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I laughed. “Yes. And I reckon you’ll find some of your seventies favourites in Mum and Dad’s record collection.”
He raced over and even squealed when he found some T-Rex albums. We danced and laughed and drank more wine. Harry and I curled up on the floor rug in front of the roaring fire, full of marshmallows, while Tom entertained the doctors with tall tales of farm life.
“Did Mel freak you out earlier?” he said, nibbling my earlobe.
“You heard us talking?”
He nodded. “Sorry about that. I do talk a lot about you to my friends.”
“You do?” I arched my neck, allowing him better access.
He kissed down my neck to my collarbone. “I do.”
Such a simple exchange of words sounded like vows. I shook myself slightly. I was starting to sound like a heroine in a romance novel. Not that anything was wrong with that but this was real life and I had no idea what Harry wanted with a future together, or I. Mel’s assumption I’d join Harry at the hospital to work faintly rankled.
“Can you come back to the hotel tonight?”
His hand slid over my thigh as his tongue trailed up my neck. I held myself back from moaning,“Yes!”and gathered my thoughts. “I’m moving more sheep into the high country paddocks at dawn.”
The mention of dawn brought on a yawn.
Harry nipped my earlobe again, making me jump. “Is there any way I could convince you that the sheep could stay put and you come back with me to have sex all night long?”
I swatted him away, despite how much I wanted to leave and not worry about sheep, and lack of farm workers. Harry caught my wrist and pulled me close. “You can’t, can you?”
I sighed, shaking my head. “I want to. I really do. And I don’t think you could stay here. Mum’s room is just up from mine.”
“And I’m babysitting my drunk friends and need to get them back to the pub.”
On cue, his friends burst out laughing at something Tom had said.
Maybe I could talk to Tom and see if we could hold off moving the sheep. He’d been putting in late nights to catch up with university online as well as pre-dawn starts every day.
A car came up the driveway, its headlights sweeping across the windows at the front of the room.
Mum stood, crossing the room to look.
“Who’s here after ten o’clock at night?” She then gasped, but it wasn’t terror or sadness in her tone that made me stand. It was excitement and joy. “She’s back!”
Mum ran out of the room and flung open the front door, letting a gust of frosty air rush into the house.
“Mum!” A woman said with a slight English accent. “Oh, look at you.”
“Your sister?” Harry asked.
I nodded slowly. “I think my prodigal sister has returned early with her fiancé.”
Amanda breezed through the French doors into the parlour, stopping at the sight of strangers, and the transformed room. A tall, bearded man followed, neither smiling nor frowning, eyeing off our group curiously. Stuart was handsome, with rougher features than Harry, and even had scars on his face.
Tom strode over, pulling Amanda into an embrace. “Mandy Moo!”
“Oh, get away with you,” she laughed as Tom let her go.
“And you must be Stuart.” Tom shook his hand. “Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Tom.”
“It’s good to meet ye. I’m afraid I don’t recognise many of ye, but I believe ye are Stacey.”
“Hey, yes.” I closed the distance to Stuart and shook his hand. “Good to meet you at last.”
