Gum tree gully, p.22
Gum Tree Gully, page 22
Shrugging her shoulders in a deliberate attempt to try and shake the contemplations off, she ran her fingers through her sweat-damp hair and pulled it up and into a messy bun before heading back into the homestead. The scent of frying bacon, eggs and mushrooms met her, enticing a growl from her stomach.
With her tastebuds luring her towards the kitchen, when she eyed the chef she got that same sparkly feeling in her stomach she always did when she was in the same room as him. ‘My god, Connor, something smells really good.’
‘Yeah, that’s just my natural scent.’ Plucking a tray of perfectly grilled tomatoes and crispy-looking bacon from the depths of the oven, he placed it onto the sink. ‘I’ve just got to poach the eggs, and Bob’s your mother’s brother.’
‘You’re spoiling me.’ Tossing the mail onto the bench, she edged in beside him. ‘You don’t have to come over here and cook for me, you know, I can fend for myself.’
‘Yeah, I know, but a random day off calls for a good old cook-up and a decent cuppa, all of which to be enjoyed out on the back verandah.’
‘You are so Aussie, Gunn.’ She snatched a piece of bacon and jumped just out of his reach to devour it.
‘Damn straight I am.’ Connor wandered past her and offered a playful glance. ‘That good, huh?’
‘Oh my gosh, yes, what did you do to it?’
‘A little drizzle of maple syrup, and a whole lotta love.’
‘Nice combo.’ She licked the remnants from her fingertips. ‘Would you like me to get cracking with some toast?’
Stirring a hefty dollop of butter into the sizzling mushrooms, he nodded. ‘Yeah, that’d be great, cheers.’
She manned the toaster, all the while unable to keep her eyes off the way his back muscles pulled his polo shirt taut, or how nice his butt looked in his board shorts. Startled when the toast popped up, she turned to see one of the pieces was jammed. After flicking the switch off at the wall, she used her fingertip to try and edge it out.
‘Ouch, bugger.’ She raced to the tap and turned it on, sticking her finger beneath the stream of water.
‘Crap, Sammie, are you okay?’ Tossing his tea towel, Connor came to her aid.
‘Yeah, all good, I got attacked by the toaster.’
Taking her hand, he assessed the red skin as if it was made of the most delicate glass. ‘You’re going to have a whopper of a blister.’ He looked at her, way more concerned than a slightly scalded finger warranted. ‘Do you know if there is any aloe vera in the garden?’
Chuckling, she placed her hand against his chest. ‘Bless your sweet heart, Connor Gunn.’ Her smile was soft. ‘But honestly, I’ll be fine.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’
She got to work buttering the toast, after he’d retrieved the offending piece, while Connor dished up their feast. Cosied up on the verandah, they devoured it like a pair of hungry teenagers and then kicked back, with their feet up on the railings of the front verandah, and enjoyed their cups of tea that Samantha had made.
‘I suppose I better head home and get some jobs done.’ Connor looked to her, his woeful expression telling her just how much he didn’t want to go. ‘I could stay here and happily hang out with you all day, but the agisted horses won’t feed themselves.’
‘I can come and help, if you like,’ she said, a little too hastily.
‘Yeah, actually.’ His face lit up. ‘I’d love that.’
‘Great, I’ll go grab my boots and meet you at the LandCruiser.’
‘Righto, I’ll take this lot and dump it in the dishwasher.’ He collected the dirty plates, cutlery and cups from the coffee table.
‘Leave it, Connor, I can fix it up when I get back.’
‘All good, it’ll only take me a sec.’ He gestured to the door with a tip of his head. ‘You go sort yourself out.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ Samantha couldn’t help but fall for him that little bit more, with his kind, simple gesture.
An hour later and they’d loaded his ute up with feed. Climbing behind the wheel, Connor took a glug from his water bottle and then revved the engine, turned around and they headed down the bumpy track. He pulled up at the start of the agistment paddocks.
‘If you want to swap, Sammie, you can drive, and I’ll do the heavy work up back.’
‘Actually, do you mind if I do it?’
‘You sure?’
She nodded, eager to get her hands dirty. ‘Positive.’
Jumping out and then up on the tray, she got to work, heaving the bales of hay to the edge and over the fence to the waiting horses. Connor rolled from one paddock to the next, each time checking in to make sure she didn’t want to swap. Which she didn’t. She loved the hard yakka. Had missed it, actually. They reached the last paddock that housed Connor’s horse, Banjo, and pulling to a stop, Connor jumped out. Tail high in the air, the gelding gave a loud snort, then pig-rooted all the way over to them. Skidding to a stop just shy of the timber fence, he flicked his head and whinnied cheekily, his teeth bared in a horsey grin.
‘I think he’s showing off in front of you, Sammie.’
‘Is he now?’ Samantha pushed the last bail out and over the fence, and then laughed at Banjo’s flamboyant arrival. ‘I think he’s a bit like his owner.’
Connor’s sideways glance was sexy as hell. ‘Fair play, Evans.’
She offered him a sassy smile in response. ‘Ha, you love it.’
‘You got me, I do, love it, that is.’
Her boots thudded on the ground beside him, and he held a hand up to steady her. She couldn’t help but notice how he took care of her, always. And it made her feel warm and fuzzy all over, as if the sun belting down upon her back was reaching inside her, its rays caressing her heart and soul.
‘Right, my awesome sidekick.’ Conner turned his attention from Banjo to her. ‘Time’s a-ticking, and next up, we have a calf to feed.’
‘Oh my gosh, really?’ She jiggled on the spot. ‘Can I feed it?’
‘Yeah, of course you can.’
‘Yay.’ She clapped. She couldn’t get to the stables quick enough.
After mixing it up, Connor passed her the bottle of milk. ‘Here’s his dinner.’
Grabbing a nearby bucket, she turned it upside down, and sat. ‘Here you go, buddy.’ The calf drank greedily from the bottle, so much so she had to tighten her grip. ‘Holy heck, this little cutie has a death grip on this thing.’
‘Yeah, he’s a bit of a guts.’ Connor ran his hand over the calf’s russet-coloured head. ‘I can already tell that he’s going to be a tough nut, this one.’
Samantha pulled the bottle back to check if there was any milk left in it. Bleating, then poking his head through the gaps in the railings, the calf craned his neck, trying to grab hold of the teat again.
‘I’m sorry, buddy.’ Samantha chuckled as she wiped her hands on her jeans. ‘It’s all finished.’
‘You’ll get more tomorrow, my friend.’ Connor gave its head another loving ruffle.
The calf bleated a few times in response.
Samantha reached over the railing and gave the calf a loving pat. ‘Bye, cutie pie.’
‘That’s what his name is going to be,’ Connor said as they headed back towards the LandCruiser.
‘What, cutie pie?’ She guffawed. ‘Get out, as if you’re going to holler “cutie pie” when you want him to come to you.’
‘Why not?’ Connor gave her a look that spoke of earnestness. ‘I’m going to have to, if that’s his name.’
Samantha was silently chuffed Connor had done such a sweet thing. Oh, her heart, how much more could it melt for this amazing man?
‘Would you like a cold one, before I drop you back?’
‘Would I ever.’ She didn’t want to leave him, not for a second.
After kicking their boots off at the farmhouse’s back door, they washed off in the laundry before traipsing into the kitchen in search of icy-cold beers. With two retrieved from the depths of the fridge, they headed back outside and cosied up on the settee. There was something to be said about a country sky at sunset. Peachy orange hues turned what had been a bright blue, cloudless sky to a bronzed ochre, as if the heavens had caught a golden tan from the warmth of the day. It was so spectacular, Samantha couldn’t drag her eyes from it.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it, Sammie?’
‘It sure is.’ Smothering a yawn, she rested her head against his shoulder.
And they remained like that as they witnessed the setting of the sun, comfortable in each other’s company, and in silence. Somehow, someway, being back in the place that had been her home longer than London ever had, around the people who loved her completely, had given her a sense of peace she hadn’t ever felt before. And it was so nice to have arrived back to a comfortable place with Connor, too. Yes, a lot was left unsaid between them, but that’s the way it needed to be, because declarations were going to do them no favours. She needed to get her life in order first and foremost, before she stepped into any new chapters of her life. And then she wondered how Shea and Jack’s honeymoon was going, and whether Amaya was enjoying time with her grandad in Tasmania.
‘I’m in love with you, Sammy.’ Connor’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere.
‘Pardon?’ Her exclamation was more a whooshed breath than a word as she sat up rod-straight.
‘You heard me.’ His smile was soft and warm, like a hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night.
But she felt more like she’d just had a triple shot of coffee. Needing to move, she shot to her feet, nailing him to the spot with her stare. ‘I did, but I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do with such a blatant declaration.’
‘Whatever you like.’ Sighing, he momentarily looked to the floor, then back to her. ‘I’m so tired of keeping how I feel to myself, Sammie, and I suppose I just wanted you to know before you go back to London, because I do love you, always have and forever will.’ He cleared his throat and then shrugged. ‘Is that such an awful thing to make you aware of?’
That look in his eyes, so sincere, so tender, how could she be on the defensive? Yes, she was terrified, but … ‘I don’t know how we’re going to work, Connor, given the fact I’m literally tied to London with my business being there, for the time being.’ She gave him an apologetic look. ‘And I have no idea when, or if, that’s going to change.’
‘I get that, but tell me, do you feel anything more than friendship between us, Sammie, and please, before you answer, be honest, with me, and yourself.’
He was the epitome of perfection, so why couldn’t she tell him the absolute truth? What in the hell was wrong with her? ‘Not enough to say I’m in love with you.’
‘But you do, love me, that is?’
‘Of course I do, Connor, we’re long-time friends.’
He drew in a breath, but remained silent, his gaze searching hers for any sign that she wasn’t telling him everything. Which she wasn’t. And with the uncanny ability he had, of getting to those parts of herself she kept under lock and key, well, she wasn’t going to risk him discovering her deepest feelings.
‘Sammie, please, talk to me.’
With anxiety filling her, her mood nosedived. ‘I already have.’ She turned away and looked to the star-studded sky before he witnessed the tears building in her eyes. ‘I think it’s time you dropped me back home.’
‘I’ll go get my keys.’ He heaved a huff, and then his footfalls began to make distance between them.
The slap of the screen door jolted her, and she used the few moments to gather what she could of herself before their journey back to the homestead. She really needed to stop spending so much time with him. She was giving him hope, where there was none. And she loved him way too much to do that to him. Tomorrow, it was time to stop running from her past, and to face it, head on.
CHAPTER
19
Looking to the sunny blue sky, Samantha questioned how it could be so bright and beautiful at a time such as this. Stinging tears threatened and a lump rose in her throat as she stood out the front of the Gum Tree Gully cemetery, very alone, very apprehensive, but also very determined. More so than she’d ever been. She wasn’t certain she was ready to cross the boundary she’d mentally created between her parents’ life and death, but would she ever be ready to revisit the grave of the two people who had meant the absolute world to her? The very two people who should have been at her side throughout every trial and triumph? Grief and anger choked her chest, and she almost turned around, but the drive to finally do what she feared the most out of anything in this world overcame her. Her parents were dead. Forever gone. She needed to see that and find a way to finally accept it. Then, and only then, she might be able to move into the life she was meant to be living, instead of constantly running away from Gum Tree Gully and living a lie.
Exhaling her held breath, she took that step, the one that would lead her down this proverbial trail. A few metres along, she met with the front gate. It looked tired and weather-beaten. She gave it a little nudge with her foot, but it didn’t move an inch. Griping it tightly, she yanked hard and it finally gave, as if acknowledging her fortitude. Head held high and shoulders back, she strode through. The iron gate clanged closed behind her, as if announcing her arrival to the dead. Running her fingertips along the weathered grey tops of the timber picket fence line, she travelled down the path on autopilot. She walked past old graves graced with tall headstones and the occasional statue. She walked past children’s graves, some cornered off with ornate fencing and little gates. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was to keep their innocent spirits in, or the evil spirits out?
Trailing a bend, she reached a ridgeline and the wind whipped up and over the rocky outcrop, feathering wisps of hair across her cheeks. Ghost gums began to crowd either side of the path, the landscape in this part of the cemetery older, more established. She tried to shake the eerie feeling of the dead all around her. Thankfully emerging from the dappled shade of the towering trees, she took a few more steps over a pebbled track, then stopped in her tracks as she came face to face with her parents’ graves. A shuddering breath resonated throughout her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She gripped the strap of her handbag tightly. Tears threatened and momentarily blurred her vision, but she squared her shoulders once again and blinked faster. Their headstones sat proud and tall, just like her father had always been. Yet there were weeds trying to outrun his final stance of pride. Dropping to her knees on the grass, she snatched at the weeds with anger, and then plucking a packet of wet wipes from her handbag, she began cleaning each of the headstones. When that was done, she sat back on her haunches and read the verse that had been inscribed on both headstones.
Do not stand upon my grave and weep
Instead rejoice the many happy memories you keep
Live not a day, encumbered by sorrow
Instead rejoice my life, and look forward to every tomorrow
What was she meant to do? Rejoice in their deaths?
‘Why did you have to take them from me?’ she shouted skywards.
Folding forward, she brought her hands to the ground, one on her father’s grave and the other on her mother’s. It was then, in this hard-hitting, earth-shattering, moment, that the walls she’d been building for eleven long years, brick by brick, finally cracked and crumbled, and for a long while she sobbed her broken heart out, her tears soaking the earth her mother and father now called home. She wasn’t sure how long it was before she eventually turned over and lay on her back, arms splayed. The day was getting on, but she didn’t want to leave, not yet. Looking to the lacy white clouds drifting across the cornflower-blue sky, she watched each fleetingly shadow the sun, momentarily darkening the world around her, before the cottony softness floated onwards, and the harsh glare of the sun hit her again with force, as if slapping her cheeks in a bid to tell her to snap out of her lie, so she could see the life she could have – god willing.
And there it was.
The realisation she’d asked her parents for on the verandah of Shea’s hotel room.
Sitting up, she grabbed her phone and stabbed her message before she changed her mind.
* * *
For some strange reason, even after the way he and Samantha had parted on shaky ground, Connor had woken with the feeling that today was going to be a game changer. And then all day long, the hunch had remained deep down in his bones, and he hadn’t been able to shake the sensation. While still trying to make sense of it, all the while deciding if he should push the line further, seeing as he’d already stepped over the boundaries of their relationship, her text message had flashed up on his phone …
Connor, everything’s fine, and there’s nothing to worry about, but I need to see you ASAP.
So he’d dropped everything he was doing to get to her as quickly as he could. But he’d been out the back paddocks, fixing a broken water line, so it was almost an hour since he’d responded with See you at the homestead as soon as I can. Xx
In the past fifteen minutes, the sky had heaved with rolling black clouds and thunder had boomed. Just as he’d gotten into his LandCruiser a luminous snap of lightning had shot across the sky, and the heavens had opened up in wild monsoonal fashion. His windscreen wipers now swished back and forth on top speed, sweeping the pounding rain from his view. The droplets were heavy in his headlights, warning him to be wary, so he did his best not to drive like a bat out of hell to get to her. But by Christ he was hankering to see her, so he could find out if she was as desperate as he was to lay everything on the table.
Or was she about to tell him something he didn’t want to hear?
God knew, he was about to do that to her.
Her text message spun like a broken record in his head. And drove him nuts. How cryptic could she be? If only everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine. Not in the slightest. Far from it. He wasn’t about to let her leave Gum Tree Gully without coming clean and telling her way more than how he was madly in love with her. He wanted to know whether, in a perfect world, she could bring herself to forgive him for playing a hand in her parents’ accident, as well as accepting they would never be able to have children together, if she could leave her life behind in London and stay here, with him, so they could make the life together like they should have all those years ago.
