Outback Dreams (29 page)

As the credits rolled on the third episode of
The Chaser
they'd watched that day, Monty gathered Faith into his arms. ‘Do you want to know the bad news?'

Her heart thudded to a stop. ‘What?'

‘We've run out of chips and chocolate. We may have to get up and scavenge.'

She relaxed again, happy that the news wasn't serious. They may have eaten nothing but junk since the fruit that morning, but she felt nourished beyond belief. ‘I can't believe you're still hungry after all that.' She gestured to the empty wrappers littering the floor.

He patted his barely-there stomach. ‘What can I say? I like my food.'

‘Come on then.' She peeled back the doona and climbed out of bed. ‘I'll take a quick shower and then let's see what I can throw together from the disaster that's usually your kitchen cupboards.'

‘Did you mention shower?' Monty grinned. ‘In the interest of water conservation, I insist we share.'

She couldn't help but stare at the picture of perfection before her. Completely naked, Monty sat confidently in the middle of the bed as he waited for her answer. Her mind came alive with visions of them together in the confines of his tiny shower, hot water pouring over the two of them, soap suds, his muscles slippery beneath her touch. Her skin practically fried with anticipation. ‘Race you.'

‘I could get used to this,' Monty said, sipping a beer as he leaned against the kitchen bench and watched Faith work her magic.

She glanced up from chopping onions and smiled. ‘Which part?'

‘You cooking in my kitchen, sleeping in my bed, sharing my shower.'

Her cheeks glowed the most beautiful crimson, but typical Faith, she made a joke. ‘I don't think much sleeping occurred and I've always cooked for you anyway.'

‘Yeah, you have.'
And that's why this is so perfect,
he thought, taking another sip. They were so at ease in each other's company already. The only thing different about their relationship now was the sex. That phrase ‘best friends with benefits' came to mind and he silently thanked the man upstairs for showing him the light. ‘Will you stay the night? I promise not to get up to too much mischief but I don't want to say goodbye yet. I want you to be the first thing I see tomorrow morning, just so I know I didn't dream today.'

‘Who'd have thought you could be so romantic,' she quipped, and although she turned her attentions back to the cooking, he saw a smile threaten to burst off her face. He had to admit, his sentiments surprised him also.

‘Complaining?' he asked, before taking another sip of beer.

‘No.' She dropped the knife on the bench and closed the small distance between them. She fell into his arms and hugged him with the kind of strength you didn't expect from a woman. And it felt right. Her breasts squished against his chest, her head rested on his shoulder and her hair tickled the bare skin at the back of his neck. She smelled of his soap and his shampoo but they'd never smelled this good before.

Eventually she pulled back. ‘I wasn't planning on leaving anyway,' she said, with a wicked glint in her eyes.

He laughed, kissed her again and then let her concentrate on the omelette. As they sat down to eat, he told her what he'd always known, ‘No one cooks like you do, Forrester. Maybe that's why your dad doesn't want you working on the farm—you'll have less time to feed him.'

She didn't get the chance to answer because his mobile started ringing. ‘Ignore it,' he said, picking up his fork to take the first bite. He should have turned it off.

‘You know she'll only ring back.' Faith recognised the whale-song ringtone as his mum. She smiled as she looked at his phone, vibrating where he'd left it earlier on the kitchen table.

The phone went silent and then started moaning again seconds later. Right now he hated that whale music. Groaning, he dropped his fork and snatched up the phone.

‘Hi, Mum.'

‘Good evening, sweet pea,' she chirped. ‘Have you had a good day?'

He glanced at Faith across the table. ‘Yes, actually. Best day ever. You?'

‘So, it's true.' Mum all but cackled down the phone line.

‘Uh, what's true?'

‘That you and Faith are finally an item?'

He was gobsmacked. ‘How the hell did you find out?'

Faith laughed.

‘Bunyip Bay's a small town, honey, and I've still got quite a few friends up there. Just because we don't visit as much as we'd like, doesn't mean I don't keep in touch. I'd have called earlier, but the phone's been running hot.'

‘Bunch of busybodies,' he muttered, although he wasn't really angry. ‘Are you surprised?'

‘Surprised?' She laughed. ‘More like relieved that you finally got your act together. I can't wait to see you both next weekend.'

‘Next weekend?'

‘The Barking Ball, honey.' She laughed again. ‘Geez, you are totally lost in that bubble of love, aren't you?'

Yes,
he thought, but no way was he admitting that to his mother.

‘I was thinking we could have a barbecue at your place on Friday night and invite Pippa and her folks too.'

At the idea of a family get-together his chest tightened. ‘Who's Pippa?'

‘Will's girlfriend,' said his mother and Faith at the same time. Faith knew a lot more about his family than he did, but he couldn't really blame her; she was much better at keeping in touch.

‘I see. And Will's okay with coming to the ball?' He couldn't imagine his brother—who found it difficult to even make eye contact with strangers—embracing the idea of a social event as big as the Barking Ball. If it were for any other cause, he was sure Will wouldn't even contemplate it.

‘He's very excited. Pippa and her parents are coming up for the weekend. They're staying at the B&B. You'll like Pippa's parents; they're very down to earth—not at all like me.'

‘I like you just the way you are, Mum.'

‘You're too sweet, my darling. Anyway, I was thinking you could buy the meat in town and I could make the salads. I'll have to…'

‘Slow down a minute.' Monty was still coming to terms with the idea of Will having a girlfriend. He'd spent precious little time with his family the last few years—Christmas and Mother's Day lunches and the odd weekend in Perth—and the brother he'd grown up with had struggled to make polite conversation with most people, never mind develop a bond strong enough to form a relationship. ‘Does Pippa have autism too? Is this thing serious?'

‘Yes. Like Will, Pippa has high-functioning autism. They met in a behavioural therapy group, and their tutor is so pleased with the connection they've made. It's quite remarkable.' Jenni sniffed as if choking back tears. ‘I'm so proud of him. I get tingles every time I think about them together. I can't wait for you to meet her.'

‘Neither can I,' Monty said, now genuinely curious to see how his brother interacted with a woman. They went briefly through the arrangements. Will, Jenni and Stuart were staying the Friday and Saturday nights of the ball. He'd let his parents have his double bed and give his brother the spare room. He'd take the couch. ‘What's that fabric softener you wash Will's sheets with? Is there anything else I need to organise?'

‘Not really…' Jenni sounded as if she were thinking aloud. ‘We'll bring our own food to cope with Will's intolerance, and as for that other stuff, he's moved on from most of that. He can even cope with the vacuum cleaner now.'

Monty's mind flashed back to the times he'd had to take his brother out into the back yard to play so his mother could get the housework done. The vacuum cleaner wasn't the only thing that could set him off; the sound of the broom swishing along the kitchen tiles had also been known to send Will into a meltdown. Monty yawned; whether it was the exertion of the day catching up with him or whether he was simply exhausted by the thought of all the hard work Will had been over the years, he couldn't say.

He loved Will, he really did in his own strange way, but he'd been happy to distance himself when he left home. Every now and then he wondered what would happen when his folks eventually passed away. The thought of being Will's next of kin terrified him. He'd not shouldered that sort of responsibility in a very long time.

His mum laughed, thankfully not privy to his thoughts. ‘I can see I'm boring you when you'd much rather get back to Faith. Tell her I'll call during the week. I can't wait to show her the gown I've bought for the ball. I wavered when I saw the price, but then I thought, what the hell, I deserve it.'

‘You do, Mum, you really do.' Not once in his life had Monty heard his parents complain about their lot, but surely they must have felt some of the resentment he did.

‘Thanks, darling. Right, I'd better get dinner on for your father. I'll call you on Friday morning just before we leave.'

‘All right Mum, see you soon.'

Faith had finished her omelette while he'd been speaking to his mum. His had gone cold but still tasted unbelievably delicious. No one else could make eggs, cheese, ham and a few onions taste this good. He ate the whole thing in about five mouthfuls, and then made Faith lean against the bench with a beer while he did the washing up. Finally, he led her back into his bedroom, where he could forget about family barbecues and concentrate on the only thing that mattered.

Being with her.

The week leading up to the ball passed in the best blur of Faith's life. Everyone said her organisational skills were top-notch amazing. She decided that every CEO should have hot sex with their best friend on a regular basis. Maybe if politicians had better sex lives, the country wouldn't be in such disarray.

Having Monty at her side made even the most tedious jobs fun. She'd helped him pack up his house, leaving only the bare essentials for when his family stayed on the weekend. Much of their conversation centred on Clancy's Breakaway. Although not usually one to get excited by shopping or interior decorating, Faith couldn't wait to help Monty choose furniture for what he was now calling ‘our house.'

With Simone and Ruby busy at their day jobs, Monty helped with many of the last-minute tasks. He scrubbed the Memorial Hall from top to bottom, even volunteering to clean the toilets, which didn't look like they'd had a good going over in years. In that buzz of newfound love, they barely spared a moment's thought to anyone else.

Faith spent every night at Monty's place, lying content in his arms, but snuck off first thing every morning to milk Daisy. It was a good thing she'd had those weeks of heartbreak and anguish, because the food she'd cooked came in handy now that she had more to do with her time than bake. With the freezer stocked with dinners and cakes, Frank didn't seem to miss Faith's presence. She'd resolved to talk to him after the ball was over, when she would tell him he'd need to find a new housekeeper or take a quick course on using the vacuum cleaner, because she was moving out.

But sometimes life forced you to deal with things sooner than you planned. A few days before the ball, Faith was milking Daisy, chatting aimlessly to the cow, when a worrying smell drifted in from outside. Was it smoke? Her smile faltered for the first time in days. Pausing in her task, she took a deep breath.

Yep, definitely smoke.

Every pore of her skin trembled with fear. The last thing she needed was for their house to go up in a blaze. Ryan had been in Perth overnight, seeing about buying a new tractor, and her father was likely still in bed. Leaving Daisy on her lonesome, Faith leapt up, almost kicking over the bucket of milk in her haste. Outside, she paused to assess the direction of the fire, relaxing slightly when there was no sign of smoke near the house. But her heart leapt right back up into her throat when she looked the other way and saw wisps of grey coming from her father's workshop.

About two hundred metres away from the house, Frank's workshop was where he retreated whenever he needed time to be alone. He'd been spending more and more time there, and for one horrible moment Faith wondered if he was there now. She sprinted back into the shed to get the water truck, then hooned across the gravel towards the smoke.

As she swerved around the back of the workshop to where the flames appeared to be gaining strength, she realised she'd been hasty. She slowed the vehicle and watched from a short distance as her father tossed what looked like the travel brochures she'd given him into a small, controlled fire. Despite the noise she'd made in her rush to get here, he didn't appear to have noticed her arrival. He hurled another brochure into the smoke then turned slightly. She saw the exact moment he registered her presence. His face scrunched up into a scowl, then he turned away and tossed the remaining brochures into the flames, but not before she saw tears running down his cheeks. For the first time in a long while, her heart softened towards her father. Maybe Monty was right. Maybe something more than anger was at the root of his grouchy attitude.

And maybe, just maybe, it had nothing to do with her.

‘Oh, Dad.' She laid her head briefly on the steering wheel. Frank Forrester was of the generation that believed men didn't cry, that people should simply deal with their own troubled emotions and move on. Should she get out of the truck and ask him if he needed to talk? Approaching him in this state might only alienate him more.

She bit her lip, hesitating, but the thought of Monty and how they'd been avoiding their feelings for each other, living a lie until they confronted them, had her fingers on the door handle. As long as people ignored things like this, nothing could ever be fixed. Maybe this was fate's way of telling her she needed to make the first move. Maybe her father needed her help.

This thought gave Faith the courage she needed to climb out of the truck.