Simmering Season Page 42

  A wolf whistle jolted Maggie back to the here and now. She whipped around to see Dan leaning a shoulder against the doorframe of her bedroom, feet crossed at the ankles, one hand shoved in the side pocket of his navy trousers. The pale blue shirt was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off tanned farmer’s arms. He looked incredibly sexy in his Akubra.

  ‘I don’t believe you should be here, Mr Ireland.’

  ‘I came to make sure you’re ready for that walk down the aisle, Ms Lindeman.’ As hunky as he was right now, when he’d walked into the pub the other day in Wranglers, RM Williams boots and a leather hat, it had taken her breath away. She was seeing the Dan from twenty years ago and loving it.

  ‘Do I look ready?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘You look just like the young Lindeman girl I once knew.’

  ‘And you, Dan Ireland, look like a gorgeous version of a boy I once knew.’ Maggie laughed a kind of giddy, girlie giggle.

  ‘What are you saying? Wasn’t I gorgeous back then?’

  Maggie smiled. ‘There were plenty of words being used to describe you, as I recall. Gorgeous was not one of them. What have you done with Charlie?’

  ‘He’s downstairs grumbling about wearing a flower in his button hole. Says he looks like a—’

  Dan hesitated.

  ‘A poof,’ Maggie finished, trying to smile, but failing miserably and turning her face away instead. ‘Yes, I can hear him now.’

  Would thoughtless turns of phrase like that ever not hurt a mother’s heart? How many times had she laughed along when Charlie Ireland had told one of his poofter jokes in the bar? Nowadays Maggie wanted to cry—after tearing shreds off the person. But she’d never do anything of the sort. She was learning to do what her son would have to do for the rest of his life: tolerate the bigots and those who didn’t mean any harm and didn’t know any better.

  ‘Hey, buck up. This’ll put a smile on that dial.’ Dan pushed off the doorframe and sidled up next to Maggie, inspecting the two of them in the mirror. ‘Isn’t there a saying about blue and green should never be seen?’

  ‘I always thought we went well together. A long time ago I even thought our names—Lindeman and Ireland—were a good omen, like Lindeman Island, the resort.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘I had it all worked out. The resort would even pay us to have our honeymoon there.’

  Dan turned Maggie to face him, looked her hard in the eyes and said, ‘I’m learning to love that laugh of yours.’

  ‘For a while there I wasn’t sure I’d ever laugh again.’

  ‘It’s been one hell of a season.’

  ‘At least everything’s out now.’

  ‘Goes to prove there’s no keeping a lid on some secrets,’ he agreed. ‘Let things simmer for long enough and they’re bound to boil over, especially when you bring all those people into the one small town and turn up the heat.’

  ‘We survived though.’

  ‘Yep. We sure did. I’m glad things look like working out for Phillip, too. Glad Fiona was smart enough to see what’s good for her. Phillip Blair must be the nicest bloke on the planet.’

  ‘Besides you, of course,’ Maggie winked as she grabbed hold of Dan’s arm for support, lifting one foot at a time to adjust the new slingbacks.

  ‘Everyone’s waiting downstairs. I managed a glimpse of Fiona and Noah’s handiwork before they hustled me away. The ‘Just Married’ job they’ve done is the best I’ve seen, not that I’ve seen that many. Do you think they’ve got enough balloons?’

  ‘Ah, the balloons! Yes. Fiona, the event manager, has been whipping Noah and his mate into line. She’s got more surprises in store.’

  ‘Noah’s taken to having a half-sister like a horse to hay, I’d say,’ Dan said.

  Maggie nodded. ‘Speaking of horses and hay … How’s my girl?’

  ‘Dad’s a bit bemused. He can’t figure out why you’d pay Clive Peters anything for that old nag, but she’s settled nicely into our old stables and I think he’s secretly enjoying the company. Dare I ask about Fiona’s surprises?’

  ‘Did you know they’ve written a song together for the wedding? They also announced the other day that they’re determined to bring the pub into the twenty-first century.’ She saw the confusion in Dan’s face. ‘My latest news. I’ve accepted Fiona’s offer—with conditions.’

  ‘You mean her chipping in some of the inheritance from her mother into the pub?’

  ‘Yes and no. I don’t want her money, but she seems to want some involvement so she’s going to lease the bistro from me. Apparently the all-new, soon-to-be-refurbished and renamed Edge Restaurant will be blogging, tweeting and Facebooking.’

  ‘Edge Restaurant. I like it.’

  ‘There’s a business plan and all. She’s qualified and quite good at them, so she tells me.’ Maggie winked.

  ‘That’s quite a turnaround.’

  ‘She’s talked to Phillip and he was able to fill in some gaps about Amber’s stay at the Dandelion House. I don’t know what it is about that place that changes people for the better, but I like it. I don’t expect her to put roots down any time soon, but she’s committed to getting the bistro set up properly and that’s a start. She’ll be here all year while Noah finishes school. Works for me. I have lots more photo ideas I want to pursue. First things first, though.’ With a deep breath, Maggie flattened her palms against her belly, sucked in her stomach. ‘I’m ready now. You should get to the church first.’

  ‘Yep. Just had to check on you.’

  ‘I’m fine. Happier still at seeing Ethne over the moon.’

  ‘I’m happy to be on the right side of her, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Until you’re late to the church. Get going.’

  ‘You’re right. She’ll have my hide.’

  ‘I just wish I didn’t feel so queasy in the stomach.’

  ‘I’ll be right there, at the front of the church, so you can focus on me.’

  ‘And what if I trip down the aisle in these snazzy new shoes? I’ve never given a bride away before.’ Maggie picked up her camera, slinging the strap over one shoulder. ‘Mind you, I told Ethne I’d be happy to give her away as a bride, but not her job. I’ll just have to cope while the newly-weds are off sailing the high seas.’

  ‘I heard Barney had found a buyer for his boat. Good on him.’

  ‘And they’re delivering it to Coffs Harbour on the back of that giant semi. Imagine the two of them. Ethne reckoned she was going to strap herself to the top of the boat and do her own Priscilla Queen of the Desert thing—wedding dress and all—until Noah advised against it.’

  ‘Good on Noah.’

  Maggie picked up the superbly wrapped wedding present—Fiona was also very good at gift wrapping—before grabbing her handbag off the bed.

  ‘Your gift to the bride and groom?’

  ‘Not my first choice. I was going to hold their reception as a gift until Ethne told me they were going away straight after the church service. I had to think again. Did you know you can email a photograph through The Camera House website and have them post it back in the mail as a giant canvas? Will and Sara made the frame. And guess what else? I’ve been keeping this a secret, but I have to tell you.’

  Dan tipped his head to one side. ‘What?’

  ‘You know the pictures Fiona has been putting on the website she made for me? Well, I actually had a book publisher email me about using one of them as cover art for a novel. I could actually make my first sale.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ Dan said. ‘I’ve got a secret of my own.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  ‘I will, but we need to get going. Will you do something for me?’

  Maggie nodded.

  ‘After waving the newlyweds off, I want you to wait at the church for me.’ There was a blast of a horn. ‘Uh-oh, I’d better go. See you there.’

  ‘I kind of thought the next wedding might be yours,’ said Sara, pressing a tissue into M
aggie’s palm, encouraging her fingers to curl around the scrunched-up white ball.

  Maggie didn’t know what to say as she wiped tears of joy from her eyes and waved goodbye to the back end of Barney’s semi-trailer with its ‘Just Married’ sign trailing about a million purple balloons, with Ethne’s wibbly-wobbly arms waving frantically out the passenger window—all swallowed up by a billowing dust cloud.

  ‘The thing about fairy tales, Sara, is not everyone gets the happy ever after. I have to be realistic. Dan’s life and his kids are in the city. Besides, there’s not much call for crash investigators in the country. With old Charlie refusing to budge, and swearing he’ll have to be carted out of his house feet first, Dan will probably visit more often. So it’s a pretty happy ending. Dan gets his dad back, you get a new baby soon, Ethne gets her prince, and I get to be a wicked step-mother.’

  Sara laughed so loud that the last of the wedding guests looked back and Will wheeled across to join them. ‘Fiona’s lucky to have you.’

  ‘Come on you two,’ Will urged. ‘Time to get to the pub and break in the new bar-man! Maggie, love, what were you thinking hiring a bloke?’

  Sara thumped Will in the shoulder. ‘I think it’s cool having a bit of eye-candy for the girls for a change. Well done, Maggie.’

  ‘His name’s Aiden and it’s only temporary. He’s keen to work, and happy to do long shifts to make it worth his travel time. He’ll be driving out from Coolabah Tree Gully.’

  ‘That is keen.’

  ‘His uncle owns the pub there, so he knows his way around one. He’s also a qualified chef. I mean really qualified, and in some fancy Sydney restaurants too, so Fiona approved, of course.’ Maggie laughed. ‘The timing couldn’t be better.’

  ‘What are we waiting for then?’

  ‘You two go. I’m waiting for Dan. He was here a while ago. He asked me to wait. I’m sure I won’t be long.’ Maggie glanced around the church grounds, even stepping back to peer inside the church doors.

  ‘Okay, gorgeous, let’s not dilly-dally,’ Will said to Sara. ‘You’re pushing. I’m preserving the strength in my arms for drinking games and you need pram pushing practice. Come on, Little Mama. Mush! Mush!’

  Maggie looked at her watch, then checked inside the church one last time. No Dan, just sad memories of Sundays from her childhood now the church was empty. The old organ was gone, replaced with a tinny-sounding amplifier and pre-recorded music, which was why today Maggie had escorted Ethne down the aisle to Noah’s composition.

  She stepped outside and into the sunshine and relished the warmth on her shoulders of a perfect autumn day with its cloudless blue sky. She closed her eyes for a moment.

  ‘Ouch!’ She flattened a palm on her head and rubbed. ‘Ouch!’ Another plop, followed by a scattering of berries on the ground around her feet.

  There was one very big fig bird in that Moreton Bay fig tree and Maggie had a good idea it answered to the name …

  ‘Dan Ireland!’ She slammed her hands on both hips. ‘If that’s you …’ She could see him perched on the massive limb that reached out thick and strong towards her. ‘You don’t think that hurts any more?’

  ‘Just getting your attention. All I ever wanted to do.’

  ‘Well, you have it. Now what?’

  ‘Come closer.’

  Stumbling as a heel dug into the soft ground, she lifted her feet one at a time and with the flick of a finger the slingbacks were off and dangling from her hand. She moved closer, stepping over the far-reaching buttress roots clawing their way to new ground, until she was close enough to see his laugh lines—white in his newly bronzed face. Dan had laughed a lot of late, and in the sun: all those hours spent at their secret place by the river with the never-give-up tree.

  ‘Come down before you hurt yourself. What are you doing?’

  ‘I wanted to tell you something.’

  ‘You’re a fig bird in real life?’

  ‘I’m resigning.’

  She felt a rush of happiness to her heart. ‘From the police service? But why?’

  ‘Because I’ll be staying in Calingarry Crossing, that’s why.’

  She held in the tiny gasp and its accompanying smile with four fingers pressed against her mouth.

  ‘No cross-examination, Madam Prosecutor?’

  ‘What about your life in Sydney?’

  ‘My kids are looking forward to coming out in the holidays, especially after I told them there was internet. I also bought an X-Box. In the meantime I plan to make amends with the old man. He’s going to need help, not that he’s admitting it. The property could do with some TLC and I wouldn’t mind being a country boy again, ’specially now I have a horse.’

  ‘Wow, that’s great … about your dad. I’m so pleased things are working out for you both.’

  ‘Don’t go popping the cork on the champers just yet. Besides, I have one more thing to figure out with a woman who has never been far from my thoughts.’

  Dan jumped to the ground, grunted as he almost tripped over a tree root, before regrouping with a laugh. Looking incredibly sexy, he took the couple of paces required to close the gap between them.

  ‘Dan,’ Maggie said in a cautionary voice as two strong hands grasped her shoulders. ‘Be warned. My heart won’t weather any more disappointment.’

  ‘I’m not aiming to disappoint, Maggie. I’m aiming to hang around and help you out while Ethne’s away. I know you’re capable of doing it all without any help, but you shouldn’t have to. Let me share the load. I can be quite useful, not to mention resourceful.’ He winked.

  ‘Resourceful, Dan Ireland?’

  ‘Yes, Maggie Lindeman. I’ve finally figured out a place I can take you for dinner. Once Ethne’s back, we’ll go there.’

  ‘Where is there, exactly?’

  ‘It’s a lovely little place you might’ve heard about, set in a resort: intimate dinners for two, breakfast in bed every morning, sunset walks on the beach. It’s a little spot in the Whitsundays called Lindeman Island. I hear it’s particularly wonderful in winter. What do you think?’

  Maggie paused to take a breath, to savour the moment, to survey the unblemished blue sky.

  ‘I think,’ she said, looking into Dan’s eyes, ‘I’m ready for a wonderful winter.’

  Maggie Lindeman’s past, present and her future had converged and was standing right in front of her—and there wasn’t a storm cloud in sight.

  Amber Leaves

  (Brian’s song)

  A father’s love is kind of special,

  Nothing else can take its place.

  With no chance to show the love I have,

  My heart’s a cold and empty space.

  The child I never got to know,

  No chance to play my part.

  I know you would have loved me if you knew,

  If I hadn’t kept us apart.

  [CHORUS]

  Amber leaves, broken hearts,

  And a winter frost sets in.

  It’s a long, cold, lonely life for me,

  If I never hold you in my arms again.

  Amber leaves, broken hearts,

  And a winter frost sets in.

  It’s a long, cold lonely life for me,

  If I never see my baby girl again.

  ~

  And I can’t stop thinkin’ ’bout the choice I made,

  How I never gave myself a chance.

  I know in my heart, if I don’t see you again,

  My life’s a long, cold, lonely dance.

  The baby I never got to hold,

  No chance to play a part.

  I’d been a fool to think our lives would cross,

  Once Amber left and broke my heart.

  [REPEAT CHORUS]

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I    did not write this book alone. Producing and distributing Simmering Season took a team of amazingly talented people.

  Thanks to …

  Simon and Schuster (especially those behind the scenes I neve
r meet). The love you put into making my books look beautiful, and getting them to readers, is truly appreciated.

  The irreplaceable Jeannette McAnderson whose invaluable and wide-ranging contribution made this book happen—the words ‘thank you’ are never enough, but to list the number of ways you inspire me would, I fear, add significantly to my page count!

  Belinda Castles and Roberta Ivers for your extraordinary editing talent—and a special thank you for your patience, guidance, and many smiley emoticons!

  To the booksellers who support Australian authors and the book reviewers who were so generous in their praise and support of House for all Seasons. I hope you enjoy Maggie’s story just as much.

  For technical advice regarding policing procedures in this novel, I thank my dad and Inspector Mal Smith and Amanda Reynolds-Smith who so readily came to my assistance. (Any errors will be mine, mostly because I am a fiction writer which means I’m allowed to make things up!)

  My many writer friends who show their support every day by sharing the love. Hugs to you all—with special thanks to beta readers Annie Seaton and Tracey Alvarez. And a special thank you to Cath Evans. Cath was instrumental in helping me through an early (frantic) draft of House for all Seasons and without that help Simmering Season would not exist today.

  To my readers …

  I have fabulous readers. I know because many of you write to me, or ‘friend’ me, or ‘follow’ me—in a non-stalking kind of way! Thank you. The best thing a reader can do is share their enjoyment with other booklover friends.

  Finally, to the dedicated emergency services men and women forced to face the aftermath of a crash: You are amazing. And to the best NRMA road safety education team ever: Stephen Gray, John Brown, Pam Leicester and Jack Haley. What memories!

  Stay safe and keep reading,

  Jenn J

  P.S. Huge thanks to John (The Piano Man) Watson for lending his musical talent to bring my song to life. See my website for more about John, the song ‘Amber Leaves’ and to connect on Facebook and Twitter.

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