Baxter didn’t get much sleep that night and was feeling very light-headed when he got up the next morning. Liz was sound asleep with a half-smile on her face.
No wonder, he thought, that Jack Drew had been jealous if any man even looked at Liz. She was a sexual treasure.
After having a shower and getting dressed, Baxter ate an omelette, then made another, filled a glass with orange juice and took breakfast in to his guest. She was still asleep and he hated waking her. He knew he should let her sleep on, but she had a big drive ahead of her.
‘Liz,’ he whispered and kissed her cheek.
‘What is it, honey?’ she asked and reached for him.
‘Breakfast,’ he said softly.
‘Already?’ She opened one eye and looked at the tray in his hands. ‘Breakfast in bed—I’ve never had breakfast in bed. I want to kiss you, Greg.’ She kissed him several times, then took the tray. ‘Feel better, honey?’
‘Considerably.’ It wasn’t the total truth, as he felt like going back to bed with her, but he did feel less tense.
‘Think you’ll remember me?’ she asked, her lips brushing his cheek.
‘For a very long time,’ he assured her. ‘Go on, have some breakfast. You should be ready for it after last night.’
•
He was reading a two-day-old newspaper when she came into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing the same blue jeans but with a different blouse. There was a real glow about her that he thought was pretty incredible, considering the effort she’d expended during the night.
‘You look good enough to eat,’ he said. ‘Tea or coffee?’ The two pots were sitting in front of him on the table.
‘Coffee would be wonderful,’ she said, sitting down.
He poured her a mug and then appraised her again. ‘You shouldn’t look as good as you do,’ he said.
She shrugged and gave him a small, pleased smile. ‘I was feeling very fresh last night. You know, I’d been thinking about you quite a lot.’
The idea of her thinking about him like that made him hot all over. ‘I’m not sure exactly how to put this, Liz, but you’re the most . . . the most woman I’ve ever known. I hope you understand what I mean.’
‘I like sex,’ she said, matter-of-fact. ‘Especially when it’s with someone I really like. And I like you a lot, honey,’ she added warmly.
They smiled at each other for a moment.
‘What are you going to do with your life, Liz?’
She dropped her eyes and shrugged. ‘Who knows, I might marry a cattleman.’
‘Lucky cattleman,’ he said.
She got up and came around the table to him. He felt her firm breasts press against him as she kissed him and sat on his lap. ‘You can make a person feel real good without even trying,’ she said huskily, and they kissed for a while, his arms around her.
When they came up for air, Baxter stroked her cheek and said, ‘Don’t just marry any cattleman, Liz. Marry a fellow who loves you and doesn’t booze. Have a couple of kids. You’re a very warm person—you’d give your kids plenty of love and affection.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ She smiled down at him affectionately, then slid from his lap and sat at the table again. ‘Someday I’ll make a trip back here to see you and Julie. Though I should hope that there’ll be no Franco Campanelli to concern me.’
‘By then I’m sure there won’t be,’ Baxter said, thinking of what Lester had told him. ‘Maybe you’ll be able to bring your family.’
‘Maybe.’ She finished her coffee. ‘There are two favours I’d like to ask of you before I go, Greg.’
‘Ask away, Liz,’ he said with a smile.
‘I’d like you to take me for a run in your new boat. I want to remember you and this river and my last morning here.’
‘Okay, what’s the other?’ he asked.
‘I’d like to watch you doing your exercises and martial arts routines—Julie says they’re worth seeing.’
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘But when do you plan on leaving?’
She met his eyes and smiled. ‘If it were only up to me I wouldn’t leave at all. But, as it is . . . probably after lunch.’
•
Baxter packed ham-and-tomato sandwiches, small cream cakes and a thermos of hot water. With Liz holding on to his arm, they walked down to the jetty.
He handed her into the new boat and watched as Chief followed. Then he untied the two mooring ropes, threw them onto the boat and jumped on board. Liz stood beside him while he started the engine and listened as it purred into life.
He backed the boat out into the river and then pointed it down towards the harbour. They passed under the bridge and traversed the harbour’s mouth before coming back into the river proper. When they reached the bridge again, Baxter kellicked the boat and they had their morning smoko in the cabin.
‘This and what happened last night must be as close to paradise as I’ll ever experience,’ Liz said and pressed his arm. ‘And doesn’t Chief like to be here?’
The dog’s tail was wagging and he was sniffing around, his eyes bright.
‘He’s nuts on this boat,’ Baxter agreed. ‘Must be all the new smells—he has a very acute nose.’
Liz was staring out across the water, her eyes suddenly sad. ‘Jack liked his boat. He was liking it more and more towards the end. If only he hadn’t been so keen on the booze.’ She sighed. ‘I still don’t understand why.’
Baxter gave her a sympathetic look. ‘Neither do I. There’s no answers in a bottle, Liz. Like there’s no answers from using drugs.’
•
Liz sat on a chair in the shed and watched Baxter perform some of his old gymnastic exercises followed by his martial arts routine. He was clad only in white shorts and white gym shoes. When he’d finished, she told him it was a performance she was likely never to forget. She said, a sparkle in her eyes, that Baxter had the best body she’d ever seen, and she had never seen anyone who could move like him. She didn’t have to add that this included her late husband.
After they’d eaten lunch, Liz handed Baxter a small slip of paper. ‘That’s my address and phone number in Queensland. If you’d ever like to come and visit me, you’d be more than welcome. And would you mind if I ring you occasionally?’
‘You can ring me any old time,’ Baxter said.
She smiled and he thought she looked young and wonderful. ‘Can we talk frankly, Greg?’ she asked.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think so, Liz.’
‘Your illustrious mother would probably say that I wasn’t good enough for you, but if the writing business doesn’t work out and you don’t want to go back to cooking, I’d be very happy for you to come help me run the property.’
Smiling, he shook his head. ‘I don’t know the first thing about cattle, except how to cook the meat. And I thought you said you might marry a cattleman?’
‘Oh, you know I was just joking. After you, any man would be a letdown, and I don’t want to settle for second best. I had one bash at that.’
‘There must be plenty of good men looking for good women like you.’
‘I doubt I’d qualify as a good woman anymore. And from my experience, really good men are hard to find.’ Her eyes were sad. ‘Anyway, I want you to know that if things get tough, come to me. It’s a big property—big enough to keep us.’
He wished he didn’t have to hurt her, but he didn’t want to give her false hope either. He took her hand, met her gaze and spoke as gently as possible. ‘Look, I appreciate your offer no end, but I don’t see us settling down together. And right now, all I’m interested in is my writing.’
‘But you’re sweet on Julie, aren’t you?’ Liz asked, her voice sharpening. She slid her hand from his.
‘Yes, I like her a lot,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve always liked her. But Julie doesn’t want a man in her life. We’re good mates and that’s about it.’
Liz nodded, seeming to accept this. ‘I used to think she was the smartest person in Moondilla, but if she was she’d have grabbed you, Greg. A woman with any real feeling in her couldn’t keep coming out here and not make love.’ Liz paused, bit her lip, and said, ‘Do you know she’s never been to bed with a man?’
Baxter wondered if Julie would have wanted Liz to tell him that. ‘You appear to know more about that side of her than I do,’ he said.
‘We’ve talked quite often, sometimes about men. I don’t think you’d be happy with her, Greg. She’s married to medicine.’
Liz sounded a little sharp again, but he accepted that what she’d said was probably true. It was also true that as a sexual being, Liz Drew left Julie Rankin for dead. Liz invested everything she did with her own innate appeal. A woman could work at developing a persona, and many did, but Baxter reckoned she’d been born with hers. If a fellow simply wanted a good sex life, she’d fit the bill to perfection—and of course, there was much more to Liz than her talent in the bedroom.
Baxter wondered why it was that although he felt very warmly about Liz, he didn’t love her. There was a wide gulf between warmth for a woman and love. It was demonstrated by the fact that he wasn’t greatly concerned about her leaving Moondilla. If he’d loved her, he would have fought tooth and nail to keep her close to him.
There was a rumble of thunder and it began to rain. The river was pockmarked by solid droplets.
Liz got up and went to the window. ‘It’s going to be a wet afternoon,’ she said.
‘You don’t have to head off in a storm. You can stay another night.’
‘You don’t understand. The longer I stay with you, the longer I’ll want to stay and the harder it will be to leave.’ But Liz made no move to get going. Instead she asked, ‘While it’s raining, though, can I have a look through your house?’
‘Be my guest.’
‘I am your guest,’ she said with a smile.
She wandered with him from room to room until she found his study, which it appeared had been her objective. ‘Is this where you work? Is that the book?’ She pointed to where the pages of his manuscript were stacked up.
‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Or the first draft, at least.’ He sat on the edge of his big wooden desk and looked up at her. ‘I’ve been held up because I don’t know how to finish the damned thing. Beginning it was easy—it’s the ending that’s difficult.’
‘Endings are always difficult, Greg,’ she said. ‘Like leaving here and you.’
He sighed and gestured to the manuscript. ‘I’m going to scrap what I’ve done and start again.’
‘You’re going to scrap all that work?’ she exclaimed.
‘More or less. I’m going to reshape the story’s direction. It’s not good enough, and when I began to write it I hadn’t met you or reconnected with Julie. You’ve inspired me.’
He wanted to write about them as well as Rosa—three very different women who’d all had their lives changed by the drug trade.
Liz looked pleased. ‘And has this book got a title?’
‘Nothing set in concrete, but I think of it as River of Dreams.’
She rolled the title over her tongue. ‘I like the sound of it. I suppose living here, you can’t help writing about the river.’
‘That’s partly right. The lovely old river out there was one of the main reasons I bought this place. But there are other meanings behind the title. A river is a source of life because so much depends on its flow, but it isn’t dangerous like the ocean. And life itself is like a river. It flows on and on, then eventually it comes to an end. Our dreams form part of that flow of life.’
‘That’s beautiful,’ Liz said. ‘I’d read it based on that alone. Send me a copy?’
He grinned. ‘I might even bring you one if it ever gets published.’