Emily's Cowboy (15 page)

Everyone in Gunnedah had done their best to rally around her and Mac, the way country townsfolk did. Since Mac had arrived back home, there had been no shortage of hearty casseroles, scones and Emily’s particular weakness—lamingtons. The small pieces of plain cake, dipped in melted chocolate and sugar then coated in desiccated coconut, were nearly as good as an orgasm.
Well, maybe not that good
, she mused, but she did love a ‘lamo’ all the same.

The Jets had enjoyed a successful season, and Emily had watched every game she could, usually alone in the house before Mac came home. She had sweated through each game as she always did, but this time knowing that eventually she and Gareth would be together. Gareth had called her from the after-game function at the club, and she had enjoyed chatting to little Elaina Thomson, who’d begged to be able to come and visit to help her with the chores. Apparently Gareth had, at length, explained all the work that she was responsible for—including shovelling manure. Emily had chuckled when, after pledging to help her with the chores, Elaina had clarified her statement by adding, “But I don’t think I can clean up the horse poo. It would make me spew…eww.”

As a result of the winning run, the Jets had made it to the Grand Final. Emily had really wanted to be there to cheer Gareth on, but of course, at the last minute a horse had pulled up lame, cows had broken through a fence and become lost in the bush and Mac had been released from the convalescent home. So Emily had watched the premiership-winning game from the Gunnedah Royal Hotel, surrounded by locals all cheering on the hometown boy and his Sydney-based team. Emily didn’t once worry about the fire’s legacy, the scars that had caused her so much misery in the past.

On the downside of Gareth’s fantastic season—or the most exciting result of it, depending on which way you looked at it—Gareth had been selected to play for Australia in the Tri-Nations Cup, a series of games between representative sides from Australia, England and New Zealand. It was the pinnacle of any rugby league player’s career to be chosen to represent his country. Emily was proud enough to burst at Gareth’s achievement. But it meant another month apart while he trained for the games, then travelled to New Zealand, that year’s host country, to play in them. It seemed to Emily that fate was playing a cruel hand in keeping her and Gareth apart.

The Australian team, after playing a number of games, had won the Tri-Nations Series. Emily had watched every game on the television in her living room, this time with her father cheering the Aussie team on beside her. Both had been glued, with senses of familial and national pride, to the international telecast. Ultimately, they had been overcome with emotion over the successful campaign and series win. Gareth had done his bit to ensure the Australian victory, and seeing him take his turn at lifting the winner’s cup had had Emily both shouting with joy and bawling at the same time.

Communication had been more difficult with Gareth out of the country, and his sharing a room with a fellow teammate had stifled their usual playful phone conversations. Emily wasn’t even sure when Gareth would be coming home, or even back into the country. It had been days since they had last spoken, but she was hoping, praying for it to be sooner rather than later.

* * * *

Life had to go on, though, and until Gareth returned to her there were always chores to keep her busy. Just this morning, Malcolm Andrews had called to report one of the fences down between their properties. Not wanting the cattle to wander and mix together, which would culminate in the time-consuming job of separating the two farms’ stock, he had sent a jackeroo out to mend the fence line, and had been hoping she might ride over to check on his job and see if any of her cattle were missing.

“Just what I need today. The last place I want to be is out near the dam,” she moaned to her horse, Sierra, as she saddled the brown mare in preparation to head out. The horse nuzzled her shoulder as if she was consoling Emily.

“I know, girl, I just need to be patient. Gareth should be home soon. It’s just that seeing the dam—our dam—will only make me miss him even more.”

The horse nickered, as if in sympathy, as Emily mounted up. Taking the reins, she turned Sienna towards the barn door, ready to head out to check on the Andrews’ workman, only to find her father was standing in her path. She was glad to see he was walking without the aid of a cane or crutch. Mac had nearly returned to full health, but she didn’t want him to push his body too far, too soon.

“Hey, Em. You heading to the north paddock to check those fences, then?”

“Yeah, Dad, might as well get it out of the way before it gets too hot. I should be back by lunch and I’ll fix us something to eat when I get back. Don’t do too much while I’m gone, okay? And Dad…listen out for the phone. I’m expecting to hear from Gareth—he must be coming home soon.” 

“Sure thing, Em…but I shouldn’t worry too much. I reckon he’ll be home before you know it.”

As Mac walked away, Emily noticed he seemed to be in a happier mood than usual—not that he was usually the kind of man to sulk or moan about anything. But if anything, there was a spring in his step today, which—considering her father had nearly lost his leg in the accident—made it all the more puzzling behaviour.

Well, at least one of us is feeling chipper
, she thought as she let Sierra have her head. The horse responded quickly to the freedom, galloping at speed towards the Andrews farm and the annoying fence repairs.

The wind in her hair and the power of Sierra between her legs, as horse and rider flew across the countryside, lifted Emily’s spirits. Sierra needed little encouragement to find the way to the Andrews property, having been there on so many occasions, so Emily just settled in to enjoy the ride and the picturesque surroundings. The different colours of the earth below her, the scent of the eucalyptus trees and native flora of the Australian bush in the air were a constant reminder of how much of a country girl she was.

 Emily’s irritation was quick to return to the surface, though, when she spied the fence line that was still in need of repairs. The Andrews’ jackeroo was nowhere to be found, although the tools and materials needed to complete the job had been piled on the ground in readiness for the work that still needed to be done.

“What the hell? Malcolm won’t be impressed his worker is skiving off when he should be working,” Emily told Sierra as she stroked the mare’s neck in reward for her ride. “What’s the bet the lazy so-and-so has taken himself off for a swim at the dam, or maybe catching a snooze in the sunshine? What say we go take a look, give him a bit of a wake-up call?”

As Emily headed towards the dam, she noticed a tent had been pitched not far from the bank of her and Gareth’s favourite swimming hole.

“Well, what do we have here?” she whispered to her horse. “The lazy roustabout has fixed himself a little home away from home for his morning kip! Well, I never—can’t wait to report this development to Malcolm. No wonder he sent me along to check it out.”

The nearer Emily got, the more annoyed she became. Not only had the jackeroo pitched a tent, but he had set himself up a table and a couple of chairs, strung a few lanterns among the gum trees and had a nice campfire burning. Emily started to feel a little apprehensive at the scene laid out before her. What if this was a squatter’s camp and had nothing to do with the errant Andrews farm worker? Should she investigate on her own? What if the tent’s resident—or residents—were not happy to find she had discovered their setup? She was out here, a woman on her own, and not the most imposing figure.

Halting Sierra’s progress about fifty metres away, Emily lifted her body higher in the saddle, standing on the stirrups to try to get a better look at the campsite, and to make a decision whether to continue or return home for some backup. There was a man swimming in the dam—she could see the sun glinting off his blond hair and broad shoulders. She blinked twice, trying to focus more clearly, because for a moment Emily had thought it was Gareth in the water.

“Wow, I must be really losing it,” she continued her one-sided conversation with her horse. “For a minute there, I thought it was…”

Emily didn’t finish her sentence. Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly when the male in question, the blond male in the dam, stood.

Emily urged Sienna a few strides closer, her breath caught in her throat. Even though she could only see his back, there was no doubt in her mind. It was Gareth. He was home, swimming in their dam…and he hadn’t told her, hadn’t called to let her know he was back.

For an instant, pain lanced Emily’s heart as thoughts filled her head that Gareth might have kept his arrival home a secret from her, because he had changed his mind about them being together. No, that couldn’t be true, not after all they had been through. Life couldn’t be that cruel to her…could it?

Emily sat back heavily onto the saddle. Sensing her agitation, Sierra shuffled her feet, flicking her head from side to side, neighing and snorting as if in response to her rider’s anguish. The sound filled the silence around Emily.

Then Emily thought about the tent, the lanterns strung about, and it all started to make sense. She had been set up. There was no missing jackeroo—she was meant to find Gareth, had been sent in this direction on purpose.

Smiling to herself as a plan formed, Emily decided that two could play at this game. She had her own surprise in store for her lover.

Chapter Twenty

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time—he’d thought of it as a perfect way to reunite.

“Romantic!” his mother had crooned, when Gareth had told his parents of his plans to surprise Emily. Even Mac had seemed chuffed at the idea, quickly assuring Gareth that he would lend his support in any way he could and encourage Emily to check the fences out near the dam, as Malcolm would request of her, putting her right where she needed to be.

Gareth had spent the morning getting everything just right—pitching the tent, stringing the lanterns. He had decked the inside of the tent out to resemble what he believed a sultan’s tent would look like.

He had transported over a double-bed mattress, a table and chair, and bedding his mother had pulled from what was apparently a stash she had been saving as wedding gifts. The burgundy satin sheets and matching velvet throws added to the romantic ambience he was trying to achieve. A few cushions thrown here and there, a basketful of rose petals—courtesy of his mother again—and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket next to two champagne flutes completed the picture.

He had set up the table and chairs, dressing the table with a lace cloth and some of his mother’s finest crockery and silverware. Gareth had gone to extreme lengths to make this reunion one Emily would never forget. Well, the beef stew warming in the campfire billy might not be French cuisine quality, but Gareth believed the chocolate-covered ripe strawberries and the dozen or so lamingtons—Emily’s favourite cake—in the ice box would make up for that. So would the one-carat diamond solitaire ring nestled in the jewellery box on her pillow, Gareth hoped.

Gareth could think of no better place to propose to Emily than this spot. After all, this was the place that Emily had stolen his heart and become more than just his best friend. This was where Emily had become the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And this was where he was about to make that become reality.

After one last look around to make certain everything was perfect, Gareth had decided to refresh in the cool water of the dam. He had worked up quite a sweat setting everything up, and the last thing he wanted was to be blasting Emily with body odour when he took her in his arms this first time after what seemed an eternity.

After washing his body thoroughly, Gareth floated on his back in the cool water and gazed up at the sunshine-filled skies. The tops of gum trees swayed in the breeze, and a few white, fluffy-looking clouds punctuated the blue sky. It was a perfect late spring day. Now all Gareth needed was for Emily to show up. It shouldn’t be too much longer, if all his calculations were correct. Gareth had left out the materials for the fence repairs—for the fence he himself had cut—for Emily to find. Knowing how her mind worked, he believed she would come snooping around to see if the missing jackeroo was shirking his work and having a swim—hey, that was what he and Emily had done on more than a few occasions. It was time for him to get dressed and wait for her.

As Gareth stood up, he heard the faint sound of a horse nickering behind him. He turned towards the sound and sure enough, there was a horse nearby—a riderless horse. It looked very much like Sierra, Emily’s horse. But where was Emily? Gareth looked towards the campsite he had set up, then he saw her. She was standing on the bank of the dam. More to the point, she was standing on the bank of the dam
nude
—well, apart from the shirt she had clasped in front of her, shielding the sight of her naked breasts and mound from his view.

While Gareth was disappointed not to be able to see her beautiful breasts unhindered—he imagined her berry-coloured nipples hard and protruding, just begging to be adored—he did savour the sight of her long, toned legs. Emily had the sexiest set of legs Gareth had ever seen—her small, feminine feet and delicate ankles led to shapely calves, and even her knees were adorably perfect. She was all woman. His Emily.

Gareth was lost for words. He had missed her almost beyond endurance, constantly in a battle with himself not to just chuck the whole football life in and return to be with her. If not for Rook and Pippa, and the ability to frequently speak to Emily and see her face, albeit on a computer screen, he would not have made it. But she was here now. He was here now.

Gareth’s cock had risen to attention despite the cold water. It was very reminiscent of that very first time he had gazed upon Emily as a woman and not just his childhood buddy—him in the water, her standing nervously unclad on the bank of the dam. Just like the last time, Gareth watched, mesmerised as Emily’s shirt floated to the ground in front of her, only this time there were no bra and panties. This time Emily was gloriously naked to his eyes.