Outback Secrets by Rachael Johns
Chapter Twenty-three
Liam didn’t sleep well that night, but for different reasons than usual. Henri’s absence made his apartment feel eerily quiet and much bigger. Sheila had whined all night, making him think she too must be missing their house guest, or maybe she was still in a mood with him for yelling at her earlier that day. He’d given her a couple of treats after dinner and lots of cuddles to try and make up for it, then they’d both slept in his bed, between sheets that were now infused with the scent of Henri. At first, he’d imagined her lying there beside him. Thoughts of her naked body and exactly what they would have got up to that afternoon if they hadn’t been rudely interrupted filled his head.
But after a while he started visualising her lying in another bed fifteen kilometres away. Was she awake? Was she in pain?
And then it really hit him: Henri had broken her ankle!
He sat up in bed, startling Sheila awake and she barked.
Would this mean Henri couldn’t go back to work yet? Would that mean she’d stay longer in town?
Eventually, at about six in the morning, Liam threw off the covers and gave up. Luckily after too many years of sleepless nights, he was used to functioning on less than full energy levels.
Thank God for coffee, he thought, as he switched on his machine. After caffeine and a few pieces of toast, he and Sheila headed down to the beach for their morning swim. This was more to pass the time until it was a reasonable hour to go visiting than because he needed the exercise, but being in the water wasn’t the same without Henri.
On his way back to the pub, Liam made a detour to collect some flowers from Dolce’s garden, then he spent a couple of hours working in his studio before showering and finally allowing himself to head out to the Forwards’. He’d never been there before; in fact over the ten years he’d been in the Bay, he’d only visited a handful of actual homes. Mostly he kept to himself, using the pub as an excuse to avoid social invitations. Still, he had a general idea of the direction most people lived—including the Forwards—and when a large wooden sign with ‘Bungara Springs’ printed in bright red and currently bordered in gold tinsel loomed into view on the side of the road, he knew he’d come to the right place. He turned down the gravel drive and bumped along, passing sheep grazing in the dry paddocks on either side, until he came to a fork in the track. Thankfully, another wooden sign pointed him in the direction of ‘Fred and Fiona’s Place’.
He smiled sadly as he thought of how Henri must feel whenever she saw her father’s name there.
Not much further and he came upon a large, red-brick farmhouse with a paradise of a garden out the front. On either side of a cobblestone path were two jacaranda trees in full bloom, and there were numerous garden beds overflowing with native bushes and others a contrast with bright-coloured roses. Liam pulled up just outside the white picket fence that bordered the homestead. He plucked the flowers and a box of chocolates he’d picked up at the IGA off the passenger seat and then headed for the gate. Two old border collies wandered over to him from where they’d been resting under a jacaranda when he started up the path towards the house.
‘Hey there, buddies,’ he said, pausing a moment to let them sniff him. Their tails wagged furiously but he wasn’t sure if their excitement was for him or they could smell Sheila on his clothes.
When they’d calmed a little, he continued on and climbed the three steps onto the verandah. His heart pinched at the sight of the tinsel wound along the posts from one end to the other. Like many of the houses in town, it was covered in tiny lights and he could imagine all too well how festive it would look at night, but thankfully it didn’t have the same effect during the day. A large wreath similar to the one Henri had made for him hung on the front door and he tried not to focus on it as he raised his hand to use the knocker.
Instead, he focused on the other things that made this farmhouse exactly how he imagined one should be. The pairs of boots lined up beside the door, the two old cane armchairs, a box of firewood and—
The door peeled open to reveal Fiona Forward.
‘Hello.’ She looked from his face to the flowers and back to his face, smiling brightly. ‘I’ve been expecting you. Come on in.’
Liam blinked. ‘You were?’
‘Well, of course,’ she replied, ushering him into the house. ‘I imagine you were busy yesterday evening, but I knew you couldn’t stay away from my girl today. She’s in her bedroom feeling sorry for herself, but I’m sure your arrival will cheer her up.’
Fiona started down a long wide hallway with high ceilings and dozens of framed family photos hanging on the walls, but Liam didn’t have time to look at them.
‘I didn’t take my shoes off,’ he called as he hurried after her.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. A little dirt never hurt anyone.’ She paused in front of a door that had multicoloured wooden letters stuck to it, spelling out ‘Matilda’ and ‘Henrietta’.
‘Visitor for you, darling,’ Fiona said as she pushed it open.
Henri looked up from where she was lying on one of two single beds on either side of the room. Her eyes flashed with surprise. ‘Liam?’
‘I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.’ Fiona all but pushed him into the room and pulled the door shut behind them.
‘Hey.’ He smiled at Henri—she did indeed look sorry for herself—and then glanced to her feet. The left one was bare, but the right was bandaged and propped up on three pillows. There were wooden crutches leaning against the bed. ‘Heard you were in the wars. What exactly happened?’
‘I tripped over a hose,’ she admitted, then pointed to the flowers still in his hand. ‘Did you steal those from Eileen’s garden?’
‘What, these?’ He glanced down at the colourful bouquet. ‘No. No stealing necessary. They’re from Dolce’s garden and she was more than happy to oblige.’
‘Are they for me?’
‘Nah.’ He couldn’t resist teasing her. ‘They’re for your mum, but she didn’t give me a chance to give them to her yet.’
Henri crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Good, because I don’t like flowers anyway.’
Smirking, he put said flowers down on the dresser and held up the chocolates. ‘What about these?’
She thrust out her hand. ‘Give ’em here.’
Chuckling, he tossed them to her and as she tore off the plastic wrapper, he sat down on the edge of her bed. ‘You know … you’re kinda cute when you’re cranky.’
‘You’d be cranky too in my position,’ she said through a mouthful of chocolate. ‘My mother is driving me insane with her fussing and I can’t even run away.’
‘Sometimes I get cranky for a lot less. Does it hurt?’ He gestured to her bandaged foot, which looked twice the size of the other.
She sighed loudly. ‘What do you think? Luckily, the doc gave me some really strong painkillers.’
‘Is it really broken?’
‘No, thank God. Hurts like hell, but it’s not torn or broken—I just did a really good job of spraining it. I should be back on my feet in a couple of days, a week max. For a moment there, I thought I was gunna have to pull out of my next contract.’
‘You’re still going?’
‘I hope so. The doc says if I spend the next week resting, I should be okay.’ At least that’s what Liam thought Henri said but her mouth was once again full of chocolate.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand he was happy for her, on the other he found himself a little disappointed. He’d sort of got used to having her around.
Unsettled, he took a moment to check out the room and realised it was divided in two distinct halves. One side decidedly feminine—pink frilly bedspread piled with cushions, purple walls and a rainbow mural—the other, the total opposite. Henri’s bed, which boasted a doona with old-fashioned planes all over it, occupied this side and the walls here were lime green and covered with old country-music posters and photos of aeroplanes.
‘I’m guessing you used to share this room with Tilley?’
‘Yes,’ she groaned. ‘It was painful. I was so excited when she got engaged to James and moved into town with him, but Mum refused to let me redecorate and take over. I think she was hoping all that pink stuff would rub off on me.’
He reached out to pick up a photo frame on her bedside table and smiled down at the image of a slightly younger Henri standing in front of a small plane, mostly blue with a yellow stripe down the middle, propeller at the front and a miniscule cockpit. There was a large hangar in the distance and a smile on Henri’s face that reminded him of her expression yesterday afternoon when he’d just kissed the living hell out of her.
‘What kind of plane is this?’ he asked, not sure how to broach the subject he really wanted to talk about.
Henri gazed fondly at the photo. ‘That photo was taken on one of my very first proper jobs—it’s a radial powered Dromader. You have to coax them into life until an idle is established. Most of them bleed a bit of oil down the side of the aircraft, bad ones can haemorrhage. I actually flew one again in the Esperance bushfires in 2015 and the oil bleed was so bad that after a couple of hours, the windscreen was partially obscured by a trail of oil right up the side of the fuselage. Every time I refuelled, I also had to put fifteen litres of oil into the engine.’
‘So you don’t fly these aircraft now?’
She shook her head. ‘Very rarely. Mostly I fly AT502s or Thrush 510s. Both are 500 US gallon machines. The AT802s are mainly used when I do fire contracts, as they can hold 500 US gallons, but even they’re being used for some ag flying now. Last time I was topdressing in Victoria, the company I was with used Beavers—they’re Canadian aircraft and I quite like them too.’
He had no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded as if he did.
‘Sorry …’ she said. ‘I get a little excited when I talk shop.’
‘Hey, don’t apologise.’ It was good to hear her talking so passionately about flying again. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘You’re not boring me at all. Promise.’
She met his smile with one of her own. ‘That’s sweet of you to say.’
Liam wasn’t sure whether it was the chocolate or the plane talk that had improved her mood, but he was glad she seemed a little happier than when he arrived.
‘You know …’ She gestured to the box of chocolates in her lap. ‘As much as I appreciate these, you didn’t have to come all this way.’
‘You make it sound like I trekked across the Simpson Desert to get to you. It’s barely a ten-minute drive and I wanted to check you were okay. I would have come last night but by the time Drew mentioned you were hurt, it was too late to come out.’
‘I’m sorry for worrying you. I did call as soon as we got back from the hospital. I left a message with Lara.’
‘I know. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember to tell me until after we’d closed.’
‘Whoops.’ A gorgeous blush tinted her cheeks. ‘I had no idea when I asked you to help me the extent you’d have to go to.’
He slid his hand over her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. ‘It hasn’t been that much of a hardship.’ Her skin felt like velvet, and she shivered beneath his touch.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘But,’ he began, ‘I thought I made it clear yesterday that I think it’s time to make things a little bit more real?’
‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Liam?’
Her tone told him she didn’t mind if he was.
‘Uh huh. Kissing you. Surfing with you. Flying with you. Spending all this time with you … it’s driving me crazy, but I don’t want to lead you on. This wouldn’t be … You need to know …’
He swallowed—why was it so hard to lay his cards on the table? He’d done it time and time again with other women.
‘I’m not interested in a relationship,’ he managed eventually. ‘All I can offer is a …’
Henri raised an eyebrow as he tried to find the right expression. ‘A fling, Liam? Is that the word you’re looking for? One-night stand? No-strings-attached bonking? Fuck buddies?’
‘I …’ He didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know whether she was amused or pissed off.
‘Because that’s more than fine with me. Your touch would have to be pretty damn magic to have me start fantasising about white weddings and happily ever afters if that’s what you’re asking. I’m too selfish for a relationship anyway. My career will always come first.’
‘Me too. That’s good.’ He nodded. ‘By the way, I lied. The flowers are for you.’
She grinned. ‘Excellent, because I lied when I said I didn’t like them. But now we’ve got all that sorted, are we just going to keep talking? Or are you gunna shut up and kiss me?’
‘Well, since you asked so nicely.’ He pushed her back onto the mattress and lowered his head to hers.
A knock sounded on the door.