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‘Amalthea?’ After a moment, he gave an almost reluctant smile. ‘Ah, yes. That’s the goat goddess who purportedly sustained Zeus with milk. I take it she acts like a goddess, too?’
Tiffany grimaced. ‘She has come across as somewhat goddessy at times. Yes.’
A sulphur-crested cockatoo flew out of the branches of a eucalypt tree. It would have made a good ‘In Flight’ picture, but Tiffany had no time to think about photography right now. She turned back to face Jack.
He began to inch quietly to the right. ‘You go left. We’ll encourage the goat towards the gate. The first one of us near enough can open it to let her through.’
It took a bit of running. Tiffany uttered more than one stifled curse, while Jack seemed to welcome the physical activity. Eventually they got Amalthea back where she should be.
They stood there then, Tiffany and Jack, in front of the gate, facing each other. His body formed a half-cradle for hers, blocked her in against the gate, and she wanted to close the distance between them and have more than a friendly hug.
Did he realise how close they were? What if he knew his closeness still affected her in a way he didn’t welcome?
‘You could stay for dinner. It’s nearly that time now.’ Only after she’d issued the invitation did her thoughts go back to the last time she had invited him to her cottage for a meal.
Heat climbed into her cheeks and she hurried on. ‘I’ve got Mexican rice left over in the fridge, or I could meet you somewhere else if you’d rather. You could invite your mother along, or we could just visit for a while now.’
‘Tiff.’ His hand closed over hers. Regret seemed to fill his eyes for a moment, before he let go and looked away. Then he straightened away from her completely, and she let out her breath in slow increments so he wouldn’t notice she’d been holding it.
Jack’s head tilted to the side. ‘There’s someone coming up the road towards your place.’
Tiffany heard only the pounding of her heart and the cacophony of regret and uncertainty. The sudden wail of a siren, when it came, made her jump. ‘That’s—it’s turned in at the farm gate. They must have run the siren to warn us they were here. It sounded like an ambulance.’
‘We need to see what’s wrong.’ Jack started to stride back towards the footbridge. ‘My Jeep’s parked behind the peppercorn trees. Let’s go.’
When she didn’t immediately follow, instead stood rooted to the spot as she tried to make it add up—ambulance, farm, someone hurt—Jack turned back. ‘You said it’s you and Ron. Would he still be here this late?’
‘It’s possible. He stayed to finish the hoof trimming so I could check the water troughs. We had some delays today that put us behind, and then I had to retrieve goats. I haven’t heard him drive away.’ She murmured the words, and as she did so injury scenarios began to play through her mind.
Quickly, she gathered the tools she’d used to try to fix the fence where the goats had got through, and hurried after Jack.
Once they were in his Jeep he swung the wheel and covered the distance to the farm gateway as quickly as possible. The Jeep barrelled up the lane.
Her breath came in sharp puffs, from a combination of concern and the effect of being near him. Nerves and confusion added to the mix.
The ambulance idled outside her parents’ empty house. The home was being painted, but with the painter gone there was no one to give directions. When Jack pulled alongside, the officers were about to get out of the vehicle.
Tiffany leaned her head out of the Jeep. ‘It has to be Ron. He must have called from the phone in the shed.’ She pointed. ‘We’ll follow you there.’
It took seconds only to arrive at the shed. Tiffany scrambled out of the Jeep. ‘Ron? Ron! Where are you? What’s happened?’
She hurried inside. Ron lay on the floor of the shed, his face ashen, one leg bent at an odd angle.
‘We’re here, Ron. It’ll be all right.’ Jack’s reassurance came from right behind her, and his hand came to rest on her shoulder.
Tiffany registered the warm feeling of his touch and tried not to press back into it. ‘What happened, Ron? I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you.’
‘I’d finished with the last of the goats and let them out of the holding pen. I was about to go home for the day.’ Ron gritted the words out as the ambulance officers crouched to attend to him.
He cast one puzzled glance towards Jack. ‘I knocked a hoof pick down and slipped on the dratted thing. Came down hard and sort of twisted as I landed. I think I’ve broken my leg.’
After a swift examination, the ambulance officers concurred. Tiffany stood still as they questioned Ron, checked vitals, and quickly prepared him for the short journey to the ambulance. With a part of her mind she registered Jack still behind her, his touch a warm feeling of reassurance at her back as the ambulance officers loaded Ron so they could stretcher him to the ambulance.
She should focus on the friendly experience of Jack’s touch, not the shimmery other feeling that coursed through her.
‘Will you ring Denise for me, Tiff?’ Ron gritted the question through clenched teeth.
His wife would need to know. Tiffany hurried forward to answer him, touched his arm with careful fingers. If it also offered an excuse for her to shift away from the temptation of Jack’s touch, she refused to think about that fact.
Nor would she dwell on the bereft feeling she had now they were separated. ‘I’ll ring Denise straight away, Ron. Then I’ll follow the ambulance in and make sure everything is okay for you.’
‘No need. You should finish your visit with Jack. Didn’t know he was back here…’ Ron’s voice wavered as the ambulance officers took him outside and loaded him into the back of the vehicle. His eyelids fluttered down.
‘We need to get him into town.’ One of the officers climbed in with Ron. The other closed them in and moved towards the front of the vehicle.
‘Yes, of course.’ Tiffany nodded and stepped back, and the ambulance drove off.
‘They’ll look after him.’ Jack offered the assurance from beside her. ‘And Denise will be there for him. But if you want to go in, we can.’
‘No. That’s okay. I think he’d rather not make too much of a fuss of this, but I’d better phone Denise and tell her the ambulance is on its way to town.’ She hurried into the shed and picked the phone up off the floor. ‘Ron must have knocked the phone down to use it.’
When she would have dialled the number, Jack laid his hand over hers. ‘Tell Denise I’ll be here to help you until your parents get back. Once Ron’s well enough to think about it, he’ll need to know that.’
‘What? Mum and Dad aren’t due back for ten days.’ She started to shake her head. ‘I can’t possibly ask—’
‘Then don’t.’ He squeezed her hand and let go. ‘Don’t ask, because I’ve already made up my mind. Let me help you—spend the time with you. It will solve your staffing problem and give me what I want at the same time—a chance to spend enough time with you to really renew our friendship.’
‘It’s not that simple, Jack. You know—’
‘I know my friend needs some help. Why wouldn’t I give it to her?’ His jaw jutted out, signalled his determination. ‘I’m not due back to work for weeks yet. I’m free to help you. Let me.’
‘You couldn’t come here every day from the nearest motel, and I gather you won’t be staying with your parents.’ Clearly he and Samuel had locked horns enough that Jack would avoid the place now.
Milking started early on the dairy farm. Jack would have to be on the road before five a.m.—not to mention how she would cope with all that time in his presence after so long, with her thoughts and feelings all in a whirl.
‘Your motel is in Ruffy’s Crossing. It’s an hour’s drive away. And you can’t stay at Mum and Dad’s place because it’s being painted.’
That only left one other choice—one which she felt certain he would reject.
‘The only other option would be for you to stay at the cottage with me for the duration. Obviously you won’t want to do that.’
‘Why not?’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’ve stayed there in the past. It will be just like old times.’
Just like old times? They would pretend the bit in between had never happened?
‘Don’t prevaricate, Tiff. You need help. If not me, it would have to be one of your brothers.’ Jack touched the small of her back, a tiny guiding contact as he led her towards his Jeep. ‘Let’s go. I’ve got my travel bag on the back seat, with plenty of clothes that’ll do to work in while I’m here.’
What other choice did she have? Call one of her brothers and let her whole family know she hadn’t lasted more than a couple of days while she tried to run the farm alone? How would that look for living up to their faith in her?
‘All right.’ She tried to ignore the sensation of warmth that spread at the base of her spine from his touch. ‘I accept your offer of help—as one friend to another.’
She just hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. Because the next ten days could be a slice of that old, wonderful friendship, or be charged with the same unease she felt now.
Tiffany wasn’t sure which it would be!
CHAPTER TWO
‘WE’RE almost done. There are only about fifty goats still out there in the waiting room.’
It was early morning. Jack made his observation as he rounded the corner of one row of the milking parlour and told himself things were working out just as he wanted. Better, in fact. Ron’s accident was unfortunate, and he really felt for Tiffany’s worker, but Jack hadn’t expected to have a chance to spend so much quality time with Tiffany—and that, in and of itself, was a good thing.
Once they both began to relax into that time it would be really beneficial to their friendship.
He was here for that reason and nothing else. Last night had been uneasy, but that was to be expected. He’d kept the conversation on simple, uncomplicated topics—friendly topics. And if Tiff hadn’t seemed entirely happy with that state of affairs—well, she would come to realise it was best.
Jack would make sure of that. Because he wanted his visit here to work out. He wanted her back in his life the way she had been before. Jack wanted that much of Tiffany more than he could let himself acknowledge, and he would have it.
There was no need to delve into aspects of the past that had no bearing now. The wrong path he’d started on with Tiffany before he went away. The Samuel factor. The other challenges Jack had faced in recent months. Jack had all of that stuff sorted.
He had missed Tiffany a lot. But as a friend, nothing more.
Right.
A snarl formed on his face, and he forced it away. The travelling yesterday must have frustrated him, or something. That was all.
‘One more milking cycle will take care of it, then.’ Tiffany rounded the corner from the opposite direction, and pulled up a millimetre short of stepping right into his arms.
Jack sucked in his breath and stepped abruptly backwards to avoid that direct contact. He resisted the urge to check that his thick shirt was correctly in place, and ran his fingers over his hair instead. ‘I guess you didn’t realise I was so close.’
‘No. Sound distorts in here sometimes. I thought you were further away—in the next row.’ Her pointy chin rose to a defensive angle. She stepped away and checked the flow of milk through the tubing that ran along the row. ‘Actually, we won’t be entirely finished with the milking when we’re done here.’
She paused to tuck her overalls more firmly into her gumboots. Her T-shirt today was lemon, with tiny flowers designed onto it, her overalls a soft, mellow green. She wore no hat, and her hair looked soft and inviting where it sprang out from its loose ponytail. He had teased her yesterday, but in truth Tiffany was way too attractive—no matter what she dressed in.
Tiffany pulled a wry face. ‘Amalthea avoided the milk shed again today, so it looks like I get to hand-milk her again.’
Jack drew his gaze away from the soft curvature of her arms, the halo of her hair. It shouldn’t have been difficult to do so. ‘You should have told me that goat was missing. I would have searched her out for you.’
The words were harsh, almost a growl. He clamped his mouth shut before anything else could come out, turned away, and tried to soften his tone to something a bit more normal. ‘I’ll help you find her later, if you like.’
‘That’s okay. I saw her hidden behind some hay bales in the south paddock. I doubt she will have moved.’ Tiffany gave him a puzzled look and turned away. ‘I’ll get a bucket and take care of business later.’
They worked in silence for a few moments. The routine never changed. Check, regulate, ensure all the goats took the supplement, that they all appeared bright and in good health. This was good. Relaxed, normal.
Jack tried for some chitchat to cement that effect. ‘How are your wildlife photos coming along? I noticed you’ve added quite a bit of material to your website.’
‘Did you visit it while you were away? You e-mailed so irregularly I didn’t think…’ She trailed off and looked away.
Yes, Tiff. I visited the website almost every day. It gave me a connection, and I needed it. Even when I remained out of contact with you.
‘I dropped by now and then. I liked the one of the goanna up on its hind legs, running up the middle of a dirt road.’
‘Thanks. It was one of those lucky shots. I was toying with colour contrasts and a new zoom lens, caught movement, and realised the goanna was running towards me from a distance.’
Dust motes danced in beams of sunshine above her and his body tightened with an unwelcome interest.
Regret shifted inside him, and Jack battened it down. He had to look forward, not back. It was the only way to salvage anything. He pushed a smile to his face. ‘It’s my guess you got out of the goanna’s way before it got too close?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She laughed. ‘There’s no shame in the judicious use of long-range photographic equipment.’ Tiffany’s laughter faded, but her expression remained warm, vulnerable. ‘I got that shot on one of the treks Jan and I made last month.’
‘Your watercolour friend from Sydney?’ His heart soaked up the sound of her laughter.
‘Yes. Jan got into her art about the same time I took up photography. She’s fun to be around.’
As they finished up in the shed, Tiffany told him a little more about her most recent photography expeditions.
As she talked, they both began to relax. Jack didn’t realise how much until they stepped outside into the morning light and stood side by side at the sink to wash up.
Then Tiffany’s chatter died away. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and her shoulders drew up into a tight line. All the ease left her. ‘Jack—about that last night before you went away. And the days that led up to it. I need to tell you I truly thought—’
‘You don’t need to say anything. It was just a mistake, and it’s finished with now.’ He didn’t look at her as he scrubbed up. The mistake was that he had allowed things to get so far in the first place, but he couldn’t say that.
It wasn’t a case of avoiding the issue, either. Jack understood all his issues perfectly well. He didn’t have to burden Tiffany with the knowledge of them, though.
‘Where did you and Jan go camping? Anywhere special?’ Talk about those things, Tiffany. Tell me how you spent your time while I was away. He wanted to hear of positive things, upbeat things, to counterbalance his memories of struggle and difficulty.
She glared at him for a moment as she scrubbed up. Then she dried her hands and started towards the dairy building. ‘What is special if it’s not Australian bush land?’
In the paddocks around them goats bleated, drank water from the troughs and climbed anything not at ground level.
It was a natural scene, restful and calm, yet the air between them crackled with tension.
‘My favourite trip recently was to Warrabah National Park.’ She bit the words out as she stomped along. ‘I got some good river-life shots there.’
‘Great. That’s great.’ He realised he had moved too close to her side, and stepped sideways a bit.
The look she cast his way held frustration, but he just gestured towards the dairy.
‘I’m no use to you in there.’ The dairy was the one part of the farm Jack knew little about. ‘How about if I load the truck for the next hay feed out?’ He wasn’t choosing to avoid her company. That would be pointless when he had come here expressly to seek it out.
He had irritated her, but maybe with some breathing space he would figure out how to keep her away from the topic of the past. He wanted to forget the last months, and that wasn’t denial!
Tiffany blew a curl off her forehead, sighed, and turned away. ‘That would be fine. Thank you for your help. I’ll be busy here for two hours or more. You could also check the water troughs. And when you hear the truck arrive to collect the cheeses, would you come back to help load them? Mum prefers to have someone supervise each pick-up. That way I won’t have to stop work.’
‘No problem. I’ll see to it when they arrive.’ Jack strode away and attacked the hay bales. Throwing them onto the truck felt good, but only because it exercised his muscles in a satisfying way. He wasn’t fed up. Nor did he feel in any way out of control or uptight or concerned that his plan to simply ease back into his friendship with Tiffany was perhaps not going to be as easy as he had hoped.
Jack attended to a half-dozen chores that included the cheese collection. When he and Tiffany joined up again it was almost lunchtime.
Tiff walked ahead of him to her cottage. Her bottom swayed beneath the green overalls. His gaze followed that gentle motion before his brain could catch up and remind him of the folly of doing so.
