Outback Sisters (6 page)

‘Aren't you going to ask me how it was? What he was like?' Simone was practically bouncing in the seat.

‘How was it?' Frankie feigned enthusiasm. ‘What was he like?' Of course, she already knew the answer to the latter question. In the few moments she'd spent with him, she'd seen enough to know that Logan Knight was like no other guy. They mightn't have shared the world's longest conversation but, be it female intuition or whatever, she knew he was much more than a hot body and a handsome face. ‘Did he wonder why you spent so long in the toilet?'

Simone tried to scowl but couldn't bring herself to do so. ‘Oh, I honestly don't know where to start. I've had the best night in forever.' She leaned back against her cushions and positively beamed. ‘We shared a piece of apple pie.'

‘What?' That made Frankie sit up straight. ‘But you won't even share dessert with me.'

Simone laughed. ‘I know. This was worth the sacrifice.'

Frankie felt a little sick. ‘Did he, like …
feed
it to you?'

‘No, nothing like that. We had two spoons, but they did clink occasionally and it just felt … intimate. He's such a spunk, which of course you know.' Simone nudged Frankie like this was hilarious.

She nodded half-heartedly. The thought of Logan and Simone sharing dessert reminded Frankie of the kiss. Had Logan mentioned it? She couldn't bring herself to ask for fear of heat rising in her cheeks, giving her ridiculous feelings away.

‘But there's such depth to him too,' Simone added. ‘We had a fascinating conversation about his work. He's a really intelligent guy.'

‘I guess the question is—' Frankie felt like it needed to be asked ‘—if he's so perfect, why does he need a dating site?'

Simone was quiet a moment, then, ‘I take your point, but he travels a lot for work and while that means he meets his fair share of women, long-distance relationships aren't a walk in the park. You and I both know how hard it is to meet people.'

‘The right people anyway,' Frankie agreed, thinking of her last attempt at serious. What a train wreck that had been.
Stop being such a wet blanket
. ‘I'm sorry, I'm not trying to rain on your parade, I'm just tired. It's been a long week.'

‘That's okay. I'm actually exhausted too. It was hard to keep up my side of the conversation without slipping up and sounding like I didn't know something I should.' Simone groaned. ‘At one point I asked him if his parents still lived on the farm and he reminded me they are dead.'

‘Oh God. The poor bloke. You didn't?'

‘It's not my fault. I didn't know! I honestly wished the floor would open and swallow me. I felt terrible and of course I couldn't ask for details because, well …'

Frankie nodded. ‘Yes, I see your dilemma. So, are you going to see him again then?'

‘Is the Pope Catholic? I'm not going to let a man like him slip through my fingers. I know it seems sudden but everything happens for a reason and I don't want to be alone forever. Besides, I owe it to the girls to give it my best shot. He's away next week covering some event in Broome but then he'll be back on the farm for a few days. We've arranged to have lunch at the café.'

‘
My
café?' Frankie's stomach flipped at the memory of exactly what had happened in her café that afternoon.

Simone frowned. ‘Of course—it's the best around, isn't it? So I've got just over a week to do my research. I'm studying Logan Knight and I plan on topping the class. An A-plus for me, little sister. You want to help?'

‘What? How?'

‘You can be my study partner, read through our emails as well, in case I've missed anything vital.'

Frankie felt as if she'd already read enough. ‘Did he say much about his brother at all? Maybe we can double date.' She forced a laugh at the thought.

‘Oh yes, his name's Angus—but don't go getting your hopes up. He sounds like a bit of a grump. I'll have to engineer a meeting and check him out before I consider setting him up with my best sister.'

Although Frankie appreciated Simone's sentiment, the phrase ‘beggars can't be choosers' immediately came to mind. Besides, if Angus shared the same DNA as Logan, he couldn't be
that
bad. Could he? ‘Thanks,' she said, although she felt anything but thankful.

‘But hey, if he's not a possibility, maybe you could sign up to online dating as well? It worked for me, right?'

The mere thought made Frankie's skull pound. Simone seemed to have forgotten that it wasn't even her who had done the work—three hours ago she'd been threatening to murder her daughters for it. Deciding it was time to make a move, she stretched her legs out in front of her. ‘I'd better be going. I'm glad you had a good night.'

‘You can't go yet,' Simone objected. ‘Why don't you stay the night? We can grab a bottle of wine, take it into my bedroom and start our study routine. First thing is finding out when and how Logan's parents died. I'm interested in his relationship history too. Did you know he was married?' Simone didn't give Frankie the chance to reply before continuing, ‘Of course you didn't. You spent even less time with him than me. He must have been quite young when they tied the knot. I wonder what happened?'

Frankie stood. Although she was curious to learn more about Logan, she decided that for self-preservation, it was better to keep her distance, so she yawned again. ‘I'm sorry, I'm stuffed, maybe another night. I've got an early start at the café and the cats will be climbing the walls as I haven't been home since this morning.'

Simone shrugged, dismissing this excuse. ‘They've got each other for company.'

‘Unfortunately they haven't yet worked out how to open the cat food,' Frankie said, her tone firm. She leaned down and kissed her sister on the cheek. ‘See you tomorrow?' Rarely a day went by where they weren't in each other's pockets.

‘You betcha,' Simone replied, sounding even more chirpy than usual—and that was saying something. Simone was probably the most positive and optimistic person Frankie knew. Although she'd been through a very dark patch following the death of her husband, she'd eventually made a decision to embrace life and live on for her girls.

Leaving Simone on the couch, Frankie saw herself out, climbed into her hatchback and drove the short distance to her house on the other side of town. As predicted, Fred and George were waiting, peering through the front curtains. She'd barely stepped into the hallway before they were winding themselves around her legs and mewling. She wasn't naive enough to think they'd missed her. Cats only cared about one thing: their stomachs. But Frankie was happy to focus on her pets and on warming up her damn freezing house, anything to distract her from her other thoughts.

On the way to the laundry, she flicked on the reverse-cycle heating, the cats darting in and out around her feet as she made her way down the hallway. She poured some cat biscuits into their bowls and then, because she was feeling generous, opened them a tin of tuna for a treat.

Her heart felt heavy as she brushed her teeth and her eyes were already moist when she began to wash her face. How pathetic. It was stupid to feel like she'd lost something when she'd only met Logan that afternoon. It wasn't like Simone had hooked up with Frankie's ex, or someone she'd been harbouring a secret crush on for years.

‘You need to get a grip,' she told her reflection in the mirror.

The last thing she wanted was to strain her cherished relationship with her sister because of some guy she didn't really even know.

Logan couldn't bring himself to do anything more than kiss Simone on the cheek when he'd bid her goodnight. It had been a good night—the most fun he'd had in ages—and they'd talked easily right up until he'd walked her out to her beaten-up old four-wheel drive, but somehow it felt wrong to kiss both sisters on the same day.

As he walked back to the café where he'd left his ute, the cool August air blew against his face and the street lights of Bunyip Bay shone down upon him and he wondered again whether Frankie had told Simone about his little gaffe that afternoon. He hadn't dared ask—maybe she'd been too embarrassed to mention it. If they ever got serious, it'd probably be one of those stories that reared its head every Christmas, something he'd never be able to live down. He chuckled at the thought—longing for the normality of such a family gathering again.

He climbed into his ute, turned the heating up full bore and then slowly reversed out of his car space. The dulcet tones of the narrator of the audio book he was listening to washed over him as he headed down the main street towards the Brand Highway, but as he picked up speed, he found it harder and harder to concentrate on the story. Squinting, he cursed under his breath as the streetlights of town faded behind him and he struggled to see very far ahead. He couldn't believe how soon his symptoms had worsened, especially when it came to night driving.

Shadows flickered on the road but he couldn't make out if they truly were just shadows or something that could be a hazard like a kangaroo bounding across the road. Or worse, another car coming in the other direction. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard he felt his nails digging into his palms. With each passing kilometre, what started as a dull ache in his forehead compounded into a throbbing pain until he could no longer continue.

‘Fuck!' Logan slammed the heel of his hand into the steering wheel. The horn blasted but there wasn't a soul around to hear besides him. At this rate, he wouldn't make it home until tomorrow morning. Angry and frustrated, his eyes prickling, he pulled over to the gravel on the edge of the road and killed the engine.

This was not the way he'd hoped to end the day, but he resigned himself to a night in his vehicle with only the warmth of his swag for comfort. It was far too cold to lie in the open air on the ute's tray, so he dragged said swag out and tried to get comfy lying across the passenger's and driver's seats, the hard glass of the window his pillow.

I should have had a beer and taken a room in Bunyip Bay.

Somehow, in the early hours of the morning, despite the gear stick jamming into his side, he managed a few hours' sleep and woke to the sounds of pesky cockatoos flying in flocks overhead and a feeling of ice in his bones. Rubbing his palms up and down his arms, he yawned and glanced out the window, only just able to make out the sun peeking over the horizon through the frosty glass. Still, the low-lying clouds and the mist that painted the landscape took his breath away. There were a few sheep slumbering in a nearby paddock but aside from them, he felt as if he were the only person in the world. Although his muscles ached from his awkward sleeping position, a smile crept onto his face and the darkness that had loomed over him last night didn't seem quite so suffocating.

He packed up his swag, almost froze to death relieving himself behind a tree and then climbed into his ute to continue the drive to Mingenew. Back to the property that had been his parents' pride and joy and was now, he sometimes thought, the only thing that kept his brother going.

It didn't feel long before he slowed the ute at the entrance to the farm. As it always did, his heart stilled a moment at the names on the gate welcoming visitors to K
NIGHT
'
S
H
ILL
, T
REVOR &
C
ELESTE
K
NIGHT
'
S PLACE
. Reminders of his parents were everywhere but nowhere more than here on the sign. Neither he nor Angus nor Olivia had ever raised the possibility of taking it down and replacing it. Somewhere in the last few years they'd stopped talking about their folks—something Logan didn't think healthy but he'd never quite been able to rectify it. He sometimes shared the odd anecdote with Olivia, wanting to keep their parents' memories alive for her, but Angus seemed to prefer to keep all his pain and heartbreak locked up inside.

Sometimes Logan thought about provoking him, pushing him to the edge so that he'd snap, get angry and let it all flow out, but the closest he'd ever got was trying to get him to talk about the future direction of the farm. Their discussion about the potential of wind turbines was the latest point of contention.

With a sigh and a determination not to have a depressing weekend, he continued up the track to the main house. As with all farms, there were wheat storage facilities, near-empty dams, the shearing sheds, workers' quarters and various pieces of old machinery put out to pasture on either side of the track, but they'd always been there and Logan barely noticed them. The only time he ever thought about what the farm looked like was when he was travelling for work and thinking of home, but in the last few months, he'd starting started seeing things differently. Taking more notice of his surroundings before it was too late.

Angus's two red kelpies were the only sign of life in the yard, racing towards Logan's ute as he pulled up under an old gum tree.

‘Hey boys,' he greeted them, chuckling at the way they always barked like he was a stranger. They fancied themselves more as guard dogs than farm dogs, but they were pretty good at both jobs. At the sound of his voice, they quieted and escorted him up onto the verandah, before falling into two heaps on either side of the front door. He yanked off his boots and headed inside.

Although it was at least ten degrees warmer than outside, the house still felt chilly and Logan hurried down the corridor, one destination in mind—the bathroom and a hot shower.

‘Look what the cat dragged in.'

He startled at the sound of Angus's voice as he trekked through to the kitchen and found his brother filling the kettle. ‘Good morning.'

‘Maybe for some.'