Outback Dreams Read online

  ‘Oh, yeah. Definitely.’ Her blue eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve pledged to enter the Ms Alumna of the Year contest.’

  ‘You’ve what?’ Faith was one shock after another this arvo.

  She laughed. ‘I knew that would be your reaction.’

  ‘Bloody oath. You’ve moaned about that stupid contest for years.’ Not only moaned, but flashed the silly alumnae newsletter in his face whenever the contest arose and ranted that she’d never do something like that. ‘You hated that school and you hate those women.’

  He watched Faith rub her lips together and saw a new determination in her eyes. Although she still looked the same—in casual clothes that did nothing to accentuate her figure, and with her hair tied in a high but practical ponytail—something was different, as if her night in the city had changed her.

  ‘It’s hard to explain … but maybe I was wrong about the women who enter the contest.’ She gazed at the ground. ‘They’re not just the charity queens I condemned them as. They have kids, demanding jobs, and they still make time to raise money for important causes. What do I do?’

  He opened his mouth, but the first thing that came to mind was that she helped her dad and brother on the farm. That wasn’t strictly true; Frank and Ryan treated her like hired house help, and she wouldn’t appreciate the reminder.

  ‘See,’ she all but snarled at his extended silence, ‘you can’t think of anything.’

  And damnit, he hated himself, but he couldn’t. What kind of friend was he? ‘Well, what do you want to do?’

  ‘You already know I want to be an equal on the farm, but since that’s not going to happen, I’ve decided to change tack. This is my year. I’m going to make a difference, and I’m going to put some of my needs before Dad and Ryan’s.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  ‘I’m going to organise the best fundraiser you’ve ever seen, look into finishing my degree and, damnit, I’m gonna get myself a man.’

  Although he laughed at her rah-rah attitude, his chest tightened slightly at this last goal. Of course she’d get married one day, and without a doubt, once one of them committed to someone else, their friendship would change. Faith had always been like a sister to him, but potential partners wouldn’t see it that way.

  ‘Right. Well, hit me with the fundraising ideas.’

  She grabbed the biscuit container back as if settling in for the long haul. He was about to suggest they migrate into town to The Palace when Adam’s ute roared up the farm track towards them.

  Monty smiled, guessing his friend had seen Faith arrive earlier.

  Adam Burton was as a good a bloke as they came. Hardworking, down-to-earth, willing to lend a hand to anyone and anything. Having recently taken the reins on his family’s cattle property, he was living Monty’s dream. When he leapt out of his ute armed with a six-pack of beers, Faith grinned.

  ‘Hey, boys.’ Adam waved a hand as he strode up the path.

  ‘I’m a girl, if you hadn’t noticed,’ Faith shot back.

  ‘Oh, I noticed all right.’

  Monty sometimes wondered whether Adam was still hung up on Faith—even though it was years since they’d dated—but the one time he’d asked her, she’d shut him down so quickly he hadn’t dared to even joke about it again. Adam had dated on and off over the years but, like Monty, he’d never committed to anything serious.

  Landing beside them, Adam raised his eyebrows and tore three beers from the pack. They sighed in unison as they popped the caps and took a first satisfying mouthful.

  Adam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pointed his bottle up at the cottage. ‘You come to check out Monty’s handiwork?’

  ‘Not exactly, but that was a bonus. What you guys have done with this place is unreal.’

  Adam grinned. ‘You should see the plans Mum and Ruby have for the inside. Should have it ready for guests by spring.’

  ‘So, it’s going to be some sort of farm-stay-slash-B&B?’ Faith asked.

  ‘Yeah. A country retreat for city folks tired of the rat race.’ Adam shrugged, his expression turning serious. ‘But I don’t care if we don’t get many takers. I really just wanted to give Mum a project to focus on.’

  The three of them were quiet for a moment. No doubt Monty’s friends were thinking along the same lines as he was, wondering if anything would ever draw Esther Burton out of the black hole she’d submerged herself in when her daughter went missing two decades ago. Where Monty’s mission was to save enough money to buy his own farm, Adam often seemed ambivalent to life on the land but wanted desperately to resuscitate his family.

  Not liking the maudlin mood that had settled, Monty changed the subject. ‘Faith was just about to tell me about a project of her own.’

  Adam looked up. ‘Spill,’ he instructed as he leaned back against a post.

  As Faith took a deep breath, a flicker of red flashed across her cheeks and Monty saw uncertainty in her eyes.

  ‘Go on. I bet your ideas will be awesome.’

  ‘Okay. So last night I was in Perth for the Perth Ladies’ College alumnae dinner.’ She quickly gave Adam a rundown of the contest. Having attended an equally elite boys’ school, he’d heard of it before. ‘Well,’ she continued, ‘this year I’ve decided to organise a fundraiser of my own. A ball to raise money to train companion dogs for autistic kids.’

  Monty stiffened. Growing up with Will, autism had been the focus of near-on every conversation in his family. He hated that every time someone mentioned the condition he got on the defensive.

  ‘Sounds like fun,’ Adam said, taking another sip of beer.

  Monty said nothing.

  Faith played with her ponytail, twisting it around her fingers. ‘This morning at Monty’s parents’ house I saw this brochure about an organisation that trains dogs to help autistic children. Jenni and I were talking about how great one of these dogs would have been for Will, and when I read the brochure I almost fainted at the cost of them. Not everyone that needs a dog has the money and they rely on lots of fundraising and donations, so I thought I’d hold a Barking Ball—barking because of the dogs—as my event.’

  Her hands made excited gestures as she spoke. ‘I’m thinking it’ll be like a regular ball in that everyone will dress up, pay an entrance fee, which will likely include dinner and drinks, but I’ll also have other things happening on the night. Maybe an auction, raffles, anything else I can come up with between now and then.’

  ‘Where will you hold it?’ Adam asked. ‘In Perth?’

  Faith shook her head. ‘Nope. I’m going to try to find somewhere in Bunyip Bay. How often do people up here get to enjoy a flash night out? I know the women in town will love the opportunity to dress up, and I can’t wait to see you two in suits.’

  ‘Who said I’d come, never mind wear a suit,’ Monty sulked, then immediately regretted it.

  Faith shot him a look that said “You’ll come," and she was right, he probably would.

  ‘Well I’m happy to help in any way I can,’ Adam said. ‘The cause is a great one—especially with Will. I think you’ll ace it.’

  ‘Thanks, Adam.’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d do something for breast cancer.’ Monty couldn’t keep the accusation out of his tone, but thankfully Faith didn’t seem to notice.

  She rubbed her lips together again, then shrugged one shoulder. ‘I did think about it. Obviously.’ Faith’s mum had died of breast cancer not quite eight years ago now. ‘But breast cancer already gets such fabulous support,’ she continued. ‘I wanted to choose an organisation in greater need. And it’s also for Will. He’s had to fight all his life for people to treat him normally. This is my chance to show him how amazing I think he is. Sort of like a tribute.’

  Monty swallowed the lump of unease that had formed in his throat. ‘In that case, like Adam, I’m at your service.’ He took a theatrical bow and raised his bottle. ‘Let’s show them city chicks how we do it in the bush.’

  Chapter Four

&nbs
p; Monty yawned. His eyes watered as he stared at his computer, at the bank balances and paperwork laid out across his desk. When Adam’s six-pack was gone, his friends had convinced him to head to the local pub. They’d shared a counter meal and he’d lost count of the number of drinks they’d consumed, although he knew for certain he’d not had half as many as them.

  Now, while Faith slept it off in the spare room and Adam on the couch, Monty promised himself just one more calculation. He took a much-needed gulp of water from the glass beside him and sighed, trying not to get carried away with the tiny spark of hope inside him. But he couldn’t help a small smile. This was it, he was sure of it. After years of working his arse off on other people’s farms, then working on the crayfish boats between seasons, he was finally close to achieving his dream—a farm of his own. So close, he could close his eyes and see it, smell it even—the dry but prosperous paddocks, the earthy smells of livestock, the sheds, the dams, maybe even a windmill and a verandah. He grinned and leaned back in his chair, confident that his friends were asleep and wouldn’t see him sitting here smiling like a loony.

  Okay, there was one thing the Paynes’ property didn’t have that he wanted—a veranda right around the homestead—but he was good with his hands. He’d build one. Everything else was perfect. The farm had come on the market a few weeks ago, just when he finally had a deposit that the bank wouldn’t sneeze at. It was the right size, had both crops and Australia Suffolks-sheep with which he was familiar—and it was here, only fifteen minutes drive from Bunyip Bay, the place he’d spent his teenage years longing to return to. If he couldn’t get back the family farm, he wanted something as close to his childhood memories as possible.

  A truck screamed past outside, and Monty leaned forward and peered through the curtain. His days of living on the main street of town were over. Soon he’d be back in the peaceful solitude of a farm. Tomorrow he had an appointment with the local bank manager, and he felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. With the deposit he’d saved and his track record of working hard, how could they turn him down?

  Allowing one last glance over his business plan, he closed the folder and decided it was time to at least try to sleep. He stood, switched off the kitchen light and headed into the lounge room. He laughed at Adam snoring on the old couch and pulled the curtains shut and the blanket back over him. He didn’t envy the headaches his friends would have in the morning, but it had been a fun night. Burning with excitement for her new project, Faith had been happier than he’d seen her in ages.

  Faith. Once upon a time, sleepovers had involved camping out on their families’ lounge room floors, but now they both treasured their sleep and comfort. She was the main reason he had a spare bed, so if they ever had a big night in town, she didn’t have to drive back home. She hadn’t used it in a while though; Ryan and Frank seemed to be demanding more and more of her.

  He grinned again, recalling the text message she’d sent them only a few hours ago, telling them she wouldn’t be home in time to make them dinner. Knowing Faith, she had the freezer loaded with emergency dinners, but still… He came to the door of the spare room, which was ajar. He didn’t plan to go in, but he noticed her blankets had been tossed right off and she was groaning in her sleep. Was she having a nightmare?

  He crept into the room, froze as she made another noise, but then tiptoed towards her when she stopped again. The light from the hall fell across Faith’s face. Her forehead was dripping in sweat, but her expression was strangely peaceful. She was far more beautiful than she gave herself credit for. After a brief internal debate about whether or not to wake her, he covered her with a sheet and headed back out. Whether it was a bad dream, the alcohol working its way out of her system or something else entirely, hopefully it’d be gone by morning.

  At the buzzing of the alarm on her mobile, Faith rolled over and instinctively stretched out to quieten the blasted thing. When her hand met nothing but air and then thumped down against the side of the bed, she blinked her eyes open. Memories from the previous day flooded her mind, setting off a headache that had been lying in wait for her to wake up so it could announce itself as a hangover.

  Why-oh-why had she let herself talk Monty and Adam into a big night out on a Sunday?

  All but falling out of bed, she stumbled across the room to her backpack and rummaged for her phone. The barking dog was not at all kind to her throbbing head.

  ‘Oh, Lord.’ Groaning, she located her boots on the floor and tugged them over the socks she’d been too exhausted to take off last night. She couldn’t wait to get home, into a shower and fresh clothes. After stuffing everything into her bag, she made the bed and headed into the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

  ‘Good morning.’ Monty’s far-too-chirpy voice slammed into her senses, sparking a flashback to a dream she’d had last night. A dream she hadn’t even remembered until this second.

  Oh. Sheesh.

  Her cheeks suddenly hot, Faith excised that memory from her mind and opened her mouth to snipe at Monty, but her jaw locked open at the sight before her. She swallowed, her gaze drawn to her friend’s bare chest—definitely as tanned as she’d told the alumnae girls—and the navy blue track pants on his legs. It was autumn for crying out loud, why didn’t he put on more clothes? As she took in his damp hair and the glisten of newly showered skin on his fabulous builder’s shoulders, the rest of the dream came barrelling back.

  And she couldn’t believe what it had involved.

  She wanted to slam her hands over her eyes, then order Monty to go and put a shirt on. She’d seen him like this before—hell, they’d taken baths together as kids, and even skinny-dipped at the beach one time—and she’d never been remotely affected, so such a request was out of the question. He’d want to know why she suddenly had a problem with bare skin.

  ‘Breakfast?’ he asked, turning to open an overhead cupboard.

  She finally noticed the smell of bacon and the sizzle of the frying pan, but her stomach churned at the thought of putting any food into her mouth.

  ‘No thanks.’ Trying to sound normal, she averted her gaze from Monty’s sculpted back and took a quick breath. ‘I’d better get back to the farm. They’ll be worried about me.’ More like worried she wouldn’t have lunch on the table.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Yes. All right.’ She licked her lips, which felt parched—had to be the effect of the alcohol. ‘I’ll just grab a glass of water and be off.’

  Before she could source a glass, Monty handed her a full one. In his other hand he proffered a tube of Berocca. ‘Want one of these too?’

  ‘No thanks.’ The Berocca would take too long to fizz, but she smiled, her nerves settling at Monty’s normalness. He’d always looked out for her. She adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and waved. ‘Thanks for the bed. I’ll see ya later.’

  ‘Wait a sec.’ Monty turned away from his cooking and held his arms wide open. ‘Aren’t you going to wish me luck for today?’

  She stilled, racking her brain for why he needed luck, all the while her crazy errant nerve ends dancing the cha-cha at the thought of falling into his arms.

  How much did I drink last night?

  He shook his head, laughed a little. ‘Geez, your head must be pounding. You can’t remember what’s happening today?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘Clue?’

  He snorted, but she detected genuine hurt behind feigned humour. ‘I’ve got my appointment with the bank.’

  ‘Oh, God damn!’ She wanted to smack herself up the side of her head; instead she rushed forward and fulfilled her half of the hug. ‘Of course. I knew that.’ Pulling back, she looked into his eyes. ‘How d’you feel?’

  ‘Good. I was up late going over my paperwork, but I’m in a good position and my calculations look positive.’

  ‘Of course they do. You’re awesome,’ she said, smiling as she repeated his words of the day before.

  ‘I want this so badly, Faith.’ The expression on
his face said it all.

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘You think a suit and tie is going over the top?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. You want to look like you mean business. Do you want me to go with you?’

  ‘No, but thanks. I’ve been working towards this for ten years. I can do it.’

  A lump formed in Faith’s throat at Monty’s steely determination. She hugged him again so he wouldn’t notice her getting all girly and tearing up. ‘Go get ’em, buddy.’

  ‘Am I interrupting anything?’ Adam’s voice startled Faith. She’d forgotten he’d also stayed the night.

  ‘No, course not,’ Monty said over the top of her head.

  ‘Just wishing Monty luck for his appointment.’ She pulled out of his arms and spun around. Like Monty, Adam wore only trousers—faded Wrangler jeans in his case—and he had shower-damp hair too, but Faith’s heart didn’t threaten cardiac arrest at the sight of him bare-chested. Which meant the alcohol wasn’t to blame for her reaction. Oh. No.

  ‘Oh, yeah, the big bank meeting.’ Adam nodded. ‘You’ll be great.’

  Monty grinned. ‘Thanks, mate. Can I get you some breakfast before you go?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Patting his six-pack abs, Adam crossed the room and bent down to his bag on the floor. He pulled out a t-shirt, yanked it over his head and took a chair.

  Faith stared at him, desperate to feel something at the sight of his upper arm muscles contracting as he reached across the table for yesterday’s Sunday Times. But … nothing. Absolutely nothing. That had also been the problem ten years ago when she and Adam had attempted a relationship. On the surface, Adam was a good-looking guy, so good-looking in fact that he’d once been hunted by Cleo magazine to be one of their Bachelors of the Year. But where he and Faith were concerned, there was absolutely no spark. Their break-up had been a mutual decision.

  Maybe that’s why her fluttery libido didn’t react to his near-nakedness now. Prior knowledge overruled good looks. But that didn’t account for why her knees were suddenly knocking at the sight of Monty. It had to be because she’d told all those women she was dating him. See what kind of trouble came of lying?