Unexpected Delivery Page 5
“Stay still, for Christ’s sake and don’t make any more noise.” Daniel retrieved the stick from the ground and wacked it against the barbed-wire fence, partly out of frustration, partly to get the beasts’ attention.
But he gently touched the cows, encouraging them to the side of the road and out of his path. Some didn’t co-operate as they were enjoying the weeds too much, but as long as they moved, then he could rescue the woman.
“Bloody stupid. What did she think she was doing, running alone, nearly dark, on country roads?” he muttered under his breath, shooing heifers in all directions.
Whether they sensed his mood, or the cows chose not to budge, some stalled refusing to move while others headed directly for the pink and green.
“Shit.” His pulse quickened.
Yes, he was cranky at her stupidity, but that didn’t mean he wanted her trampled by his beasts. In fact, the thought made his stomach constrict. Old wounds would never heal but a woman in distress overwhelmed him. As did his desire to protect her.
“C’mon, move girl, move!”
The animals planted their hooves, appearing to shake their heads in disagreement. Some nipped at the stick he held. Anger rose from Daniel’s toes and burst forth. He threw the stick not caring where it landed and pushed those cows out of his way with his strong and capable hands. Sweat dripped off him.
The effect was immediate. They recognised his touch and willingly complied. But still the minutes crawled by.
Daniel could almost touch her, she stood so close. Her whispered yelps urged him on, his need to reach her increasing with each step. Fear filled the pockets not yet fuelled by anger. His chest ached and he caught his breath.
As the gap closed, she launched herself toward him. She landed on Daniel with such force it winded him. He erupted in coughs, the air knocked right out of him. Despite not being able to catch his breath, she didn’t let go and held on; the outline of her body moulding to his. With one arm now locked, he used his free arm to shoo away approaching cows trying not to notice her voluptuous curves hugging his bumps. He didn’t want the moment to end by being trampled. As seconds passed, she continued to cling to him. He enjoyed the embrace, but he needed to move them away from the herd. Daniel did not consider for one moment they’d hurt either of them, but he wanted to be careful; especially as the woman in his arms liked to squeal. He shuffled his feet taking slow steps toward the fence and away from the mass.
Out of immediate danger as they moved off the road, she released her grip and slumped to the ground. But their bodies still touched as she remained by his side. Daniel formed a protective shield in front of her standing near the fence with his back to the cows. He relaxed his breathing as the cows lost interest and found more grass along the road. Of course, as each threat moved further away, so did she. He felt cold after the warmth of her body.
“Oh my God,” she uttered, patting away imaginary dust and grime from her clothes. Her breaths slowed and her chest settled into smaller heaves. Sweat glistened on her arms, puddling in droplets of liquid at her hands. It made her skin sparkle. She removed her cap and wiped her brow with it and placed her hands squarely on her hips and stared at him.
She looked ready to do battle; his fear disappeared and he thought of how stupid she’d been.
“What the hell did you think you were doing? You are miles from town in an outback country road at dusk? Are you crazy?” he accused.
Her hands shifted higher on her hips and her eyes narrowed.
“I was running and lost track of time and how far I’d come. I was planning to turn around any minute but,” her voice dropped, “I . . . felt so good, running fast, in control, and it was so beautiful and quiet . . .”
“And dangerous,” he said. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here? Yelled for help?”
Before letting her answer, he continued, “This is the country, there is no help around the next corner. You might have been alone for hours or all night. Now, granted, the cows won’t hurt you. They’ll not like it if you prance around making lots of noise, it agitates them, but they’d hardly notice you otherwise. Curious they can be, might smell you a bit, see if you’re offering them anything.” He paused, forgetting his point. “Yeah, so, you’re lucky,” he trailed off. “Big Red, Scarlett, come here!” he yelled off in the other direction and Vivienne jumped again. She inched back closer to him.
The red setter dogs raced down the hill, their coats flying in the wind.
“Good girls, come here,” he patted them, “stay close. If the dogs stir them up,” he gestured to the herd with a nod, “they’ll scatter everywhere, make it harder for me to get them to higher ground, and most likely, I’d have to save you again if they came into your path.” He added a smile and showed his teeth, trying to lighten the situation after his outburst. He wasn’t angry; it’s just that his heart had hitched at the image of her getting hurt.
“Thank you for helping me,” Vivienne said. “Truly, I didn’t realise. I just needed to work off some steam and I wasn’t thinking. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“You must be fit. You’ve run a fair way.”
“Yeah. What do you think, six kilometres maybe?”
“Yep, about that. I’m about six and a half from the town centre and that includes my long drive,” he said gesturing toward the dairy.
As she recomposed herself, her eyes darted to the left and right, checking out her surroundings. Questions flittered across her eyes and her brows arched. Her head bowed and she looked down at her running clothes. Instantly, her arms folded across her chest, a weak attempt at covering up. It accentuated the slight muscles in her arms and allowed the perspiration to roll away. They stood contemplating each other. Vivienne’s gaze bounced around; she shifted from foot to foot.
Daniel examined his hands and realised how dirty they were after his day’s work. His fingernails were black and the cracks and crevices in his hands caked with mud. He must look a sight.
Why did he care?
A small frisson of something occurred within him.
Desire? No, more like excitement or anticipation. A different future flashed before him in a matter of seconds. He turned to look at the woman again and something deep within him lurched, moved, and reignited. His gut ached. Like a stab to his heart he realised he wanted to spend more time with her. This crazy, city woman who stood before him with her wild, red hair and fluorescent exercise gear.
It was Friday night. Normal people went out on weekends to the movies or dinner. And here was a stunning woman standing before him.
He must be crazy.
Or was it time to forgive himself and move on?
Daniel formed the words whilst the cows bellowed behind him and munched on grass and the stars started to twinkle in the sky, as if setting the scene. He took it as a sign.
“I need to get the herd into the next gate for the night. Given it’s getting dark, do you . . .”
A crack of thunder split the sky in half, rumbling to its conclusion with a flash of lightning so bright they were illuminated on the road.
Vivienne jumped and squealed, clutching her hand to her chest.
“Oh, my goodness, I need to go. It’s going to storm,” she started running back the way she came, her hand waving thanks and goodbye. She slipped her cap back on her head.
The half-formed words sat on his tongue weighing it down like a dead weight. His mouth had gone dry. Instead of yelling out the invitation, he lifted his grimy palm in salute.
Then she was gone. A flash of pink and yellow disappearing over the rise.
##
Had she lost her brains on the drive to the country?
The most extraordinary events had occurred since her arrival only one day ago; a lifetime lived in a short span of time. She’d been stupid; her need to run and clear her head overtaking common sense. But boy, that run had felt good! In control, running fast, icy wind in her face, keeping her extremities cold, but her heart pumping. The e
xercise had loosened her limbs and now she moved with less burden. Amongst all these thoughts exploding in her head, one image kept popping up.
The farmer.
His rugged exterior, his brawn of solid shoulders, thick arms and those hands! Imagine what he could do with them?
It had come as a surprise when he spoke. His voice was measured and calm. Granted he was pissed with her, that was obvious, but his words belied a softness. Then, upon looking into those dark eyes, it was impossible not to sink into their depths and want to curl up in his soul. Pain hid behind his façade. Plus, he talked and moved with meaning. Thunder continued to crack on the horizon and she ducked and weaved as she headed back on the road, retracing her steps. At the intersection to the main street, the first raindrop landed on her shoulder with a big, fat, plop.
“Argh! Are you kidding?”
She had planned to walk the rest of the way as her legs had started to seize up on the six and a half kilometre return run, but now she bolted like a racehorse out of the gates at the Melbourne Cup. Exhausted after only a few steps, she stopped, raised her face to the clouds and drank in the rainwater. It tasted pure and fresh, like it came straight from a mountain spring. Water rolled over her face causing steam to rise off her as it hit her clammy skin.
Vivienne held out her arms, embracing the soaking of her skin. Not an inch of her remained dry. It was liberating and she felt alive.
Damn running anymore. She slowed her pace, letting the shower cleanse her. This was just as good as the run. Exhilarated, she let herself back into the cottage but flinched as her runners squelched on the timber floorboards. She didn’t care though about the droplets that followed her each step.
Her head thrummed and she knew what she had to do.
She didn’t belong here in this town of nice folk, hardworking farmers and people just trying to make a living. Vivienne fired up her laptop and let it hum to life as she dried herself with a towel. She couldn’t ruin the computer; it belonged to the bank.
Vivienne checked the time and grimaced. After-hours no one would be sitting at their desks in the corner building on Queen and Ann Streets at the office in Brisbane. No doubt a handful of people would be working late as she often did, but no one would pick up the trilling telephone. Heads would be down, concentrating and adding figures and cross-referencing the details. She could’ve made one quick call and fixed this balls-up. This job in the country rattled her. But, she no longer trembled or felt sick in the stomach. But be dammed if this was the job for her. The bank could find someone else. Desiring familiarity and less confrontation, she needed to be back at her desk, whipping up contracts, displaying her drafting finesse and using her language skills on paper, not in person. Bloody good at her job, she needed to be back in Brisbane to do it. Vivienne shot off an email without even reading it over. That’s how confident she felt. Short, sharp and to the point. They’d replace her if she asked. Annoyed at herself, she should have done this hours ago before the bank shut. By now, she could be packing up her stuff and on the road back home.
Why then did her hand now hover over the mouse?
The decision was the right one. She didn’t belong here, but that damn farmer’s image wouldn’t go away. Vivienne remembered being held in his strong arms. He was never going to let her go. She hadn’t been embraced like that for a long time, perhaps ever. She’d never let anyone else get close enough. Deep down, she knew though, that he would not have allowed her to be harmed. The situation was ridiculous. She didn’t even know him and immediately damped down those fly-away thoughts and would not let the bulb of desire and hope blossom.
Vivienne banged her palm against her forehead. Don’t be stupid, the bank is taking his farm. There can be no chance of connecting with him: she was the enemy. Satisfied with her conclusion, she reclined in the leather chair and released all the air from her lungs. Then, the chill set in. A cold settled deep in her bones as the water cooled on her skin. Watching the wind blowing the branches on the trees outside gave her goose bumps. A loud din reverberated around the cottage as the rain fell on the corrugated-iron roof and the fat teardrops pattered the glass windowpane. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight, best get warmed up. A hot shower would do it. Then what? When her tummy rumbled, her body reminded her of food. Had she been to the shops today? No, she needed to get her shit together. It was Friday night; the weekend and her decision to get back to Brisbane as soon as possible made her lighter and happier. She wanted food and a drink.
She’d go to the pub.
That is what healthy twenty-nine-year-old women did and she deserved a night out. She hoped the country did vegetarian!
Chapter Five
Vivienne tugged off her rain poncho and entered the pub. The warmth heated her cheeks. It felt balmy, so she rolled off her top layer revealing a knitted, beige top paired with skinny jeans.
To keep her toes from dropping off in the extreme wet and chill, tonight she had added her favourite red boots. Though the storm had passed, the rain continued to pummel the earth and everything looked bleak and wet. Rosebrooke had become a different town.
Activity filled the spacious room; people stood at the oak bar that stretched the span of the wall. They rested their arms on it whilst others were secluded in comfy booths with leather seats. Still more customers crowded around small, oval timber tables, hunched in conversation and catching up on the week’s events. If Vivienne had thought the rain would trap individuals indoors by fireplaces, she’d been wrong. People milled in each available corner; regardless of the weather, it looked like half of the town’s population was here.
Smiling faces and joyous laughter buoyed her as she milled through the crowd searching for a spare table. A band hammed it up in the corner, adding to the already piercing noise levels. The music lifted to a crescendo, guitars strummed, drums were struck with ferocity and the front man did an impressive split on his last note. To avoid the racket, Vivienne headed in the opposite direction. She located a table in the far back where people talked quietly as they enjoyed their food.
In the dim light, she squinted to read the menu. She scanned it for vegetarian options. A pub wasn’t necessarily the best choice for her taste preferences. She’d been a vegetarian since she’d moved out of home. The sight of a well-cooked steak covered in pepper sauce transported her back to a past she didn’t want to remember. Fish and chips, beef lasagne, steak, of course, were all standard fare at the tavern. Modern times called for diversity and she prayed it had arrived in Rosebrooke.
Bingo—pumpkin risotto or pesto pasta. They catered well for the tourist market.
A waitress skipped between tables delivering meals and drinks and cleaning up. Aromas caught Vivienne’s nose and her mouth watered.
Catching her eye, the young woman dressed in traditional black pants and white shirt with a long apron of the same colour called on the way past, “I’ll be with you in just a second.”
As she waited for the waitress to return, Vivienne examined the range of drinks. For a country pub, the wine list impressed her.
“What are you thinking of drinking?” A gravelly, deep voice asked as someone plonked down in the facing chair. The breathy air tickled her eardrum and sent shivers up her spine.
When she looked up, intense dark ink pools greeted her with those now-familiar penetrating eyes shadowed by pain that she guessed could tell a thousand stories. He wore a boyish grin that released a tiny, lighter shade of charcoal at the edges of his irises, allowing brightness in to match his smile. It made him appear not so pensive and loosened the dark aura circling him.
Vivienne filled with warmth. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his expression that openly drank her in. A bolt of pleasure made her heart beat faster and her body core temperature rise. It wasn’t the roaring fireplace causing her face to flush and her to shift in her seat.
“What would you recommend?” She held out the drinks menu. He didn’t take it.
“Hmm, a lady like you looks like all class
.” He made the comment with no hint of sarcasm. “So, I’d be guessing a good quality wine and I am presuming red.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “How did you know?”
“Not hard really, a day like today, cool temperatures, a splattering of rain, it’s definitely red wine weather.”
Vivienne’s gaze went to the beer cradled in his hand resting on the table.
Shrugging, he said, “A coldie never goes astray after a hard day of work. I’ll have some wine when I eat.”
“Are you going to eat?” she enquired.
“Are you?”
“Yes, I’m starving and I’ve no food at my place, so I am definitely having dinner.”
“Okay, then I am too.” They stared at one another.
She glanced back at the red wine on offer, “I do need a drink first. What would you suggest? The Merlot or the Cab Sav?”
“You must prefer a stronger palette, no Pinot Noir then?”
Vivienne shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, it tastes lovely, but too light. I prefer more full-bodied ...”
It sounded like she described her preference in men. Had he noticed? She pulled at her knitted collar, seeking cool air to soothe her overheated neck.
Daniel pulled the drinks menu out of her hand and considered it. He didn’t seem to hear her play on words or sense her discomfort. She concentrated on her breathing as he took his time choosing a drink.
“May I suggest a bottle of wine?”
“Sure.”
“Have you tried a Tempranillo?”
“No, I haven’t, but I have heard of it.”
“It sits amongst Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon but not as strong as a Cab Sav. Certainly, not light either, just a pleasant blend in between. They have a nice one here, from California, not Australian I’m afraid. Want to give it a go?”
Vivienne nodded.