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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MACK WATCHED THE bright red helicopter lift off from the helipad. That was the last of the guests leaving the station; Aaron was flying them to Cairns in the Bell 505. For a second, Mack envied Aaron and his freedom to flit in and out on a whim. He’d heard the guy was learning the art of cattle mustering from the air—a dangerous job—and Mack decided that he and Aaron were more similar than he’d first thought. Both adrenaline junkies, even if they got their fixes in completely different ways.
The other guests had drifted away from the station in small groups over the past week. It was going to be quiet here without them. Until a different kind of guest descended, that was. Friends and family were due to start arriving in a few days, just in time for the wedding.
Dean and Naomi were going to be amongst them, and while it’d been less than a month since Mack left the US, he was looking forward to seeing a friendly face and catching up with news from home.
It’d been almost a week since Nash had passed on the report that they were opening an investigation into Mack’s crash, but there’d been no more news, at least none that Nash was willing to share. Mack was frustrated by their lack of developments, but Steve had told him it didn’t mean things weren’t progressing, it just meant these things took time. Nash had confirmed that Mutt remained in Cairns and had issued no more threats toward Bindi. In fact, he’d just taken up a job as a cleaner at the local gym, which made Nash think he was going to be no more trouble. But Mack still chafed for answers. And that man in the parking lot hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. He’d warned him to quit the rodeo circuit, or he’d suffer the consequences. What did that mean? Because he’d given the man an emphatic no, did it mean the man had escalated his threats that same night? It was a bit of a stretch, but not impossible. He was hoping to have a chat with Dean when he arrived, to see if he might be able to help him dig up some dirt on Clarissa.
Mack knuckled the small of his back and leaned back to stare at the sky. He was helping Steve put the finishing touches to the large dance floor, specially built, tucked into the grassy hill beside the billabong. He had to admit; the setting was magnificent. Pretty much the perfect place to hold an outdoor wedding. Steve had gone up to the machinery shed to fetch a few more screws, and Mack was taking the time to admire the scenery. Jesus, it was hot. He was still getting used to this heat. A mass of clouds sat low on the horizon, but Steve had assured him it wouldn’t rain today. Or tomorrow. Or hopefully for the next week, right up until the wedding. But the clouds were adding a humidity that hadn’t been noticeable before, and the sweat ran freely down Mack’s back. He’d swapped his black dress hat for a more suitable one; a brown, work-stained Stetson he’d brought from Montana when he’d started his job at Stargazer.
A brightly colored bird swooped across the surface of the water, and Mack watched, fascinated by its skill, as the bird lowered its beak and came up with a small fish. He wished he knew what the bird was called. He should ask Bindi… Mack shook his head. Why did his thoughts always automatically go to Bindi?
“Hey, Mack?” Steve’s voice drifted down the embankment.
Mack swiped the sweat from his brow and shaded his eyes against the midday glare. “Yeah, boss.”
Steve strode down the grassy hill toward him. “We’ve run out of screws. And I need another can of paint for the arbor.” He pointed to the almost-finished bower he and Dale had created for the ceremony. “Would you mind doing an emergency run to Clancy’s Hardware in town? I’ve ordered the stuff over the phone, all you have to do is collect them. You can take my truck, if you like. The keys are on the hook in the kitchen.”
“No problem,” Mack said breezily. A break from the hard manual labor in this unrelenting heat would be welcome. This would be his third time in Dimbulah; the town was small enough that he just about knew his way around now.
“Thanks, mate.” Steve gave a relieved sigh. “I swear, if we get all this finished in time, it’ll be a bloody miracle. And even if we do, I’m sure Daniella will come up with a million other half-baked projects that need doing in record time.”
Mack nodded, feeling his boss’s pain. Weddings were always stressful and pushed most people’s tolerance to the limit. Steve had the patience of a saint, if you asked him. If it’d been Mack that Daniella had been yelling at—no, yelling wasn’t the right word, perhaps insisting in no uncertain terms described Daniella’s demeanor this morning—he would’ve turned on his heel and stalked away, flatly refusing to add the stupid custom-designed, boho, rustic, wooden book stand thingy for guests’ signatures she said was absolutely vital, to his ever-growing list of things that needed to be done.
Really? Was a custom-designed book stand really going to make the day perfect? He very much doubted it.
Mack removed his hat and ran a sleeve across his forehead, slicking back his hair and knocking the dust from his hat against his thigh.
“I’ll go right now,” he added. There was still an hour before lunch, he could make the run and be back just in time.
“Great. Oh, and, Mack, ask Skylar if she wants anything while you’re in town. I think she was saying she’d almost run out of sugar and flour, and her delivery won’t be here until tomorrow.”
Skylar had a big order coming in by truck, piled high with all the supplies for the upcoming wedding. But there were always things even the best prepared chef forgot.
“Sure thing, boss.” Mack whistled as he headed up the hill toward the lodge. A nice drive in an air-conditioned car with the music cranked right up was just what the doctor ordered.
“Hey, Skylar,” he said, tipping the brim of his hat as he strode into the kitchen.
She smiled.
Then he noticed Bindi and Julie huddled together over a recipe book. “Ladies,” he said, a touch more circumspectly. “Steve’s asked me to grab a few things from the hardware store in town. Do you need me to pick you up anything while I’m there?” He directed his question to Skylar as he reached for the keys to Steve’s Land Cruiser.
“Oh, let me think.” Skylar’s forehead wrinkled with a frown, but then her gaze landed on the two women at the end of the countertop and one eyebrow went up in speculation.
“Actually, I was just going to ask Bindi to head out and grab me a few things.”
Bindi looked up, surprised. “You were?”
“Mm-hmm,” Skylar assented. “She can go with you? Can’t she?”
“What?” Bindi’s surprised look turned to one of slight outrage.
At the same time, Mack asked, “Can’t you just tell me what you want?” Damn, he’d been counting on a solo trip to town.
“No,” Skylar said a little too quickly. “Bindi knows what I need. You’ll get it wrong.”
“Oh.” He shot Bindi a glance. She looked as peeved as he felt.
