Driftwood (15 page)

Joey stared at William, slack-jawed. ‘Will. Don't offer him anything after what he's just said. He's a dirty, lowdown weakling. We can't trust him here.'

‘Well, I ain't having him wandering back into town with a gripe. I'd rather have him here, where I can keep an eye on him,' Will grumbled.

Joey nodded. ‘Oh yeah, good thinking.'

‘Thanks,' Ben muttered as he stared in disbelief, his face draining of all colour. He yanked out of William's loosening hold and retched over the side of the cart.

William jumped back, the contents of Ben's stomach barely missing his boots. He shook his head at the threadbare state of the man, now feeling more pity than anger. This shadow of a man had once been his robust, ever dependable mate, his comrade, and one who had helped him escape from jail all those years ago. And now look at him, destitute, drunk and pathetic.

William was a firm believer in never kicking a man when he was down and Ben had certainly hit rock bottom. He just hoped he'd made the right decision in offering to keep him on at Waratah Station. Ben's knowledge of Hocking's death, wherever he'd obtained it, had the power to shatter his perfect life and blow Anne's trust in him forever.

2012 — Far North Queensland

Kookaburras laughed melodiously, drawing Taylor's attention to the enormous kitchen window, a breeze fluttering the thin navy curtains. She leant on the sink, gazing dreamily at the sweeping views and admiring the immaculate flowering gardens. Tom was evidently house proud; the cottage was clean and uncluttered with country memorabilia dotted around. She was very impressed by his attention to detail.

‘So, do you like it?' Jay asked from his place on the ancient but cosy-looking lounge chair. His arm rested on a cushion that was embellished with the Australian flag, which matched the flag on the wall above the huge flat-screen telly.

Taylor turned to face him with her hands in her pockets, taking in the modest but welcoming four-bedroom timber and corrugated iron cottage. It had a rustic charm about it she adored, with its mismatched furniture, time-worn timber floorboards, extra-large bathroom and lime green kitchen that was open plan and very functional. There was also the added bonus of a large timber door that opened out onto a pleasant back veranda decorated with hardy potted plants. The double bed in her room had a bit of a squeak but it was comfortable, and the worn-out dressing table and clothes cupboard were made of decaying chipboard but she could live with that. Jay had explained proudly that his great-great-great-grandfather, William Donnellson, had built the cottage with his bare hands. For Taylor, the connection added an aura of authenticity to the place.

‘I love it!' she said. She smiled, contemplating all the little things she could do to the place to jazz it up and give it a bit of a woman's touch. It definitely had potential, loads in fact.

Jay smacked the cushion elatedly. ‘Great. That's what I wanted to hear. Now, let's go check out the dam. I've got an esky packed with a few sandwiches and a couple of beers that should cover us for lunch.'

Taylor sat in the passenger seat of Jay's LandCruiser, enjoying the sunshine, her forearm resting on the windowsill as the humid breeze brushed over her face. Floyd was up in the back of the LandCruiser, his tongue lolling out to the side of his mouth as he ran from one side of the tray to the other in canine excitement, enticing a chuckle from both Taylor and Jay.

Taylor's awe of Waratah Station was growing by the second as Jay stopped and showed her things along the way to the dam. Other than the cottage, there was an old bough shed, which was where his ancestors, William and Anne, had first lived at Waratah, and the family graveyard, up on the highest point of the station behind the homestead. Taylor was saddened to see the two children's graves beside Anne's and William's graves and wondered what had happened to take two lives so very young. She had found the spot very otherworldly, as though William's and Anne's spirits were still looking over Waratah Station. Taylor loved history and the knowledge Jay so proudly shared with her was awe-inspiring; it brought the landscape to such vivid life, as though it had veins pulsing beneath its red, dusty skin.

Passing what appeared to be foundations for a house, she pointed. ‘Are you building a house, Jay?'

‘Um . . .
was
building a house.' Jay grimaced. ‘That was until Becky decided to run off with a city bloke.'

Taylor screwed her face up. ‘Bitch.'

Jay grinned at her. ‘Yep.'

‘So where do you live now?'

‘I used to live with Tom. But I'm back living with Mum at the moment, which is probably for the best. She kinda needs me there to help with . . .' Jay's voice trailed off and he shook his head, sadness crossing his face.

Taylor waited patiently, hoping he'd explain why his mum needed him, as she wanted to support him and tell him she was here for him. But he didn't, and she didn't want to seem like a snoop. She already knew the reason was his mum's drinking, but only because of what Zoe had told her, and she gathered he might be embarrassed to talk about it. Not that he should be. The silence hung a little heavily so to break it she opened a packet of Minties she'd brought along and pulled one out for herself, and then shook the bag beside Jay in offering.

‘Thanks. Don't mind if I do,' he said, digging his hand in, his smile returning.

They chewed for a minute, the gummy lollies sticking to their teeth and making it impossible to talk.

Taylor sucked hers into a small ball then swallowed it down, keen to ask Jay about his interests. ‘So, tell me, when did you start riding bulls?'

‘Ahh, when I was about twelve, give or take a year. Dad was a passionate bull rider, same as Tom, and the pair of them took their fair share of prize money over the years . . .' He chuckled. ‘Poor Mum, she used to have a fit when she spotted me out in the paddock with the bulls, and she'd give Dad a bloody good lecture when she did. But she couldn't stop me. I loved it, loved the thrill of riding. I used to compete a fair bit, too, until Dad's accident —' Jay stiffened, gazing out the window as he cleared his throat, a weighty silence making Taylor want to reach over and grab his hand. But she waited for him to continue.

‘Dad died when he was crushed by a bull in the chutes and since then I haven't wanted to go back to the sport. I just can't bring myself to do it. So instead, I breed bucking bulls. And I really enjoy it. The circuit starts again in June, once the mustering's over with. I'm just hoping I can get away for it this year so I can show off Tiny's talents in the ring. Don't like my chances, though — too much to do out here to just up and leave. And Tom can't do it all on his own.'

Taylor blinked back tears. ‘I'm so very sorry for your loss, Jay. If it makes you feel any better, I know how you feel, although I didn't know my dad. He died when I was just a baby. All I have of him is a black-and-white photo.' She smiled faintly. ‘He was a stockman, so I reckon that might be where I get my country blood from.'

Jay turned to face her, genuine compassion in his eyes. ‘Shit, Taylor, that must be really hard, knowing you'll never get to meet him. And I thought my life was hard. You'll have to show me the photo one day. I'd love to see it.' He gave her a look that melted her heart, shaking his head sadly. ‘I'm really sorry to hear you've lost your dad too. Honestly, I feel for you, I really do.'

Taylor gave Jay's arm a matey tap. ‘Don't apologise. I've come to accept it, sort of. I won't lie and say it doesn't get me down at times, but hey, life moves on and if you don't move on with it, it'll leave you behind.'

Jay shook his head in disbelief. ‘God, you're amazing. I wish I could be a little more like you when it comes to the way I look at things. You've had a horrible thing happen to you and you're still looking on the bright side of life.' Jay grunted. ‘And here I am wallowing in my own self-pity.'

Taylor, taken aback and feeling a deeper bond developing, touched his hand gently. ‘Hey. Everyone grieves differently. Don't beat yourself up over it. You're allowed to feel how you feel.'

Jay gave her hand a grateful squeeze before releasing it to change down gears. ‘Thanks for understanding. It's a nice change. Not a lot of people do.'

Taylor smiled. ‘Any time.' She decided to change the subject, wanting to keep the vibe blissful between them. ‘So, how do you train these bucking bulls? It must be bloody hard work.'

‘Nah, not really. Bucking, kicking and jumping is an instinctive ability that bulls have, and believe me, they love to strut their stuff. The bucking and spinning movements bulls use to throw the riders off are exactly the same way calves play out in the paddocks. It's fun to them, and even better fun to watch them playing about.'

Taylor nodded. ‘So how do you know the champion bulls from the ones that just like to mess about, then?'

Jay chuckled. ‘Good question — I like your way of thinking. The thing that distinguishes a champion bucker is the bull's inexhaustible determination to throw the riders. Tiny possesses that and it's what made him the top bull in the rodeo circuit last year. All the riders were shit scared of drawing him.'

Taylors face lit up. ‘Wow. You mean I just met Australia's number one bucking bull?'

Jay smiled proudly. ‘Yep, sure did. But there's a bit more to it than just the bull's natural instinct to buck — that is, if you want to be bored to death with all the info.'

Taylor wriggled around to face him, her hands clasping with anticipation. ‘Of course I want to know. This is bloody fascinating!'

Jay eyed her suspiciously. ‘Really? Most women find this far from fascinating. I think “watching paint dry”' was Becky's response. You're not just humouring me are you, Taylor?'

Taylor feigned offence by laying her hand across her chest. ‘Me? Humouring you?
Never
. Now please, go on.'

Jay grinned, clearly impressed with her eagerness to hear more as his smile stretched from ear to ear. ‘Well, the most important gizmo is the flank strap, a rope that's tied around a bull's torso just in front of its hind legs. The strap is then tightened to a point that provides pressure but of course no pain.' He glanced towards her, making sure she wasn't fazing out. Taylor smiled at him, giving him a ‘go on' look. ‘Then, when the bull bucks, the elongation and successive narrowing of its torso eliminates the tautness of the flank strap, leading the bull to believe it's thrown the rider. That's the desired result and the method repeats once the bull's midriff recoils and the tension of the strap returns.'

‘So, in basic terms, the strap is used to encourage a natural instinct for rodeo purposes.'

‘Yep, you've hit the nail on the head. And, to top it all off, the bulls are well cared for, and even loved, contrary to what some animal activists like to believe. I'm speaking from firsthand experience here too.'

Taylor touched his arm, allowing her hand to rest there. It felt good to be bonding with him. ‘I'm really impressed, Jay. Good on you for following a dream.'

‘You know what? I never thought of it like that. I
am
following a dream. Cheers for pointing it out, Taylor.'

‘Again, any time. That's what mates are for.' She smiled and placed her hand back in her lap, her fingers tingling from touching him.

The dam finally came into view as they bumped along the track, ripples on the water's surface sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. With the small waterfall on the far side it was so pretty that Taylor could barely contain her eagerness to jump into its cool depths. She grinned cheekily at Jay then carefully eased her body out the window, ignoring his pleading to get back inside. She planted her bum firmly on the windowsill while gripping the roof racks for stability.

Jay, having given up on trying to drag her back in by the ankles, chuckled at her lack of inhibition but was not at all surprised by it after her naked escapade at Coral Bay. ‘What are you doing, you crazy woman!'

‘Letting the wind play with my hair. You should try it sometime. It's great fun!' Taylor squealed back delightedly.

Jay carefully manoeuvred the LandCruiser through some scrub, acutely aware of his priceless cargo sitting on the doorframe. Taylor's assets bounced around underneath her singlet with every bump. Not that he was a pervert, but he
was
a bloke and they were hard to ignore, being so perfectly voluptuous. He fought to keep his gaze on the track.

Coming to a complete stop he killed the ignition, struggling with the desire to reach out and trace his fingers down her long, smooth legs. God, she was gorgeous, inside and out. ‘And taken,' he mumbled. Fuck Cooper, the lucky bastard, he always seemed to get what he wanted. Not that he should be pissed off. He'd had the chance to woo Taylor and had decided against it, and he had to stick to that decision. She was too much of a top chick to be burdened with his shitty life and by the sounds of it, she'd already had her fair share of heartache, losing her dad so young.

Jumping out before he did something stupid, Jay left his door wide open and jogged around to lift a wild-haired Taylor down from her perch, luxurious shivers running down his spine as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He placed her down on the ground and she smiled sheepishly, his heart almost coming to a complete stop as her hands lingered softly on his neck then moved down his chest before pulling away.

The sensuous moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived; leaving him wondering if he'd imagined it. Taylor tore off her clothes, leaving only the skimpy bikini she'd changed into back at the cottage, and ran full pelt towards the dam, yahooing, a spray of water flying up around her as she dived in. Floyd wasn't far behind her.

‘Come on, Jay!' she called, her athletic body surfacing like a goddess rising, her hair slicked back, face covered in droplets of water. ‘It's beautiful in here.'