Page 41 of The Dairy Farmer's Daughter

"Simple and fast," he said and kissed her cheek. "There are other things I'd rather spend time doing with you tonight."

She kissed him and ran her hands over his shoulders. "There are plenty of fun things we can do in the kitchen."

"In that case, maybe you should bring some cream with you."

She kissed him again and reluctantly let him go. She felt like skipping all the way back to her car. It had been hard enough to get any work done this morning and now, with those kinds of thoughts in her mind, she wondered how she would accomplish anything for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER 16

Freya knew from past years that people always arrived early, eager to order their breakfast rolls and buy their show bags before they sold out.

The Emerald Hills exhibit was on the main field, which the soccer club usually played on. They had erected a giant, white marquee to cover their displays of cheese, milk, and yogurt as well as photos and an informational movie playing on repeat. This year, they also had a fenced-in children's area with ride-on sheep and cow toys. Bales of hay were strategically placed so parents could get a coffee from the Maleny Coffee vendor next door, then sit and rest while their children played.

With a pause in the festivities, Freya walked outside the marquee to survey the rest of the exhibits. Strong smells of animals and fried food wafted through the crowds of lively people, all enjoying a sunshiny day. It was very different to the previous year when it had rained so hard the grounds had taken weeks to recover, and the soccer teams had had to postpone their home games.

She waved and greeted neighbours and friends as they passed and smiled, and she watched eager children begging their parents for rides, prizes, and fairy floss.

But it all faded as she saw Justin strolling toward her. His gait was relaxed and loose, so different to when she had first met him. He had been as jumpy as a kangaroo then. Now, it was as though a cloud had lifted and his true self was shining through.

She jumped him when he was close enough, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and breathing him in. She couldn't get enough of him. He held her tightly as though it hadn't been just twenty-four hours since they had last seen each other.

"I didn't know there were this many people living in Maleny." He released her and looked at the building crowds of people.

"This is quiet. Just wait until the lunchtime rush." She took his hand and walked him back inside the marquee. He looked around, studying all the little details she had added to the space to make it welcoming and fun for people. Like the beanbags and display of farm-themed children's books, or the games of skittles people could play using Emerald Hills-branded milk bottles.

“You’ve outdone yourself.”

His compliment made her feel warm and giddy.

“Thanks.” She took him to the display of old photographs she had put up, and pointed to a black and white one in the centre. "Recognise this house?"

He studied the picture of a house with cattle in front of it and a man hard at work, building a fence. "It's Boyd's farm."

She nodded. "Anthony Wheeler built it in 1912 for his family. That's your great-grandfather."

Justin's eyebrows rose, and he leaned in to study it further.

A family chose that moment to enter the tent, so Freya went to greet them and offer them free samples while Justin pondered his family heritage.

Greer arrived at midday to relieve them. It had been a busy morning, and Freya was grateful for Justin's help. He had handed out samples and played with kids without any complaints at all. Many of her friends had commented on how much they liked him, and how happy she seemed.

They walked hand in hand down the path, stopping to browse vendors and displays. Show noise filtered across the grounds—the varying calls of livestock, screams from the stomach-tumbling rides, and squeals and babbles of hyper-excited children.

"This is so impressive. I had no idea there were so many local businesses." Justin said.

Freya smiled. "Apart from rural ventures, we have makers of skincare, make-up, art, clothing, perfumes and oils, and plenty of musicians and authors. It's a very creative town; it’s not just tourism that keeps us going."

"What do you want to eat? The potato slinkies are amazing." She pointed to a food van with pictures of sliced potato curled around a long skewer. "They fry it and season it with chicken salt. It's so good." Her mouth watered at the memory.

"Let's start there. Then we find dagwood dogs.”

They munched their way through potato slinkies, dagwood dogs, and a punnet of chips before heading into the pavilion.

Entering the main building, they walked slowly past entries submitted for the arts and crafts competitions. Freya smiled as she looked at the children's pictures which were mostly of farm animals, machinery and landscapes.

The adult section followed and displayed photographs, paintings, sculptures, wood-work, quilts, and other artistic wares.

"Now for the food," Freya said, throwing Justin a cheeky glance. "This is always fun."

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