Jilted (24 page)

She let the tears fall freely. Lately it felt like she housed a never-ending supply of saltwater in her body, but hopefully she was wrong. Maybe she only had a certain number of tears in her, and once she’d shed them that would be it. Maybe, if she were lucky, losing all that liquid from her body would make her feel lighter. It was a futile hope, but the tears were coming fast and furious whether she liked it or not – she may as well wish for the best.

Hours passed as Ellie sat on the side of the road. The sun began to set, painting a vivid blood-orange-and-royal-blue painting in the sky. The temperature began to fall. When a kangaroo stopped in front of her at the sight of headlights ahead, she realised she’d been there too long. She reached a finger to her eyes. They were dry now, but her heart still felt like a canoe with a cruise ship’s anchor.

After Ellie left, Flynn saddled up his black gelding, Elton, and his mother’s white mare, Marilyn, and forced a smile at Lauren. She looked a little nervous, almost sheepish, as she stood beside him in the stables, hugging her arms around her chest. He was no longer in the mood for social riding, but it wasn’t Lauren’s fault. Likewise, he shouldn’t feel guilty about Ellie finding him with another woman. He hated that he did. Hated the hold she had over him. He was so irritated that all he wanted to do was to jump on old Elton and ride until his thighs burned. Burned so bad that he could think of nothing but the physical pain.

But that wasn’t going to happen today. Unofficially, this was a first date – he’d wanted it to be. He swallowed and offered to help Lauren onto her steed. ‘Are you ready?’

‘You betcha,’ Lauren said and took his hand. It was soft and comforting, but there was none of the spark he’d hoped to find at her touch, not with the ghost of Ellie hanging around. He had to give her –
them –
a chance.

‘Great. I haven’t had a good ride for an age.’ He helped Lauren and then heaved himself up onto Elton. He pulled the straps of his small backpack taut – it held a few provisions for the afternoon – and racked his brain for something to talk about. Something other than Ellie’s unexpected visit. He hoped Lauren would follow his lead and not raise the subject.

He knew she’d come to talk about Lucy and that he shouldn’t feel bad, but he could read Ellie like a book. Still. The encounter had wounded her pride, definitely, her heart, maybe. Not that she had any right to feel such things – she’d lost that privilege the day she’d left him. But fucking hell … he still felt like a prick. Horseriding had been
their
thing. On their first dates he’d taught Ellie to ride, and riding had given them an excuse – as well as the means – to get far away from the farm and civilisation, to be alone. He’d even bought a horse for her as a wedding present, not that she ever knew about that. Dammit, would he never be able to spend time with another woman without feeling like this?

‘You okay, Flynn?’

He looked up. Usually he did his stewing in solitude. He nodded. ‘Sure. Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’ He sounded like a rambling fool.

‘No reason, it’s just …’ Lauren’s mouth stayed open for a second but no words came. Smart, she snapped it shut.

He needed to say something. Anything to take his and Lauren’s minds off the bane of his existence. To bring the tone of the day back to fun and relaxed. He’d been enjoying Lauren’s company until Ellie turned up. Eventually he managed, ‘Fancy a bet?’ When she raised a confused brow, he explained. ‘Let’s wager how long it’ll be until Rats puts a bun in Whitney’s oven.’ It was stupid, but
it was the first thing that came into his head. Up until now, their friends had been the only thing they’d had in common. ‘Closest guess wins. Loser buys the winner dinner at the roadhouse.’

‘The roadhouse? You’re all class, aren’t you, Flynn Quartermaine?’

‘Sure am, Ms Simpson.’ He tipped his cap and winked, willing the tension in his body away. He was a strong believer in mind over matter. It was his mind that had pulled him from the abyss eight years ago. He could relax and enjoy the afternoon with a good-looking, eager woman if he put enough energy into it. ‘So, what do you say?’

She leaned slightly off her horse and held out her hand. ‘It’s a deal. I like a good bet. And for my money, I think we’ll hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet within a year. If Whitney has anything to say about it, that is.’

‘A year?’ Flynn scoffed. ‘Rats isn’t stupid. He’s heard enough stories of what happens once a baby arrives. I’m saying two.’

Lauren giggled knowingly as the horses began to trot. ‘I didn’t know you were a betting man, Flynn.’

‘There’s probably a lot you don’t know.’

‘Is that a challenge? You should know I like a challenge as much as I like a bet.’ They rode slowly side by side. ‘And I want you to know, I usually win.’

She was flirting. Or at least trying hard at it. The thought had his heart thumping, but he couldn’t tell if it were in a good way or a bad. Regardless, he wasn’t in the mood for flirting back.

‘Is that right?’ He glanced ahead, drafting an idea. A plan in which he wouldn’t have to worry about flirting or making conversation. ‘How about a race, then? First one to Oak Smith Reserve is the winner.’

She followed his gaze, a slight frown creasing her perfectly plucked eyebrows. It crossed his mind that she was a lot more polished, more preened than Ellie. Her beauty a lot less natural.

‘How far is Oak Smith?’ she asked eventually.

He shrugged. ‘About three k.’

‘Well, since most of that is on Black Stump land, I’d say you have the distinct advantage. I’d want to be playing for something decidedly worth my while. Not a dinner at the roadhouse.’

‘Okay then, if you win, I’ll take you to Perth for the weekend. We’ll dine at an establishment of your choice.’

Her eyes danced with anticipation. ‘And if
you
win?’

There was no
if
about it, but he’d humour her. ‘You bake me a couple of cakes to take to practice on Tuesday night. It’s my turn to bring supper.’

The light left her eyes and her shoulders visibly slumped. Her pout was more pronounced than that of a pug. ‘I really didn’t think drama was your thing.’

He didn’t want to talk about the play or his subconscious motives for getting involved. He wanted to ride, fast. ‘Well, are you up for it? That direction.’ He pointed north.

Lauren flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned to face north. ‘On your marks,’ she said, eyeing Flynn sideways. ‘Get set …’ She readied herself at the reins, pausing longer than necessary. ‘Go!’ She kicked her legs, surprising Marilyn. The horse yanked her head up high and launched into a fast gallop.

This was an ingenious plan, thought Flynn, urging Elton on in pursuit. He could ride away his anger, ride away his confusion. On another day, in another mood, he might have played a bit and given Lauren the chance to win. At least let her think she might for a little while. But not today. He rode fast to catch up, and as man and horse cantered past Lauren and Marilyn, Flynn gave an arrogant wave. He didn’t look back as the dust kicked up behind him.

When he got to Oak Smith his heart was pumping so hard he had to huff out breaths to calm it. He felt high, exhilarated, free and in control of his emotions. Exactly what he wanted. He didn’t have
to wait long before Lauren came charging out of the trees, a smile on her lips and her hair whipping around her face. As she slowed to a stop, he saw that she was flushed – the first time he’d seen natural colouring enhancing her cheekbones.

She let out a ‘Phew’ and tipped her hat to him. ‘You win.’

‘Not by much.’ Ensuring Elton was grazing happily, he went over to help Lauren down. ‘That was impressive riding.’

She beamed and placed her hands atop his shoulders to jump off Marilyn. ‘I’m not just a pretty face, you know.’

‘So I see.’ He couldn’t help thinking that it was a fairly conceited comment, but he brushed the thought aside. There was no sin in being proud of what nature had given you. He unzipped his backpack and offered Lauren a can of Diet Coke. Somehow he’d known she’d prefer that to the real deal.

After searching carefully for a patch of soft, fluffy grass, she sat down and drank. Flynn plonked down beside her, taking another drink and a packet of choc-mint biscuits – his favourite – from the bag.

Lauren scrunched up her nose and shook her head. ‘I don’t eat chocolate. It doesn’t agree with my skin.’

‘Fair enough. Sorry, I don’t have anything else.’ He shoved the packet back inside his pack.

‘That’s okay, you go ahead. I had more than enough to eat at lunch. I don’t mind.’

Now that he thought about it, she’d eaten like a mouse at lunch, but he didn’t need to be asked twice on the biscuit front. He wolfed down two in record time.

‘So, if you don’t eat chocolate,’ he said, wiping the heel of his hand along his lips to check for crumbs, ‘what do you eat for pleasure?’

She thought for a moment, fiddling with her pearl earrings. ‘I keep veggie sticks in the fridge, and if I deserve a treat, I buy a tub of hummus.’

He couldn’t help it, but his eyebrows rose. If they weren’t going to find common ground with food, he’d have to try something else. ‘Favourite movie?’

‘Clueless. Yours?’

‘
The Fast and the Furious.’

And on they went, doing the typical first date thing, playing twenty questions about likes, dislikes, hobbies, etc. It was a pleasant enough afternoon, but this time he really did need to check on the lambing ewes and get a couple of odd jobs done before he lost the light. Lauren understood. Although they didn’t race back to the cottage, the air was starting to bite, so they rode fast enough that they were unable to chat.

When they’d unsaddled the horses and settled them back into the stables, Flynn walked Lauren to her car. She turned at the driver’s door, twiddling her keys between her fingers as she looked up at Flynn.

‘I had a really great day, Flynn. Thank you.’

He nodded. With Ellie haunting his thoughts most of the afternoon he was unable to echo the sentiment. It wasn’t fair on Lauren, but he couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t kiss her when she tilted her chin up and leaned into him. Instead he stepped a tad backwards, and disappointment flashed in her eyes. He found himself telling her he wanted to take things slow. That he didn’t want a repeat of that disastrous and embarrassing night at her place. She seemed to accept this, especially when he asked her on another date.

Chapter Twenty-one

If Ellie hadn’t already made up her mind to go back to Sydney, the sight at the Memorial Hall on Tuesday night would have done it for her. Her pressure on Mat’s back tightened unintentionally as they entered the hall, and it was all she could do to not let sickness take hold of her gut again.

As they walked through the door, all eyes swung in her direction, but not for the reasons they had that first night she’d come. She saw pity in their faces this time, pity from these people who had become her friends. Pity because there was another woman in the room. Another woman with Flynn.

If she could talk to Flynn now she would ask him this:
Of all the women in town, why did you have to take up with Lauren? And why did you have to bring her here?

Lauren, who had never made any effort to hide her opinion of Ellie. Lauren, who had ribbed her about her tomboy appearance and op-shop clothing when she’d first arrived in Hope Junction.
Lauren’s parents had bought her clothes, music, anything she damn wanted. She’d made fun of the fact that not only could Ellie’s mother not afford those things, but that she didn’t even want to.

Then again, Ellie had to concede
who
Flynn was with wouldn’t have made any difference to her feelings.

She swallowed but it didn’t get rid of the lump in her throat. She settled Matilda down to watch the rehearsal, trying to block her ears when she heard Lauren proclaiming loudly about the fabulous, healthy cakes she’d made for Flynn. Carrot-and-zucchini slice didn’t sound delicious, but what would she know? Maybe Flynn’s tastes had changed in the last ten years. She certainly couldn’t attest to his taste in women having improved.

While Flynn led Lauren to the end of the hall, presumably to show her his handiwork on the set, Ellie threw herself into helping the actors perfect their lines. For the first time since she’d joined the group, she wasn’t looking forward to the supper afterwards. Thankfully Matilda made an uncharacteristic fuss about being cold and tired and Ellie jumped on this as an excuse for not staying. It probably didn’t fool anyone – certainly not Lucy, who stopped her at the door with a comforting hand on her arm.

‘He didn’t ask her here,’ she told Ellie. Neither of them had to say who he or her was. ‘It all stemmed from the wedding. I’m sure Lauren invited herself to lunch, or Mum encouraged her, and then they had some silly bet …’ Ellie was lost in Lucy’s ramblings, but the sentiment touched her all the same. ‘He can’t be interested in her.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Lucy,’ Ellie lied. ‘He can be interested in whoever he wants. I’m leaving soon.’

Lucy made an angry noise between her teeth and twisted her fingers around a lock of hair. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘And I’ll miss you too, but some things just aren’t meant to be.’

Mat waited until they were in the car before she opened her
mouth, her words more accusatory than Ellie had expected. ‘I thought you were extending your stay.’

Ellie winced, trying to focus on turning the car around. ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

‘I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed. I was looking forward to having you around a bit longer. I love your company, and I hate to see Flynn pushing you away like this.’

‘It’s not Flynn, it’s me. Flynn has a right to get on with his life … whoever that’s with. But I can’t stick around and watch. It’ll kill me.’

Out the corner of her eye, Ellie saw Matilda nod. ‘I still think you should tell him.’

‘It won’t change anything.’

They’d been over this already, talking it through when Ellie had finally returned on Sunday night. As stubborn as each other, this was just something about which they’d have to agree to disagree. Still, she tried to explain again.