Outback Dreams (7 page)

She didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw something at him. Maybe the trifecta. ‘How many times have I asked if I could help with seeding or harvest, help muster sheep, fill water tanks? How many times?'

Ryan looked confused. ‘Dad pays you well enough, doesn't he?'

Faith felt a quick stab of guilt because yes, he did pay her reasonably well, but… ‘It's not about the money. I want to do more with my life than house duties, milking and collecting eggs.'

‘Right.' Ryan scratched his head like a confused puppy and then came to sit down beside her. ‘So what do you want to do?'

That's the million-dollar question, isn't it
?
.

For as long as Faith could remember, she'd assumed she'd work the land. It was why she'd ignored Cassie's plea that she do something like teaching or nursing or even PR at uni and gone to ag school instead. She'd loved being at Muresk—being one of the blokes, working hard, getting dirty, drinking hard too. She loved being outdoors, could even remember a time when her father used to let her ride in the tractor with him during harvest or seeding. She couldn't imagine any other life. Faith sat up slightly and hugged a pillow to her chest.

When Cassie was diagnosed with cancer the world had shifted. She'd been summoned home with only six months of her degree to go—not that she'd wanted to be anywhere else, but she'd had to grow up fast. By that time her mother was already a tiny shell of the woman she'd been. It was heartbreaking. She'd fought the cancer courageously at first, going through chemotherapy and every alternative therapy under the sun, but once the disease finally took hold, she stayed close to home. None of them had liked the idea of Cassie spending her last days in a hospice, so Faith had nursed her at Forrester's Rock till the end. She'd been there when her mother had taken her last breath, and somehow that had made the pain easier to deal with.

She'd always been grateful for those months together. They'd talked about everything under the sun, laughed and cried as they'd reminisced about the past and spoken about a future only Faith would have. Cassie had never once complained, and Faith tried to remember that now, when things in her life sucked. At least she had life.

But losing her mum wasn't the only thing that had changed. In many ways, she felt like she'd lost her father too. In the years since her mum had died, Frank Forrester had become less and less communicative. He had busied himself on the farm, as if trying to outrun the memory of losing his wife. Somehow, after the first few weeks, they'd never spoken about Cassie's death. In the beginning, Faith and Ryan had allowed him his silent misery because that was easier to put up with than talk about their mother, but now it was too late. He'd become distant and angry, someone she no longer felt she knew at all. Ryan was still a larrikin, but sadness had left its mark on him too.

‘Sis? Tell me.'

Lost in her thoughts, she'd almost forgotten he was there. She felt his hand on the small of her back. When was the last time he'd reached out to her?

She swallowed. ‘I want to be an equal on the farm, to work alongside you both. And if that's not possible, then I want you to honestly tell me and to let me go. I'll finish my degree and find a job that lets me use it. But I just can't go on like this. I'm more at home in a paddock than a kitchen.'

‘I don't know,' Ryan said with a small grin, ‘I think you do a pretty awesome job in both.'

She reached out and wrapped her fingers around one of Ryan's hands. She'd taught herself to cook when she'd needed to and had come to quite enjoy it, but baking was only fun when she didn't
have
to do it. ‘Thanks for listening. I didn't realise how trapped I was feeling until this weekend. But you have to know I'm serious about this. I can't just sit back and let you guys walk all over me anymore.'

Ryan winced. ‘Geez, have we been that bad?'

She nodded. ‘But it's as much my fault as yours. Like you said, I never made enough noise about being dissatisfied. I just let the resentment fester.' Although she'd whinged and complained to Monty, she'd never confronted her family until today.

‘Do you want to come out with me now? I could use a hand with the sheep. Ty is getting a bit old and crotchety for the job.'

‘You're offering me your dog's job?' She quirked an eyebrow at him.

‘Ah, damnit, I'm trying to offer an olive branch here.'

‘I know. Relax.' She wiped the back of her hand against her eyes, feeling so much better after chatting with him. ‘But I've got plenty to do this arvo and I don't know if dad's going to be quite so forgiving.'

‘He'll come round. I'll talk to him. Promise.' Ryan ruffled her hair and she whacked him one, but not hard because inwardly she was very grateful that Ryan had sought her out and sympathised.

‘Thanks bro. And because I'm feeling generous, I'll make dinner tonight. But you'll have to do the washing up.'

Ryan shook his head as if he couldn't believe she'd even suggest such a thing, but she caught the twinkle in his eyes and threw a pillow at his back as he heaved himself off the bed and fled out the door.

Monty left his meeting with the local bank manager feeling as if there was no obstacle he couldn't conquer. The moment he reached his ute, he dug his mobile phone out of his pocket and dialled Faith.

‘How'd you go?' she asked by way of a greeting.

He grinned. ‘Mr Spencer has to send my paperwork to head office, but he's confident I'll have pre-approval as early as Friday.'

Faith whooped down the line. When she stopped squealing and he brought the phone back to his ear, he said, ‘I've done it. Dreams really can come true if you work hard enough.'

‘So what's the next step?'

‘I've been talking to the real estate agent handling the Payne property. I'm going to call him in a moment and tell him it's looking good.'

‘Oh, I'm so excited for you. I won't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.'

He laughed. ‘I know that feeling. Think I'm going to take the arvo off and go fishing.'

‘You're what?' Shock radiated through her words.

‘I know. Crazy, hey?' He couldn't recall the last full day he'd had off work—even Sundays weren't a day of rest in his world. ‘Wanna come?'

‘Do I ever.' But then she sighed. ‘Better give it a miss today, though. I just had a run-in with Dad and I want to be around when he comes home to smooth things over. Raincheck?'

‘Sure.' He bit down on the disappointment. ‘Everything okay?'

‘Yeah, fine. Ryan and I had a really good chat actually, but I've kind of given Dad an ultimatum and I don't think he expected it. I told him things have got to change and that I want more real responsibility on the farm.'

‘Good for you. It's been a long time coming.'

‘Sorry about the fishing, but let's celebrate when the loan's official. What do you say?'

‘I say great minds think alike. How about a get-together at the pub Friday? You in?'

‘Yes. Definitely.'

He climbed into his ute and slipped the key in the ignition. ‘I'm gonna ask Adam, a few mates from the boats, Curtis, Ruby, Kyle and… Anyone else you can think of?'

‘Can I bring Ryan?'

‘Uh, yeah, if you want.' That surprised him. Ryan often came to the pub, but he tended to favour backpackers to locals when it came to company.

She laughed. ‘I'll talk to you before then, but it's a date.'

When Faith disconnected the call, Monty smiled. Victory. He'd mentioned Ruby without Faith getting her claws out. He hoped that if Ruby agreed to go out with him, Faith would give her a chance. He wanted the women in his life to get along and was damned if he knew why Faith had it in for her anyway.

Speaking of the women in his life, it was about time he called his mum. A twinge of guilt pricked his heart. Not calling her for weeks hadn't been intentional, but life had been busy, and he hadn't really had anything worth reporting. Now he could phone her and give her something to make her smile. He pulled up his contact list and dialled her number.

She answered on the second ring. ‘Daniel!' As if he was the prodigal son and she hadn't seen him for years.

‘Hi, Mum.'

‘How are you?' It wasn't the standard “how are you” people exchanged in the street. It was a mother's I-want-to-know-every-thing question.

‘Fine.' He paused for a moment and gave his head a quick shake. ‘No, I'm much better than that. I saw a bank manager today and it looks like I'm going to get a loan. I'm going to make an offer on the Payne farm.'

‘Oh, Daniel.' She sniffed, but it was a joyous sound. ‘I'm so happy for you.'

‘Thanks, Mum.' He shifted in his seat, hoping she wasn't going to get too emotional on him.

‘Have you got time to talk, sweetheart? I want every detail.'

So Monty leaned back in the seat of his ute, wound down the window and told his mum all about his plans for the new place. They talked for over an hour, and he felt closer to her than he had in a long time. Finally, he asked after Will.

‘He's going great, honey.' Her voice was so animated, so full of joy. ‘He's come on in leaps and bounds lately. Did Faith tell you he's got himself a job? And there's even a girl he's a bit keen on. I'm so proud of you both.'

‘Wow.' Monty tried to wrap his head around the idea of Will achieving these things. He'd always been bright—probably ten times brighter than Monty—but his disorder had held him back, stopped him achieving at the level other people of his intellect might.

‘Tell him I said hi,' he said, feeling another twinge of guilt that he rarely made the effort to call Will.

‘You could visit and tell him yourself,' she replied. ‘Or we could come up one weekend.'

‘Uh…' He didn't go home often. Mostly he was busy with work. He hated turning down jobs, and when you made yourself available 24/7, you could be occupied all the time. But that wasn't his only reason for avoiding his family. ‘It's not really a good time, Mum. Seeding's starting soon.'

He loved his brother, but Will wasn't the type of person you could get close to. No one knew how hard it had been—being the ‘normal' son in the family. That and the fact that Will had taken up so much of their parents' time—and been the reason for selling the farm—had always made Monty resent him slightly. So many times he'd wished he felt differently, and he knew that if he ever told anyone, he'd sound like a monster. So instead, as usual, he made an excuse.

‘Look, I promise I'll visit more when I'm settled in my own place.'

‘That would be good, sweetheart.'

As the sound of a barking dog filled her room, Faith sat up in bed, so hot and sweaty her pyjamas were soaked. She laid one hand against her wildy beating heart as she let out a slow breath and picked up her phone with the other hand. She shut off the noise and fell back against her pillow.

All week the same dream, over and over again.
Monty.

You'd think all the work and planning she was doing on the Barking Ball—not to mention the stress over the fallout with her father—would have left her too tired for dreaming, but she'd never dreamt so much in her life. And she'd certainly never had
those
kinds of dreams about her best friend.

She'd never even thought about Monty in a romantic fashion— and he'd given no indication of ever thinking of her that way either.

She didn't
want
to feel attracted to Monty. Their friendship was far too precious, and they shared too much history to risk it for something that might be a total and utter fizzer—because that was her fear. She might be able to dream red hot sex but so far she'd never been able to achieve it. And if she kissed him and it wasn't good—if she even told him about the feelings she'd been having—it would be too late to turn back. She'd not only jeopardise her most important friendship, she'd risk her bond with his family too.

How could she even contemplate the idea?

Noise of Ryan and her dad shuffling through the house, showering, opening and shutting wardrobe doors, jogged her into motion. Despite her logical thoughts, she felt somewhat robbed to be pulled from such a dream. One quick swipe of her pyjama covered arm against her sweaty brow and she threw back the covers. Pushing thoughts of Monty aside, Faith shoved her feet into her uggies and ventured into the kitchen.

She found Ryan leaning against the bench, waiting for the kettle, which was just starting to whistle on the stove. ‘Morning, sleeping beauty. Good rest?' he asked as he lifted the old iron kettle.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she wondered if he could read her mind.

Don't be ridiculous,
she told herself.
He's barely in touch with his own emotions, no way he can read yours.

She forced a smile. ‘Yeah, great thanks. You?'

‘All right. Want a cuppa?'

‘Thanks. And in return would you like bacon and eggs?' Cooking would take her mind off its nocturnal hang-up.

‘What's the catch?' Ryan joked.

Faith laughed and set to gathering her ingredients.

Ryan had been making a real effort since their chat on Monday. That effort hadn't yet stretched to cooking, but he'd washed the dishes every night and even done a load of midweek washing. Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same for her father. They'd all been treading on eggshells for years, but after her little announcement, things had moved from uncomfortable to impossible.

As if her thoughts summoned him, Frank Forrester lumbered into the kitchen, wearing his farmer's uniform of jeans and a blue chambray shirt, both of which had seen better days.

‘Morning, Dad.' Faith attempted a ceasefire smile but couldn't help glancing down at his feet already encased in dusty old boots.