Family Farm (24 page)

His hand moved up and cupped her cheek, then ever so softly, he kissed her cheek just millimetres from her mouth. As quickly as it had happened, he’d let her go and pulled away. She felt a chill run through her despite the hot stuffy pub. Looking up, she saw Beau thrusting a drink in her direction, his eyes boring holes into the side of Will’s face. Clearing her throat, she thanked Beau for the drink. As she took a sip she noticed her hand shaking slightly.

Will sat silently watching Izzy for a moment, then just because he knew it would irk Izzy and Beau, he slipped his arm back around her narrow waist. He curled his fingers around her hips, holding her warm skin. A smile danced on the corner of her lips. Darn, he wasn’t expecting that. Maybe she was playing along with him now or maybe she liked it. How was he to know?

None of their flirting was wasted on Beau. Eventually he got the hint and gave up. Soon a group of young girls in the back corner attracted his eye and he started to move away. As Beau shook Will’s hand goodbye, he said into his ear, ‘You’re one hell of a lucky bastard, mate.’ Giving Izzy a quick kiss on the cheek was as close as he was going to get.

Will and Izzy laughed about it all the way back to Will’s parents’ flat. He had been the responsible driver sticking to his light beers. It was a fast trip back, with no cars on the road and the lights going their way most of the time.

‘Oh, my sides are hurting. Stop it,’ said Izzy, clutching at her aching waist, as she staggered in the dark towards a light that was guiding her to the front of the flat.

Will came up behind her and held her by the arm, half guiding, half holding her straight. He felt dizzy himself but not from the grog. He’d only had a few. The click-clack of Izzy’s shoes against the paving echoed through the night and began to turn Will on.

Their breathing seemed loud in the quiet stillness. She leaned on Will, not really needing his support, but more for the warmth and scent of his body.

Unlocking the door, Will flicked on a few lights, then guided Izzy through a quick tour of the small flat. It was painted a sandy colour throughout with light terracotta tiles in all rooms except the bedrooms. The furniture was mainly wrought iron, from the light fittings to the black bar stools in the kitchen. There were minimal pictures on the walls.

‘Must be nice being able to afford a city house,’ said Izzy. She knew quite a few farmers who had coastal properties or city pads for getaways.

‘Yeah, I haven’t been here in a while. But Mum likes to come up every couple of months.’ Will steered her towards the spare bedroom. ‘And you can sleep in here. Bathroom’s the second door on the left,’ he said, as he pointed down a narrow corridor. ‘I’ll just duck back to the ute and get your bag.’

When he returned, he put her bag in her room and watched as she took her shoes off. ‘Do you want a cuppa?’

‘No thanks. Think I might hit the hay.’ Izzy put the shoes to one side and stood in front of Will, who was looking very alluring with his top two buttons undone. ‘Cheers, Will, for being my chaperone,’ she said, throwing her hands up on his chest. His hard body felt warm under her tingling fingertips. Their night of games had been fun and she didn’t want it to end. Her heart beat wildly for a moment, from the mixture of alcohol and the fact that she was now alone with Will. It was a deadly combination. Electricity was sparking and it wasn’t from a stray wire.

Izzy had noticed it building up slowly and had desperately tried to suppress it, knowing that giving in to it now could ruin a great friendship. But she found it difficult to control herself. She was tempted to rip off his shirt and watch the buttons go flying. She ached to touch his bare chest and explore. Her temperature was beginning to rise. Quickly she bit her lip and tried to collect her senses, scolding herself for being weak.

Will, as if grappling with his own thoughts, placed a hand on each of her arms and kissed her forehead. ‘My pleasure. I had a great time.’ His voice was low and husky. He looked deep into her eyes, testing his resistance, before letting go of her arms. ‘Night,’ he said, before quickly shutting the door and trying to cut off the flow of energy between them.

Izzy was thankful for his gentlemanly retreat, though her heart continued to race. She flopped down onto the double bed that took up most of the room except for a couple of bedside tables. She wasn’t so sure she’d have been able to control herself, if he had tried anything. But a part of her was sad that he didn’t try. Thoughts of having a relationship with Will had begun creeping in more and more recently as her attraction to him got stronger. But she knew nothing would ever come of it. It couldn’t. Living next door, it would be too hard for him to avoid her. He couldn’t dump and run. It had the possibility of destroying not only their friendship now but also his relationship with her dad. And as much as she envied their closeness, she knew Bill needed Will.

Tugging at her hair, Izzy pulled out the clips and let it slowly begin to unravel as it fell to her shoulders. She would seriously have to avoid getting drunk around Will again. She didn’t want to do anything stupid.

IZZY was still sound asleep the following morning when Will knocked gently on her door before letting himself in. His feet were silent on the grey carpet as he moved up to the side of her bed, carrying a silver tray laden with breakfast. A stack of hairclips and pins lay on the wooden bedside table, next to a couple of blue dangly earrings Izzy had been wearing the previous night. He liked the way she looked in her sleep, so angelic, especially with her brown wavy hair fanned out across the white pillow.

‘Izzy? Izzy?’ he said softly.

Slowly opening her eyes, she screwed up her face at the morning light that peeked through a gap in the curtains. ‘Morning,’ she groaned, before shutting her eyes for a moment. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s eight and I was lonely. Come on, sleepyhead. I brought you some breakfast,’ urged Will, amused. It was strange but nice to see this unprepared and disorganised side of her.

Izzy’s eyes opened more quickly again as she realised where she was and what Will was saying.

‘Oh, cool,’ she said, yawning and sitting up. Her hair bounced across her shoulders as the white sheet slid down over her soft, olive skin. Embarrassed, she clutched at the sheet with her hand, remembering she only had on a PJ singlet that sometimes didn’t hold much in. The sheet stopped just short of the nipple of one of her wayward breasts, like a ewe darting away from the rest of the mob. She tried to remain calm.

Will, trying hard to move his eyes away from her, cleared his throat and transferred a cup to her bedside table.

‘Mmm, something smells good.’ Izzy watched the muscles in his arms as he unloaded the tray he was carrying. She realised that he was only wearing a pair of black silk boxers. Bugger. If only her eyes weren’t all blurry from make-up and sleep. ‘Have you just got up too? You slack arse, making me feel like you’ve been up for hours.’

Will laughed. ‘Now, I’m not sure how your head is this morning, but I brought you some Panadol just in case, as well as some toast and a cuppa.’ He held the empty tray in front of him, trying to hide what the silky material of his boxers would not.

Izzy took a quick moment to think. ‘You know, I don’t feel too bad. I should be okay after something to eat and a shower.’ She reached for a piece of toast. ‘You’re a star, you know that,’ Izzy said, before shoving the Vegemite toast into her mouth.

Will laughed. ‘I’ve put a blue towel in the bathroom for you. Just help yourself.’ He left her to her breakfast, and padded quietly out of her room and back to the kitchen.

‘A girl could get used to this,’ she called after him.

When Izzy walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, she found Will sitting at the table wearing jeans and a singlet and sipping his tea while reading the daily paper. His hair was sticking up at funny angles, and his suntanned back rippled with smooth muscles as he hunched over the
West Australian
. Izzy shivered slightly.

‘Where did you get the paper?’ she said as she sat down at the table. She had on her denim shorts and a T-shirt and felt fresh after her shower.

‘From the deli down the road. I ducked out while you were in the shower.’ Will looked across at Izzy, her hair tied neatly into a plait and her face free from make-up. He liked her like this. Natural. He lifted the white mug up to his lips before draining the contents. ‘Well, kiddo, what shall we do today?’

Izzy shrugged. ‘I s’pose I should visit Dad again at some stage. Why? What else did you have in mind?’ She cocked her head and waited.

Will shrugged. ‘Feel like catching a movie before we head home? There’s a few I wouldn’t mind seeing.’ He flicked through the paper to the movie section.

Izzy nodded her head. ‘Yeah, that would be cool.’ She leaned over his arm to look at the paper. ‘What’s on?’

Will looked at her sideways. ‘Just a warning – I’m not watching any crappy chick flick!’ he said sternly. ‘Let’s see what’s on at the Carousel at around eleven. See, there’s a few good ones.’ He pushed the paper over to her. ‘Here, you have a look. I’m gonna have a shower and get ready.’

Izzy watched him put his cup back in the sink, then head off to his room. She was glad everything was back to normal. She was also relieved she hadn’t acted on impulse last night. He had been so damn irresistible, but she’d done the right thing. Their friendship depended on it.

They stopped off at a newsagent later that morning on the way to visit Bill and picked up a few magazines. They didn’t stay with him long because he was about to have his dressings changed. Izzy’s mum was there too, so she got to say goodbye to them both.

‘Did you have a good time last night?’ Jean asked.

‘Yeah. It was great,’ Izzy grinned and then hugged Jean. ‘Now, remember you were going to have some time to yourself too. You really need it, Mum.’

‘Okay, I promise I’ll try but don’t worry about me. You just stay out of trouble at home and call me if you have any problems or you just want to talk. I miss the little chats we’d been having during harvest.’

‘Me too.’

Jean looked at them both. ‘So what are you two up to now?’

‘We’re gonna go catch a movie before we head home. Some soppy chick flick that Will’s picked out,’ Izzy told them before they left.

When they’d gone, Jean turned to Bill and said, ‘I’m so happy to see them getting on. It’s almost like watching Claire and Will together when they were younger.’ Bill had a twinkle in his eyes and nodded his head in agreement. Jean knew he was just happy to see them being civil to each other again, but Jean had the feeling there was something more between them, something perhaps that Izzy and Will didn’t even recognise yet.

Izzy and Will managed to pick a film they both enjoyed,
The Dukes of Hazzard
, and they scoffed a large box of popcorn between them.

‘That was bloody funny. I’ve got sore cheeks from laughing so hard,’ said Izzy as they walked out of the cinema.

‘Shit, yeah. The car chase was awesome. Hey, how about some lunch, Izzy? Does HJ’s sound okay? Don’t know about you, but I’m starvin’ like marvin.’ Will rubbed his belly and licked his lips energetically.

Izzy just rolled her eyes. ‘You’re real mature for a twenty-five-year-old,’ she teased.

‘Nearly twenty-six,’ Will corrected.

Izzy laughed. ‘Even worse.’

Hours later they found themselves approaching the familiar sights of Pingaring. Hungry Jack’s wrappers lay scrunched up on the floor of Will’s ute, among empty water bottles. A bag of jelly babies lay on the seat between them, opened and half empty with a handful of jellies strewn alongside, as if they were making a last-minute run for it.

‘I can’t believe we’re home already. Time’s just flown. I can’t wait to see Tom,’ said Izzy.

Will pulled up next to Izzy’s house just as the sun was starting to make its slow descent to the horizon. The hum of the motor and the excited barks from Tom seemed muffled from inside the ute. Slowly, Izzy pushed open her car door and stretched out her cramped legs. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the fresh air that blew into the ute. ‘There’s nothing like home,’ she said, turning towards Will. ‘I don’t mind the city for a day or two, but it’s good to be back in the clean and wide open spaces.’

Izzy didn’t need to tell him; her huge smile and the sparkle in her eyes easily expressed how much she belonged in this place. ‘I know. I feel exactly the same,’ he said, shifting slightly in his seat. His legs were getting numb from sitting too long.

‘Hey, thanks for the ride and all … you know … it was good,’ she fumbled.

‘Any time, kiddo.’ I had a great time too, he thought, as he watched her climb out of the ute. It had been hard at times, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and experience the thrill of kissing her again, but he wasn’t ready to rock their new friendship. He had ruined too many when he was younger by rushing in without thinking, and he wasn’t going to risk this one. He was sure that, in time, his physical reaction to her would pass. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

He watched her playing energetically with Tom before he backed up the ute and headed home.

‘SO, we’re nearly done, eh? Just about six hundred head to go,’ said the burly head shearer. Brad may have looked a little rough around the edges, but Izzy knew he was a softie. He had been working her dad’s shed for a bloody long time. His greying hair was scruffy and his hard face unshaven. His bulky arms, emblazoned with tattoos from his youth, stood out against his black shearing singlet bearing the name ‘Jackson’s Shearing Team’ in white.

Brad’s shearing team had been going hard for five days and this was their last day. That was if the rain that was predicted didn’t turn up. Izzy watched Brad amble back to his stand, pick up his handpiece and continue attaching a new sharpened cutter. Once on, he clicked it back on the down tube, placed it on the floor, and poured oil over the blades, ready for action.

The remaining three shearers got their gear organised, while the rouseabouts organised their music for the day. As AC/DC’s ‘Dirty Deeds’ blared out on the CD player, Izzy took off her checked shirt and threw it into the corner of the old shearing shed. In her black singlet and dark-blue shearing pants, Izzy stood next to the skirting table ready to do her job as wool classer. She was close to the green hydraulic press, which she would use later to bale up the last of the wool. Leaning against the skirting table, which was black and grimy due to the build-up of dirt and oils from the wool, she surveyed the shed through new eyes. She was the boss of this shed, and everyone was coming to her with queries or problems. Hell, she was loving every minute of it.