Right As Rain (25 page)

“Scrambled eggs?”Adam asked as he ran a spatula around the pan.

“Smells divine,” Mackenna said, eying off the mixture. “Could you find everything you need?”

“I hope you don't mind but I have, yes. It seems a bit rude to be poking about in someone else's kitchen when they're not here, but I was feeling hungry this morning.”

Mackenna clasped her hand to her mouth. “I'm so sorry,” she mumbled between her fingers. Neither of them had time to eat last night except for a few tastings as dishes were served. “How terrible of me, making you work and not feeding you.”

“You didn't make me and as you can see, I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself.”

Mackenna took the toast as it popped and buttered it while Adam lifted the eggs from the cook top.

“I've just had a call,” she said. “Six more guests for the Gatehouse tonight.”

“That's fantastic. It's a brilliant concept, and your food selections are a perfect showcase for your lamb.”

Adam smiled at her. Her stomach did a flip and she turned her attention to the food in front of her.

“Mmm,” she murmured after the first mouthful. “Delicious.”

“Glad you like it. I've owed you for a long time.”

“Owed me?”

Once again Mackenna gazed into those deep brown eyes. She felt as if she could leap into his arms and kiss him, forget all about the eggs and drag him off to bed.

“I was going to make you a special breakfast the day you . . . the day I cooked for my mate . . . the day you left,” he finished.

“I didn't leave,” she said.

She realised how silly that sounded.

“What I meant was . . .”

“It was a misunderstanding by both of us. I came to Australia looking for you because I needed to know why you left.”

“I thought you came for your grandfather.”

“I would have come anyway. I needed to know what happened.”

Mackenna studied his face, searching for the man she'd fallen in love with in Queenstown. She didn't have to search long, he was there – she just wouldn't let him back into her heart. Her bruised and battered, mixed-up and confused heart.

“Now I get it,” he said. “Staying here with your family, watching you work, you were born to life on the land. It suits you. I understand Queenstown ... us ... it was just a holiday.”

“Adam – ”

“No.” He cut her off. “It's okay, Mackenna. You don't have to explain. I got the picture last time I was here. I'm only back now because I had time to spare and I thought you could use the help.”

“Got what picture?” He was talking in riddles now.

“You and Hugh. You're so close. A lovely couple with your fond kisses and caresses. He's a nice bloke and you've known him a long time – ”

“Hugh?” This time Mackenna chopped Adam off. How could he think there was something between her and Hugh when she didn't understand it herself? What kisses and caresses?

Adam's mobile rang.

They both stared at it in amazement. “I bought a new one,”Adam said. “The guy told me it had good coverage.” He glanced down at the screen. The phone stopped ringing and he shook his head.

“It's Mum, but it's dropped out. Can I use your landline?”

“Sure.”

He dialled the number then took the cordless handpiece and left the room as he started speaking.

Mackenna poked the last of the scrambled eggs with her fork. She'd lost her appetite. What had Adam thought he'd seen? The only time she and Hugh had been close was the day he'd kissed her. While it had been Adam who had interrupted them, he couldn't have seen them.

Adam was back at the door. “I have to go.”

“Has something happened?”

“My grandfather died this morning.”

Mackenna rose to her feet. “I'm so sorry.”

“His time had come. Mum's taking it pretty hard. I need to get back to her.”

“Of course.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Of course,” she said again. “Don't worry about me. I appreciated your help last night but I've only got six at the table tonight.”

“I might come back,” he said. “After . . .”

“You don't have to Adam, really. Patrick will be back next week, and Cam. I'll have plenty of help. You be with your family.”

He hesitated in the doorway then rushed forward, pulled her towards him and kissed her firmly on the lips. Before she could respond, he was gone. Mackenna stood fixed to the spot, wondering if she'd just conjured up that kiss. Then the motorbike started, revved a few times and roared off. At the main road it paused, revved, then roared away. It was taking Adam away from her once again. Why had she said he didn't have to come back when that was what she wanted? She waited until she couldn't hear the bike any longer then she sank onto a chair.

“You fool, Mackenna,” she said to the empty room. Once again his loss overwhelmed her. She put her head in her hands and let the tears fall. Her body shuddered with the strength of her sobs until finally they stopped. She pushed Adam to the back of her mind. There was no time for self-pity and plenty of work to keep her busy. She lurched to her feet, cleaned up her mother's kitchen and drove back to the Gatehouse to collect last night's scraps for the chooks.

When she got there her phone rang and she eagerly scooped it from her pocket. Her heart sank when she saw Rory's name on the screen. She let it ring and then realised it couldn't have been Adam anyway. She'd never given him her number, but hadn't he said he'd left his with Louise?

She flew out to the ute and drove the short distance back to her family home like a madwoman. She didn't even bother to shut the door when she jumped out and ran into the house. She wasn't sure what she'd do with his number when she found it. She just wanted to have it. Her mother always pinned important things on the board above the computer but there was nothing there. Nothing on the fridge, except her postcards. Mackenna sifted through every piece of paper clipped in piles in trays ready for filing. She rummaged through the desk drawers and finally thumped the desktop in frustration. Maybe she'd misunderstood. Maybe he said he'd meant to leave Louise his number.

Finally she gave up. Her phone beeped a reminder that she had a message. She tapped the screen and put the phone to her ear. Rory wanted to know how the tasting room was going and whether he and his wife and his parents could come out for a meal tonight. Why not, she thought, just as easy to cook for ten as six. She rang him back then went to the Gatehouse.

She meant to check her supplies but instead she wandered the kitchen replaying last night in her head. All she could see was Adam. Adam at the bench wrapping lamb in vine leaves and joking about people eating leaves. Adam rinsing dishes and flicking her with water as she passed with an instruction. Adam searing the lamb on her gleaming cook top, his face creased in concentration. And there on her menu was the big star he'd drawn next to her spiced lamb on the cauliflower and pine nut salad. That had been his favourite.

“This is what I wanted,” she said aloud to the empty kitchen.

How long had she been planning this? Now it was a reality – a tasting room where people could come and enjoy the produce of her hands. She gathered food from the fridge, pulled some bowls from the cupboard and made a start on the prep. She worked methodically but the joy of yesterday was gone, replaced by an aching loss she had no idea how to fill.

Hugh was home earlier than anticipated. He'd planned to catch up with some mates today and drive back to the South East on Monday, but the other blokes' plans had changed and he'd decided to head home.

The drive had given him good thinking time but he was no closer to a decision. He'd met with the Canadian agent as planned and applied for his visa. He'd fitted a lot into his one day interstate. He hadn't said anything to the agent but there would be no need for a visa if he decided not to go to Canada.

Two months ago he couldn't wait to get there. Now he was undecided about going at all. He pulled up outside his family home, got out of his vehicle and stretched. He paused to take in the house with its wonky verandah post, cracked back window, assorted pots and the old cat, Molly, curled up on the chair at the back door. This was home. A home he'd been avoiding for years but today felt like the place of his childhood, where he belonged. He wouldn't describe himself as content but at least more comfortable. Somehow he'd laid the demons to rest during his stay.

He gave Molly a pat and went inside. The house was quiet. His parents were out somewhere. This would be a good chance to bring out the replacement verandah post he'd stashed in the shed.

He changed into work clothes and set off to tackle the verandah. At one stage the whole corner threatened to give way on top of him but he managed to keep it in place while he got the new post in. He worked hard until finally, it was done. He stepped back, taking in the new post and the nearly straight roof. Molly came to weave between his legs.

“Now you offer to help,” he said. He reached down to pat her and received a head butt to his leg in response.

There was still no sign of his parents and with nothing else immediate to do, he relaxed on the side verandah. With inactivity his thoughts to strayed to Mackenna. His new-found ease at being home wasn't the only reason he might stay. They were good friends but could they be lovers, partners? Did they have a future together? She'd told him to follow his dreams but he knew he'd stay if she wanted him too. She hadn't avoided him after their kiss at the Gatehouse, but she hadn't encouraged him to repeat it either.

Rather than sit alone pondering, he decided to head over to Woolly Swamp. Sunday afternoon was as good a time as any to catch Mackenna. If he was going to test their possible relationship, it needed to be soon.

When he pulled up at the back door of the Gatehouse Mackenna came straight out, as if she'd been watching for him.

“Hi,” she called and wrapped her arms around him in a close hug.

He pulled back and studied her. Her lips were turned up in a smile that didn't reach her tired eyes, and her face was pale.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

“Much better now you're here,” she said. She stepped away from him quickly, her face creased in a puzzled look. “I thought you weren't coming back till Monday.”

“A change of plans, so I thought I might as well come home. There's no-one there, so here I am begging a meal maybe.”

“You could be in luck, but you'll have to earn it,” she said. “Come with me.”

He followed her inside, feeling like a puppy bouncing adoringly behind its mistress. Inside the kitchen, benches were loaded with dishes and food in different degrees of preparation.

“I've got ten coming for dinner tonight, I'm on my own and I'm up to my ears in prep. I need more wine from Bunyip and Chris can't leave because he's also on his own, and there are dogs and chooks to feed and shut up.” She swept an arm in an arc. “Take your pick. Whatever it is you can do to help, I'd be grateful.”

Hugh looked at the benches and back at Mackenna. “I'll leave the cooking to you,” he said. “Deliveries and animals I can deal with.”

“Thanks, Hugh.” This time the smile was stronger. “I wasn't planning on people for a meal here tonight but I don't want to say no now that word's getting out. With everyone else away it's a bit more than I can handle on my own.”

“Where's Cam?”

“Helping a mate shift house.”

Hugh raised his eyebrows. Cam Martin was on a pretty good wicket. He worked for the Birches but appeared to come and go when it suited him and had free use of their vehicles.

“He'll be back tonight.” Mackenna glanced at the clock. “Or maybe in the morning.”

“Okay,” Hugh said. “Drinks or animals first?”

“Drinks please. The animals will be fine till you get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks, errand boy.” She laughed. “And there will be a meal in it for you,” she said. “I promise.”

He waved a hand over his shoulder as he walked out the door, happy to be the person she could depend on to help out when needed.

A couple of hours later he was back at her kitchen table tucking into a delicious serve of her Trio of Lamb. He'd help set up tables and serve wine and Mackenna had made sure there was something of everything she'd cooked set aside for him. She'd offered to make a place for him with the guests but he was happy to eat in the kitchen, watching her work and washing up for her.

Now she was throwing together a dessert. She muttered about not enough berries but the concoction she was arranging, ice-cream drizzled with berries and toffee, looked fantastic. Finally she put her hands to her hips and stood back.

“I'm sorry I haven't got a skerrick left to make one for you,” she said.

He patted his stomach.

“I don't need any. The lamb's been enough.”

She ferried the desserts down to her guests but didn't return. He could hear her voice amongst the others, drifting along the passage. He stacked what dishes he could in the dishwasher and tackled the last of the pots and pans.

He was making such a racket and lost in his own thoughts that he got a shock when she spoke close behind him.

“Just what every chef needs,' she chuckled. “A dish pig.”

“Charming,” he said. “I'm quite the animal. A gopher and a pig all in one day.”

“Oh, don't be upset.” She laughed at him. “I've done my time, you know. Besides, if you weren't here I would be doing them myself now that my guests have gone.”

“Are you going to eat?” he asked.

“I'll just pick at the last of the tasting plate. But I'm going to have a small drink.” She went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of the Bunyip sauvignon blanc and wiggled it at him. “Want to join me?”