Outback Secrets by Rachael Johns

Chapter Six

Mid Monday morning, Henri toed off her boots at the front door and headed into the house, the flyscreen door slapping closed behind her. After a few hours’ hard labour in the machinery shed, she was in dire need of a Diet Coke.

Her mother looked up from where she sat at the table, her sewing machine in front of her and an array of brightly coloured material beside it. ‘Hello, darling.’

‘What are you doing?’ Henri asked, as she yanked open the fridge and grabbed a can.

‘Sewing the buttons on Macy’s costume for the school Christmas play. You’re coming, aren’t you?’

Henri cringed. Usually she wasn’t home in time to see the endof-year school concert and it sounded mind-numbingly boring. She wouldn’t mind if it were just her nieces and nephews—it was the thought of having to watch other kids dance and sing for a couple of hours that put her off. ‘When is it?’

‘Thursday night, day before the kids break for the holidays.’

‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’ It wasn’t like she had much else to do and it would certainly earn her brownie points. ‘Anyway, I’m heading into town to pick up a new chain for the header and some sheep lick blocks. Do you need me to get anything?’

‘Actually, do you mind stopping in at the IGA for some eggs? I want to make a quiche for dinner and our girls have stopped laying for some reason. I’ll turn them into roast chooks if they don’t get their act together soon. And maybe some more wrapping paper—I don’t think I’ve got quite enough for the kids’ presents and I want to get them done this week before they finish school.’

‘Got it. Wrapping paper and eggs. I’ll be back soon.’

‘You’re not going yet, are you?’ she asked as Henri grabbed Cecil’s keys off the row of hooks on the kitchen wall.

‘I was planning on it, unless there’s something else you need me to do first?’

‘No, but …’ She frowned and shook her head. ‘You don’t even look like you brushed your hair this morning.’

‘I did so.’ Well, she’d run her fingers through it and scooped it into a ponytail. But even if she’d given herself a bloody blow-dry, it would have been ruined in the heat while she’d been tinkering with Callum under the header for the last couple of hours.

‘And those shorts are hardly suitable for town. They’ve got grease all over them. Why don’t you have a shower and put a dress on or something?’

‘A dress? Why would I wear a dress to go to The Ag Store and the IGA?’ Never mind the fact that she only owned one—her Christmas Day outfit—and it was definitely not grocery or farm shopping attire. ‘I’ll be heading out to work again as soon as I get back.’

‘Yes, but you never know who you might run into in town.’

Henri didn’t need to be a genius to know she was referring to eligible bachelors. ‘I’m not trying to impress anyone, Mum, and if I was on the lookout for a husband, I’d want a man who likes me for who I am—messy hair, stained shorts, holey old T-shirts and all.’

Her mother pursed her lips and Henri managed not to smile—she could almost see the steam shooting out her ears. ‘Fine. Drive safely.’

‘Will do,’ Henri said smugly, tossing the keys in her hand as she left the house.

On the ten-minute drive to town, she blasted McAllister Kemp from the stereo and sang along loudly, only turning the music down as she turned into the main street. Tilley was out when Henri arrived at The Ag Store, so it didn’t take long to pick up what she needed, and she decided she’d stop in at Frankie’s Café for a quick bite to eat. Maybe they’d finally have a chance for more than a five-minute conversation.

She couldn’t believe her luck when she found the perfect parking spot right out front, and it was only when she registered that no one was sitting outside that she remembered Frankie closed on Sundays and Mondays. She’d mentioned Saturday night that she’d be spending a couple of days with Logan at his family farm, visiting his brother and Simone. Dammit. She was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get to properly catch up with her best friend.

The IGA was pretty much deserted, but Henri nodded to the teenage boy behind the counter, grabbed a basket and set off. Having found the eggs and some very funky wrapping paper, she was humming along to ‘Six White Boomers’, which was playing on the stereo overhead, when she turned out of the aisle and came face to face with Eileen Brady.

Too late to turn the other way and pretend she hadn’t seen her, Henri pasted on a smile. ‘Morning, Mrs Brady.’

‘Actually, it’s afternoon now, Henrietta,’ Eileen said, tapping on her watch. ‘What mischief are you up to today?’

Mischief?Henri smirked. ‘Nothing exciting, just getting some eggs and wrapping paper for Mum. She goes a little crazy with the grandies’ Christmas gifts and always underestimates how much she needs.’

‘How lovely,’ Eileen said with a sniff. ‘Fiona is very lucky that she’s been blessed with both children and grandchildren. Tuck and I couldn’t have a family. It’s why I dedicated so many years to teaching Sunday School—you students were like the family I never had.’

Henri decided it was safer not to comment on that; Eileen might think quite differently if she knew what the kids used to say behind her back.

Instead, she smiled blandly. ‘Well, it was nice seeing you, Mrs Brady, but I better—’

‘Is there something going on between you and Mr Castle?’ Eileen interrupted, peering intently over the top of her ugly glasses.

‘Excuse me?’

For a moment Henri didn’t realise who she was referring to, but then Eileen raised her wiry eyebrows and added, ‘Because Janet said she saw you yesterday morning. She said you stayed in one of the rooms above the pub, but then when Karen was taking her morning constitutional, she saw the two of you exchange a kiss?’

‘A kiss?’ Henri echoed, thinking Eileen must be referring to the peck she’d placed on Liam’s cheek as a show of thanks. It was quite hilarious that this chaste gesture had been discussed around town and become evidence that the two of them had indulged in a raunchy one-night stand. Some people really needed to get a life. No wonder Henri preferred hanging around with blokes—they were far less prone to this kind of gossip.

She opened her mouth to tell the old busybody that she and Liam were just friends—although even that was a stretch—and she should mind her own business anyway, but Eileen continued before she could get a word in.

‘You should be careful, dear.’

‘Oh?’ Henri frowned, not liking her tone. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

The wretched woman leaned a little closer and spoke in a low voice, even though they were the only two people in the aisle. ‘I don’t like to gossip …’

Hah!Henri deserved a medal for withholding her snort.

‘But Mr Castle’s a bit of an odd one, if you know what I mean.’

‘No, I don’t think I do.’

‘Well, I’m sure you know he came to town ten years ago with nothing more than a rusty old ute and a backpack. No family has ever visited him as far as anyone can tell and he’s never had a relationship. Between you and me, I wondered if he was gay for a while—I’ve got no problem with gays, I’m very happy for Ryan Forrester and his fancy city husband, but rumour has it, Liam gets very friendly with his female guests, if you know what I mean.’ Eileen tapped the side of her nose. ‘So, I guess he’s straight, which makes me think he’s running from something. I asked old Sergeant O’Leary to put his name through the police computer when Liam first arrived, but he refused to tell me what he’d found! Then there’s that scar on his shoulder—he says it’s from an accident he had as a child, but it looks suspiciously like a bullet wound to me.’

Bullet wound?Henri was struggling to keep up.

‘All I’m saying is that you should be careful, Henrietta. There are plenty of men in town and a nice girl from a good family like yours could do a lot better for herself than a questionable publican.’

Questionable?Was Eileen for real? She was even worse than her mother!

Just because Liam had some scar, was single and possibly had the occasional one-night stand, he was questionable? Henri’s nails curled into her fists as she remembered this was a little old lady, not some guy riling her up about not being as good as her male colleagues. Which was a pity because she’d have no qualms about slugging the latter.

‘Thank you for your concern,’ she said instead, her smile so fake it made her cheeks hurt, ‘but as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, your warning is too late. I did spend Saturday night in Liam’s bed, but it wasn’t merely a one-night stand. I’m crazy about him.’

Eileen’s eyes grew so wide Henri thought they might pop right out of her head.

What the hell? Where had that come from?She’d meant to tell the interfering gossip that she could look after herself and perhaps add that Liam was a far better person than Mrs Brady could ever hope to be, but instead … Oh God!

‘Oh … well …’ Eileen recovered. ‘I must say I didn’t think he’d be your type, but who am I to interfere with young love? Anyway, congratulations, Henrietta. I hope he won’t break your heart.’

That was Henri’s chance to say she’d been joking, but suddenly a plan landed fully formed in her head. And it might just be perfect. Concocting a fake boyfriend would be the ideal way to get her mother off her back. And it should stop her sister and friends from encouraging Grant the matchmaker as well. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of the idea before.

Smiling smugly, Henri bid Eileen goodbye and headed for the checkout. Now that Eileen thought she and Liam were an item, it wouldn’t be long before the whole town was enlightened.

Only when she stepped outside and saw The Palace across the road did she realise the major flaw in her plan.

Liam!He would have to be in on the scheme for it to have any chance of working.

Shit. Bugger. Shit.

She stopped and stared at the pub, deliberating between going back into the supermarket and setting Eileen straight or …

Before Henri could talk sense into herself, she dumped the groceries on Cecil’s passenger seat and started across the street towards the pub, ignoring the way her heart rate accelerated the closer she got.

Of course, the door was locked and there was no sign of life inside when she peered through the windows. But just as she was about to give up and head back to look for Eileen with her tail between her legs, she registered music coming from somewhere round the back. Having come this far, she followed the sound of Midnight Oil singing their classic ‘Beds Are Burning’ to find a large shed, its door open, the music blasting out from inside.

Curious, she stepped up to the door. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior and when they did, they zeroed in on the very middle of the shed where Liam was bent, shirtless, over some kind of work bench with some kind of power tool.

He didn’t hear her at first, but when Sheila trotted over to her, he glanced up and switched off the machinery.

‘Well, hello,’ he said, turning towards her so she got the full view of his bare torso. Her mouth went dry at the sight.

Sweat glistened on his tanned chest, which had just the right smattering of dark hair, and she had the craziest urge to reach out and trail her finger down it. It was then she remembered what Eileen said and her gaze snapped to his shoulders—broad, bulky and, on the left, a scar that looked a bit like a birthmark, only it went inwards.

Couldit be from a bullet wound?

He cleared his throat, and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, putting down what looked to be a power sander.

Embarrassed to be caught with her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth, Henri suddenly forgot the reason for her visit.

‘What are you making?’ She gestured to the various pieces of wood spread across a large bench.

‘A rocking chair,’ he said, reaching to grab a black T-shirt off the edge of the bench, which he sadly proceeded to tug over his head.

Probably a good thing, because Henri was finding it hard to think straight with all that glistening bare skin.

‘It’s beautiful.’ She stepped forward and ran her hand over one of the curved pieces. It was even smoother than it looked. And it smelled good too, reminding her of the times she used to help her dad chop wood on the farm.

‘What are you going to do with it when you’re finished?’ She suddenly wondered if he’d made all the gorgeous furniture in the pub. ‘Do you sell them? This would make the perfect Christmas present for my mother.’

‘I do commissions, but this one’s for Dolce,’ he said. ‘Don’t let her know though—it’s a surprise. She likes to sit out on her porch at dusk watching the world go by and she mentioned her old rocker is on its last legs.’

‘That’s so sweet,’ said Henri, touched by the kindness he showed towards the old widow.

Liam looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Anyway, did you just come to chat about my side hustle or was there some other reason for this unexpected visit?’

All other thoughts evaporated as she remembered what she’d told Eileen. She wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on her shorts, then cursed silently as she looked down to see they were now covered in black grease.

‘Um …’ Heat flooded her cheeks as regret threatened to swallow her whole. What had she been thinking?

Of course, she’d have to tell her old Sunday School teacher it had been a joke. For all Henri knew Liam already had a girlfriend—the women of Bunyip Bay had to be stupid if they hadn’t worked out a way to tap that yet! Then again, if that were the case, surely Eileen would have known, and she’d have had no qualms about telling Henri off for sleeping with someone else’s man. The world might be a lot more accepting of certain things these days but as far as she knew, infidelity was definitely still regarded as a sin.

But that was beside the point—girlfriend or not, it was a ridiculous idea. Creating a fake boyfriend? It was like something you’d see in a rom-com, not something any rational person would actually try to pull off.

‘Um …’ she said again, then shook her head. ‘Never mind. It was nothing. I’m sorry I interrupted your work.’

But as she turned to go, Liam reached out and gently took hold of her wrist, turning her back to face him.

‘Why don’t I believe you, Henrietta?’ he said, his simmering grey eyes staring directly into hers. ‘Come on, I didn’t take you for a chicken. Why’d you really come?’

‘Because I told Eileen Brady that you and I were in a relationship,’ she blurted, trying to ignore the way her pulse raced under his touch.

‘You did what?’ He let go of her arm like it had burned him.

‘She confronted me in the IGA—apparently everyone’s talking about the fact I left the pub early yesterday morning. They think we slept together. I was about to set her straight, when she started mouthing off about you. Nothing annoys me more than people like her judging others and making assumptions. When she warned me off, saying I could do better than you and that I needed to be careful, I snapped and told her we were together.’

His eyes widened but Henri barrelled on.

‘And then I realised if I told my mother the same thing, it would get her off my back. She’s desperate for me to find someone in Bunyip Bay to settle down and make babies with. That’s never going to happen, but if she thinks there’s even a slight chance, it’ll make the next couple of weeks back here so much easier. Even my friends are trying to convince me to let Grant set me up with someone and this would put a stop to that as well.’

Liam made absolutely no comment while she delivered her monologue, nor did his chiselled face move a muscle. Henri wasn’t usually the type to get nervous, but right now her hands were sweating and she couldn’t seem to stop talking. The more she tried to explain what she’d done, the more ludicrous it sounded.

* * *

‘Are you insane?’ Liam asked when Henri finally stopped talking to catch her breath.

She grimaced. ‘Not usually, but sometimes my family and this town push me over the edge. I just snapped. Surely you can’t be happy about Eileen spreading nasty rumours about you?’

‘I don’t give a damn what people say or think about me,’ he said, struggling not to laugh. He only wished he’d been there to see the look on the meddlesome woman’s face. Always quick to take pleasure in other people’s misfortune, Mrs Brady was one of the few people in town he found it hard to like.

Henri hung her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘But …’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s kinda cute you felt the need to defend my honour.’

And that wasn’t the only thing cute about her. In those tiny denim shorts covered in grease, a tank top that looked like it had been worn so much it was thin in places, and her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as if she’d come here straight from rolling out of bed, he had to work really hard not to obviously appreciate her cuteness. Not to mention those incredible legs tucked into very dirty boots.

She looked up and her lips curved slightly. ‘Well, sometimes I speak before I think. It’s a flaw, but we all have them. Even you, I’m sure.’

He shook his head. ‘Nah, pretty sure I’m perfect.’

She rolled her pretty brown eyes and her expression relaxed a little.

‘Anyway.’ He cleared his throat and tried to focus on the issue at hand. ‘I get you want to do this to get your mom off your back, but … what exactly is in it for me?’

‘Um …’ Henri bit her lip, and it was clear she hadn’t thought this through one bit. ‘Well, is there anything you want or need?’

Geez, wrong question. There was only one thing Liam could think of off the top of his head, but he didn’t think that’s what she had in mind. And he didn’t want to come across as a sleaze. Besides, hadn’t he already established that sex with Henrietta Forward wouldn’t be a sensible idea? His policy aside, he had no evidence whatsoever that the attraction was mutual anyway.

‘I know.’ Her whole face lit up. ‘Surfing.’

‘Huh?’

‘Yesterday. You said you’d always wanted to surf. Well, I could teach you.’

The idea of surfing professionally had never even crossed his mind; from as young as he could remember he’d harboured ambitions to take the gourmet grocery business his parents had started and grow it into an empire. They’d had two very profitable supermarkets—one in Silver Ridge and one in nearby Monument when his parents had died—but he’d planned a chain of shops right across the state. He’d lied yesterday when he told her he wanted to surf professionally; weirdly, it was the first thing that popped into his head. Maybe because swimming was one of the many things he did now to keep himself from losing the plot. ‘You can surf?’

‘Don’t look so surprised. I grew up here in the Bay, you know. Flying isn’t the only thing I’m good at.’

I’ll bet. Liam’s mind took a fast dive into the gutter.

‘Dad used to be a lifesaver before he married Mum and they took over her family’s farm. He taught all of us to swim and surf almost as soon as we could walk. I’m not as good as my brothers—Andrew even won some competitions and stuff—but yeah, I know my way around a wave. So, what do you say? Lessons in exchange for pretending to be madly in love with me?’

An image landed in his head of Henri standing on a surfboard. In a figure-hugging wetsuit. Or a bikini! Surfing lessons with her would definitely not be a good idea. This whole proposition was a terrible idea. For a number of reasons.

Yet, instead of turning her down, he found himself saying, ‘You really think you could teach me to surf?’

‘Of course. As long as you can swim and have some sense of balance, I should be able to help you with the basics before I leave.’

‘Three weeks, right? That’s how long we have to keep this up?’

‘Just under. I’m heading south, day after Boxing Day.’

‘What are you doing there?’

‘Fire contract.’

‘And what happens then?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, who dumps who? It’s all very well fooling everyone for a short while, but we can’t keep this ruse up forever.’

She thought a moment. ‘I’ll dump you. We’ll have a big fight because you want me to give up flying and come run the pub with you and I refuse to give up my dreams and sense of self for a mere male.’

Mere male?He raised an eyebrow at how ridiculous that sounded. ‘I wouldn’t force you to give up your dreams.’

She smiled at him in a way that felt a bit condescending. ‘That’s very sweet, Liam, but trust me, no man likes a woman he can’t pin down. And anyway, it’s better this way—we need to protect your business. I don’t want people boycotting the pub because you dumped one of their own, and maybe if Mum sees I’ve tried and failed at another relationship, she’ll finally give up hoping for a miracle.’

‘Another relationship?’ That sounded like a story he wanted to hear.

‘I don’t really want to talk about that, if you don’t mind.’

That was a good thing—if Henrietta didn’t want to talk about her past then she probably wouldn’t pry into his.

‘Okay.’ He stretched out his hand. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’

She looked at him like he was the crazy one. ‘Are you serious? Does that mean you’re actually agreeing to my plan?’

He shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t live to regret it. His mission in life was to help people where he could, but this might be taking things a fraction too far. ‘Yeah. Why the hell not?’

‘Excellent.’ Henri’s face split into the most delightful smile as she shoved her hand into his. ‘I could kiss you.’

He forced a laugh as muscles all over his body tightened. ‘Maybe you should save that for when we’re in public.’

‘What?’ Her cheeks flashed a glorious shade of crimson again, and he hoped she was embarrassed rather than mortified, that she didn’t find the idea of kissing him that repulsive. Although perhaps it would be safer if she did.

‘Well, if everyone is going to believe we’re together, we’re going to have to be seen together.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, of course, you’re right. The surfing lessons will be a good start, but we’ll have to do other stuff too.’

‘Other stuff?’ He liked the sound of that way more than he should.

She playfully punched him on the arm. ‘I meant like go on dates, hang out in public.’

‘Problem is, I can’t exactly leave the pub this time of year. Now that harvest is over and Christmas is upon us, we’re busier than ever.’

Henri frowned a moment. ‘I guess I’ll just have to spend time here. But you’re not open till the afternoon, right? We can have lunch at Frankie’s Café. Or breakfast.’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Breakfast is good because it’ll look like we’ve spent the night together.’

Liam swallowed, then quickly banished the visual from his mind.

‘You free tomorrow morning for your first surfing lesson?’ she asked.

He nodded. Most mornings he took Sheila down to the beach and went for a swim anyway. ‘Do I need to borrow a board from someone?’

‘Nah, I’ll bring you one of Dad’s old ones. Thanks so much for doing this, Liam, you’re a gem. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Oh Lord, he thought, his eyes once again drawn to her luscious legs and her cute little behind as she strode out of his workshop.

He glanced down at Sheila to find her looking up at him in what could only be bemusement. ‘What the hell have I agreed to, girl?’