Wildflower Ridge Page 3

  ‘Glad Dad’s driving your car home, Pen. Those topsy-turvy blinkers are all over the shop. The boys will be out in a minute with the last suitcases.’

  ‘You’re a gem, Diana. And thanks for picking me up from hospital. Vince would have driven me home if his flight weren’t booked for this afternoon.’

  ‘Sure he would’ve,’ Diana said, tucking her white shirt back into a denim skirt Penny recognised as one of her older sister’s wardrobe staples. ‘Speak of the devil,’ Diana murmured, nodding over Penny’s shoulder.

  Vince and Angus emerged from the building, each holding a suitcase.

  Penny climbed out of Diana’s car. She smoothed down her floral dress and pulled her linen jacket around herself, as a cool breeze followed her father and her lover across the busy road.

  The difference between Angus’s and Vince’s clothes was as clear as the divide between the lives they led, and the two worlds that had shaped Penny so far. She buried her head into Vince’s chest, glad he was wearing a jacket so her make-up didn’t stain his pinstripe shirt. You’re stronger than this, Penny McIntyre. Where’s the go-getter who earned back-to-back Employee of the Year awards? Business is business.

  She straightened up and lifted her chin.

  ‘You’d better smash this secondment, Vince. By the time I get back to Melbourne, I expect you to have the Sydney office on track for their strongest sales period on record, right?’

  ‘That sounds a bit more like the girl I love. We’ll both be back in Melbourne before you know it, babe.’ He winked and kissed her on the tip of her freckled nose. And with a handshake for Angus and a smile, he slipped into a taxi and was driven away.

  Five

  Penny stretched in her seat, angling her face away from the sunshine that flooded in through the windscreen as they headed west into the afternoon sun. Her body ached with every pothole they hit, mocking her brave front at the hospital where she had waved away the doctor’s concerns about the four-hour car journey ahead. After three and a half hours on western Victoria’s crumbling roads, she conceded his point. He was right. It’s like being run over by a truck, she silently admitted. Not long now, then I’ll curl up into bed and sleep off the road trip.

  She drifted in and out of sleep throughout the drive. Angus’s faded work shirt was rolled up to his elbows. One arm rested against the window, the other was draped over the steering wheel. It was a stance more accustomed to the cab of his ute or the old Leyland truck. His conservative 90 kilometres per hour felt especially slow in her sporty European car, which spent more time parked in the garage than on the open roads. She watched his attention dart from the traffic to the paddocks beyond, his lips moving in time to the songs on the radio station he had commandeered.

  ‘Nearly home. Have a good kip?’

  Penny nodded half-heartedly, wincing as the small movement rippled through her stiff body. She was grateful she had family who were willing to give up their day to collect her from hospital, pack her city life into the back of two cars, and trek the 400-odd kilometres back before the kangaroos flocked to the dusky roads.

  ‘You’ll come good after a decent rest. It’ll be okay, love.’

  Penny shut her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. She wanted to take comfort from her father’s words and wished she could share his matter-of-fact view, but the more she stewed on her enforced leave and Vince’s abrupt departure, the more she knew it was far from okay. If she hadn’t messed up so badly, she wouldn’t need to be ferried back to the farm—the opposite direction to her promotion and her relationship.

  ‘Kids will be happy to see you.’

  The thought of her niece and nephews brought a smile to her face.

  ‘I guess that’s one benefit of convalescing at home.’ Penny saw disappointment flicker across Angus’s face. Way to go, Pen. She reached out to touch his tanned arm.

  ‘Sorry, Dad, that didn’t come out right. I appreciate you helping me out …’ She trailed off as Angus turned the steering wheel. The car slowed to almost 60 kilometres per hour as a large blue sign proclaiming ‘Welcome to Bridgefield—population 200’ rolled past, almost in slow motion. Penny looked away.

  ‘Love, we jumped at the chance. You’re no inconvenience and anyone who thinks otherwise is a darn fool,’ he said quietly.

  Penny knew Vince would have a lot of ground to make up before Angus would warm to him. Hell, he might have a lot of ground to make up before I warm to him again, depending on how these next ten weeks pan out.

  ‘You’ll probably notice a few changes around the place. Tim’s come up with some good initiatives. He’s a real go-getter, that lad.’

  Penny’s ears pricked up but she kept her gaze out the window.

  ‘We’re working together most days now. Don’t know what I’d do without him.’

  She waited to hear more about Tim, but her father stayed silent as the sun dipped down to the horizon, its final bow for the day. From the sound of things, ‘that lad’ was becoming the son Angus never had. And from the sound of his new role at the farm, she would have little chance of avoiding him in the coming weeks.

  The noise of barking dogs shook Penny from her sleep. She realised the car was no longer moving. A welcoming party had gathered on the front porch of the farmhouse to watch her return to McIntyre Park. Lara and Sam with their daughter Evie. Diana’s husband Pete with their four boys. Angie, whose orange curls were gathered in a messy bun and clashed happily with the red, polka-dotted apron she wore.

  ‘Home, sweet home.’

  Her father’s voice came from behind Penny as he removed her biggest suitcase from the boot. Penny wiped grit from her eyelashes, ran her tongue across her dry lips and wished she had a hairbrush handy. The children fidgeted impatiently on the front steps, their hands waving furiously to match their eager smiles. She saw their attention diverted beyond her car and the children overflowed down the steps as Diana pulled in close to the house.

  ‘Mummy,’ yelled a blond pair of boys in matching flannel shirts, launching themselves at Diana’s legs as soon as she emerged.

  ‘Hey, Elliot. Hey, Harry. I should go away more often, I think they’ve actually missed me,’ Diana said, sending a wink in Penny’s direction.

  The littlest McIntyre—Leo—wasn’t far behind them and Penny smiled at the baby commando-crawling across the lawn. He’d barely been rolling, let alone crawling, last time she was home. The two oldest children—Cameron and Evie—looked like they were in clear collusion, whispering between themselves as they rushed towards Penny’s vehicle. She unfolded herself from the passenger seat like an accordion, the aching in her hips and knees making her movements jerky after the long drive.

  ‘Welcome back, Aunty Pen,’ the pair chorused, sounding like siblings rather than cousins. Their gangly limbs folded around her in a three-person hug, both children almost a head taller than when she’d last seen them.

  ‘Thanks, guys. I can’t believe how much you’ve both grown. You must be eating your parents out of house and home.’

  Penny allowed herself to be led towards the house, wrapping one arm around Cameron’s shoulders for support. Evie vibrated with excitement as she clasped Penny’s other hand, proudly presenting her to the rest of the family.

  Angie stepped forward. The youngest of the McIntyre clan, what she lacked in birth order, she made up for with size and personality. She climbed down the stairs, bringing a gust of baking aromas with her, and tugged Penny into an excited hug.

  ‘I’m so happy you’re home. I’ve rustled up the crowd for a family dinner. Hope you’re hungry?’

  Penny mentally farewelled her plans to slip quietly into bed. Faltering under her little sister’s expectant look, she nodded gingerly.

  ‘That sounds lovely. But really, you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,’ Penny insisted.

  ‘Nonsense, it’s the least I can do. It’s been ages since you’ve been home,’ called Angie, her hips swinging as she ascended the steps. ‘Come in, come in. Wait ti
ll you see what’s inside.’

  Six

  Tim sighed as he carried Stella’s suitcase to the car. She stuck out her hand, ripped luggage from his grip and stuffed it into her boot. He tried again to placate her, knowing as well as she did that they could keep going through the motions or they could just call it quits. They hadn’t been particularly well suited, right from the start, but he wasn’t a quitter.

  ‘C’mon, Stella, it’s one dinner. You’ve got to admit they put on a beautiful spread. And Angus invited us ‘specially.’

  Stella slammed the boot, then opened it again to tuck a rebellious suitcase handle back in.

  ‘There’s not enough room for you, me, Eddie, your Nanna Pearl and the whole McIntyre clan in this relationship, Tim.’ Stella kept her hands on her hips as she pressed a dry kiss onto his cheek. ‘You enjoy that meal then. And your precious ute. And your crazy family.’

  He sucked in a sharp breath at her last jibe—both her words and her long hair flicked him in the face as she walked towards Eddie. Eddie stood with one hand on the roof of Stella’s silver sports coupé, puzzling at the seat full of washing baskets, suitcases and a mound of bright fluffy pillows that he had been forever tripping over.

  Tim followed close on her heels, resting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

  ‘Say goodbye to Stella, mate.’

  ‘Stella, Stella,’ said Eddie, a mournful look in his almond-shaped eyes.

  A stroke of annoyance passed through Tim as he watched Stella hesitate and then press his brother into a quick hug.

  Tim hit replay on his CD player, itching to hear Lee Kernaghan singing ‘She’s My Ute’ for a second time as he directed his WB along the back roads of Bridgefield. He’d anticipated tears and an awkward parting as Stella drove off; he just hadn’t expected them to come from his little brother, who seemed much more attached to her than he was.

  Eddie continued staring out the window, leaning against an armrest they hadn’t noticed was battered until Stella had pointed it out last month.

  Tim sang and tapped the steering wheel, spinning the tyres as he rounded the dirt track that took him towards McIntyre Park’s main entrance. He sneaked another look at Eddie and received a scathing glare in return. Tim blew out a resigned breath. He turned towards the majestic red gum trees that flanked the McIntyre Park Merino Stud sign, confident Eddie would perk up when he arrived at the farmhouse and soaked up the female influence that was so strong in the McIntyre family.

  ‘Chin up, mate. Girlfriends are overrated. We’ll save up for our farm much quicker without distractions, you’ll see.’

  Penny started across the driveway, wondering exactly what Angie had concocted. Knowing her sister, it could be anything from a box full of kittens or a triple-decker pavlova to a pop-up beauty salon inside the lounge room, all prepped with lotions, potions and wax strips to try to perk her up. Only Angie, she thought with a smile. Gravel crunched underfoot as she walked towards the weatherboard farmhouse she’d grown up in.

  Pete bounded down the verandah steps, past the thick lavender hedge, and wrapped her in a gentle embrace.

  ‘G’day, stranger. Good to see you.’ His beard tickled as he kissed her cheek.

  ‘Thanks, Pete. Shame it’s not under better circumstances. This was the last thing I was expecting.’

  ‘Chin up, Pen. It’s not the worst thing in the world to have to come home, is it? Pretty sure it could be under much worse circumstances.’

  ‘Too right. You could’ve broken both your wrists and be unable to wipe your own arse. Now that would be a predicament,’ said her other brother-in-law, Sam, clattering down the steps with a wink. He leaned in, the top of his head bumping her cheekbone awkwardly. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of cigarettes and beer. The charismatic man she remembered from her teenage years, when he and Lara had started dating, seemed to have lost his shine and charm as he’d aged. His hair was thinning and the once football-fit body had turned scrawny.

  Sam called out to Angus as he walked towards the vehicles: ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘I’m right, thanks, Sam. It’s not every day Penny comes home from the city. I’ll let you strong lads lug them up the stairs, but at least give me the honour of pulling her suitcases out of the car.’

  Penny waited in limbo, unsure if she was ready to head inside the house just yet. The high volume of Diana’s boys was already making her head pound and Evie was bouncing a tennis ball against the side of the house. But it was an easier option than the verbal sparring that awaited inside with her second-oldest sister Lara. Get over yourself. You’ll have to deal with Lara sooner or later. Watching your life being pulled from the back of two cars isn’t exactly uplifting.

  The sound of a V8 cut through the country air. She pivoted on the gravel, her focus drawn to the dust swirling behind the familiar navy-blue ute. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. None other than Tim Patterson.

  Seven

  Penny watched as the Patterson brothers walked towards the house; so different in size and character but both with grey eyes and sandy-blond hair. Tim had a hand around Eddie’s shoulders. Still as protective of his disabled brother as he was in high school.

  ‘Eddie, do you remember Mac?’

  Eddie’s cheeks puffed up in a smile that made his eyes almost disappear. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he rushed up to hug her. Penny winced as he squeezed her with childish enthusiasm.

  ‘Hello, hello, hello.’

  She couldn’t help but soften at Eddie’s cheerful welcome. He had grown wider but not much taller since she had last seen him, a sprinkle of stubble spreading across his soft jaw.

  ‘Thanks, Eddie, nice to see you again.’

  He clapped his hands together in excitement, bustling to join the men at the back of her car. She watched him go, prolonging the moment before she had to face Tim. A light cotton work shirt stretched across his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled loosely to his elbows. Still as good-looking as ever, she noted resignedly, feeling distinctly worse for wear in comparison. Penny turned her gaze to his scuffed steel-capped boots as he cleared his throat.

  ‘Mac.’

  No one but Tim had ever called her Mac. His casual familiarity as he stood at her family property, apparently about to join them for a family meal, ruffled her composure. His voice was rougher than she remembered, his face lined from days on the tractor and in the paddocks.

  ‘Tim.’ She nodded woodenly. After their break-up in high school, she’d worked hard to keep as much distance between them as possible. Penny lifted her chin, about to join her sisters inside when she saw Eddie carting a small purple suitcase up the stairs, pausing on the top step to shake it like a child with a present under the Christmas tree.

  Her hands flew to her cheeks.

  Tim caught the look on her face.

  ‘What? You worried he’s going to break your suitcase?’

  A nerve twitched in Penny’s eye. She knew the ornate Venetian glass inside would be shattered. No amount of superglue would fix the figurines, and unless she popped over to the northern hemisphere, she knew she would never replace them. Vince was right. They would have been safer in storage after all.

  She felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her and sighed. ‘I should have carried that one myself … it was fragile.’

  Tim called out to Eddie, the edge in his voice evident. ‘You’re being careful, aren’t you, mate?’

  Eddie looked up. ‘Like a music box.’

  He put the suitcase close to his ear and shook it again, fascinated with the tinkling of broken glass. Tim groaned.

  ‘Sorry, Mac. I’ll replace it.’

  ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

  Penny could still remember the last time she’d said those words, had lied in exactly the same way as if the ruined item was only a cheap, replaceable possession. Her assistant had stumbled while carrying a tray of coffee, just minutes before a crucial marketing presentation. Penny had nailed the pitch in a hastily
borrowed outfit, but her coffee-stained pink dress hadn’t fared quite so well.

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it,’ Penny had said, as the young assistant had tried to dab espresso from the fluted sleeves, her hands stroking the luxurious silk.

  The girl had gasped when she saw the signature red label inside the neckline.

  ‘Oh my God, it’s a Valentino. I’m such a klutz.’

  Knowing the assistant couldn’t possibly afford a replacement on her wage, Penny had glossed over the accident. She hadn’t accepted a cent from the apologetic young woman, and she wouldn’t be taking Tim up on his offer either. She mentally farewelled the unique glass figurines she’d brought home for safe-keeping.

  Penny walked away as quickly as her tired legs allowed. But before she could reach the verandah steps, her foot slipped out sideways on a patch of gravel. Her arms shot out in front of her to break her fall and she landed in a heap.

  Every muscle in her body squealed, having just recovered from dropping to the boardroom floor, but she scrambled to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster. Tim and Eddie both rushed over, soon joined by Pete and Sam. Diana thrust baby Leo into Pete’s arms and kneeled to examine Penny’s knee.

  ‘It’s bleeding, Pen. Might be gravel stuck in there too.’

  ‘Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding,’ repeated Eddie, the purple suitcase falling to the ground as he covered his mouth with one hand and pointed to her knee.

  Penny flapped her hands at the sudden audience.

  ‘It’s nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine,’ she said. Tiredness, pain and embarrassment ripped through her.

  ‘Nothing? Just like the little virus you said you had?’ Diana’s voice was high and Penny realised she wasn’t the only one exhausted by the long day of driving. Diana gestured to Tim.

  ‘Carry her upstairs, please. She’s not fit for anything but bed.’