31 AMELIA

31 Amelia

‘I’m going to have to move back to the farm,’ Charlee said as she slumped in the bathroom doorway.

‘I wasn’t aware that you don’t live there,’ Amelia teased. ‘But why so?’

‘Because you’re a bathroom hog. Seriously, how long can it take to get ready for a country dance?’

‘You have youth, beauty and limited time spent outdoors on your side,’ Amelia pointed out as she dabbed on concealer and wished for the hundredth time that she’d been more consistent about using sunscreen. ‘I’m trying to work with what I have here.’

‘Pretty sure Dad likes you even with snot running down your face.’

‘Well, the man has a history of tolerance, doesn’t he?’ She hadn’t seen Heath since she’d clambered from the car, and Amelia was still unsure whether his final words intimated that she should look elsewhere for support.

‘Checkmate.’ Charlee grinned. ‘But I reckon, even with that disgusting old hat you’re insisting on wearing, we’ve both scrubbed up all right. And wait till you see Daideó and Dad. Or, more importantly, wait until Dad sees you.’ At least Charlee had made up her mind about their relationship.

‘I’m glad the weather’s picked up. I was worried I’d freeze in this dress.’

‘And just like that, she tries to unobtrusively turn the conversation. Okay, move over, my bathroom time now. I’m going to show Ethan what he’s been missing by staying in the city.’

Amelia winced. Evidently she wasn’t the only one harbouring an unrequited attraction. Maybe she’d jumped the gun, reassuring Heath there was nothing between his daughter and the skateboarder.

The music from the old bank building could be heard a full block away, and Amelia frowned as they walked the last few hundred metres. ‘Sounds like the dance has already started.’

‘We’d better not be late. Can you imagine Mandy getting stuck into us in front of everyone?’

‘Ugh. Yep. Maybe we should turn tail?’ Fear of the domineering dance leader wasn’t Amelia’s real reason for her sudden reluctance, though. Leaning against the huge sandstone blocks of the building were Heath, Sean and Ethan. And, while she was prepared to give Heath some space, some time, life was so finite, so precarious, she needed to know that eventually he’d be able to fully engage. There was a chance Heath wasn’t interested in—or able to—step up for that.

‘It’s okay,’ Charlee huffed as they rushed. ‘A couple of local guys are playing a few sets before the dance. The MacKenzies. Tara reckons they’re kind of cool.’

Charlee sounded unusually offhand, and Amelia’s ears pricked. ‘More information, please.’

‘Nothing to tell. Hamish is the local mechanic. Lachlan’s got some girlfriend. And he’s old, anyway.’

‘So, Hamish?’

‘Like I said, nothing to tell. Just kinda hot. And I’m sure my car’s due for a service.’

Amelia made a mental note to check Hamish out, make sure he wouldn’t be a bad influence on Charlee.

Heath had his bad leg planted on the stonework behind him, but as they approached, he straightened and tipped up his black Akubra. From behind his back he produced a small bouquet. In perfect synchronicity, Ethan and Sean did the same.

‘None of us were sure of the protocol for a line dance,’ Sean said. ‘But we figured we’d better come prepared.’

The flowers don’t prove anything, Amelia told herself sternly.

The music was much louder in the vast hall. At the far end of the room, a couple of guys perched on barstools, guitars across their laps. At least a dozen young women were grouped around them and Amelia could see the reason for Charlee’s interest—although, with her arms wound around Ethan as she laughed up at him, the teen now seemed to have forgotten that brief rush. Amelia studied the couple for a moment and realised that, as usual, it was Charlee doing the touching, while Ethan remained more reserved. It was ironic that his detachment made her feel relieved, yet was precisely the issue between her and Heath.

The tiled area echoed with the enthusiasm of a surprising number of people, many the familiar faces of locals, but also plenty Amelia didn’t recognise. Sean was still holding his flowers, and Amelia looked at him quizzically.

He winked. ‘I’ve got a plan,’ he assured her.

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Heath said. He put one hand in the small of Amelia’s back and lifted his chin to where rows of old church pews lined the wall. ‘Shall we go claim a seat over there? From what Dad’s said, I’m not sure we’ll get to sit much, but we might want somewhere to retreat to.’

‘Will you be able to cope with the dancing? I’m not sure how long this thing goes, but it’s pretty energetic.’

Heath’s face darkened. ‘The accident messed up my leg, but there’s nothing wrong with my stamina.’

Did he infer what she thought? In which case, his flirtation was both infuriating and, if she was honest, a little exhilarating.

‘I figured Dusty would enjoy turning the flowers into confetti.’

Her heart twisted. Heath was determined to minimise the gift, set the parameters of what could be nothing more than a friendship. ‘Very likely.’ Her eyes narrowed on Sean’s back as he strode across the room. He approached a contingent of women and she wondered who had caught his fancy.

Twittering like overexcited birds, the group broke apart, opening their circle to enfold Sean.

‘Bugger,’ Amelia muttered. ‘I wanted to see what he’s up to.’

‘You and me both,’ Heath said. ‘Let’s go pretend to socialise, so we can spy.’

‘Oh, you did come, Heath,’ Tracey exclaimed, joining them as they trailed Sean. ‘We weren’t sure whether you’d be a no-show.’

‘Here, front and centre,’ Heath said with a tip of his hat. ‘Though that’s not where I plan to stand. I’ll be right behind you, Tracey, so I can copy your moves.’

‘I’ll show you the moves,’ a woman purred.

Amelia stiffened as she recognised Roni’s mother.

‘I think Amelia has Heath well in hand, thank you, Denise.’ Tracey staked a claim on Amelia’s behalf as Lynn and Sam both moved toward Heath, cutting Denise from the group as efficiently as any predators protecting their pack.

‘Lynnie,’ Sean boomed. He held out the flowers. ‘I have your corsage.’

A communal gasp was followed by a hush as the women glanced from Sean to Lynn.

Amelia frowned. Everyone knew Lynn and Ant from the pub were an item. Why would Sean interfere?

Lynn reached toward the flowers, but then dropped her hands uncertainly. ‘They’re lovely. But I think … I can’t …’ she stammered.

Sean lifted his gaze toward the entry door. ‘And here, right on cue, is your date. Apparently Ant suffers from hay fever, so he needed a wingman.’

‘Anthony!’ Lynn whirled around.

His baldness hidden beneath an Akubra that clearly existed for use, not looks, Ant hovered in the doorway. ‘Adam’s filling in for me at the pub. Thought it was about time I came over to see what all the fuss is about this dancing stuff you’re into,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’ll have to lose those flowers before I come near, though.’

‘Well, I’ll be.’ Lynn clapped a hand to her pink cheek. ‘Hay fever, you say?’

His eyes twinkling, Sean tossed the bunch of flowers onto one of the pews lining the walls.

‘So, where’s your bow and arrows, Dad?’ Heath asked.

Sean cocked an eyebrow.

‘Cupid.’

‘Ah, yes, well.’ Sean grinned. ‘A little jealousy is good for any relationship. Besides, we can’t put all our energy into fixing the town—we need to look after the people, too. Right?’

As the MacKenzie brothers reached the end of the song, a series of sharp cracks of clapped hands—Mandy’s way of getting their attention—cut the air.

‘Places, please.’

‘Okay, now I’m actually nervous,’ Heath muttered as they joined the centre of a quickly forming line.

Amelia realised that she felt pretty in the clothes Charlee had chosen for her—tooled boots and a floral dress that swirled around her mid thighs, paired with her old, grease-stained stockman’s hat. As they laughingly navigated the steps of the first few dances, Heath’s gaze rarely strayed. She frowned. Was he right, should their relationship remain on this safe plateau? Could a close friendship, where they shared everything but love, be enough? It would mean she could stay here, in Settlers Bridge, where she’d found a home. And such a friendship would still be more emotional involvement than she’d allowed for years. Surely she should embrace what life offered, instead of wishing for more, for something to fill the emptiness in her heart.

Boots stomped with enough force to tremble the chandeliers, hands clapped and dancers collided, chuckled and applauded. Although the pervasive energy elevated her mood, the tempo also stirred something within her. She was wrong: settling for a platonic relationship with Heath would be a placebo, treating her desire like an addiction to assuaged. She deserved more. She demanded more.

Mandy announced a short break, and they made their way to the trestle tables set against one wall.

Amelia blew out a long breath. ‘I can’t believe they actually have punch.’

‘Bit of a throwback, isn’t it?’ Heath said. ‘Good old CWA catering. Can’t say I’m loving this line dancing, though.’

‘No?’

He passed her a tiny glass cup of punch, strawberry slices floating on top. ‘It’s very short on contact.’

She spluttered as a passionfruit seed lodged in her throat, but Heath didn’t seem to notice.

‘I’ve been a bit quiet the last few days because I’ve been working on something. Have you heard of NILS loan schemes?’

For the briefest second, she’d hoped that Heath was going to say he’d been thinking about how he could make their relationship work. She set down the punch glass. ‘Not that I can recall.’

‘In its most basic form, NILS is a no-interest loan scheme. Your donation of the plane to raise money for the skatepark got me thinking. Don’t get me wrong, with my finance background, altruism goes completely against the grain.’

His self-deprecatory grin might be contagious, if she’d had the faintest idea what he was talking about. But this was friendship, right? Bouncing ideas off one another with no emotional entanglement. This was all that Heath wanted.

He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. She almost jerked away. The contact was unfair, too tantalising. ‘But I’d be willing to shoulder some initial loss,’ he continued. ‘And make a low interest loan, to see money invested into our community. Maybe through the RAG sub-committees, to get their plans up and running. Dad’s got it in his head that I could manage the overarching finances for the group. And honestly, he’s onto something. It’s time I pulled my head out of the sand. Or my butt out of a dark room. But this particular project I need to run by you first.’

‘Finance really isn’t my thing.’ She pointed to the ceiling. ‘You know, open sky, freedom.’

‘Mmm. Freedom.’ Heath frowned, as though the concept was alien. ‘I guess I’m more the boring sit-at-the-desk-and-spreadsheets kind of guy.’

‘I don’t know about boring. But great way to say we’re vastly different without saying we’re different.’ She hoped she didn’t sound bitter.

‘That doesn’t have to be a problem, though, does it?’ Heath’s grip on her hand tightened. ‘I mean, two sides to a coin, opposites attract, all that stuff.’

‘That’s actually a law of physics, isn’t it?’

A deep furrow appeared between Heath’s brows. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of the soul is attracted to that which it secretly loves.’

He had to stop throwing that word around if he wanted to pull off this friendship thing. She gestured toward the dance floor. Hopefully the music would start up and save her from this torment.

Heath held her back. ‘Look, I’ll just run this by you so you can think on it. No rush. Without going into the details, Lynn is willing to let one of her houses at a budget price. If I front up the rent in the form of a no-interest loan, plus extra funds for conversions and necessary safety features, I think that, once we form a sub-committee, we can get this project off the ground pretty quickly. But I’m not investing if you’re not onboard. I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you, Amelia.’

She tapped her ear, signifying it was hard to hear him in the hall. Even harder to understand him. ‘What project?’

‘Sorry, I’ve managed to start in the middle of this explanation. Maybe just call me Tracey.’ He captured her free hand, held both against his chest. ‘Taylor’s clearly under some serious stress. So I’m thinking that if I make a loan to fund a childcare centre, get it off the ground and keep it running until it becomes income positive, it might alleviate some of her pressure until they can get an additional doctor in the practice. Plus it would be a way of repaying this community for giving me the space to find my feet again.’ He adjusted his grip, blew out a tense breath. ‘I know you’re passionate about childcare facilities meeting safety standards, but I’d like this facility to do better than that. To honour Noah’s memory. But if you don’t want me—us—to go down this track, we won’t.’

Her throat tightened unbearably. She’d wanted Heath to be thinking about her, but never in her wildest dreams would she have dared hope that he might think of her son. The music blared, the refrain of ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ so ironically fitting she could cry. Instead, she grasped Heath’s hand and pulled him through the crowd, out of the building and onto the street. Whirling to face him, she tucked her hair behind her ear as a river breeze drifted it across her face.

‘You might hate me for what I’m going to say, Heath, but I have to get it out of my head.’

She sucked in an uneven breath. Tried to focus on the smell of jasmine wafting from a nearby walkway, but almost choked on her mounting anxiety. With just a few words, she could screw up the rest of her life: but this was far too important to stay silent.

‘I’ve learned that life can be short and hard and sad,’ she said slowly. ‘And so have you. But that’s not an excuse to live on the fringes. I thought I could give you the time you need, but I was wrong. I’ve realised that I want someone who will fight to be with me. Fight their own demons and help me tackle mine as well. I appreciate your gesture with the childcare centre more than you can ever realise, but I can’t be your friend, Heath. The way I see it, we’re either all in or we’re over.’

Heath looked set to respond but she held up a hand to stop him. She had to be sure he understood exactly the kind of person she was.

‘And I realise it’s not politely correct, or socially acceptable, or any other damn thing, but if you choose “in”, then you have to know that I’m not prepared to play second fiddle to your dead wife forever.’ She folded her arms across her waist, gripping her elbows as she waited for his outrage. Anger she could tolerate; indifference was another matter altogether.

Heath took a long moment to absorb her ultimatum, but she refused to quail under his gaze, though it was hard as flint. He gave a short, dismissive nod, and she turned to leave.

But Heath seized her elbow, spinning her back to face him. He took both of her hands, carefully uncrossing her arms. Removing her defences.

‘I’m all in.’ His words were quiet, but completely steady. ‘I’ll match your stunning incorrectness and social unacceptability, and bring to the table my tendency to be self-centred and insufferably arrogant. And I’ll straight up admit that I’m terrified, challenged, nervous and excited by the thought of what lies before us. By the very fact that there is something more to this life, because I never expected that to be the case.’ His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on her. ‘The thought of this, of us, terrifies me, Amelia. Knowing I could lose you, that each time you fly, I won’t be able to breathe until you land. But I have no right to clip your wings. The thing is, I thought I could protect myself against that loss by pushing you away; but now I realise that doing so would only mean I’ve already lost you.’ His hand swept up, caressing the side of her neck, then cradling the back of her head, as his words whispered across her skin. ‘Amelia, I’m old enough to know how I feel, and I know that I’m more in love with you than I would have ever believed possible. More in love than I have ever been in my life.’

The circle of his arms around her almost completed Amelia, as though perhaps Heath could mend her cracks and fractures, fill the missing pieces of her puzzle.

‘For your love, I can sacrifice my need for security,’ he said. ‘You realise that we’re both the most incredibly complicated works in progress, though?’

‘I believe that’s called life.’ No one could comprehend this man’s guilt, grief and fear as she did. She pulled away a little so she could look him in the eye, leaving no room for misinterpretation or misunderstanding. ‘And there’s no one I would rather be silent alongside, no one I would rather laugh with and definitely no one I would rather cry with. You are the only person who can hold my hand and understand that we need to explore both our past and our future.’

Heath pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘In that case, I want to do life with you. Because the only constant, the only guarantee that I can ever give you, is my love.’

‘And I will give you the same.’ Amelia linked her hands around the back of his neck, gazing up into Heath’s handsome, tormented face. ‘The way I see it, every story has an end. But as it seems we’ve met in the middle of ours, I suggest we write the remaining chapters together.’