Outback Secrets by Rachael Johns

Chapter Five

When Henri woke, her head seemed to have become the stage for a heavy metal rock band and her throat felt like she’d scoffed a box of Weet-bix without any milk. She groaned, opened one eye slowly—even that simple action hurt like the devil—and then the other. Nothing about this room looked familiar, and was that furry thing slumbering at her feet a dog? It didn’t look dangerous and the little sleepy noises it was making were kinda sweet, but still …

Where the hell am I?

She rolled towards the bedside table and saw her phone and bag alongside a bottle of water, a packet of Panadol and a Mars Bar. Ugh. She could not stomach chocolate right now.

Wincing, she sat up slowly and reached for the water. After swallowing two painkillers, she picked up her phone to find a message from Tilley.

Mum thinks you stayed with me last night. Did you sleep in Cecil or did you find alternative company? Hope you were safe and don’t have too sore a head this morning. xx

Trust Tilley to add ‘kisses’ even when she was being all big sisterly and superior, but thank God she’d provided an alibi for their mum. Not that she should have to. At almost thirty years old, Henri was big enough to look after herself, but the moment she stepped back into Bunyip Bay everyone resorted to treating her like a child. She wouldn’t be surprised if they sat her at the kids’ table for Christmas lunch.

Annoyed, she deleted Tilley’s message without replying and surveyed her surroundings as she tried to work out where she was and how exactly she’d come to be here. She thought back to yesterday afternoon at home … She’d been helping her mum make candles for Christmas gifts, when she’d started on at Henri again about growing up and putting down roots.

She was incorrigible—even when Henri was helping her, making an effort to spend quality time with her—she couldn’t leave her alone.

Did she somehow know about the crash up north? Henri definitely hadn’t told her, and she hadn’t yet been able to bring herself to tell Tilley or her brothers either—but maybe her mother had a sixth sense. Or maybe Henri was just being paranoid.

Then again, this wasn’t really anything new. It used to be that her mother would drop subtle hints that it would be nice to see Henri more often—saying things like she was glad she’d started her family young, well before her biological clock started ticking—but this time Henri had barely taken her first sip of tea before she’d started on at her. And since then, she’d been like a broken record and had given her lecture-slash-plea so many times that Henri could probably harangue herself.

‘I know you like flying, but you’ve had your fun now, darling. You’ve seen some amazing places, had some exciting experiences, and the Lord’s looked after you so far, but every time you fly it’s not only your life you put on the line. My blood pressure hasn’t been the same since you took to the skies and I went grey before my time worrying about you, young lady! Besides, your career simply isn’t compatible with having a family.’

‘Who ever said anything about wanting to have a family?!’

The last thing Henri needed was her mother mouthing off about her flying right now—she had enough worries of her own. But of course, her arguments always fell on deaf ears. Fiona Forward simply couldn’t understand that anyone might want to take a different path than she had—marriage, four kids and even more grandchildren to cluck over. Three out of her four children had procreated—wasn’t that enough?

‘You know that agronomist who works with James?’

‘No,’ Henri said, already dreading what was coming.

‘I’m sure you do. Toby Cooper—redhead, tall, lovely smile. He came to town about five years ago with his wife, but she hated country living and they’ve recently divorced.’

‘And that’s a good thing?’ Henri glared at her.

This was why she usually made excuses about only being able to come home for a few days. It had been different when her dad was alive because he’d always stuck up for her, but now …

Having lost track of the number of eligible bachelors her mother had hinted at over the last few days, she was this close to storming out when the phone rang. She’d jumped up to answer it and almost cried with joy when Tilley asked if she wanted to come for dinner at the pub. She hadn’t been able to get ready fast enough.

Yet the company at The Palace hadn’t been as enjoyable as she’d hoped. She glowered as she remembered her so-called friends, sister, and even her brother-in-law prying into her life, picking holes in her choices and not listening when she’d insisted that she didn’t need Ryan’s husband to find her one!

Thankfully they’d backed off when she returned to the table, but just when she’d finally been starting to relax again, Ruby had glanced at her watch and exclaimed surprise that it was already nine o’clock. They’d all started mumbling about it getting late, as if they’d turn into pumpkins if they didn’t call it a night immediately. Knowing her mother would likely still be up watching home improvement shows or the cheesy Christmas movies that had already started on Netflix, Henri ignored Tilley’s insistence that she should go too and instead ended up hanging out with a bunch of people who’d been quite a few years behind her at school and were more interested in drinking games and hooking up than weddings and babies.

Oh my God!She sat up a little. Had she gone home with one of them? Most of them were barely out of adolescence and she actually used to babysit Brad McDonald. The thought of doing the horizontal mambo with him made her stomach roil and she hoped her drunken-self had had more sense than that.

How much had she actually had to drink? Right now, Henri felt like she’d been swimming in the vats at a distillery, and the fact she couldn’t remember getting here wasn’t a good sign.

What was wrong with her at the moment? Normally the prying questions of her friends and family would have been water off a duck’s back, but ever since the accident she’d been tender. More on edge. Definitely defensive. Still, she couldn’t let this happen again. She couldn’t turn to alcohol every time someone pissed her off. A couple of drinks was one thing, but having no recall of what had happened after her sister left last night made her feel very uneasy.

In the midst of her panic attack, she heard a faint whistling coming from somewhere beyond the bedroom. Her heart jumped. Was that coffee she could smell? She inhaled deeply. And maybe toast?

Right now, plain toast and coffee felt like perhaps the only thing she could stomach, but that depended on who was making it.

She glanced around the room looking for clues. With its grey-toned walls and lack of any feminine frippery, it could belong to a bachelor, but it was much neater and more sophisticated than most of the guys she’d been with before. And it didn’t smell funny either. This bed was so damn comfy, and the forest green sheets didn’t feel cheap or dirty—they were as silky soft as those in a five-star hotel, not that she’d stayed in many. There were a couple of framed paintings of snow-capped mountains hanging on one wall and a family photo on the dresser. At this distance she couldn’t make out the people but, hoping it would give her some clue as to whose bed she was in, she threw off the sheet to go take a look when a man appeared in the doorway.

He was tall—although pretty much everyone was taller than her—with very broad shoulders and tousled, whiskey-coloured hair, that was neither long nor short. The stubble on his jawline suggested that he sometimes shaved and sometimes didn’t bother. In one hand he held a mug and in the other a plate.

The dog raised its head, and Henri could almost swear it smiled at him.

‘Liam!’ As recognition dawned, she remembered talking to him while he poured her drinks. Until last night, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words, but she’d enjoyed their chat much more than talking with her friends.

‘Morning, Henrietta.’

Too flustered to reprimand him for using her full name, she blurted, ‘What am I doing here? Did we sleep together?’

Her insides squeezed as she wondered if she’d have to go get the morning after pill from the local pharmacist who’d known her since she was a small child.

‘No. We did not,’ Liam said, instantly putting her at ease.

‘Thank God.’ She flopped back against the rather comfy pillows. ‘Because when I shag someone, I like to remember.’

‘And when I shag someone, I prefer them not to be comatose.’

Guilt swamped her and she didn’t want Liam to think she was accusing him of anything untoward. The fact her Blundies were still on her feet and her skinny jeans zipped seemed evidence enough that he was telling the truth, but then … what on earth was she doing here?

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s fine,’ he said, a little gruffly. ‘Anyway, I thought you might like some coffee and toast.’

She smiled up at him. ‘Thanks. I’d kill for a coffee, but do you mind if I use your bathroom first?’

He nodded towards an open door off the bedroom. ‘You know where it is. I’ll give you a few moments … Feel free to grab a towel from the cupboard and have a shower if you like. As I mentioned last night, there’s a clean toothbrush under the sink too if you want it.’

Then the poor man slunk out of his bedroom like he was the one who had no right to be there. The dog hopped off the bed and followed after him.

Henri waited a couple of seconds and then fled into the bathroom and gasped at the sight of herself in the mirror. No wonder Liam had suggested a shower—with her hair standing up at all angles and her eyes puffy and bloodshot, she looked like someone ready to go Trick or Treating—but she didn’t have any fresh clothes to change into.

She did however accept the offer of the toothbrush, steal some of his deodorant and splash water against her face.

As she headed back through the bedroom to collect her things, she couldn’t resist pausing at the dresser and taking a squiz at the photo she’d seen earlier. A couple who looked to be in their early to mid thirties and two kids—a boy and a younger girl—smiled happily back at her. She picked it up to take a closer look.

Was the man or the boy Liam? Henri found it hard to tell, and what did it matter to her anyway?

Putting the photo back down, she grabbed her phone, shoved it into her bag, then took a deep breath and walked out.

‘Hi,’ she said sheepishly when she found him sitting at the kitchen counter, flicking through the Sunday Times as he sipped a cup of coffee.

‘Feel a bit better?’ he asked, looking up.

She nodded.

‘Want some toast? I can make some fresh?’

‘Um …’ Henri felt she ought to say no—he was probably just asking to be polite—but her stomach groaned so loudly even Liam must have heard it. ‘If it’s not too much trouble?’

‘Not at all. Take a seat.’

He stood and crossed the small kitchen to put two more pieces of bread into the toaster as Henri slipped onto a stool.

‘So, if we didn’t … you know … how did I end up in your bed, and where did you sleep?’

He frowned as he poured her a fresh coffee. ‘You really don’t remember anything about last night?’

Her face, neck and even her ears grew hot. ‘Not really. I didn’t do or say anything crazy or stupid, did I?’

‘Not that I know of. Unless you call falling asleep in a public drinking establishment crazy?’

‘Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places. My job has trained me to sleep anywhere.’

‘Guess it’s better than driving home drunk. Any sugars?’

‘Two, please. And I would not have driven home,’ she said, horrified. ‘I might have had more to drink than usual, but I’m not stupid. I’d have slept in Cecil.’

‘Cecil?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, my Kombi—he’s the love of my life.’

The toast popped but Liam didn’t reach for it. ‘You have a Kombi van? Does it have a bed in it?’

She nodded. ‘He’s outside in the car park.’

Liam started laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Last night, when I found you curled up on the couch near the pool table, I could barely wake you. I offered to call Tilley to come get you, but you told me you’d sleep in your car. I didn’t know it had an actual bed in it, so I offered you a room instead.’

‘Whoops.’ Henri smiled apologetically. ‘Didn’t I mention Cecil was a van?’

He shook his head. ‘All you mentioned was how lovely my eyes were and how much you wanted chocolate.’

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine. Really. All part of the service. And in answer to your question, we came in here so you could use my bathroom, but you fell asleep in the bedroom instead. I slept on the couch—I promise. I’d have taken the free room myself but I wanted to be close in case … you needed anything.’

Henri guessed that was his polite way of saying he wanted to be able to hear if she started vomiting in her sleep and he needed to stop her choking to death. How utterly mortifying to have got so pissed that this stranger had to give up his bed for her.

‘I promise I don’t usually behave this way, but things have been a little stressful lately and my mum’s been driving me crazy since I got home. I was angry at her when I arrived last night and then … never mind.’ The guy might be a good Samaritan but that didn’t mean he needed to hear her woes. ‘I’m usually much better at holding my grog but I must have been really tired or something.’

‘Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse drunks than you. You weren’t verbally abusive, you didn’t tell any terrible jokes, and in the end, you didn’t even throw up.’

Thank God. ‘Well, I appreciate it anyway.’ She finally took a sip of coffee. ‘Geez, that’s good.’

Liam grinned, and damn if it wasn’t the kind of smile that made Henri feel a little off kilter. More likely it was just the alcohol still lingering in her veins.

‘There are few things in life I take more seriously than coffee,’ he said.

‘We have that in common then,’ she replied, returning his smile.

‘What do you want on your toast?’ He plucked the slices from the toaster and slapped them on a plate. ‘I’ve got Vegemite, honey or blueberry jelly?’

‘Vegemite, please.’

The moment Liam unscrewed the lid on the jar, the dog started sniffing the air.

‘You’ve already had your breakfast,’ he told her, the affection clear in his voice. ‘This is for our guest.’

‘Your dog’s a real sweetie,’ Henri said, smiling down at the odd-looking thing. Its body was speckled grey and white, but its head was mostly black with flecks of ginger.

‘She’s not bad.’ He slathered the toast with butter and Vegemite then passed it to her.

‘Thanks.’ She took a bite of her toast, then frowned. ‘Was it downstairs last night? Or does it stay up here while you work?’

‘It is called Sheila. And she was asleep behind the bar.’

‘She must be a very well-behaved dog. I don’t remember seeing her at all.’ Not that she remembered much.

‘She’s quiet unless a brawl kicks off and then she barks and bares her teeth. Much more effective than a bouncer.’

Liam didn’t look like he needed a bouncer. Henri reckoned those broad shoulders and muscular arms would be more than capable of handling any drunk and disorderly behaviour.

‘What kind of dog is she?’

‘Blue Heeler Kelpie cross.’

That accounted for her multicoloured fur. ‘I miss having pets. That’s the one negative about not having an actual house to call home.’

‘Do you live in your van?’

She nodded. ‘Kinda. When I’m working on stations, the owners usually give us accommodation, and other times I stay in hotels, dormitories—it all depends on the location and the contract. But Cecil is my home. He’s where I keep my few important possessions and it’s handy to just be able to pull over on the side of the road and have a kip when I’m driving long distances between contracts.’

‘Did you always want to be a pilot?’ he asked, taking a bite of his toast.

‘For sure. My dad was into aircraft—he made and collected little models—but one of my earliest memories is of an Air Tractor flying over our farm, spraying fertiliser on the canola. I remember thinking that flying so low, swooping dangerously close to the ground, must be what it felt like to be a bird. I know every kid wants to fly like Wendy and Peter Pan, but from the moment I first saw that AT, I knew the only thing I wanted to be was an ag pilot.’

‘So you were a plane-mad kid, rather than a horse-mad one?’

‘Horses schmorses.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I honestly don’t know why girls get so stupid over them.’

‘Don’t let Ruby hear you say that.’

‘Or my niece, Macy. She’s obsessed as well. What about you? Did you always want to own a pub?’ she asked.

‘If you mean was it what I told people I wanted to do when I grew up, then no.’

‘So, what did you want to do?’

Liam took his time replying and it seemed to Henri that he was thinking over his answer more than necessary for such a simple question. ‘Um … I wanted to be a professional surfer. Only problem was there weren’t any beaches where I grew up.’

‘Colorado, right?’ She smiled victoriously. ‘See, I wasn’t that drunk last night. But yes, I imagine no beaches would be quite an obstacle to becoming a pro. Do you surf now?’

‘No, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but I swim most days,’ he said. ‘How often do you come back to Bunyip Bay?’

‘That depends on who you ask. I think I come back often enough, but Mum would disagree. She doesn’t understand that …’ Henri’s voice drifted off as she realised how close she’d come to unloading on Liam about her family issues again. ‘Speaking of my mother, I’d better be getting back to the farm or she’s liable to send out a search party.’

‘We don’t want that.’

He didn’t know that her mum thought she’d been at Tilley’s place, but she’d already overstayed her welcome. Liam had probably only been being polite when he’d offered her breakfast and was likely now wondering why she was still here rabbiting on.

She took her empty plate and mug across to the sink and turned on the tap.

‘Leave that,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it later.’

‘Okay, thanks—for the coffee, the toast, and for everything. I owe you one.’

He shook his head. ‘As I said, all part of the service. Come on, I’ll see you out.’

The two of them headed downstairs, with Sheila trailing dutifully behind. They emerged into the main area of the pub and came face to face with a friend of her mother’s. Oh shit.

‘Henrietta!’ Janet exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?’

Henri could ask the same of her, but the cleaning equipment she was carrying gave her away.

‘Um …’ She didn’t exactly want to say she’d passed out and Liam had to put her to bed, but if she didn’t come up with something, half the town would soon think that Henri Forward had spent the night with the publican. There was a lot to love about small towns, but idle gossip was not one of them.

‘Henrietta stayed in room seven last night,’ Liam said quickly. ‘She was going to sleep in her van but since we had some free rooms, I told her to take one.’

‘Oh, I see. That’s very generous of you, Mr Castle.’

Henri nodded. ‘Anyway, it’s lovely to see you again, Janet.’

‘Yes, you too, Henrietta. I’d better finish clearing up the breakfast things, but you take care, dear. I hope we’ll see you at the town hall for wreath-making on Friday.’

It was an order not a question. But although Henri couldn’t really think of anything worse, her mother had already asked her to go, and she wasn’t a complete beast of a daughter!

‘Of course, I’m looking forward to it. See you there.’

Liam opened the main door at the front and as light spilled into the building, she spotted Cecil sitting all on his lonesome in the customer car park.

‘Well, thanks for everything,’ she said. ‘I—’

Liam held up a hand. ‘Honestly, you’ve thanked me enough. If you say it again, it’s going to start to get embarrassing.’

She laughed. ‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’

Then, before even realising what she was doing, she stretched up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. She quickly withdrew, but as she turned and hightailed it for her van, the scent of Liam lingered.

And man, he smelled good. A delicious cocktail of coffee, expensive soap and woody cologne.

She pushed the thought aside and climbed into the car.