Chapter Three
Garth Mackenzie ignored the feeling that had slammed into his chest when he’d spotted Lucy Bellamy crossing the paddock to the dam. He’d blinked, dropped the wire strainer, and rubbed a grimy hand across his eyes. For a moment he’d thought he was hallucinating from the heat. God, he’d been thinking about her, and here she was.
Memories hit him like a sixer. Harder than he’d hit the winning ball in the final over of the cricket match last week.
He had walked over to the fence line, and his horse ambled along behind him, munching the last tufts of dying grass around the fence posts. He had stood there and watched her floating in the dam for a few minutes before calling out to her.
The small copse of trees where they’d both lost their virginity one warm winter afternoon still stood in the middle of the wheat paddock. For a few weeks afterwards, he’d expected to see her grandfather arriving with a shotgun because they’d used no protection. Condoms weren’t something he’d carried when he’d been fencing back in those teenage years. He grinned; it had been a good lesson for an eighteen-year-old boy.
Those lazy afternoons popped into his head as Lucy stood in the water and waded towards him. Her one-piece swimsuit clung lovingly to her curves, and he let his gaze sweep her length. Her body was more womanly than when she’d been an athletic teenager, and her skin was fairer than it had been when she’d lived out here.
But she was still as drop-dead gorgeous as ever.
As he kissed her cheek and stepped back, he became the subject of her intense scrutiny. Her bright blue eyes held his, and her low and husky voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Come on over to the farm for a quick visit.”
He shook his head. “Thank you, but no, not at the moment. Your grandmother wouldn’t be too happy if I rolled into her kitchen.”
Lucy looked up curiously as she bent to pull on her boots.
“Nice look. Purple Blundstone boots and swimmers. Takes me back a few years.” He chuckled at the quirky picture she made.
Quirky, but still very, very beautiful.
A flush ran up her cheeks as she looked up at him. “Why wouldn’t Gran be happy about you coming over? You used to live in her kitchen when we were kids.”
Garth huffed a sigh and bit down on the regret that surfaced. “It’s a long story, Luce. When did you leave? Six years ago?” He knew full well exactly how long it had been since she’d left, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. A man had to have his pride. More than six years since he had last seen her. The first holiday he’d come home from university, he had discovered she had left for the city.
“Five,” she said.
“Well, I’m sure it won’t be long till you catch up on everything that’s happened while you’ve been gone.” His horse snickered and he turned. “I’ve got a crew waiting for me at the back paddock, so I’ve got to go. Come on over to my place whenever you want.”
“Your place?”
“Yeah, the olds handed it over to me. Dad said there was no point waiting till they carked it. They’ve moved down to the South Coast. Got a beautiful house on the water at Jervis Bay.”
“That’ll keep you busy.” She tipped her head to the side, and Garth caught his breath again. Lucy didn’t look a day older than when he’d graduated. Her dark hair was still long, and her fringe brushed her high arched dark eyebrows. Her lashes were wet from her swim, clumped together in long spikes framing those beautiful blue eyes. Yep, she was even more beautiful now. Garth struggled to catch his breath.
“Got any kids yet to carry on the tradition?” she asked with a smile that showed off her pretty teeth.
“None that I’m aware of,” he said with a grin.
“And your wife? Does she work in town or help you on the property?”
“My wife?” Garth fair snorted the words. “What wife?”
“The girl from Narrabri you married. That wife.” Lucy stared up at him with her hands on her hips. She was such a petite little thing. But he knew better than to be taken in by her looks. Lucy Bellamy was one of the kindest people he’d ever met, but she had a backbone of steel. Stubborn, just like her grandmother.
He shook his head and laughed.
“You got that one wrong. That was my cousin Brent. He got married just before Mum and Dad moved south. His wife’s family has a big cotton property out near Moree and he’s looking after that.”
“So you’re all settled here in the Pilliga by yourself?” Lucy’s forehead wrinkled in a frown, and a feeling that he’d been judged and found wanting flickered through Garth.
“No desire to see the world?” she said.
“Oh, I’m not quite a cow cocky, Lucy. I’ve travelled.” His voice was clipped, but he tempered his words with a smile. “But unlike some of us who grew up here at Prickle Creek, this is where I want to be. There’s no better place in the world for me.” He didn’t mention the three years in Perth studying his engineering degree or the following three years working in the mine in Western Australia, saving as much money as he could. Dad had thought he was mad, but even as the only child, Garth had refused to be given the property. He’d worked his butt off as a mining engineer for three years, and he’d paid for the beach house for his parents before he’d let them sign over the farm to him. The day he’d come home to Prickle Creek had been the best day of his life. Lucy didn’t need to know all that: she’d made her assumptions about him and it hurt, so he changed the subject.
“Now what’s this crazy thing”—he put his hands in a square to his eye, mimicking her action—“that you’re on about?”
“You’ve given me a fabulous idea, Garth. Can I come over to your place later and tell you about it?”
“Sure can. I’ll expect you after dinner. Okay?” He tipped his hand to his hat. “It’s been good catching up, but I have to go. Just came up here to fix the fence. The cattle were getting into the wheat.” He shook his head and couldn’t help the grin that was tugging at his lips. “Couldn’t believe my eyes when little Lucy Bellamy strolled along the road. It’s really good to see you again.”
“Not so little anymore.” Lucy reached for the bright yellow dress hanging on the fence and pulled it over her head.
“Still love your colours, Lucy?”
“I do.” Her gaze locked with his and he grinned; she seemed to be having as much trouble looking away from him as he was keeping his eyes off her. “I’ll see you later.” She smoothed her dress down. “That’s if you’re sure you want to have a city slicker come visit.”
With that parting shot, she turned and headed for the dusty red road winding around the paddock, where the wheat swayed in golden ripples as the afternoon breeze strengthened.
“I think I can cope with it,” he said drily. “See you soon, then.” Garth stood and watched her walk away before he turned to the waiting horse. Hot damn, her butt still swayed in that same sexy walk of old; the image of her in that brief little swimsuit and the purple boots was one he wasn’t going to lose for a long time. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Lucy Bellamy was flirting with him, and his interest had fired instantly. Shame, because the timing to follow that spark was off, the way things were at the moment, anyhow. Her gran had pretty much barred him from the farm next door.
Garth was thoughtful as his horse cantered down towards home. He shrugged as he slowed down to open the gate near the house paddock. Maybe Lucy didn’t know about the bad feeling between the two farms. Maybe it wouldn’t matter to her. His grin widened as he pulled the gate shut and looped the chain over it.
It sure didn’t matter to him.