Outback Dreams (39 page)

‘I've never roasted marshmallows before,' Pippa said, when Monty ripped open the first packet.

‘It's easy,' he promised. Searching about on the ground, Monty scooped up three sticks and handed one to each of his guests. Will examined his stick and snapped a little off the end to make it straighter.

‘What do we do?' Pippa stared at her own stick like it was an alien space probe.

Monty opened his mouth to explain, but Will took over, plucking a marshmallow from the bag in Monty's hand and shoving it onto the end of his stick. ‘You make sure the marsh-mallow is secured and that your stick is long enough and then you let it hover in the flames.'

Scrunching his face up in deep concentration, Will sort of stepped sideways towards the now roaring bonfire and stretched his arm out so the marshmallow only just hit the warmth. Pippa watched, her expression echoing Will's, and within about twenty seconds, he pulled his hand back.

He smiled as he looked down at the gooey mess on the end of his stick. ‘Apparently they're good to eat like this, but I prefer them straight out of the pack.' He chucked his stick behind him into the darkness and reached back into the packet, plucked out another marshmallow and popped it into his mouth. Pippa laughed as he chewed and Monty chuckled at all the effort they'd gone to when they could have sat inside and eaten from the bag.

But it wasn't the food that made a bonfire, it was the company, and as the evening wore on, he found he enjoyed theirs immensely.

It wasn't like the bonfires he had with his mates. It was quiet by comparison; instead of drunken songs or arguments about which football team might win this year's AFL grand final, discussions centred around the noises of the night and what kinds of animals might be making them. It was peaceful and relaxing and the best night Monty had had with his brother for as long as he could remember.

The next morning when the time came for him to drop Will and Pippa off at the bus stop, he found himself glum at the prospect of being alone again.

The three of them sat on a bench waiting for the bus, Rooster at their feet, and this time Monty wasn't watching eagerly for its approach. Beside him, Will and Pippa held hands and Pippa's head rested on Will's shoulder. Looking on, no one would have guessed the things they had struggled with during their lives. So obviously in love, they could have been the poster couple for a Valentine's Day card.

‘There's the bus,' Pippa announced, taking her bag from her lap and slipping it over her shoulder. She and Will stood. Monty joined them, feeling strangely silly at how much he wished they could stay a bit longer.

While the other passengers boarded the bus, they lingered to thank Monty for an awesome weekend.

‘We'll be back soon,' Will promised as he stepped forward and enveloped Monty in a hug. ‘Thanks, big brother.'

Tears prickled at the corners of Monty's eyes. At that moment, he couldn't have been more proud of Will. Would he be such a well rounded, capable individual if his parents hadn't sacrificed everything they had to help him? They'd been so proactive, seeking out treatment and assistance that wasn't widely available back then, and it looked like all those expensive early-intervention programs had paid off.

Monty realised he was glad his parents had made all those sacrifices, even if he'd missed out on a few things as a result.

As he watched the bus fade into the distance, this knowledge weighed heavily on his mind. He thought about nothing else as he drove back to the farm. Rooster bounced around in the passenger seat, still excited by the extra attention he'd received that weekend. But while the dog was good company, Rooster's love didn't complete him.

Back at Clancy's Breakaway, he discarded his boots at the door, let Rooster bound in ahead, and shut the door behind them. It didn't slam, but the noise echoed through the desolate house. Not in the mood to cook dinner, he grabbed a beer and a large pack of salt and vinegar chips from the pantry and headed for the couch. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, which had been silent all weekend. No joy there either.

With a sigh, he glanced around his house—sparsely fitted out with only the most basic furniture—then looked out the window at the property he'd worked his arse off for over a decade to buy.
What was the point?
There was still a massive gaping hole in his life. In his heart. He still hadn't found the satisfaction he was supposed to.

As usual, Faith was absolutely right.

A house without a family was empty. And a dream with no one to share it with meant nothing. Will, who had struggled his whole life to connect socially with other people, had overcome most of these hurdles and was living a fuller life than Monty.

These walls were empty without Faith's laughter, just as his life was meaningless without her in it. All the feelings he'd been trying to suppress the last few weeks suddenly rushed to the surface.

He needed to see her. Now.

Faith had resumed taking a natural calming tablet before bed. It helped her sleep and ensured her nights weren't filled with nightmares of Monty, but it also made getting up in the morning harder. She'd always been an early riser, but lately Ryan was often up before her, and Daisy was usually craning her head over the fence when Faith arrived, as if wondering whether she was going to show. She got the feeling the cow sensed her sadness. Her milk supply had suddenly dropped dramatically, so that Faith almost didn't know if it was worth persevering, but she wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet.

One morning she walked into the kitchen on her way to the door and Ryan gestured to the table. ‘I made you tea, if you like.'

‘Thanks.' She picked up the mug and let the warmth seep into her fingers. As she lifted it to her mouth, she noticed Ryan was grinning. ‘What's so funny? Is my jumper on back to front or something?'

‘No.' Ryan shook his head with a half laugh. ‘I just woke up feeling happy. Sorry about that.'

She managed a slight smile and drank more tea. It wasn't as though she could expect everyone to walk around grumpy for the rest of her days. Putting the half-empty mug on the table, she said, ‘Thanks for the tea, bro. I'll see you later.'

The gravel crunched under her feet as she crossed the yard to Daisy's paddock, but here was no sign of her. Her heart picking up speed, Faith scanned down the fence line where the cow usually waited.

‘Daisy?' She called, starting to run, frantically squinting across the paddock. ‘Daisy?'

The low rumble of a cow's voice responded. She stopped and listened, realising the sound came from behind her. In the shed. Had Ryan milked her already? Was that why he wore that ridiculous grin? Wary, she turned and started towards the noise.

The door was already open and she strode through, her blood freezing at the sight inside.

Monty
. Sitting on her old stool, milking the cow.

Although he faced away, Faith would recognise that scruffy golden hair and impressive shoulders anywhere. Her belly somersaulted pleasurably. Daisy looked up and Faith swore she actually smiled.
Damn traitorous cow
. She was such a hussy!

In direct opposition, Faith's lips twisted into a scowl. ‘What are you doing here?'

He turned slowly and her heart stopped dead in her chest. Meanwhile downstairs, her lady bits—as Simone would put it— filled with heat and longing. A sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it. Monty may have been her every thought these last few weeks, but the memories had nothing on him in the flesh. She closed her mouth, which she realised was hanging open, and swallowed, hoping drool wasn't dripping down her chin. At that moment she hated herself almost as much as she hated him.

Liar. You could never hate him.

She ignored the voice inside her, crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. ‘Well?'

‘I missed you.'

Those three simple words threatened to unravel her.
I missed you too
. ‘And?'

Monty could miss her all he liked, but it meant nothing unless he'd also had a complete priorities transplant.

He gave Daisy a quick pat then stood. As he moved towards Faith, she stepped back, terrified of what her foolish mind would do if he came too close.

He halted. ‘I've spent the last eight hours trying to work out how the hell to say what I need to say to you. Will you just listen for a few minutes?' His voice shook with emotion.

She couldn't recall a time when he'd been so unsure of himself. ‘Okay.'

They stood awkwardly, like two soldiers facing each other for battle. Daisy cocked her head as if eager to eavesdrop.

‘I had visitors this weekend,' Monty told her. ‘Will brought Pippa down for a stay, and it was really great. We fed the cattle, had a bonfire, went on bushwalks and we talked. I'd forgotten what a top bloke Will is.'

‘Yes, he is.'

Monty took a deep breath. ‘This isn't easy to explain, but the last few weeks haven't been at all how I'd imagined. I had what I'd always wanted—a farm of my own—but I still didn't feel fulfilled. I've been lonely. Having Will and Pippa for the weekend was fun, but it was also an eye-opener. I watched them interacting as a couple and I was happy for Will and … jealous of what he's found with Pippa. They really care about each other. Just being with them made me reassess so many things.'

His voice cracked on the last word. Faith was desperate to close the gap between them and wrap her arms around him. But no. She had to keep up her guard. They both needed him to finish.

‘I've been a fool,' he said and she didn't disagree. ‘I shouldn't resent Will or my parents for the things I missed out on in order for him to have a normal life. And over the last few weeks, all that thinking, then spending time with Will, has made me realise that I don't. I don't resent him at all.'

Faith rolled lips one over the other. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she didn't want to shed them. Not yet. Monty's words were heartfelt. The expression on his face told her this wasn't some speech he'd rehearsed to woo her sympathy, this was something he felt deep in his heart. But he'd made no mention of her, or of them, yet.

‘Will needed more than I did,' Monty continued. ‘It never did me any harm to work hard. All those years of striving have stood me in good stead for any hardships I might face on the farm in years ahead, but I see now that my determination blinded me.'

‘Oh?'

‘Yes.' He took a step towards her and this time she didn't step back. Hope blossomed inside her. She wanted—needed—to hear what he had to say.

‘I was so focussed on getting back what I thought had been taken from me that I missed what was really important. You were right. I did believe I was owed a farm, but that's bullshit. My parents gave me love, a roof over my head and encouragement to pursue my dreams.'

‘What are you saying?'

‘Sorry.' He cursed and ran a hand through his lovely messy mop of hair. ‘I knew I wouldn't be able to get this out right. What I'm trying to say is that I love you. Your love means more to me than anything in the world. Please forgive me for being the biggest tool on the planet. Will you come back with me? Having my own farm is a dream come true, but Clancy's Breakaway is nothing but a shell without you.'

An errant tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. While his words were music to her ears, he still hadn't mentioned children.

‘I do love you Monty, but I need more. I want to have children.'

‘I know.' He rushed forward to take her hands. His touch felt so damn good. ‘I want that too.'

‘You
do
?'

He nodded. ‘I was scared, Faith. All I could think about was what I'd had to give up when we left the farm. If that was how I felt towards Will, what if I felt like that towards my own child? I didn't know if I could make the kind of sacrifices Mum and Dad did. And I also worried about not always being able to be there for a child. Life wasn't easy for Will, and I didn't want that for my child any more than I wanted it again for me. My reasons weren't all selfish; you've got to believe me. I didn't want to be a bad father, so I though it was safer never to be one at all.'

She couldn't believe his logic. ‘Monty, you may have harboured some resentment towards Will, but you never let it show. You never told me any of this. I had no idea. You were the best brother he could ever have asked for. Sure, your parents might have sacrificed things for Will, but so did you. You have an amazing capacity for love in your heart. Don't let fear rob you of it.'

‘I don't want it to. I'm not going to let it. If Will has taught me one thing, it's that life is to be lived. I want to enjoy it with you, not dwell on the past, not fear the future.' A smile brightened his serious expression. ‘So, what do you reckon? Are you willing to give me a second chance?'

That had to be the best question anyone had ever asked.

She laughed. And then she kissed him. It was long and sweet and there was a fair bit of tongue involved. Her insides wobbled and she was glad she could lean into him for support. ‘Sorry, I just had to get that out of my system,' she said when she eventually came up for air.

‘It better not be out of your system. I'm hoping for a lot more of that in our future.' He pulled her close again and hugged her tight, his lips resting on the top of her head. ‘What do you say, Forrester? Will you come back down south with me and give together a shot?'

‘Will I ever!' She took a deep breath, sighed and smiled. There'd no doubt be many more ups and downs in their future, but somehow she knew they'd conquered the biggest one.

They say it's third time lucky, and Faith certainly felt different as she looked around the room at the Perth Ladies' College annual alumnae cocktail party. She was a different person—happy, fulfilled, settled. Lucky? Time would tell. The evening was just kicking off and the winner of the Ms Alumna award wouldn't be announced for a while, but even if she'd raised the least amount of money, she'd won a thousand times over since the last time she'd been here.