Page 16 of Where the Wattles Bloom

Rowena was grateful she hadn’t just taken a mouthful of wine—Brooke would probably be wearing it! ‘Me and Lachy?’

‘Oh, come on, out there, alone with him, saving a life together as the sun set romantically over the barren outback landscape. Were there sparks? There had to be sparks.’ Brooke smiled wickedly as she crammed the chip into her mouth.

Rowena rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not here to … bag me a cowboy.’

‘Hmm. Well, now, isn’t that interesting,’ Brooke mused as she picked up another chip and shoved it in her mouth, chewing then swallowing. ‘That’s not what I asked. And, for the record, he’s actually a sheep farmer, not a cowboy.’

Cowboy. Sheep farmer. Argonaut. Whatever …

‘C’mon, don’t you think he’s sexy in that laid-back, howdy ma’am farmer kind of way?’

‘He’s good looking, sure.’ It was impossible not to concede that point. She had a pulse, after all. ‘But there were no sparks. We were a little busy trying to save a man’s life.’

‘All I’m saying is that maybe a little physical distraction wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing while you’re here? Give you something to look forward to other than work and barefoot bowls every Sunday. You know …’ She waggled her eyebrows. ‘Put a little pep in your step.’

‘I’m going to be gone in six months.’ And she was determined to walk away without a backwards glance.

‘He’s a big boy, he can use his words if he’s not up for providing some temporary distraction. But if he is …’

‘I’m fine with just getting through each day without a panic attack.’ This wasn’t a great time in her recovery to go complicating her life.

‘Oh, honey.’ Brooke reached across the table and squeezed her arm. ‘It’s okay to want more than mere survival.’

‘I know.’ She shook off Brooke’s arm. ‘But I don’t want to upset the apple cart by adding in anything new too soon.’

Brooke picked up her wine. ‘Yeah, I get that. Just promise me you’ll try to enjoy yourself while you’re here. It might be a small town but there’s always plenty on.’

‘Like barefoot bowls?’

‘Yes.’ Brooke laughed at Rowena’s dubious face. ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. And footy every Saturday, which is like a religion around here. You missed this year’s district Koori carnival, which is huge. The hospital has a netball team that plays in the local mixed comp on Saturdays. There’s also trivia here every Thursday night and karaoke at the Crown on Friday nights. We have an annual race day, which is second only to the show on the social calendar—oh, you’ll be here for the show! It lands here at the beginning of next month. It might not be that fancy-schmancy Royal Easter Show you guys have, but it’s the place to be.’

‘Okay,’ Rowena conceded. ‘That sounds like fun.’

Brooke nodded. ‘It is. And then there are the events that run out of the town hall. A lot of NAIDOC Week activities are held there. This year the aunties have organised for a Wiradjuri poet to come to the hall to run workshops with the kids as part of the celebrations. Then there’s Tai Chi and Zumba classes. They even have—’ she raised her glass in Rowena’s direction and stuck out her pinkie, feigning poshness—‘monthly showings of foreign movies.’

Rowena’s lips twitched as she raised her glass. ‘Ooh la la. Fancy.’

‘Bloody oath, mate,’ Brooke agreed with a smile and they tapped their glasses together.

Six

Lachlan was still smiling as he entered The Stockman. Reggie’s expression when he’d announced he was going to the pub for trivia had been priceless. True, he was often too knackered after a gruelling day on the farm to socialise—something she regularly nagged him about—but it wasn’t unheard of for him to go into town either.

He just preferred the peace and quiet of Blairgowrie.

Reggie hadn’t said anything, but that raised eyebrow spoke volumes. He’d known exactly what the old biddy was thinking and it had everything to do with Rowena Murray. The fact he was wearing new jeans and his shiniest belt buckle, and had spent an inordinate amount of time with a scrubbing brush getting engine grease off his hands, had fuelled her speculation.

The truth was, he had no idea if she’d be at trivia or not. But a man could hope. Because, despite her making it perfectly clear she was only in town for six months, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

And it had been a long time since he’d been so preoccupied by a woman.

Maybe she’d be up for a little fooling around? Something short and temporary? He was forty years old and twice divorced—he could handle something short and sweet.

The fact she was the first person he saw when he walked into the pub felt like a sign and he smiled even bigger. Sitting at a table with several other people he recognised from the hospital, Rowena was laughing at what someone was saying. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a ribbed, long-sleeved black t-shirt with a v-neck and a row of buttons down the cleavage.

Brooke spotted him and waved him over. Lachlan took that as a further sign and made haste.

‘Hey,’ he said as he approached.