Two
Bel pulled into her driveway.Home. The day had dragged on forever, and she was already picturing a long, hot soak in the tub, then a hot date in bed with her book. After devouring the latest Lexington Millionaires book, she always went back to the beginning of the series to reread her favourites; it helped dull the pain of realising she now had to wait over a year until the next release.
A text message sounded. ‘Please make sure you read over your wedding-day timetable.’ Followed immediately by upbeat, emoji-filled replies from some of Larkin’s other bridesmaids.
Bel rolled her eyes as her phone pinged again, but this one was from Emma. ‘See you soon!’Shit. Bugger. Bum!The dinner thing. She’d forgotten all about it.
The image of her bubble bath faded from her mind. She dragged herself inside, dumping her handbag on the hall table with a low curse. She hated socialising with a passion. She dealt with people all day, and the last thing she wanted to do after work was go out and be all chatty, even if it was with her best friend and her family. She just wanted to read her book. Was that too much to ask?
Emma and Craig’s property, Fernvale, was only a half-hour drive, but it felt like an eternity tonight, when she would rather be at home. Still, she thought as she started the car up again, it was always a nice drive out their way, the wideopen paddocks stretching for miles either side of the narrow bitumen road before it turned to dirt for the last five or so kilometres of her journey to her friend’s front gate.
Her faithful old Subaru rattled and shook her about as it crossed the cattle grid that led to the long driveway lined with Japanese maple trees, which would put on the most amazing show of red, orange and yellow leaves come autumn, and eventually led to a ramshackle brick and fibro farmhouse. It had started as a small cottage and grown to a sprawling monstrosity over the last five generations. Emma and Craig, along with their four children, had lived there since Craig’s parents had retired to the coast three years ago.
Bel glanced at the dusty ute in the driveway as she pulled up and narrowed her eyes. Why was Dean Preston’s vehicle here? Before she could think any further, the screen dooropened and Emma came out, followed by her brood of children and a very excited Blue Heeler.
‘Jack! Get down!’ Emma yelled among the chaos of children running with a chorus of ‘Aunt Bel’s here,’ and ‘Come and see my bedroom,’ from the older kids, and ‘Pick me up!’ from Lucy.
With her displeasure at discovering she had been set up effectively defused by strategically placed children, Bel had no option but to be carried inside by a wave of small bodies with smiling faces. It was nearly impossible to stay mad around them, but she sent her friend a look that promised they’d be talking later.
It was close to twenty minutes later by the time Bel had successfully inspected said bedrooms with new doona covers and been presented with an array of artwork done for her at preschool and been given a personal introduction to Ben’s new stick insect pets, which she would be having nightmares about for the next week at least. By the time she came out, Emma and Craig were sitting out on the back deck with Dean, drinking beer.
‘They let you escape?’ Craig said, standing up to get her a drink.
‘For now,’ Bel said. Her gaze briefly went to Dean as she greeted him with a nod.
‘Now we’re all here, I’ll put the barbie on,’ Craig said as he handed Bel a glass of wine. The beauty of having been friends with the same people all your life is they know youso well. The downside to having been friends with the same people all your life is that, well … they know you so well …
‘Before you get mad,’ Emma said as soon as the two men headed for the opposite end of the deck to start cooking, ‘Craig invited him without telling me. I couldn’t very well uninvite him, could I?’
‘You could have mentioned it to me,’ Bel pointed out.
‘And have you make up some convenient excuse not to come? I don’t think so. Relax. Craig will keep him occupied and you won’t have to say a word to each other.’
Half an hour and another wedding-related text later, this one saying ‘Remember to drink lots of water, ladies! Keep that complexion fresh and those fine lines away!’, Bel was seated at the long table on the verandah, happily surrounded by the kids. She let Emma and Craig carry the majority of the adult conversation.
‘So, fill us in, Dean,’ Emma said as she finished cutting a slice of meat into smaller pieces for her youngest. ‘You’ve been gone a while.’
‘About ten years or so.’
‘Where have you been and what have you been doing since you left town? We don’t get many people coming back once they’ve made the great escape.’
‘I went away to ag college down south, then worked for a few years on some big properties in the Northern Territory and Central Queensland. Then some mine work for a bit.’He shrugged. ‘Then decided to come back to work the old man’s place.’
‘I was sorry to hear about your dad passing. That must have been a bit of a shock?’ Emma asked.
‘Yeah, it was. He was a stubborn old bastard, I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he’d ignored the doctors and kept pushing himself,’ Dean said, declining the sauce bottle that was being passed around the table.
‘Does that mean you’re home for good, or are you planning on selling?’ Emma asked.
‘For good, I suppose. Dad and I never really got along—he was still pissed off that I left in the first place, so I wasn’t expecting to come back any time soon. But now, I guess all the stuff I went away to learn will finally come in handy, even if he isn’t here to see it. I’ve got some big plans to upgrade the systems we use and do things differently.’
Bel suspected he was underplaying the significance of his father’s passing in favour of the typical, she’ll-be-right bravado used by a lot of the men she knew. There was being strong and manly, and there was being emotionally stunted. A real man knew it was healthy to show emotion—like Jax, when his Marine Corp father figure/mentor was thrown from a helicopter by that bastard Jenner in book two. Jax had openly wept, showing a strength of character that had been far more powerful than simply burying his grief and taking it out on a rampage of murder and revenge … which, admittedly, hehaddone by the end of the book. But still. Bel felt her eyes threaten to water at the memory. Poor Jax.
‘And you haven’t been married?’
‘Jesus, Em, we didn’t invite him over to be interviewed. Give the poor bastard a break.’
‘What? I’m only going to be askingyouall this after he leaves anyway, and you’ll just say, “I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” so I’m cutting out the middleman.’
