out here.” He held out his hand to Garth and shook it firmly as he greeted him. “Didn’t get much of a chance to say hello the other day, Garth. How’s things over at the Mackenzie farm?”
Lucy lifted her head and watched, surprised as Sebastian and Garth chatted about cattle prices. Her eyes narrowed as Seb’s voice rose enthusiastically when Garth told him about the rise in prices on the radio at midday.
“Missed that,” he said with a sidelong glance at Lucy. “We were out on the horses. Ended up mustering the back paddock.”
She stared at him and shook her head with a grin. “Who is this man?” Her grin turned into a chuckle. “Aliens have taken my cousin, the photographer. Can you take photos, too?”
Sebastian pulled a face at her. He wore a pair of old work trousers and a khaki shirt. The only hint of the metrosexual from the city was the man bun that Lucy knew was tucked beneath the battered Akubra. He’d even taken the diamond stud out of his ear before he’d arrived at the farm. No need to give Gran ammunition for another blue, he’d said.
“He’s here and he’s ready to get to work.” Seb held his camera up. “Let’s go, if you want to catch this light.”
Lucy enjoyed the next hour. Positioning Garth against a tree trunk, with the light filtering though the dry leaves behind him, meant she had to run her hands down his muscled arms. Removing his hat, running her fingers along his jaw, and tilting his head and mussing his hair sent the butterflies down her thighs. She swallowed and focused on being professional.
Seb clicked away as Lucy instructed Garth where to put his hands.
“And stop smiling.” She stepped back and put her hands on her hips and regarded those sexy lips set in a smile. “I want you to look rugged, yet mysterious. It will be a real contrast to the sexiness of the underwear.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. Never thought I’d find myself in this position.” The quiet confidence in his voice as Garth tried to compose his face into a serious expression put paid to any of her thoughts that he might be embarrassed. He was more professional than most of the models they worked with in the city, and as Lucy lifted a hand up to Garth’s hair again, Seb winked at her.
“If cattle and wheat prices go down, he can come to work as a model in the city. What do you reckon, Luce?”
She caught Garth’s eyes on her, smiled up at him, and nodded. “Sure could.” Reaching over to adjust the sleeves of his T-shirt, she pushed them up a little so that the curve of his biceps caught the light. Her fingers lingered over his warm skin, smooth and tanned beneath her touch.
As she reached across, he leaned down and his breath whispered against her ear. “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”
Heat rushed up her neck at the same time goose bumps rose where his breath had lifted her hair away from her neck.
She was, and it had nothing to do with the advertising campaign she should be focusing on. Her voice was prim as she hid her response. “Enjoying what?” she said with a little shrug. “This is what I do every day.”
Seb chuckled, but the look he shot her was intense. “You wish, Luce.”
Garth leaned against the tree with a smile, just looking bloody beautiful.
“Light’s gone.” Seb put his camera down. “Great work, guys. How are you going to get the shots to the agency, Luce?” They’d despaired of the dodgy internet connection when Seb had tried to download some files this morning.
Garth pushed himself away from the tree trunk and came across to them. “Feel free to come to my place. Remember, I said you can use my connection, and the offer to cook the yabbies is still open, too.”
Lucy nodded. “Thank you and yes to both. Much appreciated.” She was surprised to hear her voice so calm. The feel of Garth’s skin and muscles was burning her fingertips, and her legs were like jelly. The warm and earthy smell of him wafted over as he moved closer, and she looked up. His T-shirt was now damp with perspiration, despite the deepening dusk, and she stared at him, unable to help herself. The shadow of stubble along his jawline and the lock of hair that fell across his brow conspired to keep her eyes fixed on him. He was too good-looking for her peace of mind.
“We’ve got some yabbies to cook up. Would you like to stay and have some with us?”
Garth glanced across at Seb, and she wondered if she was the only one to hear the reluctance in his invitation.
To Lucy’s relief, Seb shook his head and turned towards the ute. “Thanks, but no. Gran wants Liam and me to look at the cattle records with her again tonight, while the numbers are fresh in our minds.” He glanced back at Lucy and grimaced. “She’s coming around slowly, but I’ll warn you, she wasn’t too impressed to hear why I had to come out here and meet you.”
Garth gave a rueful grin. “And I’ll have dropped even lower in her opinion.”
“No, Garth. She’s going to apologise to you. It didn’t take long for her to see that you were right about Brian.” He opened the ute door and placed his camera carefully on the passenger seat. “So you don’t want a lift back, Luce?”
“No, but I won’t be long.”
She stood close to Garth as Seb drove off. Once the noise of the motor receded, all was quiet, and she kicked nervously at the dust with her boot. There was a tension between them that had begun as she was touching his skin, and she knew it wouldn’t take much for it to burst into flame—on her side, anyway.
“Speaking of flame,” she said, and then stopped as a wave of heat flamed her face when she realised she’d put her thoughts into words. “I mean, do you want me to gather some sticks to start the fire?”
When Garth spread the old yellow-and-black-chequered picnic blanket on the red dirt, Lucy looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. She could have sworn it was the same one he’d had in his old ute when they’d swum at the dam the summer before he’d left Spring Downs. She’d spent quite a few afternoons lying on that rug. After his year twelve exams were over, on that glorious summer holiday before Garth had left town, she’d taken every opportunity to spend nights out at Prickle Creek Farm with Gran and Pop. Mum and Dad had teased her; they’d known full well that the attraction was not the farm or her grandparents. It had been an idyllic summer; she and Garth had swum and hiked and fished for yabbies. They’d lain on the old chequered blanket looking at the brilliant stars in the clear night sky and sharing their dreams. They’d tentatively explored each other’s bodies and slept under the moon and stars.
The water in the large battered pot was just short of coming to the boil on the crackling flames. Lucy sat and stared into the yellow, gold, and blue fire, lost in her memories while Garth opened the lid on the bucket and when the bubbles began to rise, he carefully dropped the yabbies in the water. She grinned and glanced down at her watch. It had always been her job to time the cooking.
“Three minutes, I know.” She nodded as Garth held up three fingers. She stood in front of the fire watching the pot swing on the tripod.
How did I let those memories go? Of the wonderful times they’d spent together? It was as though living in the city had pulled a curtain over that part of her life. She hadn’t forgotten those happy weeks; it was just that when Mum and Dad had died, she’d pushed anything to do with Spring Downs and Prickle Creek Farm into a part of her brain that she never ventured into.
Now, sitting out here in the warm night, staring into the flames, the years disappeared and the curtain shifted a little. She explored the memories. It was like probing a sore tooth. Test and pull back, until you knew it wasn’t going to hurt anymore. Garth must have sensed her introspection. He pottered around quietly, and she looked at him gratefully when he lifted two camp chairs and a small fold-up table from the back of the ute.
“I remembered how much you hated the cat’s head prickles,” he said with a smile.
Nostalgia flooded through Lucy. How could she have walked away and never called him? Not once had she contacted Garth after she’d moved to Sydney and started her new life. He’d been relegated to the place where she’d grown up, the place she’d kidded herself she hated.
“One minute to go.” She looked at her watch as she sat down in the comfortable chair. Garth lifted an esky from the ute, and she smiled again as he lifted out a bottle of tomato sauce and a jar of homemade mayonnaise and put them on the table. He reached in again and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“You did have this all planned, didn’t you? Just as well we caught some yabbies.” Lucy took the glass of wine Garth poured and held out to her. She sat back and sipped as he lifted the pot from the fire with a pair of strong pliers, and tipped the water down the hill. He sat the now-red yabbies on an enamel plate on the table to cool before pulling the other chair over beside hers.
The fire crackled and hissed, and Lucy stared into the flames, searching for the right words. Finally she turned to him. He was leaning back with his head resting on the high soft back of the chair, his eyes closed. His profile was sharply defined against the night sky, and a rush of feeling filled Lucy.
“I’m sorry I lost touch with you,” she said softly. “Everything changed after the accident. I’d only been at uni a few weeks when Mum and her sisters left for that trip.” He turned and looked at her without speaking. “I guess after it happened I just wanted to cut all ties with the place.”
“No need to explain, Luce. I was just as slack. I could have called you.” He turned back to the fire and leaned forward. “I was in Western Australia. I qualified as an engineer, and I worked in the mines over there. I’ve only been back on the farm six months.”
Lucy’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “I had no idea you worked in the mines.”
As she watched, Garth’s expression closed. “You thought I was just a cow cocky?”
“No. To be honest, I didn’t let myself think about you at all, Garth.”
“I’m sorry. Dad was really unhappy when I said I was finished with uni and told him I was going out to the mines. I guess I’m still a bit sensitive.”
“That’s okay. We all carry stuff from our families.” Lucy looked down as he reached for her hand. “But now that we’ve reconnected, I hope we don’t lose touch again.”
“We’ll make sure we don’t.” Garth held on to her hand as they sat quietly staring into the flames.
Finally he broke the silence. “So tell me, what’s going on with your grandparents? How come you’re all home? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.” Lucy shook her head. “I mean, yes, apart from getting old, everything is fine with them. I just don’t know if I’m okay with the way things are going.”
Garth’s glance was curious, and she squeezed his hand before she let go and reached for her wine.
“We’re all staying here—home—for a few months. To learn about the property and to take it over, eventually.”
She saw the glint of his teeth in the firelight as he grinned. “That’s fantastic. You’ll be around for—how long?”
“Three months. We’re taking it in turns. Liam and I are first.” She spoke slowly as doubt assailed her.
“So what’s wrong?” Garth picked up on her hesitation. “You don’t sound very keen.”
“I think I only agreed to it because the others were so determined to listen to Gran. I mean, I don’t want Gran and Pop to sell the place, but I’m not sure it’s what I want.” She waved a hand around at the land surrounding them. “You remember. I hate all this stuff. The heat, the smells, the dust…”
“That’s not the Lucy I remember.” His voice was soft and caressing, and she hardened her tone.
“It’s the new Lucy after I went to Sydney…after I left the district. Really, there was nothing I liked about being out here on the farm when we came out from town.”
“Nothing?” There was a cheeky tone in Garth’s voice.
“Well, maybe some of it was okay.” She looked across at him and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh no. I totally forgot that you said you had made an offer for the place. You probably don’t want us out here, anyway.”
Garth pushed himself up from the chair and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. The moon was high in the velvet sky, and the pale light glinted off his dark hair. She stared at him, and his voice was full of passion as he held her gaze.
“No, don’t ever think that. Yes, I could expand my land holdings, but I just didn’t want to see the farm go to one of those big foreign investors. That’s why I made the offer.”
“What do you mean?”
“Half of the Pilliga is quietly being bought up. There’s coal-seam gas exploration happening, and these companies see a huge profit in owning land out here.”
“But they can’t do that.” Lucy was filled with dismay. “You mean put mines like there are all over the Hunter Valley out here in the Pilliga?”
“Not quite open-cut mines here, but it will still have a dreadful effect on the water table. But there is talk of open-cut mines out on the Breeza Plains. I’ve joined a farmers’ alliance group, and some of the proposals would make your hair curl.” He shook his head. “And it’s all kept very quiet until it’s too late to do anything. I’ll get Liam and Seb on board, too. I’m sure they haven’t heard about it. It’s all very hush-hush.”
“That’s dreadful.” Lucy squeezed his hands. “But how could you afford to buy a property the size of ours?”
“I’ve already got the approval from the bank, but if the place is staying in your family, that’s fine. I really have enough on my plate, and I don’t want to have to hire anyone to help out. I’ve got a couple of young guys who come out after school and on weekends, and that’s all I need with my place.”
“You do love it here, don’t you?”
“It’s my life,” he said. “I missed it so much when I was over in the west.” He grinned at her as he stood and pulled her to her feet. “There’s no place like home, Dorothy. Come on, your yabbie feast awaits.”
He brushed a light kiss on her lips and dropped his hands to her hips. He held her gently, and Lucy stared up at him as he lifted his head. Garth smiled at her, and desire quivered in her stomach. He dropped his head again, and this time her lips clung to his until he moved back and turned his attention to the now-cool yabbies. Lucy put her hands to her lips. She couldn’t imagine Garth anywhere but here.
The question was, where was home for her?