Emergency Response (10 page)

“Yes!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down on the spot like a child who had just won a prize at the show. “I win!”

“By default,” he said with a frown. It was obvious he wasn’t used to losing.

“Are you sulking?” she teased.

“No!”

“Good. A win is a win,” Mackenzie answered, poking him in the chest with the tip of her cue. “Now, what’s for dinner? I feel like one of those steaks. Unless of course you want to play best of three.”

Nathan laughed then and took the cue from her hand, placing it back in the rack on the wall. Mackenzie began pulling balls from the pocket and placing them back on the table.

“Congratulations, Mackenzie Jones, you win.”

“So, does that make me Iron Ridge pool champion?” she asked, turning to look at him.

Nathan shook his head. “No, this wasn’t a proper game. The championship games are only played on Saturday nights.”

Mackenzie burst out laughing. “You’re sulking, Nathan Kennedy, and no one likes a sore loser!”

“What else do you want me to say? I said congratulations and I’ll buy you dinner as I promised,” he said, grinning at her again. Mackenzie was certain if they’d touched, electricity would have sparked between them.

“How about a proper congratulations?” he asked.

Nathan held out his right hand and as she reached to take it, she tripped over her own feet, flailing her arms as she lost her balance. Nathan grabbed her by the upper arms to steady her. His large hands were soft and warm, leaving the burning imprint of his fingers on her bare skin. His face was so close she smelled mint on his breath and for a moment she closed her eyes and imagined he was about to kiss her. The sound of a slap of a hand on Nathan’s back broke the moment and she glanced up to see one of his mates drape an arm across Nathan’s shoulder.

“Looks like you’ve found a good one here,” he said, grinning at Mackenzie. “Any girl who can play that well is worth hanging onto I reckon. Nice to meet ya, Mackenzie. See you ’round.”

They made their way into the back bar and Nathan steered her gently to a quiet table in the corner, pulling out the chair for her. “So, am I still buying you a steak?”

“Yes please!” Mackenzie said as she sat.

She watched Nathan walk through the crowded room, stopping to chat to people on the way toward the bar where he ordered and paid for their meals. She couldn’t get enough of looking at him. Tonight he was dressed as casually as always in shorts and a buttoned-up shirt. The shirt was untucked over the shorts and the top buttons were undone, giving her a glimpse of a tiny smattering of dark hair. He was tall and toned – easily the best-looking man in the room – and she wasn’t surprised when women turned their heads when he passed. She was surprised, however, when he didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe that’s what his sister meant when she said he was picky.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers a few minutes later.

It had taken him ages to make his way back from the bar through the throng of people. He had stopped to say g’day to almost everyone.

“Thanks,
loser
,” she laughed, taking a sip of her drink through the straw. She leaned back in her chair and grinned at him.

“You’ve only beaten me
once
and if I wasn’t so hungry I would have agreed to a best of three competition and
then
we’d see who the loser is!”

“I like a man with a competitive streak,” Mackenzie said.

“And I like to play to win.”

“As do I,” she replied.

A relaxed silence fell between them.

“So, how was work today?” he asked. “Other than Bev.”

“Busy.”

“And Bev? Will she be okay?”

Mackenzie touched his arm gently. “She’ll be fine, Nathan. I told you that. Stop worrying. She’s a tough lady.”

Nathan smiled. “You’ve got that right. She has to be tough to work here and put up with yobbos like these blokes.” He indicated another group of miners who had just barged through the door, ready for their nightly post-work drink or two.

“Why do you look so different from them?” Mackenzie asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, puckering his brow.

“Oh come on. You know what I mean. No tattoos, no beard, no bright yellow and orange clothing. You couldn’t possibly look any more different from the other blokes here if you tried.”

One corner of his mouth tilted upward in a teasing smirk. “And how would you know I’m not covered in tattoos underneath this?” He lifted the front of his shirt slightly and then dropped it again, giving her a teasing glimpse of a very tanned, and toned, stomach. Thankfully, she could see no sign of any markings. She wasn’t into the heavily tattooed look many guys (and girls) favored. Nathan smirked when he saw her looking.

“Somehow I didn’t think tattoos would be your thing,” she said hastily, trying to cover her embarrassment at having been caught perving on him. She wished her heart rate would slow down so she could think straight and behave rationally.

“You’re right. Not my thing at all. What about you? You probably have a tattoo hidden somewhere! Plenty of girls do,” he said.

Mackenzie blushed. “You know what they say about regrets? Well I’ve got at least one!” When Nathan’s eyes widened, she laughed again. “Yep, I’ve got the obligatory butterfly on my back.” She touched her left shoulder blade with the fingers of her right hand. “Sadly, it looks less like a butterfly these days and more like a moth. At the time I also wanted to get this flower design on the side of my foot. I am so glad I chickened out after the first one hurt so much. Plus the bloke told me with ankles like mine it wasn’t worth highlighting them with a tattoo!”

Nathan’s eyes widened further in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? He
said
that?!”

Mackenzie stuck her feet out from beneath the table, kicked off her flip-flops and wriggled her toes. “He was probably right in hindsight. I wouldn’t describe my ankles as delicate, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with them,” Nathan said, gazing at her feet before letting his eyes trail slowly upward. Her dress had hitched up to mid-thigh when she had sat and she gave it a quick tug back down. Warmth rushed up her neck and face like an out-of-control grassfire. She took a quick sip of her drink and hoped he hadn’t seen the telltale change of color on her skin. Her emotions were all over the place.

“I reckon if I’d gone ahead with the flower I’d picked out, it would have ended up looking like a weed.”

Nathan laughed. “That bad, hey?”

“You have no idea.”

“And you said it hurt?”

“It hurt like hell! More than a swarm of angry wasps attacking me.”

Nathan chuckled. “Because you’d know what that feels like, I presume.”

Mackenzie kicked at him under the table and her toes touched his bare shin. “You know what I mean!”

“Why did you get it done then?”

“I don’t exactly know. Maybe it was an act of rebellion. My father hated tattoos. I think I got it because I was young and stupid and hadn’t given it much thought. All I remember is I’d had too much to drink one night and a group of us were wandering the streets of Sydney after our final nursing exams looking for some fun. We stumbled across this dodgy place where the bloke had more tattoos than teeth and I waltzed in and got it done, just like that.” She shuddered involuntarily at the memory. “How I didn’t end up with some sort of infection, I have no idea! I regretted it the moment he was finished and if I had the money now, I’d get it removed.”

“Why did you choose a butterfly?”

Mackenzie groaned and shook her head. “Who knows? I’m sure it had some sort of tremendous significance at the time. On the other hand, perhaps I thought it was a pretty design. Now it embarrasses me to be honest. Anyway, enough about my so-called body art. You didn’t answer my question. Why do you look so different from the majority of the guys who work in the mines?”

“So you’ve noticed?”

I’ve
definitely
noticed!
Heat tore through her and she felt the warmth start to burn her face at the thought.

“When I first moved here I grew a beard, wore my work clothes everywhere and I fitted in perfectly with these guys.”

Nathan ran his hand through his short hair and then across his freshly shaven face and jaw. Mackenzie followed the trail of his hand across his face. His hand was large, his fingers long.

“The longer I stayed here, the more I realized it wasn’t me. I guess you could say I’m more of a clean-cut kind of guy,” he said.

Tall. Dark. Slim. Clean cut. Well dressed.
Mackenzie ticked off the list in her head. “Just the way I like them,” she said without thinking.

She had spoken quietly, almost under her breath, but by the look on Nathan’s face it had still been loud enough for him to hear. He stared at her again and she saw the flash of gold in his eyes. What had happened to her brain? She stared into her drink. Had he spiked it with “truth” tablets or something?

“What else have you noticed about me then?” Nathan asked. He sat back in his seat and crossed his long legs at the ankles, resting his right arm across the back of the empty seat beside him. In doing so, his shirt pulled up at the waist, giving her another glimpse of his perfect stomach. “Or perhaps the question should be: what’s your ideal man?”

Mackenzie remained silent, now completely embarrassed. It wasn’t like her to be so forward and flirtatious and she was positive she was the color of a ripe tomato. At the rate the night was going, she’d need to dig a hole and climb into it very soon! How had she gone from saying yes to a simple game of pool followed by a friendly dinner at the pub to now discussing her likes and dislikes when it came to what constituted the perfect-looking man?
And
having the discussion with said perfect-looking man?

Nathan sensed her discomfort and moved on. “Okay. I’ll leave that question for now. Back to your earlier question. Why do I look different to the other guys around here? I work in management in the office most of the time. I tend to only dress in the high-vis stuff when I’m on site.”

In an attempt to move on from discussing all things physical she asked the first question which came to mind. “So how long do you think you’ll stay here?” She recalled him saying he was only working in the mines for the money until he decided what was next.

Nathan exhaled and sat forward again in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. “That same question seems to be the constant elephant in the room whenever I’m back home. The answer is always the same. I just don’t know.”

“Did you ever end up looking into what you’d have to do to go back and get your teaching qualification?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Maybe you simply need a deadline.”

“What do you mean?”

Their meals arrived and Mackenzie’s eyes widened at the size of the steak placed in front of her. It was almost hanging over the sides of her plate. Thick beer-battered chips filled up a third of the plate and a few measly pieces of iceberg lettuce and a couple of cherry tomatoes and slices of cucumber made up her side salad. The waitress plonked a half empty bottle of Heinz tomato sauce onto the table between them.

Nathan laughed at her expression.

“I take it this is the first time you’ve eaten here at the pub?”

“It is.”

“Next time can I suggest you order the chicken?”

“There’s no way I can finish all this.”

“No worries. Eat what you can and leave the rest.” Mackenzie watched him drown his chips in sauce, then pick up the knife, and begin to cut his meat. “So you were saying I need a deadline.”

“Yes,” Mackenzie answered. This was safer territory. Better than discussing her ideas on the perfect man. “Tell yourself you’re going to go back to university next year to get your teaching qualification or whatever it is you need to do so you can teach. That gives you both a deadline
and
a plan.”

“But I’m not even sure I want to teach,” he said, sighing heavily before taking a bite of his steak and chewing slowly.

“That’s fair enough. If you don’t want to teach, that’s okay. Maybe there’s something else you might like to do instead. You can’t stay working here forever. You said yourself you don’t see yourself staying here long term.”

Nathan placed his knife and fork on his plate with a clatter and just like that the happy mood between them fizzled like a deflating balloon.

“I hate this feeling of pressure I always get whenever this conversation comes up. It’s like I’m supposed to be doing something with my life instead of just working in the mines and earning money.”

His anger surprised her. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine.” He started eating again.

Clearly it was anything
but
fine. For a brief moment she caught a glimpse of the real Nathan – the one not everyone saw. He might
look
like he had his life together, but maybe he wasn’t as perfect as she’d first thought.

An uneasy disquiet fell between them. Mackenzie ran her finger down the side of her glass, catching the drops of condensation as they fell. She’d lost her appetite. Cutlery scraped against plates and the cheers from the men watching sport on the large flat-screen television behind the bar punctuated the silence.

Finally when he’d finished, Nathan pushed his plate away. “I’m sorry, Mackenzie, I totally ruined the mood. And we were having such a good night.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have brought the subject up. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I could see you’re not happy.”

“And I shouldn’t be so touchy about it,” he said.

“So then what’s the problem?” she asked kindly. “Why are you so prickly about it?”

“Have you finished?” he asked, pointing to her half-eaten meal.

“As much as I’m able to.”

Nathan stood. “It’s stuffy in here. Let’s go outside. Are you happy to go for a walk?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Mackenzie stood, pushing back her own chair.

Nathan held out his hand and she placed hers in it, surprised at the heat radiating from his touch. His skin was soft and warm and their fingers spontaneously entwined as though it was completely natural to be holding hands. A few minutes later they finally managed to say their good-byes and escape. She enjoyed the feeling of her hand in his and was pleased when he didn’t let go even after they’d left the noisy confines of the pub.

They started walking slowly up the street. The air was hot and dry and there wasn’t even a hint of a cool breeze. The streets were deserted and the houses quiet. Probably half the population of Iron Ridge was at the pub.

“The problem is this issue keeps coming up. It has ever since I came back from the UK,” he said as they started walking slowly up the street, hand in hand.

“How does it keep coming up?” Mackenzie asked. “What do you mean?”

“My parents. Kate. Everyone wants to know when I’m coming back home, settling down. They want me to get married, start a family. Decide what I’m going to
do
with the rest of my life. You pretty much asked the same question tonight. The problem is, I simply don’t know. I love it here in Iron Ridge, but as you said, I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life here. And that leaves me with a bigger question to answer: where is home?”

Mackenzie asked herself the same question often. As much as she was enjoying her time in the Pilbara, living there was not a permanent solution. Like Nathan, she was unsure what was in her future or where she would be living, but it certainly wasn’t in the middle of the desert. It was a fun change of pace and an awesome experience, but it wasn’t part of her long-term plan.

“Sounds like we’re both in the same situation,” she said.

“Yeah, but at least you’ve got a career. All I’ve got is this well-paid job I don’t even enjoy.”

“So quit.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Mackenzie looked around her, not certain where they were going. Nathan seemed to be leading her aimlessly in no particular direction.