Page 5

A shockingly bright yellow Kombi van putted down the lumpy dirt driveway, stirring up a lazy plume of red dust, as country rock music blared from its open windows as if a party were happening inside.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Izzy dropped the cloth she was using into the bucket. She’d been cleaning the kitchen, which was fairly easy, as the cupboards and pantry were empty. Clearly showing how little time Craig spent in this house. ‘Who is that?’

‘You’ll see…’ Craig leaned against the verandah’s pole to avoid using his crutches. Even unwell, his bright blue eyes highlighted his deep tan, that went with that charming grin. A grin that once accompanied heavy eyes that used to have the ability to touch her without the use of his hands.

She swallowed hard. She just wished he’d stop grinning. Or watching her. Or scowling at her.

‘Is she here?’ The visitor yelled as she jumped out of the Kombi van, slamming the driver’s door behind her. From where Izzy was, she couldn’t see the woman’s face.

‘Who? You know you look like a wild child riding that rocket donkey you call a van.’ Craig’s voice was full of humour—for once.

‘Oh, please, when you’re the one who’s still suffering from his last ride on the rough stock, playing the part of a middle-aged hobbling goblin.’ The woman laughed.

Of course, Craig, the flirt, grinned back. ‘How is my favourite redhead?’ He copped a hug from the woman. Even as he winced at the pain, Craig never let on that he was hurting—yet Izzy saw through his guise.

‘Brilliant, as always.’ The redhead turned around to face Izzy. ‘And there she is, the star of this outback show.’

‘Bree.’ Instantly recognising her, Izzy rushed to greet her old friend.

‘Busy Izzy.’ Bree bundled her up in a big bear hug, where they laughed, squeezing each other as long-lost friends. ‘It’s so good to see you again, in the flesh.’ Bree winked, with that same bright smile, shiny green eyes, and red hair in a thick plait she tossed over her shoulder like some tree python. Even though Izzy hadn’t seen Bree since she moved to Sydney, they had kept in touch—especially when Bree needed an ironclad caveat to protect her grandfather’s interests. She’d turned to Izzy for help.

‘What brings you here?’

‘I come bearing goodies like it’s an orphan’s Christmas. You stay there, Craig, us girls don’t need you getting in the way. Come on.’ Bree hooked her arm through Izzy’s and led her back to the van. ‘What have you been doing? Cleaning?’

‘I’ve started cleaning up the place to sell it.’ Even if it was a big job, but with little furniture to get in the way, she’d knock it over in no time.

‘Something needs to happen to this place. Remind me, what did you and Craig name it? There’s no sign out front.’

‘Dustfire Holdings.’ They’d renamed it Dustfire when they became the official owners. Fifteen hundred acres of pristine farming land, a three-bedroom house with an office, sheds, stables, drafting yards, and various sized paddocks. It was still a pretty place, even if it seemed tired, neglected and unloved.

‘It’s a good name. You need a sign—which means you’re in luck, as I happen to know this beautiful blacksmith who’ll make you one.’ Bree grinned widely, again flicking her thick plait over her shoulder. ‘It’ll make a good house-warming gift.’

‘We’re cleaning the place up to sell.’

Bree peered back at the house, then over to the assorted sheds. ‘If I wasn’t sweet-talked into staying on at Elsie Creek Station, I would’ve made an offer on this place myself. It’s got some great stockyards and plenty of paddock space for my stockhorses, and a shed big enough to become my workshop. But I’m where fate wants me to be.’

‘I’m so sorry about Charlie. He was an amazing stockman and a total charmer.’

‘Thank you.’ Bree gave Izzy’s arm a tender squeeze. ‘My grandfather had a heart condition and had refused surgery, so it was his time. Believe me, Charlie lived every day like his last.’ She frowned back at the house. ‘I’m just sorry for not reading the signs.’

‘What signs?’ Izzy followed Bree’s line of sight to realise she was talking about Craig who was waiting for them on the verandah.

‘Did you know Craig rode that bull for Charlie?’

‘Oh, wait…’ Craig had mentioned it. ‘Now I get it.’ Kicking herself for not seeing it sooner. ‘Craig’s in mourning.’

Bree nodded. ‘I never realised how much Charlie’s passing affected Craig until he got on that bull.’

‘I know Craig loved Charlie. He was like a father to Craig.’

‘But I do know Charlie would be as thrilled as I am that you’re back home.’ Bree gave Izzy’s arm another tender squeeze. ‘So, I brought out a bush bassinet for the boy.’

‘A what?’

‘Camp bed, as per Craig’s request. But I also brought food and other goodies.’ Boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables filled the front seat, but when Bree slid open the van’s side door, boxes of cooking utensils, pot plants, and food jars crammed the back.

‘How did you know?’ It truly felt like an orphan’s Christmas with enough goodies to fill an empty farmhouse kitchen.

‘I’ve been here a few times with Charlie. Trust me, you’ll need it if you’re staying.’

‘I’ll pay you for this.’

‘No, you won’t.’ Bree dropped a large box of cooking utensils into Izzy’s arms. ‘You can give it back or pass it on to someone else when you’re done. I’m just glad you’re back.’

‘I’m just—’

‘Shh.’ Bree cut her off. ‘For the moment, let’s pretend you’re back. Craig needs you, even though he won’t admit it.’

‘Only until Craig has recovered.’

Bree plonked a hand on one hip. ‘Listen up, Einstein, Craig never recovered.’

‘What?’ Izzy scuffled to a standstill in the dust as she realised what Bree meant. Had leaving Craig hurt him that much? How was that possible? When Craig was the one who’d pushed her out the door.

‘I’ve even brought some seedlings to start that veggie garden you always wanted.’ With arms full, Bree headed to the house.

But this situation was only temporary until Izzy could fix her little life-and-death issue, or until she got the call telling her it was safe to go home, but she could hardly tell Bree that.

In the meantime, she needed to sell the house in order to get her name off the deed, to protect Craig. No one was going to buy a run-down farmhouse at top dollar, even if it was the perfect hideout for her until her situation resolved itself.

‘I didn’t order all this stuff.’ Craig frowned at the boxes being carried inside. ‘I just wanted to borrow a camp bed.’

‘Oh, please, sugarplum, I had plenty to share, and you both need this.’ Bree dumped the box on the kitchen bench, then glanced at Craig on his crutches. ‘You should get off that leg.’

‘Only if you brought me something to eat. My uninvited houseguest emptied my fridge already.’ Craig poked around the boxes on the bench, throwing her a smirk. ‘I don’t know if Izzy even knows how to cook anymore. Being a big-city lawyer, you probably live on takeout.’

‘I can cook. I’m just rusty, that’s all.’ There wasn’t much call for her to cook when she lived on a never-ending cycle of business lunches and dinners. ‘It’s been a long time since I had time to stand at a stove.’ Back in the day, they used to spend hours cooking together, side by side, trading insults and compliments over who made the better steaks or who botched the bread. But that was then. Now, all he had was a fridge full of nothing and a man she barely recognised.

‘I knew there was a reason for packing all my homegrown herbs. And I’ve got you a stack of preserved fruit and vegetables—from my garden, of course—to stock up your pantry.’ From one of the boxes, Bree held up a jar of preserved food. ‘All I ask is that you bring back the empty jars.’

‘Izzy can do that.’ Craig cracked open a jar of pickled cucumbers. The crunch was loud, with the pickled spices smelling refreshingly divine. ‘This is so good.’ Craig rolled his eyes, before pinching another one from the mason jar. ‘Now all I need is a beer.’

‘I don’t think there’s any in the house.’ Izzy shrugged.

‘What? A bloke in his own house has no beer? It’s sad is what it is.’ Even if he was trying to hide his smile, it was the first time she’d seen that smile since she’d been back.

‘Take a load off, cowboy, while Izzy and I unload the car.’ Bree took over. It’s what Bree had always done, from the moment Izzy had first met her, back when Izzy had started dating Craig.

Hanging out in the kitchen with Bree felt so familiar, as if they’d never been apart. They cooked dinner together while the conversation flowed freely, and music played in the background. Perched on his stool, Craig supervised from the other side of the kitchen counter, pinching bits of food, and adding to the conversation. It was just like old times that Izzy was truly tripling up on the dopamine today.

Long after sunset, with the dishes done and a bottle of red wine on the dining table, where tapered dinner candles flickered, Bree asked, ‘What are you going to do with yourself now, Craig?’

‘What do you mean?’ His sparkling blue eyes captured the candlelight as he focused on turning his wineglass around by the stem.

‘I’ve heard how extensive your injuries are. You can’t do rodeo anymore,’ said Bree.

‘Behave,’ scoffed Craig, with that frown returning.

‘You can’t risk it.’ Izzy nodded in agreement.

‘What I do is none of your business.’ He scowled at Izzy.

‘I’m agreeing with Izzy.’

‘It didn’t take long for you two women to gang up on me again. You’re meant to be my friend, Bree.’

‘And you know I love you like a brother.’ Seated opposite Craig, Bree leaned her forearms on the table. ‘If Charlie was around, he’d tell you it’s time to stop doing rodeo, too. Do I need to remind you of Charlie’s last rodeo ride?’

‘No.’ Craig dropped his head, suddenly all surly.

‘Can you remind me?’ Izzy asked quietly.

‘My grandfather got gored by a bull during a rodeo. You were lucky.’ Bree pointed her wineglass at Craig. ‘You never got stabbed seriously.’

‘I have stitches.’ He lifted his shirt, to show the bandages, only to wince at the effort it took to do so.

‘And my darling grandfather got a punctured lung, broken ribs, legs, hips, collar bone—’

‘Okay, okay. Spare me the details.’ Craig scowled behind his wineglass.

‘You saw the scars. They covered Charlie’s chest. He couldn’t climb onto the saddle to ride for a year.’

‘I know. I remember. But I’m still not retiring from rodeoing.’

‘Well, you’re an idiot. What do I have to do to slap some sense into you?’

Izzy giggled at Bree’s straightforwardness. ‘I missed you, Bree.’

‘I don’t,’ Craig grumbled. ‘You can go home now. Don’t you have a new husband to annoy?’

‘I do. You know, I never thought I’d say those words again…’ Bree even gave a dreamy smile behind her wine glass.

‘Oh, hey, congratulations on the nuptials.’ Izzy raised her glass at Bree. ‘I look forward to meeting this Ryder Riggs.’ Who’d have to be something special to capture Bree’s attention.

Bree positively glowed, with her rosy-cheeked smile so bright. ‘Thank you. But I’d better warn you—when you do meet him, Ryder will want to hire you, Einstein.’ She turned then to Craig. ‘But back to you, cowboy. You do realise that with the damage to your leg, you won’t be riding bareback on bulls or horses for a while. If ever.’

‘I will recover, and I will be fine.’

Craig didn’t seem fine to Izzy. Where was that cheeky, handsome stockman with blond curls, sparkly blue eyes, and easygoing smile? Sure, he seemed happy when chatting with the locals, but it was just a mask to hide his grumpiness, now well and truly on show.

‘You won’t be going on any musters for a while, either,’ said Bree. ‘Which kind of sucks, because the mustering season has just started. I was going to talk the Riggs brothers into letting you run one of the mustering teams.’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Not for a long time. And you know it.’ Bree patted his hand in a sisterly manner. ‘So, what are you going to do for work?’

Craig shrugged.

‘You were a good stock inspector,’ said Izzy. ‘You can always go back to the stockyards.’

‘I quit that job for a reason. I hated doing all that paperwork and dealing with the office politics in that place, it sucked.’

‘Well, I might have a job for you.’ Bree smiled as she took a sip of her wine.

‘Not when you’re smiling like that, you don’t.’ Craig shifted in his seat, wincing at his ribs.

‘What’s wrong with my smile?’

‘It’s trouble.’ Then he pointed at Izzy. ‘You have that same smile, too. When you finally decide to smile—which is rare.’

‘Don’t point at me like that.’ Izzy slapped away his finger. ‘Besides, you haven’t given me any reason to smile.’

‘Feel free to leave. Door is there.’

‘No, Izzy can stay, and I’ll leave.’ Bree skipped up from the table and kissed his cheek. ‘You’re a cranky prick when you’re sick, just like Charlie.’ She ruffled his blond hair like a big sister. ‘Get better soon, Craig. Call me if you need me and I might bring over some homemade grog and we can do a long liquid lunch.’

‘Hey, Bree.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Anytime. You’ve done it for me countless times. But I’m going to make you that sign now. Dustfire, right?’

‘You don’t need to. Not if Izzy has her way in selling the place.’ He narrowed his eyes at Izzy.

‘It’ll be a good one for the front gate.’ Bree waved while walking out of the house.

Izzy felt a pang of guilt for planning to sell up, as she followed Bree to the bright yellow Kombi van that seemed to glow under the stars. ‘Thank you for coming, Bree. And for all that food. But you can hold off on the sign.’

‘All good. I’m glad to share.’ Bree wound down the driver’s window, then paused. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Einstein.’ Again, Bree hugged Izzy tightly. ‘Even though that lonesome cowboy won’t admit it, Craig is glad too.’

‘It’s not permanent.’ Again, there was the familiarity of being hugged by a friend, she’d missed that. ‘What is this job you mentioned for Craig?’ He’d need it.

‘Well, I know someone who could use Craig’s skills. I’ll have to talk to them first. But I’ll be back with Dustfire’s sign, and we can have a cocktail party at the front gate while watching Craig put it up. Later.’ With a rev, and a toot of the horn, the Kombi van’s bright spotlight beams highlighted the landscape, with loud music blaring from its speakers.

Izzy stood there long after the Kombi’s lights disappeared and the dust settled on their long driveway, leaving a crisp, earthy aroma in the air. Then, she caught the familiar scent of warm honey and spice drifting from the iconic weeping paperbark. It had been so long since she’d breathed it in.

Proudly lining both sides of Dustfire’s driveway, the row of weeping paperbark trees created an impressive entrance to the property. Even in need of a trim, they were still spectacular, with their fluffy, creamy clusters of bottlebrush flowers releasing a soft, sweet fragrance. During the day, their scent peaked—a spiced honey blend that lured native bees and birds to gorge on their nectar. Izzy loved that tree, common in the Northern Territory but rarely seen elsewhere in southern Australia.

Again, she took a deep breath of fresh clean air, fully filling her lungs. There was no bitter taste in it. No smog. No traffic noises. While the light from the kitchen was the only light in the area.

She craned her neck to face the stars, where galaxies hid behind galaxies, their depth never ending, along with their astonishing patterns and falling star trails. Her heart bloomed. Oh, how she’d missed those stars.

‘What are you doing?’ Craig’s powerful figure was highlighted by the kitchen light as he leaned against the doorframe.

‘I forgot how clear the night sky was, and the smell of the night air.’ Again, she inhaled, this time detecting the faint aroma of eucalyptus and some heavenly native jasmine. Nothing and nowhere smelled like the outback at night, where it slept beneath an enormous ceiling of stars.

The noise of something scraping along the ground brought her out of her stargazing reverie. ‘What are you doing?’

‘This.’ Craig clumsily dragged two kitchen chairs through the dirt, using the chair’s backs like crutches. Over his shoulder he carried a shopping bag, its contents clinked like glass. ‘Sit.’

‘But you’re meant to be resting.’

‘I am.’ He flopped heavily into his chair, taking a few slow breaths before pouring the last of the red wine into two glasses. ‘I think we’ve done enough arguing today. Let’s just take a moment.’

‘I have work—’

‘No, you don’t.’ Capturing her wrist, he dragged her back to sit down beside him, then handed her a wineglass. ‘Now, say nothing until we both finish our glasses of wine. No small talk. No conversation. Let’s make a truce for peace at least until sunrise.’ He clinked his glass against hers.

‘To peace.’ Tired of fighting with him, too, she sat in silence.

She didn’t know how long they sat there enjoying the blissful sounds of silence, but it was long after she’d finished her glass of wine while staring up at the sea of stars. For the first time in a very long time, her mind finally slowed down, allowing her to relax.

She only ever did that with Craig.