Page 48 of Secrets of Riverside

‘Tommy, come on, mate, you don’t still believe that BS your grandfather told you about me being involved with your parents’ deaths, do you?’

Silence was Jarrah’s only reply as Tommy stormed out of the tack shed.

Bitter disappointment, coupled with overwhelming hurt, swept through Jarrah. But as much as he wanted to have it out once and for all with his temperamental nephew, he zipped his mouth shut. Words said in heat were usually regretted. There’d be no benefit in arguing with him. Step by stomping step, Tommy wasn’t only burning his bridge here at Riverside Acres, he was essentially blowing it to smithereens. There was only so much of this attitude he could take, before sending Tommy on his merry way. The very thought sent his heart plummeting. Then there was the aching weight of Millie. He needed to go over to the roadhouse and try to smooth over any remaining uncomfortableness with her. They were friends. And she worked for him. He didn’t want her leaving here any sooner than she planned to because it felt awkward between them. Again.

His strides long and deliberate, it didn’t take him long to reach the back screen door. ‘Howdy doody, Millie.’ The screen slapped closed behind him as he stepped into the buzz of the kitchen.

She turned to him, flour smudges upon her cheeks. ‘Oh hey, Jarrah.’

He was going to get straight to the point. ‘I’m sorry about last night.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ She bit down on her bottom lip, and kept it clamped between her teeth as she unpacked the dishwasher.

Her silence destroyed any hope he’d had of them going back to some kind of normalcy. With all his heart he wanted to close the distance and give her a hug. But he was worried if he risked touching her, she would flicker like an image upon water, then disappear like a mirage, leaving him aching even more to know what could have been if he’d held his horses and allowed things to fall into place.

Say something, King, anything to fill this horrible silence …

‘Are we all good, Millie?’ It was fairly evident they weren’t, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Nodding then plonking the cutlery basket on the bench, she rested a hip against the side of the counter as she started to unpack everything, but still said nothing. Jarrah’s voice of reason roared. This was so hard. She felt so far away from him and he hated this gaping divide. It was taking every bit of willpower he could muster not to grab her and declare everything all over again, more passionately this time, in the hope she’d rise up on her tippy toes, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him like she never wanted to let him go. He could try and smooth things over all he wanted, so they could return to being friends, but he couldn’t deny that he was crazy about her. Actually, he was crazier than crazy. He was boots over head, inevitably, undoubtedly, falling harder for her as each day passed.

‘What is it, Jarrah? I can see you need to tell me something else.’ She threw a glance in his direction. ‘So just say it, please.’

He fidgeted a little, wishing he could come right out and speak his truth, but fear of a second rejection halted him. ‘I was just going to ask if your Jimny is running good now.’

She shook her head and her blonde ponytail swept over her shoulder. ‘I see what you’re doing and I’m not playing that game.’ She went back to the dishwasher and dumped the empty cutlery holder inside before shutting the door and turning all her attention to him. ‘I know I basically ran off last night, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just, I wasn’t ready for you to tell me something so intense, and I panicked.’

‘Me liking you doesn’t have to be so,’ he grimaced at the way she’d pronounced it, ‘intense.’

‘I’m not planning on sticking around here, Jarrah, so there’s no use in us trying to make something out of this, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Yes, and no.’

‘Which one is it, Jarrah?’ She huffed. ‘Yes or no?’

‘Honestly, it’s both.’

Scruff had joined them, and was looking from one to the other, his kind brown eyes clouded with worry and his forehead puckered.

Millie hunkered down to his height. ‘It’s okay, buddy, we’re all good here.’ There was extraordinary compassion in Scruff’s eyes as she gave his head a loving ruffle.

Witnessing just how much Scruff adored her, a pang of yearning struck Jarrah’s heart, strong enough to send his hand to his chest to try and somehow soothe it. With all her attention on Scruff, he closed his eyes, taking a moment to will the sensation away. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Millie’s soft sigh had him opening his eyes to meet hers.

‘I’m guessing there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Jarrah, and we’re not going to peel back the layers in the short amount of time I’m here.’ She placed a gentle hand on his arm. ‘Therefore, I don’t want to step over any more boundaries, because I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to hurt me.’ Even though she was softly smiling, there were tears in her eyes.

The pain of witnessing her despair almost snapped him in two. ‘I totally understand, Millie.’ He cleared his throat and nodded. ‘I’ll leave you to get back to it, then.’

Before she could bear witness to his own raw emotions, he strode out and into the sunshine, desperate to catch the breath she’d just stolen from him. Tomorrow, he’d return to his motto of never looking back, because he wasn’t going that way. Not ever. Not even for Tommy. And as for him and Millie, that dreamlike night was a thing of the past too. Their chance was gone. And there’d be no second chances. For any of them.

***

The following morning, Millie couldn’t get enough of the salty sea breeze as it tossed rolling waves onto the shore and tousled her loose hair. Perfect imprints of her bare feet and Scruff’s paws trailed behind her in the soft, wet sand as she made her way towards the jetty. Her plan was to sit on it for a little while, her legs dangling over the edge and her attention in the moment. Because after pining over Jarrah the last couple of days and lying awake half the night crying about what they could have had under different circumstances, she needed to centre herself, and the only way to do that was to get away from Riverside Acres, and Jarrah, for a couple of hours. And what better place than the beach to come and air out her heart on her day off?

Above, seagulls dipped and dived, calling to one another. She enjoyed the crunch of sand between her toes as she wandered the horseshoe-shaped coastline. Tilting her floppy straw hat to ward off the golden rays of sunlight, she gazed dreamily towards where the water met with the horizon. The breath of the ocean was helping to soothe her soul, along with putting things into perspective. One more week, that was what she was giving this venture, before she packed her bags, said goodbye to Jarrah and Scruff – no need for such sentiments for Tommy – and headed back to Sydney. Staying here any longer would only complicate things further. After almost three weeks there, she was none the wiser as to who had sent the letter, and why she’d been told to come there. Woefully, she was starting to believe it had been a waste of time, and whoever was behind the letter had known that, and the sick son of a bitch was enjoying controlling her life as if she were a puppet.

Scruff raced ahead of her, his nose poking into the holes that the little crabs had escaped into. She wished she could strip off, race to the water’s edge and plunge beneath the waves, but who knew what was lurking there. The crocodile warning signs, as well as the newspaper clippings Jarrah had pinned behind the bar, had worked on her – unlike some other people who dared to brave the water. Even Scruff was being constantly reminded to get away from the edge of the water. She’d been hesitant to bring him, but Jarrah had insisted, saying Scruffball would keep her safe from any weirdos. She found his need to protect her endearing. Not that she was going to allow the feeling to spread. He’d gotten beneath her armour once and she couldn’t let him do it again.

Reaching the jetty, she called Scruff back to her side. ‘Come on, buddy, let’s go and ponder the meaning of life for a little bit, hey.’

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