Page 11 of Road to Rosalee

Serving them generous slices alongside mounds of whipped cream and a freshly brewed cup of coffee each, Sarah dragged a seat round the other side of the bench and sat opposite Melody. She pushed the sugar bowl towards her. ‘Help yourself, love.’

Melody plonked a teaspoon of raw sugar into her cup and stirred. ‘Thank you for this, Sarah. It’s very kind of you.’

‘No worries at all.’ She offered Melody a kind smile. ‘I always enjoy another woman’s company, it gives me a break from all the boys’ chatter about tractors and bulls.’

They ate in virtual silence, their little moans and groans all that was needed to convey just how moreishly delicious the sweet tart was. ‘This truly is the best lemon meringue I’ve ever had, and that speaks volumes considering I’m a chef.’

‘Oh my gosh, you are?’ Sarah looked impressed.

‘Yes, I am,’ she said, proudly.

‘Wow, that’s fabulous.’ Sarah sat up straighter, her eyes wide. ‘I have to say, I’m so envious. That would’ve been my dream vocation if I hadn’t chosen to be a cattleman’s wife which, take my word for it, I’m certainly not complaining about.’

‘I can tell you like cooking.’ Melody eyed the impressive kitchen, with its Caesarstone benchtops, gourmet appliances and sweeping views out the bay-style windows. ‘And I have to say, I’m extremely jealous of your kitchen.’

‘Yes, my biggest stipulation when we built the place was to have the kitchen I’d been dreaming of, and I have to admit, Matt was happy to give me free creative expression in here. It’s turned out even better than I envisioned.’ Sarah sighed, smiling as she looked around as if seeing the space for the very first time. ‘I love it so much in here. It’s where I spend the majority of my time.’

‘I would too, if I were you.’ Melody nodded. ‘The kitchen is the heart of any house.’

‘It sure is.’ Sarah drew in a slow breath, allowing a few moments to pass, before turning her full attention back to Melody. ‘So, when did your mum pass, love?’

‘A little over two months ago.’ Melody quickly looked down at her coffee, now cradled in her hands, the warmth of it bringing her comfort. ‘But it feels like it was only last week.’

‘It’s really tough losing someone you love, especially before their time.’ Sarah reached across the table and placed a hand on Melody’s arm. ‘Time will help ease the heartache, sweetheart, I promise you that much.’ As if sensing Melody’s impending tears, or possibly some of her own, she grabbed a box of tissues, plucked one out, and then pushed it over to Melody. ‘Please feel like you can be yourself, and if you need to cry, do.’ She dabbed the corners of her eyes. ‘Trust me, I’m speaking from experience. It’s best to let it out when it comes, otherwise you’ll go and bottle everything up and that’s no good for the soul.’

Unable to hold back her emotions any longer with Sarah’s heartfelt words, Melody plucked a tissue from the box and wiped at the tears that continued to fall. ‘Thank you for being so nice to me,’ she said between sniffles.

‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’

Because I’m your husband’s long-lost daughter …

‘Because you don’t know me from a bar of soap,’ Melody said quickly before she said what was really weighing on her mind. She wanted to break the news to Matthew first, just in case it went sour, or in case he wanted to keep it from Sarah – whatever the case, it was his right to hear what she had to say first.

Sarah regarded her for a few lengthy moments, her gaze kindly sympathetic. ‘No, you’re right, I don’t know you, but I have very good intuition, and I can tell you’ve got a heart of gold, Melody Harrison.’

Melody didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all – she didn’t feel the need to fill the silences with Sarah. It was strangely comfortable between them. She wondered if that energy would shift once Sarah learnt the truth of who she was.

The crunch of tyres on gravel pulled their attention out the window. ‘Here he is, right on time for afternoon tea,’ Sarah chuckled, and rolled her eyes. ‘They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and Matt is no exception.’ She stood and wandered over the kettle. ‘I tell you, that man of mine eats like a horse.’

Beau jumped up from where he’d been colouring. ‘Yay, Daddy’s home.’ He ran to the flyscreen door and pressed his face up against it.

Like a horse let out of the gates at the Melbourne Cup, Melody’s heart took off in an eager gallop as she watched the tall good-looking man she’d stared at on her laptop over the past couple of months alight from the LandCruiser. His dark hair was more a gunmetal grey in the sunshine, and the sound of his deep laughter carried on the breeze that shifted the sheer curtains. He tugged an Akubra on with one hand and held a bunch of wildflowers in the other. His extremely masculine passenger unravelled from the other side and joined Matt on the trek over to the house. The men’s cheery voices travelled into the kitchen. Melody felt as if she was trembling from head to toe while her heartbeat became frantic, as if fists were pounding against her chest from the inside.

You can do this.

The unknown man was younger and taller, with broad shoulders that looked as if they could carry the weight of the world. His dark short-cropped hair intensified the ruthless cut of his jaw and cheekbones. And in his cowboy get-up, with a dimple-encrusted smile that would buckle most women’s knees … far out, he was drop-dead gorgeous. She darted her gaze from one to the other, both making her heart race, though for entirely different reasons. She suddenly felt extremely nauseated. This was too much. The room started to spin. The floor wavered. Melody hoped and prayed she could at least get through the moment she’d envisioned countless times without making a complete fool of herself.

Matt stepped inside first, scooping Beau up and leaving the younger guy to pull the door closed behind them. ‘Hey buddy, have you been good for Mum?’ He kissed Beau’s cheek twice.

‘Yuppidy,’ Beau said, nodding his head. ‘Mummy has her friend visiting,’ he added, pointing to Melody.

‘Oh, hey.’ Matthew’s smile widened, deepening the dimple on his chin as his piercing brown eyes met with Melody’s before travelling to Sarah. ‘These are for you, my lovely wifey.’ He held the flowers out.

‘Aw, thank you, darling.’ Taking them, Sarah leant in to give him a kiss. Smiling like a woman head-over-heels in love, she turned back to Melody. ‘Matt, this is Melody, she said you know her mother.’

‘Oh, hi Melody.’ Balancing Beau under one arm, he held out his hand and shooks hers, all the while considering her curiously. ‘So, who’s your mum?’

‘Lucy,’ she stammered. ‘Harrison,’ she added, her voice quivering.