They walked to the door and Alice gave Poppy an impromptu embrace. ‘Thank you.’

  Clementine came bouncing in, holding her kitty. ‘Are you leaving?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I have to go, darling.’ Poppy took a pen out of her bag, wrote on a scrap of paper and handed it to Alice. ‘Here’s my uncle’s address. If you change your mind about help, please contact him.’

  Alice stared at it and folded it carefully. ‘It’s funny how the universe works sometimes.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I expected you to be different, to hate me for what happened. But you don’t.’

  For Poppy, the violence imparted, particularly by men, was hard to ignore. But the world was in a state of unpredictability, and all she could do was bring an ordered calm. What good would it do for her to hate? She ran her hand over Clementine’s head. ‘Enjoy the bubbles and kitty.’

  Poppy walked to the end of the street. The couple previously making public love to one another were gone. She looked back towards Alice’s house. If she could help Alice and Clementine, she would. Her mind filled with the consequences of Dan’s actions. More than ever, she wanted to be home and in the arms of the one person she loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  JB and Walter stood in front of the train station. JB’s stomach gurgled and he fastened and unfastened the top button of his shirt, wishing the fifteen minutes before Lee, Maggie and the girls arrived would hurry. ‘Let’s go wait inside.’

  Walter followed him into the station and they stood on the edge of the platform. JB ran his gaze along the tracks.

  ‘How’s it going with Poppy, lad?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her since she came back from Adelaide. She’s been busy.’ Their courtship seemed to be delayed time and time again. Now, with his family’s arrival, he knew they’d need a period to settle, and that would mean less time with Poppy. ‘You know the word about town is still that she’s gonna marry you, Walter.’

  Walter snorted a laugh. ‘I know. I’m sorry about that. I’ve tried telling people otherwise.’

  ‘I thought you said small town, big mouths?’

  ‘Maybe the word you’re courting her hasn’t reached everyone’s ears yet.’

  Violet Armitage was likely the reason. JB had a sinking feeling that Poppy might hold back from him, especially after her aunt confronted him with her nonsense. He glanced at his watch. ‘I can’t wait. I feel sick. What if they don’t like it here?’

  ‘Is everything ready?’

  ‘I bloody hope so.’ He’d been up every night this week scrubbing and re-scrubbing the bathroom and kitchen, eradicating the last of the bad smells permeating the cottage. The two rooms would be for Maggie, Lee and the girls. He’d remain sleeping in the office. Outside, he’d thrashed back the unruly garden and prepared the soil for a vegetable patch. The other part he’d sorted into a place for the children to play away from the workshop.

  ‘Then you’ll be fine, and we’ll make your family welcome.’

  He inhaled deeply. ‘Do you think her aunt might stop us being together? Poppy and me, I mean?’

  ‘What is this? Romeo and Juliet?’ Walter chuckled. ‘You shouldn’t give a stuff about Violet Armitage.’

  But he couldn’t help it. Had Violet issued the same threats to Poppy that she had uttered to him? Was she aware of what her aunt threatened? ‘But she has influence.’

  ‘Influence? Not as much as she thinks she does. She’s interfering and controlling. Dan and his mother never got along with her, and Edith doesn’t have anything pleasant to say about her either. Since Dan died, Violet browbeats Poppy as if she’s an indolent teen.’

  Poppy told JB she felt beholden to her aunt, as the memory of her dead cousin loomed large in their lives. But Poppy was also her own woman—a competent farmer, a diligent citizen of Goyders Creek, and yes, more than bloody lovely. ‘I don’t fully understand why she puts up with it.’

  ‘You have to ask Poppy. She never says no to that bloody woman.’

  ‘But she owns the farm; she can do what she likes. Surely she would have sold up and left if her aunt had that much influence.’

  ‘She doesn’t own the farm, that’s the thing. Legally she can’t sell it. If the bank forecloses, that’s another matter. She can sell off parcels of land in bits and pieces, with Ronnie’s approval. But as long as it remains solvent, she doesn’t have a choice and has to keep the farm in working order.’

  ‘How can she not own it?’

  ‘It belongs to Glenn and Ronnie. Dan’s will specifies her only as caretaker. She inherited all the furniture and a stipend from the profits of the farm when Glenn turns twenty-one, unless he sells it.’

  ‘He didn’t leave it to her?’ His stomach hardened. And Poppy held this man in esteem? Seems like she got the poor end of a deal.

  ‘Dan had some outdated notions about women. But so did his father. Why do you think Ronnie moved away after their mother died? She wasn’t having Dan replace her father.’

  JB couldn’t imagine disinheriting his wife. He would never have done that to Jenny. He would never do it to Poppy.

  ‘He wanted to make sure Poppy was cared for, but it’s complicated. Glenn staying in the city with Violet was his idea, but right before he died he changed his mind about that. He planned to bring Glenn home and Poppy’s fought hard to bring him back since. Only taken a couple of years to untie him from Violet’s apron strings.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ Shit, that’s why she was so worried after Glenn broke his arm. Violet’s threats aren’t as empty as he first thought.

  ‘The last six months have been difficult for her. I’ve no wish to sour my friend’s name, but Dan was not the man most of town thinks he was. But he’s dead and Poppy isn’t.’

  JB turned his gaze towards the hillside across the tracks. What did Walter know? And aside from the misgivings that Poppy had already expressed to him, was there something she hadn’t told him? About Dan? She had said little about Guilford Farm, either.

  ‘I know sometimes I make this town sound like it doesn’t care. But it does. Sure, it has a measure of drongos. But this place has its heart in the right place.’

  JB had to credit Walter for his concern for Poppy, and even though Walter was not the man for her, maybe he was the man the rest of the town, Violet included, thought she needed.

  ‘Come on, lad, enough chin wagging. Train’s coming. You’ve some VIPs to greet.’

  The train pulled up alongside the platform. Lee lunged from a passenger window and clamoured for his hand. JB pulled him out, the giggling bundle in his arms he’d never have to let go again.

  * * *

  Saint Mary’s church, in the centre of Goyders Creek, buzzed with activity on Sundays. JB, having introduced Maggie and the children to the congregation, sat a few pews back from Poppy. He fixed his gaze on her hair, which bounced as she moved her head from side to side.

  The great organ finished its tune, and Pastor Lewis stood in his pulpit to deliver his latest sermon, a fiery tirade about being proper citizens, loyal to God and Christ, preaching for his parishioners to remain ever vigilant against immoral temptations.

  JB’s cheeks tingled. What he and Poppy had done might fit into that ‘immoral’ category. Passion had returned for him and the loose threads of his life, ones that not even Maggie could stitch together, felt weaved together being here. Not just a workhorse, or a soldier, but a man and a father. He ran his hand over Lee’s head.

  Poppy turned towards him, her fingers playing with her hair that he likened to silken straw. He grinned and pointed, half-serious, back towards the pastor. She accepted the teasing chastisement with blushing rosy cheeks.

  There were days a sermon lifted him, took him out of what self-pity he had, made him feel better. Then there were other days, like today, where his mind wandered, lost in daydreams from which he couldn’t and didn’t want to escape. Perhaps, as the sermon implied, he had a weakness of spirit. But for the moments he shared with Poppy, with his family, with Charlie, Walter and all those who had welcomed him here to Goyders Creek, no, not weakness. He’d endured much and asked for little in return.

  After the service, the CWA ladies took Maggie and the girls in hand, and Glenn and Lee ran off together. Chatter among parishioners began in earnest. Several asked if he could look at their tractors as soon as the weather cooled.

  With discussions waning, he searched for Poppy. He wandered a gravel path to behind the church and through the arch of a conifer hedge.

  Poppy stood near a row of newly planted pines smoking a cigarette. Not a sight he expected to see. ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

  She gasped and dropped the half-smoked butt onto the ground, stepping on it with an elegant heel. ‘The Land girls left a packet at the house. I was curious to try it. It seems I find it quite calming, if a little acrid.’

  He grabbed her hand. ‘It’s a bad habit. Believe me, I have a few of those. But what have you to be nervous about?’

  She avoided his gaze and looked towards a bank of trees, frowning. ‘Dan never approved of women smoking. He didn’t approve of a lot of things. But he’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter.’

  Was this his Poppy speaking? Usually she was so deferential to Dan. He remained cautious whenever she spoke of him, in case he said the wrong thing and upset her. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’ Her tone was as distant as her mood.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. ‘Can I have a kiss then? I haven’t had one since you came back. I’m getting impatient.’

  Poppy’s hand brushed over his shoulder; her mouth moved close to his. ‘Of course you can.’

  He pressed his lips to hers and moaned against her mouth. Her kiss was soft and full of promise.

  She pulled away. ‘We’re on holy ground. We don’t want to encourage any immoral temptations.’

  JB laughed, paused and tilted his head back toward the church. ‘How can it be holy ground? There’s no cemetery here.’

  ‘Not here. The cemetery is south of the town. Dan’s family has a plot there.’

  ‘Were you close to them? Dan’s mother and father, I mean.’

  ‘I was very close to Maxine. I would never have survived the first few years on the farm without her. One of the most kind and strong women I ever met. Much missed. She and Edith were like a lifebuoy in an ocean of red dirt.’ Her gaze became glassy. ‘I never met Dan’s father. My father did. It’s the whole reason I even met Dan.’

  ‘Your father made the match?’

  She laughed. ‘Hardly an arranged marriage. My father was the solicitor for Lawrence Guilford’s estate. I was in the office when Dan called in one day.’

  ‘And he couldn’t take his eyes off you.’ Much like JB hadn’t been able to draw his eyes away from her now.

  She ignored his compliment. ‘Where they’re buried is a small plot. I suppose that’s where I’ll be buried one day.’ Again, her tone was off. He was usually the one with the morbid thoughts, not her.

  He offered her his arm, and they walked back towards the front of the church. She was unusually quiet. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’

  ‘I was thinking about my father. I miss him. My life might be very different now if he were still alive.’

  ‘How so?’

  A stiff smile passed over her lips, and she took his arm and leaned against him. ‘Things might not be so challenging.’

  Challenging? He’d have to quiz her on that later. He stroked her hand and looked up at the sky. A smattering of clouds was the only thing spoiling the unending blue. ‘I want to come see you soon, but I have to settle Maggie and the children first.’

  She remained silent until they neared the front of the church and Poppy let go of him. ‘I’m so glad your family is here, JB. You deserve all the goodness in the world.’

  JB had a lot of fatherly affection to shower on his son. His only concern now was whether it ever be enough to make up for years of absence.

  A large group remained at the front of the church, all in animated discussions. Often it was the only time to connect with others within the tightknit community.

  ‘Poppy, dear ...’ One of the older members of the CWA came towards her and wrapped her gnarled hand around Poppy’s forearm, pulling her away from JB. ‘Don’t forget the crockery. I won’t make it to the meeting today. Did I tell you about my granddaughter and her beautiful wedding?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Hardy.’ Poppy smiled at JB and mouthed ‘five times’. She walked away with the old woman still gripping her arm.

  He let out a low laugh and Maggie, having slipped away from her new friends in the parish, threaded an arm through his. ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘How the most mundane of conversations can brighten your day.’ He focused his gaze on Poppy, a prickling sensation growing the longer he stared. The skin of her brow remained wrinkled. It troubled him. He patted Maggie’s hand.

  ‘The kids want to go for a walk down to the creek. Can we?’

  ‘Alright. You’ve met everyone?’

  ‘I did. I’ve even joined the CWA. They’re interested in my sewing skills. Mr Ladbroke and the pastor told me how wonderful your mechanic skills are. I don’t know if Mal can live up to your fame.’

  He winked. ‘Fame or infamy? I’m sure Mal will ingratiate himself soon enough.’

  They said their last goodbyes to Poppy, Walter and Glenn and to the remaining parishioners and walked towards the creek. Poppy tooted her horn as she and Glenn passed on the road. Glenn waved frantically from the passenger side, and Lee’s wave was an equally frenzied contortion.

  ‘Poppy asked me to take tea on Tuesday,’ Maggie said.

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Two. Just before school finishes.’

  ‘I think I can make it.’

  ‘Who says you’re invited?’

  ‘Am I not?’

  ‘No.’ She tilted her head and reached out to pat his cheek. ‘You’re madly in love with her, aren’t you?’

  It was likely written all over his face. He pulled his chin up and smiled. ‘I’m not answering that.’

  ‘If you don’t, you have to roll down that grassy hill there.’ She pointed to a gentle fall to the creek with remnant green grass.

  ‘Grassy hill it is, then.’ He dropped and rolled. The girls and Lee squealed and followed. He caught Lee at the last roll and tossed him in his arms, and together they tumbled like circus clowns along the edge of the embankment.

  ‘I didn’t think they’d take this much out of me.’ JB collapsed on the grass beside Maggie and reached for her hand. ‘What do you think of this place? Are you happy?’

  ‘It’s only been a few days.’ Her gaze fell between the children and the nearby trees, then to him. ‘It’s perfect, Jimmy.’

  Lee’s laughter carried from the bank as he and the girls tossed stones into the creek. A contented smile curled at the edge of JB’s lips. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘Walter will drop it off later today if that’s alright?’ Poppy stood at the corner of the garage and smiled. She’d arranged for the Waratah to be delivered to JB’s garage and for it to be sold as soon as possible.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘He doesn’t have to. I can pick it up.’

  If selling the Waratah along with the old homestead meant she could save the farm, she would do it to save the Guilford legacy. Even if she owed Dan nothing beyond what she shared with him, their son. And for Glenn and Ronnie, she would live up to her personal promise as caretaker.

  ‘He doesn’t mind. He had some feed to pick up and wants to show his new farmhands the ropes.’

  Maggie took JB’s arm. ‘I’m sure Jimmy can sell it for you.’

  The familiarity between brother and sister sent a flush of warmth through her. If only saving her own heart from loneliness came as easy as their familial love. But she couldn’t focus on her own happiness until they had found a buyer for the old homestead.

  ‘Thank you immensely for this. As magic as it was to be a passenger again, it will be nice for it to have a new owner who can use it more than me.’ Poppy’s fingers tingled at the memory of her grip around his waist as he took her for a ride.

  ‘It’s the least I could do given this town has been nothing but kind to me—to us. Maggie deserves it. I’m not sure I do.’

  Maggie smacked his arm. ‘Tosh.’

  ‘We all had to do our part. Your time in the army serving overseas is nothing to sniff at. You paid a price for that.’ Poppy nodded towards his bad shoulder. She yearned to comfort him. But if love and desire burned within her, her family held a bucket of water to douse it. Violet didn’t want her to be with JB. If she chose romantic love over duty to family, what would that mean?

  ‘See.’ Maggie shouldered JB. ‘I hear you’re giving piano lessons, Poppy. Perhaps when we settle and we actually buy a piano, I’ll send the girls to you.’

  The pall of loneliness Poppy had felt on and off for years seemed to be slowly disappearing. She welcomed a friendship with Maggie. ‘I would love to teach your girls.’

  Maggie looked at her watch. ‘I best go, the sewing circle is expecting me. It was good to see you again, Poppy.’ A glance and the smallest of smiles passed between brother and sister. ‘See you on Tuesday.’

  Poppy waved. ‘See you Tuesday.’

  When Maggie left, he nodded towards the door. ‘Becoming a regular thing this Tuesday afternoon tea?’

  ‘Not every week.’ Poppy held his gaze and narrowed her eyes. ‘Maggie and I are very busy women.’

  He laughed, made a hesitant grab for her hands before squeezing them tightly. ‘I want to ask you something.’

  ‘Ask away.’

  ‘Not here. Are you free tonight?’ There was a tremor in his voice she didn’t recognise.

  ‘I’m afraid the CWA has a meeting.’

  His throat bobbed. ‘Tomorrow then?’

  She placed her hand above his heart and felt his chest rise and fall under her palm in shallow breaths. There was a glimpse of a future there. She could read it in his body language, the way he stood leaning towards her, how his gaze never left hers. If she wasn’t so paralysed by indecision, she would publicly damn her aunt and all the nosy busybodies who had gossiped about her and leap into his arms. ‘Tomorrow.’

 

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