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‘Salad?’ Cy smiled.
‘You’re getting to know me well. Yes, salad.’
‘You make a salad, and I’ll cook the steaks I thawed today. Might give you a bit more energy.’
‘Worth a try.’
Cy frowned as Tarni stood and then grabbed for the benchtop. ‘Whoa, there,’ he said as he steadied her, both hands on her waist. ‘Don’t go passing out on me.’
Her face coloured, and she moved away from him after a few seconds. ‘I’m okay. Just got up too quickly.’
‘Do you want me to cook and bring the steaks to the house?’
‘No. let’s sit around the fire pit. It’s going to be a nice night, and I like being outside.’
They walked out of the shed together. Cy went to his ute and lifted the bonnet under the pretext of checking the oil, but he was more concerned with checking that Tarni got up to the house okay.
When she unlocked the front door and went inside, he closed the bonnet and went around the back of the shed to see to the fire and get the steaks cooking.
***
Tarni
Tarni had lost her appetite, and nothing made her feel much better. She’d enjoyed the sausage and egg sandwich that Cy had cooked for lunch on Monday, but since then, she had barely eaten. She berated herself, thinking that was probably the reason she was lightheaded—she needed to make herself eat and get some energy. She rubbed her back with her good hand; her lower back had been aching for several days.
As she chopped the last of the fresh salad vegetables she’d bought at the shopping centre on Sunday after they left the hospital, Cy’s footsteps sounded on the front stairs. She waited for him to enter the kitchen, but there was a tap on the front door, and she frowned again. Wiping her hands, she walked to the door.
‘Did I lock the screen door?’ Her memory had been dreadful this week.
‘No.’
‘You don't have to knock.’
‘I'm just being polite,’ Cy said. ‘My Aunty Suzanne taught me manners.’
It was the first information he volunteered about growing up, and she let it go. ‘Well, I’m pleased to see you have good manners. Come in and don't knock again, silly. I grilled some leftover chicken breasts to put in the salad. Is that okay with you? Will it go with steak?’
‘Does it taste like KFC chicken?’ Cy asked with a grin.
‘I can put some spices in there if you want.’
‘Sounds good. Colonel Sanders’ secret herbs and spices?’
She chuckled. ‘You’re a KFC tragic, Cy. I’m sure I can rustle up something similar.’
‘You look a bit better than you did before.’ Cy sat on the stool at the bench while she mixed the salad.
Tarni grinned. ‘I pinched one of your Cokes from the fridge. That water is giving me an awful taste in my mouth.’
‘Told you to drink the tank water. But you’re welcome to my Coke.’
‘Next thing I know, I’ll be craving KFC.’
‘That’s not a bad thing. I've got a proposition for you,’ he said. ‘And we could get some KFC on the way.’
‘On the way to where?’
‘How would you like to visit a cattle station?’
