Page 21 of Road to Rosalee

Some crazy part of her wanted to say yes. She didn’t want this adventure into her new identity to come to an end. ‘Can I think about it?’

‘Of course you can. I just need an answer by this arvo.’

She blew a loud breath. ‘Gee whizz, no pressure.’

Matt grinned. ‘Nope, none at all.’

They returned to watching the sunrise. As she silently, frantically tried to decide if going out to Rosalee Station was feasible, weighing up all the ramifications if she said yes, Melody found herself wanting to ask her father more about what had happened the day he’d come close to dying. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask, who was it that found you, down the mine shaft?’

‘An Aboriginal tracker called Getty. I haven’t seen him since that day, and have no idea where he is now, but I’ll never forget him.’ His expression turned sombre and the muscles in his jaw tightened, like he was holding emotions at bay. ‘I basically owe my life to him.’

Melody laid a gentle hand over her father’s. ‘I’m thankful he found you. Otherwise I would have lost a mother and a father.’

Looking to her with all-embracing understanding and compassion, Matt took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. ‘You really are a sweet girl, Melody, and I’m so proud and honoured to be your dad. I just hope, in time, I make you proud too.’

Overwhelmed, she bit back tears. ‘I’m already proud of the man you are, and I can’t wait to get to know you and your beautiful little family even better.’

‘That means the world to me.’ Matt’s eyes glistened and he blinked faster, a slight smile re-emerging. ‘So, tell me, does this mean you’re going to say yes to my offer?’

* * *

Waking bright and early the following morning, Melody couldn’t believe she’d said yes. But bearing witness to the pleading in her father’s eyes had made it impossible for her to say no. Besides, she was longing to know more about her family roots, and she wasn’t ready to go back to Sydney, with the emptiness and monotonousness of the city rush, or to Antonio. She knew what she had to do regarding their marriage, but she just wasn’t quite ready to face the music. Asking for a divorce was going to create a massive ripple effect – how was she meant to continue owning a business with her ex? For once in her life, she was just going to go with the flow and see where that took her. It was a liberating, if scary, feeling.

Still half-asleep, she rolled onto her side and cuddled a pillow to her. After a topsy-turvy night she just wanted another hour or two before having to make the call she was dreading. Antonio wasn’t going to take the news of her extended break well, but then again, like her Aunt Sally had drummed into her on their long phone call the day before, she needed to think about herself for once. This was what she wanted, what she needed to find her feet and, hopefully, find herself. She was doing the right thing, heading out to Rosalee Station, or so she liked to believe. Only time would tell.

Yawning, she pulled a pillow over her head, closed her eyes and willed herself to stop overthinking everything – it wasn’t doing her any favours. She needed to learn the art of letting go, of living in the moment, of living her best life doing the things that made her heart sing and her spirit soar. There was something about being near her father, and also sharing time with a woman as kind and thoughtful as Sarah and a child as full of wonder as Beau; something about the country air, the simpler, slower pace of life, that made her believe she was on the right path to such enlightenment.

Almost sinking into the mattress, she jumped with fright when Makka, the Clarke Farm rooster, crowed outside her bedroom window, his calls startling her to heart-thudding life. She bolted upright, sending the pillow flying across the room, almost laughing out loud when she spotted the state of her bed hair in the closet mirror.

After catching her breath, she tugged the curtains behind her bed open and pressed her face against the flyscreen, spotting the loudmouth straight away. ‘You may think you’re the king of the castle here, Makka, but did you also know you’re a pain in the butt?’

His comb flopping side to side, Makka regarded her, cock-a-doodled again, and strutted off, as though he was diligently off to his next important job. Shaking her head, Melody laughed at the rooster’s audacity – he was an absolute character.

Giving up on the notion of any more sleep, she climbed from the tousled bed, straightened her pyjamas, quickly tugged the doona up and fluffed her pillows, and headed into the bathroom. She needed to freshen up before heading to the kitchen in search of a cuppa, and a splash of cold water on her face would do the trick.

Padding through the quiet house, she strode towards the electric jug, startled once again at her father’s voice. ‘Morning, Melody.’

She spun to face him. ‘Good morning.’ It felt so surreal, to be standing in the same house, in the same room, as her biological father. She still felt like she had to pinch herself.

Seated at the breakfast bench, Matt offered a kind smile. ‘Did you sleep okay?’

‘Sure did.’ She didn’t want to complain about the fact that she’d woken countless times after dreams of being stuck in the middle of nowhere, bored out of her brain with nothing to do. ‘You?’

‘Yeah, like a log.’ He stood, his chair scraping along the tiles. ‘You ready for your big adventure in the outback?’

‘Yes and no.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m a little worried I won’t fit in out there.’

Reaching the sink, he glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I dunno.’ She shrugged again. ‘I’m worried I might be a little too city-ish with my style of cooking, and in my ways.’ Duke arrived at her side and she gave his head a welcoming pat. Duchess wasn’t far behind, the puppy somersaulting to a panting stop at her feet. She bent and scooped her up, laughing as Duchess tried desperately to lick her face.

‘You’re overthinking things, I reckon, Melody. A trait I’m accustomed to, as Sarah always reminds me.’ Her father turned to face her, kindness in his deep brown eyes. ‘There’s no way you’re too city-ish. I can see the country blood in you a mile away. Besides, the people out there accept folks for who they are, country, city, whatever.’ He patted his chest. ‘It’s what’s in here that counts, and you, my splendid daughter, have a heart of gold.’ He grinned a little. ‘Just like your old man.’

‘Wow, thank you.’ Melody had no power over the tears that sprung up and rolled down her cheeks. Wishing she could have a stiffer upper lip, she tried to wipe them away. ‘Sorry, I’ve been really emotional since …’ She sniffled. ‘It’s tough, knowing I’ll never see her again.’

‘Of course. There’d be something wrong with you if you weren’t emotional about losing your mum.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Take it from the master of being hard on yourself – you need to stop being so hard on you and let yourself wholly and solely feel what you need to at any given moment.’ He gave the bench a soft tap. ‘It’s what helps you to heal and move on with lighter steps and a lighter heart. Trust me.’

Unable to speak for fear of breaking into uncontrollable sobs, she nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she finally squeezed out.