Page 49 of Wild Horses

Astrid pulled into the driveway of her cottage with Christy and Tyler on board.

The sun had dipped behind the Bunya Mountains, leaving a watercolour wash of twilight across the sky.

The air hummed with a chorus of crickets and tinkling windchimes as dusk draped itself around the cottage like a soft shawl.

‘Well, this is a day to remember,’ Astrid said, heading to the kitchen with two bottles of expensive champagne, courtesy of Tyler. ‘Who knew I’d be hosting a hero’s dinner tonight?’

Christy laughed, the sound feeling almost foreign after the intensity of the past few hours. ‘Hero’s dinner, huh?’ she asked, knowing Astrid was notoriously averse to cooking. ‘What’s on the menu?’

Astrid shot her a playful glance. ‘Don’t get too excited. It will be as basic as it gets.’ She poured them each a glass of champagne, humming happily as the bubbles fizzed into their flutes. ‘How are the walking wounded?’ she asked.

‘Nothing broken.’ Tyler tapped his injured arm. ‘As they say in the movies, it’s just a flesh wound. I did almost put Callan’s eye out with a pitchfork. Don’t suppose that helped his aim.’ He sank onto the patchwork couch with a tired sigh and patted the seat beside him.

Christy sat down. ‘I still can’t believe it all happened.’ She put her hand on Tyler’s knee. ‘That man really tried to kill you.’

‘And you saved my life.’ His eyes locked on to hers with a mix of gratitude and something deeper. ‘Christy, the one-woman SWAT team.’

A delightful flush spread through her. ‘I did what I had to – for you and for Leo.’ How good it felt to be able to say those words and know they were true.

‘Speaking of Leo,’ said Astrid. ‘By all accounts that boy showed incredible bravery today. Charging at an armed attacker? That took real guts.’

Tyler’s expression showed a mixture of sadness and pride. ‘I don’t deserve his love or his bravery. Not after everything I’ve put him through.’

‘I imagine Leo feels he should be the judge of that.’ Astrid took a swig of champagne and put The Incredible String Band on softly in the background. ‘Well, better get a wriggle on with our dinner.’

‘I should help,’ Christy whispered to Tyler after a few minutes. He began to rise but she waved him back down. ‘You’re not the chef tonight.’

Christy went into the kitchen, knowing Astrid despised cooking. The sight before her confirmed it – Astrid was juggling a frying pan with a few sausages while trying to open a bag of potato chips with her teeth.

‘Need a hand?’ She suppressed a laugh.

Astrid dropped the chip packet onto the counter with a dramatic sigh. ‘Oh, darling, I can’t tell you how much I hate this.’ She waved the spatula like a wand, as if it might somehow conjure up a three-course meal. ‘But for my friends, I’ll endure.’

Tyler appeared at the doorway, looking perplexed. ‘What’s on the menu tonight, Chef?’

Astrid rolled her eyes. ‘Sausages, bread, salad and the finest bagged potato chips money can buy.’

Christy bit back a giggle. ‘Go back to the lounge room, Tyler. You shouldn’t see this.’

Christy emerged from the kitchen half an hour later carrying a platter of slightly charred sausages.

Astrid followed with a sliced loaf of white supermarket bread.

She set the loaf down with a flourish on the table, which was set with paper plates.

A simple salad sat in a bowl in the centre, alongside butter, a bottle of store-bought Italian dressing and another of Heinz tomato sauce.

‘Tada! Dinner is served. Champagne sausage sizzle, anyone?’

‘Looks perfect,’ Tyler said, as Astrid wrapped up a sausage for him. ‘Can’t go wrong with snags and bread.’

Astrid huffed, apparently unsure whether he was taking the mickey. She plopped down into a chair. ‘Well, don’t get used to it. This is a once-in-a-blue-moon event.’

They ate with gusto, despite the simple fare.

‘I would have loved to see Leo,’ said Astrid. ‘Why didn’t you bring him, Tyler?’

Tyler grinned, his eyes bright with mischief. ‘Didn’t want to poison the poor kid.’

Astrid gasped dramatically, feigning offence.

‘How dare you, sir! My culinary skills are unmatched – in their ability to clear a room.’ She laughed heartily at her own joke, silver hair shimmering in the lamp light.

Then she topped up their drinks. ‘I propose a toast. To heroics and to surviving my cooking!’

They clinked glasses. The bubbles tickled Christy’s nose and she felt the horror of the day begin to lift, replaced by something delightfully light and buoyant.

Tyler leaned back in his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips. ‘No, seriously. Leo went back to the music festival with Clare. He was eager to share today’s adventures with Tiff.’

Christy imagined Leo recounting his brave exploits to an enraptured audience.

‘Ah, young love,’ mused Astrid, raising her glass again and winking at Christy.

The conversation flowed easily. The simple food contrasted beautifully with the luxury of the champagne. It was a perfect metaphor for their day – a blend of the ordinary and extraordinary, the mundane and the daring.

As the evening wore on, Christy found herself glancing at Tyler more often, her feelings for him becoming harder to ignore. ‘So, how do you feel about missing the Top Chef competition, Tyler?’

He wiped his hands on a paper napkin. ‘It was fate. Leo doesn’t want to move to France, so I wouldn’t have taken up the position as head chef at Le Ciel de Paris even if I had won.’

Astrid clapped her hands, eyes sparkling with approval, the silver bangles on her wrist jingling together melodically. ‘Bravo, Tyler! Prioritising your son over some fancy title? That’s what being a good father is all about.’

Christy studied Tyler’s face, seeing the mix of pride and regret. The dream of being a top chef in Paris would have been hard to let go. Her heart burst with love for this complicated man, who could be so bold and so vulnerable at the same time.

‘Life is full of surprises,’ she mused, reaching for his hand. ‘Sometimes our dreams change. It doesn’t mean they’re any less worthwhile.’

Astrid swirled her glass thoughtfully. ‘And what about you, my girl? How are you feeling about moving back to Sydney?’

She felt Tyler stiffen beside her.

‘To be honest, I’d rather stay here.’

‘Then why don’t you?’ asked Astrid. ‘The kids would love you to stay – and so would I.’

‘If only it was that simple.’ Christy drained her glass and poured herself another one.

Astrid cocked her head to one side. ‘Why isn’t it?’

‘I can’t afford to stay in Currawong Creek – not now I’m making monthly payments on the hall.’

Astrid looked puzzled. ‘Surely the bank wouldn’t have let you overextend yourself.’

The alcohol buzzed through her veins, loosening her tongue and making her reckless.

What was it her mother always said? A trouble shared is a trouble halved?

Christy looked at Astrid, then at Tyler.

‘I ... I didn’t borrow from the bank. They turned down my mortgage application.

So I took out a personal loan to buy the hall.

’ Her words tumbled out faster than she intended.

‘A high-interest loan, and I’m in over my head. ’

Astrid’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?

Curse those bloodsuckers! You must look at refinancing as soon as possible.

But in the meantime I can help with the repayments,’ said Astrid.

‘And the town will get on board. I don’t think you realise how enthusiastic people are about our little drama society.

It’s been just the boost Merriang needed.

Do you know the Men’s Shed is forming a group dedicated to creating sets for our shows?

And they’re going to have a look at the hall’s roof as well. ’

Christy’s cheeks flushed a shade deeper than the evening’s champagne indulgence warranted. ‘Thanks, but it may not be enough.’

Astrid shot her a searching look. ‘How much exactly are your repayments?’

Now that Christy had confessed her foolishness, she wished she hadn’t. ‘Don’t worry, I can manage. But I will look into refinancing.’ She started to clear the table.

Astrid studied her for a while with keen eyes. Christy felt like a bug under the microscope.

‘Suit yourself then,’ Astrid said at last. She quaffed the last of her wine and stood up, a little unsteady on her feet.

‘I think it’s safe to say I won’t be driving Christy home to Currawong Creek tonight.

’ She burped softly. ‘So, my darlings,’ she began, her voice low and sultry, ‘we have yet to address the issue of sleeping arrangements. There’s one bed in the spare room and the couch is quite comfy. ’

Christy exchanged a glance with Tyler that Astrid didn’t miss.

He grinned and asked, ‘Well, Astrid, how do you suggest we decide?’

‘A most excellent question.’ Astrid tapped a finger on her chin. ‘I propose ... a coin toss! Let me fetch my purse.’

Christy giggled. ‘I think we can figure it out for ourselves.’

‘Oh, very well then.’ Astrid bowed and gave a dramatic flourish. ‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ With a playful wink Astrid turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving the magic of Romeo and Juliet lingering in the air.

Tyler took the empty glasses into the kitchen, his handsome profile illuminated by the soft kitchen light. Then he turned to face her, standing so close she could feel the warmth of his body. Without a word, he reached out, his hand gently cupping her chin.

His fingers sent an electric shiver down her spine. She leaned in to his touch and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, his lips found hers in a brief teasing kiss. Christy felt a surge of heat as her body responded, her hands accidentally sliding up to his sore shoulder.

He winced and shrugged off his sling.

‘Should you be doing—?’

‘Shh ...’

Tyler’s arms wrapped around her, their bodies moulding together as if they were made to fit. Time seemed to stretch and bend. They kissed again and the world slowly came back into focus. ‘Let’s go to bed,’ Tyler said in a hoarse whisper.

They retreated to the spare room. Christy closed the door behind them, breathing fast. A crescent moon showed dimly through the window. Tyler tried to switch on the bedside lamp, but the globe must have blown.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ murmured Christy.

‘Yes, it does.’ Tyler groped on the bookshelf for a candle and matches. ‘I want to see you.’

Soon flickering candlelight cast shadows on his face, highlighting the intensity in his emerald eyes.

He laid her gently down as the air between them crackled with desire.

Each nerve ending was tuned to Tyler’s touch.

He undressed her slowly, then she helped him out of his own clothes, marvelling at his muscled torso.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ Tyler murmured, stroking her breast. ‘Are you sure about this?’ His eyes searched hers for any hint of hesitation.

Couldn’t he tell? ‘I’m sure,’ she urged, her pulse quickening, anticipation thrumming through her skin. When he touched her it felt like a key turning in a lock – a release of something held tight for too long.

‘We’ll take it slow,’ Tyler whispered.

‘Slow works for me.’

Feather-light fingers traced the contours of her face, down the line of her neck, and across her collarbone. She mirrored his actions, exploring the rugged expanse of his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heart against her palm.

Still, he hesitated. Christy’s hand traced the bandage on his shoulder. ‘We’ll have to be careful,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Guess we’ll have to get creative then.’

They moved with cautious urgency – a delicate dance of exploration and restraint. Tyler’s touch was gentle, his hands skimming over her skin with exquisite tenderness. Then, when it seemed she might explode with desire, Tyler whispered in her ear. ‘Now?’

‘Now.’

In a fluid motion Tyler positioned himself above her, every movement measured, his concern for her comfort etched in the furrow of his brow. When he finally entered her, she cried out with pleasure.

And then they were moving together, a symphony of soft breaths and muted moans, each note resonating with the significance of this first time.

Even with the barriers of bandages and bruises, they found a rhythm that was theirs alone – gentle, unhurried and profound.

Afterwards Christy rested her head on Tyler’s chest and fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.