Outback Dreams (33 page)

Unsure whether or not he'd be welcome, Monty arrived early at the Memorial Hall the next morning. As he sat on the wall outside, tapping his boots against the bricks, he prayed that somehow he and Faith could move on from this.

He might not be able to offer her what she wanted—needed— but he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. At the sound of the four-wheel drive Ryan had driven home for her last night, Monty looked up. If she'd seen him, she pretended otherwise. Her door slammed and her boots thumped the pavement towards him. She sounded like a woman on a mission, but she looked like hell. She was still beautiful, and the sight of her curves made muscles jump up and down all over his body, but black bags hung under her eyes and the spring was absent from her step.

And it was all his fault.

He slid off the wall. ‘Morning, Faith.' Not Forrester—she probably wouldn't appreciate nicknames right now.

‘Glad you didn't say “good”.' She barely looked at him as she headed for the hall, keys jangling in her grip.

He opened his mouth but the words caught in his throat. He'd spent half the night tossing and turning on his lumpy couch, rehearsing what to say, but nothing would sound right.

As if reading his thoughts, she snapped, ‘Don't try to talk to me about yesterday. I can't deal with that today on top of everything else.'

‘Okay. Sure.' He clutched at a smidgen of hope that maybe she'd be ready to talk about it someday.

They weren't alone for long, and Faith looked visibly relieved when Ruby, Simone and Adam showed up. She threw herself into work—shifting tables she'd decided overnight were in the wrong place.

‘Let me get the end of that,' Monty said, grabbing the opposite end of one table.

‘Leave it. I'm fine,' she hissed. And she persisted in dragging the damn thing halfway across the hall on her own.

The caterers arrived and took over the kitchen. The stall owners came in dribs and drabs to set out their produce, and his mum arrived with her friends to flash up their little new-age tents. He shadowed Faith, and when she asked what the hell he was doing, he gestured towards Jenni. Faith nodded, but didn't look at all happy about the pretence.

Two representatives from Dogs for Autism stopped by to introduce themselves on their way to check in at the hotel. They thanked Faith for choosing their organisation to support. She gushed over the two gorgeous labradors they'd brought along, and he stood awkwardly talking to one of the ladies about Will. Like almost every other conversation he'd had about autism in the past, he screened his words.

Faith's glare bored into him. No doubt she thought him a liar, or worse, a hypocrite, but what she didn't understand was that he
did
support this cause. He understood more than most what it was to live with someone who had autism. He'd watched his brother struggle through school and life and he was proud of what Will had achieved.

He just didn't know if he could go through it all again.

Faith had quite forgotten about the complication of Katarina Lamberusco-Cunningham until she felt Monty take her hand. Traitorous heat flooded her body at his touch, and in the name of self-defence she tried to pull away. He held on tight and nodded towards the door as he whispered, ‘I think your friend has arrived.'

As if this day could get any worse.

Faith promptly forgot her dastardly hormones and looked up to see Kat standing in the doorway. Her perfectly straight sheath of platinum blonde hair fell almost down to her waist, and the pair of bug-like designer sunglasses perched on her head turned slowly from side to side as she surveyed the hall. Faith swallowed, suddenly wondering if the paw print décor wasn't stylish enough for an alumnae-associated event.

Monty stepped forward, still gripping her hand, as he took control of the situation. ‘Good afternoon, Katarina. I'm Daniel Montgomery, Faith's boyfriend.'

Faith's heart leapt back up to caress her throat as she watched Kat's eyes take in every inch of Monty's body. Or maybe it was the fact she knew his words were a mere façade. From the flush in the other woman's cheeks and the excessive fluttering of eyelashes as she offered her hand, it was clear Monty had scored an A+ in Kat's assessment.

She found her voice. ‘Hi, Kat. Thanks so much for coming. Is your husband outside?' Although Monty was no longer hers, she felt the need to remind the other woman of her married status.

Kat blinked and shook her head slightly as if trying to work out who Faith meant. ‘Oh, no.' She paused a moment, then sighed. ‘Our babysitter cancelled and both sets of grandparents are out of the country, so Paul had to stay home with the children. I'm a single woman tonight.' She seemed excited by this prospect and her gaze once again lingered on Monty.

Faith yanked his hand, drawing him right into her side in spite of herself. ‘That's such a pity, but I'm sure Adam will be happy to drive you in tonight. I wouldn't want you out late on unfamiliar country roads on your own.'

‘Adam?' Kat turned up her nose as if she'd smelled something shocking. ‘Who's he?'

‘Hi there.' Adam stepped forward and offered his hand. ‘The cottage you'll be staying in tonight is on my farm. I can take you there now if you'd like.'

Kat licked her lips as her smile reappeared. Apparently Adam didn't score too badly either. ‘Thank you, that would be lovely. A quick nap would work wonders before this evening. I feel like I've driven halfway across the country.'

With barely a backward glance, Kat linked her arm through Adam's and turned towards the exit. He looked back over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. Faith knew her friend could more than handle any advances Kat threw his way, but she made a mental note to thank him later. The thought of having to babysit Kat as well as deal with everything else on her agenda was too much.

‘That went well, I think.' Monty nodded towards the door with a forced grin.

Faith let out a breath of relief and stole back her hand. Kat appeared to have bought their charade, but Faith found she no longer cared about the other woman's opinions.

‘She's not very warm, is she?' Ruby commented.

Simone snorted. ‘Warm? She's like the ice-queen. I swear the temperature dropped twenty degrees when she walked in. Makes me even more determined to win this contest for you.'

‘Thanks.' Faith summoned a smile, but it was an effort. Right now, she found it difficult to garner enthusiasm for anything. Especially winning a silly contest. Although winning had never been her ultimate goal, she needed to hold it together just a bit longer to ensure she raised good funds for her charity.

After a tense morning, Monty arrived home to find his dad watching the Dockers playing the Sydney Swans on TV. His mum and three of her hippy friends were relaxing on the back porch sipping homemade mocktails. Everything appeared so normal, yet nothing felt right. He offered a quick hello but made sure not to linger; the last thing he wanted to do was get involved in a discussion about numerology or crystals or something equally ridiculous.

His mum hadn't always been this New-Age in her approach to living. Both he and Will had been immunised as babies and made to wear shoes outside, and although she'd made sure her children ate healthily, Jenni had never obsessed over what went into their mouths.

Not until Will was diagnosed with autism. Then everything had changed.

Looking back, his parents—Jenni particularly—had been desperate to find something to blame for their seemingly bright baby turning into a toddler who couldn't communicate on the most basic of levels. Jenni strongly believed in the link between immunisation and autism. After Will's diagnosis, neither he nor Monty was ever immunised again, and she was very vocal about the risks when telling anyone who would listen.

Dad hadn't been convinced. He'd ensured Will received all the traditional and scientific treatments as well, but Jenni had focused on alternative therapies, especially aromatherapy and diet changes. She found herself fascinated by the benefits of oils, and through this met a number of unusual people—hence her subsequent involvement in tea leaf reading, numerology, astrology, palmistry… You name it, Jenni had tried it and made friends through it.

Although it was Will who'd indirectly led their mother into these activities, she now did them for her own sanity. She was constantly welcoming people into her house to partake in whatever her latest enthusiasm happened to be. Utterly selfless, she didn't believe in asking for money, but her clients always paid in kind. Some baked organic goodies, some brought plants for her garden and others would give her a massage in exchange for a reading. Sometimes her beliefs infuriated Monty, but he couldn't begrudge his mother something that made her happy.

Everyone needed that.

That thought led to Faith and Clancy's Breakaway. He'd never have imagined the two things that brought him happiness would be mutually exclusive. They shouldn't be. With only days until the farm was officially his, he'd finally allowed himself the occasional daydream about owning it. Although Faith featured heavily in his fantasies, he'd never once contemplated children.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned back against the counter. As he popped the top and took a pull, he closed his eyes and tried to picture a baby in the house, a little boy or girl with a mix of his and Faith's features. At the very thought, a sickening sweat flushed over his body and he took another desperate pull of his beer.

‘Have you got another one of those?'

Lost in a near panic attack, Monty hadn't heard his dad enter the room. He opened his eyes and nodded towards the fridge. ‘Sure, help yourself

Stuart grabbed a bottle of Carlton Dry and looked back to Monty as he cracked it open. ‘Cheers.'

‘Yeah, cheers.' Monty couldn't think of anything to celebrate, but he didn't need encouragement to drink more beer. ‘Where's Will?'

‘Down on the jetty with Pippa, doing whatever it is lovebirds do down there. Showing her the sights, I think.' Stuart took another sip and said, ‘Thought you'd be whiling away the arvo with Faith. Really good to hear you two finally got it together.'

Monty swallowed, his chest tightening as that panic feeling returned with a vengeance. He knew he should tell his dad the truth, but the truth hurt. ‘She's getting dressed with the girls,' he said instead. This fact still amazed him. Faith had always been one of the boys and shirked attending any girly get-togethers. It appeared their relationship wasn't the only thing that had changed. ‘I'm meeting them at the hall later,' he said.

Silenced lingered for a few moments before Stuart spoke again. ‘I'm also chuffed about this farm of yours, son. Sorry we haven't had a chance to talk much about it yet.'

Monty shrugged. ‘No worries.'

‘Tell me about it now.' Stuart gestured towards the lounge room.

Monty followed his dad to the couch. He rarely allowed himself think back to the days on their farm—it was too depressing to contemplate what could have been—but Stuart had been a very good farmer and Monty had often worked alongside him on weekends and after school. Stuart turned off the television and settled back into his seat while Monty told him all about the trip down south to Clancy's Breakaway—everything farm-related that is. No need to explain how that had been the place he and Faith crossed a line they could never uncross.

‘Perhaps I'm a fool, thinking I can take this on when I've only ever worked with sheep and crops,' he said glumly.

He'd tried to avoid worrying, reasoning that with his willpower, everything he'd read, and his experience in other areas of farming, he'd be okay. But he couldn't entirely quell the fear. If he failed at this … then what? Ever since they'd moved away, getting his own farm had been his dream.

He didn't have any others.

‘Don't be ridiculous. You can do anything you put your mind to, son.' His father turned slightly and patted Monty on the back. ‘I'm so proud of how hard you've worked to achieve this and I'm sorry we weren't able to assist with financing it. We never managed to save much after moving to Perth.'

‘It's okay,' Monty said. He'd never asked them for help, financial or otherwise. He was proud of what he'd achieved all on his own—and grateful for his father's approval. There was something special about knowing you'd got what you had through hard work, not simply because you were born to it.

For the next hour, Monty picked Stuart's brain in much the same way he'd picked Tim's via email these last few weeks. Although Stuart had only ever farmed sheep, he had some snippets of gold to share, and Monty was glad of the time alone with his dad. Times like this had been few and far between over the years.

So involved were they in this easy conversation, Monty started when Jenni wandered in and announced that her friends had returned to the hotel. ‘I'm off to find Will and Pippa,' she said. ‘We need to start getting ready.'

Monty looked at his watch, then leapt off the couch. ‘Geez, I'm supposed to be at the hall in half an hour.'

His mum laughed. ‘Lucky you don't take long to put yourself together then.'

She was right. Monty usually had showering and dressing down to a fine art, but tonight he was supposed to wear a suit, and that was a whole other story. He didn't want to let Faith down any more than he already had.

‘Omigosh, you look amazing!' Ruby all but squealed as she looked Faith up and down. Simone—dressed only in a lacy red bra and knickers, with a mascara wand halfway to her eyelashes—nodded enthusiastically in agreement. The three unlikely friends were getting ready at Ruby's house, indulging in a few drinks and what was supposed to be fun female chatter.

‘You think?' She gazed at her reflection in Ruby's full-length mirror, a sceptical expression on her face. Although she loved the feel of the soft silk gown—and its golden colour certainly complemented her newly blonde hair—the only A-word she felt was awkward. And annoyed. Angry was also a good one.