Page 14 of Secrets of Riverside

‘I’m glad you like it.’ Jarrah’s smile was gentle as his gaze briefly met with hers.

‘I don’t just like it, Jarrah, I love it.’ And she meant it.

Slowing, he turned beneath a sign with Riverside Acres etched into the wood. Horse-dotted paddocks hugged either side of a driveway that curved its way towards a sprawling double-storey homestead with wide wraparound verandahs that she instantly craved to lounge upon, a good book in hand. The grand home appeared to stand proudly upon the flattened tip of the rise, and an air of warmth and openhearted hospitality beckoned for her to step through the front gates of the rustic timber fence line. The many windows, she presumed, would be spectacular viewing points over the lush expanse of tropical landscape, and she swore she could see the tiniest flicker of the ocean off in the far-flung distance. Budding rose bushes flanked the redbrick pathway that led up a few steps and towards the front door, and a huge water tank sat off to the left of the house. If not for all her emotional baggage, this place would be paradise to spend some time in, she was sure.

After pulling up beneath a towering gum tree that shaded one side of the homestead, Jarrah killed the engine. ‘Well, here we are.’

‘So it appears.’ Her heart now in her throat, Millie sat forwards and, looking past the homestead, she spotted the roadhouse and a neighbouring row of motel rooms a few hundred metres away.

Was this it? The very place that held the answers to her past? Someone had to be callously toying with her, surely? The tropical panorama and well-kept outbuildings appeared so beautifully wholesome there was no way a dark past lingered here. She suddenly felt like a complete and utter fool, coming all this way, on a whim, all because a letter had told her to do so. But then there was the photograph that some nasty online keyboard warrior wouldn’t have been able to provide. Whoever was behind this knew of her, and what had happened to her family that fateful night. It made her ask herself: if the person behind the words had told her to jump off a bridge, would she have done so? No. But if they’d told her the answers were at the bottom? Quite possibly. She was a desperate woman, with desperate questions. She had no idea how she was going to stay here indefinitely. No idea at all. But if her car breaking down was anything to go by, maybe the hands of fate were finally ushering her in the right direction. Maybe her destiny had been to arrive here, in this moment, all along.

‘Millie, are you okay?’

She jumped so high her head almost hit the roof. ‘Sorry, yes, I’m fine.’ Her hand now pressed against her racing heart, she nodded to affirm this fabrication.

‘Okay, let’s get you settled then, hey.’ Jarrah shoved his door open, then stepped out and hefted her bag from the back as Scruff leapt down behind him.

After drawing in a quick deep breath to try and bolster her courage, she stepped out and then followed closely behind him, her thongs flip-flopping and his boot heels clip-clopping along the pathway that led to the sweeping verandah adorned with trellises of rambling bougainvillea. Scruff quickly hightailed it to the front lawn and did his business as if he’d been busting.

Just as they reached the top of the steps, a thickset young bloke with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail appeared from around the far side of the house. Scruff raced to his side and he gave the dog’s head a quick ruffle. Spotting her, his eyebrows sternly pulled together as he pushed past Scruff and took long strides towards them.

The intimidating-looking bloke caught her gaze. ‘Who’s that?’ she murmured as she came to a stop at the front door. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but he looks a little peeved.’

Pausing to kick off his boots at the welcome mat, Jarrah leant into her space. ‘Oh, that’s my nephew, Tommy, he looks big and tough but don’t let that fool you. He might be a little on the moody side at times, being eighteen years old, but he can be a really good fella when he wants to be.’ He gave a nod in greeting to the bloke, now coming up the steps two at a time. ‘Hey there, Tommy.’

‘Hey there, yourself.’ The stench of cigarettes clung to Tommy’s clothes. ‘So, who’s this?’ His dark gaze narrowed while he looked her up and down, then folded his arms.

‘This is Millie.’ With a wave of his arm, Jarrah introduced her. ‘She was broken down just outside of town, so I offered to give her a lift here, and tow her car to Macca’s shop tomorrow, and he can hopefully fix it when he reopens on Tuesday morning.’

‘Oh, bugger, that’s a bit of bad luck, breaking down in the middle of Woop Woop.’ His inquisitive gaze remained wary as he held out a hand. ‘I’m Tommy, it’s nice to meet you … Tillie, was it?’

‘No, it’s Millie, but close.’ She could already sense that he didn’t like her. Not that she cared. She wasn’t here to make friends. ‘Nice to meet you too.’ She forced a smile as she lifted a hand to begrudgingly shake his.

With the hairs on the back of her neck bristling, she was taken aback by his grip. It was almost vice-like – as if he was trying to convey loud and clear that he was not someone she wanted to mess with. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he intimidated her, so she squeezed back just as forcibly. Not that she was assured he sensed that, given their size difference.

‘So, King, where’s she going to be staying?’ Tommy’s unyielding gaze met with Jarrah’s as he finally released her hand. ‘Because all the motel rooms are full.’

‘Yeah, I know. She can crash here, in one of the spare rooms.’ Jarrah half-shrugged at Tommy. ‘It’s only for a couple of nights, or until her car is fixed, either, or.’

‘Yeah, righto.’ Tommy’s response was clipped. ‘Interesting.’

Jarrah didn’t bite back or mention her possibly taking the cook’s job, instead turning his focus to tugging the screen door open, revealing a pretty leadlight and timber door.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Tommy said as he turned and took heavy steps away. ‘I’m heading into town, to Jasmine’s place.’

‘Yeah, righto.’ Hands on his hips, Jarrah watched Tommy vanish around the corner.

Millie could see, plain as day, that Jarrah’s nephew was carrying a massive chip on his shoulder. And it wasn’t anything to do with him being a moody eighteen-year-old, either. There was something about Tommy that was off, that threw her off kilter. She was going to be keeping a close eye on him, seeing as she’d be taking the cook’s job, come morning, and staying here until she got what she came for. Which hopefully was going to be sooner rather than later.

All things going well …

‘Come on in, Millie.’ As he slipped off his boots, Jarrah’s husky voice lured her undivided attention from Tommy, and in the opposite direction. ‘And please, make yourself at home.’

Turning her regard back to the man who seemed to be the polar opposite of his nephew, her eyes went to the way his broad shoulders pulled his shirt taut as he stepped through the doorway. And when he turned to face her, as she flicked off her thongs and moved towards him, she was met with an equally broad chest. In this brief moment of arresting closeness, it made her want to lean all of herself against him, as if acutely aware that if she allowed herself to, Jarrah King would protect her from all the bad in this world. And as she’d learnt, there was a lot of it to be shielded from.

What in the heck is going on here?

She blinked, forcibly moving her gaze back to his soulful sky-blue eyes. They were striking against his tanned skin. For goodness sake, wasn’t there anything about this man she didn’t find attractive?

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