Page 19 of The Mistletoe Wish

Everyone staggered to a stop. Skye laughingly snapped off a shot of the rickshaw on her mobile then showed it to the other young girls. Sara wasn’t aware that Darim had circled back until he spoke.

“That rickshaw is quite something.”

“I rather think it was Tessa’s idea. Since she married Dodge, she’s come up with quite a few innovative suggestions to revitalise the town.”

Ms. Lette poked a hand from the side of the rickshaw and gave a languid movement as if she was a queen bestowing a knighthood.

Darim laughed and touched Sara’s arm. “I want you to meet my sister. Fatima, this is Sara Pyeon, the woman who has joint ownership of the property with me.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Smiling, Sara extended her hand, hoping it wasn’t too damp and sticky.

Fatima Maloof was a forty-something woman with strong features in a round good-humoured face, and with her younger brother’s rich-brown eyes. A candy-pink and white hijab covered her hair. She wore white three-quarter pants and a thin long-sleeve pink shirt. Like her brother, she also had a wicker basket strapped to the rear of her bicycle. “I’m so glad to meet you, Sara. Congratulations on the bequest. It’s a wonderful opportunity for both of you. I can’t tell you how excited I am that my little brother will be living so close to us.” She beckoned a fifty-odd man with thick silver hair and a shiny, perspiring face to step forward. “Do you know Ernest Callen?”

Sara nodded to the older man. “We’ve met. I was on the same search team as you when Ms. Lette went missing last July.”

“I remember.” A flush deepened the reddish hue of his skin and his gaze dropped as if he was ashamed to meet her eyes.

She wasn’t surprised by his reaction although his involvement in Ms. Lette’s kidnapping several months ago had been tenuous to say the least. Because on one level hewasculpable for the elderly lady and a teenage boy’s traumatic experiences. It was through his actions a would-be killer had come to town. But who was she to judge? She knew all about bad choices. And in the end, he had risked his own life to save others.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Callen.”

His head rose and a shy smile twisted his lips. “Ernest, please.”

“If everyone’s had some water and a rest, let’s move on!” called Tessa as she handed her youngest, Tilly, a bottle of juice.

“Put some effort into it, boy. I want a swim and a taste of my birthday cake before the sun sets!” Ms. Lette produced a riding crop and brought it down with a loud snap against the side of the rickshaw.

The younger girls squealed, while everyone else laughed and mounted their bikes.

Dodge saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

A rustle came from inside Sara’s basket, no doubt roused by all the noise. She slid a calming hand inside as she set off again. This time, Darim rode alongside her.

“I can make a good guess as to what you have in that basket.” He grinned. Apart from a couple of beads of sweat adorning his upper lip, he showed no signs of puffing or struggle to keep the wheels turning. Especially given that he and Skye had ridden all the way from the shack which was a lot further than the distance travelled for those who lived in town. He certainly was fit.

As for Sara, her scalp was itchy beneath her helmet and her clothes sticking uncomfortably to her flesh. At least her level of fitness was on a par with his; it was only the heat she struggled with. Hoping he didn’t spot her lingering glance on his muscled forearms, she merely shushed him with a quick finger to her mouth. Her heart stuttered as his gaze followed and he swallowed. It seemed he wasn’t as composed as he always made out to be. Although it was hard to be sure he felt the same dangerous attraction since sunglasses shielded his eyes.

A girl could hope.

It wasn’t long before the narrow track winding through the scrub and bush emerged onto the banks of Bindarra Creek. Rolling her shoulders, Sara hopped off her bike and kicked down the stand. Everyone else was milling about, grabbing their gear off their bikes or, in the case of the kids, heading straight for the water’s edge.

“What a perfect spot.” Darim approached her, a picnic basket in his hands.

Sara glanced around, absorbing the almost yen tranquility of the creek’s flow, the gentle sigh of shifting willow tree branches and the dappled sunlight tiptoeing over the boulders lining the banks. A kookaburra burst forth with his familiar warble. Swallows weaved in and out around the trees. A willy wagtail strutted his stuff on a nearby branch while butterflies and dragonflies flittered over the water’s surface. Ducks paddled in the shallows. With a few disgruntled quacks they moved further downstream. There was nothing to remind anyone of the tense events that had been played out several months ago when Edwina’s and a young boy’s lives had been at stake.

In the clearing on the other side of the creek, a long trestle table had been set up together with several camp chairs. Newlyweds Natalie and Troy Davidson waved heartily from where they stood in the shade next to the quads they must have ridden to get to the gully. They had been charged with setting up for the celebration. By the looks of the two eskies bulging with cold drinks and the number of cakes and plates crammed onto the table, they had done an excellent job. Colourful paper flowers had been strung together with crystal beads and hung from the tree spreading its branches above the table.

Sara waited beside her bike with Darim, until Tessa had popped Tilly out of the bike trailer and strolled over.

“All good?”

“I think so.” After unsnapping the straps securing the basket to her handlebars, Sara offered her the package.

Kaylee rushed forward, eyes shining. “Mum! Mum! Can I do it, please?”

“No. Me!” squealed Tilly tugging on her mother’s pant leg.

Eyebrows raised, Tessa sent Dodge a questioning look.

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