Page 66 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘Because, you know …’ Charlee shrugged, not meeting her eye. ‘I screwed up. Bad. Like, even more bad than usual.’

‘Yep. You screwed up. And now it’s bygones. Of course we’re still working on the project. My only issue is …’ She let the words hang.

Charlee leaned on the back of a kitchen chair. ‘What?’

‘If it’s only you and me for lunch, by the time we eat this lot, I’ll never get the Jabby off the ground again.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t be all bad,’ Charlee said.

Amelia paused. She hadn’t realised Charlee was concerned about her flying. She chose her words carefully. ‘It would, because once my work at James’s office finishes, I might look at contract flying to keep the coffers topped up.’ And because she couldn’t imagine life without the sky. ‘We’ve got to fund all these animals that you think we need.’

‘We can find another way to raise the money,’ Charlee said, a deep crease between her brows. Then she grinned. ‘But if too much lunch is a problem, I can always invite Dad over?’

Amelia ignored the teasing lilt to the teen’s voice, her mind still on Charlee’s flash of surprising solemnity. What had prompted that comment? ‘I think Heath’s probably had enough of my company, after close confines for the last few hours.’

‘Aw, you sound so sad.’ Charlee giggled.

The girl was just messing with her—her fledgling interest in Heath couldn’t be that obvious. ‘Not at all. Which reminds me, you said your dad is down for this line-dancing gig? He doesn’t seem to know anything about Tuesday night.’

‘Mmm. Yeah. Oops.’ Charlee looked anything but penitent. ‘About that. I kind of mentioned the fundraiser part, but forgot to tell him about the practice sessions.’

‘Maybe he already knows the moves?’ Something about the thought of the brooding man in jeans and cowboy boots was not unattractive.

Charlee spooned peas onto two warmed plates. ‘Or maybe he just doesn’t know the fundraiser has anything to do with dancing.’

‘Charlee!’ The girl looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and Amelia was torn between being appalled and amused. ‘You can’t let him turn up with no idea what’sgoing on. Remember Sean said the woman who runs it has a dress code? I’m pretty sure that expectation will extend to knowing the basic steps.’

‘Hey, I’m doing this for you.’ Charlee poured gravy over both plates of food. ‘We need someone in our team who is worse—impossible as that seems—at the moves than you and Daideó. That way, Mandy won’t focus on you guys. See? Pressure off.’

Amelia sat hurriedly, her knees weak with relief. Charlee was oblivious to her secret.

‘Anyway, if I tell Dad exactly what he’s agreed to, he might not come. Do you want to risk that?’ Charlee said, cutting a sideways gaze at her. Maybe not so oblivious, then.

‘No skin off my nose, but it’d be a shame to miss out on money for the—’ she waved a hand around, trying to recall what the fundraiser was for ‘—tennis club?’ Female company had been in short supply on the property, and she wasn’t accustomed to being teased. Surprisingly, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and she was almost tempted to laughingly admit to her crush.

Except it involved this girl’s grief-stricken father, so she could never go there.

25

Heath

Heath cleared his throat awkwardly, as though he needed to make an announcement. Of course, given that he’d be relying on his father for a lift into Settlers Bridge, an explanation was warranted. ‘Amelia wants to catch up. Got something she wants to discuss.’

Sean thumped down the twenty-kilo bag of chook food he had over one shoulder. ‘Has she now?’ he said with far too much interest.

Not that Heath hadn’t been intrigued since he got the text an hour earlier. And relieved. Although he’d taken to helping Sean out around the farm rather than sit at his desk for hours, the week had still run long, Thursday seemed too far away, and as Charlee had taken to texting him her latest updates for the pros and cons list he’d suggested she create—and her growing shopping list of animals for the travelling farm—he was out of excuses for calling past Amelia’s place. ‘Yep.’

‘What’s that about, you reckon?’

So many things had run through his head. Amelia might have come up with an idea to help further repair his relationship with Charlee. She could have another issue with those sheep—who, he’d decided, were far from the worst animals on the planet. Maybe she wanted to discuss how they’d house this travelling barnyard she and Charlee were scheming about. Or … was there a shadow of a possibility that she could want to see him because—?

No.Just because Amelia was on his mind too much, didn’t mean his interest was in any way reciprocated. He deliberately crushed the unwanted and unwarranted surge of anticipation, and focused on untwisting the wire that held the gate to the chook yard closed.

‘Guess there’s one way to find out. You got half an hour to run me in?’

‘Sure. Got to put out some calcium and magnesium licks for the sheep and close the chickens in so the foxes don’t get them, then we’re good to go.’

‘Thought the stock would be getting enough nutrition from this lot.’ Heath gestured at the paddock beyond the farmyard, framed by yellow wattles along the fence line. Although, like all the properties in the Settlers Bridge district, the farm was adversely affected by their position in the rain shadow of the Mount Lofty ranges, the ankle-height grass was a dozen different shades of green. The peppertrees dotted across the bottom of the yard were alive with tiny, finch-like birds, the ascending crystal waterfall of their single-note calls multiplied to a torrent by the sheer number communicating. The bell tones contrasted with the caw of the wattlebirds searching for nectar among the orange-and-red poker-like spears of the four-metre high kniphofia hedge behind the house.

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