Sunday was a rare bubble of quiet in Lou’s life. Nothing open, nothing to do after she spent a couple of hours on her laptop, arranging leave and handing over critical pieces of work to her second-in-command. She found herself wandering Sunset Downs in Piper’s wake. The girl was the most enthusiastic tour guide she had ever encountered. All of Piper’s economy of movement and speech disappeared when she was out and about on the property. She became a lover – waxing lyrical about the physical beauty of the place, sure, but also about its processes and products. She showed Lou the feed sheds like other girls her age might show off a new dress, as she explained Gage’s strategy for getting through the drought. ‘We’ll be right,’ she said. ‘Dad’s got things sorted, as much as anyone can. We’re already getting along better than most.’
Then Piper took Lou to the experimental paddocks, where Gage was trialling hardy new crops like guar, a legume native to the desert regions of India and Pakistan. She beamed as she showed Lou the green stalks and told her: ‘They use it all, y’know, the protein, hulls, endosperm – all of it.’
Lou nodded like she knew what endosperm was.
Piper was full of agricultural knowledge and it became quickly apparent that she had worked beside her father almost from the moment she could walk, listening, absorbing and becoming authoritative on every subject from weather patterns to international trade. As they walked to the horses’ paddock, she even told Lou about deciding to leave school. She knew exactly what she wanted to be, and how to go about it. She was continuing her study in agriculture and horticulture via distance education. She told Lou she dreamed of working the property with her father and, in time, opening a restaurant there, relying solely on local produce. When Lou asked her why she couldn’t wait until after school, Piper’s face darkened. ‘I don’t like young people,’ she said shortly. ‘They’re irresponsible.’
Oh man, if only Piper had known Gage back in the day.
‘And they’re mean,’ she continued, jumping on a horse and racing it around the pen.
Lou knew damn sure that was the truth. She tried to imagine what variety of mean Piper had been subjected to, the only child of Gage Westin and the granddaughter of Bo. Growing up with two taciturn men might have made Piper a little less than tolerant for some of the antics of her schoolmates, and she must have seemed very different to the other kids. Lou’s heart ached as she watched the girl whip around the pen like the devil was at her back. The ride seemed to improve her mood.
‘Animals are never mean – never!’ she called, then she vaulted from the animal like she was a circus girl and landed neatly at Lou’s feet, red-faced and panting, but her eyes flashing with joy.
‘Not all young people are mean,’ Lou started, wanting to convince this girl of … something.
‘Hmm,’ Piper had said shortly, waving her hand as though the conversation was done. ‘Maybe, but I never met many of those ones. Least not at school.’ She paused. ‘That’s not quite true, maybe one.’ Then she waved her hand around again, to indicate the property. ‘Some of the ones I met here are okay. Jackaroo’s kids and that kind of thing.’ Her face was so open and so honest, and Lou reflected that she knew quite a lot, for someone who was only seventeen.
Suddenly it was Monday, and already Skye had been discharged. There she was, sitting on the veranda, braiding Piper’s hair. Lou knew she shouldn’t be wishing her mother had stayed in a little longer.
She trudged up the steps, trying to assess how Piper felt about being beautified by Skye. Her eyes were closed and her face serene.
‘Hi Mum,’ Lou said neutrally. ‘You got back early.’
Piper’s eyes flicked open as she heard Lou’s voice. The girl smiled, leaning back against Skye’s knees. She looked much, much younger than she had yesterday, giving Lou the tour of the property. Lou noticed she was wearing a simple cotton dress, and a smear of pink gloss adorned her full, pretty lips. Lou narrowed her eyes at her mother.
Skye smiled. She was sitting on the edge of one of the squatter’s chairs, wearing a pale green dress that tied at her tiny waist. Her legs were crossed, a sparkly flip-flop hanging from one pink-toed foot as she concentrated on the braid. She flicked her eyes over Lou’s tank top and jeans. ‘Bo got me early,’ she said, returning her eyes to the braid. She giggled. ‘I said you were coming, but he said he missed me and I should come home with him.’
‘And what did Dr O’Brien make of that?’
Skye waved her hand as though swatting away a fly. ‘Huh. That old grizzleguts, she’s never happy.’
‘Go figure,’ Lou said, stamping past the two to get to the kitchen. She’d had a restless night, full of dreams that chased and clawed at her, and as a result she’d slept later than she’d planned. ‘Oncologists have such a fun job.’ It was a mean comment, and Lou couldn’t decide what had inspired it. She’d been many things to her mother over the years – a disappointment, a burden, a stranger – but she was sure she’d never been mean. She just didn’t have it in her. Not even on that night that had changed everything. But something hurt about watching Skye sit there with the delightful, unpretentious Piper, braiding her hair and either coercing or inducing her to wear lipstick.
Lou closed her eyes against the memories that the sight conjured. Another time, another little girl leaning against her mother’s legs. Lou knew just how Piper felt – like the sun had deigned to stop by and make friends with you for a while. It was very, very warm in Skye’s orbit. And Lou realised that must go doubly, triply, for a girl who had never had a mother.
Skye widened her eyes at Lou, who realised Piper mustn’t know about the cancer. She felt like kicking herself for the oncologist crack, and looked away, feeling guilty.
‘Your dad still seeing that nice librarian?’ Skye asked. Her voice was sweet and soft, but Lou knew enough about tone to know exactly what she was doing. The question wasn’t meant for Piper at all. And it found its mark, deep in Lou’s tummy.
Lou turned when she heard Piper jump up. ‘I don’t know,’ she snapped, pulling viciously at the braid and grabbing the brush from Skye’s hands. ‘Far’s I know, it’s only been a few dates. Anyway –’ She ran the brush quickly through her hair, doing away with all the tiny remnants of braid. ‘It’s not really any of our business who Gage sees.’
Lou tried not to smile. Piper’s vicious defence of her father was so like Gage – her eyes flashing, her body tensed for the fight, right down to those slender fists that were balled at her sides.
Skye just smiled and started packing away her little sequinned case of ribbons and bands. ‘Still,’ she said when she was done, leaning back in her chair. ‘She seemed like such a nice young thing.’
Did Lou imagine it, or was the emphasis on young? Not her imagination – she could see it in her mother’s eyes. Skye wanted to hurt her.
Lou needed to say something, to make it okay for Piper, but her tummy was still spinning at the news. Gage had a girlfriend.
‘She’s fine, I guess,’ Piper said defiantly, moving far from Skye and settling herself on one of the stairs next to the timber post Lou was leaning against. ‘For a townie.’ She said the word like you might say ‘axe murderer’.
Lou recovered her composure and held out a hand to Piper. ‘Will you help me find some brekky? I’m sure you ate hours ago.’
The question did the trick. Piper looked down at the functional leather watch on her wrist and clucked her tongue. ‘Oh my God, Lou, it’s half nine. Haven’t you eaten yet?’ She rose quickly, a determined look on her face that almost worried Lou after the serious pancake feast she’d been witness to yesterday.
‘Short people don’t need to eat as much as you giants,’ Lou said by way of apology as she followed Piper into the house.
Piper snorted. ‘You’re not a dwarf.’ And she laughed. ‘No offence to dwarves.’
Lou was happy to follow the girl. Now that she had mentioned it, her tummy was starting to rumble, and she was sure Piper would find something to sate it. It also took them both away from Skye. And right now, that was exactly where she wanted to be.
In The Land That Time Forgot, nothing could be done online, and if there was anything worse than a day of filling out forms, Lou now knew what it was: a day filling out forms with her mother in tow. Skye did not understand forms. More than that – they irritated her, with their tiny boxes and their lack of free text options. Completing insurance claims; going through the mill of change of circumstances forms at Centre-link; accompanying Skye to sign police statements; filling out lease applications on her behalf at Baxters Realty. By midday, Lou’s mother was tired, fractious and more than a little bitchy.
‘Thank God,’ Skye groaned as she sucked the dregs from the caramel milkshake Lou had bought her after she had declared she was ‘parched’, and Lou swung Gage’s ute into the long drive. She had felt a little uncomfortable driving it at first, but public transport simply wasn’t a viable option in Stone Mountain and Mr Robinson didn’t drive his cab on Monday. As she circled down by the stables, Lou noticed a big black motorbike lying on its side in a stand of flame trees, and wondered if it belonged to Gage. But it seemed a little showy for his style, and the careless way it had been parked didn’t gel with the way he treated his vehicles either.
Lou pushed the thought away and sighed. ‘I said you could stay at home.’ She looked over at her mother. Skye’s mouth was pulled into a petulant line, and her skin was very pale. Lou reminded herself, for the hundredth time that morning, that her mother was very sick; that this wasn’t just her usual frustration with boring jobs. ‘I could have got authority for ones you needed to sign. Jeez, Mum, you only got out this morning. You need rest.’
‘I’m not dead yet,’ Skye growled as she dug into a silvery purse, flicked down the sun visor and started applying raspberry lipstick to her wide, full mouth.
No such luck, Lou thought, knowing she didn’t quite mean it; a familiar instantaneous flash of guilt bloomed in her. But, on the other hand, she had been required to endure her mother trotting out her well-practised monologue about the overbearing nature of the bureaucracy at every office they had visited. Lou pulled over carefully into the little space near the main house, and turned off the ignition. She closed her eyes and tried to focus more on her mother and less on the overpowering smell of Gage in this damned car. For the last three hours, she’d felt like she was driving around in a bubble of cut-grass, sunshine, clean denim and whatever that spicy deodorant was that Gage favoured. ‘How do you feel, Mum? Do you think you should have a little nap this afternoon? Maybe I should get the doctor to come by?’
‘No,’ she said shortly, sticking her bottom lip out. ‘Bo and I are going fishing this afternoon.’
Fishing? Skye had once said she’d rather shoot herself in the face than date a man whose idea of a good time involved the great outdoors. My, how the mighty had fallen.
Like he had heard his name being taken in vain, Bo appeared from the house as Lou and Skye emerged from the car, Lou weighed down with bags of groceries.
It was the first time Lou had seen Bo since her return to Stone Mountain. He had disappeared sometime after dropping Skye off from the hospital, and Lou couldn’t say she was sorry. Her memories of Gage’s father were far from pleasant. Twenty years ago, when Lou left town for good, Bo could only have been in his early forties but he had seemed far older. He would lurch down to the waterhole occasionally, silent and brooding, usually with a bottle of something tucked under his arm. He would perch himself on the grass and watch the antics of the kids, until Gage noticed him and escorted him away. Or he would sit on the long veranda of the Railway Hotel, a beer propped up in front of him, looking unwashed and full of bad ideas. Even then, looking at Bo, it had been possible to see where Gage got his hot-cowboy good looks, but somehow, with Bo, handsome had turned to seedy and corpulent, and a stain of bitter recklessness had marred his features.
Lou blinked as Bo descended the stairs from the veranda and took the groceries from her. ‘Hello, Louise,’ he said, his voice an older, bittersweet version of Gage’s deep honey. ‘Long time, no see.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You look as pretty as a picture.’ Lou blinked again as she relinquished the groceries in shock and took in Gage’s father. He looked good. Really good. Almost as tall as his son, he was well dressed and clean shaven. His face was squarer than Gage’s; he reminded Lou of a handsome country preacher. His hair was cropped and almost completely grey, but his green eyes were clear and bright and his skin had the tanned vigour of a man who had lived a clean life in the outdoors, which just went to show Mother Nature had a sense of humour. His physique was finely muscled, and he wore simple blue jeans, a checked shirt and brown, elastic-sided boots. The only nod to the life Lou knew Bo had really lived was the presence of deep lines around his eyes and mouth, and a long scar running down one cheek, close to his ear. Lou remembered the origin of that scar. She had seen the newspaper the day after the biggest brawl Stone Mountain had ever seen – Bo frozen in black and white, bloody and dissolute, on its front cover, being hauled away in cuffs.
Gage hadn’t come to school for three days afterwards. Lou remembered, even now, how she had felt for him. She knew what it was like to have an infamous parent.
‘Mr Westin?’ Lou tried hard not to make it sound like a question, but the shock transformation was too much.
‘It’s Bo.’ He laughed, a kind, warm sound. ‘And I don’t blame you for looking so surprised, love. But I guess twenty years is long enough for anyone to clean up their act. Even me.’
Lou shook her head and tried to make some apologetic words, but he cut her off.
‘Now don’t worry, Louise,’ Bo said, holding out a hand to Skye, who took it like a blushing bride. ‘I get it.’ He started up the steps, Skye’s hand in one of his, the groceries in his other. He stopped and turned back. ‘Didn’t take me quite twenty years.’ He laughed again and Lou felt like the young Marty McFly in Back to the Future, when he sees the new reality of his successful parents, and feels the world has turned some revolutions while he wasn’t looking. ‘It was Gage. After Pip was born, he told me I could clean up or fuck off for good.’
Skye laughed a can-you-imagine tinkle. ‘I’m sure he was kidding, Bo, honey,’ she said, oozing adoration all over him. ‘It’s your place, after all.’
‘It’s more his place than it ever was mine,’ Bo said, bringing Skye’s hand to his face and rubbing it against his cheek in a gesture so affectionate, and so like the one Gage had used on Lou after the reunion, that she almost stopped breathing. ‘Anyway.’ He lowered Skye’s hand again, still gripping it like it held the answer to all the perplexing questions of the universe. ‘Best thing he ever did.’ He started up the stairs again. ‘Coming in for lunch, Louise?’
‘Ah …’ Lou tried to remember what she had been about to do when the shock of Bo Mark II had descended on her. She blinked while her brain caught up. ‘Thanks, but I need to head into town to see Dad.’ Bo and Skye hit the veranda and turned back to her. She motioned to the groceries. ‘Would you mind unpacking those for me? I need to grab a few things before I leave.’ She motioned to the guesthouse.
‘No problem.’ Bo grinned, wrapping an arm around Skye. Lou considered them, standing on the veranda like the lord and lady of the manor. Her mother had a distinctly cat-thatgot-the-cream look on her face. They made a handsome couple. ‘Would you mind letting Gage and Pip know I’m making lunch?’ Bo waved at the stables. ‘I saw Gage heading that way earlier. And I have no doubt my girl’s down there somewhere too.’ It was impossible to miss the affection in Bo’s voice as he talked about Piper. Even from her vantage point on the drive, Lou saw the way his face creased in a smile.
‘Sure,’ she agreed, the world starting to right itself again under her feet. She hesitated. ‘It’s great to see you, Mis–’ She stopped herself. ‘Bo.’ She took them in again, arm in arm on the veranda, and tried to imagine what it would have been like, for her and for Gage, if that was how they had been, when they were growing up. ‘You look great.’
‘Thanks, Louise.’ He gave her another handsome-preacher smile, and the full force of it hit Lou like a gust of wind. Wow. Had some ancestor of the Westins mated with a god?
Lou turned around and made for the stables, a little annoyed that she had to seek Gage out as instructed. He was disruptive to her equilibrium and she had been kind of hoping to escape without seeing him.
Except part of her always hoped to see him. An errant, seventeen-year-old-girl part; a part that just needed to grow up. She had missed him this morning with her late wake-up, and as she reached the stable door she wondered what time his day had started.
Lou heard a noise inside the stables as she pushed at the door gently and peeked in. Horses freaked her out a little, and she was always careful to go quietly and slowly around them; something about their size and wildness. She had no doubt horses seemed pretty big even when you were a Stone Mountain giant, but when you were as small as she was, they were like unpredictable creatures from a fairy tale. She held her breath as she peeked into the darkness.
But it wasn’t Gage she saw.
Piper was pressed against one of the stalls, in a frozen moment so preoccupying that Lou’s entrance went unnoticed. She wasn’t alone. A dark head obscured her face, and her white singlet top was rucked up around her collarbones, a big hand at her breasts, another hand hidden behind her body.
Lou’s brain whizzed with confusion. Who was this boy? He was tall and long; at least as tall as Gage, but rangier. He had the big-boned rawness of a young man who hadn’t yet grown into his skin, like a Great Dane puppy. He wore tight black jeans and steel-capped boots. He sported a full bushranger beard and it made him look much older than Piper. Piper’s hands were inside his tight black T-shirt that peeped out from underneath a dark denim jacket. Lou stood at the door, petrified by surprise, and she could hear the unmistakeable sounds of low moaning. They were having a really good time.
Like she was stepping on land mines, Lou slowly, carefully, withdrew herself, shutting the door quietly but not all the way, lest she alert them to her presence. As she turned around, blowing her breath out with relief, she bumped against another body.
‘Gage,’ she breathed, not exactly sure what to do but knowing that she couldn’t betray what was going on inside to Piper’s father.
‘What’s wrong?’ Gage’s voice was hard and low. He was dressed in his usual uniform, except he was wearing a broad, cowboy-style hat and carrying a shotgun. She could hardly make out his eyes under the hat, but it made his jaw look even squarer and more determined. Lou tried not to swoon and blinked several times to make sure she wasn’t having some misplaced cowboy fantasy.
‘Nothing,’ Lou squeaked, trying to edge him away from the stable door.
‘Hmm,’ Gage said shortly, looking like he didn’t believe her for a moment. ‘Whose bike is that?’ He motioned to the flame trees and the wild black thing sprawled under them.
‘It’s not yours?’
Gage’s jaw set. ‘I’m looking for Pip, have you seen her?’
‘No.’ Lou’s brain scrambled hard, Wile E. Coyote running in midair after having fallen off the cliff. She moved her body between Gage and the stable door. ‘Er, no, don’t think so.’
Gage stepped closer and tipped his hat back, examining her face. His proximity addled her mind the way it always did, filling up her senses with the smell and sounds of him. He pointed to the stables and frowned. ‘She’s not in there?’
Lou studied the ground and shook her head. ‘Uh-uh.’
A soft sigh escaped the stable like a balloon slipping from a child’s fingers.
Gage scowled and grasped Lou’s shoulders, picking her up a little like he had at the reunion and moving her roughly to the side. Then he kicked the door open and stepped into the stables.
‘Get away from her,’ he barked at the young man as he broke away from Piper. Lou slid in behind him, murmuring a quiet ‘Gage’ to try to pull him back from wherever it was he had landed.
‘Dad!’ Piper hurried towards her father, flushed and dishevelled, straightening her top. Released from the clench with Piper, it was clear the boy was older than Lou had first imagined. In fact, he wasn’t a boy at all – he was probably in his mid-twenties. He was handsome, in a smooth, trendy way. He wore a black biker-style beanie with the words Chick Magnet written on it and his hair looked to be slicked into the kind of quiff that Lou recognised from the Sydney scene, but there was also a strength behind his swagger, something in the way he moved that suggested an ease in his body, a facility and power. He seemed unperturbed to be facing down Piper’s father and his big gun.
‘Hey.’ He grinned, running his hand across his mouth as though to emphasise what he’d just been doing with it. There was something about him – something casual and deliberate and cocky – that unsettled Lou as she watched the unfolding scene. ‘You must be Piper’s old man.’ He grinned nastily. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’
A horse whinnied piteously in one of the stalls.
‘Well,’ Gage drawled slowly, and something about the slow, lazy way he rolled it out made the hairs on Lou’s arms stand on end. ‘You’ve got one up on me, son, because I have no idea who you must be.’
‘Dad, this is my friend, Ja–’ Piper’s voice was higher and breathier than normal.
‘Friends call at the house,’ Gage barked. ‘Friends introduce themselves. Friends –’ He stopped like he was gathering his thoughts. ‘Friends fall into roughly the same age bracket.’ He stalked closer to the young man, who was standing still, but with a slight grin still playing around his lips. ‘Friends don’t put their hands up your shirt.’ He placed the shotgun on a nearby bale of hay and moved closer to the visitor, grabbing him by the front of his probably very expensive jacket.
Lou held her breath, and tried to work out the right way to intervene – a way that would not see Gage knock this interloper’s lights out.
But Gage had other plans. He used one hand to flick the beanie off the boy’s head, which had the effect, finally, of wiping the irritating smirk off his face. Then Gage put his foot on the hat. ‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you take your hat off when you’re talking to a lady?’
The smirk returned, and Lou was unnerved by the newcomer’s steel in the face of Gage’s closeness and fury. Maybe he didn’t realise, like Lou and Piper did, just how good a fighter Gage was. ‘We weren’t doing much talking.’
Several of the stalled horses started to whinny and stamp. Instinct told Lou to step forwards and place a restraining hand on Gage’s shoulder, but he shook it off. Though not before she felt his muscles tense swiftly under her fingers.
‘Get out,’ Gage hissed, tightening his fists on the stiff fabric of the younger man’s jacket and pushing his face closer to the smirk.
‘Dad,’ Piper sobbed, trying to grab his arm.
Gage turned his face slightly to Lou. ‘Can you take her out please?’
Piper seemed to dig in at her father’s words. Her arms clenched at her sides and her feet stood firm in the dirt of the stables. She wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Or what?’ The young man raised his hands, palms up, like he was being perfectly reasonable, then looked at the forgotten shotgun. ‘You going to shoot me or something?’
Gage inclined his head to the side, like he was genuinely considering the question. ‘Or something,’ he said, flicking a glance at Piper. He moved over to the secure box fixed to the stable wall, opened it and locked his weapon inside, each movement slow and deliberate. Then he turned back to Piper’s friend. ‘Trust me, mate, I don’t need a weapon to make you use some manners.’ His voice was so low, gravelly and menacing that Lou wondered if he was going to throw caution to the wind and start beating the hell out of the boy right in front of them. ‘Although I’d really rather not teach you the lesson with ladies present.’
The boy pushed Gage’s hands away from his chest and ambled towards the stable doors like he was completely unmoved by the encounter.
‘Where I come from, we call them women,’ he said slyly as he passed Gage.
Gage’s arm shot out and grabbed a handful of denim jacket then slammed the boy against the stable wall. Piper squealed and Lou wrapped her arms around her, trying to drag her away.
Gage put his face very close to the newcomer’s again, his eyes narrowed to slits, his lips pulled back in a snarl. ‘Where I come from, we call them girls.’ Then he drew his fist back and Lou could see it shaking with the effort of controlling his rage.
‘You really don’t want to fight me,’ the young man purred, looking quizzically at Gage’s raised fist. ‘I got youth on my side.’ He winked and Lou closed her eyes, sure Gage was going to beat him to a pulp. She had seen Gage fight. He had been known for quick fists and an even quicker temper back in the day. Not for twenty years, but there were some things you never forgot.
‘Yeah?’ Gage laughed out loud. ‘And you think that’s a good thing?’ His voice was so low and deadly that Lou tightened her hold on Piper.
The young man shrugged as well as he could. ‘Not a bad thing.’
Gage slowly dropped his hands from the young man’s collar, and made a show of brushing him off. He grinned wolfishly at the young bushranger. ‘You know what I got on my side?’
The boy swallowed hard, like something about the mad glint in Gage’s eyes had finally penetrated his swagger, and shook his head.
Gage smirked. ‘I got a rage.’ He pointed at his chest. ‘When it comes to her –’ He motioned towards Piper. ‘I got a rage so big and so deep –’ He made a fist with one hand then opened it and studied it as though he almost didn’t understand himself what he might do. ‘I could kill you just for looking at her the wrong way.’
‘Jack.’ Piper’s voice was steady but pleading. ‘I think you should go.’
The newcomer turned to Piper, and made a show of moving past Gage like he wasn’t perturbed by his words. ‘I didn’t start this, baby,’ he said, his voice shifting gear to drip warmth and innocence in her direction.
Gage glanced towards the gun cabinet, looking as though he was tempted to find it and point it at the intruder. ‘But if you don’t go now, I’ll finish it,’ he said, his voice heavy with promise.
The newcomer moved slowly to the door, stopping alongside Lou and Piper. He reached out a hand to Piper’s tearstained face. Instinctively, Lou pulled the girl away from him. There was something so cool and reckless in him. Gage had overreacted, sure. It was clear he had never seen Piper with a guy before – let alone a much older one sneaking around his property. But she got why the encounter had disturbed him so much. It had felt very much like Jack had some whole other agenda going on, an agenda that involved disturbing Gage, and using his daughter as the ammunition to do it. The newcomer – Jack – made for the door, exiting quickly and closing it behind him. ‘Nutter,’ he threw over his shoulder at Gage as he left.
The three of them stood there as though frozen in some kind of dream sequence, listening to the motorbike engine roar to life outside. Piper was the first to move. She wriggled free of Lou’s arms and turned to her father.
‘How could you?’ Her face was streaked with tears and huge red spots flamed on each cheek. She ran from the barn in a flurry of long, dark hair and wracking sobs.
When she was gone, Gage stumbled over to Lou, his shoulders drooping, his face unreadable. He stopped in front of her and gave her a sheepish, knowing look. ‘Now what did I do wrong?’ His green eyes appealed to her and she wanted to reach out her arms to him.
‘Oh, Gage.’ Lou couldn’t quite catch her breath. Gage’s eyes were bright with the effects of the encounter, but otherwise he was his usual, unreadable self.
‘Should I go after her?’
Lou knew nothing about parenting a seventeen-year-old girl, although she did know something about being one. ‘I’d give her some time,’ she said finally. ‘Let you both calm down a little.’ She shrugged. ‘But what would I know?’
Gage nodded. ‘Mmm. I need to ride,’ he said gruffly, turning towards the stalls. He opened the closest one and disappeared inside.
Lou heard him murmuring quietly for a couple of moments, and she tried to process what had just gone on. She had no doubt Gage had wanted to seriously hurt the stranger who had been pawing his daughter. And she had been sure he had been going to. Before she could unpack how she felt about that, Gage was leading the animal out. It was a huge white stallion, and it looked like it was still a little freaked out by recent events. It pawed the ground as it nuzzled Gage’s shoulder. Its bit and reins were in place, and Gage had a big brown saddle across one arm.
‘You coming?’ He started work to fit the saddle, tightening ropes and buckles efficiently.
‘Riding?’ Lou’s toes tingled as she considered Gage’s question. She shook her head. ‘You know I can’t ride.’
Gage vaulted into the saddle and held out a hand to Lou. ‘Lucky I can then,’ he said, a vulnerable edge in his voice.
Lou looked at the tanned hand held out to her. The fingers were strong and pretty all at once, and a red scratch decorated the back of one, all the way across the knuckles. Clever hands, capable hands.
‘Please,’ he said, his voice breaking a little.
And she was lost.
Gage rode the horse hard, and after the initial shock of the jarring rhythm, Lou’s body adjusted. It helped that she felt so safe with him. It didn’t matter that he crashed out of those stables like the devil was on his tail. It didn’t matter that she could feel how tense his muscles were as she held tight around his lean waist. It didn’t matter that he seemed to be going very fast across uneven ground.
None of it mattered because she could feel how in tune Gage was with the animal they were riding. He used the most minimal gestures on the reins to control the horse, and as they rode, she had the strangest sense that both Gage and the creature were working out their angst as they pushed harder, longer and further. Lou thought about his face back in the stables, as he’d said, ‘I have a rage in me.’ She shivered as she recalled how the truth of it had been written on his face.
Lou’s blood rushed in her ears as she held on. She pressed her tummy and cheek against his back, acutely conscious of the bump and jar of her pelvis against his buttocks. Her skin was so sensitised with the proximity of him, and the speed and exhilaration of the ride, that even the breeze seemed to sting against it as they raced on.
They started in the lowlands, skirting the property and the scrubby bush that ringed it, and then they pushed up, onto the mountain itself. They followed the track for a while, and Gage continued to press the animal hard until the track became patchier and they had to pick their way. As the horse slowed, Gage’s breathing slowed too. The muscles under her hands had begun to unclench and she swore she could hear the humming of his blood as she pressed her cheek against his back. The land, the ride – all of it soothed Gage. By the time he pulled the horse off onto a smaller track, pleasure was rising off him in great waves. And as he dismounted and guided the horse through the sparse gums in this place, Lou saw why.
They had emerged into a natural clearing on the side of Stone Mountain overlooking the property below. It was the middle of the day, and while the sun shone hot and hard overhead, the towering gums that ringed the clearing transformed it into a natural shade circle, fringed by drooping leaves and carpeted with mulchy green forest detritus, like some kind of fairy ring. She gasped, realising she had never been here before.
While the little clearing was beautiful, it was not the highlight of the place. Laid out before them, stark in its lines and lavish in its colours, was Sunset Downs. The drought had parched the surrounding land brown, but careful irrigation meant the property was a patchwork of greens, golds and darker hues; an oasis in the desert. The cattle paddocks stretched out wild and rough, interspersed with smaller, neater squares Lou assumed to be the grain growing zones. The waterhole winked silvery perfect in the centre, and from this vantage point the symmetry and order of the place, contrasted with the lush chaos of the bush around it, was breathtaking. It was as though some finicky god had carved out a paintbox amid the raucous loveliness of the bush.
Gage tied up the horse, helped Lou off and then strode to the edge of the mountain and dragged in a deep breath. The air was cool and sweet, and an invisible bird mocked them. Lou stumbled over to him, her limbs still shaky from the physical and sensual assault of the ride, then stood beside him and tried to see it through his eyes.
The last twenty years had transformed the place. She remembered what people had said about Sunset Downs when she was a kid: that its glory days were behind it, that poor little Gage Westin was holding on, but it was crumbling around him; that it was going to take more than a kid and a drunk to turn it around. Lou’s skin tingled, thinking how wrong they had been.
‘It’s beautiful, Gage,’ she whispered, worried about breaking the spell of serenity that seemed to have fallen over him.
‘It’s all for her,’ he answered. He stretched his hands high above his head, bending his head to either side to extend the stretch to his neck. ‘Before she came, I worked hard.’ He shrugged and turned to look at Lou, his eyes burning green. ‘But I had no plan.’
Lou nodded, wanting to reach out to him, but not sure where it might lead, up here, like they were the last two people on earth.
‘Once she came, I knew it wasn’t good enough. I had to get serious.’ He swept his arms across the view. ‘So I did. I learned all about it – all the ways to make a quick buck so we could get set up for the future.’
Lou studied the property again, remembering Piper bragging about the guar. ‘Looks like you did.’
Gage paused, then nodded. ‘You know, there are a million ways the land can fuck you.’ He shook his head, taking his hat off and throwing it on the ground. ‘Fire, drought, pests.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘You gotta get in front of it. Diversify.’ He laughed, a low, wry sound. ‘Pray.’
Lou smiled at him. ‘You don’t strike me as the praying type.’
He laughed again. ‘Oh honey, I never knew a farmer who didn’t pray. For rain. For a break.’ He went over to the horse, unstrapping a blanket from a saddle bag and laying it out on a patch of grass under one of the larger trees. Then he patted the place beside him, motioning for her to join him. ‘One time, I even prayed for the damn bank manager to get run over by a bus.’
She sat carefully next to him, trying hard not to touch him. He was so appealing right now – like some kind of wild animal in its natural habitat.
But he wasn’t having her perching sensibly on the other end of the blanket. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. She didn’t resist, allowing herself to be pulled in to him, revelling in the vanilla-and-woodsmoke smells of him. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, firm but relaxed, and she wanted to close her eyes and take a picture of the perfection of the moment. ‘And just in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t work. Prayer.’
Lou thought about all the things she had prayed for, during her time in Stone Mountain. ‘Amen to that.’
They sat, watching the view, listening to the birds, and, in Lou’s case, counting the slow thud of Gage’s heart where it pressed close to her ribs. Finally, she worked up the courage to jeopardise the moment.
‘What are you going to do?’
He stiffened a little, but didn’t move. ‘About that little fuckin’ upstart?’
Lou nodded. She tried to imagine how he must be feeling. It was not just the shock of the scene. It was how Piper’s new friend had reacted. There had been something off in him. A casual menace. Lou wondered if that quality about him seemed very grown-up and exciting to a seventeen-year-old girl.
Gage sighed, and tightened his hold on her. ‘I dunno,’ he said, drumming his fingers lightly on her shoulder. ‘She’s never had anyone before. And it’s not …’ He stopped and unhooked his arm from her shoulders to stand up. Lou felt the loss like a slash of grief. He stood facing her while she reclined on the blanket. ‘It’s not that I couldn’t imagine her having a’ – he swallowed, hard, like the word was choking him – ‘a boyfriend.’ He shrugged. ‘But there’s never been anyone before. Not even very many friends.’
Lou nodded, her chest contracting, watching the concern on his face.
‘It was our fault; she was kinda stuck to us. Me and Dad. And the place. We were her friends.’ He raised his hands as though pleading with her to understand. ‘I never did playdates and stuff. I was twenty, for Chrissakes. So she was different.’ He shrugged again. ‘And you know what kids are like, with difference.’
She did. They both did.
Those were possibly the most words she’d ever heard him say, in a row. She needed to help him out. ‘So I guess you didn’t expect to see her with someone like that?’
Gage kicked brutally at a clump of dirt. ‘I’ve never even seen anyone like that.’
‘I know what you mean.’ Lou hesitated. She had no place in this, but every time she thought about Piper, angry and humiliated, something hurt, low in her tummy. ‘You should go find her, when you get back,’ she said, standing up and reaching out to place a hand on his arm. ‘She’ll need to see you, no matter what you want to say.’
He nodded. ‘But what do I want to say?’
Lou shrugged. ‘You love her?’
Gage grinned wryly. ‘And if I ever see that smarmy bastard on the Downs again, I’ll shoot him in the balls?’
‘Maybe think about that part a little more.’ She hesitated again, a memory forming clear and perfect in her brain. ‘We don’t like to be told what to do.’
Gage reached out and touched a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Lou’s face, pushing it out of the way. ‘But you were always different.’ There was a tone in his voice that carried the faintest edge of accusation. She knew what he was thinking about: her, skipping out without a word after their one night together. She saw it there, in his gaze, looking at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing. The question burned at the back of his eyes. She knew he would never ask it, not after what had happened. He wouldn’t feel he had any right to. But they both knew he did.
Lou’s cheek tingled where he had brushed it. ‘She’s different too.’
‘Yeah,’ Gage agreed, his voice very soft as he touched a finger to her lips. ‘I was never going to be lucky enough to have easy women.’
Lou should have been offended at the suggestion that he ‘had’ her, like a possession. But she wasn’t. She knew he meant it the way he meant that he ‘had’ Sunset Downs – Gage and Sunset Downs were part of each other, just like Gage and Lou were. She felt it now, up here, watching him in this place he loved so much. Looking at him, a wave of desire crashed over her. She wanted him – as hard and bad as she had that night twenty years ago. And she could see in his face that he wanted her too.
‘Lou, I –’
She put a finger to his lips and stepped into his arms, smelling eucalypts and rich earth as she tipped her face up to his. His mouth moved quickly to cover hers, kissing her the way he had by the old jacaranda tree the night of the reunion; a kiss to scatter her good sense and stake a claim. Oh God, this was not a well-thought-out move. This was not the Lou who did things the right way; the Lou who was cautious and self-protective. This was some other, wild, mad Lou; a Lou that Sunset Downs and this man who belonged to it had taken possession of and would not let go.
‘I want you.’ His voice was a soft drawl.
She nodded, and he picked her up, just like he had a few nights before, and laid her down on the blanket. And all the musing and discussion ended. He was suddenly the Gage she had known at seventeen. He kissed her with the brutal surety of a boy who’d had every girl he’d ever wanted. He kissed her hard, and soft, and every way in between. He lay pressed half on top of her, the hot heavy weight of him overriding her senses. She didn’t know what she was doing. Nothing was resolved; nothing was right – between them or in this situation.
But she didn’t care. Not right now. She was pretty sure she would later; she would no doubt care a whole lot. But right now, after everything he had shared, she just wanted to roll up all the lust and heat and mad wild energy that exploded inside her every time she was near him and hurl it at him. She wanted him to see who she really was; who they might have been if life had not royally fucked them both.
She wanted this one moment, with him. So she kissed him back. And the desperation in her kiss seemed to push him further over the edge. He grabbed both her wrists and pinned them to the blanket above her head with one of his huge hands, deepening the kiss so she lost all sense of place and self. Her chest strained against his, revelling in the sensation of his hard muscles against her breasts beneath her soft T-shirt.
But not for long. With his free hand, he lifted the T-shirt up to reveal her lacy red bra, examining the thing for a minute before he flicked the tiny front-clasp expertly and exposed her to his greedy gaze. Then he gave a guttural sigh and buried his face in her breasts, inhaling deeply. ‘You are so fucking perfect,’ he said, looking up momentarily.
Lou’s tummy cartwheeled outrageously, and she tried to pull her hands down from where they were pinned so she could touch his beautiful face and put her hands in his hair.
‘No way,’ he said, smiling as he tightened his grip on her wrists and returned his attentions to her breasts, stroking first one then the other with his free hand while he laced kisses across her face and neck, moving his lips down to complement the work of his hand.
Lou’s hips bucked against his, her desire dizzying as he touched and licked her. She shouldn’t want this; she knew it was going to make everything so much more complicated. This was a bad idea; a bad, bad idea. But somehow it was also the natural culmination of everything that had happened this afternoon. The scene in the shed, the ride – Gage opening up to her. They both had some demons to expel and right now, all Lou wanted was to be as close to him as human biology allowed.
She tugged at his zip, desperate to feel him in her hand, almost as desperate as she was to feel him inside her. There was no lazy pleasure in this, no slow exploration. It wasn’t lovemaking, it was exorcism. He groaned against her ear and helped her with his jeans, before making such short work of hers, with a quick unbutton, a flick and a couple of short tugs, that Lou remembered how badly he outclassed her.
Oh well, fuck it.
Today she was having him.
Let tomorrow deal with itself.