The House On Burra Burra Lane (17 page)

‘And the party,’ added Jane with a giggle.

‘The party?’ Ethan laughed. He took a shorter length of rope and lowered himself until he was lying on his side. He thrust his arm into the mud beneath Ruby. ‘What party is Ruby going to when she gets out of the mud?’

‘The market party, with roast beef.’

‘Tell me that story again, I’ve forgotten it.’ He tunnelled into the mud. ‘Do as I do,’ he told Sammy. ‘Dig down and try to meet my hand.’

The kids chanted the rhyme, word perfect.

Sammy stretched out beside Ruby and reached beneath, feeling and scrabbling in the mud. ‘You’re very good at this,’ she said.

‘Rescuing?’ He pushed a laugh out. ‘I’ve had some practice.’ He sounded rueful.

‘No,’ Sammy said. ‘I meant you’re very good at settling everyone.’

Up to his shoulder in mud, he lifted his head to glance at her. ‘The kids are fine.’

‘Me,’ she insisted, looking directly at him. ‘You did it for me, too.’

The planes of his face relaxed. A moment of sadness, not even a second, and it was gone.

‘Because of the awkwardness between us,’ Sammy said, her fingers digging through the heat of the mud. ‘Because of yesterday.’

His eyelids flickered, rapid blinks through the haze of sweat that rose from the animal’s heaving body. ‘And how do you feel?’ he asked.

She lowered her gaze and stared at Ruby’s mud splattered flesh. ‘Better, now that I’ve seen you,’ she admitted.

He hissed in a breath. ‘Good. I don’t want it otherwise. I didn’t expect … ’

She looked up, watched his face, waited.

‘There.’ He pushed into the mud, kicking his legs to force himself down. ‘I’ve got your fingers. Grab the rope.’

She pressed herself further into the mud, her shoulder sunk, her cheek on Ruby’s skin. She clamped her fingers around the rope.

The mud croaked like a bullfrog when Ethan pulled his arm free. He squelched his way around Ruby and came to Sammy’s side. He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t let go, if you can manage.’

‘I’ve got it.’

He dug into the thick mud with his hands, using them like a shovel. ‘Keep a hold of it. This is the first. We have to do this one more time before I pull the canvas straps through.’

‘I’ve got it. I won’t let go.’

He thrust his arm next to hers.

She felt his fingers. ‘That’s it. That’s me.’

‘I feel you.’

She glanced at his face as he took the rope from her fingers, and couldn’t breathe. He smelled warm and tender with energy and effort.

‘Let go now.’ His lifted his chin. ‘Let go, Sammy. I have it.’

She felt his hand, wet and warm around hers. She smiled. Didn’t want to let go.

He paused suddenly, and smiled back. ‘How do you feel about country life now?’

Despite the ache in her shoulders, the thickness in her throat that threatened to be the start of something terrible like wanting to cry, she laughed. ‘Never felt more at home. What’s next?’

‘Don’t cry,’ he warned, his voice low. ‘I haven’t got a joke for that.’

‘Not going to.’

She pulled her arm from the mud, crawled around Ethan and gathered the canvas strapping.

It was done. Ruby was calm from the drug, breathing easy and blinking at Ethan as he fastened the last of the canvas straps around her body to the metal hooks on the long rope. He’d handled everything in a straightforward manner, all the rescue gear, the hooks and claws; the animal, the children, and the woman.

He took the bottled water and carefully washed Ruby’s face.

Sammy sat in the shadow of all that awe-inspiring capability.

He rested back on his heels. ‘Let’s take a minute. Not something I do every day. Kinda whacked.’ He grinned, not looking in any way exhausted. Just covered in thick brown mud, which made him look even bigger and bolder than usual. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

There were so many questions in her head. If he was inclined to talk suddenly, in this extraordinary situation they found themselves in, she wanted answers. ‘What didn’t you expect?’

He pulled himself around to sit, legs askance in the quagmire, arms rested on his knees, and looked at her like he knew exactly what she meant. Like he had expected the question and was ready for it. As though a whole twenty minutes hadn’t passed in strenuous exertion and their conversation was taking place in the park while they sat on a bench and caught the sun.

‘I didn’t expect to feel so close to you, or to anyone again.’

Her heartbeat fluttered with hope. She didn’t want to be ostracised by him, but would step away after this if he didn’t want her by his side occasionally; if he couldn’t accept her friendship and her care of him.

She was walking through a tunnel and didn’t know what to expect at the end. Life would either let her be, or life would push her away one more time. She’d leave town, if she had to, but it would be the last time she ran from anything. If she did have to leave Swallow’s Fall, wherever she found herself, she’d root there. Would never let anything or anyone … oh, too hard a notion to absorb. She didn’t want to leave this place. She’d put down roots right here and she wanted to watch the seedlings of her new life break through the soil. And he felt close to her. That was good. A start-again opportunity for both of them.

‘Do I make you feel better?’ Happy, she meant, but was reluctant to voice it until she knew what footing they were on.

He nodded, smiled a little. ‘Better,’ he said. Then he bowed his head towards her, serious suddenly. ‘I wouldn’t have come to your place, not today, not tomorrow. I didn’t know how to … what to say. Except that I’m sorry about hurting you.’

‘You didn’t hurt me.’ His kiss had thrilled her, his hands on her had been exquisite pleasure. Rough, yes—but passionately so, as though he hadn’t been able to hold himself back from her.

He turned his hands, palms up. ‘These are big hands, Sammy. I can use them gently too, but I didn’t know how to tell you that. Didn’t think you’d want to hear.’

‘Of course I want to hear. Of course I would listen to you.’

He was her friend, and friends listened and cared. He deserved everything good, everything beautiful, and so did she. They could go forwards with their friendship and build on it and forget about the man-woman relationship. He’d made it better for both of them.

Gratefulness filled her chest. ‘I care about you, Ethan.’

The children chanted the nursery rhyme again, their voices carrying over the ridge and stirring the part of her soul that had wandered too far and got lost.

This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home.

Ethan had found her, and filled an empty space. He didn’t know it yet, but she’d try to tell him how grateful she was for his friendship.

This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none.

‘And you know that I care about you too, don’t you?’ he asked. The studious expression on his face was filled with kindness.

‘I know.’ He was a little solitary, and a bit unexpectedly wild but she could make him laugh and lighten him up while she was around him. Share him with everyone, be a part of him.

The young voices rose with excitement.

He reached out, ran his hand over her head, gently brushing her hair back.

She faltered in her thoughts as soon as he touched her. She was asking too much, wanted it earnestly and a little crazily. She had her heart on her sleeve again.

‘And we’re okay now,’ he said. ‘Friends again. Yes?’

No. Impossible. She was in love with him.

And this little piggy cried all the way home.

S
ammy yanked the handbrake, switched the engine off and sat in the car a moment, scanning Main Street and the walkway. Grandy wasn’t in his seat today, but Julia was standing outside Kookaburra’s with a group of young friends.

Friends
. The pig story had lasted the week. She’d answered questions and taken handshakes for her involvement in the rescue and its happy outcome. Ethan had called her that night. Laughing as he asked if she’d got the mud off.

Friends again.

Then he’d got serious. Told her to keep that paperwork in a safe place. Reminded her he wanted to know straight away if Oliver contacted her. She’d betrayed her promise to him by calling Oliver, but after speaking to her mother again and hearing the anxiety in Verity’s voice, there’d been no choice.

There was no laughter or tone of friendship in her telephone call to Oliver.

‘So, the stray has returned to the land of the living,’ Oliver had said when she announced herself.

His voice brought a shiver down her spine and she didn’t beat around the bush. ‘Can you speak for a minute?’

‘For you, honey, I’m always available. When are you coming home?’

‘I want you to stop calling Verity. Stop threatening her.’

‘And what could I possibly be threatening her with? Oh—that’s right.’ He paused. ‘She owes me money; quite a lot, actually.’

‘I’ll pay you back the money, but it will have to be a little at a time. I haven’t got that amount floating around.’

‘You could have more, much more.’

‘No thanks.’

He paused again. ‘I have to say, Samantha, I’m disappointed in you over this. How dare you think I’d steal from my clients?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Verity told me you’d taken some of my business documents. Stole them, I suppose some would say—although I think you might have just grabbed them by mistake when you were picking up your bits and pieces from my apartment. Am I right?’

‘All I know is that my mother took money off you thinking it was a gift, and now you’re pressuring her about returning it.’

‘Verity asked me for the money. She said you weren’t helping her and she’d pay me back once you came to your senses.’

Lying son of a …

‘It would be hard for me, Samantha, if I had to report this to the police, but those were the only copies I had, and I doubt my clients would like to hear that my fiancée withheld important business information from me. It would look a bit odd, don’t you think, honey? I’d hate to see your lovely face in a mug shot.’

‘If you want to call the police, go ahead. I don’t know what paperwork they’d find, except bills.’
Mistake
. Big mistake calling him. He’d stretch this out to his advantage. All she’d done was push him into further action. She kept her tone even. ‘And don’t call me ‘honey’. I’m your ex-fiancée, remember? And I was only your fiancée for a few hours. Our engagement wasn’t something I helped organise.’ She’d changed her mobile number before leaving Sydney, and the house landline she was calling from was listed as a private number, so he wouldn’t have that. She hoped to God Verity hadn’t given him her address. If he turned up in town, she’d have some explaining to do. Not only to the townspeople who didn’t know anything about her other life, but also to Ethan.

‘Let’s get this over with, Oliver. I can pay you back a little each month.’ She named an amount that was over half her income. Her stomach knotted. She’d be living on eggs and fresh air and there was no way she could continue with the renovations.

‘Meet me at my office and bring the paperwork, Samantha. We can discuss our relationship issues over lunch. Or will I need to call on Verity and let her do the persuading?’

‘You threaten either of us, and I’ll be the one going to the police.’

He laughed. ‘Think about it—what can you do with that paperwork? It’s nothing but a business list. You’re getting confused about this issue, and about my intent. You and your mother need help, and I’m here to support you both. Come back to the city now—from wherever the hell you are.’

‘I’m suddenly tired of this conversation. Stop threatening my mother or I’ll put a restraining order on you.’

‘You’re not being very smart, Samantha, and
I’m
getting a little tired of your continued ignorance.’

‘Well if I’m not that smart, I imagine I’ll get confused when the police start asking me questions about our relationship. About why I ended our engagement four hours after you’d forced the ring on my finger.’

‘The events of that evening were nothing more than a lover’s tiff, a silly quarrel between adults.’

‘It was one hell of a quarrel, Oliver. You almost broke my arm.’

‘You’ve got something I want back, and you’d better understand right now that I’ll get it.’ The light manipulative edge of his tone hardened. ‘Whatever it takes.’

Laughter rang down Main Street, the high-pitched sounds bringing Sammy back to the moment. She shuddered, removed the memory of the telephone call from her mind and glanced at Julia’s group of friends as two young men started pushing and shoving each other, play-fighting and showing off for the girls around them.

Sammy dropped her keys into her shoulder bag and made her way up the stairs, skirting the group, heading straight for the hardware store, eyes downcast.

It was packed inside with three other people, the aroma of dusty boxes and machine oil sitting in the air. She took four packets of sandpaper to the counter, picked up two small paintbrushes and got her money ready for young Mr Morelly, her thoughts back with Ethan as she waited for her turn to pay.

What Ethan didn’t know, he’d probably guessed. She hadn’t told him every detail about that evening with Oliver, but Ethan didn’t have a studious, penetrating gaze for nothing. There was a sharp brain in his head, no matter how quietly he used his intelligence.

Her heart beat faster as she vacillated between love for him and worry about everything else. He’d fixed the shed walls and put up shelving this last week, sauntering around with his contained detachment, with none of the intimacy he’d shown when they were stuck together in the mud.

By Wednesday, she hadn’t been able to stand it and had made appointments with Mary to hold more art classes in the late afternoons so she wouldn’t have to look at Ethan and love him.

‘Hey, Sammy,’ young Mr Morelly said, taking her money and putting her purchases into a brown paper bag. ‘I got the paint samples. Maybe you could come on in tomorrow and we’ll sit down and talk.’ He winked, and shuffled something in his mouth, possibly his dentures.