He was watching her, his expression unreadable in the soft light. "You're good at this."
"It's what I do," she said with a shrug.
"No," he said, his voice low and intent. "I mean, you're good at this. At being here. At the work, the books... all of it. You fit, Lara. You always did. I was just too proud and too hurt to see it when you came back."
The air stilled. The confession was quiet, but it landed with the force of a sledgehammer.
"I didn't fit then, Jax," she whispered. "Not really. I was a square peg. Now... I feel like the edges have been worn down. I feel like I could finally slot in."
He stood up slowly, the chair scraping against the wooden boards. He came to stand before her, the table no longer between them. The verandah light haloed his frame, and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that mirrored her own.
"The three months are almost up," he said, his gaze searching hers. "What happens then?"
This was it. The moment of truth, without the cover of darkness or the excuse of a crisis.
"I don't know," she admitted, her heart hammering. "My job... my apartment... it all feels like a life that belongs to someone else now. A life I built to prove I didn't need this place. To prove I didn't need you." She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But I do, Jax. I need this land. And I need you. I never stopped."
He let out a shaky breath, as if he'd been holding it for a decade. He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin with a reverence that made her want to weep.
"I've spent ten years building a life without you," he murmured. "And the whole time, it felt like I was just... waiting. For the dust to settle. For you to come home."
Tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "Is it still home, Jax? For me?"
He leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes closed. "It always was, Lara. You just had to be brave enough to come back and claim it."
And there, under the verandah light with the vast, starlit outback stretching out around them, he kissed her. It wasn't like the storm-driven kiss of passion and desperation. This was slower, sweeter, a promise. A homecoming. It was the sealing of a wound, the acceptance of a second chance, and the quiet, certain beginning of the future they were always meant to have.
Chapter 9:
The Last Fence
The final week of the three-month probation arrived, and the station was buzzing with a different kind of energy. The mustering was done, the books were in order, and a sense of peace had settled over Kiandra Station, a peace that felt earned.
Elara was in the homestead office, finalizing the application for a conservation grant she’d discovered, when Jax appeared in the doorway. He held two mugs of tea.
“Come on,” he said, a quiet command in his voice.“There’s one last fence to check. The boundary line on the northern ridge.”
They rode out in the cool of the morning, the sky a vast, cloudless blue. The tension that had once crackled between them was gone, replaced by a comfortable, easy silence. They reached the northern ridge by midday, a high, rocky spine of land that marked the edge of the property. The view was breathtaking, stretching out over endless plains of gold and red.
The fence here was old, the posts grey with age, the wires sagging. It was more of a symbolic boundary than a practical one.
Jax dismounted and walked to the highest point, looking out. Elara joined him.
“This was always my favourite view,” he said quietly.“Your grandfather brought me up here when I was a kid. Told me a man who owned a view like this was the richest man in theworld.” He turned to her, his eyes clear and certain.“I never wanted to own it alone, Lara.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn velvet box. Elara’s breath caught in her throat.
He didn’t get down on one knee. That wasn’t his way. He simply opened the box. Inside wasn’t a diamond, but a simple, heavy band of Australian gold, etched with the pattern of a gum leaf.
“I bought this for you ten years ago,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.“I was going to ask you up here. Then you left.” He took a deep breath.“I’ve carried it with me every day since. A reminder of the dream I thought was dead.”
Tears streamed freely down Elara’s face now, but they were tears of joy.
“This land, this life… it’s nothing without you in it,” he said, his gaze holding hers, steady and true.“Elara Flynn, will you stay? Not for three months. Not for a year. Forever. Will you marry me? Will you build that life with me we always talked about?”
She didn’t hesitate. She threw her arms around his neck, the vast outback their only witness.“Yes,” she whispered against his skin, her voice choked with emotion.“Yes, Jax. A thousand times, yes.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit, as if it had been waiting for her all along. He kissed her then, a kiss of promise and permanence, under the endless Australian sky.
