Page 33 of Road to Rosalee

Her thoughts drifted to Zai, and the way he always made her feel so at ease in his company, as though she’d known him for most of her life. She also couldn’t deny the fact that she was extremely attracted to him – what woman wouldn’t be? But she shouldn’t be. Her life was messy enough without adding a holiday fling to the mix.

And that’s all it could be, given she’d be returning to Sydney once her stint as camp cook was over. It was easier said than done though, when it came to Zai Wellstone and his commanding presence. Even if she could ignore his soulful blue eyes, ripped body, and nerves-of-steel-with-a-heart-of-gold personality, it was the very first time in her life she’d met a man who really listened and wanted to know more, no matter how much she told him about herself. And apart from this, Zai was intelligent, and witty and interesting, and thoughtful, and … heck, the list just went on and on. But give it time, she thought. They always showed their true colours after a while. Antonio had certainly taught her that.

She turned her attention to the glint of a sloping roof just beyond the first dam. She hadn’t ventured that far as yet, instead choosing to go in the opposite direction when she went for a ride on the four-wheeler – there was more life to be seen that way. But now the ramshackle shack tempted her, as did the glimmer of the body of water beside it. Finishing her coffee, she left her cup on the banister, tugged on her boots and descended the stairs two at a time. Twenty minutes later, after a brisk stroll down an earthen track while keeping her eyes peeled for snakes, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and tried the rusty door handle, not expecting it to open. Nonetheless, her curiosity got the better of her.

Butting it with her shoulder, she felt it budge, and one more shove had it swinging open. She was almost too afraid to peek inside, but after a cloud of dust cleared, she cautiously stepped into the gloom. Morning sunlight spiked through holes in the high-pitched roof and struck the timber floor like spears, the dust dancing upon its goldenness. Cobwebs spanned every corner, the intricate interlacing a work of spider art. Discarded farm equipment, rusted with age, was piled along the far wall. Drums were lined up alongside it all.

She sucked in a sharp breath. An old ute was parked up in the farthest corner, the side of it crumpled in, as was the roof. Her heart skidded to an almighty stop. Was this the ute her father had rolled the day he’d hit a bull and lost his darling Eve? A young girl who would have been her sister, had she lived …

The notion was deeply distressing. It took Melody a few moments to get her feet to move, and she took slow, cautious steps towards it. A thick layer of dust covered every inch of it, though a tarp had been tossed over the bonnet. She placed a hand on the windowsill and bent to peer inside, wincing when her finger caught on broken glass. She brought her fingertip to her mouth, the small droplets of blood tasting metallic. The inside of the ute was crushed and crumpled and scattered with shards of windscreen. She could almost imagine the mayhem, as if she’d just stepped back in time, and was watching the horrific scene unfold. Straightening, she felt her heart ache for the horror, fear and heartbreak Matt and Sarah would have suffered that day, and the pain they would have endured every day thereafter. The grief with the loss of a young child, she imagined, would be something a person would never be able to move past, but only grow somewhat used to.

‘There you are.’

Melody jerked out of her thoughts and blinked back tears as she spun to see Zai. ‘Holy crap, you scared the life out of me.’ She sniffed hard and smiled through her anguish.

‘I’m sorry, didn’t mean to.’ He came to her side. ‘What in the heck are you doing in here?’ he asked, looking at her then the ute, then back at her again.

‘I was just exploring and came across this.’ She glanced back at the mess of glass and metal. ‘I gather it’s the …’ She choked on the last words.

‘Yeah, it is.’ He cleared his throat, as though uncomfortable with the conversation. ‘Your grandparents wanted to get it out of sight, out of mind.’ He half shrugged. ‘It’s not like you can get a tow truck out here, so this was the next best thing.’

‘It’s so sad.’ She shook her head, a well of emotions almost engulfing her. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what they went through.’

‘It was pretty tough.’ Reaching out, Zai gave her arm a gentle squeeze. ‘You right?’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ She sniffled and wiped her damp eyes. ‘I just feel for their loss.’

‘It took a long time for them to get past the grief of it, and for your dad to move past the guilt. He went to hell and back, torturing himself over it. We weren’t sure he was going to make it through at one stage.’ He cleared his throat again – clearly it was hard for him to talk about. ‘I don’t think your dad knows the ute’s in here. We don’t really use this building anymore, so probably don’t mention it if possible, hey.’

‘Oh, of course not. I never saw it.’ She took steps to distance herself from it, and Zai joined her.

It felt good to step back outside into the sunshine, into the present moment. ‘How did you know I was down this way?’

‘I followed your boot prints.’ He grinned. ‘Tool of the trade out here, being able to track.’

‘Wow, clever. So, what were you hunting me down for?’ Tucking her hands into her back pockets, she tipped her head away from the sun.

‘Oh, I just wanted to give you a heads-up that me and the men are heading out to fix a few of the fences. We’ll head back for lunch around one, if that’s okay with you?’

‘Yeah, of course it is.’

‘Righto then. You heading back to the homestead?’

‘Sure am.’

‘I’ll walk you back then head off.’

They chatted comfortably about this and that, and before she knew it, her heavy heart had lifted and he was bidding her farewell. Climbing aboard the horse he’d left tethered at the front of the homestead, he tipped his hat, turned and galloped away. She waved him off, wandered past the sheets she’d hung out earlier, flapping in the breeze, kicked her boots off at the back door, and stepped into the welcoming coolness of the house. Enjoying the challenge of creating menus based on frozen and canned foods, with a little fresh produce thrown in from the garden, she pondered what she would make them for lunch, and then dinner and sweets – to their delight, she’d told them they’d always get dessert in her kitchen. A bushman’s usual diet of steak, stew, corned beef and damper wasn’t anything to complain about, but she wanted to give them food with a little more oomph, a little more pizzazz, and one very fetching stockman in particular, she wanted to sprinkle his serving with a little more … something. Deciding to make her lemon meringue pie and custard along with spaghetti bolognese made from slow-cooked oxtail and some homemade garlic bread, she headed over to the common kitchen, stopping to pick some fresh bush lemons along the way, and began gathering everything she needed from the pantry. For lunch, she was going to whip up beef and bacon pies and an apple and cinnamon teacake.

Two hours later, she’d achieved all that, leaving the oxtail to simmer in the slow cooker for the afternoon and the bread to rise. Instead of waiting around for the guys, she decided she’d do them a favour. She eagerly grabbed the two-way. ‘Zai, Slimbo, anyone, do you copy?’

The two-way crackled to life at the other end and Zai’s unmistakable husky voice carried to her. ‘Howdy, cook. What’s up?’

‘I reckon I need a little adventure, so how about I bring lunch to you guys?’

‘Oh, that’d be tops, Melody, but are you sure?’

‘Yes, a hundred percent.’