Moonlight Plains (7 page)

Townsville, 2013

Kitty was overjoyed when the firm footsteps in the nursing home corridor proved to be her grandson’s. Luke came striding into her room, greeting her with a broad grin, and as he leaned down to kiss her he brought a hint of the fresh and sun-drenched outdoors, a scent that she’d missed terribly since she’d moved to the home.

‘How wonderful to see you, Luke.’

What a handsome fellow he was, so tall and strapping and golden. Such a nice style of young man, with his blue and white–striped shirt tucked into surprisingly respectable blue jeans.

Kitty knew she wasn’t supposed to have a favourite grandchild – of course, she loved all eleven of them, and she didn’t have a favourite, really. But from an early age this sunny-natured boy had stolen a good-sized chunk of her heart.

‘How are you, Gran?’ he asked as he pulled a chair closer to her bed.

Feeble
was the word that first sprang to Kitty’s mind. She felt especially frail now beside Luke’s athletic and vibrant youthfulness, but she was sure he didn’t need to hear the dreary truth.

‘I’m not bad for an old girl.’ She smiled at him. ‘And what brings you to Townsville?’

‘I came to collect some gear – some trusses I ordered and cyclone bolts.’

‘For the homestead?’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t they have what you need in the Charters Towers hardware store?’

Luke shrugged and looked momentarily caught out. ‘There’s more choice in the stores here.’

Kitty was too pleased to see him to quibble. ‘So how’s everything coming along? Are you happy with your progress?’

His smile tilted. ‘It’s steady, steady, I guess. But it’s a big job.’ A fleeting shadow flickered in his clear green eyes.

‘It’s certainly a big job to tackle on your own,’ Kitty agreed.

She felt a measure of responsibility regarding this project, as she’d been the prime mover in starting the restoration. Some folk might suggest she’d been manipulative, but Luke had been between building jobs and was looking for a venture that would hone his newly acquired skills, and she’d discovered a strong desire to see the homestead renovated before it ended up as part of her estate.

Luke had been dubious, though, when she’d first raised the subject.

‘Do you reckon it’s worth doing up?’ he’d asked. ‘If you’re planning to sell, most cattlemen are more interested in the land. They’d live in a tin shed if the land was good.’

‘Their wives might have something to say about that,’ Kitty had promptly responded. ‘And I just don’t like the idea of passing on a house in such a dilapidated state. I know your grandfather would have hated to see the place like it is now. He took such pride in it.’

‘That’s true,’ Luke had admitted solemnly.

Kitty had known the mention of her husband would do the trick. Luke had always been especially close to his grandfather. As a little boy he’d loved to follow him around his workshop. But she’d felt a little guilty, too.

‘You’ll make sure you get help if you need it, won’t you, Luke?’ she said now.

‘Yes, Gran, don’t fret. I’ll get there.’ His big brown hand covered hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘By the way, I brought you something.’ Undoing the button-down flap, he reached into his shirt pocket. ‘I found this when I was lifting a few floorboards.’

In the centre of his palm lay a silver coin. ‘It’s American. A dollar.’

‘Oh, my heavens.’ Kitty’s heart took a fearful leap that sent her sinking dizzily against her pillows. She had to close her eyes and take a steadying breath.

‘Gran, are you okay?’

The dizziness passed, thank goodness, and she managed to smile again to allay Luke’s fears. ‘Sorry, darling. Just one of my silly little flutters.’ She shot a nervous glance at the coin he held.

It couldn’t be, surely . . .

‘Here.’ Luke pressed the dollar into her thin, withered palm. ‘You take it, so you can see it properly.’

The coin was still warm from his touch, but Kitty felt a distinct chill as she saw the American eagle on one side and then turned it over to find the shining head of Liberty on the other.

After all this time . . .

‘It says
In God We Trust
,’ Luke told her, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. ‘And the year’s 1923. That makes it ninety years old. Same age as you.’

‘Yes,’ Kitty said softly.

There could be no doubt then . . .

Against her will, she was remembering . . .

She was back in the past . . . at Bobby Kowalski’s bedside . . . seeing Bobby’s face on the day he showed her this very coin, his eyes vivid blue against the deathly pallor of his skin.

‘I suppose it must have come from one of those American airmen,’ Luke said, oblivious to her distress. ‘From during the war.’

‘Yes, I think it must have.’ Kitty’s voice was faint, while her heart took off again at a dangerous gallop. ‘How – how on earth did you find it?’

‘It was the weirdest thing. I just saw it perched on a support beam under the floor. It was covered in dust and I almost knocked it flying with my jemmy. At first I wasn’t even going to pick it up, but then curiosity got the better of me.’

‘I wonder how it ended up on a beam.’

‘Must have fallen through a crack in the floorboards, I guess.’

Yes, it’s the only explanation.

‘I can’t believe it’s been there all this time.’ Kitty was pleased her voice was steadier now. ‘More than seventy years.’

‘Yeah, I know. It blows my mind.’ Luke was grinning happily, proud of his discovery. ‘You met those American pilots, didn’t you?’

‘I did, yes.’ The memories were rushing back, roaring towards Kitty like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. ‘I – I knew them briefly.’

‘That’s what I thought, so I wanted
you
to have the dollar.’

‘That’s very thoughtful, dear.’

Unfortunately, Kitty wasn’t sure she wanted the coin. For decades, she’d worked hard to keep the memories of that tumultuous time buried. For the sake of her sanity . . . and for the sake of her marriage . . . .

Now she had an uncanny presentiment that this was just the start, the pulled thread that might dangerously unravel everything . . .

Her past might catch up with her after all.

Of course, there’d always been a risk when she asked Luke to restore the homestead that questions about the war might be raised, but she’d been confident that her grandson’s eyes were on the future, not the past. Now Kitty was extremely grateful that Luke showed no inclination to ply her with questions about the Americans.

‘So, tell me,’ she said briskly, as she set the dollar on the dresser beside her, ‘I want to hear all about that commemorative ball you went to in Charters Towers.’

Luke’s cheerful face was pulled into a dismissive scowl. ‘Not much to tell.’

‘Does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?’

‘It was okay,’ he said, without enthusiasm.

How very disappointing. Kitty had been pinning foolish hopes . . . and yet Luke was as unforthcoming as Sally Piper had been.

When Sally had returned the pink dress, Kitty had asked her about the ball, but while Sally had been politely complimentary about the band music and the efforts of the ball’s committee, she apparently couldn’t remember whether she’d met Luke.

It was all very frustrating. Kitty knew she was probably pouting, but that was too bad.

‘I was hoping you’d have a lovely time,’ she told Luke sadly. ‘Actually, it was silly of me, I suppose, but I was nursing a hope that you might meet a young friend of mine. A lovely young woman who comes here to visit her grandmother.’

Luke’s eyes narrowed warily. ‘Someone from Townsville?’

‘Yes. I even lent her a dress. I know that sounds hard to believe, but it was a genuine relic from the 1940s.Your mother dug it out for me and washed it and ironed it beautifully. It was in surprisingly good condition.’

‘What’s the girl’s name?’ Luke asked, so cautiously he might have been a detective interviewing a murder suspect.

‘Sally. Sally Piper.’

Kitty had never thought of her grandson as mulish, so she was surprised to see the sudden hardness in his face and the way his jaw jutted with deliberate obstinacy. He was still scowling as he sat straighter in his chair and looked away to a corner of the room. ‘I think I might have met her. Briefly.’

Kitty’s spirits sank further. There could only be two ways to read this. If Luke had met Sally, the meeting had either not gone well, or there’d been no spark at all. Whichever was correct, the result was disappointing.

But Kitty had never been one to give up easily, and she couldn’t resist putting in a good word for Sally now. ‘I’m sure you’d remember Sally if you’d met her, Luke. She’s such a lovely girl, and so kind to her grandmother. She comes in here at least once a week, sometimes more often, and she always brings her dog with her. We all love –’

She was interrupted by raised voices outside.

It was noisy old Bill Gooden from down the hall calling out in his great booming voice, ‘Here she comes! Here comes our dog!’

Kitty couldn’t have been more delighted. ‘Well, can you believe it? I mention Sally and her dog and that’s probably them now.’ She waved her hand, hurrying Luke. ‘Quickly, scoot out there and ask her to come in. Otherwise we won’t see her till she’s finished reading to Dulcie and that can take ages. You might be gone by then.’

‘Gran, I don’t think –’

‘Oh, go on, Luke. Don’t be such a spoilsport.’

With evident reluctance, her grandson rose, but instead of obeying her, he stood looking down at her with his hands resting lightly on his lean hips, a canny knowingness gleaming in his eyes.

‘You wouldn’t be trying to play matchmaker, would you, Gran?’

Stifling a gasp, Kitty managed, miraculously, to keep a straight face. ‘Heavens no, Luke. Give me some credit. I know better than to pull something like that.’

He paused for a longer moment, apparently assessing her answer, and somehow Kitty managed not to squirm.

‘Let me just warn you, dearest grandmother: don’t bother.’ He said this quietly but with surprising firmness. ‘I’m quite capable of finding my own girlfriends, thank you.’

Sally came to a shocked halt when a tall, masculine figure stepped into the hallway, almost blocking her path.

‘Luke? What – what are you doing here?’

‘Visiting my grandmother.’

‘Oh, yes, of course – Kitty Mathieson.’ Sally felt ridiculously flustered and breathless. She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘She – Kitty mentioned you. Sorry. I got such a surprise to see you. I’m used to frail old men with walking frames.’

Luke nodded without smiling.

‘It – it’s such a coincidence that Kitty’s your grandmother.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ He stood tall, with his hands in his jeans pockets, the stance making his shoulders look broader than ever.

Awkwardness reigned as they eyed each other.

It was so weird seeing him in this atmosphere; he looked even more attractive than Sally had remembered.

‘How are you, Sally?’ he asked at last, quietly and without warmth.

‘I – I’m fine, thanks.’ It was a lame thing to say, but Sally couldn’t get her brain into gear.

Then Jess padded forward, tail wagging madly, and she looked up at Luke with eager hazel eyes, as if she’d found her new best friend.

‘Hello there, old blue dog.’ His voice was friendly enough now.

‘She didn’t have a name when I got her, so I called her Jess. She just looked like a Jess, like a farm girl.’

‘Hi, Jess.’ Luke smiled down at the dog, but he made no attempt to pat her and very quickly he shifted his gaze back to Sally. ‘Gran’s just been telling me about your dog, but I imagined something cute and silky.’

‘Like a handbag?’

He almost smiled. ‘Yeah, I guess. I certainly didn’t expect a cattle dog.’

‘I know. I didn’t actually plan to get such an outdoor breed, not when I live in a flat, but Jess’s very elderly. A happy retiree. I don’t think she minds that she can’t chase cattle any more.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. She’d prefer sleeping in the sun.’

‘Exactly.’ It was much easier to talk about her dog. ‘I found her at the pound and she had such sad eyes, I couldn’t resist her. She was on death row, only a few days away from being put down.’

‘She’s a very lucky dog then.’

Luke gave Jess an ear scratch, which she loved, and then he looked about him, watching a wizened old man shuffle down the long linoleum corridor. He glanced at the open doorways that offered glimpses of frail old men and women in their beds. ‘I’m surprised they let you bring a dog in here.’

‘I was surprised, too. But the staff encouraged me, actually, and everyone here seems to welcome Jess with open arms. They all spoil her. Kitty, your grandmother, loves her.’

‘Yes, so she told me.’ Luke gave a stiff nod to the nearby doorway. ‘Speaking of Kitty, she sent me out here to ambush you.’

‘Oh?’ Sally wondered how Luke felt about that.

‘Apparently, she’s very keen for us to meet,’ he said, lowering his voice, but still managing to inject a note of sarcasm.

‘I see.’ Sally fiddled with the leather loop on Jess’s lead. ‘So you didn’t set her straight and tell her we’ve already met?’

Luke looked annoyed by her question. ‘No, not really, and I take it you haven’t either.’

‘No.’ Sally had been worried that Kitty would somehow find out the truth that she’d jumped into bed with her grandson and had a lovely time, and then told him thanks, but no thanks.

How could she explain such wanton behaviour to a ninety-year-old? She couldn’t properly explain it to herself. It didn’t help that she kept remembering the night she’d spent with Luke.

Over the past fortnight, she’d remembered it rather too often, reliving the surprising excitement and pleasure of being with a sexy new man, and remembering how at ease and happy he’d made her feel. So different from the way she and Josh had been at first.

Starting out so young, they’d taken years to discover the best ways to please each other, whereas Luke had either amazing instincts or loads of experience. From the moment their lips met, every kiss, every touch, every move had been incredibly right. Blissful . . .

But beyond all that . . . she’d been thinking about the homestead too, and how much she would have enjoyed writing its story. Projects that captured her imagination had been thin on the ground lately and since Josh’s death, she’d been struggling with her career – along with every other aspect of her life.

More than once, she’d wished that she hadn’t been quite so hasty in telling Luke they had no future.

But those moments of regret had been balanced by even bleaker moments when her grief for Josh had reclaimed her, holding her down in its dark, relentless grip. On those days she’d known that she’d done the right thing; she simply wasn’t ready for another relationship.

‘So,’ Luke said, frowning as he watched her, ‘do you have time to see Gran now?’ He managed to sound as if he couldn’t care less about her answer.

A hunched old lady shuffled past them, walking with a wheeler. ‘Hello, Sally!’

Sally nodded to her. ‘Hello, Alice. How are you today?’

‘Hunky-dory,’ the old woman replied with a twinkling smile before she moved on.

Sally turned back to Luke, who was standing waiting, perfectly still and patient, his hands in his pockets, his eyes watchful but unfriendly: the complete antithesis of the lovely, warm guy she’d met at the ball.

‘I’d be happy to see Kitty, Luke, but I don’t want to cause any more awkwardness.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll make excuses for you then, shall I?’

It was goodbye. Luke Fairburn wasn’t going to be messed around again.

And that was fair enough. Sally knew this dismissal was what she deserved. More than that, it was sensible. She just wished she didn’t feel quite so bad about it.

‘Then again,’ he said, ‘you’d make an old lady very happy if you came in now. You shouldn’t let what’s happened between us interfere in your friendship with Kitty.’

‘No, no . . . of course not.’

‘Your visits mean a lot to her, Sally.’ His voice was less gruff, almost conciliatory; the light in his eyes a shade warmer.

Sally was surprised by the change, but it was all the encouragement she needed. Really, there was no question, was there? Of course she would go in to see Kitty, but nerves knotted her stomach as she and Luke went in together.

‘Oh, lovely!’ Kitty seemed excited to see them. ‘So, do you remember Luke now, Sally?’

Sally prayed that she wasn’t blushing. ‘Yes, of course.’

She shot a quick glance towards Luke, but his expression was bland, giving nothing away.

‘Luke, there are dog biscuits in the drawer here.’ Kitty tapped the dresser with a bony finger.

Clearly pleased to have a task, Luke found the biscuits, fed one to Jess and spent a few moments engaged in small talk with the dog, giving her another ear scruff. Then, as if feeling a need to orchestrate the scene, he picked up a coin from the dresser and held it out to Sally.

‘I brought this to show Gran,’ he said. ‘I found it out at the homestead I’m renovating.’

‘Is it American?’ Sally turned it over. ‘Wow, yes, a dollar from 1923. What a find!’

To Sally’s surprise, Kitty seemed unhappy and retreated into her pillows.

‘There were American pilots at the homestead during the war years,’ Luke said, his eyes warning Sally not to give their game away.

‘But that’s not nearly as interesting as the fact that Luke’s restoring the homestead to its former glory,’ interposed Kitty.

‘How fabulous.’ Sally hoped she sounded suitably surprised. ‘I love old houses.’ Still fingering the coin, she said, ‘And an old place like that is bound to have so many stories.’

‘Except there’s not much point in digging up the past,’ Kitty responded dourly. ‘I’m more interested in the future, and seeing the homestead looking its best again.’

‘Well, yes, that’s important too.’ Sally found herself walking a diplomatic line. ‘And I’m sure Luke will do a great job.’ She dropped her gaze. If she wasn’t careful Kitty would catch her sneaking extra peeks at Luke.

Luckily, the coin fascinated her. The head of Liberty was beautiful, and she was intrigued to think it was so old. Ninety years.

‘The old stories
are
fascinating,’ she couldn’t help commenting as she handed the dollar back to Luke.

‘Gran was at Moonlight Plains during the war when the airmen crashed there.’ Luke tossed the coin a little way into the air and caught it.

‘Now
that
would make a great story.’ Sally was surprised that Luke didn’t glare at her for saying this. After all, he’d been quite definite he wanted her to drop her story ideas.

Kitty was shaking her head. ‘Don’t bother with the war, Sally. There were so many plane crashes in North Queensland back then. Two more won’t make much of a story. I’d rather see you write something about Luke’s renovations.’

This was getting tricky. Sally deliberately avoided eye contact with Luke.

‘Maybe you should come out and see the place some time,’ he said casually.

Zap!

Sally stared at him. It was quite possible she was gaping as flashes of shock zigzagged under her skin. His suggestion was so totally unexpected it caught her wrong-footed. She tried to cover her shock with a smile, but it was a very shaky attempt.

Kitty, on the other hand, was beaming. ‘What an excellent idea. You’d love Moonlight Plains, Sally. And you could take Jess. She’d love it out there too.’

A cautious glance in Luke’s direction showed that his face was deadpan.

‘Think about it, anyway,’ he said casually, with the hint of a shrug.

It was clear he was opening a door, a very surprising but enticing door . . . Sally couldn’t be sure if he was just being friendly or if he’d changed his mind about the story. Or was there more to it, some other clue she hadn’t picked up?

‘I’ll certainly give it some thought,’ she said.

Luke was watching her carefully now, as carefully as she was watching him, and she wondered what sort of messages their searching glances were sending to his inquisitive grandmother.

‘You must take Luke’s phone number,’ Kitty enthused. ‘Luke, write it down for her.’

‘No need. Here’s my phone.’ Sally whipped it from her shoulder bag and handed it to Luke, making only the briefest eye contact.

It was impossible to read his thoughts as he keyed in his number, but she knew it was likely that this whole exercise was nothing more than a charade to keep his grandmother off his back.

One thing was certain – she wouldn’t return to Moonlight Plains unless she and Luke laid down some crystal-clear ground rules.

Kitty lay with her eyes closed. Sally had left to visit her grandmother in the secure wing and Luke had said his goodbyes, and Kitty was exhausted.

She’d put far too much energy into willing those two young people together, but now that she’d achieved her long-cherished hope, she was afraid it might backfire on her. Sally seemed as interested in the war story as she did in Luke’s restoration, and the girl’s curiosity plus her journalist’s instincts could stir things up . . . things that Kitty wanted to leave buried and forgotten . . .

I’ll have to play my cards close to my chest . . .

As she at last drifted off to sleep, however, it wasn’t Luke and Sally who floated into her vision. It was Ed . . . and Bobby Kowalski . . .