Feels Like Home (7 page)

He'd been pretty brutal at the grocery store — maybe too brutal, if he was honest. Thinking back on their conversation, he realised he'd behaved like a child. She'd rejected him, and his pride was still hurt, so he'd behaved like a jerk. It was the type of behaviour he was constantly warning Ella against.
‘
Two wrongs don't make a right' was a frequent refrain in their house. And in this case Jo hadn't done anything wrong. Not recently anyway. How on earth could he expect Ella to know how to treat others if this was the example he was setting? He'd have to do better. Getting Jo back on side wouldn't be easy. He winced. Maybe he'd have to grovel a bit, which would pretty much kill him. But if that's what it took he'd do it. Anything for Nate.

CHAPTER

6

Jo brushed the dust from her hands and surveyed the attic with satisfaction.

Unable to shake the wretched jetlag, she'd been awake since four. At five she figured she might as well make good use of the time by taking care of some chores. She pulled out her iPad and tapped out a short blog post for
An Outsider's Guide to Inside New York
. She'd quickly organised a replacement blogger before boarding the plane, but didn't want her regular readers thinking she'd forsaken them.

Once that was done she set to work sorting through the stuff in the attic. If she was going to sell this house she needed to make sure everything was in order before she headed back to America. Now only a few dust-covered boxes were left on the shelves up here. Once they were sorted she could shut this room up for good.

She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms out in front of her to relieve her aching muscles. All the lifting and stair climbing was exhausting. Better than a session at the gym really, which was lucky seeing as she had not managed to squeeze in any other exercise since leaving home. Besides, the physical work helped to stop the thoughts and images that had swirled in her head ever since she clapped eyes on Ryan at the football field.

There was plenty to keep her busy up here. Aside from a few functional but ancient electrical appliances, the room mainly contained archive boxes — dozens of them — filled with meticulously filed papers. Strange that her mother would keep all these documents, when she claimed to despise sentimentality in all its forms. Granted there were few keepsakes to sort through. There were no baby clothes, treasured toys or tattered drawings to evoke memories and tug at the heartstrings. All of those had been discarded once they were no longer useful. But it seemed she had kept every word that had ever been written to her, or about her.

Everything from legal papers and journal articles to Jo's old school reports was meticulously filed. There was even a whole box of Christmas cards the family had received over the years. Maybe there was a sliver of sentimentality in her mum after all.

Most of the boxes were earmarked for the bin, but these last half a dozen would need to be sorted through.

Jo carefully removed the lid of a box marked
Johanna
—
Personal Correspondence
and pulled out a birthday card.

Warmth spread through her chest and tears pricked in Jo's eyes as she remembered Nanna Lil's twinkling eyes and sense of fun. She'd been Jo's ally in the early years, before cancer had taken the flesh from her bones, the light from her eyes and, eventually, the life from her body.

Jo pressed the card to her lips. ‘I miss you still, Nanna,' she whispered.

She replaced the card and pulled out a bundle of letters bound together with a perfectly tied satin ribbon. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised what these were.

Ryan's letters.

He'd written every week that she was away at school and she'd kept each one, sleeping with it under her pillow until the next eagerly awaited missive arrived. Ryan's letters had kept her sane during those long months away. His sharp witticisms about life in Linden Gully made her laugh out loud and his tender expressions of love brought tears to her eyes. Each week he sent her a lifeline, something to hold on to in the sea of despair that was her life at boarding school.

Clearly her mother had had no qualms about prising open the locked metal box these letters were stored in. The heat spread from her chest and up into her cheeks as she imagined her mother reading Ryan's beautiful words.

She pulled on the ribbon and let it fall to the floor, greedily seeking Ryan's familiar handwriting.

Jo smiled. Ryan had always believed in her, even before she believed in herself.

Jo's laughter echoed through the almost-empty attic as she read Ryan's recount of being stuck in line at the supermarket while Mrs Kingcott gave Sarah Petersen a blow-by-blow description of her recent hysterectomy (or ‘women's troubles', as Mrs Kingcott had discreetly euphemised).

He went on to talk about the Lions' chances of winning a game this season (dismal), Nate's new foal (he was there at the birth!), and Dan's new girlfriend from the city (annoying princess type).

And then suddenly he was serious.

Jo's eyes filled with tears at the memory of reading these words for the first time.

Things had been so simple back then. She and Ryan were in love. All they wanted was to be together. During her boarding-school years he was everything to her, her reason for being.

But then they started to grow up and Jo discovered she had bigger dreams than simply being Ryan's girlfriend. She wanted to write, but to do that she knew she would have to experience life outside the confines of Linden Gully.

She picked up the box and rifled through the envelopes again. Right at the bottom of the box she found what she was looking for, a tattered envelope containing a faded computer printout. She remembered the thrill of opening that letter to discover an offer of a place at Melbourne University. It was her ticket out of this place and to her it was better than winning the lottery. The day the offer had arrived in the mail Ryan rode his pushbike all the way out to Yarrapinga to tell her the news that he'd got in to Veterinary Science at the same university. It seemed they were destined to be together.

Katherine had been less than thrilled to find that Ryan would be at Melbourne Uni too. She spent hours lecturing Jo about not wasting her opportunities, and Jo assured her that was one thing she didn't need to worry about. Her mother did all she could to make sure Jo didn't set up house with Ryan, paying for a room in the Halls of Residence that Jo rarely used. Ryan shared a house in Carlton with two other students and she'd spent most of her time there. In her youthful naivety she thought her willingness to spend every night in Ryan's bed was proof of her love. She didn't think she needed to wear his ring as a sign of her commitment to their relationship.

Sometimes she wished she could wind back the clock to their last night together. If only she hadn't been so full of herself and her own ambition. If only she'd explained herself better, given Ryan reason to believe it wasn't the end, maybe…

Maybe what? She and Ryan would be happily married and living on a farm here in the Gully with two kids and a couple of dogs, her dream of writing a novel still just that — a dream? Ryan might have settled for that life, but she feared that — just like her mother — she would have been sent slowly insane being a farmer's wife here in the middle of nowhere. And she would have blamed him eventually. Resented him the way her mother resented her father. Living in Linden Gully had killed her parents' marriage and, as young as she was when she left, she'd already worked out that history was bound to repeat itself unless she did something to break free.

She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. There really was no time for this. She couldn't agonise over every single paper stored or take endless side trips down memory lane. At this rate the job would never be done.

Whatever was to be kept would have to be sent to New York, so she needed to be ruthless. Reluctantly she placed the letter back into the box and replaced the lid without looking at another thing. It was easier that way. The box went in the stack to be thrown away, along with the Christmas-card box, school reports and a number of other papers.

Before long only one box remained. It was sealed tight with layers of packaging tape. Jo picked at the edges of the tape but quickly realised she would need scissors or a box-cutter to get through the layers of adhesive. She brushed herself off once more and climbed downstairs to search the kitchen for the appropriate tool.

The sun streamed through the windows above the sink, warming Jo's back as she rifled through the drawers. A sudden rap on the window startled her and she dropped the can opener she was holding on her foot. ‘Dammit!'

‘Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.' Ryan's voice came from outside. ‘Are you okay?'

She looked up to find him peering at her through the dusty glass. What now? Was he here to berate her further for yesterday's attempt at smoothing things over? ‘No. You made me drop the can opener on my foot.' She opened the door.

He appeared to be suppressing a grin. ‘Again, sorry.'

She resisted the temptation to laugh, but it was hard. He'd always had that ability to disarm her with his smile. But after his performance in Glasson's yesterday she wasn't about to let him off so easily. ‘What do you want, Ryan?'

He removed his battered Akubra and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I've brought you something. A peace offering if you like.'

She shook her head. ‘There's no need. I'm fine with the way things are. Honestly, I think we should just stay away from each other as much as possible. You made your position very clear yesterday. There's really no need for us to go over the same old ground again and again.'

He looked down, seemingly addressing his next remark to his dirt-caked boots. ‘I'm sorry about that too. I had no right to speak to you the way I did yesterday. I behaved like an idiot.' He turned his head towards the front of the property. ‘I wanted to do something to make it up to you.'

She followed his gaze and saw two horses tied to the gatepost. ‘Horses? You brought me horses?' Surely this was some kind of joke?

‘Horse, singular. The mare is for you, the gelding's mine.'

‘Um, thanks for the thought, Ryan, but I don't think the doorman in my building will approve of me taking a horse up in the elevator.'

‘She's not to keep, smarty-pants. She's for you to ride while you're here. I know how much you love to ride and I figured you might not get the chance to do it in New York.'

‘Oh…' Jo looked out at the beautiful bay mare, unsure of what to say. She had to admit it was a thoughtful gesture. Riding had been such a part of her life here, and Ryan was right, it was one of the things she badly missed when she was in New York. But if she accepted this offer she would be establishing a tie with Ryan, and she wasn't sure that was wise.

‘That's very kind of you, but I really don't think it's a good idea.'

‘Why?'

Jo hesitated before answering. She knew what it would have taken for Ryan to swallow his pride and make this gesture. She didn't want to seem ungracious. ‘I haven't ridden for ages. Maybe I've forgotten how.'

Ryan laughed. ‘Don't be ridiculous. You're one of the finest riders this district's ever produced. You're a natural, Jo. A few years out of the saddle's not going to change that.'

She smiled at the compliment. ‘Thanks, but I think you're overestimating my abilities. And anyway, I can't deprive you of one of your horses for weeks.'

‘It's no sacrifice, believe me. Pepper doesn't get as much exercise as I'd like. She belongs to Bec, but she and Dan are away on holidays for a month, so poor old Pepper's getting fat.'

Jo's throat constricted at the mention of Ryan's brother and his wife. She and Bec had been close once. They'd even affectionately called each other ‘sis', figuring that eventually they'd be actual sisters-in-law. These days she wasn't exactly on Dan and Bec's Christmas-card list. ‘Won't Bec be peeved if she finds out you've leased her horse out…to me?'

‘What she doesn't know won't hurt her. They're in Queensland and won't be back until after the wedding. Honestly Jo, you'd be doing me and Bec a favour.' He moved away from the kitchen door and gestured for her to follow him down the verandah steps. ‘Just come and say hello, see if you like her. I reckon you two are a match made in heaven.' He started striding towards the gate and Jo found herself following behind.

‘Here she is. Isn't she a beauty?' Ryan gently tugged on Pepper's bridle until she turned her head towards Jo.