Tumble Creek (21 page)

Gazing down at her, Brock grinned, then he shook his head and laughed. Still chuckling he said, ‘Yeah, that's huge.' He gave her a kiss, brief and sweet, then said, ‘Go ahead, get Claudia a kitten and get her to move in.'

Sofie's eyebrows pulled together, questioning. ‘Are you serious?'

‘Yeah, I wouldn't suggest …'

She didn't give him the opportunity to say any more and pounced on him, arms around his neck, mouth on his for a big thank-you kiss. Suddenly worried she edged back and asked, ‘What about Sarge?'

‘Sarge will be fine, he's a gentle giant, and he'll be gentle with a kitten. It'll be good, trust me.'

‘Okay, second question and the most important: where do I get a kitten?'

***

The winter sun setting behind the hills cast a golden glow over Tumble Creek and its beautiful old buildings. Further out its rays warmed farms and vineyards. Life was good—no, Sofie thought, life was fucking brilliant. She smiled to herself and hoped her joy would penetrate Claudia's unreadable mood. Sofie daren't ask her how she felt, she was just happy that her sweet girl had agreed to have dinner at Brock's place. She glanced at Claudia sitting next to her in the old station wagon, her face still blank, not giving anything away. Perhaps her coming at all had something to do with how protective Brock had been when, out of the blue, Jett paid them a visit. Whatever it was, Sofie couldn't be happier that she was here. It was all positive.

Taking a deep breath, Sofie inhaled the aroma of rosemary and mustard rack of lamb, roast potatoes, and vegies that filled the car. Jennifer had insisted she take three hearty servings of her mouth-watering dinner, kept piping hot in a thermal bag. She'd told Sofie to give it another half hour in a hot oven and it'd be perfect. Brock got her message to preheat the oven and he'd texted back saying he'd organise dessert.

Sofie parked behind Brock's Ranger, and fiddled with the pesky seatbelt that over the years had become more and more difficult to unclip, fussing and silently cursing that one day she'd have to cut herself out with a nail file. Suddenly her joy disintegrated, replaced with concern that made her belly flutter with nerves.

Claudia had
not
moved.

Sofie's seatbelt sprang loose, flew past her face and clattered on the side strut just above her ear. In that same instant she saw Claudia's stricken face, mouth parted, staring out the windscreen. Sofie's heart stuttered. ‘Claud, what's up?' Slowly turning, she followed her daughter's gaze. Brock stood
barefoot
on the concrete porch. He was wearing his usual snug faded jeans, topped this time with a navy, long-sleeved Henley T-shirt, buttons on the crew neck undone, and sleeves pushed up to mid forearm.

‘Oh my …' Sofie breathed.

A tiny, furry ginger bundle slept cradled in the palm of his large hand. Sarge, looking proudly regal, sat calmly by Brock's side.

‘Claudia?' Sofie asked, worried.

Claudia turned to face her; tears trembled in her eyes and threatened to spill over, but she had the biggest grin lighting her face. She wiped at her tears and started fidgeting with her seatbelt. Sofie tried to help, and frustration building, they both started yanking at it. It finally relented and sagged like a dying thing on her lap. Claudia shouldered her door open, took a deep calming breath, and then, perhaps believing if she moved too fast her precious gift would disappear, she slowly walked along the brick path towards Brock.

Sofie stood by her car and, lump in her throat, heart thumping, she watched the scene unfold.

Claudia stopped barely a foot away. The affectionate grin Brock gave her was beautiful in its sincerity.

Something warm wrapped itself around Sofie's heart … love!

Powerful. Wonderful. Magnificent.

Dizzy with emotions, Sofie leaned on her car for support.

Claudia gave the ginger kitten, still in Brock's outstretched hand, a tentative pat. Then she leapt at Brock, arms flying around his neck, her face planted in his chest. Brock's free arm came around Claudia's shoulders, and then he murmured something. Claudia nodded against him and he kissed the top of her head. A sob caught in Sofie's throat, and she quickly cupped a hand over her mouth.

Sarge looked up at his master, then at Claudia and lastly at Sofie, his tail wagging, his body wriggling, barely able to contain his excitement and probably confused with all the human emotions bombarding him.

Claudia moved out of Brock's arms and carefully removed the kitten from his palm. Holding its bottom, she let it crawl up to nuzzle her neck. Then she did something brave but trusting: she hunkered down to greet Sarge with her kitten. The dog sniffed the kitten and, with just the tip of his tongue, licked its nose.

By now Sofie couldn't take any more and started to cry. Through a blur of tears, she saw Brock stride towards her. He embraced her protectively, and now it was Sofie's turn to press her face into his comforting chest.

‘Babe?' Brock's mouth brushed her ear, his deep breathy whisper made her shiver and sent delicious goosebumps down her neck.

Not sure why, she nodded, moved her arms away from his waist and swiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘I'm okay now.'

His big hands curved around her neck and jaw. Embarrassed at her emotional outburst she kept her face down and her red, swollen eyes closed.

‘Sofe,' he murmured low, ‘look at me.'

She had no choice and slowly opened her eyes, and then tried to bury her face in his hands, muttering, ‘I must look awful. Sorry about all this crying shit.'

‘Never be sorry about shedding a few tears over something as beautiful as what just happened,' sounded like a growl. Worried, she raised her chin and was met with his intense gaze. ‘And
never
hide it from me.' More intense staring into her eyes, then his softened and Brock pulled her in muttering over the top of her head, ‘Fuck me.'

‘What do you mean by that?'

His chest heaved.

God, I'm frustrating him.

Brock leaned back. ‘Your eyes are very expressive. Just relax around me, okay?'

Faint little kitten mews brought Sofie out of the moment. She reached up and kissed Brock's mouth. He smiled down at her. ‘I've got a rack of lamb in the car that needs to go in your oven.'

‘Okay, let's do this.' And, arm around her waist, hand on her hip, he guided Sofie inside.

After dinner, dessert of hot chocolate fudge pudding, and a movie,
The Hunger Games
, which was Claudia's choice, they sat by the fire. Brock had a beer, Sofie a glass of wine, and Claudia sipped hot chocolate, her kitten asleep in her lap.

‘Mum?'

‘Yes, sweetie.'

‘I can't take Gypsy to Veronica's, can I?'

‘Well, first of all, Jennifer doesn't know you've got a kitten. I have mentioned the possibility to her in the past, and she said it would be fine as long as you keep your pet out of the restaurant. It's health regulations. Sorry, honey, I didn't mean to make it harder on you.'

Claudia picked Gypsy up and snuggled her close to her chest, ‘It's not harder, Mum. I love having her. Anyway, I can keep her out.' She turned to look at Sarge who immediately raised his head. Then her eyes went to Brock. ‘Um … would it be all right if I spent the night? I could sleep on the couch and take Sarge for a walk in the morning before I go back.'

‘Sure, but no couch, take the spare room, yeah?'

Claudia smiled. ‘Okay. Um … would it be …' Changing her mind, she shook her head. ‘No, it's okay.'

‘No, come on, spill,' Brock urged, though his expression was a little on the scary side.

‘Would it be okay if I invited Michelle to come around in the morning? She'd love to meet Gypsy and help me take Sarge for his walk.'

‘Sure, go for it.'

‘Yay!' Claudia squeaked and hauled herself off the couch. ‘I'll let Sarge out and go to bed. Mum, have you go a spare toothbrush?'

‘Sorry, sweetie, I don't.'

‘You're in luck, I buy in bulk.' Brock inclined his head towards the kitchen. ‘There's a box in the pantry.'

‘Of course you have,' Claudia giggled. ‘Thank you.' She let Sarge out, went to the pantry and then, toothbrush in hand, headed for the bathroom. Within seconds, her exclamation echoed out through the door, ‘Wow! Awesome!'

‘I think she likes your bathroom.'

‘Second-best room in the house.'

‘Oh, what's the first?'

‘My bed.' His sexy hot grin beckoned.

‘Granted it is the size of a small room, but it's not exactly a room.'

‘Semantics.' Brock lifted Sofie onto his lap.

‘Whoa … what're you doing? Claudia hasn't even gone to bed yet.'

‘No sense in sneaking around, so she may as well get used to this.'

Claudia sauntered back into the living room, walked right up to them, kissed Sofie goodnight, and on her way to the back door to let Sarge in, she grinned and twinkled her fingers at Brock.

Sofie started to push off Brock's lap, saying, ‘I'll show you to your room.'

‘No need,' Claudia called back, ‘Yours is the one without the humongous bed.'

‘Right then,' Sofie mumbled, feeling Brock's chest shake as he chuckled.

Sarge got up, stretched his long legs and sauntered down the hall.

‘Where do you think he's going?' Sofie whispered.

‘Guess.' Brock lifted his beer and took a swig.

Sofie finished her wine and said, ‘I can't stand it anymore, I have to go see.'

Brock let her go and Sofie tiptoed silently down the hall to where Claudia was sleeping. Gypsy was lying on top of the bed, curled up in the crook of her lap. Sarge had sprawled himself out on a rug beside the bed. Hearing something, he quietly growled and sniffed the air as he lifted his head and chest. Recognising Sofie wasn't an intruder, his head hit the floor with a thump.

Brock's body heat pressed into Sofie's back. He slid an arm around her waist and tugged her firmly into him.

Head over her shoulder he whispered, ‘Claudia has a body guard.' His chest shook against her as he silently chuckled. ‘She'll be fine now,' he went on. ‘Watch the change, animals have the power to do that.'

‘Sarge is a remarkable dog,' Sofie whispered, ‘I hope I get the chance to tell Britt how amazing he is.'

Hearing the sound of his name—or possibly Britt's—Sarge lifted his head again, and with a groan, lay down with another thump to the floor.

‘I'm guessing he'll stay there all night on the hard floor,' Sofie whispered, feeling sorry for Sarge. ‘Do you think …?'

‘Yeah, I'll get his bed.'

Brock's bare feet thudded down the hall. Sofie grinned and made a mental note that her new house would be built on a concrete slab, with bamboo interlocking flooring.

***

During the week, Sofie sang or, as Claudia complained loudly, yodelled wherever she went. Because with each passing day, Claudia became more relaxed about staying longer. By the weekend, her sweet girl had moved into the spare room. Brock and Claudia joked about her singing, but she didn't care, they were bonding and this made her the happiest she'd been in a very long time. And Sofie wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, rock her world.

Brock bought an extra bed for Sarge so he didn't have to carry the one in the kitchen back and forth. And as he was at the pet store, he also bought toys for Gypsy, including a cat scratching-pole tree.

Brock had a shift at the station on Saturday, so Walter and Doreen were coming today, Sunday. Humming while making a batch of pancakes, Sofie listened out for a knock or keys rattling at the front door. And there it was at the usual time, eight-thirty. Sofie moved the skillet off the heat.

‘That'll be Mum and Dad.' Brock took her by the hand and headed down the hall to get the door.

So that Doreen would be comfortable and not worry, Sofie had made sure Doreen's bedroom was exactly as she'd left it. The night before, Sofie had hauled her clothes and shoes out. All her personal items were in the bathroom, which was fine, Doreen never went in there. Whatever was left she shoved in her suitcase and hid it under the bed.

Claudia poked her head out of her bedroom door and whispered. ‘Brock, who's at the door?'

‘My parents, remember? I'm sure I said. Every Saturday, sometimes Sundays.'

‘Shit—I forgot!' Claudia spun around. ‘I'm getting dressed!' she cried out, and shoved the door shut with her foot.

Brock chuckled, sauntered on with Sofie and opened the door. ‘G'day, Mum,' he said as he kissed her cheek. Startled, Doreen focused on Brock's face, especially his eyes, and slowly her own face eased into a big smile.

‘Thanks, son.' Walter hugged his son, strong, robust, and loving.

Brock followed after them. ‘Sofie's made pancakes. What do you reckon, tea or coffee with that?'

‘Um,' Doreen began, ‘I'll have … um … yellow, please.'

‘Okay, I can do yellow.' Brock shrugged.

Sofie was sure he'd work out what ‘yellow' was but didn't think he had any, at least she hadn't seen any in the pantry or the fridge. She hung back, knocked on Claudia's door and went in. ‘I know you're under that pile of feathers.'

‘Yeah, well I'm staying right here, not ready to meet Brock's mum and dad.'

‘I'm making pancakes.' Sofie hoped Claudia's love for them would get her daughter up.

Fingers at the edge of her down quilt, Claudia shoved it down and sat up. Gypsy, crawled out from underneath and started to bounce all over the bed. Weighing up her options, Claudia dived back under the covers, which muffled her next words but didn't disguise their hopeful tone. ‘Pancakes with maple syrup?'

‘Absolutely. I've got a stack ready keeping warm in the oven.'

The covers flew off again. ‘I'll throw something on.' She grabbed her long hair and tied it up in a messy bun. ‘Will I freak out Mrs Stewart?'