Page 55 of Road to Rosalee

Heading towards the kitchen to begin her dinner duties, she looked down at her loyal companion, thankful for Harold’s constant company. Reaching the back door, the old cattle dog collapsed in his usual spot and rested his chin against the hard-baked earth, sighing, as if resigned to spending the rest of the day here.

‘It’s a dog’s life, hey boy.’ Melody crouched down and gave him a scruff behind his greying ears. ‘I reckon you would have earned your keep, in your younger years, so I’d lay around all day too, if I were you.’

Harold replied by giving her a quick lick to her hand.

Stepping into the coolness of the common kitchen, she flicked the radio on, washed her hands, and got to work. Shepherd’s pie was on the menu, along with a garden salad and garlic bread, followed up with baked cheesecake for dessert. Strapping on her apron, she allowed herself to get lost in slicing, stirring, tasting and manning the oven while humming and singing to one familiar tune after the other. Before she knew it, the men were wandering in, freshly showered, weary and famished.

With the flywire door thumping closed behind him, Hasselhoof pulled up a chair at the farthest end of the twelve-seater table and buried his nose in a magazine. Tumbles and Showbags did their usual routine of stirring each other up while setting the table. Slim helped himself to a couple of homemade chocolate chip biscuits from the tin while he got himself a cup of tea. And Zai, much to her pleasure, focused all his attention on her, and the food she’d lovingly prepared.

‘It smells absolutely bloody amazing in here, as usual,’ Slim muttered between bites.

‘Damn straight it does.’ Zai nodded in agreement. Eyes wide, he checked out her pièce de résistance – the white and dark chocolate swirled orange cheesecake. ‘Holy moly, I can’t wait to tuck into this beauty.’

‘Thanks, guys. Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks, hey.’ Grabbing a serving spoon, she started dishing up generous servings of the shepherd’s pie. ‘Make yourself useful, would you, Wellstone, and put the salad and garlic bread on the table for me.’ She flashed him a sassy smile.

‘I can make myself more useful by taste-testing this first, if you like.’ Grabbing a fork, he hovered it above, teasing her as if he were about to dig right on in. ‘Mind if I help myself?’

‘You know the rules of my kitchen, mister. No sneaky sampling.’

‘Oh, come on, just this once.’ He dropped the fork a little lower, so it was just touching the top. ‘Please?’

Melody snatched the fork from him. ‘Behave, Zai Wellstone, before I ban you from my kitchen forever.’

Hands shooting up, he grinned. ‘That’d be like a life sentence.’ Collecting the salad and garlic bread, he paused beside her. ‘Actually no, I take that back. It would be two life sentences without any chance of parole.’

She clouted him with her tea towel. ‘Oh, stop it.’

‘I’m being deadly serious.’ He leant in a little closer, dropping his voice. ‘Your cooking is the only thing I look forward to every day. Oh, and your ability to have an adult conversation.’ He tipped his head a little to the side, gesturing to where Showbags had Tumbles in a headlock. ‘Putting up with this immature pair all day long can send a man batty.’

‘Oi, Wellstone, we can hear you, you know,’ Showbags chuckled, ruffling Tumbles’s already chaotic head of hair, then finally let his mate go. ‘Anyone would think you’re trying to impress the cook for brownie points,’ he added brazenly, his stride as cocky and proud as a rooster. ‘I’m onto you.’ He waggled a finger in Zai’s face. ‘Mister Smooth.’

‘Shh, don’t give away all my secrets, buddy.’ Laughing, he slapped his mate’s finger away then unloaded the plates of food into the middle of the table.

‘Yes, always the charmer, aren’t you?’ Melody said in passing as she plonked two plates down and went back for the others. She loved how Zai made her laugh more genuinely than she had in what felt like forever – it always helped to lighten the load of hurt in her heart.

Zai scooted in and helped her with the last of the dishes. ‘Only when there’s a pretty lady worth charming.’

Warm fuzzies filled her soul, but she wasn’t about to give too much credit to them. ‘Is that so, Casanova?’

There was a fleeting shadow of hurt in Zai’s eyes. ‘I’m more like Romeo than Casanova, thank you very much.’ It was said jokingly, but the intonation of defence was evident. ‘And one day, I hope to find my Juliet.’

Tumbled looked at his mate as if Zai had lost his marbles. ‘Pfft, whatever Wellstone.’

Showbags dropped to his knees, his hand on his heart. ‘Oh Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo.’ He’d tried to alter his voice to resemble a woman’s but had hilariously failed.

Zai chuckled and shook his head. ‘Bugger off, you pair of shitheads.’

After eight days straight in the saddle, and with the hot weather wearing all of them thin, dinner was quick and the clean-up was even quicker. Zai was the last man standing, refusing to go until he’d walked Melody back to the homestead, as he always did. Reaching up on her tippy toes, she tucked the bottles of sauces back into the pantry, sighing wearily when she closed the door. After a nice hot shower, she was looking forward to hitting the sack.

‘I think that’s everything.’ Zai straightened the chairs into place at the table. ‘You good to go now, Sweet Melody?’

Her heart pitter-pattering with his chosen nickname for her, she took one last look around and, happy the place was spick-and-span, nodded. ‘Yup, sure am.’

Just as they went to step outside, with Harold hot on their heels, a resounding boom of thunder had both of them almost jumping out of their skins. The usually tough-as-nails Harold ducked, cowering at Zai’s feet. His terrified eyes darted from Zai to Melody, and his tail all but disappeared between his legs. Melody gave him a reassuring pat on the head. Then the sound of the generator ceased and the power cut out, leaving them in a world so dark, she could barely see an inch in front of her until her eyes adjusted.

A pocket torch flicked to life, illuminating their path home. ‘Talk about timing, hey.’

‘Where’d you pluck that from?’ she asked.