Mountain Ash (15 page)

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Authors: Margareta Osborn

BOOK: Mountain Ash
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She put her head down and sewed, trying
not
to think about the handsome and enigmatic cowboy sewing beside her.

Chapter 17

She was in his head. Her smell, the alluring scent of fresh air and flowers, was soaking into his senses and for the life of him he couldn't think what to say to make her talk. He'd never had this kind of trouble before. The lines usually kept rolling out of his mouth, but then most times the girls were more than happy to parley and flirt with him. They knew where they wanted him, just like he knew where he wanted them. In bed – as quick as conventions would allow. But not any more. Thanks to Danielle, he was a changed man. After looking forward to getting to the rodeo and campdraft last night and out of that bloody ute, he hadn't even been in the mood to drink, let alone check out women. He'd had a yarn with a few blokes he'd known from years back, before making polite excuses and getting the hell out of the party area. A date with his swag had seemed like a good idea but then he'd spent half the night tracking satellites across the
sky, wondering where the enigmatic girl he'd met earlier had disappeared to.

It was as though she'd vanished into thin air. She hadn't been at the bar or partying with her mates. He knew because he'd looked everywhere for her. The one thing he hadn't done was actually ask her mates where she was, not wanting to get caught up with their shenanigans. Two of them had ended up dancing on top of the bar where they were offering the fellas a chance to sign their bodies with lipstick. A man just had to buy them a drink. It was about then that Nate had left. As he'd walked back to camp he'd wondered what was wrong with him. Was it really like Wal had said? He was ready to find ‘the one' to spend the rest of his life with? If that was the case, this girl, Ash … well, she had something …

‘Damn it,' the girl beside him uttered, breaking him out of his thoughts.

‘What?'

‘I've managed to sew the back to the front and buggered it all up.' She gave a deep sigh and looked disgusted at herself. The hall was hot and stuffy, which didn't help. There was a frown creasing her forehead, which was beaded with sweat. He noticed a drop of moisture slipping down her cheek to rest at the side of her mouth. He had an overwhelming desire to lick it off.

‘Now I've got to unpick it.' She glared at the offending article.

He wanted to offer to do it for her. To start all over on another piece of material if he had to. To do anything to take that agonised look off her face. What the hell was wrong with him? He hated sewing!

‘Want me to fix it for you?'

Ash cast him a withering glance. ‘No,' she snapped, ‘I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself.' She then tried to temper her words with, ‘Thank you all the same.'

He felt slightly mollified. He was only trying to help, but she was obviously an independent kind of woman. Take how she was here while he knew her mates were getting pissed as newts back at the river. He'd seen them as he'd walked past on the way to look for Wal and his ute.

‘Why are you here?' she said suddenly. ‘I thought you'd be watching the draft.'

Nate felt ridiculously pleased she'd asked him a question. ‘Wal's driving my ute and I needed some stuff out of it.' Like a pair of riding boots so he could try out this horse, Warrior. He'd thrown on old workboots this morning because they'd been the first thing he'd set eyes on when he'd woken up.

‘Are you staying long?'

He knew she was meaning here, at the hall, but he chose to misunderstand her. ‘We're on the way to a job. A bloke who runs a brumby camp program for troubled youth was looking for a couple of extra hands. Wal and I thought we'd help out for a while. He needs some cattle-yards built and some fencing done while they work with the kids.'

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she digested this information. She'd glanced up when he mentioned the word kids. Obviously a maternal type, which was promising. He'd always thought he'd love to have children some day. They usually took to him and he liked them. Wait. What the fuck was he thinking? Kids?! There was seriously something wrong with the wiring of his brain today. Still he waited for her to say something. Anything.

‘That's good of you,' she said, and then she smiled at him.

Oh fuck me. Those dimples of hers appeared on her smooth cheeks so hard and fast you just wanted to go after them with your lips, your tongue. The deep indentations sat on either side and just up from a mouth which was wickedly inviting.

He knew he looked punch drunk, but he was damned if he could do anything about it. When she smiled you felt like saying or doing anything just so she'd keep on beaming right at you. At his stunned expression, Ash's glance had changed from pleasure to puzzlement and she ducked her head down again and concentrated on unpicking her sewing. Although he noted with a small thrill of satisfaction that her fingers quivered slightly. He watched as she ripped the last of the offending stitches loose and re-fed the material into the machine. Her hands were elegant. Long and slim without being bony. Smooth, taut and tanned, a whole lot like the rest of her.

He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the small squares in front of him, but all he could hear was the soft breathing of the woman beside him. He surreptitiously glanced sideways. Her red, lush bottom lip was caught between pearly teeth. He wished he was that lip. He wouldn't mind being caught by that delicious mouth.

‘There,' she said as she ran off the last of her fabric and snipped off the cotton, ‘I'm done for today. And just in time too by the looks of it.'

A woman up the front of the hall clapped her hands and called, ‘Well, ladies … and gentlemen … time to finish for the day. There'll be afternoon tea served in the kitchen once we've all cleaned up. Thank you for participating in our bargello quilting day and we hope you've enjoyed yourselves.'

‘Absolutely, Beryl,' called Wal from the back of the room, which encouraged a few ladies to add, ‘Hear, hear!'

Bloody hell, Wal was a fast worker. It seemed like he knew the names of most of the women in the room. For a man who was resigned to being on his own, he sure did his groundwork well. Nate stood up and cleared his throat to get Ash's attention. ‘Here you go,' he said as he handed over his strips of squares. ‘Hope I've done a good enough job.'

Ash took the fabric without him touching her, which was a shame. Her hands really
were
lovely. Like his mother's, actually: strong and capable but still feminine and fine. Nate shook his head, trying to clear it. Lips, teeth, mouth … now he was ruminating on her
hands.
Next he'd have a thing about her hair. Which, come to think of it, was like a waterfall of yellow sunshine. Long, golden, thick and lovely. Just looking at it made you itch to run your fingers through its silkiness.

‘Thanks for the help. I'll be seeing you.'

Ash's voice broke into his silent contemplation. She was leaving? What? When? How? ‘Ummm … you'll be going back to the showgrounds, won't you?' he improvised. ‘Need a lift?'

He saw her halt a moment and realise that she couldn't be rid of him that quickly – after all, she had come here in
his
ute.

There was a reluctance in her eyes but still she said, ‘Well, yes. That would be nice. It's a bit far to be lugging my Pfaff.'

Her
what?
He watched her bend over to pick up her machine. Oh! Her Pfaff. Silly him. He'd thought she meant her arse. Which, now he got a look at it, was damn nice. She was wearing Ariat jeans with little diamante studs on the sides; they matched her Ariat boots.

But it was as though she wasn't even interested in him, which was perplexing. He knew even thinking like that made him seem an arrogant son-of-a-bitch who expected females to fall all over him. The problem was, they normally did. Or at
least they flirted like crazy. This woman did neither, which on the one hand was driving him up the wall and on the other made her exceedingly attractive.

‘We'll be off then,' said Wal, coming to stand at Nate's side. The old bloke looked happy. He had his partially completed quilt draped over one arm, some strip pieces over the other. A gaggle of ladies were following, calling out, ‘Goodbye, Wallace, so lovely of you to come.' Wal blushed again and muttered to Nate, ‘I mean now. We need to go
now.
'

‘The CWA too much for you, mate?' Nate couldn't help but stir him.

Wal looked affronted. ‘Never. My sister's a proud member of their sorority. It's Beryl I'm scared of. Now move it, young Nate.'

‘Wallace! Wallace!' The woman who'd addressed the hall earlier rushed up. ‘You'll come back next week to our regular quilting day? You can finish your bargello. Perhaps we can have dinner afterwards?'

The old man looked so pained Nate thought he'd better rescue him. ‘We'll be gone from Riverton by then, ma'am. We're heading to work at a property out in the sticks and I won't be able to spare Wal. I drive him pretty hard.'

Beryl's smile dropped like a rock. ‘Young man, you really need to take care of a fellow Wallace's age.'

Wal looked horrified – it must have been the age thing. Nate grabbed hold of him and dragged him towards the door. ‘I'll remember that. Thank you, Beryl. We'd best be going now. People to see, fabric to sew.'

Ash followed them out the door and when Nate was game and close enough to the ute to let go of Wal's arm, he looked back and could see the woman was battling with laughter.
‘Oh. My. God. Did you see Beryl's face? It was priceless,' said Ash, putting her Pfaff down on the grassy verge and collapsing in giggles. ‘“People to see, fabric to sew.” Oh crikey.'

Both men looked down at her, perplexed.

It took Ash a few moments to get herself together before she went on, ‘Beryl's having a thing with her next-door neighbour Mr Fitz. But she was obviously trying to cut his lunch with you, Wallace. Oh far out. A woman of her age.'

‘What do you mean, “her age”?' Wal got all antsy. ‘She can't be much older than me?'

‘She's seventy-eight! I heard her telling one of the other ladies,' said Ash.

Wal looked stunned. ‘Well, I'll be. The old cougar!'

‘Exactly,' said Ash, bursting into giggles again.

‘So why is it okay for an older man to pick up a much younger woman, but not the other way round?' Nate suddenly blurted out.

Both Ash and Wal stared at him.

‘I'm serious. What's the difference?'

Ash stopped mid laugh and looked thoughtful. ‘There's not much difference at all, I guess. Just public perception.'

Nate thought about his father and the younger woman he'd taken up with and felt his animosity swell. ‘Exactly. It's still pretty off. Especially if the older man or woman is well to do. Rich even. It has to be about the money because in Beryl's case it sure as hell can't be about the looks.' And the same went for his father, he silently added.

Nate could see by the expression on Wal's face he knew where his mate was going.

Ash, for her part, seemed a bit stunned at Nate's ferocity. Her cheeks were starting to flush and she was squinting those
lovely eyes and pursing her full lips. He must have said something wrong, damn it. And he'd been doing so well.

Time to tighten up the show. Get his pursuit of Ash back on track.
Pursuit? So that's what it is, is it? And I thought we were waiting for ‘the one'?
He dismissed the persistent voice in his head.

You never knew.

Maybe she
was
the one.

Chapter 18

The line for the showers snaked down the stairs and around the back of the big trailer. Girls laughed and chatted as they waited for a stall to come free.

‘Knowing our luck they'll run out of hot water by the time we get to the front of the line,' grumbled Stace. She took another swig from a can of soft drink. ‘Anyway, who said we needed a shower?'

‘You mightn't, but I do,' said Jodie. ‘After sitting in that hall melting all day I need to freshen up.'

‘Yeah, right. You just want to look gorgeous for Mr Hotshot Cowboy over there.' Stacey nodded in the direction of Nate, who was across the paddock talking to a man in a big Stetson hat. He kept glancing at the trailer, seemingly to check the girls were still there.

‘You're just jealous,' stirred Jodie.

‘Too right I'm jealous. You aren't even really interested in the man and still on he comes. I'm actively looking for a lay and I can't pull one!'

Jodie shook her head. Poor Stace. She was loud, boisterous and full of cheek, but underneath the brash exterior was a girl who just wanted to be loved by a nice bloke. She'd make someone a wonderful wife one day. But until then, she frightened more men away than she attracted.

‘Perhaps tonight will be your big night. Mr Prince Charming of Riverton will lay down his ermine cloak and ravish you witless,' suggested Jodie.

Stacey guffawed. ‘The only Prince Charming around here is the one you've got crooked around your little finger. Oh look, here he comes.'

‘Ladies,' said Nate, touching his hat with old-fashioned gallantry, causing the girls standing behind and in front of Jodie to sigh. But he only had eyes for the woman with long golden hair. ‘I was wondering if you'd like to share some tea with Wal and me?'

‘Both of us?' said Stacey, pushing her way into the conversation.

Nate flicked his gaze towards the stocky girl. ‘Yes, of course.'

‘Well in that case we'd love to,' said Stace.

Jodie widened her eyes at her friend. What was she doing? She knew Jodie didn't want to give him any more excuses to hang around them.

‘You haven't got any other friends here with you, have you?' asked Stace. ‘Younger than Wal?'

Nate laughed. ‘Not at the minute. Wal's got our new boss Dan coming tomorrow arvie or Monday. That help?'

Stacey grimaced. ‘Nup. Oh well, guess I'll have to share you with Ashie.'

‘Ummm … Stace …'

‘I'm joking, I'm joking … I know when I'm not wanted. Ashie, I'm giving the shower a miss. See ya back at the ute. Ta-ta, Nate, don't be late for our dinner date.' She waggled her fingers and sauntered off.

‘Ignore her,' said Jodie. ‘She's incorrigible.'

‘And you're not?'

‘I can be, if I want to.' What was she doing flirting with him? ‘I'd like to see that sometime.' His eyes smiled all warm and gooey.

‘If you're lucky.' Stop it, Jodie.

Nate chuckled, took her towel and threw it over his shoulder. Then lifted her up into his arms.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Getting lucky.' He turned and walked off. A dozen or so women yelled and cat-called after them as Nate carried her across the paddock.

‘Put me down!' she demanded, although it was the last thing she wanted him to do. She could feel the beat of his heart against the side of her breast, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms. It felt glorious.

‘You seriously don't want me to do that right now.'

Jodie looked down. He was walking through a big patch of stinging nettles and thistles. She had bare feet. She glanced up again. The man was grinning. He was loving this.

‘Okay, well, put me down over there.' She pointed to a nice green spot ten metres on.

‘What'll you give me?'

Jodie spluttered. ‘A kick up the arse?'

‘No deal.' He twitched his nose and kept striding across the paddock, an iron grip on her body.

‘Where are you taking me?'

‘Somewhere cold and dark, where you'll be ravished by Mr Prince Charming of Riverton.' The man grinned wickedly.

Oh God, he'd heard them. ‘That was Stacey, not me.'

‘So you're the Virgin Mary, are you? Not interested in any Prince Charmings?'

‘Not when they're as sinfully good-looking as you. Trouble is your middle name.'

Nate grimaced. ‘I don't make it a habit of carting girls away from shower blocks.'

‘So why are you doing it now?'

‘Because I'm hungry, I'd really like my tea soon, and this shower block here is vacant.' He dumped her on the ground, handed her the bath towel and indicated the small building in front of him. ‘I thought you might prefer having a shower now to waiting for the other one to be free.'

Jodie looked around. It was an old forgotten showground's shower and toilet. There wasn't another woman in sight.

‘Well, thank you.'

Nate's sky-blue eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘And so now I've put you down, what do I get?'

Jodie was at a loss what to say. The man was gorgeous and she didn't know how to stop herself from wanting to jump right back into those arms.

‘I could scrub your back?' Nate prompted.

Jodie smiled, shook her head. ‘Finding me a shower isn't big enough for that.'

‘A kiss, maybe?'

‘Not that either.'

Nate frowned and scratched his head. ‘Tell you what. Tomorrow morning they've got some games going on. It's an
iron-man classic. You and Stace against Wal and me. If we win, I get to kiss you. If you win, I'll kiss Stace. Deal?'

Jodie wasn't too sure how she felt about that. If anyone was going to kiss those beautiful lips it was going to be her. No! I'm
taken!
‘If Stace agrees, you're on.'

Nate doffed his hat. ‘Get ready to be ravished on the morrow, Ms Ash. I'll see you for tea. Enjoy your shower.'

And off he sauntered, leaving Jodie staring after him. He's too damned cocky by half, she thought. She'd even forgotten to ask what the games were, so intent had she been on those damn lips. That body. Those eyes. That smile.

Oh God. She was
really
in trouble.

‘What sort of games?' grumbled Stacey a couple of hours later as they walked towards where a band was playing in the arena. ‘I hate games. I could never pin the tail on the donkey cause he was an ass. Get it? An ass.' The girl screamed with laughter. She was drunk. Obviously that can of soft drink she'd been sipping earlier had been liberally laced with alcohol. Jodie sighed. She probably should have been drunk too. There was no more a wet blanket to a party than a sober one.

‘Hey, girls, wanna join our party?' A bloke holding a loudhailer was calling across at them. A ute behind him had a frame set up on its tray-back. Six fuel funnels were clipped to the top of the tall structure, tubing running from the holes at the bottom of the funnels. A tap was at the end of each metre-long tube. Currently five people lay under the taps, mouths open, waiting for the beer to start running. They obviously needed one more player.

‘I'll do it!' yelled Stace.

Jodie went to grab her arm to stop her, but the younger girl was quick off the mark. She was lying on the ground under the last funnel before Jodie could blink.

‘Ready, set,
go!
' roared the bloke with the loudhailer.

Fellas were pouring beer into the funnels at the top as fast as those at the bottom would drink. Faster actually, thought Jodie, as she braved the amber liquid that was spraying everywhere to try to drag Stacey out. ‘C'mon, Stace, you'll drown.'

But the girl was oblivious. ‘Send it down, Huey!' she yelled to the bloke pouring beer through her funnel.

Jodie gave up and went to walk away when Wal appeared at her side. ‘You drag her out and I'll jump in.'

‘She won't like that,' said Jodie. ‘We're probably better to just let her drown.'

Stacey was now wet as a shag with froth and bubbles. Spluttering too, as someone had turned on the tap again. There seemed to be some kind of time trial involved. One minute on, one minute off. The person who lasted the longest won.

‘I'll grab her,' said Nate. He'd reappeared from taking a leak.

He dashed into the fray and dragged Stacey out by her feet.

‘Let me go!' yelled the girl. ‘I want more beer.'

‘You can't,' said Nate. ‘It's Wal's turn and, what's more, if I'm going to kiss you tomorrow I'd prefer you didn't stink like a brewery.'

Stacey blinked at him. ‘Kiss me?'

Jodie sighed. ‘That's the bet with the games tomorrow. They win, he kisses me. We win, he kisses you.'

Stacey looked confused and a bit miffed. ‘I'm not sure I get that.'

Nate picked her up. ‘I wouldn't worry, sunshine. I'll be kissing Ashie here.'

‘Of all the luck.' Stacey shook her head. ‘Put me back then, I want my beer.'

‘Too late, Wal's got it.'

Both girls glanced across at the drinking board and, sure enough, there was Wal, lying on the ground, gummy pink lips open and gushing with amber fluid.

Jodie rolled her eyes. ‘I'm going to bed.'

‘Dance with me first?' Nate was beside her in a flash and staring down into her eyes. He must have seen the indecision on her face. ‘Just one. You at least owe me that for getting you a shower.'

Jodie laughed. ‘I thought tomorrow was pay day.'

‘I'm just getting in early, in case I lose.'

‘You won't lose,' said Jodie. Correction. She didn't
want
him to lose.

Nate waggled his head. ‘Don't be too sure about that. I might want to snog the brewery here.'

Stacey curled her lips. ‘As if I'm gunna kiss you after what you just done. The beer was mine, not his! I'm going to bed,' she finished in disgust. ‘I'll get you back tomorrow, cowboy. Bring on those games!' She stalked off.

‘I think my friend might be a little upset.' Jodie laughed.

‘As long as I still get my dance, I can deal with that.' Nate took her hand and drew her towards the music. After a hundred metres or so he ducked into a quiet area beside the main grandstand. ‘Let's not go into the arena. We can dance out here.' He pulled her in close, took hold of her hand. Slung his other arm around her body, tucked her head under his chin and swayed to and fro. She could feel the whole length of him against her. He was hard,
muscular and strong. Warmth radiated from his limbs like that from a well-banked fire. She could hear him softly humming under his breath to the Lee Kernaghan song being played by the band. She thought it might be ‘High', and that was how she felt. High on his scent, his touch, his obvious desire for her. She sank into the music, into the man, and just let herself enjoy the feeling of being held.

That was until the music ended. And the dance stopped. Reality was like a cold shower. She shouldn't be doing this. She just shouldn't. Take a look at the man: he's a
cowboy
. Jodie broke from his arms, smiling to hide her dismay. ‘Thanks for the dance,' she burbled. ‘I'd best go check on Stace. See you tomorrow.'

She took off, running, so he wouldn't be inclined to follow.

The last glimpse she saw of Nate as she bolted back towards Stacey's Crewman was the shadow of a tall cowboy standing motionless right where she'd left him.

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