socks. They’d been friends at school, they’d fallen into dating and they’d kept dating until suddenly Charlie had woken up one morning and realised he was heading for marriage with the daughter of the town tramp. When he’d cut her adrift she’d been hurt and angry, but she hadn’t been heartbroken. Sometimes when she looked at romantic movies, seen friends marry, she’d felt like that part of her had simply not been formed. She’d been born without it.
Now… What she felt for Luke.
It was as if she knew him at some level she couldn’t possibly understand.
She knew Luke’s story—between Gladys and the Harbour night shift she knew more than she’d ever need to know—but this went deeper than that. She’d instinctively joined the dots. Last night she’d said his fear for her was all about his dead wife and she knew it was. A lonely child, a tragic marriage … A man who walked alone.
He made her feel …
She didn’t know how he made her feel. She felt … She felt …
She felt like she had cramps in her stomach, she decided. She felt like she needed to roll over in bed and put her pillows over her head, which was exactly what she did.
Avoid stress? Ha!
Luke worked with Tom, stringing wires between the fencing posts they’d put in the day before, then going on to rewire fences further along the creek.
All the time he worked he expected her to come.
She didn’t.
‘You two still fighting?’ Tom said at last.
‘We’re not fighting. She’s had gastro. She overdid it yesterday. She should spend the day in bed.’
‘Then why are you wiring fences?’ Tom asked bluntly. ‘With a woman like that in your bed.’
‘She’s in the guest bed.’
‘More fool you. She’s a good ‘un.’
‘There speaks an authority on all women,’ Luke said. ‘Curmudgeonly old bachelor that you are.’
‘Had a woman once,’ Tom said reflectively, astonishingly. ‘Liseth.’ He sighed. ‘I thought maybe I had a chance, that our family hadn’t stuffed me completely. But with parents like ours you don’t rush into relationships. Anyway, I got drafted; Vietnam War. I was stupid enough to tell her to go out with other guys while I was away. I met her twenty years later, married to a car salesman. I walked into the office and she was there. She told me about her husband and her kids. All very polite. Then at the end when her husband was shifting the car she turned to me and exploded.
‘I would have married you,’ she said. ‘In a heartbeat. Even if we’d only had those two months before you went overseas, it would have been enough.’
‘Tom …’ The vehemence of his uncle’s voice shocked him.
‘Yeah,’ Tom said. ‘I was a fool, like you were a fool with Hannah; but in your case the fool part wasn’t one-sided. So we’ve made mistakes, do we have to keep making them? Enough. All I’m saying, boy, is life’s short and she’s a good ‘un. Now let’s get this wire done. And I want to talk to you about my arm. I damn near dropped the chainsaw on Friday. I reckon I might have tennis elbow.’
‘Chainsaw elbow,’ Luke said, and the old man grinned.
‘You doctors have fancy names for everything.’
‘Hi.’
The men turned and saw Lily at the edge of the clearing.
Uh-oh. How much of the conversation had she heard? Just the end, Luke hoped, though the silence in the bush meant sound travelled.
‘I’m feeling better,’ she said. ‘I wanted to stretch my legs. And, no, Luke, I’m not about to ride another of your horses, even though I had to duck round Glenfiddich’s paddock so he wouldn’t see me. And I’m not here to interfere. I’ll keep on walking.’
‘Keep walking with Luke,’ Tom growled. ‘He’s done enough for one day.’
‘So must you if you have chainsaw elbow,’ Lily said, teasing a smile from the old man.
‘Nah, I’m fitter than the pair of you,’ he retorted. ‘You head off and do what a young feller and his lady ought to do.’
Luke looked at Lily and Lily looked at Luke, and Luke put down his tools.
What was it that a young feller and his lady ought to do?
They walked slowly back to the house. She was walking a bit gingerly.
‘Your tummy’s okay?’ he asked.
‘Recovering nicely.’ Her tone said not to go there.
‘Rest this afternoon.’
‘You should tell Tom to rest,’ she said. ‘Not that he will when you’re around. He’s lonely.’
‘Tom—lonely!’
‘He’s like you,’ she said softly. ‘He drives people away. I met Patty Haigh up on your north boundary fence when I was walking …’
‘Patty!’ Patty was the cheerful next-door neighbour who cooked and cleaned for Tom. She was the mother of seven sons. She was always ready for a gossip—not that he and Tom gossiped.
‘She worries about Tom,’ Lily said.
‘Tom’s okay.’
‘She doesn’t like him being on his own.’
‘Neither do I,’ he said. ‘That’s why I bought adjoining land.’
‘Why don’t you commute?’ she asked curiously. ‘Patty says you can get to the Harbour in forty minutes from here.’
‘An hour and a half at peak hour.’
‘Since when do doctors travel at peak hour? You can fit your hours around traffic.’
‘Tom doesn’t want me here.’
‘That’s not what Patty says. He needs family.’
‘He doesn’t want family. Neither of us do.’
What did Lily know about Tom? he thought. Lonely? Tom was as fiercely independent as he was. But. Tom’s revelation of moments ago had shaken him.
Regardless, it was nothing to do with Lily.
The chainsaw revved up behind them. He winced. He hated Tom using power tools when he wasn’t here; it was a risk, the price they both paid for independence.
He blocked it out. Or tried to. He tried not to care.
‘You want to go back and help?’ Lily asked, looking concerned.
‘He wouldn’t thank me.’
‘Like my mum doesn’t thank me for caring,’ she whispered. ‘Sometimes you have to do what you have to do.’
‘And sometimes you need to back off.’
‘Like you have from everyone?’
‘Butt out,’ he said, trying to sound good humoured. If she was to pry into his personal life, the next four weeks would be endless.
‘You made phone calls on my behalf,’ she said mildly. ‘Do you call that butting out?’
‘That’s …’
‘Different,’ she said cordially. ‘You can butt into my life, but I can’t do the same in yours.’ She glanced back along the track. ‘That chainsaw …’
‘He doesn’t want us! He’s vowed not to want anyone.’
‘Like you?’
‘I wouldn’t know. Tom and I don’t talk of it. What business