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***
The best part of the day, the coolest part, was long gone. Pausing for a much-needed breather, Connor looked to the blindingly blue sky without a single cloud in sight. It was only mid-morning, and the day was already turning out to be another scorcher. Beads of sweat ran between his shoulder blades and soaked through his mud-splattered shirt. He dropped his tools, straightened to his towering height, and with a tug of his hat to ward off the blinding sunshine, studied his handiwork. The new line of fencing would hopefully keep his neighbour Charlie Harrison’s rebellious cattle out, and his own herd in. He didn’t want another episode like the last one a few weeks back. It had taken both him and Charlie an entire day, and half the night, to find their wayward cattle and get them back into their respective paddocks. Time was precious, and he didn’t have the luxury of wasting any when it came to his heavy workload. With that workload in mind, he glanced at his watch and swore beneath his breath. In less than an hour he was meant to be meeting Jack for a counter lunch at the pub, so they could go over the last of the wedding plans. There was no way he could go in there, looking and smelling like a rubbish tip. A quick run through the dip was in order, so he needed to get a shift on if he didn’t want to be running late. Quickly climbing aboard his four-wheeler motorbike, he revved it to life and then, spinning it around, sped back towards the farmhouse.
Twelve on the dot, by some miracle, he strode through the front doors of the pub, frazzled but proud as punch for being on time. He said g’day to a few familiar faces in passing, making sure not to stop for a chat; some of the old timers could talk the legs off an iron pot.
Jack sat waiting for him at the bar, a cold one in hand. ‘Hey, Gunn, how goes it?’
‘Yeah, good.’ He shook Jack’s outstretched hand. ‘You?’ He nodded to the barmaid, who asked him if he wanted his regular pot of mid-strength beer.
‘I’m much better now I’m here, mate, the household has seriously gone crazy with wedding fever.’ He pulled a grim face. ‘I’m just glad most of the finer details are up to Shea and Sammie, because you and me would stuff it up for shizza.’
‘Ha, I could only imagine, seeing it’s only three days away.’ He elbowed Jack. ‘And speak for yourself about stuffing things up, buddy, I class myself as a professional planner.’
Jack chuckled. ‘Yeah, you’re better at it than me, I must admit.’ He picked up the menu and scanned it. ‘I’m bloody starving, you ready to order?’
‘Yup, good to go.’ After ordering his usual fall-off-the-bone ribs with a side of creamy garlic mash and salad, Connor turned back to Jack. ‘Can I get you another beer, mate?’
‘Thanks, that’d be great buddy, but just make it a middy. I’ll go get us a table while you do that, hey.’ He headed off towards the dining-room doorway.
Joining Jack with two icy-cold beers in hand, he placed the drinks down on the coasters, pulled a chair opposite his mate and sat.
Wrapping a hand around his glass, Jack held it up. ‘Cheers to escaping the craziness of the women for a little bit.’
Clinking the rims of their glasses, Connor took a long guzzle. ‘Huh, that bad, is it?’
‘Oh bloody hell, don’t get me started.’ Jack lightheartedly rolled his eyes. ‘If I have to hear about the colours of flowers, or where to sit who so there aren’t any arguments, one more time, I’ll seriously go nuts.’
‘Yeah, but it’ll all be worth it when you can officially call Shea your missus.’
‘It sure will be.’ Jack grinned like a man head over boots in love. ‘Shea is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’
Connor knew precisely how his mate felt because that was exactly how he felt about Sammie. If only he could make her his wife; now wouldn’t that be the best thing that had ever happened to him, and then some.
***
Sitting on her tousled bed, with her finger hovering above the button that had the possibility of changing her life forever, Samantha bit her bottom lip and hit send before she changed her mind. The email that agreed to a substantially smaller sum than she’d first wanted, giving Benjamin ownership of her apartment and the house, whooshed away into an inbox over the other side of the world. She hoped to God she’d made the right decision because there’d be no turning back now. Yes, she was going to have to pack up her apartment when she returned, and find herself a new place to call home, be it bought or a rental, but the six-digit figure in return would give her a very comfortable fresh start, wherever she chose for it to be. After being here the past few weeks, she’d learnt that peace of mind, and happiness, outweighed everything else. And that included any sum of money or material possessions. What mattered most was the love, support and companionship of her beautiful friends. Which she had. Always. Benjamin couldn’t take that from her.
Blinking against the brightness of the screen, she breathed a sigh as she snapped her laptop shut and then stretched her arms high, leaning from side to side to ease her lower back out. Try as she might, she was finding it harder to ignore the strong sense of belonging that had been creeping beneath her skin and stroking her tortured heart since arriving here. And early this morning, before the sun had even had time to rise on the gift of the new day, she’d made a decision that had shocked her, and still did. But it was made now. She wasn’t going to tell another soul what was on her mind until the wedding day had passed. She didn’t want any focus on her and her messy problems, not when the next few days should be all about her friends and their wonderful lives together.
Hurried footfalls sounded in the hallway. ‘Sammie, oh my god.’ Shea tore into the bedroom and thrust a phone in her face. ‘Can you believe this?’
Wincing, Samantha blinked faster. ‘Back up girlfriend, it’s all blurry.’
Shea took a few steps back. ‘Better?’
Samantha nodded, then when she spotted what had been Shea’s stunning white wedding dress, now torn and blackened, her eyes widened to the same size as Shea’s. ‘Holy crap.’ She covered her gaping mouth. ‘What happened?’
‘Magda, the seamstress, just sent this to me. Apparently, she left the iron on, and it was near my dress and oh my god what am I going to do now.’ She burst into tears. ‘I can’t believe that my dress is ruined two days before the wedding.’
Shooting to her feet, Samantha wrapped her arms around Shea. ‘It’s okay, we can fix this.’
‘But how?’ She sobbed against Samantha’s shoulder.
‘We have a way around this.’ Pulling back a little while keeping her emotions in check, she held Shea’s hands as well as her teary gaze. ‘We can alter my mum’s wedding dress to fit you.’
‘Thank you, but I can’t do that.’ Shea looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. ‘You kept that for your own wedding one day.’
‘Yes, I did, but then I got married in a rush and didn’t have time to get it sent over to me.’ She drew in a breath, her smile tight-lipped. ‘And who better to make use of it than you, my beautiful friend.’
