Chapter Six

Olivia shielded her eyes from the relentless afternoon sun and studied the sign welcoming her to Baroona, population 834. The sign, like the picture-book shop fronts, empty sidewalks, and deserted streets, was ancient, weather-beaten, and covered with the same crimson dust that stretched to the horizon in every direction. There was a rugged, honest beauty about the place that had her wandering around like a slack-jawed tourist with sweat trickling down her back and between her boobs and the soles of her hundred-year-old sneakers sticking to the tacky asphalt. Thank God Abi had warned her to pack for comfort rather than style.

She couldn’t figure out whom she feared for most: the unsuspecting inhabitants living on the edge of civilization or her hopelessly in love big sister. Lifting her gaze back to the sign, she shook her head and chuckled. “Make that eight hundred and thirty-five, Baroona. And may God have mercy on your souls.”

She turned back to the service station across the street, where Jarrah stood like a model from a Levi’s commercial pumping yet another tank of gas into the Camaro. The locals called it petrol. Whatever the hell Abi and Ryder’s wedding present drank, it was freaking expensive. Baroona had only one gas station, and it appeared to be the only shop open at a quarter past five, so she was more than happy to pay the two Aussie dollars a liter.

Jarrah had slept even less than she had and rejected all her efforts to share the driving, yet he looked as alive and dangerous as he had that morning when pounding the heavy bag. Dave, or Davo as he’d ordered her to call him, the gas station’s way too cheeky elderly owner who’d smacked a stubbly kiss on her cheek, was still bringing her chauffeur up to speed on everything he’d missed over the past year. If her tour guide was bored, it was impossible to tell because the smile never left his face. It was as if the hotter it got and the farther they traveled inland, the happier and more relaxed he became despite the countless messages and email reminders pinging on his phone whenever they got cell coverage.

The Camaro’s immaculate candy apple-red paint hid beneath the same dust the breeze covered her sneakers with. Despite the heat and the flies that seemed hell-bent on kamikaze diving down her throat or up her nose, and more than seven hours’ worth of stiff muscles, she couldn’t stop grinning. Then again, her smile probably had more to do with the man eyeing her from across the road rather than the surprisingly delightful Outback settlement of Baroona.

She cursed her pathetic self even as she added a bit of hip to her walk across the street and under the relative protection of the service station’s rusted corrugated iron roof. “Thank you so much for opening up for us, Davo. How much do we owe you?”

Davo barked out a laugh and turned on Jarrah, who sighed and shook his head. Davo was still chuckling as he limped around the Camaro and patted away the bills she held out for him. “Put those away, love. Your man doesn’t pay for fuel or anything else I sell, and you sure as hell won’t, either.”

She ignored Jarrah’s finger wave and shoved the money into Davo’s chest. “He’s not my man. Please let me at least pay you for staying open for us.”

Davo latched onto her hand with a surprising amount of strength before placing the notes into her palm and gently folding her fingers around the money. “Jarrah knows where I keep the office key. I only popped out to give him grief.” Davo’s sandpaper grip eased, and his sun-darkened features softened. “Then I heard that beautiful voice and saw all those sexy curves and just had to hang around.” Davo turned and gestured toward the Camaro. “She’s breathtaking.”

The reverence in Davo’s voice had her nodding despite her tree-hugging tendencies. “My sister would love to take you out for a drive if you’d like.”

Jarrah chuckled and exchanged a sneaky grin with Davo before hanging up the pump.

“I wasn’t talking about the Camaro.” Davo turned and winked at her before offering her a smile as bright as the sun beating down on the town. “It’s lovely to meet you, Doc.”

While she tried figuring out why she was flattered by the devious old man’s cheeky grin instead of annoyed, he tipped his bedraggled cowboy hat and spun on Jarrah. With a deliberately slow nod, Davo jabbed a crooked finger at Jarrah and nodded again before hobbling off like some sort of gas-pumping Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She had a hard enough time deciphering the Aussie slang Ryder and his family insulted one another with during their Skype hookups. She had no idea what had just passed between Davo and Jarrah. Which was probably a good thing considering the crazy emotions she was battling.

She waited for Jarrah to close the Camaro’s gas cap before holding out the money. “Can we leave it in the office for him?”

“You do that and the grumpy old bastard will track me down and shoot me.” He grinned and took in the cracked concrete driveway, the faded service station and mechanic signs, and the ancient pumps. “That shifty curmudgeon has more than enough money to fix this place up, but he shuts me down every time I bring up the subject.” Jarrah shrugged and fished out the keys from his pocket. “The rest of the town thinks it’s an eyesore, yet old mate Davo reckons it adds a bit of true-blue dinky-di to the place and makes visitors feel like they’re on an adventure.”

She couldn’t help smiling at the shot of Down Under twang Jarrah had added to his normally whiskey-smooth voice as he popped the trunk and stuck his head inside. Being the busybody she was, she moved around the Camaro’s fender and arrived in time to catch him tugging out a dusty black cowboy hat from behind what looked like a doomsday prepper’s survival kit. She had no idea what he planned to do with the moth-eaten hat, but at least she now knew why he’d stowed their luggage in the backseat rather than the trunk. A toolbox and first-aid kit along with an auto shop’s worth of spare parts were crammed around a second spare tire and surrounded by containers of coolant, oil, and God knew what else.

She tapped a machete’s handle poking out from between two clear plastic jerricans of water. “Preparing for the zombie apocalypse?”

He chuckled, but for once it didn’t make her smile. “You never take anything for granted out here. Complacency kills people in the Outback long before the heat and creepy crawlies.”

She’d read countless horror stories of people meeting their untimely deaths in the desert and was silently thanking her subconscious for allowing him to tag along when he dusted off the hat and slapped in on her head. “This doesn’t leave your noggin until I get you a new one. White big-city girl like you will burst into flames out here.” He muttered something to himself before tugging the hat down harder. “If my mother asks, you’ve been wearing this since you left Brisbane.”

The brim covered her eyes and trapped her in a shadowed world drenched with the scents of leather, dirt, and sweat. Instead of making her gag, the earthy aromas conjured up images of cowboys on horseback, desert sunsets, and starlit night skies.

She tilted back the hat and faked a scowl. “And what about you?”

He muttered another curse before capturing her head in his hands and adjusting the hat with his thumbs. He’d hunched down so close the lingering smell of the jelly beans he’d stolen from her private stash drifted across her face as she studied him. His eyes widened and his hands froze as if he’d been shocked by the same electricity shooting through her. Lust, excitement, joy, peace, confusion, anxiety, fear: all the usual suspects that had taken turns torturing her showed up along with a few emotions she couldn’t identify as her heart drummed inside her chest.

He slowly released her and eased back before clearing his throat. “W-we better get going.”

She tried answering only to discover her mouth wouldn’t work. All she could do was nod and stare back.

He returned her nod yet didn’t move. Instead, he loomed above her for God knew how long before clearing his throat again and slipping the car keys into her palm. “It’s your surprise. You should drive.”

She dropped her gaze to where his hand held hers and swallowed the dust in her throat. How long had it been since she’d been lost for words? How many years had passed since she’d felt like a teenager? The air swirling around them jumped another twenty degrees before he finally released her hand, closed the trunk, and made his way to the passenger side. She tried moving, but it took a few more lungfuls of the superheated air before her jelly legs worked.

The Camaro’s interior was almost as hot as her skin as she woke the beast and pulled out onto the only road heading out of town. With each passing block, the historic corrugate iron-roofed houses and dehydrated gardens gave way to sparser and more forgotten signs of habitation until civilization surrendered to the Outback. She stared numbly through the bug-splattered windshield at the infinite desolation stretching out before her. No telephone poles, no fences, nothing except desiccated scrub, prehistoric rock formations, ochre dust, and a dead-straight dirt road disappearing into the heat haze under an infinite cobalt sky.

They’d been plowing through the desert for about half an hour with only the engine’s rhythmic drumming and the wind buffeting the cabin to interrupt the silence when a mushroom cloud of emerald exploded through the horizon. She eased off the accelerator and turned to her silent passenger, who’d spent the time since they’d left town scrolling through the messages that had flooded his phone as soon as they’d hit Baroona’s outskirts. “Is that the Wishing Tree?”

He tucked his phone away, and the frown that had been creasing his forehead moments earlier vanished as he peered out the windshield. “The one and only.”

She’d lost count of the times Abi and Ryder had spoken about the Wishing Tree and its dreamtime voodoo. Life, way too many years of college, and endless emergency room shifts had turned her into an even bigger cynic than her big sister. Love and the Aussie heat had fried Abi’s brain and turned her sister into a believer, which left Olivia as the only remaining skeptic in the extended Harper clan. Despite what Abi believed, a magical tree that supposedly foretold the future hadn’t brought Ryder and her big sister together. Their love affair had been a product of blind luck, mule-headed stubbornness, and an insane bond that was as powerful as it was sickeningly sweet.

“You decided on your wish yet?”

She huffed. “Please don’t tell me you believe in magic trees.”

He hitched an eyebrow. “C’mon, Doc, there must be something you’re wishing for.”

She had no right to wish for anything. The most important person in her world was healthy and happy. She’d finally finished residency and was a month away from starting her dream career. After a lifetime of hard work, she had everything she’d ever dreamed of and the freedom to do whatever the hell she wanted. “Doesn’t the tree decide your wish?”

His laughter filled the cabin as he shoved her. “So you do believe in magic, you muggle.”

She cursed and shoved him back. “There’s no such thing as magic freaking trees.”

Jarrah studied her for a long moment before slowly raising an eyebrow. “We all need a little magic in our lives.”

She rolled her eyes before tightening her grip on the steering wheel and mashing the accelerator. She knew all about the magic he referred to. Hell, she’d created a fair bit of magic herself in her day.

With each mile, the Wishing Tree grew larger until it dominated the horizon. Standing as tall as it was wide, its branches covered the barren desert like a huge living umbrella. The bone-white trunk and emerald canopy were at such odds with the surrounding crimson rock and faded green weeds that it looked like the sole survivor of a drought that had lasted an eternity. It wasn’t magic, but, damn, it was impressive.

Her curiosity almost had her pulling off for a closer look. She steeled herself and guided the Camaro along the dirt road snaking between the huge rock formations jutting out of the surrounding rubble like the bones of a giant dinosaur.

She glanced at Jarrah, who’d done a pretty good job of pretending not to look at her. “You’re not going to try to get me to stop?”

“Hell no. Your sister would kill me.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “She’s got something special planned for your wish.”

She groaned and slapped him only to have the back of her hand thud into his chest. She’d backhanded the occasional rock-hard chest in her day, but they’d belonged to the college jocks she’d tested the waters with in med school. The men she’d dated since she’d grown up hadn’t had the time, energy, or motivation to maintain superhero physiques along with successful careers. Yet the smug asshole grinning at her seemed to have overcome that issue. A fact she was growing more and more aware of every time she made the mistake of touching him. She fought the urge to slap him again, purely for research purposes, and shifted her attention back to the road rising up a crest ahead.

The gasp escaping her had nothing to do with wishing trees or the man sitting beside her and everything to do with the landscape unfolding before her.

Abi had put her to sleep going on and on about the cattle station where she planned to spend the rest of her life. Even the terabytes of photos and video Olivia had suffered through hadn’t done Wingarra justice.