They turned back to the gathering. “Any issues there?”
“Dad didn’t mention anything, and he checked the references.”
Maybe Brandon would have another word with Taylor after the funeral. See if he was willing to admit to something in private.
Amy caught his attention, carrying a tray of food, serving the guests. She didn’t need to do that. Not on her own. “Let’s discuss it later,” he said. “Amy needs help.” Ignoring Sam’s smirk, he went to her.
***
People didn’t know when to leave. Amy had been making small talk and handing around plates of food for hours and still they stayed, chatting about Beth and Bill. Her eyes stung from blinking back tears and her cheeks hurt from offering sympathetic smiles. She wanted to hide away and get some air, but her role was guest liaison and she figured this was exactly what she’d been hired to do. She would take as much work away from the Stokes family as she could.
Her eyes closed and her chest ached as she remembered the way they’d all stood up one by one to support each other. She craved to be part of something like that. But it wasn’t likely. Yesterday she’d overheard Ed and Georgie talking and from the sounds of it, the station was almost bankrupt. They might not be able to afford to keep her. She’d have to move on. Again.
The thought added more despair to her day. The Ridge was home. She was used to the never-ending days of sun, the dry heat and even the red dust. The landscape was harsher but with it came a freedom to be exactly who she wanted to be. Even if one of the other stations in the area was hiring, it wouldn’t be the same.
“Need a hand?” Brandon’s voice tickled her senses. If she was honest with herself, he was another reason she didn’t want to leave. Which was ridiculous. She’d vowed never to get involved with a military man and she could feel herself sliding from admiration into genuine attraction. She felt even more drawn to him when he’d included her in the front row of the ceremony and when he’d slipped his arm around her waist to comfort her.
Amy handed him the plate of mini sandwiches she was holding. “Have at it. I’ll check our supplies.”
The military dress reminded her of her vow, but Brandon looked so good in it, it helped to shift the bad memories. She hurried across the yard to the house.
In the kitchen, Lindsay and Cheryl were doing dishes and Amy plated up the last lot of finger food she and Ed had prepared. Maybe with no more food coming out people would leave. No, that wasn’t fair. No one was here for the food. They would stay to catch up and commiserate, to unify the community in their sorrow.
Lee walked in from the interior corridor and winced when he saw Amy. “Sorry, I was busting for the toilet and the others were full.”
She smiled at him, though she didn’t like the idea of people wandering through the house. “It’s fine. Thank you for coming.”
“Bill and Beth were nice,” he said. “I took a couple of photos of the funeral.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure whether the family would want them, but just in case…”
“Why don’t you email them to me and I’ll see they get them?”
“Sure. I’ll see you later.”
Lee left and Lindsay turned from the sink. “Strange man. Who takes photos of a funeral?”
“He’s a keen photographer,” Amy said. “I guess it’s his way to capture everything.”
She’d have to ask whether Dot had questioned him. He’d been all over the farm so perhaps he’d seen something or taken photos which might be useful.
She carried the tray outside and scanned the remaining people for Dot, but the sergeant had already left. Sam leaned against a tree at the edge of the garden with his phone out, but he rarely glanced at it. He was watching the crowd. Alert. Lara clung like a shadow to Darcy although there were a few other children in attendance. Darcy’s shoulders slumped like they did when he’d put a long day in on the station. In fact all the Stokes children looked exhausted.
Brandon stood almost impossibly straight, overcompensating for his fatigue, Georgie’s light laugh was a little shrill as she spoke with Beth’s knitting group and Ed appeared as if he would like to be anywhere but where he was, talking with some of his father’s friends. A small group caught her attention and she wandered over. Jimmy owned the tour boat Georgie worked on and he was there with some of his crew. She offered him some food.
“Thanks, Amy. How are you holding up?”
The tears were close to the surface today. “I’m coping.”
“We’ll all pitch in if you need a hand.”
“There is something you can do,” she said, hoping she was picking the right people. “Can you encourage people to leave?”
He raised an eyebrow and the women he was with smiled.
“Georgie and the others are exhausted,” she explained. “They’re too polite to ask anyone to go, but I can tell they need some quiet.”
Jimmy watched Georgie. “You’re right.” He looked at the others. “Who wants which group?”
Amy left them to decide and carried the plate of food to the next group. When people asked how she was, she said it had been a long morning, and she was looking forward to some quiet.
