Home Before Sundown (15 page)

Anton, in cream linen slacks, a loose black T-shirt and open-toed sandals, looked unmistakably Gallic as he sat on a kitchen stool with a glass of red wine, while Liz fussed at the stove and Bella set the table.

‘You don't mind eating in the kitchen, do you?' Bella asked him.

‘No, of course not.'

‘Our neighbour, Gabe Mitchell, might be joining us,' she added casually, as she arranged the fourth place mat and cutlery, then went in search of napkins.

Gabe hadn't answered her second phone call and he hadn't responded to her message, so she wasn't sure if he was coming and the tension was killing her.

‘Your neighbour?' Anton looked amused. ‘But how far away is his house?'

‘Oh, about twenty kilometres.'

‘Just around the corner then,' Anton said, smiling.

‘That's what it's like in the outback.'

‘Does this neighbour live alone?'

‘He – ah – has family, but they're away on holidays at the moment, so Liz and I have taken pity on him.'

‘That's kind of you.'

If Gabe turns up, I hope he'll agree
.

‘Here's Gabe now,' said Liz.

Bella jumped. Through the window she saw the sweep of a truck's headlights as it turned into the parking space beyond the hedge. She heard the faint slam of the truck's door.

Her heart thumped wildly. Gabe had come, after all. Perhaps he'd left home early to check something on the way and he'd missed her message. And tonight he was expecting to have a private conversation, an important, very personal conversation, crucial to their future.

What would he think when he realised his mission was impossible?

Turning from the window, Bella found Anton watching her. She hoped he hadn't guessed how tense she was. With an effort, she smiled at him. ‘Can I top up your wine?'

‘Not now, thank you.'

She needed to keep busy. Her armpits were damp and her stomach was churning as she cast a nervous glance over the table settings and the bowl of salad she'd prepared. ‘I forgot the salad tongs.' Grateful for any excuse, she dived for the cupboard.

As she did, there was a knock at the front door.

‘I'll go,' said Liz.

Thank you
.

As her aunt's high-heeled sandals clicked down the hallway, Bella was as tense as a swimmer poised on the starting block and waiting for the gun.

She heard Liz say, ‘Hello, Gabe.'

And she heard his deep reply, but although she strained her ears, she couldn't catch his words nor what Liz said next.

‘Bella.'

Anton's voice sounded close by and she jumped again. He was right behind her, slipping his arms around her, the way he'd done many times in France. Bella had never minded the possessive gesture before. But tonight was different. As Liz and Gabe's footsteps came back down the hall towards them, she stiffened.

Dipping his head, Anton nibble-kissed her ear.

‘Not now,' she hissed frantically.

‘What's the matter?' He sounded offended.

‘Our visitor's here.'

‘But I'm here, too, and I'm––'

Liz and Gabe came into the kitchen. Too late, Anton stepped away.

Gabe was dressed in a fine-checked blue and white shirt and slightly rumpled moleskins instead of his usual jeans. He looked incredibly gorgeous.

And terribly shocked.

Bella's heart crashed like ripe fruit falling onto concrete, splitting open, spilling . . .

She felt dizzy and she gripped the back of a chair to keep upright. She couldn't speak.

There would have been an awful, awkward silence if Liz hadn't taken control.

‘Gabe, I'd like you to meet Anton Bazile. Anton's a friend of Bella's from France. Anton, this is our neighbour, Gabe Mitchell.'

‘'Ow do you do, Gabe?'

‘G'day, Anton.'

The grimfaced men exchanged hard-eyed appraisals as they shook hands. Anton was about the same height as Gabe, but leaner, making broad-shouldered Gabe look almost thickset by comparison.

‘Anton arrived on the mail truck,' Liz said brightly. ‘It was a huge surprise.'

‘No doubt.' Gabe's steely, unsmiling gaze switched to Bella. ‘Evening, Bella.'

She gulped, aware of the questions he wanted to fire at her. ‘Hello, Gabe.'

‘Now . . . what can I get you to drink, Gabe?' Liz intervened smoothly. ‘We're having a shiraz, but would you prefer beer?'

‘I would, thanks.'

‘FNQ Lager?'

‘That'd be great if you've got it.'

Liz hurried to the fridge to retrieve a stubby, while the two men and Bella stood in the brightly lit homestead kitchen, unmoving, like figures in a pageant.

The men were so tense they reminded Bella of contesting young bulls, eyeing each other off and she tried to think of something to say –
anything
to break the ice – but her brain was in lock-down.

‘Bella, can you drain the spaghetti?'

Once again Liz saved the moment.

‘Sure.' Bella sprang to life, rushing over to the stove, grabbing the steaming pot and the colander.

‘You should probably try this beer while you're here,' Liz told Anton as she handed Gabe a stubby in a neoprene holder. ‘I'm told it's brewed locally in Cairns.'

‘Yeah,' added Gabe. ‘At the Blue Sky Brewery.'

‘I will definitely try it then.'

‘Okay,' chimed in Bella. ‘Pasta's ready. Take a seat everyone.' No point in standing around making light conversation tonight.

They sat at the long rectangular table that had graced the Mullinjim kitchen for three generations. Liz and Gabe on one side, Bella and Anton on the other. Bella would have preferred not to sit opposite Gabe, but she had little choice, and as she passed around the salad bowl, she felt ill with tension.

She couldn't explain any of this stuff to Gabe, but she could feel the full brunt of his disappointment and silent fury.

‘Anton's father keeps bees,' she said, desperate to open the conversation with something safe. ‘Monsieur Bazile makes the most divine lavender honey.'

‘Oh, I
love
lavender honey,' enthused Liz.

Anton nodded. ‘I would have brought some with me, but it's not allowed.'

‘No, our customs and quarantine laws are very strict,' offered Gabe.

He was going to be civil. Bella could at least breathe again.

‘Is this your first trip to Australia?' Gabe asked politely.

‘It is,' said Anton, equally polite. ‘And I'm very impressed. Everything here is so big. Your farms, even your houses. It's quite amazing.'

‘Well, yes. One thing we have is plenty of space.'

‘But we don't have snow,' suggested Bella, trying to be tactful.

Anton smiled at her. ‘So you haven't lost your fondness for snow?'

She shook her head, although her life in France seemed almost unreal now, like something she'd watched in a movie.

‘You should have seen Bella,' Anton told the others. ‘She used to love to stand out in the street at night with her arms spread to the sky and with snowflakes glistening in her hair, while she watched the snow softly falling in the glow of the lamps.'

‘What a charming picture.' Gabe's voice was so cool and sharp it made Bella think of a scalpel cutting paper.

Anton turned to her. ‘I'm so pleased that your father's recovering. It must be a great relief. Who knows? You might even get back to France before the ski season finishes.'

She could only manage a weak smile in response and in the awkward silence that followed she could feel Gabe's grim gaze drilling into her.

Poor Anton must have noticed it, too. He looked embarrassed, clearly wondering if he'd said something wrong.

Wanting to rescue him, Bella said, ‘It'll be wonderful to have Dad back home here and settled in.'

‘So you're still planning to head back to France?' Gabe's question, fired at point-blank range, found its mark, dead centre in her chest.

For a moment she couldn't speak, could barely hang on to her fork. Whichever way she answered this, she would hurt one of these men, but she'd made a promise to Anton. She'd left her necklace with him, the necklace Gabe had given her –
yikes
.

Idiot
.

‘There are – um – all sorts of loose ends over there,' she told Gabe and she hoped Anton didn't mind being called a loose end.

‘There are bound to be loose ends when you have to leave a place in a hurry,' Liz agreed, as she skilfully twirled her fork into her spaghetti. ‘I've left my affairs in a dreadful state. My agent has been tearing his hair out.'

Bless you, Liz
. Bella pounced on this chance to redirect the conversation. ‘I hope it won't be difficult for you when you go back. There'll still be plenty of concert work, won't there? Or will you have to jostle with other musicians lining up to grab your gigs?'

A worried little smile flickered briefly over Liz's features, but then she gave a dismissive wave of her fine, long-fingered hand. ‘Oh, I'll be fine. After thirty-odd years, I've done the hard yards and I've earned my good reputation. I'll have more work offers than I can handle. Now, who's for seconds? Although I should warn you, we have dessert.'

Dessert was a reheated apricot crumble that Liz had unearthed from the depths of the freezer, but no one minded. In fact, the men seemed relieved to turn their attention to the business of eating. The meal was an ongoing ordeal for Bella, however, and she was very relieved when they got to the end.

Gabe declined Liz's offer of coffee, making excuses about an early start in the morning.

‘Bella, can you see Gabe to the door, while I make a start on the coffee?' asked Liz. ‘Anton, why don't you make yourself comfortable in the lounge room? I'll bring the coffee in there.'

Bella knew she should be grateful for her aunt's management of this final awkward moment. Of course, she needed to speak to Gabe alone, to try to explain Anton's unexpected arrival. But given their rocky history and the fragility of their recent truce, appeasing Gabe tonight would be only slightly less challenging than swimming in a crocodile-infested creek.

‘Let me help to clear the table,' offered Anton.

‘Oh, aren't you well trained? Thank you, that would be lovely.' Liz beamed at Anton, dropped a quick goodbye kiss on Gabe's cheek and, sent Bella a significant look that seemed to say:
Scoot.

Bella scooted, with Gabe at her heels.

At the front door, Gabe said, ‘Walk with me to the truck.'

It was an order, curt and commanding, and Bella knew she had no choice but to obey. Her tension zoomed off the charts as they continued in silence across the front yard, lit first by lights from the verandah and then, more faintly, by moonlight.

Gabe's truck was in dark shadows by the bougainvillea hedge, so Bella could barely see him when he finally stopped.

From the trees near the creek, a lone curlew let out its mournful shriek. She shivered.

‘Gabe, I'm so sorry,' she said, wanting to jump in first. ‘I don't know what to say. I had no idea Anton was coming here. I thought––'

‘No, Bella, you
didn't
think. That's your problem.'

‘Excuse me?'

‘You always act first and think later.'

To her shame, she knew this was true – so terribly, annoyingly true – her recent email to Anton being a prime example.

‘To be honest,' Gabe went on. ‘I'm not interested in anything you have to say until you've thought hard and long.'

‘If this is about Anton––'

‘Of course it's about bloody Anton.' Gabe sounded tired as if he found this conversation tedious. ‘You need to sort yourself out, Bella. Work out what you really want. Which guy you want to fool around with. What you want to do with your life. If you're staying here or going back to France.'

‘But, I––'

‘You've never been sure what you want.'

Bella choked on a shocked gasp. This wasn't true. It was unfair. She'd wanted Gabe all along and he'd rejected her.

Gabe was at the side of the truck, reaching for the door handle.

‘You could at least let me try to explain.'

‘You're not ready to explain.'

She
was
ready. Of course she was. She was ready to tell Gabe that she wanted him and only him. He was all she'd ever wanted. Meeting Anton had been a mere distraction, a mistake. Her plan to go back to France had been another mistake.

But he wouldn't believe her. How could she expect him to believe anything she said now, when he'd walked into the kitchen, just a few short hours after their passionate roadside kiss and found her in Anton's arms?

‘Sort yourself out,' Gabe ordered harshly, and before she could respond, he swung into the truck, slammed the door and gunned the motor.

Bella waited till her eyes were quite dry before she came back into the house, where she found Liz at the kitchen sink up to her elbows in suds and hot water.

‘I thought you'd be in the lounge room,' she said. ‘But I just checked in there and it's empty. Where's Anton?'

‘The poor man was dead on his feet. Jetlag. He tried to help in the kitchen, but I could see he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He'd hit the wall. You know how it is.'

‘You mean he's already in bed?'

Liz nodded. ‘I wouldn't be surprised if he's not asleep or soon will be. It's understandable, Bella. The poor man's flown straight from Paris to Sydney to Townsville and then jumped onto that bloody bus. He's only had catnaps for the past two days. It's a wonder he didn't fall into the apricot crumble.'

‘I guess.' A cool breeze of relief washed over Bella. ‘I'll try not wake him when I go in.'

‘I made up the spare bed in the sewing room,' Liz went on matter-of-factly. ‘Anton will be more comfortable in there. It's air-conditioned.'

The spare bed?
Bella stared at her aunt, too surprised, momentarily, to speak.

Liz concentrated on the pot she was scrubbing. ‘The poor fellow will have a good night's sleep in the AC. He needs it. I'm sure he's finding this heat far more oppressive than he'll admit.'

‘That's – that's probably true. It's very thoughtful of you, Liz.' As Bella reached for a tea towel, she was weak-kneed with relief and inordinately grateful to her sensitive aunt who'd probably guessed how anxious she'd been about sharing her bed with Anton.

She couldn't relax though, not with Gabe's caustic attack still ringing in her ears. Even though she'd expected his anger, his fierce accusations had cut her deeply. Was she really such a mess?

He was looking at her from the outside, of course. He had no idea how she really felt about him, no idea of the role he'd played in just about every decision she'd ever made.

‘You look done in,' Liz said. ‘Just remember you spent the day burning fire breaks.'

‘Yeah, I am pretty tired.' Her body wanted to crash, but her mind was in turmoil. She'd been through an emotional wringer this evening.

‘Go to bed.' Liz took the tea towel from her. ‘I'll finish drying these. You'll have to play tour guide in the morning. Anton's keen to see over the property.'

‘Okay, thanks.' Bella kissed her aunt's cheek. ‘You're the best. You know that, don't you?'

Liz laughed.

‘And thanks for dinner.'

‘My pleasure. It was a memorable evening.'

A little too memorable.
Bella hoped she'd be able to sleep.

You've never been sure what you want
.

Gabe's hurtful insult rolled around and around in Bella's head as she lay, staring into the darkness where the ceiling-fan slowly circled.

Surely he wasn't still harking back to the stupid night at the ball? He must have known she'd moved on since then.

Of course she'd always been sure. Even when she'd dated other guys it had mainly been a ploy to keep her parents from getting too anxious about her extremely close friendship with the boy next door. It wasn't that her parents hadn't liked Gabe – on the contrary, they liked him very much – but they were concerned because he was so . . .
available
 . . .

Bella had scoffed at this. But her mother had always been a champion of the water-dripping-on-stone technique, and her repeated concerns must have sunk in to some extent. There
had
been an ambivalent moment, Bella remembered now with some discomfort – and no doubt Gabe remembered it, too – a moment during their happy time in Townsville, when questions had percolated to the surface.

They'd been in bed, which wasn't surprising, and Bella had asked Gabe how his parents met.

‘My parents?'

She was lying on her side, Gabe was on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his hands stacked beneath his head. She was admiring his muscular arms and his strong, attractive profile, when she noticed his frown.

‘Do we have to talk about my parents?' he asked.

‘I was just curious. Do you know how they met?'

‘At a dance, I think. Story I heard was Dad went with one girl and came home with another. My mother.'

‘She must have swept him off his feet.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Mine met on a muster. Mum's brother, my Uncle Jim, came over to Mullinjim to help Dad out. Mum was home on holidays, so she came, too.'

This time Gabe smiled.

‘What's so funny?'

‘I'm picturing Peter and Virginia exchanging heated and mean­ingful glances over the backs of a mob of cattle.'

‘We've done that.'

‘We have indeed.' He was smiling as he rolled over to kiss her.

‘But we hadn't just met,' Bella said.

Gabe frowned again. ‘Where's this going, Bella?'

‘I've just been thinking about how other couples meet – normal people.'

‘Aren't we normal people?'

She ignored this. ‘They meet walking their dogs in the park or accidentally spilling a drink on each other at a party or on a blind date.'

‘You've been watching too many movies.'

This was probably true. ‘But are people going to tell us we're . . . foolish?'

By now, Gabe was up on one elbow, staring at her, looking worried. ‘Are you having second thoughts?'

‘No. Not really.'

His grey eyes darkened. ‘You want to back out of this already?'

‘No.' The thought horrified Bella. ‘No, Gabe, not at all.'

To prove it she'd kissed him, rolling on top of him and smiling down into his gorgeous eyes. She had no doubts whatsoever.

And yet, annoyingly in a dark and musty corner of her mind, a silent question had lurked.

Was her mother right? Was it risky, just too easy, to fall for the boy next door?

It wasn't as if she and Gabe had lived in the city where there were thousands of potential partners to choose from. Their isolation and proximity must have been major factors in the attraction stakes.

Gabe had always
been
there.

Much later, after she'd left for overseas, she'd been aware of the strange bubble she'd lived in, almost believing that Mullinjim, North Queensland, boarding school and university had been enough . . .

‘But it
is
enough.'

Bella hadn't meant to say this out loud and she was shocked when her voice broke the silence of the hot, still night.

But it was true. Now that she'd been to the other side of the world, she knew for sure that the life here
was
enough. She'd loved every minute of her travels and she'd had a shed-load of new experiences, but now that she was back she knew, unequivocally, she could happily stay in North Queensland forever . . .

If Gabe was with her.

Get yourself sorted.

She winced, remembering the scorn in his voice. How could she convince him that she'd made her choice – that she'd actually made it years ago?

With a groan she rolled over, staring at the wall.

Shouldn't I be thinking about Anton?

Poor Anton. He was such a nice guy, a
really
nice guy, and he'd spent a whole stack of money travelling all this way to see her and she liked him. She did.

But today when Gabe kissed her so comprehensively he hadn't just dazzled her senses, he'd reclaimed her emotions. She'd willingly delivered her heart back into his hands.

So it probably wasn't surprising that she'd lost her enthusiasm for kissing Anton. She didn't think she could dredge up interest in kissing any other man ever again.

Pretty crazy given that Gabe was furious with her and that he'd more or less told her to get the hell out of his life. Again.

Tomorrow she would try extra hard to be super nice to Anton.