27 HEATH

27 Heath

Heath had never looked forward to a meeting so much in his life.

This time, he didn’t even bother pretending that he was heading to the community room, but made straight for Amelia’s desk in the office to one side. ‘All set for your big announcement?’

The smile she gave him, one of shared mischief, friendship—and maybe a little more—was enough to warm him, despite the grip of winter howling beyond the door.

She stood, passing him a piece of paper. ‘I’m not big on making announcements. In any case, I thought it’d be better to keep this a secret. Just between you and me.’

Did she linger a little on that final sentence, as though it had import? Dad was right, he needed to play his hand, not hide behind it like he was afraid his expression would give him away. He liked Amelia. Didn’t only like her: he admired her. She had ability, depth, understanding and compassion. And the relief that had coursed through him when she’d signalled her intent to stay on in Settlers Bridge was unprecedented.

Yet was he even entitled to harbour hopes—never mind desires—for the future?

‘This is an indication of what Lloyd’s Auctions reckon the Cherokee will bring,’ Amelia said, her voice low enough that he had to lean closer. Had an excuse to lean closer. ‘If the bidding doesn’t reach that, I’ll make good on any shortfall. I figure you can present it to the committee as an anonymous donation. Since I’m new in town, I don’t want to make it look like I’m trying to buy my way in.’

‘That’s fair.’

‘Also, I really don’t want Dave to have it in for me,’ Amelia added with a grin.

‘How about—’ Heath paused as he formulated the idea. ‘How about if we say the donation was from Gavin, then? And once the park is up and running, we’ll set aside a couple of hundred for a commemorative plaque. I noticed the Apex club have a historical marker on the river front to commemorate the old paddle-wheeler dock.’ He straightened as he sensed someone enter the room behind him. ‘Something like that, maybe carved out of local granite, could look good.’

‘If you want something carved, you should get Justin Hein onto it.’

‘Hi, Indi,’ Amelia said, and Heath turned to reluctantly include the newcomer. ‘Back already?’

‘Don’t mind me eavesdropping,’ the young woman said. ‘I popped back in because I left the dog rego papers next to the library computer. How ridiculous is it that I have to come into town to use an unsecured public system to pay bills because the wi-fi is so bad out here? So much for NBN.’

Heath snorted. ‘Tell me about it. Or rather, don’t. My daughter’s got those complaints fully covered.’

‘Heath Brennan, Indigo Jaensch,’ Amelia introduced.

‘You’re Charlee’s dad, right?’

‘Got it in one.’ And, for the first time in two years, he wasn’t embarrassed to admit it.

‘Could you let her know that Paul Schenscher said the dogs are ready to go.’ She turned back to Amelia. ‘And I was butting in to say that Juzzy is your go-to if you want something carved. Maybe not so much out of stone, though.’

‘He’s the guy that has half the girls in Settlers swooning?’ Amelia said.

‘Half the girls being about three, though Sharna was the only one he was ever into. Built like the proverbial, but with the soul of a dreamer and the hands of an artist.’

‘We’ll keep him in mind, yeah?’ Amelia looked at Heath.

‘Okay, well—library.’ Indigo pointed to one of the other rooms. ‘Then I’ll be out of your hair.’

‘You’re not coming to the RAG meeting?’ Amelia asked.

‘Honestly, you could put a Disneyland-sized theme park in Settlers and I wouldn’t have time to notice it,’ Indigo called back. ‘Hence why there aren’t four girls in Settlers panting after Justin.’

‘Fair. Just pull the door shut when you’re done, please,’ Amelia said to her retreating back, then turned to Heath. ‘Indi and her dad share farm together.’

‘That’s not Dave Jaensch, is it?’

Amelia shook her head. ‘Nope. Though Dave is maybe her great-uncle, if I’ve got it right.’

‘Look at you, just like one of the locals,’ Heath teased. ‘You and Sean are a pair.’

‘Then you’d better up your game if you want to hang around with us.’ Amelia flicked off her computer, then strode to the door. Although the room was large enough to give him a wide berth, her hip brushed his hand, her faint perfume teasing him with its lingering evidence of her nearness. And he was quite certain there had been both offer and challenge in her words.

Heath was a little disappointed to discover Charlee had saved Amelia a seat, but without the distraction of her alongside, he could focus on the meeting. Although he was certain Tracey had caught him looking at Amelia more than once. And the way Charlee was grinning like a Cheshire cat, so had she. Still, it could be worse. At least Charlee was holding to her overly loud and overly public declaration that she would not stand in his way. The fact both intrigued and concerned him. Charlee missed her mum so much, it seemed inconceivable she’d be okay with Amelia moving into that space. Which, of course, she wasn’t. No one could ever replace Sophie, who’d given up her life to save her daughter. But where Sophie would be forever in his heart, Amelia was increasingly on his mind.

With Sean chairing, the meeting went as smoothly as could be hoped, considering Dave’s constant interjections. Although, after the first few arguments, even he had settled down once Ethan tabled what Heath could now admit was an impressively comprehensive cost analysis.

With the prevailing mood in the room excitedly in favour of the development of the skatepark once the donation was announced, Dave contented himself with pursuing a muttered interrogation of the ‘womenfolk’, keen to discover what they’d brought for afternoon tea. ‘Maybe you should get together and divide up who’s doing savoury and sweet,’ he proclaimed. ‘We’re very heavy on the cakes tonight.’ He patted his stomach, as though everyone should be concerned for his expanding waistline.

‘ Maybe we should look at bringing salad platters as the weather warms up,’ Christine observed. She turned back to Sean. ‘As we’re agreed on moving ahead with the skatepark thanks to this donation, what are the practicalities? I mean, exactly how do we proceed?’

‘I suggest we form sub-committees for the different facets of the project.’

Heath was surprised at the anticipatory silence; normally a flood of protests would accompany such a proclamation. These people were actually keen for the opportunity to be involved.

‘We’d have a different chairperson for each subcommittee?’ Christine said consideringly.

‘That would be wise.’

‘But one person could potentially chair several committees?’

As Heath’s gaze met Amelia’s across the table, she winked. He knew it was acknowledgement of their amusement at Christine’s transparent intentions, yet the implicit camaraderie, the inference that they shared something, made him feel … good . And that was something he hadn’t felt for a while. Far longer than two years.

‘What happens to the Regional Action Group if we all break up into sub-committees, though?’ Dave asked, his concerned gaze on the food.

Sean tapped a pen on the page in front of him. Heath had noticed his father fidgeting with the pen, doodling in the margins or turning it end over end in an unusually agitated fashion. Again a prickle of concern ran through him. Dad wasn’t acting the way he usually did; his hard won calm and aplomb was slightly lacking, although he rallied each time one of the women flirted with him, turning on his Irish charm in full force.

Sean set the pen aside and linked his fingers, as though physically controlling his distractedness. ‘The Regional Action Group still exists as an overarching body, though perhaps we meet a little less often.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea!’ Dave leaned forward to grab two biscuits at once. Maybe it wasn’t all about the food, Heath realised. The poor old bugger was probably a bit lonely.

‘We could make it a monthly meeting for the main group to catch up with what the sub-committees are doing. And maybe we appoint a finance officer to oversee all of the committees, manage the funding for different projects.’

Heath knew Sean aimed that suggestion at him and, to his surprise, he was keen to take on the role. That, along with managing the finances for Fur and Feathers Farm, would go some way to reawakening his passion for figures.

‘Then,’ Sean continued, ‘if another project pops up, we could go back to fortnightly meetings for the RAG.’

Christine tutted. ‘We’ve managed all these years without an action group. I can’t imagine we’ll have another pressing issue to deal with any time soon.’

‘Actually,’ Charlee said, surprising Heath from the mental calculations he’d already started on, ‘I have something I’d like to table.’ She looked to her grandfather, seeming to check she had the terminology correct.

Sean nodded and Charlee took a deep breath. She reached for Amelia’s hand on the table.

‘A few weeks back there was an unofficial discussion about the lack of childcare facilities here.’

Christine rolled her eyes. ‘Hardly a matter for the Regional Action Group.’

Undaunted, Charlee shook her head. ‘But it could be. I researched, and in New South Wales, a community banded together to purchase a building and set up their own childcare facility. Isn’t that something the Regional Action Group could look into? If we had our own facility, maybe we could ensure that only locals the kids already know would be employed. And we could mandate and facilitate training for the carers, so the parents could be confident that their child is being properly looked after.’

Amelia’s knuckles whitened in Charlee’s grasp and her eyes glistened.

The sight of her pain, and his pride in Charlee’s unusual compassion, had Heath damn close to tears himself.

‘Not exactly a venture that is aimed at the whole community,’ Christine said sourly.

‘That’s what I said about the skatepark, and look where that got me,’ Dave muttered, though his words didn’t hold true rancour. It seemed that the promise of sub-committees—and ongoing afternoon teas—had him pacified.

‘And if you’ve got Tara in mind for this childcare centre,’ Christine continued, ‘I would thank you not to poach my trained staff.’

Charlee squared up for the confrontation and Heath tensed. If his daughter spoke her mind, she would have them run out of town on a rail. Or, if the Charlee of old was back, with her quick intellect and passionate drive, she’d be the town mayor within a couple of years.

‘I—’ he began, with no real idea what he’d say to placate the situation before the disagreement spiralled out of control.

‘I think it’s a brilliant idea.’ The woman who cut across his words had been trailed by four boisterous children at the previous meeting. ‘And if you end up short-staffed, Christine,’ she continued, ‘I’d be keen to pick up a few hours.’

Christine’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘I lose my trained staff to look after your children, so you can come and work for me, Danielle? What kind of logic is that?’

‘It’s about mental health. I love those kids, but sometimes I need a break.’

Christine sniffed. ‘Your children are all at school. That should be more than enough of a break.’

‘Okay, then maybe I need a bit of a challenge. Change. Balance. If Tara or someone else is keen to look after our kids, why shouldn’t we share workloads?’

Heath admired Danielle’s candour, not to mention her resolve. Though her colour mounted with every word, she was sticking to her guns.

‘What a fabulous idea,’ Tracey agreed. ‘Raised by the village. I’m sure Taylor and Lucie would both be keen. They have such busy lives and are both so important to our little town, aren’t they? Well, we all are, really.’ She gazed around the crowded room. ‘Goodness me, I do wish Marian was here to see this. Well, I wish she was here, full stop, of course. But wishing won’t fill our plates.’ She frowned. ‘That’s not right, is it? Wishes will fill dishes with fishes; is that how it goes? Anyway, never mind. Just look at us all! We didn’t initially all agree with the skatepark, yet here we are, making it happen. Christine, you’d remember what Marian always said, wouldn’t you?’

‘Probably far more than I want to,’ Christine muttered, but she waited for Tracey to continue.

‘“It’s not the size of the community, but the size of the heart in that community”,’ Tracey quoted with a look of fond remembrance. ‘Don’t you think that the Regional Action Group can achieve anything we set our minds—and our hearts—to?’

‘You should take up public speaking, Tracey,’ Sean said as he helped clear the plates from the table twenty minutes later. ‘You hit just the right note of admiration and inspiration with that little number.’

‘For goodness’ sake, she didn’t say anything the rest of us haven’t thought.’ Christine sounded jealous of Sean’s approbation, and Heath hid a grin. Even on the rare occasions he wasn’t trying, Dad managed to get the women riled up.

‘Oh, it wasn’t really me talking, love,’ Tracey said. ‘I was channelling Marian. I was thinking about her during the meeting, and I remembered something she said.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Well, obviously, I remember a lot that she said—she was so very clever. But this one thing, I recall perfectly.’ Heath took the plate from her trembling hand as Tracey shut her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘“You have to work out whether you are an instigator or a spectator in your life. Are you content to just watch and see what will happen or are you constantly prodding and poking and manipulating?” Marian knew she was dying, and she wanted to make sure that I … carried on. And this—’ she threw a hand wide to encompass the RAG members filtering through the doorway, chatting and laughing, nibbling on the cakes and biscuits provided by others ‘—this is perfect. It’s exactly what she would have wanted me to do.’

‘You mention her quite a bit,’ Amelia said, combining leftovers onto one plate. ‘You must miss her?’

‘You can’t imagine,’ Tracey replied. ‘Oh!’ She put a hand on Heath’s wrist. ‘But I’m sure you can. Grief is such a hollow ache, isn’t it?’

Heath waited a beat, allowing Amelia the chance to share her loss if she chose. But she remained silent, her gaze on his in unspoken communion, acknowledging their shared sorrow. Humbled and privileged that Amelia trusted him with her secret, chose him to share her most precious memories, his heart constricted.

‘It is,’ he forced himself to answer. ‘But someone very wise pointed out to me that grief is where our memories lie. Obviously, you use your grief to connect with the memories of your friend.’

‘I guess that’s why it’s important to make those memories,’ Amelia said softly, taking a step closer to him as someone drew Tracey away.

He nodded. ‘You’re right. And, along those lines, and although I feel kind of guilty that I’m always taking you to the same place—’ he knew the words made it sound like he was referring to dates, rather than meetings, yet he didn’t care ‘—Dad’s making good on that raincheck for the Overland tomorrow night. Apparently, on Fridays the seafood is amazing, and I was wondering if you’d like to come … with me?’ He stressed the last two words, and this time, the invitation definitely sounded like a date. As it should.