Page 26 of Jillaroo from Jacaranda

Gritting his teeth, he reached for the taps and turned the shower off. He yanked the shower curtain back, stepped out and grabbed his towel. After drying off with determined purpose, he wrapped it around his waist and stomped down the hallway. Searching through his drawers, he chose the bright yellow Minion pyjamas his sister had sent him for his birthday. If they didn’t stop him wandering over to Rose’s cottage, looking like a human banana, nothing would.

An hour later, after demolishing a toasted sandwich and washing it down with an ice-cold beer, Ty was stretched out on the lounge, his feet crossed at the ankles, turning the pages of the self-help book his psychiatrist had given him three sessions ago. It was all about opening up and allowing the vulnerability he was so terrified of to heal him. At some point, he knew this theory had to be put to the test, but he was yet to find the courage to do so, or the person he could trust enough to do it with. Which was crazy in itself. He’d spent years with bullets and rockets firing overhead, watching comrades throw themselves on top of live grenades, carrying bleeding brothers-in-arms through live fire, and although they’d at first done it for their country, it had quickly become a life-or-death situation where they were doing it for each other. An infantryman fights for the man next to him, and that man fights for the man next to him, and on it goes – a war where their number one goal is to see their comrades walk through the doors of the airport safe and sound so they can tumble into the arms of loved ones rather than being sent home in a body bag.

And then there was the other side of the coin. So many of the men and women who had made it home had taken their own lives – casualties of war in the safety of their homes. Ty didn’t want to be another name added to the list. Yes, he’d made it home safe, but not sound. He’d pushed through fears most men would never have to, and he’d been awarded for his bravery with medals he pinned to his jacket. Yet here he was, over a year after losing his father, fighting his own war now, a battle within himself to find the peace and serenity most civilians took for granted.

If he found it, he’d never let it go.

Placing the book down on the coffee table, he came to his feet and wandered over to the window where he’d have the best view of the cottage. No lights shone out into the night now. Unless Rose was sitting in darkness, staring at the star-studded sky, she’d be tucked up in her bed. Smiling to himself with the thought of her at peace, he switched off the lamp and wandered up to bed, wishing he would be climbing in beside Rose. He knew, without a doubt, if that were the case, he’d have the soundest sleep he’d had in forever.

* * *

The strident cock-a-doodle-doo of Colonel the rooster stirred Rose from her sleep, where her dreams weren’t making any sense and she was floating in midair. Blinking open heavy eyes to golden shafts of sunlight sneaking between the parted curtains, she briefly pondered the fact that her reality didn’t make much sense right now either. Nevertheless, she was going to do her best to go with it. What other choice did she have?

Sighing, she rolled over and grabbed her mobile phone from where she’d tossed it on the spare side of the bed at some ungodly hour. She knew she shouldn’t listen to the voice message again, but she couldn’t help herself. Just one more time, she told herself, and then she would delete it. Stabbing the icon for messages, she put it on loudspeaker, placing placed the phone on her quickly rising and falling chest.

‘Hi Rose, it’s me, Finley.’

He sounded more than a little tipsy.

‘Sorry to call you so late, but I’m laying here thinking about how much I miss you. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I don’t know if I did the right thing by breaking up with you. It’s just … we were fighting so much, and I didn’t want to argue anymore. I was so confused, and after talking with Mum and Dad, they steered me towards us parting ways. They said it would be for the best, but I’m not so sure about that anymore … Anyway, I wanted you to know that I do still love you. Call me, if you like. Or don’t. It’s up to you.’

Rose hung up, buried her head into a pillow and screamed.

He’d had so much to say, and yet there was not one mention of him being sorry for tearing her world in two, or for smashing her heart to smithereens. Just some lame excuse it was his parents’ fault. Talk about passing the buck. Looking back on their relationship he’d done that with her quite a lot too – it had always been her fault when they’d argued, and it would be her saying sorry to reinstall peace between them. Well, there’d be no more of that. This wasn’t her doing. He was a big boy, with his own mind and if he loved her as much as he was saying, he would never have let her go.

Damn him to hell for continuing to take her on an emotional rollercoaster. She was exiting this ride. She should call him back to tell him so. But would he eventually talk her around to going back to him?

Quite possibly.

As much as she wanted to walk away from him, and their battered and bruised relationship, she had spent many years by his side, some of them happily, so it was easier said than done. Her heart said one thing and her head said another. After countless hours of toing and froing in her head, she was tired of trying to referee over which one was right. Her very first night at Wildstone Station and Finley had ruined it – so much for coming here to heal. If his voice message was anything to go by, he wasn’t going to make it easy. Maybe she should just block his number, so he couldn’t ruin another night’s sleep? It didn’t take her long to decide. Grabbing her phone, she did just that. There, now there was no way for him to steer her in any direction. She was free to make her own mind up, in her own time.

Climbing from the bed, she wandered over to her dressing table, looking to where she’d neatly placed her perfumes, make-up, hair stuff and a photo of her big, wonderful family, taken on Christmas Day. She looked at the tall, handsome man beside her in the photo, his smile as warm and wide as the outback sky on Wildstone Station. She hadn’t noticed before how his hand had been resting so protectively upon her shoulder, nor had she stopped to see just how close he had stood to her. A peaceful sensation filled her flustered heart. The world seriously did work in mysterious ways. Could Ty Parker be the answer to her prayers? A special man sent to help her heal? She liked to believe it, and she was going to make damn sure he knew just how grateful she was for his gracious invitation to stay here.

Bringing her gaze to the mirror, she grimaced. With red-rimmed, puffy eyes and crazy bed hair, she was a sight. It had been well after midnight when she’d finally cried herself to sleep, and even then, it had been fitful. Staring at her reflection in the light of day, she made a quiet promise to stop torturing herself. She needed a stiff upper lip if she was going to enjoy this outback adventure. Her time here was an opportunity to start a new chapter of her life, and she envisioned the story she was about to begin to have a very happy ending.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. She could hear her mum’s voice calming her.

Everything will work out exactly as it’s meant to.

When she opened her eyes again, she shook off the negativity of her restless night before heading for a nice hot shower.

Half an hour later, she headed into the kitchen, humming to herself. A fresh loaf of grain bread was in a cane basket, along with sugar, tea, coffee and a packet of sesame crackers, and the pantry was minimally stacked with the essentials. A quick look in the fridge told her Ty had thought of everything – she had a bowl of eggs, bacon, milk, butter, a crisper drawer filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, deli-style cheese and ham, a fresh pack of sausages and some scotch fillet steak. She almost had to pinch herself – what kind of man thought of such things, let alone went out of his way to buy them? Never in a million years would she have believed she’d land herself in a place so picturesque, with a fellow human being who was as thoughtful as she liked to believe herself to be.

Miracles really did happen.

An hour later, satisfied with her poached eggs on toast and a glass of Milo – milk first then the Aussie staple and never stirred in – and dressed in her denim shorts, a long-sleeve Ariat shirt and her trusty old RM Williams ankle boots, Rose found herself wandering out the front door and down the garden path, her heart feeling a little lighter now she had taken back some control. The smells of livestock, manure, hay and sun-baked earth hung heavily in the still air, and she breathed it all in deeply. First stop was to say good morning to Buck and make sure he’d settled into his new bachelor pad. After that, she was going to go with the flow.

Circling the stables, she found her gallant boy on the opposite side of his paddock, his neck stretched over the fence as he and his neighbour, Gretchen, got better acquainted by nuzzling muzzles. His charming characteristics made her so proud to call him hers. Leaving him with his new girlfriend, she wandered on, each step with a little more bounce, as if metaphorically heading in the right direction. Without a cloud in sight, the cobalt sky seemed to stretch on into forever, as did the rolling countryside of Wildstone Station. Ty certainly owned a piece of paradise – what a lucky man he was to call this captivating place home.

A little way up the track, she reached a paddock with a mammoth bull smack-bang in the middle. He turned to her, his beady eyes fierce and his stance staunch as she stopped to admire his physique. He bellowed and she jumped. Her hand over her racing heart, she chuckled to herself. Just like Heath and GG, Ty was one strong man to deal with one-tonne beasts like this big brute, day in, day out.

‘Nice to meet you too, Mr Bull,’ she called out.

The bull snorted and stomped, then dropped his head. Was he about to charge? Feeling safe with the fencing between them, she stood her ground and watched as he came at her like a freight train, jerking to a sliding stop, as if someone had just pulled a handbrake on, stopping just short of the fence. His neck muscles rippled as he flung his head sideways, throwing snot in her direction. A bit of it landed on her boot tip and she grimaced and wiped it onto the grass at her feet.

‘Okay, alright. I get it. You’re big and tough and very scary.’ Smirking, she shook her head as a sharp sting had her slapping a march fly from her thigh. ‘Bloody hell, talk about everything out here being a little tougher.’ She looked back up to see the bull glaring at her. ‘My god, get over yourself, would you?’ She turned and strode away. ‘Males and their damn testosterone,’ she mumbled to herself.

Reaching a thick part of the surrounding bushland, she had just turned around to make her way back – she didn’t want to risk getting lost in such an unforgiving place – when a chime from her back pocket had her reaching for her mobile. ‘Hey, Mum.’