Page 25 of Secrets of Riverside

‘Okay, let me have a look.’ Prying her fingers from his arm, he didn’t let her go as he began to turn her around.

A breathless second passed her by. ‘What is it?’

‘You can relax, it’s nothing that’s going to harm you.’ Jarrah’s chuckle had her glowing a bright shade of red. ‘Hey there, little buddy.’ He chuckled some more. ‘It’s just a green tree frog, Millie, we get lots of them in the rainforest.’

With her humiliation and ick factor at their peak, she felt him peel the defenceless amphibian from her shoulder. Stepping away, and out of bounding reach, she willed herself to take a few deep breaths as she turned around and stared at the bright green frog staring back at her with its terrified eyes, its new perch now on the back of Jarrah’s raised hand.

‘See, he’s harmless.’ Jarrah regarded her with a boyish smile, as if he was in his element.

Grimacing, she nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose he is kind of cute.’

‘Kind of cute?’ Jarrah looked to the frog, then back to her. ‘Come on, Millie, he’s adorable.’ He tipped his head to the side as if waiting for her wholehearted agreement.

Grinning at his antics, she nodded. ‘Okay, yes, he’s adorable.’

And so are you, Mister King.

Gosh, Millie, stop it! Now!

Her grin broadened while she still kept her eye on the stationary creature. The frog looked at her as if considering if it was going to pounce and land on her again. She took a cautionary step back.

Regarding his new little mate, Jarrah held his hand up to eye level. ‘I better go and run him under some water, because the oils from my skin can burn his.’ He glanced at her over the frog. ‘And we don’t want that.’

‘No, we most certainly do not.’ Her grin became more of an admiring smile – this big manly man with his broad shoulders and tribal tattoos could be so sweetly endearing. ‘I didn’t know our oils could hurt him, but mind you, I don’t go around touching frogs.’

His dimples deepened. ‘Ha, no, after your reaction, I didn’t think you did.’ Offering her cheeky raised brows above eyes sparkling with playfulness, he turned and headed towards the hose at the end of the building. ‘Catch you a bit later, Millie.’

‘Okey dokely.’

Okey dokely? Huh? Price, what the heck is wrong with you?

What language was she suddenly speaking? And how could such a cute little harmless frog have frightened her so much? Gee whizz, her mum would roll over in her grave if she knew what had become of her country-loving, free-spirited daughter. A daughter she’d raised to be a wildflower, just like her, and she wanted with all her citified heart to be like her brave, strong-willed, hippy-hearted mum. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sighed sadly as she headed back towards the roadhouse. The little girl who’d run through the countryside with twigs and leaves in her knotty hair, mud on her clothes and not a care in her heart, had died in the fire that night. Leaving an empty shell of herself. But Millie wanted her back to stay for the rest of her days. This citified version of her was half-arsed and half-hearted – she wanted the real Amelia Price back. The one who lived for each moment, believed in the good, and trusted that God had her future in his capable hands. Something told her that just by being here at Riverside Acres she was going to be able to grab hold of that buried part of her, drag her to the surface, and never let her go.

***

‘For the love of god, you need to learn to show some respect, Tommy, to me, and to the staff.’ Pacing behind his desk, Jarrah paused and shot a glance at his nephew, now seated in the chair opposite, his fists in his lap and jaw clenched as if wired shut. ‘Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?’

Tommy arched a sly brow. ‘You want me to show you respect?’ Meeting Jarrah’s stare, he grunted. ‘How about you do the same for me?’

‘I do show you respect, Tommy, all the time.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Tommy’s eyes burned with hatred.

Baffled, confused, hurt, Jarrah wished he could throw the towel into the ring, but he wasn’t about to give up on the one person in this world who deserved his love. ‘I seriously don’t understand why you feel this way.’

Tommy shrugged indifferently. ‘Yeah, well, I’m not going to waste my breath trying to explain it.’

Jarrah gritted his teeth against a momentary lapse of better judgement – now wasn’t the time to lose it. ‘Tommy.’ He made sure his next words were measured, steady. ‘We’re not going to get anywhere unless you’re up-front and honest with me, about everything that’s going on in that head of yours.’

Remaining silent, Tommy shrugged indifferently.

Yanking his office chair out, Jarrah sat then clasped his hands atop the desk, his gaze now pinned to his nephew. ‘Refresh my memory, will you, Tommy. Whereabouts did you go fishing?’

Tommy turned his attention out the window. ‘Up the Cape, why?’

Jarrah watched the rise and fall of Tommy’s chest quicken. ‘Where, exactly, up the Cape were you?’

‘What’s the deal with all the questions?’ Tommy brought his darting gaze back to Jarrah’s, but only momentarily.

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