As if afraid to let go, we hold hands as we walk down the hallway. When I lock the door, he stands behind me, an arm across my breasts. I put the keyring in my bag and he takes my hand again. It’s dark now. Eucalyptus perfumes the air. There’s scratching in the red gum.
‘That will be the possums.’
When I turn towards his car, he pulls me back. ‘Can we walk?’
Once we’re away from the shadows of the house, it’s easy to see the path. The moon, a shimmering sphere, hovers over the hill.
Silver, brilliant, argent, pearlescent.
There’s mint in the herb garden but very little else. I have to replace the old lemon trees, mulch the vegetable garden and have the glasshouse repaired …
The farmhouse alone won’t make me happy. I need him too.
‘Matts? Can you explain what you mean by long term?’
He squeezes my hand but says nothing.
When we reach the paddocks, Lollopy leaves Freckle to nap and bustles to the fence. He tips his head sideways and pushes it through the wire.
I laugh as I scratch under his forelock. ‘You have to wait till breakfast.’
Sonnet and Strider stand on the far side of the paddock. Strider nickers a greeting. Prima, ears pricked, walks cautiously to the fence and stands next to Lollopy.
‘Hello, girl.’ I turn to Matts, still holding my hand. ‘She’s much more confident than she was.’
When he extends his hand, Prima lowers her head and brushes her muzzle against his palm. ‘Don’t fucking bolt again,’ he mutters.
‘You’ll get used to—’ I frown up at him. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’
He tugs my hand and we walk towards the creek, but just before we get to the gate he reaches for me. I lean my back against his front. We face the farmhouse together, his arms around my middle. He kisses my temple and trails kisses to my jaw. He nuzzles my neck.
He smells nice. His body is hard and warm against my back. Desire ripples over me in waves. But when I try to turn, he holds me still. He kisses my neck again.
‘Do you want my answer?’
I take a deep breath. ‘Please hurry up.’
He rests his chin on my head and points to the farmhouse. ‘The weathervane was at a thirty degree angle. Now it’s at ninety. Why?’
‘It was years ago I tied it to the chimney. The wire must have loosened.’
‘You need a new roof.’
‘It can be patched.’
‘It can’t. The house needs gutters, downpipes, drainage and solar panels. It needs new floorboards and better ventilation. New posts and boards for the verandah. The windows, skirtings and cornices have to be replaced.’
I spin around. ‘I’ve spent all my money. I’ve borrowed money. I have to save up.’
‘I’ll pay for it.’
‘You can’t do that!’
‘Marry me.’
‘To get my roof fixed?’
‘So I don’t fall through your floor.’
‘It’s not a good enough reason.’
‘Will you make flowers for your hair? Will you dance to that song?’
I laugh. ‘“Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”?’
The light is fading but his eyes are bright. ‘I love you, Sapphie Brown. Marry me.’
Good-morning kisses. Laughter and tears. Wading through water in sunshine. Children and ponies and flowers.
I smooth his dark, glossy hair where it kinks behind his ear. I press my palm against the bristles at his jaw. I feel the texture of his mouth and his breath on my fingertips.
I stand on my toes and softly kiss his mouth.
As I fumble with the lock of the schoolhouse front door, Matts kicks off his shoes and puts them on the rack with my boots. He pulls his T-shirt over his head and throws it onto the desk.
‘Matts!’
His skin glows bronze in the shadows. His nipples are dark, his muscles defined. There’s a thin line of hair from his navel to his jeans.
His lip lifts. ‘Hurry up.’
‘I’m doing my—’
Matts is sitting on the end of the bed, still half naked, by the time I feed my cat and close the door to the bedroom. His knees almost touch the wall, but when he opens his arms, I sit sideways on his lap. He holds me firmly around my waist as I breathe in the scent of his skin and stroke his hair. I run my hands over his shoulders and chest.
I clear my throat. ‘We don’t have to get married straight away.’
‘We do.’
I touch his mouth with shaking fingers. ‘But living here … I want to be with you, that’s the most important thing. Horseshoe is so far away from Switzerland and Finland.’
‘Not so far.’
I look through the window to the treetops near the playground. ‘Gus once said that even though I didn’t come from Horseshoe, I ended up where I was supposed to start out in the first place.’
He runs his lips over the inside of my wrist. He looks up at me with dark sombre eyes. ‘You love me, yes?’
I tug my hand free and wrap my arms around his neck. ‘Always.’
‘I am meant to end up with you. We live here.’
The warmth in my veins seeps straight to my heart. I trace his scar. ‘I have long holidays. And Jet will look after my horses. Tumbleweed can stay with the Hargreaves. I’d like to see Switzerland.’ I kiss his shoulder. ‘Mostly I’d like to see Finland.’
‘The mangroves and swamps?’
I smile against his lips. ‘The thousand lakes.’
The touch of his mouth is new yet familiar. He takes my lips and tongue and breath and gives his own to me.
When I lift my arms, he pulls my T-shirt over my head. He kisses down my cleavage as he unclasps my bra. His eyes are heated as he cups my breasts. Our eyes meet. He must see the uncertainty in mine. He kisses one nipple and then the other. ‘Only you,’ he says.
We’re the same as we were. We’re nothing like we were.
Kissa. Cat.
Kotka. Eagle.
Our hands are impatient as we pull off our clothes. At first we move slowly and savour each moment. And then we move swiftly and search for release. He groans my name against my neck. I sob his against his mouth.
When the colours have faded, he sleeps against my breast. I hold him inside me. I trace his lashes, dark against his cheeks. I kiss his mouth and catch his breath.
What colour is this?
The silvery leaves of the gum trees and the orange-brown dust of the roads. The bright green rushes and grasses and the glistening patchwork of stars. The black cockatoos, the finches and kestrels and kites.
The grey of his eyes and the blue of my own.
The water that pools at our feet. Azure, aqua, ocean and turquoise.
The sunshine that rests on our shoulders. Saffron, lemon, amber and gold.
The perfect imperfections of our hearts.