Cottonball crowed at two in the morning. He crowed again at three thirty, and he crowed again at eight past five. Sunrise. At least he got it right on the last attempt.
I rolled over and stretched my arms and legs to the four corners of my queen size bed, enjoying the feel of the sheets against my skin. My head sank deeper into the pillow and I wondered how long I could sleep this morning.
Clifford, feeling my movement, jumped off the bed, shook himself and ran to the door, lightly scratching at the paint.
I ignored him, rolling onto my side and snuggled deeper into the pillow.
Woof!
“Can’t we just have five more minutes?” I opened one eye and glared at him.
Woof, woof!
Ugh!
I hadn’t slept well and not just because of Cottonball’s crowing and Polly’s squawking in between times. The dynamic in the town hall had been so diverse it had left me in a spin. It had been a restless sleep filled with strange dreams and tangled sheets.
I rubbed my eyes, reluctantly threw back the doona and padded my way to the door to let Clifford out. He immediately bolted for the kitchen, dancing in circles as he waited for me to let him into the fresh air. Noah had fixed a new lock into place and I pulled back the latch enjoying the clunk of safety it made.
Letting Clifford into the sunshine I took a deep breath and enjoyed the crisp morning air as it filled my lungs. I still had a lot of adjusting to do to my new life, but one of the things I already loved about Dun Roamin’ was the mornings. As the earth released the last of yesterday’s warmth, the new day started full of fresh beginnings and adventures.
A loud wolf whistle from Polly echoed in the silence, startling me. As Polly hadn’t yet succumbed to my bribery she still only whistled whenever Noah was around.
“Tilly!” he called urgently, his long stride purposeful as he crossed the yard.
Damn it. I tugged on the hem of my silky singlet, really wishing that I’d pulled the matching shorts on before I opened the door. Oh well, at least I had undies on.
“Morning,” I mumbled, my cheeks now matching the color of the sky as the sun breached the horizon.
“Polly loves Noah!” Polly called, as Noah continued past her cage toward me. “Polly loves Noah!”
“Are you okay?” I could see the concern etched into his eyes.
“Um, yes. I’m fine! Thanks for asking.”
I held the door open for him as he stepped into the kitchen, his breathing ragged and his jaw tense.
My breath disappeared as his gaze stopped on the bottom hem of my singlet and the corner of his lip turned up in a small smile.
“You know it’s Saturday, right?” he asked.
Last year for Christmas, my mum had purchased me a set of undies with the days of the week written across them, and today I was wearing my Tuesday undies.
“Thank you for the reminder,” I replied, pulling my shoulders straight and tossing my hair over my shoulder. Dad’s advice ran through my mind—when you’re wrong footed, bluff. “I wasn’t expecting company.” I grabbed my hat from the table and used it to cover my girl bits.
“I was about to go out on the tractor when I noticed your house,” Noah’s eyes returned to mine.
“Yes, well, the house has been here for a long time now. I do believe it’s over a hundred years old. Very observant of you to notice it.” I gave him a wry smile.
“No, well, yes. The house has been here for a long time, but that’s not what I noticed. Have you been outside yet?”
“No.”
“I think you should come and have a look.”
Something in his tone made my skin prickle, and not in a good way. “What is it?” My breath hitched.
“Just come and have a look,” he replied, his voice soft.
“Let me grab some pants.” That was a sentence I never thought I’d say out loud to someone at quarter past five in the morning.
I jogged to the bedroom and grabbed the jeans I had worn last night from the laundry basket, hurriedly pulling them on. I noted my hands shook as I attempted to do up the button, but I was unsure whether that was because of the effect Noah had on me, the fact I’d been caught in my not-so-sexy undies, or the fact that something about the house had upset Noah enough for him to bother me at such an early hour.
Once dressed, I took a quick look in the mirror, wiped the dried dribble from my chin and attempted to detangle my hair.
When I went back out to him, Noah was sitting on the kitchen chair, his head in his hands.
“Ready?” I asked.
He looked up, a vulnerability shone back at me, and my breath hitched again.
I thought it must be really unhealthy for a woman my age to stop breathing as many times as I had this morning, but I pushed all of it aside as Noah stood and I followed him to the side of the house, ignoring Polly cursing at me as I passed.
Noah stopped and pointed to the side wall. I gasped and the heart palpitations started.
“Who wrote that?” I choked.
The words GO HOME OR ELSE! were graffitied approximately two feet high. The red spray-painted letters were jagged, and uneven, looking like they had been put there in a hurry, and the sting of the threat hit me hard.
“I don’t know. I’ve already called Doyle. Did you hear anything throughout the night?”
“No. Nothing apart from Cottonball being unusually noisy.” I rubbed my arms where goose bumps had appeared.
“Clifford didn’t stir at any point?”
I thought of the number of times I’d nudged Clifford to stop him snoring. “No.”
We both stood staring at the graffiti, silent in our own thoughts.
It was Wally walking up behind us who broke the silence. “What the heck?” he cursed. “What the bloody hell happened here?” His hands rested on his hips, a familiar red G-string dangling from his fingers contrasted against his dark jeans.
Noah’s gaze flipped to the flimsy briefs. “Gramps did you hear anyone around the house last night or early this morning?”
“No, but I didn’t have my hearing aid in.”
Noah sighed.
“I did hear Polly stir at one point,” I said, remembering.
“What time was that?”
“Um, around three. I’d only just gotten back to sleep before Cottonball woke me. That was three forty-five.”
Noah considered this, before striding toward Polly.
She immediately started her routine of wolf whistles followed by her chant, “Polly loves Noah.” Her glorious yellow crest rose and fell as she bobbed on her perch.
Noah’s long fingers stretched toward her as he lovingly stroked her feathers and I was sure I heard her purr.
“Polly, was someone here last night?” Noah asked.
She nodded and bounced on her branch.
“Was it a man? Or was it a woman?” he asked.
“She’s a bird,” I reminded Noah. “I don’t think she can actually tell you who was here.”
With that, Polly ran toward me, stuck her tail feathers in the air, and showed me the moon, all the while singing, “You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot.” Well, that was nothing new.
Noah flashed me a grin. “She’s smarter than you think.”
Obviously.
“So, Polly.” He opened the door to the aviary. She immediately jumped on his arm and then moved to his shoulder, where she fluffed her chest feathers, and lifted her crest, excitedly dancing up and down.
“She reminds me of Janie,” I mumbled thinking of the display I’d seen the night before.
“What’s that?” Noah asked.
“Nothing. I just think Polly is a bit of a floozy in the way she flirts with you.”
“Polly loves Noah,” she sang, spinning in circles.
I sighed and crossed my arms, a headache starting behind my eyes. “I haven’t even had my morning coffee yet,” I complained.
“Polly did you see a man here last night?” Noah asked her.
“Nut-uh.”
“Did you see a woman here?”
“Nut-uh.”
“Did you see anyone here?”
“Polly loves Noah,” she cooed, nuzzling his ear.
I’d heard enough. I spun on my heel and made my way back into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on as I went in.
The others followed me in.
“Gramps, is there a reason you’re carrying a G-string around with you?” Noah asked as Wally dropped the garment on the table.
“Yeah, I wrestled them from Goatie this morning. I figured they belonged to Tilly as they didn’t look your size.”
Noah laughed as I blushed, rushing to the table to scoop the briefs and shoved them into my jeans pocket.
Bloody Goatie.
“You need to peg your underwear nice and high on the clothesline where she can’t reach them,” Wally explained.
“They weren’t on the line. I haven’t done any washing yet so last I knew they were still in the basket.”
Wally grimaced, rolling his teeth. “Excuse me a minute,” he mumbled and wandered to the kitchen sink and gave his hands a thorough wash.
If you could die from embarrassment, they’d be zipping up my body bag.
“Do you think the writing on the house was just a prank?” I asked Noah, desperate to move away from the topic of my knickers.
He shrugged and rubbed his face. “Maybe. I just don’t know who would have done it.”
“I pretty much met the entire district last night.” I handed him my favorite cup filled to the brim with the heady scent of coffee. “Janie has already taken a dislike to me.”
“Janie isn’t a fan of anyone’s,” he replied.
“She’s a fan of yours.”
He flashed a grin, before hiding it behind his cup and taking a sip of coffee.
“It’s not the first weird thing to happen since I’ve been here,” I continued. “There was the radio going off, the mysterious basket of scones, Ruby somehow getting into Matilda’s bedroom.” I counted off my fingers as I spoke.
“The radio thing?” Noah asked.
“Yeah. The first night I stayed here we had that storm. The radio came on all on its own. Oh, and then Matilda’s hat appeared.”
“Hat?”
“Yep.” I quickly explained what happened that night.
When I finished Noah stared into his cup, lost in thought.
“Well, the radio could be explained by a power surge during the storm. But the hat?” He scratched his head. “The wind, maybe? Perhaps a draft blew it there? As for the rest of it, yeah it might just be someone playing a joke. I just don’t know why.”
Wally dried his hands and re-joined the conversation. “It might be a joke, or maybe someone actually does want Tilly to leave.” He accepted the cup I held out to him. “I could name more than one person who would have a motive for that.”
“Motive for what?” came a deep voice from the doorway.
I spun to see Doyle frowning at us.
Geez, this man had a habit of creeping up on me.
“Doyle,” Noah said, standing. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t hear you pull up.”
“I see the front steps are out of action.” Doyle was in full police uniform, complete with a gun belt and Taser. “I wondered how long the old timber would hold out for.”
“Fixing them is on my to do list,” Noah said, thankfully not mentioning how they broke.
My tail bone still ached at the memory.
“Would you like a coffee?”
“That would be lovely.”
I left Noah and Wally to show him the graffiti while I made more coffee and found a container of cupcakes to offer them. I didn’t bother to take it outside, instead I used the time before they reappeared to hurriedly get dressed properly and slap on some make up.
The bathroom window opened to the side of the house they were looking at, and as I quickly brushed my teeth, I heard their murmurs over who could have done it. Wally mentioned Marshall, the head of the Arts Society, and Noah mentioned Blake Emerson. I wiped my face on my plush pink towel, pushed the window all the way open and suggested Janie. Again. And I also reminded them that Callie hadn’t seemed all that impressed that another baker was in town.
Thinking about the list depressed me. I’d only been here a short period of time and already four people could have potentially vandalized my house in order to get me to leave. What exactly had I done wrong for this to happen?
“Hey guys,” I called. All three turned to look at me as I stuck my head out of the window. “I can understand Marshall having a reason to see me gone, but why would Blake?”
“It’s no secret that Blake and Marshall are friends,” replied Noah.
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “Marshall didn’t seem so keen on Blake’s proposal at the meeting last night.”
“Don’t be fooled by Marshall. He’s a player who will say and do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”
“Even if what he wants is mine?” I asked, gulping. My opinion of Marshall had taken a sudden turn south.
“Well now, Marshall has never done anything illegal,” added Doyle, his feet kicking up a small cloud of dust.
“He’s just never been caught,” snarled Wally.
“And if they are friends?” I asked Noah. “Why would Blake want to write that on my wall?”
“Marshall knows that if you renege on the agreement of Matilda’s will, then the Arts Society benefit. They need the money. They’d sell this place in a heartbeat.”
“And Blake wants the commission from the sale,” I finished.
That was a pretty big motive to want me gone.
“Now Noah, you can’t go around making assumptions like that,” Doyle cut in.
“Hey, it’s just my opinion, and last time I checked an opinion wasn’t illegal,” Noah replied.
“You’re not denying that Noah could be right, though,” Wally countered.
Doyle sighed loudly. “Look, I’ll ask around. See what I can find out. But my guess is someone’s just messing with Tilly. That it’s just a harmless prank.”
I hoped he was right, because the thought that someone out there wanted me gone, was a little bit scary for a woman trying her hardest to stick out this new life.