Page 69 of Wings Above the Mallee

Amelia covered her face with her hand as he screwed up the soiled napkin. ‘Dusty! I swear she does it to stop me going out.’

‘It’s a regular occurrence?’

‘Bird poop in my hair? Regrettably, yes. Going out? Not so much.’ She held his gaze, daring him to read into the statement. ‘And yet, this is the third time I’ve seen you here, second I’ve dined with you. Makes me seem a bit of a liar.’

Was she pointing out they were more than passing acquaintances? ‘Or it makes it obvious how small Settlers Bridge is. Even if you were eating at home, I’d likely hear about what you’d bought, how you cooked it, and how much you ate.’

‘Ah, yes, small towns and their secrets. Or lack of. I swear there was more privacy living on a station. But perhaps that’s because we were all aware of the need to guard our tongues. That reminds me, though, I did hear something interesting today.’

Heath lifted an eyebrow, aware of the tug of scar tissue. If Amelia didn’t want to get down to business, that was fine. He was happy to let her chatter flow over him. No, that wasn’t true. Amelia’s conversation was generally far from inane, and he was interested in her thoughts.

‘Two of the specials, then, lovies?’ Lynn called across the crowded dining room. ‘Chicken or beef?’

‘You’re okay with schnitzel?’ he asked Amelia.

‘I don’t dare to be otherwise. Beef, thanks, Lynn,’ she called back.

‘Chips and salad,’ a nearby table chorused, pre-empting Lynn’s next question before erupting into whoops of laughter.

Amelia grinned and held up both arms, signalling they’d scored.

‘Chicken,’ Heath added, rather more self-consciously. Amelia had no problem fitting into the town, much like his dad. ‘So, what is it that you’ve heard?’

Amelia leaned forward. ‘You know that Christine bought the cafe, Ploughs and Pies? Well, the rumour is that she plans to reopen it as an American-style diner.’

‘You have to be joking.’ Not in his wildest imagination would that scenario have crossed his radar. ‘I’m not sure what’s more got me more off balance: the thought of Americana in Settlers Bridge, or of Christine running a fast-food joint.’

‘Right?’ Amelia chuckled. ‘I admit, I’m low-key scared of that woman. There’s no way I’ll join the CWA.’

Was that a throwaway line or was Amelia committing to staying in Settlers Bridge longer term, despite telling Charlee they’d be doing the travelling farm together only initially?

‘Anyway—’ Amelia lifted her glass ‘—here I am, bagging Christine out for gossiping but hardly letting you get a word in edgewise.’

‘It’s your dime.’

She looked lost for a moment, then caught on. ‘Oh, yeah, I was the one who roped you into my latest drama, right? Okay.’ She blew out a long breath. ‘Gavin.’ The word came out a little unsteadily. ‘You probably don’t remember me rambling about it, but I used to fly Gavin’s plane back at the Keith field.’

‘A Cherokee.’

Her eyes met his, though she looked away quickly, perhaps hoping he wouldn’t notice the sheen of tears. ‘That’s it. Well, Hannah rang yesterday. She said that Gavin wants me to spread his ashes from the plane.’ She pulled a face. ‘The problem is, I actually need two people to do that.’

Heath started to reflexively offer, then realised Amelia hadn’t finished.

‘She also said that Gavin wanted to gift me the plane.’

‘That’s generous of him. Well, I assume it is. Can’t say I have a clue on the value of aircraft.’ He didn’t dislike thefact that apparently he’d somehow become Amelia’s go-to person for discussions.

‘It’s worth about seventy-five grand,’ she said, surprising him with her forthright response.

‘Will you keep it?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve got a soft spot for my old Jabby. So that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘Do you think it would be really horrible of me to sell the Cherokee?’

He’d rather she sold both of the planes. ‘I can’t see why—’ He started to trot out the usual trite phrases of denial, then pulled himself up. Amelia deserved more than that. ‘Because Gavin left you the plane thinking that you’d treasure it, you mean?’

She nodded. ‘I used to joke about him being fancy, while the rest of us managed with plywood and rubber bands. But he knew that I love the Jabby, really.’

‘Selling this Cherokee would potentially cash you up so you could ditch the office job, though? Then you could do something you’re more passionate about?’ Hopefully something less dangerous.

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