Page 28 of Road to Rosalee

‘No worries.’ He turned and headed out the doorway.

‘Oh, before you go, when would you like me to start cooking for you lot?’

He briefly considered this. ‘How about dinnertime tomorrow night? Gives you the day to make yourself familiar with the place and the kitchen you’ll be working in.’

She nodded. ‘Perfect.’

He regarded her for a few more moments. ‘Righto. Well, catch you a bit later then.’ He tipped his hat and disappeared out the doorway, his footfalls quickly fading down the hall.

Plonking down on the end of her bed, Melody flopped backwards and stared at the revolving ceiling fan. She was beat, but also exhilarated. Her outback adventure had just begun and she couldn’t wait to see how her time here unfolded. Although they were isolated, something told her the six weeks were going to fly by.

Chapter

9

The following morning, after a decent first night’s sleep, Melody woke to the sound of absolutely nothing – it was almost mystical, in an encompassing kind of way. She honed her ears in a bid to hear something, anything, but it was actually so quiet, her ears were ringing. Cuddling into her pillow, she rolled onto her side and stretched out her leg, and used her toes to pull the blackout curtains to one side. Blinding golden light had her squinting. She sat up and ran her hands through her tousled hair before tugging it into a messy bun.

As inaccessible as the dark side of the moon, unless you had a you-beaut four-wheel drive and bush know-how, this place felt like a whole other universe. At the landscape unfurling before her very eyes, the spirit of adventure on the grandest of scales took over her. Something about being in the outback, where there were fewer rules, fewer people, fewer expectations … and then so much more of the good things – open spaces, genuine people, fresh air – made her feel footloose, free, and somehow more in control of her life. She suddenly felt the urge to live it to the full, for herself, and in her mother’s memory.

Leaping from the bed, she stretched her arms high, pausing when she caught her reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. Without an ounce of make-up on, her freckle-dusted nose was more evident – genetics of her dear mum, as were the chaotic curls that had reclaimed her usually ironed-flat hair. Just like she had at her father’s place, she would wear both curls and freckles with absolute pride. There was no need for airs and graces out here, or time-consuming hairstyle and make-up regimes. From what she could gather, Rosalee Station was all about being authentic, unlike the city vibe where you had to keep up appearances. And without Antonio breathing down her neck, reminding her of her flaws and shortcomings, she felt like a real person again, her real self, not some high-maintenance man’s china doll. Looking to her mobile phone on the dresser, now useless given there was no service here, she smiled – it made her feel untraceable.

Wandering to the kitchen, she made herself a cuppa, keen to plant her butt in the swing chair on the verandah for a little while – she’d spent hours there last night, gazing at the brightest star-studded sky she’d ever laid her eyes upon, with the occasional glance to where warm light spilled from the open windows of Zai’s place. Keen for his comfortable company and witty charm, she’d almost wandered over and knocked on his door, but had stopped herself – she didn’t want to make a habit of such things. And she certainly didn’t want to give the man the wrong impression from the get-go.

The phone rang from the hallway and she dashed to grab it. ‘Hello.’

‘Hey, Melody.’

‘Hi.’ It was nice to hear her father’s voice. ‘How are you?’

‘Yeah, good. I just called to make sure you’re settling in okay before I head out for the day.’

‘I sure am.’ She glanced around the massive home. ‘It’s very comfortable here, and my bedroom is awesome.’

‘Good, great. Have the men been polite?’

‘I haven’t met any of them yet, other than Zai, of course. I’ll be cooking them dinner tonight, so I gather we’ll be meeting and greeting over the table.’

‘You’ll all get on like a house on fire. Just don’t mind Hasselhoof. He can be a cantankerous old bugger, but he’s harmless.’

‘Right, noted.’ Zai had covered each of the mean, and the traits that had earned them their names, on the way to Rosalee the day before.

‘Okay, well, I’d best get a move on. Call if you need us, and I’ll be sure to call you every day to check in on you and see how you’re faring, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course I don’t mind. You have a good day.’

‘You too, sweetheart.’

Melody felt so loved and cared for when she hung up the phone – it was a nice sensation. Stirring her sugar into her coffee, she realised she didn’t even know what the time was. She looked to the clock above the stove – it was almost seven. After making herself a piece of toast, she headed out into the glorious day just as a grey kangaroo bounded across the front yard. Eyes wide as she licked the marmalade from her lips, she stood stock-still, watching it pass through with rapt fascination. She dared not move until it had vanished out of sight – the Aussie icon was even more massive than she’d imagined after seeing them on telly.

Spotting a rope swing hanging beneath a cluster of towering gums, she double-checked the coast was clear of any more roos then padded down the steps, over the lawn too lush for the likes of land so arid, and sank down on the seat, sighing in pleasure. She swung gently to and fro, the rusty chain squeaking in protest. Vividly coloured parrots squawked from the branches above, some taking flight with her intrusion. A few listless clouds drifted across the bright expanse of blue.

What a wonderful way to start the day.

Time ticked by, and ten hours later, after spending most of the day making herself familiar with her surrounds and the common kitchen, as well as having the occasional freak out because she felt completely isolated, Melody busied herself at the sink, rinsing bowls to then pack into the dishwasher. Just like she prayed she’d get over the isolation heebie-jeebies, she prayed the men would be happy with her choice for their first dinner together – beef stroganoff with homemade egg noodles and an apple pie and custard for dessert. She hadn’t thought to ask if any of them had allergies or intolerances, but something told her there wasn’t really such a thing when it came to the likes of a hard-core stockman, or maybe that was just her idealising the kind of man it took to be able to work in such harsh surrounds. She would soon find out.

Ducking to the staff toilets, she grimaced at the state of the seat, and the copper stains in the bowl. Why some men couldn’t wipe up after themselves was beyond her. She took a double glance to make sure there were no snakes hiding within, or redbacks on the toilet seat – a gal couldn’t be too careful. Ten point check done, she resolved to hover just above the seat, deciding she would give it a good going-over with bleach later on. Knickers around her ankles, and just about to do the balancing act, she spotted a flash of green jump between her legs and splat onto the concrete floor. She screamed, stumbling forwards before face-planting on the door. Rubbing her head, she turned slowly, horrified … and spotted a green tree frog sitting on the window ledge above the toilet, eyeing her accusingly.

Clutching her chest, she breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a creature far more sinister. ‘Far out, buddy, you almost gave me a heart damn attack.’