The House On Burra Burra Lane (31 page)

‘That’s the one. Josh will make a start on the design next week.’

‘I will?’

‘Okay then. Deal.’ Mary stepped back, pointing a finger at Josh. ‘You just make sure you show me your designs, and don’t go starting on anything I haven’t approved.’

‘I will,’ Josh said. ‘I won’t.’

‘Next,’ Ethan said. ‘I’m expanding my business. Horses— first agistment and probably a riding school later. I’ll need stablehands. Any of your children want a before or after school job, tell them to find me. I’m looking for fourteen- to eighteen-year-olds; they can’t be young children. And there are a lot of mothers around town who are skilled, natural riders. If they want to do a trainee coach certificate in horse management, they get a job teaching.’

The crowd stilled.

‘Is that all?’ someone asked.

‘That’s it for now.’ Ethan turned, his coat tails swinging around his legs.

‘What about Burra Burra Lane?’ a man called out from inside the Bar & Grill. ‘I got a tenner down says she won’t stay. You gonna fix her place or not?’

Ethan swung back, his back broadening as his lungs filled. He raised his arm. ‘That’s enough.’

‘Just asking,’ the man said, and stepped back. Young Mr Morelly nudged him in the stomach to help him on his way.

‘Let’s get this straight,’ Ethan’s voice was a low burn and the evening air seemed to bristle with it. ‘Samantha Walker is part of our community. You’ve pulled her in to help the town and she’s done it. She’s got that house up and running by herself. She’s staying.’

Sammy released her breath; hadn’t realised she’d held it for so long.

‘Steady,’ Grandy said at her side. ‘It ain’t finished yet.’

‘You big lumbering cowboy.’

Everyone stared at Mrs Johnson as she stepped forwards. ‘Why would she want to stay now? Are you saying you’re the one to persuade her?’

Ethan turned. ‘What happens between me and Sammy is not out there for gossip or supposition.’

‘So where is it?’ Mrs J asked. ‘How are you going to make it work?’

‘If you don’t mind, Mrs Johnson, I’ll handle my relationships myself. In my own way, in my own time. I’ve got some things to think about before I start—’

‘Don’t come the raw prawn with me.’

Ethan blinked, his mouth drawn. ‘Mrs J,’ he said evenly, ‘what exactly is it you’re trying to say?’

Mrs Johnson took another step forwards. ‘I like what you’ve done so far, making a stand and all, and with the work you’re going to give our kids.’

‘And?’

‘Well, Ethan, you’re a fatherless, motherless boy … ’

Ethan lifted his hand. ‘My mother was a good woman. Don’t bring her into this.’

‘Yes, she was, and she was respected here.’

‘And helped by a lot of you. I know that and I thank you for it. Hope I’ve done at least some decent things towards addressing my appreciation.’

Mrs J shrugged that off. ‘There was no need for payback, Ethan, but it’s what you’ve always done anyway. I’m impressed by you this evening.’

‘But?’

Mrs J pinpointed Sammy with her finger, her gaze not budging from Ethan’s. ‘It’s time you got that woman into your life on a permanent basis. That’s what would make your mother happy, and that’s what I wanted to say.’

‘Well thank you again,’ Ethan said. ‘Perhaps that’s what I’m trying to do.’

‘Funny way of showing it.’

‘Damn it to hell! Is nothing sacred in this town?’ Ethan turned away, breathing deeply. ‘And there goes another two dollars.’

‘Is this getting out of hand?’ Sammy asked.

Grandy chuckled. ‘Not by my count.’

‘Alright,’ Ethan said, turning back to the crowd. ‘Here it is. Listen up good. Thomas Granger was a bad man, my brother Robert was a bad man. I did what I could, but it wasn’t enough … ’

‘Ethan.’ Mrs J put a hand out.

‘It wasn’t enough because nothing would have been enough to get Thomas Granger, my brother Robert or his girlfriend Carla back on the straight and narrow.
Nothing
. I married Carla because I felt sorry for her. She didn’t like me, never did. I didn’t love her, but I hoped to make her life a bit easier. It didn’t work. End of story.’

‘Then why are you suddenly doing all this? Expanding your business, taking on our kids.’

Ethan looked at Mrs Johnson as though she’d jumped off the moon with a rocket firing in each hand. ‘Because I’m going to marry Sammy and that’s what she’d want.’

Grandy took hold of Sammy’s hand. ‘Stay standing,’ he murmured.

‘Well that sounds fine. Well done, Ethan. Have you told her?’

Ethan swung around to face Sammy and Grandy. ‘You,’ he said, pointing a finger at Sammy. ‘Stay there. Don’t move.’

Sammy battened down every impulse to sink to the ground. There was no way she was leaving, and she was going to stay upright.

‘That’s the end of the bet then,’ the grumbler behind young Mr Morelly said. ‘Have to end the wager. Start on something else— since I got a tenner spare.’

Ethan flipped his coat over his hip, dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. ‘You want a bet on something? Here … ’ He moved to the noticeboard at the side of Kookaburra’s doors, people tripping over each other to get out of his way.

He stuck something to the board with a pin and stepped back. ‘One hundred dollars says Sammy Walker is my wife by the end of the year. Frank, I trust you’ll do the usual?’

‘I certainly will, Ethan. Be my pleasure.’

Sammy was so stiff that if she fell now she’d hit the ground like a plank of wood.

Ethan came down the steps and walked towards her. ‘You weren’t supposed to hear that last bit.’ He stopped in front of her.

She folded her arms in case they grabbed hold of him. ‘Well,’ she said, settling into a Mary Munroe stance. ‘I heard it. And I’d like an explanation please.’

‘You’ll get it.’

Her breath got trapped in her throat for a moment. ‘When?’ she managed.

Grandy stepped aside.

‘As you heard,’ Ethan said, ‘I’ve got some things to think through before I have a conversation with you about what I want from you.’

Something hot hit the back of Sammy’s eyes. Not tears; wonder.

‘Damn it, Sammy, don’t look at me like that! You’re costing me dollars.’

She swallowed.

‘It’s your eyes,’ he said, his voice hushed. ‘I love them and this is not the time to tell you that. Blink or something, would you?’

She pulled a deep breath, blinked rapidly. ‘What things have you got to say to me?’

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected the question. Then he leaned close. ‘I’ll be reminding you of everything we’ve felt and haven’t voiced. Every look we’ve shared, everything we’ve done together since that first day you came into my surgery. So be ready for it, because it’s heading your way.’

Sammy nodded. ‘Okay.’

He shifted his weight to his other hip and stared her in the eye. ‘You flew into my world and took my breath away.’

‘Did I?’

‘I’ve got a whole list of reasons why you should take me back.’ He aimed his hand at her, his index finger not exactly pointed, but the same intent. ‘And I’ve got an answer to every argument you make about it. Do you hear me?’

She nodded again.

‘I’m in love with you and I’ll be telling you why in my own time with my own words.’

Poetry. Nobody had ever written such wonderful stanzas.

‘And there’ll be actions to go with those words, and you’ll be still, quiet, and you will listen.’

‘Okay, I hear you.’ She was worth
this
much? Wow. She must be terrific.

‘I’m lost without you and I’m going to ring every bell in town until I get what I want. Sometime this year, Samantha Walker, you and I are getting married.’

Her name had never sounded so glorious.

The night stilled, the only sound in her head the chirping of crickets and the beat of her heart. Nobody moved outside the Bar & Grill.

‘Now get in the truck,’ Ethan said. ‘I’m taking you home.’ He turned, his coat tails flying as he strode down the darkened street; the lamplight puddled on the ground. He was flooded in moonlight.

‘Sexy stuff,’ Sammy murmured.

Grandy gave her a shove. ‘Now would be a good time to follow him.’

W
hen Sammy got into the truck he’d already started the engine, had the heater on and the headlights were showing the road home. ‘Are we talking now?’ she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

‘No.’ It wasn’t a curt response—he said it softly, but resolutely.

She moistened her mouth. ‘I’d like to speak—’

‘Not tonight,’ he interrupted. ‘Tomorrow. I’ve got a lot to say and I don’t want to get any of it wrong.’

Hadn’t he just said it all? She sat back and willed herself to patience.

When he pulled up at her house, she undid her seatbelt, unsure whether to speak again or not, then unable to stop herself. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For looking after my mother tonight.’ Nowhere near enough. She had thousands of words in her head. ‘And for looking after me.’

He glanced at her, caught her gaze. ‘Stay there.’ He got out of the truck, came around to her side, and opened her door. He lifted his chin and held out his arms. ‘Come on.’

She turned on her seat. Was he going to hold her now and tell her everything he felt for her? ‘Are we going to talk now?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m going to carry you. You haven’t got your shoes on, Sammy. This is a gravel path.’

Smugness and joy engulfed her. Her smile was so wide it instantly hurt her cheeks. Her wonderful hero wasn’t ready to talk about love, but he was lovingly concerned about her feet.

She put her hands to his shoulders. He lifted her swiftly and walked up the gravel path.

Desperate to lean her face against his shoulder, but knowing he needed time to think his thoughts through, she resisted.

He let her down at the door. ‘Tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. I’ll be here.’

‘Alright.’

‘Lock the door.’

‘I will.’ She never locked the door, but it made sense to do so tonight. Her mother was safe with Mr and Mrs Capper and Oliver wouldn’t come back to town in a hurry after the embarrassment he’d undergone in front of everyone, but since the evening had produced far more astonishing insights into people than she’d expected—it was best to lock herself in the house. Just in case.

‘Goodnight, Sammy.’

So studiously concerned about her wellbeing. ‘Goodnight, Ethan.’

He nodded, and turned for the truck.

In her bedroom, she went to the windows to close the drapes. His truck was winding its way down her driveway, and she paused to watch him go. She cocked her head to one side when the truck stopped by her mailbox. It backed up a little, and turned until it sat across the end of her driveway. The headlights went out, the engine cut out. It blocked anything…or anyone who tried to enter.

She stepped away from the window. How was she going to get any sleep?

Sammy yawned, and stretched beneath the warmth of her bedcovers. She’d spent the comfiest night ever after all, cuddled up in what she knew was the point where her new life began. Her real life—the one she’d been searching for and hoping for, never expecting to find it so soon. She had gone through so much heartache and emotional struggle to get it and it was worth every moment.

With joy bursting in her chest like a fountain of spring rain as Ethan’s truck fired up, she flung back the covers and padded to the window. She peeked through the drapes, blinking and adjusting her vision to the morning darkness, only a hint of dawn shedding a pale light on the land.

Ethan’s ute was still at the bottom of her driveway. The tail-lights came on. It moved forwards, swinging into Burra Burra Lane, heading towards All Seasons Road.

He’d be going home now, to take a shower and get changed before he arrived back at 8 am, after staying there all night, protecting her.

She turned from the window, walked to her wardrobe, grabbing a little bedroom chair on the way. She stood on the chair, reached up and dragged the box of city clothes from the top shelf. She hopped down, put it on the bed, untied the string and lifted the lid. Digging deep down, between silks and cashmere, she pulled out what she wanted, and smiled.

With ermine and diamonds on her mind, she headed for the bathroom.

At the end of Burra Burra Lane, Sammy turned left into All Seasons Road. It was the warmest morning she had yet encountered in the eleven weeks she’d been in town. The sky was still dark but the sun peeked over the horizon shedding an orange glow on the road to mark her way. It would rain later, she could tell by the way the clouds sat. Not low with promise, and not high enough to say it wouldn’t happen, but bang in the middle. It struck her that she was indeed becoming a farmer, with such clever insight on reading the clouds.

She opened her lightweight jacket to let the air shiver inside, and inhaled the glory of the morning.

She strolled—no, she flowed down the road. She was tall in her flat white pumps and she didn’t object to the tiny stones on the road as they prodded the soles of her feet. She was comforted by the brush of the cornflower-blue cotton skirt against her bare legs, and warmed by the egg-shell colour of her cardigan and the cheerful daisy petals woven through the wool.

Fresh, honest, simple colours accentuated with the style and choice of cloth. Her clothes made the right statement for what she was doing today. Maybe she’d take a turn in her art too, scoop up some light acrylic paints, use a soft haired brush and do something rash.

Her skin tingled from fruity soap and fresh air. She felt different. She felt
right.

There was still a way to walk, and she took her time about it. No need to rush, she had a few things to think about.

She’d need to visit her mother, sort out how Verity would get home and thank Mr and Mrs Capper, pay them for her mother’s room and breakfast. Things between Sammy and her mother would stumble on. Verity would have a lot to say, but Sammy’s news would keep her mother quietened. The protracted and lengthy argument Verity would have been dreaming about giving Sammy all night—what had happened to her, and whose fault it had been—would have to wait. And maybe, Sammy was tempted to think, there wouldn’t be a need of reprimanding words at all. Maybe they’d found that place where they could respect each other.